Disclaimer – I own nothing. At all, please don't sue.

Author Note – Thank you all for your lovely messages for Temporary. Here's a brief follow up on how I think that could've led to Sam's line during the season nine episode, ExDuesMachina.

Clarification

Jack O'Neill pulls the car up to a stop sign, glancing up under the red light cast across his screen as he waits for the phone to connect. He can't help tapping the steering wheel in time with the rings. She's taking longer than he expects her to. Never far from her phone, she usually answers within the first few rings. Glancing at his watch, he winces at the time. Swearing under his breath he hoped Carter would be home by now -even though he knows she can get distracted at the best of times- and it was safe to call; no risk of her fielding uncomfortable questions because that's the last position he wants to put her in.

The green glow falls over the car and his foot releases the brake and presses the gas. The phone continues to ring loudly in his ears. He wants to hear her voice before he turns up on her doorstep. This had been an impulsive yet solid idea when he left the office a good few hours ago but the longer the call goes unanswered the doubt starts to encroach on his mind. He's not one for gestures and he hopes this doesn't come across as huge because she doesn't accept them easily. They fluster her.

Hell, Shanahan bought her a house and she turned around and came to his house, ready to admit to having second thoughts and other things which died on her tongue when Kerry stepped out of his back door. Jack sighs.

Not that either woman seemed to hold it against him. Shanahan might if he knew about the little incident. But that's minor details.

As soon as her voice mail kicks in, he disconnects and redials. There's the ball in the pit of his stomach which grows heavier with each shrill beep. He tries not to think of what could've happened. She's probably somewhere under the mountain, tinkering with something in her lab. He tries to ignore the niggling thought that Ba'al gave them the run around today and he's still in the wind. Jack hates to think how close she'd been to the Goa'uld, how easy it would've been for Ba'al to just…

No. He's not going there.

It would be just another way to torture Jack without being in the same room. The only downside for Ba'al was he wouldn't have been able to enjoy Jack's pain first hand. Unless he's waited until she's at home.

No. He's not going there.

He cuts the phone and tosses it onto the passenger seat while he eases down on the gas pedal.

They haven't spoken since she arrived back on base ten days ago. He'd driven her back to her hotel a few hours before the early morning transport. He wanted to take her to the airbase but that would've set the rumour mill off before she landed at Peterson. His car had been running idle on the street as they couldn't find the words to say goodbye properly. In the predawn darkness, he could barely breathe in the stifling car. The click of the door handle was way too loud as she went to get out. Then she stopped and turned to him. Quickly her body leant across the central divide into his space and her lips connected to his in a light grasp. A tender peck which was over too soon before their gaze connected and she looked as torn as he felt. Then she was gone.

In the days since, she's been off world and chased Ba'al around the country while he's monitored from the Pentagon. He also knows she made a quick trip to Nevada to break the news to Cassie and collect the personal items she had taken there. Cassie called him. She'd been there during a few of his visits and saw what they still denied, while she rolled her eyes when she thought no one noticed and sometimes when she knew they would. He barely managed to evade her gentle probing which reminded him so much of her mother and her indulgent yet realistic observations. He misses the doctor; she understood the regs, she heard their confessions and kept their secrets. He can see the wry smile she'd give him for the past summer. And the extra tests she'd add to his physical just for him if he screws this up.

Despite the time they've spent together since leaving the SGC, neither he or Sam has been brave enough to breach the growing silence since she returned. He doesn't know quite what to say. He can't help but feel like he's going to lose her. And this time it won't be to another guy. He thought their shared pain was difficult to deal with when they saw each other each day; he was wrong.

He hates it. Yet they have to keep their distance. Not just from prying eyes. They're distancing themselves from each other in preparation of the inevitable.

Samantha Carter is staying at the SGC.

He'd spent the better part of the hour staring at her signature on the reassignment papers, thinking about the tiniest hesitation mark on the 'S' compared to the neat flow of the other letters. Finally, he signed them himself. The ink was barely dry when he left his office moments later to stop himself from tearing them up.

It's done now.

She's staying.

The Ori are a credible threat who are managing to portray themselves as Gods in ways which put the Goa'uld to shame. Their ability to rally a growing following in such a short time frame is partly down to the void left by the domineering enemy they thwarted mere months ago. People need something to believe in and the Ori fit the bill.

If Sam hadn't put in for the transfer herself, the orders would come down the line sooner rather than later. As a unit, they were the first point of contact for many planets the Ori could potentially target. They forged alliances and trust. Their familiar faces and united front could sway any of the planets wavering in the face of any Prior preaching the ways of the Ori, duplicating the success they achieved against the Goa'uld.

Jack clears his throat in the quiet car. No pressure at all.

According to Landry, Mitchell is practically giddy. His dream mission of reuniting SG-1 has become a reality. Jack knows Sam isn't staying because of that despite the undisguised nudging from the younger, less experienced leader of SG-1. She wouldn't have held out this long if it was. Teal'c and Daniel are more than capable and have enough experience to guide Mitchell but she doesn't want to abandon them to this task alone when she can help. Teal'c and Daniel know what this is costing him and Sam. Hell, Jack thinks they knew about him and Sam before him and Sam. Though neither care for the regs, Teal'c and Daniel care that the regs matter to him and Sam.

He takes a right at the next junction and heads out toward the suburbs when his phone starts to ring on the seat beside him. Reaching over he presses the accept button and presses it to his ear. "O'Neill."

"Sir?" Sam questions with a guarded tone. "You called," she says in the next breath to explain.

"Just to check in," he replies casually while wincing. Two missed calls don't inspire casual especially since it's been ten days. And he knows she knows it. But she wouldn't ignore his call, he knows that too. He sighs. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, no, um…" Sam hesitates and he imagines she's biting her lip. "I was in the shower. Saw your number when I got out and…"

"Oh."

Oh. Shower.

Oh.

He shuts his mind down before it thinks about the implications of talking to Samantha Carter wrapped in a towel. He gulps.

"Sir?"

He really wishes she would drop the sir. Not that he's much better. Military protocols have been drilled into both of them. His use of her surname is just another way he's kept her at arm's length.

"I just wanted to…" Talk. He kicks himself. They don't talk. There's a pause on her end, waiting for him to finish his thought. "So, temporary, huh?" Jack asks and hopes it doesn't come off as an asshole remark.

"You have the transfer papers?"

"It's been approved, I signed them," Jack informs her stiffly as he navigates the dark, narrowing streets. "They need you," he adds heavily, including himself in the 'they'.

"Yeah," comes her torn answer. He hears the rustle of fabric followed by a soft thud. "This isn't fair."

"Nope," Jack agrees, popping the 'p', finding no comfort in the fact that she sounds as miserable as he feels. Their duty comes first. "I heard Ba'al gave you the run around today."

"Unfortunately, Ba'al is still in the wind," Sam answers him.

"Yes, well," Jack drawls into the phone. He's not happy about the snake escaping, he's just glad she lived to tell him. Hearing her say it, albeit darkly, makes him feel better than any report he could ever read. "Did everyone play nice during the joint op with the NID?"

"We were civil." He can practically hear the eye roll along with the sound of a drawer being opened and closed.

"Have I taught you nothing?" Jack admonishes sarcastically. She's much better at balancing the diplomatic interaction between the two agencies than he ever was. Completely justified, given the history with the NID. He's not going to dwell but he's never going to be their number one endorser either.

"Sorry, Sir," comes out suspiciously like she's hiding a giggle. There's another rustle of fabric and he tapers down on the straying thoughts of bare skin being covered. It's time to focus.

"So, apart from blowing up a building in space, anything else interesting happen today?"

"Well, Barrett asked if I was single."

That sneaky son of a…

Jack swerves slightly in the car and is suddenly grateful it's late meaning the roads are virtually empty and he's almost at his destination. Correcting the car, he continues smoothly along the road.

"What did you tell him?" Jack asks, trying to play it cool while thinking of all the ways he'd like to dispose of Agent Barrett. Aside from his questionable employers, the guy seems semi-decent. Closer to her age and gung-ho when it comes to his intentions about dating her. Unlike Jack, who is trying to figure out if he can give her up again if he has to.

Thinking of Barrett's employers, he suddenly wonders if they should be discussing this on the phone.

"Not exactly." She sounds nervous and he focuses on the wince in her voice.

"You didn't answer him?" Jack immediately regrets asking it. He isn't being deliberately obtuse; he's afraid the promise they made to each other in his bedroom is null and void. He wants to stake his claim and tell everyone else to back off. But that'd only get him one very pissed off Colonel.

"I told him 'not exactly'," Sam tells him hesitantly.

The dozen or so thoughts going through his head start to hurt his head so he just gives up. He can't figure out a way of asking what that means without overstepping the uncertain, undetermined, currently changing boundaries of the non-relationship they have. "What does 'not exactly' exactly mean?"

"I have no idea. I just, I…" Sam takes a steadying breath. "I couldn't tell him that I broke up with Pete because of my feelings for you or that we have spent the last few months trying to figure us out and still haven't. And that it's on hold now that I'm back in your chain of command."

He figures she's been sitting on this for at least a few hours, depending on when this little question and answer session took place and hasn't realised what she's said. She's never told him why she broke it off with Shanahan only that she had. He had hoped but is more than surprised she's confirmed it. It's not the affirming declaration he'd hoped for.

"Sir?" Sam asks a moment later. He knows what she's asking and he gives the only answer that matters.

"We'll figure this out," Jack promises though he has no idea how except that he's in love with her. He kills the engine and lets the car roll down the slight incline, controlling it with the brake pedal. Pulling to a stop at the edge of the driveway. "I'm tired of hiding the way I feel about you, from you."

They played by the rules and it still bit them on the ass. They waited, beyond patiently, and ran out of time. They've had a taste of what it could be like. DC and Nevada worked. They worked. After years of unspoken promises and pledges, they actually worked. And that last night before she returned to the mountain…

He's washed his sheets at least half a dozen times yet her can still smell her shampoo in his bed. How they resisted temptation, he'll never know. Remembers the way she'd looked up at him the next morning in the dark recess of his bedroom. In his defence, it hadn't been just his hands that had wandered.

His eyes blink open as he hears the garbage truck pull down the street. They can't escape the noise even this high up in his apartment building. Feeling the weight of her resting against him, he looks down to find her head pillowed on his chest. She's nestled into him, completely at ease with where she is. His heart squeezes for a second before resuming at a quicker pace. This moment won't last long if the change in her breathing is any indication. He holds his breath as she shifts slightly, one of her feet curls around his ankle and rubbing lightly. Her eyes remain closed as she rolls her neck and tries to burrow deeper into his embrace.

She lets out a sleepy exhale coming out as a moan of protest as she slowly comes around. He chuckles softly as her nose wrinkles and she stubbornly keeps her eyes shut.

"Morning," Jack's voice is rough with sleep.

"Morning," Sam returns with a hum, her clear blues opening slowly and finding his in the dark. "What time is it?"

Jack checks the clock on the bedside table and settles back down with her. "We've got a few minutes till we have to check in with reality."

"I could get used to this," she whispers.

Her head tilts so her chin rests on his chest. Her bright blues shine up at him with the same look she aimed at him right before she pulled him in for their first kiss hours before. He lets his eyes wander from her hair over her face, down her tank top to where the comforter is lying over their torso. He refuses to let think about how her bare legs feel lying next to his or how her foot keeps flexing lightly against his in featherlight touches. The hand in the centre of his chest starts to lift, her fingers tracing an imaginary path over his skin. His arm ghosts along her arm when he can't stand it any longer.

If he thought letting her go last night was tough, this morning was going to be near on impossible. He manages a ten count before he gives up. "Aw, hell."

She rises up over him to meet his mouth. It's a soft grasp at first but their mouths soon remember each other. They begin to lose themselves quickly and within moments she's moving the foot between them so she can lift her leg over his to straddle him. His hands drift lower to steady her waist as her chest aligns with his and she continues to kiss him.

"Jack," she breathes out as their lips lose contact briefly, her hands brace lightly on his chest before moving to either side of his head on the pillow as she gets a better angle to deepen the kiss.

His responding growl is a strange amalgamation of aroused and strained. Jack wants to give in to her plea; he really does. Once isn't going to be enough. "We don't have time," he says. He can be late, she can't.

Still, he doesn't break contact and pushes off the mattress. Her body moves in tandem, her fingers thread through his hair as he sits up and wraps his arms around her back. She rises up just a fraction to get closer and any chance he has at a coherent thought is beyond him. His lips start to trail down her jaw, her neck till his mouth finds her collarbone. She tilts back to give him better access but he braces her and smoothly flips them so she's under him.

To hell with it.

He plans to have her right back here as soon as she can be. He ignores that niggling voice in his head, the rational part, which knows this will be more than one mission with the SGC.

"We do," Sam insists just as his alarm clock proves her wrong.

With a tortured moan, Jack pulls away from her, and the responding stream of expletives -from both of them, he notes- compete with the offending noise. His hand comes down on it solidly, stopping the noise with a loud slap. He flops down back on the bed, landing heavily beside her and stares at the ceiling. His hand finds hers between them and lifts hers to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it.

"Not enough. We've got years to make up for," Jack tells her breathlessly as his senses come back to him.

He's a freakin' saint and doesn't dare look at anything but the ceiling. Because, really, they're going to need at least a day, maybe two. No alarms, no phones, no one else in the near vicinity.

He chances a glance at her.

Eyes fixed on him, welcoming and knowing. His smile on her lips. She got to know what that does to him.

Make it a week in seclusion.

Even then he doesn't think they'll ever be a time when he'll get enough of her to quench what's going through his mind.

"Just so you know, when it happens, I'll be setting up perimeter sensors in the yard and put a tracker on Daniel set for a hundred meters outside of that perimeter." He pauses thoughtfully before adding, "I might just put a bell on him to be on the safe side."

Still panting lightly, her melodic giggle fills the room. "You've put a lot of thought into it."

"I've been thinking about it for a looong time."

"You're not the only one," Sam promises with a squeeze of his hand as his lips press against her hair.

"I'd rather hide from the world than each other," Sam tells him honestly. She sounds as resolute as he is. "You said 'always' a few months ago," she reminds him.

His stomach does somersaults. Jack thinks back a few months, sitting with her while her father lay dying in the room where they first admitted they had feelings for one another. His arm had been around her shoulders and his hand was clasped in hers, her head resting on top. She had looked over her at him with a loaded look and he had hoped she understood what everything he was trying to tell her without misreading him. Apparently, she hadn't.

"I did," he agrees. "I still mean it."

"I do too," Sam comes back strongly. "And if we have to wait again, I want you to know I want 'always' too."

"You're happy to wait?" He asked her before and hopes her answer doesn't mean he'll be driving all the way back to DC tonight.

"I didn't say that," she breathes out after a beat. "I think this has gone on too long to wait any longer Jack."

His name slips from her lips so surely, he aches. Running around in secret doesn't give them a fighting shot. He won't treat her like a dirty little secret because she's anything but. Before he can stop himself, he releases the car door and exits quickly. His knees protest after being stuck in the car for so long but he ignores them as he crosses the short distance to the porch, clicking the lock button on the keys as he does.

"And I don't want to drag anyone else into the middle of it," Sam continues as he climbs the shallow steps.

He agrees whole heartedly except…

"I'm not going to feel sorry for Barrett. He brought this on himself," Jack all but growls. It's not entirely the agent's fault; most people fall in love with her within minutes of meeting her. Though he didn't acknowledge their feelings for a long time, Jack pretty much knows she had a part of him when she challenged him to an arm wrestle. He lifts his hand to knock.

"Can I call you back? There's someone at the door," Sam tells him over the line.

"This time of night?" He's got to play along.

"Yeah."

Then the connection is lost and he waits for a long agonising minute before he hears the muffled "coming" from the other side of the door and down her hall. He senses her on the other side of the door and from the shadows he knows she's looking through the peephole. Another long second passes and he starts to doubt the wisdom of turning up. This was a good idea when he left the office earlier. Now, he's not so sure.

The door clicks and she stands on the other side. Slightly mussed, drying hair, her dark grey US Air Force shirt clings to her damp skin; fresh from a shower. Sam looks up at him, the initial shock slowly replaced by a slow smile. Yeah, this was a good idea. She pulls the door wider in silent invitation.

He's crossing the threshold as he asks, "Is this what 'not exactly' means?"