Title: Safe Distance
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing/Category: Sam/Jack Fluff, Smut
Rating: R
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: This is a sequel to Pretense, involving, among other things, onions, the myth of Jack's inability to grill, and ice cream. My thanks to pepper for her fabulous beta skills.

Sam watched Jack chop the onions from a safe distance.

After the first spaghetti night they had silently and mutually agreed that cooking together was a bad idea-which didn't explain how Jack had found his way to her house the next week, grocery bag in tow.

No, that was Daniel's fault. He had insisted that spaghetti, even with homemade sauce, was cooking that anybody could do, and that they should make something more difficult next week.

That was several weeks ago, and they hadn't missed a week yet-except for that one time they had been on a Goa'uld mothership. Sam figured it was some sort of record for the most Fridays she'd been on-world in any given year.

Jack finished slicing the onions into neat rows and turned the cutting board, deftly cutting the other way, moving much faster than she could ever hope to replicate, considering she was so sensitive to onions that she got out a pair of swimming goggles when she had to cut them on her own.

Jack took care of the onion-slicing without even asking any more.

"Are the avocados ready?" Jack asked.

Sam jumped. "Uh-" she looked down at the bowl in her hands. "Almost," she said sheepishly, and proceeded to mash them down. They all loved fresh guacamole, so it had become a staple of their dinners, at least during the summer.

They finished the guacamole in silence, each having their own tasks perfectly timed-not bumping into each other every five seconds like they used to.

It was, Sam decided, comfortable. Really, she thought, all that tension from the first time was probably just because it was something so new, so far from their usual habits.

She snorted. It wasn't like either of them was going to jump the other just because they were in a kitchen instead of on Chulak.

They finished in the kitchen and started moving everything out to the deck-Jack's, because hers didn't have room for a grill, let alone a table, and her yard needed a lot of work. Jack checked his watch. "Should I start it up?"

It was a little early, but Sam figured it would take a few minutes to heat up the coals. "Sure," she said. They had a deal: Jack prepped the grill and put the meat on, and Sam took it from there. She was a surprisingly good griller, and while Jack would never admit he wasn't, he was somehow always otherwise occupied when it was time to check the meat.

He began to stack the charcoal, and Sam opened two beers, handing one to him and sipping at the second, looking over the yard. It was a beautiful night. The sun was just setting, and there was a fresh breeze that felt wonderful. She looked up-she couldn't see any stars yet, but the sky was a brilliant mix of blues, purples and reds, and it definitely rivaled anything she'd seen out there.

Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the display. It was Daniel, probably asking what he was supposed to bring again.

She flipped it open. "Hey, Daniel."

Behind her, Jack clicked on the lighter.

"Hey," Daniel said. "So, Teal'c had a friend come into town."

"Is everything okay?" Sam said, instantly ready for action, even though the idea she could do anything from Jack's house was slightly ridiculous. Out of the corner of her eye, Jack reacted exactly the same way, stiffening and drawing the lighter away from the coals.

"Oh! No, no problems. An old friend," Daniel said, meaning Bra'tac. "Looks like it's more or less a social call." That meant Bra'tac had non-urgent intel.

"Need us there?" Sam said.

"Nah. Just wanted to let you know we wouldn't make it."

"Thanks," Sam said.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go... visit."

"Have fun," Sam said.

"You, too!"

Daniel hung up, and Sam turned to Jack.

"Problem?"

Sam shook her head and gave him the summary.

Jack looked at the neatly-stacked coals, and then at her. "Wanna call it off?" he said.

Sam hesitated. It was probably not a good idea to stick around, but... well, the charcoal was already stacked, and the steaks were ready. It seemed a shame to let it all go to waste.

"Nah. Light her up," she said.

Jack grinned and set the coals ablaze.

Dinner was delicious-Sam outdid herself on the steak if she said so herself, and the guacamole was perfection. They didn't bother making anything else since it was just the two of them. Besides, they had dessert.

Or at least they would once they churned it.

Last week, Sam had been digging through Jack's garage for a car part he swore he had, and had found an old-fashioned ice cream maker. She'd managed to convince the others they should at least try it once. Between the four of them, it was almost easy, and they had enjoyed the final product so much they had decided to do it again tonight.

Of course, between just her and Jack it was a little more difficult, but they managed eventually, Sam putting her foot on the churn to steady it while Jack cranked, straining with the effort. Even though the sun had set, it was still light enough that Sam could see the muscles in his shoulders moving beneath his shirt. The view was a nice side benefit to doing this with the team, she thought, but it was more than that-since they had begun this whole cooking thing, she had felt... connected to them, even more than she had before. Especially Jack. Sometimes it felt like they spent so much time not seeing each other except as team mates that it was hard to remember they could be friends, too.

"I love this," Sam said.

Jack looked up, and instantly Sam knew she had made a miscalculation, because Jack's eyes reflected anything but friendship, and she realized that her perfectly innocent thoughts had had something else behind them, too.

She had been trying to forget how this had started. It seemed they didn't learn from their mistakes.

For one long moment, there was nothing between them except space.

"Jack," Sam said, the word dragging itself from her lips. She wasn't trying to be cruel, but she saw him flinch anyway. She took her foot off the churn, backed away.

Jack got to his feet. "You should go," he said, echoing her own thoughts.

Sam looked at the bucket, and then at his eyes. He had shuttered himself up again, and she swallowed.

"It is getting late," she said. She intended to leave, she did, but her feet seemed glued to the deck.

"Carter," Jack growled.

Sam's heart raced in her ears. She looked at Jack. Jack looked back.

"I-" she said, but her words were swallowed up as Jack moved. One second they were feet apart, and then there was no distance at all. Still, just before he kissed her, Jack paused.

"Last chance," he said.

In response, Sam grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips to hers.

There were few worse ideas than kissing your commanding officer, but kissing him on the deck of his house was probably one of them.

Sam didn't care. Kissing Jack was, was...

...right.

Sam had never been one to lose her head, not really, but it was different with Jack. She had known it would be; she suspected that when they had decided to ignore what was between them, it had gone right on growing behind the locked door.

Now that door was open, and it was overwhelming.

Sam wasn't quite sure how long they kissed out there in view of anyone who might happen by. It felt like forever, and it felt like no time at all, but eventually she needed to breathe. She rested her head on Jack's shoulder, feeling it rise and fall beneath her.

"Okay," she said, her voice just a little unsteady. "They way I see it, we have two options." Jack didn't say anything, so she continued. "Option one: I go home, and we can pretend this never happened. Option two-"

He was already kissing her again, which was just fine with her, except-she tore herself away.

"Option two," she said, "we go inside."

Jack blinked and then looked around. "Oh," he said, as if just now noticing where they were.

Yeah, that didn't make Sam feel smug at all.

They left the ice cream maker on the deck.

Jack's room was stifling, so they took a few extra seconds to open the windows. Sam finished first, so she quickly shucked her shoes and socks.

Jack grabbed her wrists before she untucked her shirt. "Let me," he said, his voice low and rough. Sam's pulse thudded as Jack slowly drew it from her jeans. His hands skimmed her sides as he pushed the material up and over her head, tossing it on top of her shoes. He pressed his hands to her stomach, trailing his fingers down and hooking them into her waistband.

"Come here," he said, tugging her with him to the bed.

She managed to take off his shirt before he lowered her onto the bed, trapping her beneath him as he slowly pulled off her jeans. She let him take them, and then she flipped them, returning the favour. She reached up behind her back, unclasped her bra, and Jack hooked a finger in the space between her breasts, pulled it off and then drew her down to kiss her, letting his fingers caress her nipples to hard points. She ground against him through her underwear, his boxers, and felt rather than heard his groan.

"Still too many clothes," she mumbled against his mouth. She sat up and then stripped them both quickly, and then, before Jack could think about moving, she straddled him again. He let out a short protest, but she just said "My turn first," and he lay back, giving her a small smirk.

She kissed her way down his body, sucking and using her teeth just a little, making him shift underneath her. She wrapped her hand around his cock and his hips jerked. She watched him as he responded to her touch, his eyelids half-closed, and the thought that he trusted her like this blew her away.

She moved back up his body and kissed him, needing him now, and he put his fingers inside her, sliding along her wetness and then back to her clit, circling it.

She took his cock in her hand again, and guided him into her, and then she was stretching around him, so slowly the muscles in her thighs protested. She could tell the slowness was torturing Jack, too, but it had been a while, and she needed to adjust.

Slowly, she began to move, once she felt the ache instead of the stretch. Jack let out a quiet groan, and then his fingers were back in the mix, between them, and it was exactly what she needed. She ground down, her head snapping back, and she caught the barest hint of a whine from her throat before she trembled and fell, Jack catching her.

She was boneless, and Jack rolled her onto her back, kissing her as she sank into the pillows. She felt warm, liquid, and it was all she could do to wrap her arms around him as he covered her. He thrust inside her, setting a faster pace than before, and although she knew she wouldn't come a second time, she felt the ache again as she lifted her hips to meet him.

It was good, so good, and she could only hold on. Jack's eyes closed, and she watched him as he came, taking in every detail-the way he felt on top of her, the way he smelled, the way he said her name and the way he tasted as she kissed him, eyes still open as he stilled, withdrew.

He collapsed at her side. Sam's body felt heavy, her skin delightfully warm, her sweat evaporating and cooling her off, even though the temperature of the room was still too hot.

Jack groaned and shifted, rolling to the side of the bed and up. "Stay here," he said, and disappeared into the hall.

Sam watched him go, wondering what he was doing—and then her brain turned back on, frantically trying to evaluate this new reality. For a second, she just stared at the ceiling, feeling just a little unreal. Had she really just had sex with Jack? With her-

"Okay," Jack said returning with the ice cream tub in his hands, "I just want to say, before either of us freaks out, that there is no thinking allowed in this room." He paused. "Or the rest of my house. Including the deck."

It was enough. Sam laughed. "That explains it, then," she said. She rolled onto her side to look at him.

Jack smiled. "Hey."

She smiled back. "Hey."

He looked down her body and said, "It's warm in here."

"A little," Sam said. Her body was finally starting to move from pleasantly warm to hot and sticky.

Jack handed her the tub and sat back down on the bed. "Windows," he said, as if he needed to explain.

Sam found a spoon stuck into the tub, but before she could use it Jack grabbed it and licked off part of the ice cream. "Pretty good," he said. He took another spoonful, but held it out for her.

Sam shifted closer so their bodies were touching again, and tasted the ice cream. It was a little soft, but still cold—smooth and sweet vanilla melting in her mouth. She sighed happily.

Jack watched her, a small quirk of his lips announcing his amusement, and Sam grinned. "Delicious," she proclaimed. She took the spoon and put it back in the tub before kissing him again, still tasting ice cream on their tongues.

It was even better this way.

Sam felt something cold slide against her hip and jerked upright to find that Jack had let the ice cream container drop against her—and it was cold.

"Oops," Jack said, looking entirely unrepentant.

Sam rolled her eyes, making a note to raid the freezer for ice cubes later on, and grabbed the ice cream out of his hands. She settled against his headboard and dug in. After a second, Jack joined her, and they battled for control of the spoon.

Wresting away temporary control, Jack took a huge bite of ice cream, swallowed, and said, "Okay, so we need a plan."

"You said no thinking!" Sam said.

"I didn't say we had to think about it," Jack said, sounding injured.

"Okay, so we need a plan, but can't think about it."

"...Maybe we better wing it."