A response to a request by my lovely singing friend.

All mistakes are my own.

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The flashbacks are the worst part . One moment he's fine, the next he can hear something as simple as a dripping faucet, or a steak sizzling on the BBQ and he is instantly transported back to Ba'als compound, held by some strange magnetic force against a barrier of steel. He can hear Ba'als voice demanding he give up secrets he doesn't know or laughing maniacally. Watch, helplessly, as the unhinged system lord, tortures him, first with knives, "dropping" them into the gravity field, and thus into his chest and later, tipping a bottle of innocent yellow milky liquid in his direction when his answers aren't detailed enough. Writhe in agony when the tal'vak acid burns through his clothing and sizzle through his skin. They all say he has been betrayed by him...Kanan. And Jack agrees in parts. It is true that Jack has been forced to participate in freeing Shaylan, Kanans lover, Ba'als Lo-taur, but Jack can understand Kanans desperation. He has felt it once before, back on Apophis' new ship, when Carter was trapped behind a force shield and he had been fully sure he was going to watch her die in front of his eyes. His Carter...his Sam.

It has been several weeks since Jack had escaped after Lord Yu's fleet had attacked. Several weeks of psych evals to repair his mind and visits to Janet to repair his body. He still wasn't 100%. He wasn't truly sure if he ever would be. Several weeks since Sam had come to him in the infirmary, stood before him, told him that she feared he was dead, and that this was a dream her mind had concocted to ease her unending grief. Since she placed her hand on his chest and whispered that she just needed to feel that he was real, that he was still alive. Several weeks since he'd gathered her in his arms and told her that the thoughts of getting back to her were the only thing that had kept him sane and that even at his lowest point, when he wanted to die, his biggest regret would have been not holding her like this. She was that one last thread of hope that refused to snap.

He looks across his kitchen towards his dining room, where his team stand, all chatting animatedly, glasses in hand. All but her. No, she is nodding at Jonas but looking at him, searching his face for a sign that this shindig isn't having the opposite effect to its original purpose. They had all voiced their concerns when he announced he wanted the base to come for a Sunday BBQ, asked if it was a good idea, given the circumstances. He, desperate to move on and be "the old pre torture Jack O'Neill" had insisted it was just what he needed. But now, standing in the midst of all the chaos, his decision seems foolish. The noise from the gathering of friends and colleagues on his back porch seems deafening and he has to excuse himself and retreat to his kitchen. And when that hadn't been quiet enough, to the laundry room behind the kitchen. He stands, in the cramped room, hands on the counter top and with his eyes closed, takes three deep breaths, just like Dr Gibson has told him to. He inhales and imagines blowing the sounds of Ba'al laughing out of his mind, blowing the pain away, the feeling of tightness in his chest easing somewhat.

The sound of the door clicking quietly behind him, stirs him from his meditative state.

"Sir?" He hears her say. "Are you ok?"

"Just needed a moment to gather my thoughts", he replies, and turns towards her. "I feel like I should be over this already dammit. How long did it take for Jolinar to leave your mind completely?"

"I don't think she ever will." Sam says softly , "but your speed doesn't matter, forward is forward."

He'd asked her when he got back about Jolinar, and she had explained how she felt like she wasn't sure who's memories and who's feelings were who's. He understood what she meant completely.

She takes a step forward and places her hand on his chest again, and says confidently, "Sir, you can blame me. I don't regret suggesting it. It was either that or you were dead and that was, well..."

He reaches down and grasps her wrist, the anger in him bubbling almost to boiling point.

"This ...thing," he spits out, "it took over my body. It used me. And then when it really mattered, it fucking deserted me and left me to die. If I blame anyone, it's the snake, not you."

He hasn't realised but he has been inching towards her, pulled to her magnetically, like the same force that kept him attached to the metal gate in Ba'als compound and they are almost nose to nose in the small room by the time he is finished speaking. She blinks, doesn't move away like he expects her to, but instead, looks at his lips and then back up to his eyes and before he can overthink the situation, he kisses her. Hard. He expects her to pull back, to gasp or push him away but to his thrill and surprise, she doesn't. Instead, she kisses him with the same force, every unsaid word, every ounce of want and need finally exploding forth. Her lips feel softer than he'd imagined and she tastes of strawberries and lime, like that Swedish drink he can't pronounce she'd picked up in that little specialty liquor store on 5th. She hadn't expected him to kiss her, so their hands have settled awkwardly between them, creating a temporary barrier that he is all too happy to break. He pulls their hands from between them and gathers her closer to his body, her hands running up his arms, and around his neck where they instinctively curl into the slightly longer silver hair at his nape. She moans when his hands graze the swell of her ass and smiles when he mumbles into her mouth that she needs to keep quiet because half the base are on the other side of the door she's currently pressed against. Even he can admit that this information adds a little something special to the situation.

His lips move to her neck and her body shudders when he whispers in her ear that he wants her... all of her. He needs to make sure he's real too, that this isn't some fucked up state of limbo before he either goes up or down, the decision yet to be made by a higher power. She nods her agreement and gasps "want you too, Sir," sucks his tongue into her mouth and starts to unbutton his black shirt. She wants me too. If this is limbo, he thinks, I don't care which way I go, this will be the ultimate ending to a life hard lived. He pulls at her top and lifts it easily over her head, exposing the swell of her breasts, the sudden expanse of alabaster skin that he's never been privy to but has dreamed about for so long now before him and runs his thumbs over her now erect nipples, which are straining against the simple white lace of her bra. He notes with interest how her hips seem to move of their own volition when he swipes his thumbs across her nipples. She moans again and he covers her mouth with his own to quieten her reactions. He says something even he can't decipher, he thinks it's a mixture of "I love you" and "feels amazing" but her tongue is in his mouth and he's lost all sense of coherence. He kisses along her neck to her earlobe and her skin erupts in goosebumps, the 2 day old stubble gently scratching at her sensitive skin.

"Waited long enough Sam" he says and she nods, her nipples straining against the simple white lace of her bra. He pulls the fabric down so her breasts are pushed up and out, looks down between them, groans and bends to take a swipe at one erect bud, then the other. He spins her 90 degrees, runs his hands up her legs, dragging her skirt along with it and squeezes the lace covered globes of her ass, then lifts her onto the edge of the counter top. The sound of him lowering his zipper and pushing his pants down his legs is mixed with their ragged breathing and the air seems thicker somehow, like you could slice it with a knife. Jack hooks a finger under her panties, and pulls them to the side, grins as he notices how wet she is already and tells her to hold on to him because this will be fast and hard, because it's exactly what they both need after thinking they had lost each other forever. She just nods, says "yes" and pulls his face towards her so she can kiss him again.

He enters her in one long hard thrust, as her tongue duels with his and he has to squeeze his eyes closed to stop himself from crying out. Her legs are curled around his waist, his hands are on her hips and she is tilted to just the right angle to make him want to lose his fucking mind. He hears voices in the kitchen just beyond the door to his left and stills inside her, lips still firmly on hers, recognising first Hammond and Walters voices wondering where they could have gone and then Teal'c explaining that perhaps they are outside. He leans back slightly, winks at her, withdraws and thrusts again, harder this time and she can't help the noise that escapes her lips. His hand shoots to her mouth and clasps over her lips and her eyes widen when he quietly groans on every thrust;

"STAY. QUIET. SAM. SOMEONE. MIGHT. HEAR. US. "

She snakes out her tongue to taste the palm of his hand while it's clamped over her mouth. He likes this dynamic, face to face, his cock sliding in and out of her slickness and her eyes growing larger every time she hears a voice on the other side of the door question where they might have gone. She's getting close, he can feel it, she's started to match him thrust for thrust and the fingers on one hand are twisting into the hair on his head while the other holds onto his shoulder. It's painful, deliciously so, and he knows he will feel it later, but that just adds to the whole experience. She moans into his hand as she begins to unravel and he replaces his hand with his lips, both his hands moving to either side of her face. Her legs pull him tightly into her centre and he thrusts into her fluttering core twice before he loses all control and empties himself into her, both of their mouths open in a silent scream. It's intense and hot and everything he knew they could be, made even more illicit by the fact that almost every member of their base is standing within 15 foot of where they are, his pants around his ankles, her skirt around her waist, both looking positively wanton...

TBC