Title: Another Bump in the Road
Chapter Five: Kissing the Woman's Feet, Toes, Toenails, Yada, Yada.
Season 4
Spoiler: Episode: 402

Dear readers, grateful thanks for all your reviews. I covet each and every one of them. I'm winding this story up to a finish. However, there may be more after the first of the year. I always wanted to write Season 4 outside of the, 'Chosen Heart series,' according to canon. So who knows what might happen, especially if I'm nagged enough. That said, on with the show!

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Ah, heck, she'd called him Jack! Moving faster than a speeding locomotive . . . crap, now he thought he like Superman, Jack limped after the woman he loved.

Fortunately, she'd fled out the kitchen door into her security fenced backyard that was dark as the ace of spades, save for the overcast moon's light. Where'd those stars go?

While Jack's eyes adjusted he heard the dull thuds and knew where to find her. Yep, kicking that poor old tree. Thank heavens it was a hardy Maple. Jack knew better than to interfere with a Carter tantrum—that she labeled stress release. Elevators and locker doors didn't stand a chance. So, he stood back and let her kick and hammer the tree, hoping she didn't scrape her knuckles. Hey, better that tree than his straw jaw, he mused. Still, he didn't make light of Carter's black mood.

Nope, this was serious.

Not only did his stomach ache but he was scared shitless of losing her, them. Whatever it took he'd do it, and that included retirement. Four years of loving this woman and not being able to do so much as kiss her had taken its toll. What he'd feared most was how the incident with Alar had revealed more of Jack's darker side and, that like Jonas Hanson he had mayhap crossed the lunatic fringe. And what if he had? Then, he didn't deserve to be with any woman, let alone Samantha Carter.

Yet what woman besides Sam would put up with him? Heck, even when he didn't understand himself, she seemed to see through the murky mess of Jack O'Neill and redeem the last shred of innocence he possessed. No, he couldn't—wouldn't go down without a fight. He needed her and even if the regs kept them from ever being lovers, he'd deal. Hell, he'd settle for whatever scraps she tossed him. Six years ago, he let guilt and pride ruin his marriage to Sara. Jack wasn't about to make the same mistake with Carter. If he had to make a fool out of himself, it wasn't beneath him. This was one of those rare epiphanies when he realized he'd never been in so deep over his head or heart for a woman. He was pathetically and ecstatically in love with Samantha Carter.

When the autumn wind rustled fallen leaves Jack hugged himself. Sam's angry grunts hadn't lessened. With a deep breath he glanced at his watch. Two minutes and like the energizer bunny she was going strong. The moonlight revealed tears on her face. Yep, time to intervene. The tree would thank him—he hoped. Right now they weren't wannabe lovers. No, they were officers of the United States Air Force so he donned his military mode to stay focused.

"Major," he ordered softly as she dropped her forehead against the tree trunk. "Look at me."

"No." She dragged her sweater's sleeve across her face. "Please leave, sir."

"Nope." He touched her right shoulder and felt her flinch. "As your CO and friend I need to know why you're pissed at me."

"Uh?" She glanced at him. "I'm not angry with you, sir."

"Ah, doh!" He dragged a hand over his blue shadowed jaw. "Coulda fooled me."

"How . . . do you do what you do and keep sane, sir?"

"You think I'm sane?" he asked surprised.

"Yeah, that's what scares me." She faced him and leaned against the tree.

"Enough to end us?" He had to know.

"You didn't answer," she insisted.

Jack gently brushed her tears with his thumb pads. His touch lingered. When she looked trustingly into his gaze he regrettably let his hands drop to his sides. "It's what I—we do, Carter. As CO I have no choice. If I analyze every decision I'd go wacko, bonkers, three fries—."

"Short of a happy meal, I know, sir." She half smiled.

"Yeah." He sniffed. "Look, Carter, I understand and accept that you don't agree or approve of what I did to Alar."

"You killed a defenseless man." She tilted her head and looked straight on.

"Yes, I did." He felt the weight of his judgment, his shoulders slumped. "It's not the first time nor will it be the last."

"So why do it?"

"Because the moment Alar's demented gaze locked with mine I saw Adolph Hitler. I saw Martin Luther King being shot. I saw a cross burning on the front lawn of a friend. And then I saw Alar being tried for crimes against humanity and spending the rest of his life behind bars."

"See, that's where we differ, Colonel." She hugged herself. "I don't think it's my job to decide what the courts would have done with him. Maybe if he'd lived among us, he'd have change."

"A leopard can't change its spots, Carter. He'd been brainwashed by his father and honestly believed his race was superior and—"

"Don't!" she held up a shaking hand.

"I'm just saying."

And I'm saying I don't think I can—."

"Live with killing someone like Alar?"

She bobbed her blond head.

"That's a bizarre statement considering you've killed your share of Jaffa and other bad-ass aliens."

"No, as a soldier I can live with acts of self-defense and the necessary bloodshed of battle. I can't live with deciding if an unarmed person who had different ethnic beliefs should live or die. Guess I'm not made of the same metal as you, sir."

"Ah." Jack glanced into the tree branches. "So the rusty old metal matter, huh?"

"Please, this is hard for me to say, sir, especially to you."

"Sorry. I know." He grimaced and looked at her. "Yet after four years serving with me you now question my command."

"I'm not questioning your command ability, Colonel. There have been many times we've butted heads on an order or judgment call you've made."

"True, those are the memorable times I wonder if it says colonel on my uniform." He smiled briefly.

"Me too." She teased before turning serious. "Look, I may not agree with every decision you make, but I respect you and there's no one I'd rather have leading me or watching my six, sir."

"Thanks." He smiled. "So what's the problem, Carter?" He waggled his hands at her.

"If I'm that unsure about an Alar situation, what's to say how I'll handle other serious matters. I'm afraid I'll freeze up, make the wrong call."

"There are no absolutes, Carter, especially in our line of work."

"For me there is."

He nodded. "So what? Ya going to toss in the towel, quit, take a hike, walk the plank, leave the job you love, stop saving the world, burrow in your lab and take up knitting?" Winded, he exhaled.

"If I must."

"Smack me, Rosy!" He folded to his haunches and kissed the ground.

"Sir?" She quickly dropped to his level and gripped his shoulders.

"Hey." He looked up and grinned. "That means we can take up housekeeping. Ya know wedding bells, the white picket fence, two point three kids, and a dog. Always wanted a dog."

"Colonel!" Exasperated, she shoved away muttering an obscenity.

"What?" He whined. "Since when don't you like dogs?"

"I'm serious, sir." She scowled.

"Me too." He winked. "Especially the dog part."

Sam shook her short blond hair. "Now you're mocking me." The shadow of a smile tugged her lips.

"I'd never mock you, Carter, at least not intentionally." He reached out and caressed her cheek. "But I'll act like a fool if it makes you smile."

"Thanks, sir." She smiled broader.

"For what?" He cocked his head.

"Reminding me that I'm more than a solider in your eyes."

"Oh, that," he shrugged. "Think nothing of it. Now up." He clutched her shoulders, urging her to stand. She obeyed, but did most of the work as his knee rebelled. His left arm draping her shoulders he turned them toward the back door, and they entered in silence.

Once inside, he locked the kitchen door and watched her blow her nose and then extinguish the candles on the table. Clearly their romantic night was dead in the water. He helped her clear off the table and glanced at his wrist watch. 0145 hours. Way past bedtime.

"I gather you don't want to talk anymore," he said over his shoulder as she loaded the dishwasher.

She shook her head. "I need to sleep on this, sir. But talking to General Hammond and Daniel helped some."

"I see." Like hell he did. His chest tightened. She'd gone over his head. Not to mention Mister Humanitarian, Daniel Jackson, got an ear full. Jack felt screwed.

"I'm sorry." She turned with soiled plates in hand. "I should have spoken to you first."

"Yes, you should have, Major," he said with a frosty nip.

"But I needed someone else's perspective."

"Ah." He stared. "So you told Hammond what?" He flourished a hand and summoned patience.

"That I wasn't dealing well with the Alar matter, that I'm not leadership material —"

"Oh, fer cryin'outloud!" Jack slammed his fist onto the counter. "I thought we settled that."

Startled, Sam jumped in place. "Not exactly." She avoided his glint.

"Fine. So what'd Hammond say?" Jack's timber softened.

"Well, first off, had your roles been reversed he'd have shot Alar on the spot."

"And that bothered you?"

"No, I suspected as much. You and the General are of the same metal, sir."

"Well, I don't know about the same, but yes, we agree on a lot of things."

"General Hammond thinks I should see Doctor MacKenzie."

"Now there's a novel thought. Not." He rolled his eyes. "You don't need a shrink, Carter, you just need well, perspective."

"That is why I talked with General Hammond and Daniel, sir." She sounded exasperated.

"And I suppose Daniel's still is on soap box."

"Actually no." She glanced at her stocking feet. "He told the General that before Alar died, you apologized in your normal irreverent way and he accepted in his ever gracious manner. End of discussion. However, Daniel believes that I could not have done what you did. He thinks that—"

"Screw Daniel!" Jack stomped over and got in her face. "That's not his call, Major, or yours. It's mine and General Hammond's!"

"But sir. . ."

"Don't sir me!" He marched around her. Sam's wide-eyed gaze followed him. "Just where do you get off throwing a pity party because of something that I did? What right do you have to question your command abilities or decision making? If Alar's dead it's because of me, not you. Like it or not, you possess the steel to make life and death decisions. And how do I know this?" He held up a finger.

"I—" She chewed her lower lip.

"Aack! I'll tell you how. Because the very thought scares the every loving crap out of you, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Sam gulped.

"Exactly. Carter, every time I make that call it scares the shit out of me, haunts me to the core. But I do it because there's a lot more at stake than you, me or SG-1. Sometimes, I feel as if the fate of the entire galaxy rests on my shoulders."

"Me too, sir."

"See. And that's how I know that you can do anything, including the unpleasant act of taking someone's life outside the normal combat situation. On the other hand, if you hadn't reacted like you did today, I'd be seeing MacKenzie myself."

"But . . ."

"You have to stop second guessing yourself. Besides, you and Daniel possess a lot more humanity than I ever will."

Sam's lips moved, but he held up a hand and she zipped it for the moment.

"Even when I don't like it, you guys add the balance I need to weigh what's best for our team and others. I don't deny I'm black and white. I could even excuse it for my Black Ops training, but I've always been this way. Take this mission. I was on my high horse to gain as much technology for Earth as possible and for awhile there, I didn't care what it cost." He strolled into the living room and dropped onto a sofa, extended his long legs and clasped his hands in his lap. "I was an ass, Carter."

"Sir, I also felt that way—at first." Sam sat beside him, their thighs brushing.

"That I was an ass?" He glanced up with his stupefied look.

"With all due respect, yes to the ass part. But I also wanted to gain their technology at all cost."

"So you followed orders, did as told, right?"

"Yes. Although, I wanted to kick your cute backside a few times."

"Just a few?" He glanced over with a smirk. "So ya think my ass is cute?"

She gave a generous smile.

"Sweet."

"What?" she looked confused.

"When you smile." He grinned. "It makes everything all right."

"Oh." She blushed and wrung her hands. "But every thing's not right. The whole living with such decisions . . ."

"Oh, fercryin'outloud!" Jack turned to face her. "Look, Carter, the first day we met I knew that you were—are leadership material. I also know I can't force you to go against your gut instinct or sense of values. And as different as we are, I'd like to think we have things in common like being respecters of human life, saving the world and—" He dragged a hand through his hair and muttered, "Whoa, bit of a mouthful."

"Yes, sir." She pressed her fingers to his moving lips. "And I get it. Thanks."

"Oh." He mouthed. "Fine. Just please reconsider whatever messed up idea ya've got about not leading SG-1. . ." Did he say that?

"Huh? What?" She looked startled.

"Well, I won't always be here to lead you kids down the yellow brick road. And I can't honestly think of anyone more qualified than you to fill my size twelve boots."

Sam gaped.

"What? We have discussed this before, Carter." He insisted and clenched his antsy hands.

"No, sir, not to my knowledge." She tilted her blond head, blue eyes bright with curiosity.

"Okay, well consider it discussed." He shot to his feet, stretched and yawned. "Now, I've got to catch some zz's and you need to do the same, Major. That's an order."

"Just like that," Sam huffed, stood and crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Excuse me?" Jack feigned ignorance and retrieved his jacket from the kitchen chair.

"How you dismiss my reservations about whether or not I can live with such decisions, sir."

"Oh, that." He turned and shrugged. "I just do, because it's what we do, Carter." He made quote marks in the air. "We save the world and sometimes make unpleasant decisions that yes, we have to live with come hell or high water. You may not realize it, but you've been making those tough calls since your first trip through the Stargate."

"Another one of those choices we make and accept without conscious?"

Crossing his eyes, Jack opened his mouth and shut it. "Is this a trick question, Carter?"

"No, sir." She shook her pretty head as if weary of their exchange. "And yes, I'll seriously think about what you said and about my future with the SGC."

"Nice." He brushed a chaste kiss across her forehead. "Now, before I do something I won't regret, I'm so outa here. . ." To his surprise Sam wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. It took Jack an entire second to return her embrace, easing his right arm around her waist and drawing her into him. Yep, this was nice. He inhaled her strawberry scented hair and enjoyed the rare moment.

"Why do I get the feeling you've failed to tell me something, sir," Sam said against his chest.

"Don't know. Have I?" He pulled back and gazed into her misting eyes.

Sam slugged his right arm and sniffed. "I know there's a lot left unsaid between us, sir."

"Now you tell me?" he mocked, relieved she wasn't talking about his bad knees. "I can retire ya know."

"No. Not until we defeat the Goa'uld."

"Okay then, we'll continue to keep 'us' locked in the closet. We continue on as we are, Major. It's your call and always will be."

"That's not fair."

"Didn't say it was, but the Antarctic mission from Ne'tu brought our feelings to the surface. You could have left it go then, let it be the crazed words of a dying man. You didn't."

"No, I didn't," she admitted. "But then you didn't want me too, did you?"

"Guilty as charged." He smiled then frowned. "Times like this, I wish I hadn't said those things. Wished I hadn't kissed you. But almost dying and being delirious with pain cracked this old flyboy."

"And I'm glad we did talk before I crawled out of that snow cave. And why must you always be negative?"

"Me negative? I'm insulted! However, I am a realist. Sure you don't want off this old merry-go-round while you're young enough to meet someone far more worthy?"

"Enough! I don't want anyone else. I haven't since the first day I saw you in the briefing room wearing your dress blues. You took my breath away."

"Same here." He prodded her chin upward with his right index finger and looked into her gray blue eyes. "Look, I want you happy, Carter, and sometime I think you've settled for the comfort zone of these old arms. Let's face it, I'm not that complex. I'm a safe bet. I'm willing to wait however long it takes, but not at the expense of your happiness. You should be married, having babies, you should—"

"Quit being the martyr, sir. I love my job. As long as you're in my life I am happy.

And someday when the 'safe bet' in my life is free and clear of his military duties I will get married and have babies."

"Oy!" Jack scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned.

"Too much?" She snatched her lower lip with her teeth.

"No, no. . ." He gave a smile of reassurance. "Just I'm usually the one pushing the envelope between us, Carter."

"Well then," she smiled smugly. "Toss me a bone?"

"A bone you say?" He waggled his brows suggestively and glanced below his waist.

"I'm serious." She groused.

"Me too, Samantha." His grin flat lined.

"Samantha," she said hopefully and met his tender gaze. Tears welled.

Jack glanced at his watch, then dropped his jacket into the recliner and sat back on the sofa. "C'mere." He extended his arms.

Sam hesitated before she settled into his possessive hold. When Jack fingered her blond bangs, she shuddered from his touch. "So what's going to happen with us, Jack?"

"Whatcha want to happen?" He lifted his head and curled his lips upward. "I mean besides me throwing you on the floor and having my way with you."

She laughed softly and then, "I want this intergalactic war to end and for us to be more than we are allowed to be," Sam honestly answered. "I don't want to be on constant guard when we're on or off duty. Living our lives separately when we're on downtime, and you going fishing without me. Let alone, that the NID clocks our every move, taps our phones, reads our mail."

Jack cradled her face and looked at her lovingly. "And ya don't think I'm sick and tired of this horse play, or how often your first name warms my lips before I catch myself and call you, Carter or Major? How often I have to avert my gaze from you for fear someone will notice that I care a lot more than I'm supposed to? Afraid one of us will bite the bullet before I get a chance to make wild passionate love to you? Well, I do, Sam, I think about it all the fricking time. And how I fear to say, Goodnight, my someone, goodnight . . . for the last time."

"Whoa!" Sam laughed softly, "I think you've said more tonight than in all the years I've known you."

"Too much?"

"Never."

"Hey, I may not be the most affluent at expressing myself but with you well, it's important that I try." He winced.

"Fluent," she corrected with an exasperated look.

"Whatever."

"This comes from the man who aced the MSNA test and stuffed his invitation to join the international organization in his underwear drawer."

"Who squealed?"

"Daniel."

"Just what was that meddling rock kisser doing in my drawers? Wait don't answer that! I'll dig it out of him myself." Jack made a rude gesture.

"Fine, but I so want to watch." Sam snorted, and then turned solemn. "Jack, what if General Hammond finds us out?"

"Oh, hell, George isn't blind, we had the talk after you played host to Jolinar. Apparently, when we thought we'd lost you, I got too emotional for Fraiser's comfort and she expressed her concerns to Hammond."

Sam coughed.

"Hey," Jack patted her shoulders. "It went a lot better than the conversation I had with good old dad."

Sam coughed harder.

Jack pounded harder.

"Stop!" Sam pulled back. "You—you talked to my father?"

"More like, he talked at me." Jack cleared his throat and looked away. "Somehow, I don't think he swallowed my pleading the fifth or my adamant denial that we are more than coworkers and friends. Long story short, he and Selmak threatened to disembowel me if I ever hurt you or your career."

"He—they would." She grinned. "And when did this happen?"

"Oh, after we rescued him from Ne'tu and we're flying home to Oz. If you recall, after Selmak healed Jacob you were exhausted and fell asleep on my shoulder."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"I'd never do that with dad around."

"Well, you did and I enjoyed it as usual." He waggled his brows.

"So, why'd the innocent act of resting my head on my CO's shoulder make dad think we are involved?"

"Well, besides all the crates you could have used for a bed or that Daniel and Teal'c also have comfortable shoulders." He coughed into his hand. "Not that I've personally tried them mind you. And don't get me started on how often Marty's hit on you. He's just lucky I haven't knocked his lights out—"

"Colonel." She glowered with impatience.

"Okay, fine." Jack blew out his mouth and looked away. "Maybe, possibly, perhaps I talked in my sleep," He glanced at her and winced. "A wee little bit."

"You didn't?"

"You doubt me?"

"You never talk in your sleep, sir."

"Apparently I did that time. Musta been the dehydration."

"What'd you say?"

"Don't know. But bad enough for Jacob to roughly awaken me drag me to the bridge and chew my butt out until it bled."

"Just great. Why hasn't he said anything to me?"

"Because I asked him not too. I assured Jacob that you are above board and that I'm the one with the attachment disorder, not you."

"Oh, Jack you didn't?"

"No big deal. I suspect he knows it's a mutual attachment thingy. Hey, he still lets me call him Dad. Guess I'm growing on him." He grinned.

"He does like you, sir."

"And I like him, but I like you a lot more, Carter."

She blushed. "So need I fear what General Hammond said?"

"Let's just say that despite the military ass reaming I got the message. And yet," he smiled.

"What?"

"George is old school. If we act on our feelings the Air Force can court martial us, but regs can't control how we feel about each other. He and I talked a lot off record. He'll protect us as long as possible. Let's just say he'd prefer we weren't working together, but because of SG-1's success, he's not about to separate the team. He believes that our mutual feelings are an asset to the SGC. Far as the general's concerned, what he doesn't see or hear doesn't exist. Basically, we're to do our jobs and no hanky panky on or off base."

"So what's this considered, sir?" Sam gestured between them.

"Teammate interaction?" he ventured. "Actually, he doesn't know and you darn well know that."

"Yes, sir, I know."

She flicked her tongue across her bottom lip and Jack felt the overwhelming temptation to kiss her. This too shall pass he told himself for the millionth time. "George respects us, Carter, and that's a perk."

"His respect means a lot to me too. Which means you really should go home now, sir." She teasingly attempted to shove him off the sofa, but he didn't budge.

"Yeah, guess so." Jack yawned wide and shut his tired eyes. "Um, just give me a minute, huh?"

"Okay." Sam snuggled into his secure warm embrace. "A few more minutes . . ." she linked her arm under his and pillowed her head on his left shoulder.

"Hey, Carter, you broke a record ya know."

"Um, how?" She patted a hand over her open mouth.

"No doohickeys or techno babble the last two hours."

"Funny." She stifled another yawn.

"Yeah, funny." Jack secured the blue afghan around them and relaxed his weary head against the back of her leather sofa.

"This . . . is nice, sir." Sam mumbled then snored softly.

Just before he dozed off, Jack cranked open an eyelid and glanced at the sleeping beauty in his arms, the woman he loved beyond worlds and alternate universes. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her crown of gold and whispered, "Goodnight my, Samantha, goodnight."

The End . . . Mayhap . . .