Mannequin

Quick songfic I wrote after listening to Katy Perry's Mannequin, Sam's POV about a certain Colonel.

Sam stared at her laptop screen, not really seeing what was on it. SG1 had been ordered back to the SGC after Anubis's fleet was destroyed by Colonel O'Neill, and were supposed to be on downtime.

How do I get closer to you when you put it all on mute? How will I know the right way to love you?

She had gone to his house before the mission had been approved, intending on telling him how she felt, but Daniel and Teal'c had shown up before she'd had a chance to say anything. 'It couldn't have gone down any other way…I just hope it's worth it.' He had said. She didn't know what to say, afraid of truly voicing her feelings, her emotions.

Usually the queen of figuring out, breaking down a man is no work out. But I have no clue how to get through to you.

Her heart ached. In the past two months so much had gone on, passing her by in a blur. She was in a relationship, and not where she wanted to be, her best friend had been killed in the line of duty, and now her commanding officer and the man who held her heart was in stasis in the frozen wasteland of Antarctica.

Oh oh oh, I wanna hit you just to see if you cry. I keep knocking on wood hoping there's a real boy inside.

He was closed off before it happened, before the ancient repository, but no more so than usual. After the download he was reclusive, and Sam knew why. It was frustrating to him, not knowing what was going on in his own mind. He hated being out of control, and he lashed out at everyone, herself included. She was angry with him after that, but she didn't want to stay that way…it was difficult.

Cause you're not a man you're just a mannequin. I wish you could feel that my love is real, but you're not a man.

She wanted to yell, to scream and hit him, make him talk to her, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Because for all it was worth, she would be wasting energy hitting him. It wouldn't hurt him the way she wanted it to. She wanted to hurt him, make him open up to her, to let him know that she was there.

I wish I could turn you on, put a battery in and make you talk. Even pull a string for you to say anything.

She hated how private he was, how he thought revealing the softer side of his personality was a sign of weakness. He always pulled the 'way of the warrior' crap, preached it to her when she got emotionally involved. But she knew he was doing it to protect her from herself, and so far he had succeeded.

But with you there is no guarantee, only expired warranty. A bunch of broken parts and I can't seem to find your heart.

She had tried to help him after his experience with Baal, letting him know she was there, if he needed that shoulder to cry on. But she knew he would never accept it. He hadn't even thanked her for the offer.

Cause you're not a man, you're just a mannequin. I wish you could feel that my love is real, but you're not a man.

You're just a toy, could you ever be a real, real boy. And understand but you're not a man.

She knew how he had felt in the past, knew that the feelings he had ran deeper than they should, but she had reciprocated them when she confessed to having the same feelings. She was beginning to second guess them now. It had been three years since she had suggested they 'leave it in the room' but it had escaped before the door closed. She could see the way he looked at her. Small glances, but that was it.

If the past is the problem, our future could solve them baby. I could bring you to life if you let me inside. It'll hurt but in the end, you'll be a man…

So now she sat, staring at her computer screen, alone with her thoughts. Memories of him flooding to the surface as the tears began to fall.

Cause you're not a man, you're just a mannequin. I wish you could feel that my love is real, but you're not a man.