No. 8

Prompt: Stargate SG-1, clone!Sam/clone!Jack, the clones (secretly) celebrate their original birthdays & ages
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/688536.html?thread=90437016#t90437016

The salesman in the ill-fitting suit looks skeptical when Jack runs his hand over the hood of the candy apple red Mustang, like he can't believe a kid Jack's age can afford so fine a car. (As one of the two owners of McNeill-Carter Enterprises, the leading provider of earth-alien hybrid technology to the USAF, he can afford whatever the hell he wants.)

"Are you sure this is the car you want? You don't want to consider something more...practical?" The salesman glances toward another section of the lot. He means cheaper.

Jack shakes his head and grins. "Nope. Always wanted one of these. For my mid-life crisis and all."

Beside him, Sam laughs. "You're a little late for your mid-life crisis, sir." She's joking. She got over calling him 'sir' back when they were still pretending they were in high school.

"I didn't get one last time, so this time I'm celebrating early." Jack shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets, the same boyish gesture he'd kept years after he'd stopped being a boy the first time around.

"In that case," Sam said, "let me celebrate my own mid-life crisis by taking up with a criminally young but very handsome boy-toy."

Jack arches an eyebrow. "Boy-toy, you say?"

Sam catches him by the tie and yanks him in for a kiss.

The salesman hovers between them and the car, uncomfortable, but Sam doesn't care.

Jack pulls back from her eventually, laughing softly. Then he grins at the salesman once more. "Where do I need to sign to get the keys to this thing?"