Getting to Know You – Chapter 4

Disclaimer in Index


(Here! Samantha is coming here! Today! Soon!) Martouf repeated, elated as he scurried to his quarters.


<Martouf! Calm down!> Lantash shouted, curbing his own feelings of excitement. <Perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity to tell Samantha of our growing feelings for her.> He thought.


(You cannot be serious, Lantash. I do not wish to scare her away.)


Lantash guffawed. <Oh please, Martouf. Now would be a perfect time. Besides, seeing those pictures we’ve taken from Jacob of her, she is more than likely to suspect something.>


(Then I will hide them. Our relationship with Samantha is tentative and new, Lantash. We should not try to push her into something else too fast and too soon.) Martouf scolded, swiftly dodging his fellow Tok’ra, ignoring the surprised and curious looks on their faces.


<Martouf, we are Tok’ra and she is of the Tau’ri. If there is one thing we both have in common is that when fighting the Goa’uld, none of us are assured of how long we will live. Should we not learn from this and cherish each moment of the time we *do* have? I know you agree with me when I say that it is better to take the chance and reveal our feelings for Samantha than live in regret of what could have been if something should happen. We owe it to ourselves and to Samantha to show her how we feel. Besides, judging from what Jacob so subtly told us, Samantha is developing feelings for us as well. Let us not waste this opportunity.>


Martouf sighed, rounding a corner. (You are right, Lantash.)


“Martouf!” A deep male voice shouted from behind him and Martouf cringed. (And here I was, in such a good mood. Lantash, would you like to handle this?)


<Try to end this before my patience wears out, Martouf. If he persists, I *will* be forced to hurt him. This I have no qualms with.> Lantash grounded out as Martouf turned to face Durien.


Bowing his head, Martouf greeted his fellow Tok’ra. “Hello Durien. How are you?”


Durien waved his hand irritably. “Mala and I had an argument and now I cannot find her.” He glared at Martouf. “Knowing her, I can automatically guess where she could have gone. Have you seen her?”


Martouf shrugged. “I have yet to see her, Durien. I have spent the greater part of my morning conversing with Jacob.” Rolling his eyes mentally, Martouf resisted the urge to tell Durien to go away and leave him alone; he had no time to deal with Durien’s jealous insecurities and was tempted to tell him so.


Crossing his arms angrily, Durien continued to glare at Martouf. “Are you quite sure of that Martouf? You and I both know that Mala has somewhat of an attraction to you, though I do not know why. You would be the first person she would seek out.”


Gritting his teeth and wanting to give in to the impulse to injure Durien, Martouf curbed his violent thoughts that would be considered mild in comparison to the bloody and murderous thoughts of Lantash. “Do not call me a liar, Durien. I have made it clear to on numerous occasions that I do not think of Mala in such a way.” Except that she is the most annoying woman I have ever met and that you two deserve each other, he mentally added. Lightly gripping the pictures of Samantha still in his hand, Martouf bit out his next words. “Perhaps if you could control your temper and your jealousies, you and Mala would not have these constant fights that serve only to interrupt more important things going on with the Tok’ra. And I would also like to inform you that I do not appreciate having my words doubted nor do I like being insulted and I would advise you not to do so again. My temper is nothing compared to that of Lantash’s, who would like nothing better that to hurt you repeatedly with a sharp-edged blade.” Curling one hand into a fist, Martouf shook with anger as he forced himself to turn away from Durien and walk calmly to his quarters.


Once there, he exhaled heavily and shut his eyes, trying to calm himself down. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and scanned his room, taking in the slightly messy décor. Lovingly placing his collection of Samantha pictures amidst his other belongings, Martouf darted around his room, tidying it up a bit. Smoothing down his hair and adjusting his uniform, Martouf was struck with a thought.


(Should I change into one of my more formal uniforms?) He asked, scrutinizing his tan uniform.


If Lantash had a physical body of his own, he would’ve rolled his eyes and slapped Martouf upside the head for his ridiculousness. <No, just calm down and relax. Samantha will not be arriving until a while later. Just sit down and finish those reports on your desk while we wait. You do not want work to interfere during Samantha’s stay here do you?>


(Oh. Of course not.) Martouf walked over to his desk and grabbed a couple of reports. Settling nicely into his chair, he began to work or at least, try to work as his thoughts strayed every once in awhile to the woman soon to be arriving through the Chappa’ai.



One hour and a dozen completed reports later, Martouf tried his best to remain calm, hands clasped tightly behind his back, as he walked alongside Jacob to the ring transporter and to the surface where Tok’ra guards had reported the activation of the Chappa’ai. Martouf resisted the urge to quicken his pace, threatening to leave Jacob behind.


<Lovesick fool.> Lantash remarked.


(Do not try to deny that all these feelings of excitement and trepidation belong to me, Lantash.) Martouf retorted.


<You forgot the intense desire we are feeling as random thoughts of kissing Samantha, touching her, and caressing her soft skin pop into our head.> Lantash added cheekily.


Shifting slightly as he walked, Martouf said, (Yes, I did that deliberately as it is causing me to react in such a manner that is not appropriate in the presence of Jacob, Samantha’s *father*. Lantash, stop that!) Martouf scolded as yet another picture of Samantha in a rather provocative pose flashed through his mind.


Lantash ‘laughed’ as Martouf scowled and was tempted to dunk himself in the nearest Tok’ra pool.


Reaching the transportation rings, Martouf took subtle deep breaths as he mentally checked off that everything had been done in preparation for Samantha’s arrival.


<Yes, I think your quarters must be spotless now that you’ve cleaned it four, no, five, no many times *did* you clean it?>


The smell of fresh air combined with the warmth from the sun caused Martouf to ignore Lantash’s mocking. Sucking in a breath, Martouf could spot Samantha standing in the distance, standing and talking to a few Tok’ra. Surprisingly, Martouf recognized Caldwen amongst the party.


“Sam!” Jacob shouted from beside Martouf, holding out his arms as he walked toward her.


Martouf watched as Samantha’s face brightened into a dazzling smile as jogged to hug her father. “Dad! I missed you...even though we just saw each other a few days ago.” Sam laughed, planting a kiss on her father’s cheek. Martouf felt his heart jump a bit, as Sam turned to him.


(Did her smile just become wider?) Martouf thought.


<Lovesick fool.>


“Hello Martouf. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other.” Martouf listened to Samantha’s voice and as he drank in her features, he wondered what she would do if he gave in Lantash’s suggestion of pulling her flush against him and smothering her with kisses. Sam hesitated at Martouf’s silence before laying a hand on his arm. “It’s good to see you again. I hope that we’ll get to spend some time with each other while I’m here.”


A picture that Lantash conjured up of both him and Samantha sleeping in the same bed caused Martouf’s eyes to widen slightly. He shook his head and grasped her hand in his, holding it lightly. “It is good to see you as well Samantha. If it pleases you, I offer myself as your guide during your stay, that is, if Jacob would not mind.” Martouf looked at Jacob, who appeared to be hiding a smile as he shook his head.


“Of course not, Martouf, please take my daughter.” Jacob joked.


Still holding Martouf’s hand, Sam flushed, glaring mockingly at her father. “Dad.”


Jacob chuckled. “What? He offered.” Wrapping an arm around his daughter’s waist, Jacob pulled her toward the rings. “Where are your bags, Sammy?”


Sam twisted her head. “Oh, um, Caldwen has them. He offered to carry them for me.”


Both Martouf and Jacob looked at Caldwen and at the look of his face; Jacob sniggered, as did Selmak. The same thought ran through their mind: Uh oh, here we go again. Martouf bristled as he took in the look of interest in Samantha on his friend’s face and the same thought crossed both his and Lantash’s mind: He best not try anything. Two words. Samantha...mine.