Author's Note: Unbeta'd. Also, this made sense in my head – a very scary place to be – so hopefully it worked okay.
Rated T for mild suggestive content.
Ask a Silly Question by SqueeG-1
"If you were, you'd be a killer."
"Excuse me?" Sam responded, her tone turning icy and her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"A killer."
"Get away from me, Jack." Sam shoved him but Jack caught her hands easily, pinning them away from him and planting a kiss on the bare strip of her stomach where Sam's shirt had ridden up. Jack continued to talk as he kissed his way up along her side, ignoring Sam's struggles.
"If I agreed with you… and I'm not saying I do… but if you were… you would definitely be a killer. After all, they are impeccably fashionable."
Sam's irritation was still smouldering, but her blossoming confusion had her asking, "Fashionable?"
"Mmhm. Black and white. Timeless. Classic. You can't go wrong with black and white." Feeling Sam's annoyance easing at his words, Jack kissed the side of her neck and then continued speaking.
"And then there's the grin."
"The grin?"
"Yup, they grin. It's cute." Jack kissed the corner of Sam's mouth as she fought her own smile. Her lips parted as Jack's mouth moved over onto her own. One of Sam's recently released hands threaded into his hair, her thumb rubbing against Jack's temple.
Their tongues battled until Jack broke the kiss to continue his explanation.
"Then there's the fact that they're deadly. After all, why else would we call them killers?"
"Actually, that's because…" Sam broke off her explanation at the chiding look on Jack's face. Rolling her eyes, she played along with his little game. All trace of iciness was gone as Sam grinned up at her husband.
"Deadly, huh?"
"Oh yeah. P-90s, C-4, level three hand-to-hand. The grin. I don't know how I never made the connection before."
Sam punched Jack hard, but playfully, on the shoulder and he retaliated by kissing her again, this time breaking off when he felt Sam tense.
"Help you over?"
With a sigh, Sam nodded, her mouth now twisted into a wry grin, laced with discomfort.
After helping Sam roll over onto her side, Jack gently massaged the muscles in her back until he felt the muscles loosen. He edged himself over on the bed until he was spooned up right behind Sam and propped his head up on one hand so he could see her face. Sam was smiling contentedly, her eyes closed. The fingers of Jack's other hand tangled with Sam's on her swollen abdomen and Sam shifted their hands around so that Jack could feel the kicking within her.
They lay side by side quietly for several minutes before Jack spoke again while rubbing his lower body against Sam suggestively.
"So, what kind of whale do you think I am?"
Shaking with laughter, Sam replied, "Forget it. That's how I got into this mess in the first place."
Author's Note: For those of you pondering what I was pondering, I think the conversation started with Sam commenting, "I'm a whale. Don't you think I'm a whale?"
Thanks for reading.