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Son of a Gun

dirty diana (torri13)

anr (anr)

Stargate: SG-1

Amanda Tapping/Richard Dean Anderson


Set during the first season, for a prompt of "remember when?".

Things Amanda remembers.

Rick had a habit of touching things, of picking up whatever object was closest, but only when the sound and the cameras were rolling. Blunt fingers, poking and examining without embarrassment. It drove all of the directors crazy, changing the focus of the scene. It drove Jim crazy, because Rick would invariably drift to the wrong side of the frame as he was doing it, wrecking the light.

It drove Amanda crazy because of how much it made her laugh. Hysterical giggles that she couldn't control, until Mario yelled "Cut!" and gave up.

Also because, more than half the time, the object that Rick had chosen to fiddle with was attached to her clothing.

"You know," she said once, after she had removed Rick's hand from her jacket zipper by placing her fingers on his, "I doubt Colonel O'Neill spends that much time grabbing his coworkers' clothes, you know?"

Rick slid his fingers out of her grasp. They were back on her zipper almost instantly. "Really? You don't think O'Neill and Carter are, you know," he wiggled his eyebrows, "doing it?"

Amanda hadn't thought about that even once. "Doing what?" she asked him.

When Rick started to explain, she almost managed to keep a straight face.


The first time Rick invited her to run lines in his trailer, Amanda didn't see what was coming until it was too late. Until the scripts were discarded on the ground, and Rick's hand was on her thigh.

Rick's smile was crooked, his mouth close enough for her to trace the lines with her fingers. She had to fight to concentrate. "I'm married," she pointed out, finally.

"Yup," he agreed.

Amanda took a deep breath. "I think that maybe we shouldn't."

The smile changed, into a lopsided expression that she didn't know. "You sure?"

She nodded. Rick's warmth had eased away from her in an instant. "No problem.""

Amanda had the same answer the second time, and the third. The fourth, she lost her train of thought mid-sentence, and left without saying anything else.

The time after that, she left Rick's trailer with flushed skin, hands still smoothing her hair.


Michael and Chris both thought that she was making a mistake. Michael didn't say as much, it wasn't his style, but it was evident in the way his mouth pulled back at the corners.

Sitting between them both in the pub booth, Amanda felt her body pressed into a slim layer of warmth. She glared at Michael. "If you lecture me about office romances," Amanda said, "I'll pour this beer over your head."

Michael winked at her. "That's completely different."

"Because with Vaitiare, it's true love?" Amanda asked.

Michael shrugged.

"Be careful," Chris said, with an unusually serious inflection in his deep tone. "If he gets out of hand, and you need me to lay the smackdown, you just let a brother know." He paused, and grinned. "Shanks will help."

Michael looked a little horrified, under the brim of his baseball cap. "Dude, he's our boss. I'm not laying the smackdown on our boss."

Chris called Michael a pussy, and a chickenshit.

Michael ordered another pitcher of beer.


Rick only took her on a date once, and even then they called it something else. They ate sushi in a restaurant whose windows were covered in paintings of fish, and sheeted by rain.

He kissed her on the sidewalk, hand steady underneath her windbreaker, and Amanda thought that even if this was the last job she ever had, it would still be her favorite.


One of the things Amanda bought with her first Stargate paycheck was a new bed. With accessories - a down comforter, striped flannel sheets. She was always in bed by ten, and when her alarm went off at four-thirty am, se felt like she might never get used to the hours.

Rick didn't seem to sleep that much at all. He showed up sometimes when Allan was out of town, when she was just getting underneath the sheets, catching her in her nightgown and not apologizing.

"Daisies," he said, tracking the pattern of the light fabric against her ribs, underneath a breast. "Very sexy."

Amanda rolled her eyes. But she didn't actually consider making him leave. They tumbled into bed with their hands on each other, and he slid the gown up towards her waist, hand between her thighs. He pretty much never stopped talking, even then, never stopped making her laugh. She was caught between giggles and sharp, wanting, moans. Breathless, as Rick clutched her waist with both hands and slid inside her.

"Rick," Amanda said afterward, though it was hard to sound firm with her head on his chest, "maybe you can call first next time?"

He grunted neither a yes nor a no, stroking the back of her neck, and didn't seem to consider that she might be serious.


She was a sure thing. A guaranteed good time. Married women usually were. Chris explained it to her one day at lunch, with a stick figure diagram drawn on a napkin.

It wasn't that Amanda didn't get it. It was just that she didn't care, not as much as she should.


When it was over, it was over very quickly. After the wrap party, Rick went to California. Amanda went to Toronto for Christmas with Allan, and when they came back they bought a new puppy, and Rick hadn't left her any messages.

They went to a party at Teryl's for New Year's, and Amanda found that she wasn't thinking about him at all.

When Brad told her they were doing another season, Amanda was as surprised as anyone else. She was thinking about buying a house. On the first day of shooting Rick was the first person she saw, and he grinned when he saw her, in a way that was warmly familiar.

"How was your vacation?" he asked her.

Amanda nodded. "Good. Yours?"


"It's good to see you," Amanda told him, and meant it.

Rick gave her a hug, with freezing cold hands in the small of her back, and kissed her cheek. "You, too."

[the end.]


 Left By:
anr (anr)

2006-12-25 18:48:50

Oh, I love this. Thank you so, so much! The characterisations are wonderful, and I love that the main theme of it all is touch. *Perfect*.

 Left By:
Guest (jennghis kahn)

2006-12-31 21:11:44

Oh, this made my night! Wonderful! You know AT had to have thought about it, and not like Rick would have complained. Great job. :)