For Keeps by Su Freund

For Keeps

The atmosphere in the large room was oppressive. Jack so hated this kind of thing. He couldn't breath and very much wanted to reach up and loosen his necktie, but one couldn't do that at such an occasion. His medals weighed heavily on him. Who needed it? Didn't he have enough decoration to last him a lifetime? Now he had another one. He wondered how far they'd all stretch if he placed them end to end and was amused by that slightly childish notion.

One could easily be misled into thinking that Jack wasn't proud of his achievements and their recognition by the powers that be. That wasn't true; he was very proud of what he did, the Air Force, and the medals. Jack, however, was a self-effacing kind of man and was less happy with the attention placed on him by all of that medal giving. He never had been one to like a fuss.

Trying his best to plaster a smile on his face, he surveyed the room for the nth time, trying to spot someone else worth talking too. Sure, he'd done the rounds and made nice with people. Someone in his position had to; it came with the territory. So far he hadn't found a soul who seemed worth the time and effort but now he was in DC he had to make that effort in a way he never had before. It was all about politics, all glad handling and fake smiles and then stabbing folks in the back. Sheesh!

He wished George Hammond were there. That was a man worthy of attention and Jack had a lot of time for him. But his ex-CO wasn’t there, which was somewhat disappointing.

Jack had to admit that his presence had caused a bit of a stir with some of the women folk, which was flattering and made him preen. He'd overheard two women whispering about how handsome he looked in the full dress blues "and with all those medals too!" One of them had called him a silver haired fox. He figured maybe the grey wasn't so bad after all.

The woman was an attractive brunette who kept making eyes at him at every opportunity. So far he had resisted the temptation to pick her up, chat her up and then take her home, which he figured he could do if he tried. He wondered if their voices had been deliberately raised enough for him to hear, in the hope he would make an advance.

Jack had faced similar circumstances many times since he'd moved to DC. Some women simply adore a man in uniform, and the rank and the medals didn't hurt either. Once they found out he was a single man Jack became a target but, to date, he'd managed to make it a moving one. Pissing in your own pond could be a dangerous game and he didn't particularly want to play. Besides, he hadn't met anyone that he wanted to play with yet.

Personally, he found the dress blues chafing. Why the heck had he ever joined an organisation that made life so darned uncomfortable for its employees? He must be a glutton for punishment. Jack was dying to slip into something more relaxing, but this party was an obligation. A two star General had certain responsibilities and he couldn't afford to miss this occasion. Besides, this time he was one of the stars of the show.

None of his real friends were there, and that kind of saddened him. It was probably his own fault as they might have come, if he'd actually ensured they'd known about it, but there had been some kind of miscommunication about that. So, he was stuck in a room full of virtual strangers with the need to be polite and suffer the congratulations and back patting from people who hardly knew him.

Jack was wondering how quickly he could get out of there and go home without it being noticed and, as he wasn't the only guest of honor, figured he could sneak away relatively soon. Then he spotted her across the room and wondered how he'd missed her before. Surely he would have noticed her earlier. Had she only just arrived? He couldn't quite believe he'd missed her presence. Normally he simply sensed her, but not this time.

Sam never had been able to sneak up on him. He knew her scent intimately, the tread of her foot, the whisper of her shadow. What the heck was she doing there? How had she known? It was unexpected and his heart quickened at the sight. A friendly face; her friendly face. Cool!

As he tried to make his way over to her through the crowd, he got buttonholed yet again. Freeing himself at last, he noticed that she was engrossed in conversation with a handsome young Major and a felt a pang of envy. After the longest while he wondered if he should give up the pursuit as every time he tried to approach he was interrupted, or she was.

The final straw was the brunette. She gave up waiting for him to make a move and made her own. Jack had to admit she was pretty alluring but he had his eye on the beautiful blonde who had won his heart many years before. However, he didn't want to insult the brunette by brushing her off too quickly. Jack wasn't a man who could be deliberately hurtful in that way.

As he talked to the brunette Sam watched out of the corner of her eye with a spark of jealousy. She'd been trying to reach him for a while now, only to be thwarted at every turn. She knew he wasn't expecting her to be there and her presence would be a surprise. She just hoped she wasn't cramping his style.

Looking at him flirting animatedly with the brunette, she realised that was entirely possible and felt a regretful, slightly resentful twinge. She could see that the brunette would welcome Jack into her bed at the drop of a hat. And why wouldn't she? The man was infuriatingly, frustratingly hot without even realising it most of the time, as well as single, good-looking and a genuine hero. This led her to wonder how occupied Jack’s bed had been since he'd moved to DC. Sam didn't like that notion one little bit, but it was none of her business. She wished that it were.

He looked so handsome in full dress blues with all those medals signifying the many courageous moments of his life in the USAF. Jack was a brave man and his superiors hadn't overlooked that fact. Sometimes he could be exasperating, and she was betting that he'd probably ruffled a few feathers since his arrival in DC, but no one could deny he had a brilliant service record and had risked his life many times for individuals, his country and the whole planet. Of course most of the people in this room didn’t know about the latter, and probably never would.

She recalled their first meeting at the SGC. Back then he'd had very few grey hairs and over the years it had turned through various shades of salt and pepper until it was almost entirely grey. It suited him and Sam found it sexy. Right at that moment she would have given her right arm to be running her fingers of her left one through those short grey hairs. Oh boy!

Sam had seen pictures of him when he'd been a far younger man and he'd been breathtakingly stunning. Long and lean, but muscular, with expressive dark and deep brown eyes that caught your attention, finely chiselled cheekbones that gave him a statuesque look, and a radiant and captivating smile. He might have greyed, cultivated a few lines, and be a little less lean, but the fundamentals were still there. With building blocks like Jack had, it was hard to go wrong. He was gorgeous; there was no doubt about that.

Sure he'd aged a lot, but Sam still believed him to be the most handsome and sexy man she'd ever met. Each line on his face had been earned. He'd paid a heavy price for his dogged courage and merited every one of those medals he wore. He'd got very little else for his pains and deserved a whole lot more.

Sam hoped she had the courage to reward him appropriately. Would he welcome that? Would he consider her a sufficient reward for services rendered to his country?

So many times this man had come close to death to save them, sometimes he actually had died and been resurrected. He’d suffered imprisonment, pain, and unimaginable torture. He also suffered loss: great loss, including a loss that no man should be made to suffer, that of his son.

Sam hadn’t been aware that this latest injury still plagued him. Jack was walking with a slight limp and a cane. It made him look more handsome, distinguished and sexy than ever. She knew he’d sustained the injury on a recent, and very secret, mission. Sam couldn’t imagine the kind of mission they might send a two star General on, but the rumour mill was rife with speculation.

She figured that no one would ever know for sure but the buzz around the SGC indicated that he had saved the planet yet again and, more specifically, the life of the President of the United States, amongst others. Certainly he hadn’t gone through the gate to accomplish this mission, they would have known, and she was curious about whether it had been off world or right there on Planet Earth, but realised she would probably never find out even if she asked him, which she wouldn't.

It was frustrating to be so blissfully unaware of the life he now led. All she knew for sure was that Jack was a hero, but she knew that already because he’d proved it many times.

Sam recognized that giving herself to him was an entirely insufficient reward for everything he had done. Nothing and no one could compensate him for what he had suffered. Without him, this planet would have been conquered or enslaved. Without him, she wouldn't be the person she was today. Without him she would have been dead a few times over. Without him, frankly, life was unimaginable.

He had earned way more than she could ever hope to pay, but she wanted to give herself to him anyway because, even if he didn't want that, she did. There was only one way to find out.

This was one of the main reasons she was there. He'd failed to make any move since he'd left for DC and she had decided to do it for him. One way or another, by the end of tonight she would know for sure. In that she was single-minded. Jack was hers tonight or all was lost. If it turned out to be the latter, Sam didn’t know what she would do.

He looked so damned hot right now that she wanted to seduce him on the spot. Understanding entirely what the brunette saw in him, Sam thought she would die if Jack took the woman up on her all too obvious offer. Having made up her mind to go for broke at last it would be agonisingly ironic if, after all these years, he went for someone else. Sam had believed he wanted her, despite that he’d not made the ultimate move. Now she was doubtful, unsure he’d even realised that she was there.

Just one small part of him was all she needed. Tonight! Please god, it had been too long. Her yearning turned to frustrated desire and a small shiver of anticipation shot through her crotch. Her pants were getting a little dampened by her thoughts. That could be embarrassing.

'God, help me!' she exclaimed to herself. 'Air, I need some air!'

Having declined the brunette’s advances in the most polite and charming way possible, Jack’s eyes scanned the room for Sam. He couldn’t see her and an almost overwhelming sense of panic overtook him. Had she left without even saying hello? Air, he needed air! Making his way towards an exit, he thought that no one would miss him for a while.

When he got outside Jack loosened his tie a little and took in some deep breaths. Washington air wasn’t exactly fresh but it beat what was inside that room – mainly hot air, he reflected sarcastically.

'Get some air and then go back inside and see if she really had gone,' he thought.

It was then that he heard a screech and recognised her voice.

"Carter!" he called, but could see nothing and headed in the direction from which it had come. He was surprised at how few people there were out on the street. It was icily cold and he figured that explained it, but this was Washington DC, the nation's capital. Streets are never this empty in a capital city. It was a little surreal.

He spotted them as soon as he turned into the side street. The man was waving a knife at her and, when he saw Jack, grabbed Sam and held the offending object close to her throat. Jack's heart lurched at the notion of Sam in danger, and he approached cautiously, trying to look a lot less threatening than he actually felt and deliberately making his limp look way worse because he might be able to use that to his advantage.

The man had her pinned tight. Despite that, Jack realised it was possible that Sam might extricate herself from this situation but he was taking no chances.

"Back off grandpa and mind your own business," her attacker threatened, "You might get hurt."

Sam noticed Jack's eyebrows rise in surprise at the insult. His eyes shone with fury and his fist clenched tightly around his cane. He was starting to look dangerous.

"Grandpa?" Jack queried, "Son you'd better let her go right now before I do you some serious damage."

The young man laughed disbelievingly and Sam figured he couldn't have looked into Jack's eyes or he would have been out of there. But the distraction caused him to loosen his grip a little, and her eyes signalled Jack as she pushed home the slight advantage by kicking the heel of her shoe into his shin.

As her attacker yelped, Jack dropped his stick and readied to pounce. Sam broke free and Jack moved towards him, but the man was not so easily deterred and swished his knife through the air at him in a threatening manner.

"Give it your best shot," Jack said, adroitly dodging his knife wielding parries, "make my day."

"Who do you think you are, Clint Eastwood?" the younger man scoffed.

"No, he's just an actor. I'm the real thing. So go for it, please. Pretty please?" Jack smirked.

"Jack, be careful!" Sam pleaded worried that Jack might get hurt. After all, the man was using a cane so obviously wasn't in peak physical condition. Jack's taunts tended to bring him trouble, she knew that from experience, but he didn't seem able to stop himself from making them.

It seemed that Jack wanted to play the hero. Her ex-CO knew very well that Sam was an expert in hand to hand combat so it was probable that she could take this man on and win although, surprised and frightened by the attack, Sam herself wasn't feeling that confident. Jack, however, simply had to be the knight in shining armour. It was an engaging trait and Sam was content to be the damsel in distress - particularly if it gave him some pleasure: especially tonight.

"Don't worry, Carter, I can handle a punk like him," said Jack, never removing his eyes from his opponent. "There's still some life in this old dog."

The young man then looked into those eyes and, having done so, knew fear because he saw the killer lurking there. Panicking, he lunged with the knife and Jack jumped out of the way with apparent ease, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it hard so that he dropped the weapon. As it clattered to the ground, Jack punched the man in the stomach, forcing him to the ground and then bending his wrist still further. Sam heard a crack and her would be attacker screamed with pain. Jack had broken his wrist.

"Grandpa, huh?" Jack mocked.

"Please don't hurt me anymore mister," the man begged with a whimper.

"That's General to you." He turned towards Sam. "Carter? You okay?" When she nodded he continued, "Call 911. On second thoughts, we'll be talking to cops half the night if we do that. Maybe we should deal with this ourselves."

He looked back down at the young man, who was clearly terrified by that idea. Sam couldn't blame him and figured he'd probably prefer to deal with the police than a dark angel of vengeance like Jack O'Neill.

"Please mister, general, sir… I'll do anything you want."

Jack placed his foot on the man's chest close to his throat, pressing down firmly, and the man's eyes widened fear as he contemplated what might be done to him.

"You aren't worth the effort," Jack spat, "So this time I'm givin' you a get out of jail free card. But if I ever see you around here again you are so gonna regret it. Now get outta here!"

The man pushed himself up with his good arm, obviously in agony, and ran away so quickly that he was out of sight in seconds. Jack moved towards Sam but winced with pain.

"Crap! Ouch!"

"Sir, are you alright?" asked Sam, rushing to Jack's side with concern.

"I don't think my physiotherapist had that kind of exercise in mind."

"Let me help you."

"I'm fine," he insisted, waving her off, "just hand me the stick."

She walked over and picked up his cane, handing it to him.

"We probably should have called the police," she said.

"Probably, but I think he got the point."

"You broke his wrist."

"I know, and he might have slit your throat. Are you really okay, Sam?"

Jack reached over and smoothed her cheek affectionately and Sam's heart lurched dramatically. She smiled, placing her hand over his and pressing it to her face and they stared into each other's eyes silently for a while before she answered.

"I'm good, sir. Thank you for rescuing me. My hero!" she said with a cheeky grin.

"Ack! You probably could have rescued yourself Carter," he replied dismissively.

"Maybe, maybe not. To be honest, I was scared. I sure was glad to see you turn up. Were you leaving the party?"

"Just getting some air, Carter. So, this is a surprise. Whatchya doing here?

"Oh, just visiting. A little bird told me you were getting a new brand new medal to add to your vast collection."

"Really?" The smile on his face belied the shrug of his shoulders. "It was good of you to come."

Realising that they still stood transfixed by each other's eyes, her hand held over his on her cheek, Jack began to feel a little self-conscious and pulled away, dropping his hand to his side and shifting his gaze to his feet. Sam tried to suppress her disappointment. She'd thought they were having a moment. Was she wrong?

"It's a little chilly," he declared, "maybe we should get back inside."

She nodded acquiescence and tried to help him as he limped back towards the party.

"I'm okay, Sam, really," he said, shrugging her off.

As he moved, she hovered around him to ensure he was genuinely all right, ready to help should he stumble. It angered Jack who was hopeless at accepting help and was pretty sure that the cane made him look like the grandpa her attacker had believed him to be, which was the last thing he wanted or needed to feel around this woman. He wanted her to believe him to be the virile and agile man he once had been and wondered if those days had now passed him by.

"Stop hovering! I told you I'm fine! I might have a stick but I'm not an old man!" he snapped grumpily.

"So I can see," she replied, defiant of his ire, "more like an overgrown kid."

"Hey, Colonel…" he started reproachfully.

"Don't give me that crap. Screw you!"

"What?" He was shocked.

"Sorry. Screw you, sir!"

"Carter? What the hell's gotten into you?"

"You have."

Jack stopped walking, motionlessly standing there for what appeared to Sam to be a long time. Her heart thumped erratically while she waited for a reaction, any reaction, and then he finally turned to face her.

"I don't know what that means," he said.

"Yes you do."

Impulsively, she kissed him and Jack reacted with shock at first and then grasped her head and clashed with her exploring tongue in his mouth. She tasted so sweet and what started as something relatively chaste and oddly uncomfortable quickly turned to passion and longing, making his body tingle with desire.

"What was that?" he asked with a breathless croak as their mouths parted a few moments later.

“I’m tired of waiting, sir. It’s now or never.”

"Whoa! Carter!" he exclaimed with astonishment.

"Sam, Jack. My name is Sam."

Jack merely stared at her open-mouthed and said nothing, clearly astounded by her words and attitude. When he failed to say anything, or act, she virtually threw herself at him, careless of the consequences. She had a purpose and intended to pursue that to its end.

Taking him into her arms, she kissed him again, one hand placed behind his head, running her fingers through his hair as she had yearned to do, while the other sought the bare skin of his back under his jacket and shirt. He was so stunned that he didn't know quite how to react.

"This is 'conduct unbecoming' right out here on the street," he said as her lips parted from his.

"Is that it? Is that your reaction?" she retorted with anger. "I throw myself at you and that's all you can think about? I want-I want… damn you Jack O'Neill! I came here because I want you in my life, in my bed. We can play this however you want: a one night stand and forget about it tomorrow, lock it all up in that room forever, or we can play it for keeps. You choose. I want you Jack, tonight, right here, right now, whatever and however. I have an itch to scratch, have done for years, and it's time I scratched it. Don't you get it? So if you don't want that, just say the word and I'm out of here. That's what I came for, Jack -you!"

Watching him closely as she spoke, she saw the jaw dropping with disbelief, the stunned look of amazement at her behaviour, the shock. What she couldn't see was what he wanted, whether he wanted her too or whether she had pushed too far too fast. Inside her head she was screaming for him not to reject her. She'd flung herself at him and if he said no she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.

"Or maybe you made an arrangement to see that cute brunette, later, is that it?" she added with considerable ire, tears of frustration forming in her eyes but going nowhere.

"No, I always preferred blondes," he replied, pulling himself together at last. "One blonde in particular," he added meaningfully.

Sam nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her boiling emotions. She couldn't quite believe what she had said to him, how forward she had been; it wasn't like her, but she was so incredibly horny and couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like that, or even if she ever had. Her heart was hammering like crazy, thoughts of what Jack might be thinking spinning through her head. Too late. Deal with the now and face the consequences later.

"I'm staying at a hotel a couple of blocks away," she said as calmly as she could muster.

"Then I guess we'd better pick up our coats and go back there, huh?"

Jack's thoughts were also tumultuous. Shaken as he was by her behaviour, he was not going to pass up this chance to bed Sam if that was what she wanted. If she then needed to lock it all back up again, he wouldn't argue, although he wasn't happy with the notion that this was all about sex. He wanted more, but had always been reluctant to make that move to insinuate himself into her life. She could do way better than a weary old cynic like him but who was he to argue with what she wanted?

'Cross that bridge…' he thought as they picked up their coats, 'Life's too short. Take each day as it comes, Jack. You might not get this chance again.'

As they wordlessly made their way to her hotel, he did nothing more than place his hand on the small of her back, something he had done probably hundreds of times over the years. That gesture had been one of the few ways he'd had of communicating his special feelings for her, and it seemed that it still was.

Once they were inside her room, she discarded her coat and pinned him against the door, becoming almost feral, with hands everywhere: caressing, tearing, and scratching. Then her mouth: kissing, biting, licking. Small moans and sighs came from that mouth and her eyes held a wanton expression. Jack was more than a little taken aback by such behaviour from this frequently overly self-controlled woman.

"I want you to screw me, Jack!" she declared determinedly.

"Jeez Sam…"

"Surprised?" she queried breathily.

"To put it mildly."

"Just let go, Jack. Just…"

His mouth covered hers as he decided to take her advice and they writhed in each other's arms, ferociously exchanging kiss for kiss, bite for bite, and frantic caress for frantic caress.

Grasping her roughly, he turned the tables and forcefully threw her against the door, ripping the buttons from her shirt to gain access to her breasts and then stripping her as much as he could. Her skirt and pants pooled at her feet, slightly tattered and worse for wear.

Unzipping his fly, Jack allowed his pants to follow her clothing to the floor and, grabbing her ass with one hand, pulled her hips towards him. His forceful roughness was an indication of just how badly wanted her; so badly that he almost lost control.

He could have taken her and broken her, and she would have meekly let him. It seemed that at that moment she would have let him do anything, but it wasn't what he really wanted. So, with almost icy control he pulled back, taking hold of her chin, turning her face and forcing her eyes to meet his.

"You want to screw?" he asked, "I could screw you senseless and then we could forget about it tomorrow, but is that all you really want, Colonel, a quick screw? Or do you want me to make love to you?"

"I want whatever you want, Jack," she replied and he could see water welling up in her eyes.

"No, Sam, that isn't good enough! You're a way stronger woman than that. That's why I love you so much."

"L-love me?" she stammered, taken aback by his declaration.

"God, woman, what do you think I've been feeling for all of these years? It's never just been about sex and unrequited sexual tension. There was always more to it than that. Don't you know it? Don't you feel it?"

She could see how hard it was for him to control the urge to screw her and be done with it. He was fighting hard against what his body was longing for him to do. It seemed he'd thrown the ball back into her court.

"Make love to me, Jack," she said in response, allowing a small tear to fall down her cheek, "I want so much for you to make love to me. It's what I've always wanted." Burying her face in his neck, she sobbed quietly and Jack pulled her close, softly caressing her back comfortingly.

"Please don't cry Sam," he whispered.

"Christ, Jack, what was I thinking? What must you be thinking? I feel so ashamed." Her cheeks were hot, and reddened by tears and embarrassment.

"Ashamed? You've got nothing to be ashamed of," he said, tenderly placing his arm around her and leading her to the bed, and then urging her to sit down. Taking a hand in his, Jack held it to his lips and kissed it affectionately, urging her to lie down and then, joining her, he started to kiss away the tears she had shed.

"So much for being strong, huh?" she whispered.

"You're one of the strongest people I know, Sam, and one of the best."

Gently and lovingly, he started to seduce her, exploring her body with his mouth and fingers. Starting at her face, he worked down to her chest and shoulders, around her breasts and then back again, finally placing his mouth on hers and delving inside.

She was whimpering with desire for his lovemaking, allowing him to lead wherever it took them, but also wanting to play her own part and, as her hands caressed him, he sighed and groaned, teeth biting on his bottom lip and sweat glistening on his brow and face. He burned searing hot against her naked flesh and Sam gulped with longing, thinking she had never seen him look more handsome and sexy.

Jack's thoughts mirrored her own as he watched her face, filled with wanton desire, and never more beautiful. His kiss was full of eager promise, as his tongue dipped between her lips and brushed over her teeth and gums.

He broke off the kiss and breathed softly into her ear, inserting his tongue, which made her cry out his name and shudder with pleasure, and then he moved away, removing his hand, and she keenly felt the loss until she discerned his intentions and moaned with hunger for what he had in mind.

"Oh, Jack," she whispered throatily, looking into his eyes. The depth of feeling she saw in those dark pools was startling.

Their physical joining was about so much more than merely sex, and the pleasure it gave them. It was the culmination of a lengthy, mainly unvoiced and totally forbidden courtship that had started as only a whisper on the day they'd first met and slowly grown in strength to become an almighty roar.

"Holy mother of god!" he exclaimed, looking into her eyes at last. Moving to lie by her side, Jack nestled into her neck and their arms and legs entwined around each other contentedly. "Beautiful, Sam, you're so beautiful."

She squeezed him tenderly, filled with deep satisfaction and an overpowering sense of joy.

"No, Jack, that was beautiful," she said, referring to his lovemaking. "So, so wonderful."

Her hand reached to cup his cheek and then she stroked it softly with her fingertips. When she looked into his eyes, they were watery with emotion and that astounded her.

"I love you," she declared at last and his heart skipped a beat. Sam could sense the internal struggle as he fought to keep his emotions in check. "I love you so very much. No reservations or doubts, I simply love you and I think that I always will."

Jack said nothing for a while as he continued to fight himself for control. Her declaration brought him teetering close to being consumed by the intensity of his feelings and he couldn't allow that to happen. It simply wasn't Jack O'Neill.

"You got what you wanted tonight, Sam, and so did I. I wanted it for a long time too. More than just sex. Way, way more. This isn't a game; it's for keeps."

"For keeps? I really like the sound of that."

She kissed him tenderly and then they got under the bed covers and she snuggled back into his arms. Life had taken a steep climb upwards. She was looking forward to the rest of the journey and, so it seemed, was Jack. For the first time in many years, both of them were truly happy. They'd made it and would be together from now on - for keeps.

***************
TE