A/N: I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the lack
of
updates? It ended up being a little
over twenty pages... Anyway, I also wanted to say thanks for reviewing,
it's very much appreciated!
Content Warning: Fluff alert, eventually.
Chapter 9
"Sex"
Janet Fraiser raised a cautious eyebrow, "Excuse me?"
"You asked me what my plans were for tonight. That's my answer."
Sam slid off the infirmary bed, stifling a groan as her feet hit the cold floors. All she wanted was to relax, maybe do something spontaneous, and just feel normal again. She hadn't had that in a long time. Considering the mission Jolinar had left her, chances were that she wouldn't.
"As your doctor I don't recommend it. As your friend, I'm telling you to have fun, but warn your partner that you're still a little tender," the doctor replied with a small smile, signing off on a few details before handing Sam's medical file to a passing nurse, "So may I ask who the lucky guy is?"
"Don't know yet, but I hope he's cute. Actually, no, I don't really care what he looks like. With the week I've had, I'm not going to be picky," Sam grunted moodily, feeling a dull ache in her muscles as she stretched them. It was painfully clear that her body still wasn't functioning at a hundred-percent capacity, but at least the effect was temporary. Six days laying around in bed while they'd flushed her system of drugs and toxins had done her in. All that was left of Jolinar was a protein marker that, with any luck, would disintegrate over time.
"Well, if you're not being picky, then at least be cautious. I don't want you drinking for at least the next forty-eight hours," Janet warned her, "In fact, I wish you'd consider remaining for observa— "
"Ah! No. I think I've experienced all the observation I can handle with the NID's medics," she replied derisively, not noticing the perturbed look in the other woman's eyes.
Sam was simply too tired to notice anything. All she really wanted to get off base without any dramatics— she'd had enough of that lately, with everyone tripping over themselves to check in on her. Naturally, her mind screamed in question, wondering where all the concern had been when she'd actually needed it... but she'd forced her bitterness aside. She had to, especially when everyone was trying so hard.
Daniel was still on the Tok'ra home world, but he'd sent her an adorable little video feed saying how terrible he felt about the whole 'incident'... naturally, she's sent a reply telling him to focus on his mission, and not to worry about her. The NID had issued an informal apology; she was debating whether or not to have it framed and mounted in her office. Hammond had expressed himself sincerely, then had regretfully informed her that she'd been relieved of her command of SG1 until further notice. She'd known it would happen, but was comforted by his tone, realizing that the decision hadn't come directly from him. A few days later, Kawalsky had popped in with a bunch of painfully bright yellow carnations. Even Teal'c had showed up in the infirmary with armfuls of jello— apparently some idiot had told him it was a customary Earth ritual in order to cheer the sickly. She'd been forced to eat every bite so as not to offend him.
There was just one last visitor who hadn't bothered to show up, but she knew better than to ask for him. It was getting to be a habit, having Jack O'Neill with her one moment, then gone the next. Her mind had blocked out most of the tormenting details of Jolinar's death, but one thing she was certain of was that he'd stayed with her the entire time. The thought simultaneously disturbed and ashamed her. She hadn't wanted anyone with her, seeing her in a complete and utter mess, but she hadn't had the will to fight him off. Turns out she needed him. She'd needed his heat and his strength, and he'd offered it to so earnestly. Sam absently ran her hands over her shoulders, merely an echo of how she'd felt when he'd held onto her that day, as if both their lives depended on it. It was like he'd felt her anguish right alongside her, and it wasn't something she'd ever experienced before. Nothing she wanted to experience ever again, considering how vulnerable it had left her.
Then he'd disappeared. No dropping in to say hello, or to offer stupid jokes of encouragement. Oh, he was certainly on base, that much was obvious, but he was avoiding her. She knew better than to allow her convoluted emotions to cause her any more pain, but she'd be lying if she said his absence hadn't hurt. They'd shared something that day, she knew it wasn't all in her head. Not that she'd actually venture too deeply into it, given that her career was... well... where did her career stand now? It was a mess. Nobody knew what to do with her, and she didn't know herself.
"Can I ask you something personal?" Janet's voice stirred her from her thoughts.
"Of course, what is it?"
"Are you really planning on leaving the SGC? I don't mean to pry Sam, but I've heard all these rumors... and I guess I wouldn't blame you under the circumstances, but I really wish you wouldn't. I'm so sorry for what happened to you, maybe we'd done more to monitor what the NID were doing—"
"Ah! Janet, don't be ridiculous. This isn't anyone's fault, just a lousy circumstance, mostly... and I'm not going anywhere. I spent two goddamn years in Washington trying to get the Stargate program on its feet. No matter how much I entertain the idea of leaving, I could never go through with it."
The doctor breathed a sigh of relief, surprising Sam.
"You were worried about me leaving?"
"Of course, Sam. Everyone's been concerned for so many reasons... I have it on good authority that Colonel O'Neill is a wreck, and the General got an earful from the joint chiefs for what happened to you."
"You mean what happened to Jolinar. They're terrified that what the NID did will hurt future relations with the first alien race we've met that's both friendly and technologically advanced. Hammond knows I'm not going anywhere... but he'll probably send an airman to reign me in tomorrow morning anyway. They always find it more effective to show up at your doorstep," Sam explained, purposely disregarding the line about O'Neill.
Janet nodded thoughtfully, then hesitated slightly before asking, "Do you remember much? Of the Tok'ra's life, I mean?"
"Nothing more than a few images. Faces mostly," Sam admitted, " I'll be joining one of the SG teams to represent Earth in the delegation with the Tok'ra High Council. We'll know more after we speak to them."
"Why wouldn't you be leading your own team?"
"I won't be leading any team until they're certain there's no residual consequences from being taken as a host," Sam explained, the strain clear in her voice.
"But SG1 will need a team leader, won't they?"
"I'm guessing they have a replacement lined up already Janet, but there's still a lot that needs to be figured out. I hope you don't mind if we don't get into that right now?" Sam asked with a wry smile.
In truth, there was really no guessing required, since it was painfully clear who her replacement would be: Jack O'Neill. There's nobody else the boys on top would have trusted with their flagship team. Her assumption had been confirmed yesterday when she overheard Siler mention it to one of the techs. Obviously it wasn't official yet, or else Hammond would have informed her personally. O'Neill's position would initially be considered 'temporary', but she realized there was an excellent chance she'd never lead SG1 again.
"I've got to get going... I'll see you tomorrow," Sam said in parting before leaving the infirmary. Her eyes betrayed none of her dispassioned emotion.
"She left? How long ago! Who took her home?" Jack yelled loudly, the tip of his pen digging a deep gash into the new mahogany desk, "Two hours! By herself?"
He resisted the urge the throw the phone against the wall, and settled for slamming it back into the cradle. He had nobody to blame but himself. He'd waited too long, so preoccupied with his own emotions that he hadn't worked up the courage to see her. Now she was gone.
A groan broke out from the back of his throat. He couldn't bring himself to talk to her. He couldn't get her out of his head long enough to try. All he saw when he closed his eyes was the sight of her hurting; all he knew was that he'd been the cause. It was enough to make him sick... hell, it had made him sick that first night they'd brought her back to the SGC. He'd seen the toxicology reports the next day. Hadn't understood a damn thing, but he'd recognized some of the chemicals. The NID had obviously known what they were doing, and he'd literally been the one to hand her over to them. Scratch that, he'd hit her, then he'd handed her to them.
"I'm going to hell for this, aren't I?" He asked to nobody in particular, barely noticing the Jaffa that had just entered his office.
"O'Neill. Are you unwell?"
"Hey T," Jack greeted his friend with little enthusiasm, "I'm fine, really. Can't a man throw a little tantrum without there being something wrong?" He continued dejectedly, "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to brood in peace."
"You feel guilt for what happened to Colonel Carter."
"Guilt? No."
The Jaffa remained silent until Jack couldn't take it any more.
"Fine... You want to discuss my feelings? Well Teal'c, it's more than guilt. I've dealt with guilt in the past, and this seems much worse. I have this weird ache in my gut. The kind that keeps a guy awake at night. Gives him this overwhelming desire to throw himself off a bridge just to get it to stop. I hear San Fransisco is lovely this time of year."
"Did you not visit Colonel Carter in the infirmary over the last few days?"
"Not into small talk, huh?"
The Jaffa remained remained quite impassive.
"Okay, no need to get all pushy! I tried to see her Teal'c... I mean I went to her, but only when I knew she'd be sleeping, or partially unconscious... I guess I've got to much to say, and no guts to say it with. Send me on a suicide mission any day, just don't ask me to talk to her, because I'll end up hurting her more than I already have."
"Colonel Carter is a strong warrior, she will recover from her ordeal in time, and will not blame you O'Neill."
"Why wouldn't she blame me? She risked her life to save my ass back on Chulak, and this was how I repaid her? Left her in the hands of the NID when I should have been watching her back. Accused her of hurting my son when I should have thanked her for saving his life. Interrogated and humiliated her when I should have been her friend and trusted her."
He felt a little sick at his own words, hearing it out loud.
"You were unaware of the true situation. I too share the responsibility for what occurred by but she does not resent me for my part in assuming that it was a Goa'uld that had taken her as host. She seemed pleased that I had visited."
"Told you the jello would work. What kind did you get anyway? Because the infirmary has that awful fruity stuff that tastes like it came off someone shoe. Now if you want the really good stuff, you should get Daniel to flash his baby blues a the ladies in the commissary, they totally— "
"O'Neill, do not deflect from the topic at hand," Teal'c said disapprovingly, "Colonel Carter is wise, she will understand if you explain your actions."
"Are you kidding? I don't think 'I'm sorry' would cover this one. I don't even know if she wants to see me, and it's driving me insane! I just wish there was a way to fix this without actually speaking to her."
"It is customary on Chulak, when a man wishes to resolve a dispute with his wife, to presents her a with gift of appreciation."
"She's not my wife."
"No, but she is a woman."
"Right, I noticed," he replied sarcastically, burying his face in his hands.
"Teal'c, can I tell you something?" He said, voice muffled through his long fingers.
"I believe it is a free society, O'Neill."
"No, I mean, I need to talk about something important, and I need a confidant."
"Are you not confident in what you are saying now?"
"I'm talking about the process of confiding in someone, Teal'c. I tell you something, and you agree to keep the conversation between the two of us."
The Jaffa inclined his head in a gesture Jack took to be agreement. The Colonel cleared his throat, and suddenly wondered whether it was a good idea to actually say anything about this. If it was all up in his head, then that's where it would stay, but to actually tell someone else might make it tangible. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that... or for the inevitable court martial he'd be slapped with if anyone found out.
"Hey guys, what's up?" Kawalsky grinned, rapping on the open door before walking into the office.
"O'Neill was about to reveal his confident feelings for Colonel Carter," Teal'c said simply.
Jack stared at the Jaffa slack-jawed, while Kawalsky grinned widely, "Why... Jack you bastard, didn't think you had it in you."
"What part of 'let's keep this between the two of us' did you not understand, Teal'c!" Jack yelled, throwing a scrunched up ball of paper at his friend, only to have it bounce off his broad chest harmlessly.
"Are the two of us not currently present, O'Neill?" The Jaffa asked simply, tilting his head.
"No need to get all embarrassed Jack. I'm not telling a soul," Kawalsky whispered conspiratorially, "Besides, it's not like you're the only one."
"I'm sure you both find this amusing, but let's get one thing straight here, I do not have feelings for... wait, what do you mean I'm not the only one?"
"Well, there's the geeks on level twenty-three are in love with her, the Captain on SG5 has a picture of her stuck up in his locker, the creepy guy from NORAD stalks her sometimes, then there's Airman Fischer, Seargent O'Donnel, Mike from printing, Siler, Major— "
"Wait— Siler? I'll kill him!"
"O'Neill, I believe Major Kawalsky's statement was in jest," the Jaffa wisely intervened.
Jack was about to say something, then reconsidered, dropping his head onto the desk with a loud thud.
"I have to see her," his voice was muffled by a disheartening tone, "If she throws me out on my ass, then so be it, but if I don't try then I'll feel like an idiot. I'll beg if that's what she wants."
"Okay, who are you, and what have you done with the real Jack O'Neill?" Kawalsky asked candidly.
"It's all Carter's damn fault. I don't sulk this way, ever, but... she... does something to me."
"Oh, I believe she does it to every male who lays eyes on her," Kawalsky snorted.
"Hey, it's not like that!"
"Sure it isn't Jack... but hey, as long as you're trying to make peace with her, I suggest flowers. Worked like a charm for me."
"What! You gave her flowers? You gave a superior officer flowers?"
"No need to be jealous, Colonel. I'll get you some next time," Kawalsky comforted, "Now as much as I'm enjoying this conversation, I didn't just stop by to chat. Hammond wants you in his office before you head home. It sounded pretty important."
"Great..." Jack groaned, considering the possibility of disregarding that order.
"You want me to make up an excuse for you?" Kawalsky offered, "I think the boys used liver infection last week, but diarrhea and erectile dysfunction are still available...?"
"No... I gotta go. I doubt it'll take too long. Whether she wants me there or not, I'm going to be outside Carter's apartment tonight."
"Then see to it that you are, O'Neill," Teal'c said, a small smile on his face.
Turns out Sam Carter didn't live in an apartment. She lived in a picturesque little house, with a quaint little garden and neighbors who walked their dogs at night. Jack hadn't actually thought of her as the type to settle in a place so homely, but he hadn't really gotten to know the woman under the BDUs. He had no idea what she wanted in life, what her personal goals were, what made her get up in the morning. He decided that it was about time to rectify the situation, assuming she'd speak to him. If she didn't, he could always pull the 'official military business' card. His meeting with Hammond had been brief yet final. Starting from tomorrow, Jack was acting leader of SG1, and would be assuming all of Carter's command duties until she was cleared to return. He figured she may be a little annoyed with him, but as long as she found out the right way, and he made it clear that this was just temporary, he stood a good chance of walking out of the conversation with his limbs still intact.
Ambling up the few stairs to her door, he cleared his mind, rolling his shoulders back in an attempt to relax. Holding the small brown package he carried close to his body, he knocked purposefully on the door.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still no answer.
"Ah, doorbell," he berated himself, pumping the round white button several times.
A few moments later, the door flung open.
"Yeah, what?" The young man asked, flushed and impatient.
Jack sized him up in a moment. He was probably in his late twenties, blond. Very blond. And shirtless. Very, very shirtless. His features came complete with a straight nose, high cheekbones, and eyelashes that were obscenely long for a guy.
"Sorry. Wrong number," Jack explained, glancing down at the address scrawled on the palm of his hand, "Does Sam Carter live on this street?"
"Samantha? You got the right place, but she's um... unavailable," naked-chest-man said carefully.
Jack's eyes widened, "And who the hell are you?"
"Daryl."
"Daryl... who?"
"Uh, look man, Sam and I like just ran into each other at a bar. She didn't tell me she was involved with anyone else, so if I'm like in the middle of something here then..."
"No, no!" Jack said, kicking himself inwardly and plastering a smile on his face. "Of course not. I apologize for interrupting."
"Sure thing, man. I'll like tell her you stopped by."
"That would be great, thank you. The name's Jack O'Neill," he explained, then on impulse stretched out a hand to stop the closing door, "You know, before I leave I just have to say that I'm so glad Sam's getting out and having fun again... after everything that's happened, it's good to see. Well...hope you kids have fun!"
Jack turned to leave, then smiled when the other man predictably called out to him, "Hey wait! What do you mean? What happened to her?"
"Oh, you know, just about what Samuel... I mean, Samantha, went through." Jack's voice lowered to a hushed tone, causing Daryl to lean in curiously, "I'm telling ya, after the breast implants it took him a while to get the hang of bras...but don't worry, everything is in working order now, except for that little... oh, you're better off not knowing,"
The big dull eyes widened tremendously at him. Jack really couldn't judge what color they were... somewhere between hazel and cow dung.
"Huh... she... b-breasts...?" Daryl stammered.
"Yeah. About a year ago, that's when he started the whole sex change thing. I honestly thought it was a phase, but it's good to see him sticking with something. Sam can be so fickle," Jack sighed, shaking his head absently.
"You're telling me she's... he's... Sam's like a... a... dude?" Daryl whispered alarmed. He glanced back into the house, his golden locks flailing about as if they were just as distressed as he was.
"Oh..." Jack feigned surprise, "You never got down to..."
"No, man, we were just fooling around in bed... shit, are you sure? She's like so gorgeous..."
"A little too gorgeous wouldn't you say? It's amazing what plastic can do these days. Y'know, I told her not to go for the pouty lips, but Sam's always been the perfectionist."
"I-I have to ... Tell her... him... sorry, I h-have to leave!"
Jack smiled serenely as the half naked blond man frantically snatched his shirt off the back of the couch and dove for the exit, before turning around abruptly at the doorway. Their positions reversed from their initial meeting.
"Look..." he began uncertainly, "I feel like scum for just ditching Sam like this... but I mean really, you're supposed to TELL someone these things before you take 'em home with you, you know? It's not that I have anything against... it's just that I'm not like..."
"I'll let Sam know," Jack interjected, certain the young man's head was going to explode with all this information. He didn't want Sam having to scrub brain out of her carpet for the next three weeks.
"Are you sure? I'd really appreciate it if you'd explain—"
"Think nothing of it! I mean it, kid. Don't think of Sam again, or call to apologize, or even drive by this house on a whim, because that'll just upset everyone. Anyway, nice meeting you, Dick."
"It's Daryl."
"Right."
Slamming the door shut in the surprised face gave him a grim satisfaction. Jack's jaw was clenched so hard he swore he would crack his teeth, but he didn't move. He couldn't move. Somehow he knew if he did, he'd end up outside, ramming that idiot's head a wall. Repeatedly. Then what would Carter say?
"Shit. She's going to be thrilled with you now, O'Neill," he muttered to himself. He realized he had no claim on her, and therefore, no right to feel this kind of anger at the thought of her being with another man. Jack scoffed. The boy he'd tossed out the door was hardly what he'd call a man... but then, maybe Carter liked 'em young and impressionable with a body that had been produced in a gym, not in combat. The thought was giving him a headache. He knew he was taking this all too personally, but he didn't seem able to stop.
"CARTER!" He all but roared for her, a bitter edge of longing in his voice. He received no answer.
Flinging the small package he'd been carrying onto the couch, he wandered further into the house, finding the door to the first room slightly ajar. He wanted so desperately to see her that he didn't think twice about easing it open and peering inside.
"Carter... you in here?" He whispered into the darkness.
The gentle sounds of breathing filtered through the air, and he allowed his eyes a moment to adjust to the lack of light before slipping into the room. What he saw was enough to sear the anger from his body, and knock the breath out of his lungs... had he the mental presence to inhale in the first place.
She lay stretched out languidly on the bed, soft sheets wrapped themselves carelessly around her body as if trying to hold onto her. Jack caught brief glimpse of pale gold skin as his eyes drifted involuntarily over the curve of her back. Her arm tucked snugly under her head, her short strands of hair falling softly across her face. Jack had never been the kind of guy to envision a term like angelic, so the fact that he was even considering using the word was a sign that he was in a shitload of trouble.
Belatedly, he realized he shouldn't have just walked into her home, especially when he knew who her company had been... but in his single-minded purpose to find her, he hadn't even contemplated what state he'd find her in. Well no, actually he'd planned it all out thoroughly in his head on the drive over here. She was supposed to be in a sweat shirt and jeans, maybe sitting at a computer, or catching up on all that reading that smart people like her did. Then he'd knock on her door, she'd ask him what he wanted, they'd yell, throw things, then she'd forgive him, and if he was lucky, they'd have some really incredible, guilt-ridden sex.
Well, who was he kidding? In the entire time he'd known her, when had things ever go according to plan? Finding himself even more frustrated at the stupidity of the situation he was in, Jack wrenched himself away, turning face-first into the door that had closed behind him. Stumbling back with a suppressed yelp, he ended up jarring his elbow into a piece of furniture, making an obscene amount of noise.
Jack swore under his breath. He was pretty sure walking into things in the dark was something they suggested not doing in Stealth 101. He'd navigated his way out of aggressive terrain countless times, but he couldn't get out of a bedroom without making enough racket to wake the dead?
Jack made another attempt to leave, but a soft moan from behind suddenly froze him in his tracks. The sound was soon accompanied by a rustle of sheets which instantly sent him into sheer blind panic, another thing they told you not to do in Stealth 101. He groped wildly in the darkness for the door handle, pulling against it frantically. It was locked. The short and desperate breaths of his lungs were matched only by the erratic pounding of his heart, telling him to get the hell out of there before—
"Going somewhere...?"
Jack nearly jumped out of his skin as two small hands reached around his waist. He'd forgotten that Carter also had stealth training, and with her light frame and quick movements, she would always have the supreme advantage in a target ambush.
''I must have dozed off, I'm sorry... I'll make it up to you..." she said, nimble fingers undoing his front buttons in a matter of seconds, dragging the shirt down and away. Jack gasped as his bare skin was exposed to the cool air. It lasted only moment before warmth and silk spilled over his back, and a lithe body pressed against his. At this point, his brain was screaming at his feet to move, but the message just wasn't getting through. He felt himself respond almost immediately to her when she breathed in his scent, and sighed audibly against his skin.
Jack was about to stop her. Really, he was. Yep, any moment now, he was going to... to...
"Nnnghnn..." his voice was low and guttural in response to her attentions. Moist lips glossed over his shoulder blade, excruciatingly slowly, before traveling back up to the shell of his ear and blowing soothingly. Obviously he knew he was going to be in shit for this, but it really couldn't get much worse.
"Take me to bed? We can do whatever you want...please..."
Jack's body jerked at her words, and his head just about exploded as he processed what she was asking him. Asking was hardly what she was doing, as she began nuzzling him between his shoulder blades, her arms hooking low around his waist. She was begging. The thought was too much for him to process. He'd never dreamed that he'd hear her say something like that, something which placed her in an obvious role of vulnerability. Sam Carter was a woman who was always in control even when she wasn't; it stunned him to discover how willing and pliable she would allow herself to be when it came to intimacy. It almost didn't seem like her.
"Car...uhhhnn..." Her name died on his lips as her hands toyed more purposefully, smoothing across the planes of his chest.
"Car?" She said almost indignantly, "Let's get one thing straight here, when you're with me you better not be thinking of anything else but me."
Jack was pretty certain he had that covered. In fact, he doubted if he'd ever think of anything else besides her for the rest of his life. The woman wrapped around him certainly didn't believe he'd learned his lesson though. In a move he considered infinitely more Carter-like, she spun him around, ensuring that his back slammed painfully into the door.
Jack groaned out loud at the heat running up his spine, and he knew his heart had stopped beating in that moment. He was certain the game was over, but to his pure relief and utter torment, she was nowhere close to focusing on his face. Jack couldn't help but smile and moan simultaneously as her hands dug into his hips and her taut body pressed against his almost demandingly. This was more like what he'd expected. Carter getting what she needed, never asking, just taking. Knowing he wouldn't get this opportunity again, he stole a glance downward. It had been a mistake... he couldn't think of anything more gorgeous than the woman in front of him. Flushed and needy, wearing the type sleek black little thing he could dream of her in, and the most incredible part was that she hadn't stopped touching him for a second. He sucked in his breath audibly when she diverted her attentions, her tongue dipping low into the hollow of his neck, her soft sighs of pleasure escalated as she began exploring more of him. Her fingertips scraped over his torso, lightly at first, then hard enough to make him bite back a yelp. He knew he'd have several interesting abrasions in the morning, but he also knew he'd admire every single one.
"I love the way you feel," she whispered airily to him.
His breath caught in his lungs at the sound of her voice, clearing away some of the dreamlike fog. This wasn't real, was it? It couldn't be real, because nothing that felt this incredible could be real.
"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, knowing he had to stop her or she'd never forgive him. He took solace in the fact that he hadn't allowed himself to touch her, not once,
"We're getting there. You've been eager all night, just be patient for a change," she smiled against him so he could actually feel the curve of her lips against his skin.
In that moment, it became agonizingly clear that she wasn't doing this for him. Hell she wasn't even thinking of him right now! In her head, she was with some random stranger she'd met at a bar. The thought was enough to make him ache in places he never knew existed.
"Carter- stop!" He pleaded forcefully, with whatever energy he had left in his wired body.
Passion glazed eyes looked up into his, quickly losing their warmth, and widening in shock.
"O'NEILL!"
"Wait! Before you do anything hysterical, you have to understand that there is a perfectly reasonable--"
"Reasonable?"
"Yes! See, I got a little visit from Teal'c— who, by the way, doesn't know the meaning of the word confidant— and we talk about you, then Kawalsky wandered into the conversation—"
"What are you doing here!" Her arm crossed in front of her defensively, her stance clearly indicating how rattled she was.
"I'm getting there Carter! I just figured I should stop by, say hello, explain what—"
"OUT!" She all but screeched, somewhere between rage and mortification.
"Okay... okay, I'm gone!" Jack assured, "That's what I was trying to do in the first place but the door's locked and I can't get out," he explained, tugging again at the handle savagely to prove a point.
"That would be because it opens outwards!" She snapped, throwing open the door, and giving him a helpful shove.
Jack stumbled out of the room, and into the lit hallway, while Sam frantically snatched up her clothing off the back of a chair.
"Wait! Where do you think you're going?" She asked bewildered, still pulling up her sweats as she saw him heading out the front.
"Leaving," Jack said carefully, his hand still braced at the door. He was really starting to hate doors.
"Leaving? You can't just leave! What's wrong with you?" She argued, clearly distraught, running her fingers through her messed hair and trying to regain a semblance of dignity.
"You told me to!" Jack yelled back in defense.
She looked at him blankly, "Oh, so now you start doing what I tell you to do? When did this start?"
"Carter, do you want me to leave or not!" Jack asked in frustration, more so because he was battling with his own desires at that moment. It didn't help that he was wearing nothing but jeans.
"Yes! No. I don't know..." she fumbled, "Wait right there," she ducked into her bedroom again and was out a second later.
"Your shirt. I may have popped a few buttons..."
Jack reached out tentatively to receive the balled up piece of clothing she'd thrust towards him. He made painstakingly certain not to brush his fingers over hers as he did.
"I'm so sorry!" she blurted out suddenly, taking a few steps closer; he instinctively backed away and stared at her warily, uncertain of how to respond to that.
"For what?" He asked, throwing his shirt back on and intentionally avoiding eye contact.
"You came looking for me, and I jumped you! I didn't know it was you! I don't usually act that way you know... I mean, I don't throw myself at... at... well, I guess sometimes I do, but it's more interesting that way, I think. Shit, and the door thing?" She was rambling through her nerves, and didn't know quite how to stop, "I hope you're not bruised? I didn't mean to hurt you. I realize that's what it looked like I was doing, but I like exciting sex as much as the next woman. Not that I'm into anything weird. But hey, there's nothing wrong with weird. If you were into anything weird, I would have no problem with that. You should totally do what you're comfortable with. Personally, I like experimenting when the right opportunity comes along. This one time in college I got tied up with—"
"CARTER! For fuck's sake, stop speaking!" He yelled at her, not out of anger but out of utter desperation. The truth was that his arousal was only getting more painful with the images she was putting in his head. He didn't know if he could handle it.
She turned into the proverbial deer in headlights, but Jack sure as hell wasn't the one in the driver's seat. His eyes fell closed as he tried to relax his body and clear his thoughts. If didn't, then he'd have to excuse himself and ask to use her bathroom to deal with his problem. That was too humiliating to even consider. A few moments later, he thought that he had things under control... and Sam looked like she'd just processed the smattering of words that had fallen from her mouth.
"Please, tell me I didn't say that all out loud?" She groaned.
Jack managed a faltering smile at her, "Don't worry about it."
"Shit, I'm so sorry about all this. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Carter, relax! This is all wrong, I'm the one who's supposed to be apologizing here, so stop this. You weren't in any danger of deflowering me... though, you may have ruined me for other women," he admitted ruefully.
"God," she groaned, falling back against the wall and hiding her face in her hands. When she didn't move from her position, he grew more anxious, wondering what had distressed her.
"Hey...is there something else? What's wrong? Tell me?" He asked, pulling her arms out the way so she couldn't hide. His hands cradled her face, giving her no choice but to look up at him.
"I was so afraid you'd report this," she said after a few unstable breaths, "I don't think my career can survive something like that. Not after everything that's happened. Then again considering events of late, I guess it doesn't really make a difference."
It took him a moment to follow her completely insane logic, but by the time he'd caught up to her, his hands had dropped away and he was scowling.
"Dammit, Carter!" He barely held his temper in check, hurt that her opinion of him was that low, "No matter what you may think of me, you have to know that I wouldn't do that to you. When I came here tonight, I was going to—"
"Oh my God! Where did he go?" She asked, looking around as if suddenly realizing she'd forgotten something.
"Who?"
"Who the hell do you think? My date!"
"Your date?" Jack scoffed, a derisive edge creeping into his voice, "You mean the guy you picked up at a bar, and brought home to fuck for a night?"
Her eyes narrowed, "Not that it's any of your business, but David and I had a connection that you couldn't even begin to—"
"His name was DARYL!" Jack yelled at her.
Sam blinked skeptically, "Are you sure?"
"YES! I may not have planned on sleeping with him, but I did recall his name," Jack snapped, "God, Carter, I'd hate to be the man who falls in love with you. The idiot would be in for a life of misery and incorrect name-calling."
"This wasn't about that, I made it clear to him before starting anything, not that it's any of your business," Sam argued defensively.
"Couldn't have been that great if you fell asleep on him."
She blushed lightly, "I was tired."
"You think he would have cared? He came here for one reason, and I doubt he'd have left without it if I hadn't come along."
"Oh really? Well in that case I guess I should be thanking you for saving me from a night of uncomplicated sex with a really good looking guy. Whew- dodged a close one there, didn't I?" She said, her words heavily drenched in sarcasm.
"Carter, how the hell could you be attracted to someone like that? I expected you to have better standards— or any for that matter!"
"I'm not having this discussion, it's got nothing to do with you! Now you've just ruined my evening, isn't that enough?"
"Relax. I'm pretty sure there's a 1800-number you can call for the same service. You know what? I'll foot the bill if it makes you feel better."
Sam's hands fisted at her sides and she forced herself not to throw a punch at him. That wouldn't have been healthy, for either of them.
"So this is how it's going to be like between us now O'Neill?" She asked, the rage seeping out of her eyes, and disappointment creeping in.
"Like what Carter?" He asked her dispassionately, "How did you expect me to react? I haven't slept in a week, I drive myself fucking crazy thinking about you, I come here to see you, to beg and to grovel, and instead I find... Daryl."
"Well I apologize for making this so hard on you," she said icily, "I... I needed someone tonight. I'm sorry if you find that distasteful."
Jack bit back a reply, and groaned inwardly. He'd come here to make peace with her, not to show her how much of a complete bastard he could be.
"I don't... I didn't mean it that way. You should have come to me, or Daniel."
She looked at him wryly, "Not for what I was after. I find both you and Daniel incredibly attractive men, but he's married, and I work with you, so you see the problem."
"You think I'm incredibly attractive? Wait... you think Daniel is incredibly attractive!"
"Ugh..." she rolled her eyes, "O'Neill, what were you doing here in the first place? Besides scaring off Darren."
"Daryl."
"You're making me feel slutty for not remembering this guy's name. You know, he wouldn't have remembered mine in the morning either."
"Are you kidding? He probably would have engraved it on his skate board, then tattooed it across that rippled chest of his."
"He did have a great chest," she nodded in agreement.
"CARTER!" Jack roared.
"What?" She asked, cautiously adding a hint of innocence in her tone, as if testing the waters.
"I'm here for a reason, and believe it or not, it didn't involve picking a fight with you," He explained, "I wanted to see you. I missed you."
"I was in the infirmary for six days. You didn't think I was worth your time then, so why now?"
He looked at her perplexed, "You thought that... dammit Carter, I did see you! Not when you were awake, but I was watching you..." he cringed at his own words, "That didn't sound as creepy in my head."
She wore a less than impressed look, "I get it. You feel bad, you wanted to apologize. Well It's a little late now, so don't bother. I'm over it."
"No, you're not. I regret not coming to you sooner, not speaking to you about what happened, and I have no excuse for it. It was cowardly, and I'm sorry. However, I won't let you sweep this all under the rug and pretend to forget about it."
"What do you want me to do!"
"Yell at me, tell me the truth! I hurt you, and the thought is screwing with my mind. I just want you to hurt me back so we can be even."
"Even? We're not twelve, O'Neill," she shook her head, but seeing as how he wasn't backing down, she decided he could use a dose of reality, "You want the truth, here it is. I hate what you did to me. The way you looked at me, talked to me, touched me, like I was worth little more than gum under your shoe. I thought you'd be there to bail me out, but nobody from the SGC came for me. You let the NID drug me into oblivion, and then you came back to throw it all in my face. I went all the way to the edge, and when I fell, nobody was around to get me back on my feet. The SGC let me down, and so did you."
"Carter, I..."
"I'm not done," she said coolly, noting with satisfaction that O'Neill looked like he was going to throw up, "Now, while I may have gone through my own private hell, I do realize you all did what you thought was in the best interests of Earth. Well, most of you did. If I'd been in your shoes... chances are I'd have done the same thing."
"Exactly! I really needed you to know that everything I did was directed at the Goa'uld, not you," he said in earnest.
She looked up at him skeptically, "What you said about me not being a good soldier..."
"Bullshit! I want you to disregard everything I said, everything I did that day. I knew what I was doing, and I said it all on purpose, knowing it would hurt you. Or the Goa'uld. God, I'm not even sure why I said it in the first place! Why the hell should it matter? You've never needed someone to validate your contribution to the SGC before. Don't let it start with me. I swear I never meant to hurt you Carter... I'm sorry that I did."
She nodded slowly, staring unfocused at the ground.
"I appreciate the apology."
"Then why won't you look at me?" He asked disheartened.
"I'm going to need some time to deal with this, without you, or anyone else breathing down my neck."
"I thought I was helping you."
"Well the next time you get the urge to help me, don't," she muttered, "Not that there's going to be a next time."
"What are you talking about?"
"I believe congratulations are in order. You made team leader of SG1."
She did look at him then, and Jack cringed, "How did you find out?"
"You were the obvious choice... but I guess Siler confirmed it."
"Siler! I'll kill him. You weren't supposed to hear it that way Carter, hell I only found out an hour ago. Hammond would have informed you himself, but you left without checking in with him."
"And you were only too happy to jump right in."
"It's only temporary! You had to know that until this Tok'ra thing is resolved, it's safer for you to take the backseat on a few missions."
"Because they don't trust me."
"It's not a question of trust, it's a matter of caution. Whatever agenda the suits on top may have, this is still the smartest thing to do. If it had happened to anyone else they'd have followed the same procedures... so you can stop feeling like there was a personal vendetta against you, because there wasn't."
Sam held still, absorbing the full impact of his words. Truthfully, she was surprised that he hadn't tried to dodge the accusation or sugar-coat the answer... but it hadn't made it any easier for her to hear. Turning abruptly, she made her way to the lounge, falling into the plush cushions that seemed to offer a little comfort. She'd left him standing in the hallway; the choice she'd given him had been clear. Stay or go. It seemed pretty simple on the surface... but she couldn't help but feel monumentally relieved when she heard his soft footfalls coming up behind her. She hadn't realized how much she wanted him with her. To talk to her. He'd left once before, bailed when things got too emotional for him, but he'd apologized for it. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was make sure he never ditched her again, but she had no clue how to do it.
"I didn't mean it to come out that bluntly," he explained.
"No...I think I needed to hear that. I take it you practiced the speech?" She commented, as he finally took a seat beside her.
"Several times, yes," he admitted, stretching his long legsout in front of him, "So are we good, Carter? Burying the spade and all that?"
"The hatchet."
"What?"
"It's burying the hatchet."
"I don't have a hatchet."
"Must you go out of your way to annoy me?"
"Will it make you smile at me?"
"You've done nothing but make my life miserable. Why would I smile at you? Of all the egotistical, self-involved..."
"I brought you ice-cream!"
Sam looked at him blankly. "What?"
"Ice-cream, Carter.Teal'c said that on Chulak it was customary for a man to bring his wife a present when he wanted to ask forgiveness."
"Oh good, so the sleepless hours spent scrawling 'Mrs. O'Neill' in my journal haven't been for nothing," she said dryly.
"I tossed on the seat when I came in..." he ignored her remark, searching instead for his peace offering, "Oh look, it's right here!"
Jack picked up the package not noticing that since the time he'd hurled it there, it had melted and oozed its way out of it's confinement. The result was a sticky chocolatey mess on the once-spotless upholstery.
"I'll... pay to have that cleaned," he said carefully.
"Oh yes you will," Sam agreed, surveying the mess he'd made with little reaction, "I just have one question O'Neill, and I'm going on the assumption that you have a rudimentary knowledge of the changing states of matter..."
"What?" He asked absently, sucking at his thumb where the sticky sweetness had seeped, not noticing the effect it his action had on Sam.
She managed to divert her eyes before she gave herself away by blushing, "Ice-cream cold. Cold things melt when warm," she explained shortly, "So why... why didn't you just toss it in the freezer instead of punishing my furniture?"
Jack had the decency to look sheepish before answering, "I may have been a little distracted by your prior company."
Sam couldn't help but laugh at the sulking tone that had entered his voice.
"Jealous, O'Neill?"
"Hardly, Carter."
"Riiight," she said, almost mesmerized at how his lower lip had protruded slightly in a disgruntled pout. Sam found herself reluctantly admitting that she was absurdly attracted to him. Jack O'Neill, the guy who was the cause of her frequent migraines, was also someone she really wanted at the moment. The forgettable half hour she'd spent with Dean had been nothing compared to the heated seconds it had taken to strip O'Neills shirt off and explore his willing body. It had been exactly what she'd needed all day, and she knew he could give it to her. She was so tired of waiting...
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked indignantly, but immediately regretted his words when he saw a predatory glisten in her eyes.
"It means you couldn't stand the thought of someone else being with me," she said huskily, "Usually I'd find it obnoxious, but I guess it's to be expected. Possessiveness is a common trait in guys like you."
Jack didn't like her analysis of him, he didn't like her tone, and he really didn't like the way she leaned over to him. Her eyes were focused contently on his lips, like she owned them, and was just biding her time until the inevitable. Jack forced himself to look away. He'd just gotten over his encounter in her bedroom, and having her stare at him that was certainly wasn't helping.
"You're insane, Carter. Were you drinking before I arrived?" He already knew the answer to that question, but he couldn't think of another valid reason for her to be doing this.
"Nope," she smiled, bracing her hands on either side of his head and using it as leverage to hold her body inches away from his.
"Then what's this about?" He asked, foolishly intoxicated by her scent and proximity, but innately understanding that she wasn't thinking straight.
"I've just realized that if I can't the things I want, then I might as well have the things right in front of me."
"You've been through a lot lately, Carter. You don't really know what you want... and you certainly don't realize what's in front of you," Jack said intensely, making a move to get up.
She didn't let him, choosing instead to descend her weight over his hips so they were locked together with her straddled above him. His sharp intake of breath was loud in the room; their eyes met in a duel of wills, hers playful, his resolute.
"You're so turned on... and you haven't even touched me yet," she remarked blithely.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack replied. His tone was cool and neutral, but his skin burned wherever it was in contact with hers.
"C'mon O'Neill, you've wanted me the moment you saw me. You still do," she insisted, her eyes raking down his body and landing on something Jack really didn't want her noticing.
"I don't know what's gotten into you Colonel, but I suggest you stand down or I might take you up on this little game you're playing," he warned, hoping to call her on her bluff.
"I was counting on it," She said, looking down at him as her hand drifted south. He gripped her wrist tightly, but she didn't seem to particularly notice, or care.
Jack swore loudly, shooting up to his feet and almost knocking her over in the process.
"What the hell is this about?" He growled sharply, but lost a bit of his venom when he realized she was staring at him in disarray.
"I figured it was painfully obvious," she said like it was common knowledge.
"Huh?" Jack asked, pacing. He never paced.
"You want me, O'Neill. I'm right here, what's the problem?"
He ground to a halt, staring at her wide-eyed.
"That's irrelevant! If I wanted cake, it doesn't mean I go out and have cake every time I get the urge!"
"An urge? Well thanks..."
"I didn't mean that you were an... urge..." His voice hitched, "I don't understand. Before, you were mortified by all this, and now you're doing it on purpose? What's changed?"
"I was surprised the first time, didn't know it was you, that's all. For the record, you didn't exactly go out of your way to try and stop me then; in fact, from where I was standing it seemed like you were enjoying yourself. Obviously I wouldn't be doing this if I thought you'd report it."
"So it's fine as long as nobody knows? That's your grand plan?"
"You don't have to be so condescending about it. Don't tell me the thought hasn't crossed your mind?" She retorted.
"It hasn't!" He denied futilely, even as his eyes trailed down to her mouth, continuing by their own volition past the slope of her neck, and the soft curves of her body.
Sam rolled her eyes, "You're a guy, O'Neill. You practically have it encoded in the subroutines of your brain to have as much sex as possible before the machinery stops working."
He cringed at that, "First of all, my machinery never stops working, secondly, what's up with the degrading view of men, Carter? Who hurt you enough to make you this cynical? Your ex-husband?" He accused.
"That's none of your business, but while we're on the subject... what about you? Could it be, that the reason why you're so uncomfortable with this is because the last woman you loved never desired you that way?"
"I've been with women since Sara," he shot back.
"I'm not talking about sex, I'm talking about a relationship."
"Which is certainly not what you're after!"
"I never said I was! I just want you for tonight, the textbook male fantasy, what's the problem here?"
"For starters? You've thrown me in a category with men who you have absolutely no respect for. I know I've hurt you, but don't I don't deserve that. I'm not in the habit of jumping every woman who looks my way, especially not a woman who I actually care about."
"This coming from the man who perfectly willing when he thought I was a hooker?"
"That was different!"
"Why?"
"Because... Carter... it was you," he explained inadequetly, falling into the seat beside her again. A little further away this time.
"Great explanation."
"Colonel!" He growled, his frustration exploding, but it didn't seem to affect her, "Did you miss the class where they explained to cadets that fucking each other was a no-no?"
"It's not like the Air Force has done much for me lately O'Neill, and now that I think about it, there's nothing more I could possibly do to make things worse."
"And you figured I'd go along with it just because I could use a quick lay? If anything, tonight has made me even more convinced that whatever potential existed between us wouldn't be a risk worth pursuing. You're obviously not looking for anything real, and I for one don't want to blow my life on someone who will be out the door before I wake up in the morning." He yelled at her.
"I don't..." she began irritatedly, "I didn't.. think..."
"No you didn't think... you didn't think about how this would effect anyone, not even yourself! What happened to the woman who cared about her career more than anything else in the world? You sure you don't still have a snake in your head, because you're not sounding like the Carter I know," he'd snapped before he'd had half a chance to stop himself.
The accusation hung heavily in the air, suffocating whatever had been building between them. Jack seemed almost as shocked as she was, and realizing that no apology could soothe the sting of his words, he took advantage of her motionless state, and slipped a hand through her hair, tugging her down into a kiss.
Sam didn't even have time to back away as his lips met hers, opening and reeling at the floodgates of emotion he'd unleashed. Reluctance and fear caused her to pull away, but his desperation and regret had made his hold tighten on her.
A hand shot out to his chest, but Jack gripped it with his own, their linked fingers trapped between their bodies. Sensing her rising unease, he'd forced himself to slow down, cupping her cheek, tilting her face upwards and tentatively seeking permission for something that was already in progress.
Sam hadn't been prepared for him, but it seemed futile to try and resist when his tongue was stroking and flicking against hers, forcing her to match his intensity or be left behind. The moan that escaped her hadn't been one of pleasure, but a result of the aching desire in her heart. She hadn't planned on feeling this much emotion for him. In some way, she must have known it would be like this, that's why she'd hidden behind the game she'd been drawing him into. She'd hurt him through her assumption that he was just after one thing, and he'd hurt her right back, using her own insecurities against her. The kiss they were sharing may have been deep and profound, but it was born of guilt and nothing more.
As if sensing the other had something to say, they broke apart.
"I didn't mean what I just said. It came out of nowhere," He said brokenly.
"I know," she said, still trying to catch her breath, "For what it's worth, you're probably right."
"Finally..." Jack said with relief, interlinking his fingers around her back, and allowing her to lean against them, "What am I right about?"
She smiled, her fingertips playing at his lips; she swore she could still feel them hard and hot against her mouth. Somehow, in all this mess, he'd become so incredibly important to her, and she hadn't been treating him fairly. She had to make him understand. He'd made it clear he wasn't willing to land himself in a compromising position, and that's exactly what they were doing to each other. Well she wouldn't put him through it any more.
"You were right about me. If I'm not acting like myself, then the reason is because I don't feel like myself. A lot of it's got to do with what happened with Jolinar," she tried explaining.
"From the brain stamp you mean?"
"No... not only that. It's just that I've been hurting so much lately, second guessing my instincts because I've felt... wrong. I guess that's what this whole fiasco was about. That, and the fact that I've never been good with men."
"I wouldn't say that, Carter. My son adores you. He keeps calling to ask about you, wouldn't stop until I promised to bring you with me the next time I took him fishing. Shit, I never did thank you for looking out for him, did I? I don't even want to think about what could have happened if you hadn't gotten him out the way. He told me everything, I guess I just locked it away in a place where I wouldn't have to think of it."
"He's a great kid O'Neill... and of course I got him out of the way. What kind of sister would I be if I hadn't?"
"What?"
"Never mind, it's a sibling thing, and you've got only-child written all over you," She commented, pulling her knees up so she could wrap her arms around her legs. She didn't turn back to him.
Jack had felt her recoiling from him gradually, and he'd been so tempted to take her by the arm and simply pull her back. She wasn't reacting to anything at the moment, giving no indication of what was going through her head. Jack realizedthat if he wanted to find out, he'd have to start by asking the right questions
"Carter, what we were doing... just now," he began softly, "Do you realize what it meant? I don't know if you've ever been court martialed before, but it's not an experience you want to repeat."
"I didn't mean to put you in that position...I'm sorr--"
"I wasn't fishing for an apology. I just really need to know why you did it. Was it just a convenience?"
"No! Can we please blame it all on post-traumatic stress? I don't want you thinking that I was just using you like I'd planned to do with Dillan. You mean more to me than that. Ever since... ever since what happened when I lost Jolinar...It was one of the worst experiences of my life, and you didn't leave me alone even when told you to. You knew what I needed and you stayed with me. Being with you is... uhmm..." she cleared her throat, not certain if she wanted to continue. His hand reached for hers, enveloping it with his own. The gesture was almost more than she could take.
"O'Neill, being with you is almost as hard as being away from you... because I care about you more than I'd realized. Please don't ask me where this is coming from, because I really don't know. Obviously I'm not going to expect you to act on anything I say, it's not fair to you. I shouldn't have assumed you wanted the same things I did... bit arrogant of me, wasn't it? Whatever issues I have, everything I've been afraid of... it doesn't compare to what's happening outside that door."
"Which door? This door?" He asked hoarsely, still not past the part where she'd said she cared about him.
Sam smiled at his confusion, "Any door. I'm talking about the grander scheme of things. The SGC, Earth, the Tok'ra."
"I see what you mean."
"You do?" She asked hopefully.
"No."
Sam broke into a rueful smile, getting to her feet and tugging his hand so he was forced to stand with her. "Never mind O'Neill. Let's just say that sleeping with you probably wasn't one of my brightest ideas. I'm already embarrassed about it, and I'm so sorry if I made things awkward. I understand if you want to leave, in fact I think it's probably a good idea. I...I think I need a drink."
She turned, and made her way to the fridge, reaching for the sole beer that stood alone that the back. Jack appeared behind her a moment later, his breath close to her ear.
"You didn't make things awkward, I don't want to leave, and as for that drink... that can't be good for you right now," Jack made his reply. He reached around to the sink, pouring her a glass of water and offering it to her in exchange for the beer. She'd reluctantly made the swap.
"Carter, thank you for being honest with me," he said, knowing her confession had left her exposed and uncertain, "...But I have a feeling that you've underestimated the extent of what I feel for you."
She looked up at him wide eyed, "Didn't we just establish that the whole feelings thing was a bad idea?"
"No... you said a whole bunch of things that I didn't quite follow, but I haven't actually voiced my opinion on the matter, and there's something I've been wanting to—"
"O'Neill, you better not say what I think you're about to say, because it'll just make things worse," she interrupted, taking a long cool sip of her drink. It ran soothingly down her throat, but hadn't managed to relax her in the way she'd needed.
"Carter... Sam... will you marry me?"
Jack had never actually seen water shoot out of someone's nose, and he was pretty certain he never wanted to repeat the experience.
She looked like she was trying to say something, but had somehow managed to choke on the liquid in the process of spluttering out the words.
"Carter! I was joking, I swear," He said, trying not to laugh since it would only add fuel to the situation. Then again, he was also starting to realize how much he enjoyed antagonizing her. So he'd ended up laughing, but handed her a kleenex off the counter to make up for it.
"Fucking hell, O'Neill. You don't pull that kind of a stunt on a woman!" She scolded irately, embarrassed that she'd made a mess of herself.
"Sorry, but you weren't really listening to me, and I had to get you to shut up," he said in defense of his actions, "If you haven't noticed Carter, there's two people in this situation. You and me. I for one, actually want to see where this relationship is going."
She stopped, midway through blowing her nose, "Are you serious?" she asked nasally.
"Absolutely."
"Well your timing sucks."
"Yours isn't much better, Carter."
"We'd have to wait you know," she said, her logic kicking in automatcally, "We can't go any further without deciding what to do with ourselves."
"You could always retire?" He suggested, barely keeping a straight face.
"Bite me."
"Don't tempt me," He replied, sending a smoldering look her way.
"Well why don't you retire, O'Neill? You're what... late forties?"
"Mid! Mid forties," he corrected, quite offended, "And you know I can't retire. You were the one who brought me back into it in the first place, now I don't think I can leave again. Besides, if I do go then you'll never see me running around in uniform, being all heroic, and you'll completely lose interest in me sexually."
"Believe me O'Neill, your heroics have nothing to do with my interest in you. Sexual, or otherwise," she told him, her smile playful yet sincere. She had no idea that her statement had sent his body throbbing back to life with a vengeance.
"...And that's my cue to leave," he said with finality.
She looked bewildered for a moment, a small frown appearing in her features as she wondered if he was going to pull one of his disappearing stunts again.
"Why?" She asked.
"Because, Carter... you've had an incredible effect on my body tonight, and now I have this little... problem," he said, clearly embarrassed that it had only taken a few words from her to do this to him.
"Not so little apparently," she said with appreciation, her eyes trailing south, "I'd love to take care of it for you, but I guess you're right."
Jack swore loudly in annoyance. His mouth descended on hers just as her arms hooked around his neck. This kiss was much different from the first they had shared. This one had no heavy emotion, but was evidence of a certain adoration and need they felt for each other. It had escalated quickly, but control had been something they'd dealt with before. They pulled apart, naturally resting their foreheads against each other as the sounds of irregular breathing filled the air.
"Carter, we're going to Vorash in the morning, you're getting this Tok'ra shit sorted out, I'm giving you back your job, and when we come home, we're figuring out this mess in a way that'll let us be together. I don't care what it takes, you'll be in love with me by the end of the week," he promised, then turned to leave before he was tempted to do otherwise.
She stood in her doorway, the pleasant sounds of night warmed her as she watched his truck disappear down the dimly lit street. Sam couldn't help but feel slightly giddy, her body still humming with the memory of him. Absently, she touched her lips, recalling the dizzying taste of his mouth on hers. Something told her she wouldn't have to wait until the end the week to fall for him.
She was so already there.
Please review!
I put you into a fluff coma, didn't I? Hopefully that whole exchange didn't seem too abrupt, but I guess I'd meant for it to be that way. You know what happens when you rush into something with a neat little plan... it never works out the way it's supposed to. ;)