Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were

A/note: I'M SORRY I'M LATE! My internet went kaboom and I cried because I wasn't able to update! (Seriously, I did.) The kiss is here! And a little something else. Nothing dirty, you know me. Please be patient. It starts out slow, but the ending is pretty specky. DO NOT SKIP! You'll get a smack if you do. Enjoy!
*Just remember: This in unbetaed, so 'scuse the typos. And I'm Australian, so 'scuse the jargon, not that there is any (I think...), but I may have missed some small stuff.

~ SJ ~

Next Saturday

0840h

Bzz...

Bzz...

Sam's eyes fluttered open as her cell vibrated across the nightstand near her head.

Bzz...

She pulled her good arm out from the warmth of the puffy hotel blankets and slapped her hand on the irritating device. Sam rolled onto her back; eyes still closed and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Carter..." she groaned sleepily.

"Did you sleep in?" Jack's enthused voice graced her ears. She smiled. He had called every day this week. Why would Saturday be any different?

"First time for everything." she heard his little chuckle on the other end of the line.

Their correspondences were mostly born from the need to talk about what had happened on the planet. Not their little encounter, oh no. She knew he was still having nightmares, as he knew that she was. When one woke up in a cold sweat, they called the other. Usually in the early hours of the morning.

"Yeah, that's true. So what's on the agenda today?" He asked casually. She wondered if this phone call had a purpose.

"Dress shopping. I need a gown to cover the bandage on my ankle, and so I can get away with flats." feeling more awake, she kicked the blankets off and sat up against the headboard. Maybe he was calling to cancel? "What colour should I look for?" She baited him.

"Not yellow." He answered immediately.

"Naturally." It was clash with her hair.

"Perridot?" She could almost hear his boyish grin.

"I wear green to work. I'm not wearing it on a night out." She rebutted. Sure, it would be light green, but there was only so much green a woman could handle.

"Surprise me then."

"That means no blue."

"It matches your eyes."

"Thus the cliché."

"Good point."

She grinned at their banter and decided it was time to get out of bed. Manoeuvring the phone between her ear and shoulder, Sam dug through her small suitcase for her towel and toiletry bag.

"Sir, not that I mind but was there a specific reason you called?" She trundled into the bathroom, flicking the light switch on with her elbow.

"Not really. Why, did you think I was gonna bail on you?"

"It crossed my mind." She admitted, turning the cold water on in the bath. It was easier than showering with her cast, and far more relaxing.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." He assured her.

"But you would for General Hammond?" She teased. His silence stilled her hand on the other tap.

"Um... Yeah. I'm sorry Carter. This meeting with Hammond couldn't really be moved. I'll tell you about it tonight. What time are you going to get there?"

"It's only fifteen minutes up the road. I'll probably leave here a bit before seven." She turned on the hot water and swirled the water around the tub.

"Alright then. One last thing Carter, because I've got a briefing in a couple of minutes; how formal is this thing?"

"I'm wearing a gown, Sir... You wouldn't look out of place in a suit."

"Hmm... Okay, I can manage that. I'll have to dig through the bottom of my closet, but I'll work something out." He joked. At least, Sam hoped he was joking.

"I'll see you there then."

"Absolutely. Bye, Carter."

"Bye, Sir." She smiled as she hung up, though she wasn't sure why.

Sam spent the day walking around Lakewood, searching shop after shop for the right gown. It was one o'clock in the afternoon when she found it on display of a boutique on the outskirts of town. She stopped in her tracks at the window when she saw it.

It was like woven air. A beautiful peachy orange, full-length gown made of a soft, light material with wide off-the-shoulder straps and a plunging neckline. It even had a matching shawl, which looked equally as delicate, and would be excellent to hide her cast arm and faintly bruised back and shoulder.

Sam went straight inside and bought the dress. All one hundred and fifty nine dollars of it.

~ SJ ~

Later that evening

Getting into the damn thing was a lot more difficult than buying it.

Sam flopped back on her bed after her ten minute struggle to zip the back of the gown up. Who knew dressing was such a strenuous sport? She puffed her cheeks and let out a long, deep breath. Okay, dress down, only shoes and hair to go. Easy. Sam sat up again, pushing an errand bang from his face. Luckily, the material was a big stretchy and fit surprisingly well. She nodded, preparing herself for her next challenge: putting her shoes on. She'd gotten through the hard part, the rest only got easier.

She threw her body forwards, leaning down to collect her black flats from under the bed. The first shoe was a breeze, the second... not quite. The bandage around her ankle made for a tight squeeze, but she managed.

Behind her, the phone rang loudly, startling her almost off the bed. Sam leaned across the bed to the nightstand and picked up the handset.

"Hello." Sam answered, curious who would be calling the hotel phone rather than her cell

"Good evening Ms Carter, this is jade from reception. We have a gentleman waiting to see you down in the lobby." The receptionist replied in her pleasant tone.

"Oh! Okay, please let him know I'll be right down." Sam's eyebrows jumped. Had Jack arrived early? Why didn't he call?

"Of course Ma'am." The receptionist hung up. Sam lay on her bed, still staring at the phone in her hand. The only way she would get any answers would be to go downstairs. Sam sprang off the bed and ducked into the bathroom. Her hair had decided to play the game today, and only needed a quick brush through and a touch of hairspray. You can't do much with short hair.

She snatched her shawl and purse and dived out the door. Another bonus to this dress: it was easy to move in. She waited – not so patiently – for the elevator to arrive on her floor and practically jumped in when the doors opened.

"Okay Sam, calm down." She warned herself. No need to get flustered. Could this damn thing be any slower?

4,3,2,1, ground floor. Sam had to stop herself from holding her breath as she waited for the doors to open. The doors parted and Sam's anticipation collapsed like a bucket of brass*. A man in a suit waited in the lobby, but it wasn't Jack. As soon as he saw her, he began walking her way.

She stepped out of the elevator and gave the young man a scrutinising glare. He was probably in his early thirties, red hair, stocky build and plain features. He had a Bluetooth headset in his ear and a well knotted black tie.

"Ms Sam Carter?" He asked politely. Sam forced a smile.

"Yes. That's me."

"My name is Bruce; I'll be your driver for this evening." He gave her a friendly smile and a single nod of his head.

"D-Driver?" Sam stumbled over her words. She had a driver?

"Yes Ma'am. Major General Jack O'Neill sends his apologies for being able to drive you himself." Bruce explained, and then opened a hand towards the main doors. Holy mother of Hannah. Well this was a surprise.

Sam walked with Bruce to the main entrance doors and opened one for her. Who said chivalry was dead? Sam thanked him and stepped out into the cool night air. She stopped in her tracks when she saw what was parked on the curb.

A stretch limousine.

Jack, you may just get lucky tonight.

Sam stared at the long, black (and very shiny) vehicle parked in front of the hotel. Well, it was much better than taking a cab. Bruce stepped past her and opened the door. He gave her an encouraging smile, one that told her that he knew she wasn't expecting this treat from the Air Force General.

Sam remembered to move and took a few hesitant steps to the limo.

"Have you been to Lakewood before Ma'am?" He asked casually when Sam stopped inside the door.

"Yes. I've been walking around it all day." A slight chuckle escaped her. This was incredible.

"Perhaps we can take the scenic route later; it's quite spectacular at night."

"I'd like that." Sam nodded cheerily and slid into the limo. Bruce shut the door and Sam was very tempted to actually stretch out along the seat. It wouldn't be difficult; the seats were real leather and she slipped across them easily.

The drive to the town hall was too short. Sam had discovered the mini fridge and was about to crack open an iced tea when Bruce pulled the limo over. Damn. She returned the bottle to the fridge and smoothed out her dress in her lap. She wouldn't dare touch her hair, in case she threw a piece out of place.

The door to her right opened and light filled the small space. She slid across the seat and accepted Bruce's hand to help her out of the vehicle.

"I'll be back at ten o'clock. Please give me a call if you wish to be picked up any earlier or later." Bruce handed her a business card, which she tucked into her purse and he shut the door behind her. Then she was alone.

Sam had to admit, but she felt a little apprehensive about her cast arm prior to entering the hall. Half of the room was filled with round tables, which were steadily being filled by over a hundred people. The other half of the room served as the dance floor, which held close to thirty dancing couples. Beyond them, at the very back, was a small orchestra. Wow, they went all out this year. An attendee found her as soon as she entered the hall and directed her to her seat.

Sam deposited her purse at her table, reserving the seat next to hers for Jack. She scanned the dancing crowd for any familiar faces, but finding none. As she was preparing to sit down, a familiar flash of silver caught her eye. The view was fleeting, but promising enough for her to walk out onto the dance floor.

Sam turned several heads as she weaved through the crowd, avidly searching for the silver-haired man. Alas, she found herself in the middle of the floor, looking around, but finding nothing. She allowed herself to sigh in disappointment. He wasn't here. She looked up at the orchestra and her eyes fell on the cellist. If only she could play. The Cello was her favourite instrument. It always made a beautiful sound. Perhaps one day, when she wasn't saving the world, she would learn how to play.

Resigning herself to waiting at the table, Sam turned around and began to walk back. After only two steps, she stopped.

There, standing right in front of her, in a midnight black tuxedo and his hands hidden in his pockets, was Jack. The tuxedo fit him very well and the silver of his hair was a magnificent contrast to the velvet of the suit, complimented by the mirror shine of his patent leather shoes. He even had had a haircut.

Hubba Hubba.

She completely drank in his appearance, as he seemed to do with hers. He took a few slow and confident steps towards her, slowly pulling his hands from his pockets, stopping close enough for her to smell his cologne. Oh gosh, he smells good too!

"You made it." She smiled brightly.

Before she knew what was happening, his hands came up to her cheeks and he stepped forwards, bring his lips to hers. Sam was quite sure she heard the little scream of the regulation guidelines flying out the window. She would have waved it goodbye if she wasn't so absorbed in the feel of Jack's lips on hers.

Well what do ya know... he tasted fantastic too.

On instinct, she lifted her arms and held his shoulder blades. His lips danced over hers tenderly, warm and affectionate in every way, and she could feel the hint of fire beneath it. She allowed him to deepen the kiss and he rubbed his thumbs across her cheek in thanks. Who cares if she was making a slight spectacle?

The room began to slowly spin and the music echoed in her mind. This was too much... and she wanted more. A lot more. Though they had been breathing through their noses, the need for oxygen won out (though they had put up a good fight). Jack pulled back, only slightly, leaving several feather-light pecks on her lips. Sam was quite sure she was about to melt into an orange, gooey puddle very soon.

He pulled back a little further, still caressing her cheeks and smiled warmly.

"Hello." He said quietly.

"Hi..." That was all she could come up with. Her brain was virtually vibrating from sensational overload. Jack smiled widely at her vague greeting, pulling her into his arms and placing both hands on the base of her back.

"I made it." He stated the obvious. Ten points to Jack.

"I noticed." She let her forehead fall to his shoulder. Wake up brain. Can't work with short sentences all night. "I'm glad the General didn't keep you."

"Yeah, about that..." Jack began to sway from left to right with the music. "I'm being promoted."

Sam's head came back up quickly.

"That's excellent! Congratulations." She smiled and Jack nearly went weak at the knees.

"Hammond is retiring." Jack put it as bluntly as possible.

"Really?" Sam was glad for George, he deserved it. Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms. "Then who is going to take his posting?" Jack didn't answer her. He just looked her in the eye and revelled in watching the gears turn in her head.

"Oh... so you'll..." She clicked.

"Be moving to Washington. As of Monday, I won't be your commanding Officer." He said as calmly as he could. It paid off and Sam rested her head back on his shoulder. He could almost feel the information swimming between his ears.

"Wow..." she said quietly enough for him to hear. "...we'll hardly see each other if you leave."

"Sam, I think you're missing the point. I won't be your CO anymore." He reiterated. After a moment, she lifted her head.

"We won't be in a direct chain of command." Well done Sam. Good to see the brain has recovered.

Jack lowered his chin and gave her a knowing – and devilishly sexy – smirk. Her heart skipped a beat. The world started to spin again as the implications sank in. All they had to do was hold out till Monday... how hard could it be? They'd done it for eight years. That melting-into-gooey-puddle sensation came over her again, and she was quite sure she was blushing from head to toe.

Jack pulled her to his chest and brought his lips to her ear.

"Guess what?" He whispered; bringing a hand up to cup the back of her neck gently.

"What?" She breathed back. Desire was starting to wash through her body, now that it was almost allowed to. She held him against her let her eyes close.

"I love you."

~ SJ ~

I'm done! I hope you guys liked it. I did not want them out of character, (but it was sooo hard!) and sincerely hope I didn't shame myself too badly. Thank you everyone for joining me on this marvellous journey. Stay tuned for my next story 'Sand and Sapphires', which will come out in the next few weeks. It's a bit more risqué than I usually do. Three words: Sam, undercover, burlesque.

*Brass bucket is a container that holds spent shells at a shooting range. The expression is similar to 'like a ton of bricks.'