Team nights seldom happened these days. They were all so busy or so so tired or so tired of being busy... But the colonel had put his foot down after a particularly harrowing mission that had seen them trapped on the wrong side of the stargate for more than a day and a half while she jerry-rigged a way to get them home. It had been a close damn call, but they'd made it. And so he was feeling celebratory. He'd invited them over for a couple of movies and some food on the grill.

The food on the grill part of the evening went pretty much as expected. He'd burned the meat, she'd tossed a pasta salad, the guys had provided a green salad and a tray of brownies from the local grocery store. The beer flowed liberally, Teal'c stuck to diet soda, and somewhere around about dark they popped in a movie more for the background noise than anything else.

What she hadn't expected was the whiskey to make an appearance sometime around the start of the second movie. But it had. And by the time they'd made it to the second act, Daniel was passed out in the easy chair, Teal'c had given up on them all and had retired to the only guest room, and she and the colonel were sipping out of low-ball glasses like they weren't both on the far side of having had a little too much.

"We shouldn't have started with beer," she remarked, "tomorrow is going to suck."

"We'll sleep in, it'll be fine."

"Says you. I'm the one crashing on your couch."

"It's a comfy couch," he said, bouncing a little as if to make his point. All he succeeded in doing is splashing himself with his drink. He licked the alcohol off his wrist and it made her insides clench with longing. Damn it. So that was the portion of the night they'd made it to. It was inevitable what with the drinking.

"Daniel's going to be up early. He'll want coffee."

"Just tell him to shut up and let you sleep. He'll go find a book or something."

"Or he'll just go home."

"Nah, he'll wait until we're all up. He'll want to go to breakfast."

It was true. He liked going to breakfast after they'd all spent the night together. It had happened often enough in the earlier, easier years that they knew that much to be true. "Blankets?" She asked him.

"Haven't moved them," he told her.

She nodded and went to the hall closet to pull down an old, soft quilt she'd always liked when this had happened before.

"Kicking me out, huh?" he asked her, watching as she kicked her shoes off, pulled her belt off, and unbuttoned her overshirt and stripped it off revealing a tank top underneath tucked into her jeans.

"No, sir, just getting comfortable. The movie's not even over yet."

She sat next to him, half undressed, for the remainder of the movie, sipping her drink and getting more and more aroused by the presence of him. It was self-torture more than anything else, because he wasn't doing anything other than sitting there and breathing. But, sadly, that was all it really took these days – she was so far gone for him. And he was gone for her too which was the real reason team nights didn't happen so frequently anymore. They just didn't much feel like torturing one another. And that was all it had really been since their zatarc declarations and promises to keep it in the room. And that had been years ago.

When the credits rolled on the second film he collected their glasses and Daniel's too and carried them into the kitchen. She listened to the sound of him moving through the house. He came back and leaned against the wall, backlit by the hallway light, the blue glow from the television highlighting his face. "If you need anything, you know where I am."

Well, when had she ever needed anything? And boy howdy, did that ever sound like an invitation. She felt her insides light up with the idea of it. She murmured something at him and started tucking herself in on the couch. He watched for a moment and then turned and took himself off to bed.

She laid still for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, contemplating what he might have meant by that statement he'd never made before. Soon enough, though, she couldn't get the idea that maybe it had been an invitation of some kind out of her head. She crawled out of her cocoon on the couch and crept down the hallway to his bedroom.

She stood there for long moments, unsure of what she should do. She contemplated knocking but then decided knocking on his bedroom door could lead to things that they shouldn't be doing. Invitation or not. If he had been issuing an invitation she'd be smart to ignore it. They way they'd ignored every moment that had arisen between them over the years and avoided throwing everything away.

His door was just pushed to, not latched. She put her palm flat on the door and pushed. It opened slightly, silently, rubbing across the carpeting. It wasn't the same as knocking, she insisted to herself. This wasn't opening the door to something, this was cracking it. She stopped when it was opened mere inches but when she had a perfect view of the bed and him standing on the far side of it, his back to the door, naked as the day he was born. She took a moment to enjoy the unadulterated view of his shoulders and back, his narrow waist, his delectable ass, his thighs... Then she realized, his arm was moving, and she knew, by the way it was moving, he could only be doing one thing.

She stood stock still, afraid to move, afraid to make a sound lest she startled him and he stopped. She licked her lips, wishing she could see him. And then... glory be to whoever, he turned just enough that she could see him in profile.

He had his hand wrapped around his turgid cock and he stroked himself languidly, no need to rush his pleasure. She watched the way he handled himself, the way he used his thumb to spread his precum over the head of his steely cock and down his shaft to ease his movement. He fisted himself and pumped his hips into his hand.

She bit her lip. It took everything she had not to make a sound. Her mouth was watering at the sight of him. Oh, how she wanted to wrap her lips around him... She licked those very lips, imagining she could taste him there, salty and sharp. The low-level arousal that had been a pleasant hum in her all evening was now a wicked buzz that made her nipples and her clit ache to be touched. She lifted her hands to her breasts and gave them a squeeze to dissipate some of the tension she was feeling, never taking her eyes off of him and what he was doing right in front of her.

He was still stroking himself, completely oblivious to her. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, the only sounds escaping him were sharp pants in time with the rhythm of his hand. Just as she was wondering how he was managing to stay standing he opened his eyes. She barely restrained a gasp as she was so worried he'd spot her, but he never looked towards the door. He just maneuvered himself onto the bed and reclined onto the pillows.

His cock stood out proudly from his body as he clenched his hands on his thighs. He flexed his hips pressing up into the air and she wondered what it would have felt like if he were pressing up into her. Wondered, for just a moment, if that's what he was picturing, too. Then he groaned her name, long and low. She flooded wet, with a tingle. It took everything she had not to go to him.

He grasped his cock again and started tugging, his pace quickening along with his breaths. Sam wished she were closer so she could smell him, hear the sound of flesh on flesh. She wished she were in bed with him so she could touch him, feel the silk of his skin, the satiny smooth, precum slicked skin of his cock. God, she wanted to touch him.

She could see the way he glistened in the low light of his bedroom and it made her wetter to know he was wet with his own pleasure. And still she found herself wishing he was wet with hers. She watched the way his hand swirled over his sensitive head at the top of each stroke, a practiced motion that made her knees weak with the idea of him doing this regularly.

He picked up his pace again, his hand becoming a blur of motion as he jacked himself towards completion. Sounds began to issue from his throat, soft grunts and groans, occasionally... her name. Everytime he'd hit the C, her sex would clench hungrily for him.

As he got closer his rhythm began to falter. He groaned her name, "Sam," as he came, shot his come up across his belly, spilled it over his hand. She let her eyes wander up to his face and was shocked to see his eyes fixed on her. She gasped, realized she was still holding her breasts, reached out and grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door shut as quietly as possible as quickly as she could. She made haste back to the living room where she slid under what was surely his grandmother's quilt and tried not to feel like she'd just completely invaded his privacy.

But he didn't seem to mind. He hadn't looked angry. He'd looked... he'd looked nothing short of satisfied. How long had he been watching her while she'd been watching the way he'd stroked himself? She ached to shove her hand down her own pants and alleviate some of the arousal that had built up within her, but while she'd done a lot of things that night she'd never done before, masturbating in a room with Daniel wasn't going to be one of them. She contemplated getting up and going to the guest bathroom, but he'd hear her and he'd know what she was doing.

Was that so bad? She'd just watched him get off and he knew it. He hadn't come storming out of his bedroom – yet – to dress her down or kick her out of his house. For all she knew he was lying in his bed, happy and satiated, glad she'd watched, glad she'd taken him up on the invitation he'd issued. Because she was suddenly sure she was meant to see that show.

It made another flood of wetness rush into her panties. He'd wanted her to see him. He'd done that for her. Holy Hannah, what was going on?

It took her a long time to get to sleep. Every creek of the house settling she was sure was him coming down the hallway. For what, she was uncertain. But, it was never him. Finally, though, she must have drifted off because it was morning when she opened her eyes and the smell of coffee permeated the house.

She looked around. Daniel was in the easy chair sipping coffee and reading a book, just as the colonel had predicted. "Morning, sunshine," he said to her, a grin on his face.

"Morning," she croaked, and she wondered how bad she must look to have elicited such a greeting. After all, she'd been drinking, she'd gone to sleep without taking off her eye makeup, and she'd barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep at all.

"Jack left towels for you in the bathroom if you want to take a shower. We're going to breakfast."

"Where is he?"

"He and Teal'c went out to get more coffee. We brewed the last of it for a half a pot."

"Oh, okay." So she didn't have to face him, not until she'd had a shower. That was good, she figured.

She took her hot shower and redressed in the clothes she'd worn the night before, sans panties which she tucked into her purse when Daniel wasn't looking. Just as she settled back into the couch and turned on the television she heard the front door open. She was instantly on alert. It took a few minutes as he went into the kitchen first, presumably to put away the coffee, while Teal'c appeared and took a seat in another chair.

Moments later he appeared in the living room, he zeroed in on her, his eyes giving nothing away but his voice, was thick and low, like it had been the night before. "Carter," he said her name like he had when he was stroking himself and she just knew he did it on purpose.

"Good morning, sir."

He gave her a knowing half smile, most likely for her choice of the honorific after what she'd seen. "You up for breakfast?"

"Yes, sir." She couldn't seem to stop saying it.

"I'm going to take a shower and then we can go," he said.

"I'll make some more coffee," she said getting up and moving past him.

As she brushed by him he snagged her arm, and said lowly so only she could hear, "If you need anything, you know where I am."

She flushed with color, his meaning clear. He was changing the rules of the game between them. "I think I can manage coffee, sir," she said, just as quietly.

He trailed his fingers down her arm, smiled predatorially when she shuddered and then shrugged and winked at her. She felt her knees turn to jelly and suddenly wished she was wearing those used-up panties anyway.

As she made the coffee, Daniel and Teal'c were deep in conversation in the living room. She clearly wasn't missed. A smile broke out across her face and she stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway. She turned left and headed for his bedroom. Maybe she did need something after all.