Hey there! I hope everyone is all right.

Enjoy.

M.

Chapter 12- I'm talking to myself now

Sam stirs, a lazy smile on her face that turns into a surprised 'oh' as she feels his lips caressing her back. Wet kisses and the slow, tentative tastes of her skin, bringing out pleasure goosebumps on all her body. There's a low, sultry, manly chuckle followed by a growl after she pants.

She feels the too-thin mattress all too well when she plasters herself almost painfully against it, as she moves to give him more access. He reaches for her neck, and she feels the heat burning up again, faster than anything she had experienced before. His hand finds a way under her. She rocks her hips as he reaches the place where she wants him the most.

Fingers find their way inside her, moving devilishly slow. His hand is pressed between her and the mattress. It allows her to take some control of the situation she is enjoying. He, along with her own sweet movements, take her there faster than she thinks should be possible.

"Carter," he drawls against her ears, and she stirs softly. There's not enough energy left in her body to do anything, but being a boneless lump on the mattress.

Sam wriggles in place then, but the mattress is hard and uber comfortable. She sniffles, smelling the same perfume she uses on her things. She blinks several times, noticing the weight of her clothes that had never left her body, or so it seems.

Utterly confused at first, by the hand that keeps her trapped. She turns around slightly to notice an also fully clothed Jack O'Neill. Warm breath coming out of him and looking more relaxed than she's never seen him before. He's profoundly asleep and wholly dressed. She frowns in confusion. 'That's one helluva vivid dream,' she thinks as she slides from under his arm, trying not to wake him up.

Sam notices she's barefoot and smiles. She reckons she fell asleep on him. As she pads to the bathroom, she remembers being awake enough to ask him to join her on her bed. She thinks it's endearing, all that he has done for her on that night. Blushing slightly, she considers this one could have been a lovely first date. She shakes her head, closing the bathroom door before she turns on the light.

"Was it a date?" she asks to her reflection. She chuckles, "I'm talking to myself now."

Sam checks the watch. He hasn't taken off her and sighs when it tells her it's 3 am. A flash of the dream she had, crosses her mind again. She splashes some water on her face, which now has a disgusted expression.

This dream of hers. It is part of the dream she's been having for weeks now. She had read somewhere that pregnancy could make you horny. Though she had found nowhere that this horniness they spoke of could be dream related.

She closes her eyes. It's almost like she can feel the dream. The thought of those ghost-like kisses on her back, send shivers down her spine.

"Come on, Carter. You have to get some sleep!" She tells herself, ignoring how crazy it is. That's not the first time she's spoken to herself in less than ten minutes without a doohickey involved.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to remember where she has left her sleeping attire and grimaces. She remembers then that she's been postponing laundry. Her past two days sleeping attire are a huge t-shirt. One that Jack had loaned her in one of their many missions, and she had failed to return.

Sam's options are that shirt or the blouse she's using, which is a tad too short to cover her ass. Jeans are nice and all, but she can't wait to get out of them. So, she walks inside her room. Finding her way around in the dark, she gets to the hanger where she left the shirt.

She throws a glance over her shoulders to check if Jack was awake. But Jack doesn't seem to have moved from where she last left him. Shrugging, she turns around towards the door, gets rid of her blouse, and puts the t-shirt on before her bra comes off. Her pants follow once the shirt is covering her ass.

Sam considers for a second searching for pants, but Jack looks inviting with his arm still stretched where she was supposed to be sleeping. With a smile, she slides back in place; but when she grabs his hand to slide under his arm, he stirs a little.

"Everything okay?" he asks sleepily.

"Yup, bathroom call," Sam uses as her excuse.

"Hmm, okay. Missed you," he says, and she holds her breath wondering if he is so asleep that it fell out of his mouth without thinking.

Unaware of the turmoil that his words created in her. Jack snuggles closely to her, breathing her in. Sam bites her lip to avoid the gasp that wants to leave her. The unexpected kiss on her neck that follows, brings back all those goosebumps and memories of the dream. But, soon enough, his heartbeat and soft breathing cocoon her in safety, and without even noticing it, she sleeps.

The next time she stirs, there's no arm weighing her down. There's no warm body tightly snuggled next to her. The bed is cold. She sighs, wondering if she imagined things. If this pregnancy is also making her experience dreams so vivid that she could have sworn they were real.

She stands up, and when she opens the door, she hears pans and pots clashing around. Curiously, she pads towards the sound. Sam finds Jack opening and closing cabinets of her kitchen, searching for some mysterious ingredient for whatever he is trying to make.

Curiosity sated, she rushes back to her room to shower and brush her teeth! When she's out again, she feels rested, comfortably dressed in her last clean jogging pants, and a t-shirt of her own. There aren't loud noises anymore, but the smell of what she hopes is pancakes make her stomach growl.

"God, please tell me it's pancakes."

"Not, God. Just Jack," he grins. "Yup, I hoped they wouldn't bother you. It scared me when I heard you rush back to your room."

"Not rushed, just took my chance at getting a shower. Will it take long?"

"Another five? Why?"

"Ugh, I need to start some laundry, or I'll be screwed up if I need to shower later on." She huffs.

She has no idea what her comment does to him. Jack stops moving for a couple of seconds, trying to regain control over his mind. Screwed up and shower in the same sentence was not something; he was expecting coming from her. Not when he'd had that dream he seemed prone to have whenever he was holding her at night.

'Whenever?' he thought, 'You slept with her twice, Jack. You didn't do all those things you've dreamt of, wants, and needs of doing them notwithstanding.'

The smell of burning pancakes brings him out of his mind chat. He grimaces when he notices he burned them beyond repair and hopes it still is enough without those two. He throws them to the bin before he pours more batter into the pan.

"Everything all right?" Sam asks. He turns around with a confused frown. "It's just that I went to put the first load to the wash, and you don't seem to have noticed it."

"Sorry, I guess I zoned out."

"You can do that?" She chuckles.

"Joke about it, Carter, and I'll cut you out of the pancakes," he says in a fake menace tone. "Let's eat."

Jack had searched all around to find the things they need. So when he brings the pancakes to the table, it's all set. Sam's eyes tear up a bit, it's been ages since she has properly sat in her dining room to have breakfast.

"We can eat, and then you can show me how your drier works. So, I can put your clothes into it if you are too out of it."

"Out of it?"

"You know… that thing you need to drink?"

"Are you staying with me through this?"

"Yep."

"We should get you some clothes before I do this, Jack. I mean, I hope the effects don't last long. But if they do… I'm sure you will be better out of your jeans." He stops his fork midway to his mouth.

"Gee, we haven't even gotten to date two, and you want me out of my jeans already?" He jokes, but the gaze he gives her is smoldering. She can't help but feel sexy and wanted.

"Oh, I wanted out of your jeans around mission three, sir," she says with such confidence that leaves him struggling to answer. She laughs then, a rich, sultry laugh that he knows will be the death of him.

"You told me you wanted me here, Sam. I'm here for you." He says. Jack can't avoid the husky tone of his voice, mostly because he is still affected by her comment and laugh. "I left my overnight bag in your spare room. Or I should say, my weekend-ready bag."

Sam can't help the blush on her face. If Jack's inner boy-scout had made him leave his stuff in the spare room, he had to be just checking on her when she asked him to stay for the night. Only to cuddle up to him and have that weird little erotic dream of hers.

"What?" Jack asks, watching expressions flick on her face faster than he can read them. She shakes her head.

"Nothing, just thinking!" She smiles dismissively.

"You? Thinking? What a surprise!" He deadpans. They eat in silence for a while, and Jack's happy to see she had devoured four pancakes without a grimace. "Ready to show me how your washer and drier works?" Jack asks as she pushes her plate away from her.

"I will show you, but only if you need to use them," she says as they walk away. "I won't let you do my laundry."

"We'll see," he chuckles.

Sam stops dead in her tracks, making him almost crash against her. She's narrowing her eyes at him, her arms embracing her middle as she dresses him down with her glare. He thinks that's the most endearing image of Samantha Carter because she seems angry. She is mostly just annoyed that there's a chance he might need to do stuff for her, that she usually could do herself.

"I mean it, Jack," she whines. He can't help it, he laughs.

"Carter," he says, trying to contain the emotions he can't name. His hand finds her cheek, caresses it, before he places a kiss on the corner of her lips. "I promise I won't try to do your laundry if you can do it yourself. But I'm not leaving your clothes laying in there for hours just because you can't move them to the drier yourself."

Sam assesses him for a while. She knows he is telling the truth, but there's also something in his eyes that makes her feel all fluffy on the inside. Surprisingly, she isn't crying! Yet, lust rears its heads from somewhere she didn't know it was hiding. Without thinking much, she has him against the wall. She kisses him fervently, devouring his mouth, touching him in desperate need.

Jack's surprised by her actions, but he also has experienced the joys of pregnancy lust before. He is sure that Sam, passion aside, doesn't want to remember their first time as a quick romp against a wall. So, against his desires, he pushes her slightly away from him.

"Sam," he pants. Her baby blues are almost black with desire, her lips swollen, and Jack feels pride at being responsible for making her look like this. "I want to do this as much as you do. But I'm sure we don't want to do it like this." She blushes and hides her face from him. He raises her head so he can see her eyes before he adds, "not for the first time at least." She beams at him, and he pecks her lips, then she entangles their hands and shows him what he wanted.

Not much later, they are both sitting in her living room. Sam's curled up, clutching a pillow as if it was a shield against whatever fears are going through her head. Jack knows all the anxiety she's showcasing is related to the vial with the yellow liquid that sits on the coffee table.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks. Sam can read the concern in his eyes, even if he tries to appear he isn't worried.

"No. But, if I don't, what are the chances of ever finding out what the hell happened?"

"There's that," he shrugs. Taking a deep breath, Jack moves forward and grabs the vial. He uncaps it, takes a whiff and grins. "Well, it smells like coconut."

Jack offers the small bottle to her, and Sam takes it. A grimace takes over her face, "I just hope it doesn't taste like the last yellowy thing Thor gave me." Then she takes a sip.

Nothing happens.

Sam can't feel any difference. She doesn't have the headache she assumed would come from tinkering with her neurons. She doesn't feel dizzy or bad.

"So?" Jack asks, flinching for the possible pain she must be feeling.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nope, not a thing. Maybe I need to take more," she ponders. But his hand stops her.

"Let's give it an hour?"

"Okay."