Traditions
by Becca
E-MAIL: yuna_ezri@yahoo.com
STATUS: Complete
CATEGORY: D/J romance
RATING: G
SPOILERS: None
SEASON/SEQUEL: Any season you want; Maybe a sequel later
SUMMARY: Janet wishes she didn't go to the Christmas party this year
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the
property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This
piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary
purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended.
Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are
copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Enjoy... :)
Janet sighed, sipped at her wine, and wondered why she had bothered
coming to the SGC Christmas Party this year.
Sure, it was fun, there was lots of good food, and...well, that was
about it really, but that was usually enough to get her to go. This
year, however, the Christmas party only served to accentuate the down
mood she was in.
She knew exactly where the down mood came from, of course. Daniel
Jackson, liguist and archaeologist extraodinaire, and looking -oh- so
stunning in a suit tonight. It wasn't that he had done anything wrong,
he was always so -nice-, but that was the problem. He was -too- nice.
If he had any faults, anything at all, she wouldn't find it so easy to
be in love with him.
Sighing again as she caught sight of him through the crowds in the
dance floor, she silently scolded herself for acting like a lovesick
teenager.
She had a gorgeous daughter, great friends. She was happy just being
single. Not! She'd rather be a little more friendly with one of her
friends...
Setting her suddenly empty glass down on a nearby table, she moved a
little away from it just in case she felt tempted to have another
glass. Drowning her sorrows definately wasn't a good idea, especially
since she was driving home tonight.
Settling herself against the wall again, she looked around for Daniel,
figuring that if she had to stay, she may as well indulge in one of her
favourite activities: Daniel watching.
After a few minutes of searching and not finding him, she gave up that
idea, and wondered if she could just go home yet, escaping an evening
of boredom, when suddenly he was there. Right there, in front of her,
watching her through half-lidded eyes.
"Having a good time?" He was the first to break the silence, eyes never
leaving hers and she found herself powerless to look away.
"Hmmm...you?" was all she could manage due to the sudden dryness of her
throat.
"I've found it somewhat disappointing myself, though it may soon get
more interesting," he replied, voice suggesting something wonderful.
"Really? What?" she enquired, swallowing quickly in an attempt to
regain some of the moisture in her throat so that she could make some
kind of intelligent conversation.
He didn't reply, only pointed upwards with one hand, a slight smile on
his face. She looked upwards, curious as to what he was talking about,
and it took a moment to comprehend. Mistletoe. Her mouth made a small
'o' of surprise as she returned her eyes to his.
He smiled that infuriating smile at her, with those oh-so-gorgeous lips
that just demanded to be kissed. "It's tradition, after all..."
She opened her mouth to reply, to say -anything- really, coherant or
not, but he leaned forward quickly, and as their lips met, all coherent
thoughts left her mind.
One of his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him,
while the other rested against the wall holding them up, since she
seemed to have lost the concept of 'standing up' long ago.
All too soon, it seemed, he broke the kiss, though didn't let go of
her. There was a possesiveness in his eyes as he looked at her, and she
delighted in it.
She could do nothing but stand there, leaning slightly against him, and
look into his eyes. A few moments passed like this, until finally he
started to pull away, wondering if she had really wanted that.
Noting the loss of warmth and his strong arms around her, her mind went
on auto-pilot, and leaned forward to catch his lips again.
"It's tradition, after all," she said somewhat breathlessly after they
had pulled apart again.
**********
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