FIC: See Emily Play

Author: celievamp

Pairings: Sam/Janet (Emily/L'Enigme)

Spoilers: None. This is a sequel/opposite POV to Geonn's story "L'Enigme" and is posted with his permission.  Lyrics quoted are from "See Emily Play" by Pink Floyd

Rating: NC17

DISCLAIMER: I only borrowed them for a while. MGM and whoever can have them back whenever they want

ARCHIVE: Area 52, anyone else, just ask.

Sam had turned down O'Neill's movie night invitation after Teal'c had given her a heads-up on the featured presentations.  An evening of B movies featuring ex-Playboy starlets just did not do it for her – or at least not in the company of the colonel, Teal'c and Daniel Jackson.

Instead, she had asked Janet out for a coffee.  It had hurt when Janet said no.  Especially as Sam could tell that she had almost said yes.  But something had stopped the doctor from agreeing to her plan.  Sam just wished that she knew for certain what that something was.

So Sam went home alone, put on some music and wandered around her house, wondering when her life had got so empty and constricted.  Work… home… work… home.  She loved her work, no mistake there, but outside of it… Hell, if it wasn't for the guys and Cassie and of course Janet, she might as well have been a deaf mute hermit for all the interaction she did with the human species in general.

Janet.  Why did all her thought processes seem to end up focusing on Dr Janet Fraiser?  And did she really want to follow that through to its logical conclusion?  Apparently not.  Her mind fastened instead on the music that was playing in the background.

"Emily tries but misunderstands
She often inclined to borrow somebody's dreams till tomorrow."

Sam smiled and relaxed.  One of the few influences her brother Mark had ever had on her life was her taste in music, especially for 70's British groups like Pink Floyd and Genesis.

"Soon after dark Emily cries
Gazing through the trees in sorrow
Hardly a sound till tomorrow
There is no other day
Let's try it another way
You'll lose your mind and play."

Okay.  Now she was getting maudlin.  Carter's didn't do self pity, she told herself fiercely.  Time for another way, as the song suggested.


Sam realised that she needed to get out to be with people - people who did not know Major Doctor Samantha Carter USAF, astrophysicist with more secrets than was entirely healthy for a person to cope with.

She remembered a club she had visited the last time she had felt the need to be taken out of herself, to indulge her inner self.  It was discreet, exotic and above all somewhere that Major Doctor Samantha Carter would never be seen.

She got there a little after eight, proffered the discreet square of laminated card that she had been given the last time she had come here.  It got her a nod and a smile from the bouncer.  Inside it was dark, cool, not too crowded.  She chose a table off to one side and within a few moments of her taking off her jacket a waitress had come over for her order.  She was topless as were all the staff, male or female.  Some kind of faintly luminescent powder enhanced her cleavage and outlined her nipples.  Sam found herself staring into her dark brown eyes for a moment before she realised that the girl had asked her for her order. Tonight wasn't about getting drunk so she chose a wine cooler.

The dancer on stage was in cowgirl gear.  Sam recognised her from her previous visit as `Daisy Duke'.  Pretty but not her type.  She looked around the room.  There were a fair number of couples here tonight, het as well as gay and about twenty women like herself alone and looking for a point of contact.  None of them particularly did it for her so she sat back in the shadows a little more.  Who knows, she thought to herself, things might pick up later.

Daisy Duke left the stage to muted applause and a few wolf whistles.  The lights dimmed a little more and the MC introduced the next dancer.  "Ladies… please welcome for your viewing pleasure, a sight from parts unknown.  She's a rare treat, a gem to be treasured for her rarity… I want each and every one of you to applaud for this lovely specimen known only as… Madame L'Enigme!"

There was a stir of interest and anticipation around the room and several women got up and moved closer to the stage.  Judging by the reaction and the build up from the MC, this was obviously something a bit special, Sam thought.  The spotlight hit a small, slender figure with a mane of reddish brown hair and ghostly pale skin.  Her features were hidden by make up and a mask.  She wore a long gown, form fitted and a shawl that partially hid her upper body.  Her feet were bare, moving confidently across the dance floor.  She threw off the shawl and Sam forgot how to breathe.  Goddess, but this one was exquisite… and tantalisingly familiar.  If someone had asked Sam to describe her ideal this woman would come damn close to it.  The gown she wore and the undergarments beneath it heightened her figure to perfection.  Sam realised that she was moving forward again as the dancer made a beckoning gesture towards the crowd of women – towards her.

This could not be happening.

The tiny figure stepped off the stage, the crowd parting before her as she walked towards Sam.  "Dance with me," she said.  Caught somewhere between flight and very possibly wetting herself, Sam hesitated.

"It's all right.  You can come on stage if I ask."  There it was again, the feeling of familiarity.  Instinctively Sam knew that whatever happened this evening she could trust this stranger.  She would come to no harm.

"Okay," she whispered and followed the woman up onto the stage.  The smaller woman reached up to touch her hair.

"May I touch your body?"

Please please please a little voice in her mind chanted.  Sam took a deep shuddering breath.  "Yes," she whispered.

"What can I call you?"

"Uh… uh… Emily," Sam said, remembering the song that had prompted this whole chain of events.

The dancer smiled, obviously recognising a stage name when she saw it.  "Very well, Emily."  She leaned forward and kissed Sam on the lips.  Dazedly, Sam recognised the touch from her dreams.  What was going on here?  She could not repress the moan that escaped her at the contact, her hands now resting on the dancer's shoulders.  Her kisses tasted of coffee.  Sam realised that her hands were trembling as she slid her hands down to stroke and cup the dancer's full breasts.  The dark eyes smiled up at her as she broke the contact between them. Sam thought for a moment that she would die on the spot if that was all that was to happen tonight.

"Undress me, Emily."

Sam forced herself to keep breathing.  This went so far beyond anything she was expecting this evening.  Her imagination kept investing the masked figure before her with a particular face, a particular identity.  So many of her fantasies were being fulfilled tonight.  It was only a pity that it was in front of an audience.  But as she knelt before the diminutive figure and began to touch her, easing the dress from her slender frame, Sam forgot about the audience, forgot about Sam and her unease, her fantasies about Janet Fraiser.  She was Emily and Emily did not know about Janet Fraiser.  They had never met.  She was Emily and this was L'Enigme who wanted her to undress her.  The dress was discarded and Emily ran her fingers lightly up the bare skin of the woman's calf, smiling at the soft moans she was the catalyst for.  She kissed her way up, until a slight pressure on her head stopped her.  A silent gesture told her to stand.  L'Enigme ran her hands over her hips and began to dance with her.

"I'm going to undress you."

Emily retreated for a moment under Sam's sudden panic.  "What?"

"I'm going to undress you.  Is that okay?"  Deep brown eyes sought hers.  Trust me.  And Sam found that she could.  She let herself slide under again.

"Yeah.  Okay," Emily said.

Small, dexterous fingers unbuttoned Emily's blouse, soft lips kissed their way across the rise of her breasts, a tongue dipped teasingly into her cleavage.  Emily gasped as her bra parted.  She knew she would be blushing. 

"It's all right," the dancer assured her.  "It's okay.  You have a beautiful body."

Now her upper body was bare, the dancer's hands smoothing over her breasts, her abdomen, her lips tracing the line of her collarbone, the length of her neck. 

"Undo my bustier," the dancer commanded.

Emily was obedient.  She could hear the crowd getting rowdier, egging her on as slowly she loosened the strings, pulling them through the eyelets, the leather soft and supple under her finger.  L'Enigme pulled off the bustier and dropped it to the floor.  Emily cupped Janet's breasts, the soft heaviness sending sensations shooting through her body.  "You're beautiful," she whispered.

"You've never seen my face," the dancer whispered.  "You are beautiful…"  They kissed again.

"You taste like chocolate and coffee," Emily whispered, giggling.  She felt drunk, so far removed from her normal self.

"I hope you like coffee."  There it was, the inflection in the voice that was almost familiar, to Sam if not to Emily.  Emily had never met Janet Fraiser, did not know the effect that her softly accented voice had on the Air Force Major.

"Oh yeah," Emily whispered.  They continued to kiss and touch each other's bodies.  The dancer's hands were on the waistband of her jeans now, undoing the clasp, her fingers creeping inside, stroking her.  Emily felt herself tremble and knew that she would fall any second.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you want me to stop?" the dancer asked.

The idea of this exquisite torture stopping was too much to bear.  "No… touch me harder," Emily gasped.

L'Enigme reached up for another kiss, gently biting at Emily's lower lip.  "We can't do much here.  What are you doing in twenty minutes?"


The exotic masked woman led Emily back stage and after a quick whispered conversation with the club's owner, upstairs to a private room.  Emily was still in a daze as the dancer finished undressing her, kissing her way down her abdomen and her thigh before pushing her onto the bed and straddling her.  Somehow the dancer was also naked, apart from the mask.

"Aren't you going to take off the mask?" Emily asked.

"No?" The dancer kissed Emily on the lips again, her tongue thrusting demandingly into Emily's in her mouth and then began to kiss her way down Emily's body.  Deep inside, Sam watched and wondered.  To say this was unexpected was an understatement.  To say she was enjoying every moment of it was a revelation.

"I've never made love to a woman before," she admitted.  But she had thought about it.  Recently, she had thought about it a lot.  Especially with… but that was Sam and not Emily.  And tonight she was Emily.

"It's okay," L'Enigme whispered.  "I'll teach you."

The intensity was nothing like she had expected.  Both of them seemed possessed by something, a spirit, a need greater than they had ever experienced.  They tortured each other taking each other to the brink again and again.  Towards the end Emily went away and she was just Sam again.  Sam Carter who was tasting the sweetness of another woman on her tongue unable to keep the tears from her eyes and not knowing whether they were tears of happiness at having given in at last to her secret self or tears of anger that she had been so weak and so out of control in the first place.

She woke alone.  The dancer was gone, but the smell of her was all over the bedding and Sam's skin, the evidence of their lovemaking still apparent in the marks of teeth and nails on her body and in the soreness of her muscles.  It was early morning, the club was quiet.  The security guard smiled at her as she left, not an unpleasant smile but one of complicity.  Sam smiled back knowing that she would never see him again.  She could never come back here.  This was not a place where Major Doctor Samantha Carter could be seen.

But Emily.  Emily was free to play as she pleased.  And somewhere out there in the real world, the waking world, an enigmatic dancer was waiting to be found.



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