Samantha Carter walked through her house carrying a cool glass of milk. She surveyed her evening’s endeavors as she moved from the kitchen to her bedroom. Earlier, in a fit of restlessness, she had gone on a cleaning spree.
She cleaned out the refrigerator, vacuumed, dusted, cleaned out two closets and even had energy to give the bathroom a thorough cleaning. Sam took pride in everything she did and keeping her home in top condition was no exception. Looking at the gleaming tile and sparkling porcelain, she nodded with approval.
"Good enough to withstand a General’s inspection,"
Walking into her bedroom, she put the glass of milk on her bedside table and moved to turned down the comforter on her bed. Her hands lingered on the softness of the fresh linen sheets. Only a handful knew of her secret passion for things this luxurious. After all, she was female and her home and its décor made that statement loud and clear. Major Carter may be comfortable spending the night in a sleeping bag under the stars, this side of Samantha Carter loved satin and lace, perfumes and beautiful things. But, that side of her didn’t have the chance to surface much since joining the SGC. She had learned early in her career to hide the more feminine side of her personality in the male-dominated world she chose to work.
She absently removed her house slippers while opening the drawer of the night table. She pick up the TV remote and slid under the sheets. Fixing her pillows, she leaned back to watch some late night TV. Finding nothing to her liking, Sam soon tired of channel surfing and clicked off the TV. She tossed the remote back in the drawer and gave an audible sigh. Looking at the digital clock, she was surprised when it flashed the time of 9:37.
"Now, what?"
Knowing she wouldn’t get an answer she lay there looking at the room around her, then specially the bed itself. It had no less than seven pillows of various sizes and color, all coordinating with the sheets, comforter, drapes and wallpaper but the bed had never seemed so big and empty.
Sam lay back and tried without success to make herself comfortable. She tossed and turned, plumped the pillows this way and then that way. Not liking either she plumped them again. Nothing helped. In a fit of restless desperation, her hand went to the phone as if it had a mind of its own. She began a mental checklist of who she could call at this hour of the night. Janet?... No, she was taking Cassandra shopping first thing in the morning. Mark?... Better not bother him, might wake up his children.
Smiling, she began to enter the phone number of Daniel Jackson. She knew he would be cataloging artifacts at home brought in by SG-8. The phone rang three times on his end before he answered it.
"Hello, Daniel. This is Sam."
"Hi Sam, everything all right?"
"Sure, just can’t sleep and I had a feeling you would be awake. You were, weren’t you?"
"No, I wasn’t, sleeping that is. Been working one of the cups SG-8 brought back. There are some interesting inscriptions on it and I’m almost finished transcribing them."
***********
Suddenly realizing who he was talking to he looked at the receiver.
"What are you doing up at this time of night? You’re usually the first member of the team to bedded down before 9:00 when we are off world."
He heard her laugh on the other end. "I guess you know me to well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This evening, I did a week’s worth of cleaning in one evening thinking it would tire me, but it didn’t... Tried watching TV, but couldn’t get interested in anything, and I knew you would still be up working on those cups from P7X-340."
Not hearing any response, "Daniel? Daniel you still there?"
"Oh, sorry Sam. What did you just say? I was writing down..."
Before he could finish, Sam interrupted. "It’s O.K. Daniel, you go back to your transcribing. I‘ll talk to you later this weekend. Have a good night."
"You too, Sam," an absent-minded Daniel replied before he hung up the receiver.
Sam replaced the receiver back on her phone and lay back looking up at the ceiling.
***********
Daniel finished writing the translation he had been working on when Sam called.
"Oh man, Sam had wanted to talk and I had put her off. Hope she understood. Wonder what she wanted." Without giving it another thought he reached for his phone and dialed Jack O’Neill.
On the fourth ring Jack pushed himself up and reached for the phone. "So much for bedding down early," he said under his breath.
"O’Neill"
"Hey, Jack. Sam called, is something up? You know anything going on?"
"Daniel, You have any ideal what time it is?"
"No, hang on let me check. It’s... 9:48."
Jack, trying to be patience in his semi-sleep state, continued.
"Yes, I know the time *Daniel*. What did you just say about Sam?"
"Ahh, she called a little bit ago and I was transcribing. I think something might be wrong. I was checking with you before I called her back."
Jack, now completely awake sat up in his bed.
"What time did she call you? Did she sound upset? What did she say?"
Daniel smiled as he heard Jack in rapid succession ask each of his questions. All thoughts of the artifacts laying on his desk where forgotten as a plan began to form in his mind. ‘This just might be what they need. A little ‘pillow talk’.
He carefully chose each word not lying, but not telling the absolute truth either. "Well, she called about twenty minutes ago and did sound a little strange. Something about a week’s worth of work in one night."
"What’s that woman trying to do to herself. Doesn’t she know this is our ‘down time’. She needs a keeper! Someone who will make her push that astro-techno stuff aside and learn to relax. Jeez, for that matter Daniel, you need one too. Go to bed! Those clay cups have been around thousands of years and couple more days aren’t going to matter."
"What, about Sam?"
"I am going to take care of Sam. You go to bed."
"O.K., talk to you later. Bye."
Standing, Daniel moved to turn off the his lights and head off to his own bed. He muttered as he climbed the stairs.
"I don’t need a keeper. You and Sam need a matchmaker with the patience of Job. Two of the smartest people I know, and both of you are deaf, dumb and blind to what is obvious to everyone else."
*************
The phone rang causing a dozing Samantha to jerk awake. On the third ring she picked up the phone.
"Hello."
"What’s wrong?"
"Colonel O’Neill?"
"Yes, it’s me. Daniel called and said you called him. He couldn’t tell if something was wrong."
"Sir, there’s nothing wrong. I just couldn’t sleep and felt like talking to someone. I knew Daniel would be awake cataloging those artifacts he received today. I’m sorry, Sir, he bothered you at this time of night."
Jack propped himself up with a pillow as he listened to her voice. It sounded different, softer... lighter. He decided immediately he liked it. "Listen to me carefully, Samantha, anytime you feel like talking no matter what time it is you can always call me."
"Samantha?" a surprised Sam asked.
"I knew that would get your attention faster than Major."
Sam smiled and set up to rearrange the pillows on her bed so she could listen more comfortably.
"It did. My mother always called me Samantha when she wanted to get my attention. Sometimes I miss hearing someone say it." Sam nervously continued. "Not, that I mind being called Sam."
"Funny, my mother does the same thing. She is about the only person who calls me Jonathan. Everyone else calls me, Jack. You can use it anytime you want by the way."
"Use what?" A confused Sam asked.
"Jack or Jonathan. Take your pick."
***********
A warm feeling traveled through Sam. Jack had never asked her to call him by his first name and now he had. She couldn’t help but smile at the receiver.
"I’ll chose Jack... for tonight. I’ll wait until another time to call you Jonathan."
Jack found himself smiling as she talked.
"Another, time? You must be going to save it for a special occasion."
Sam giggled lightly. "Anytime I talk with you like this is a special occasion."
Realizing what she had said she nervously continued. "What I mean..." But, before she could go on he quickly interrupted.
"I feel the same."
For the next few seconds there was dead air on the phone. Neither said a word.
Jack put a hand to his forehead. Way to go, O'Neill, she probably didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Stupid... Stupid Jerk, you really put your big ugly foot in your mouth.
Jack was it the throws of giving himself a good mental kick in the ass as he turned to place a hand on the cool pillow next to his.
Blood rushed to Sam’s face, causing her skin to flush a soft shade of red. With her free hand she touched her face. Feeling the heat she moved to look at the pillow opposite side her’s. She gently stroked it just inches from her own head. That was the most endearing statement he had ever said to her.
"Why thank you, kind sir."
Picking up on her teasing mood he shot back.
"Hey, none of that *Sir* stuff tonight, Me... Jack, You... Sam, remember."
"I’ll make a note of that."
"Now tell me why you really couldn’t get to sleep."
For the next hour and half hour they talked. Really talked, about everything and anything. They laughed and flirted outrageously. It was the best conversation either of them could remember having together. He found out her favorite color, she discovered he hated coming home to a dark house.
"It’s not like I’m afraid of the dark or anything, but I just like to see what I’m walking into."
She had nodded her head in agreement as if he could see her agree with what he had said.
Then, in a hushed voice he asked, "Now, tell me what you are wearing? If this is a special occasion I want to know you dressed for it."
Sam looked down at the gold satin and lace nightgown she had chosen to wear tonight. He free hand caressed the cool softness of the material. Should she tell him the truth? Would he think she was being to forward? Deciding she would let him decide she begin.
"Do you want the truth or a lie?"
"Truth!", he said quickly... maybe to quickly.
"O.K.," she hesitantly said. "I’m wearing a long gold satin and lace nightgown that has side slits with spaghetti straps."
"And?"
"That’s it."
"That’s it as in... that’s all?"
Sam couldn’t believe her own ears when she went on to say.
"Yes, that’s all... Oh, I forgot... I’m wearing a smile too."
"Dear God. That has to be the sweetest gown in all history." He murmured, more to himself than to her.
Jack was finding it suddenly very hot and stuffy in his bedroom. He threw off the spread and now only had a sheet covering his lower body. He began to squirm as he felt himself began to harden, as he pictured her dressed in gold satin and lace.
"Now, it’s my turn. How are you dressed for this special occasion?
Sam playfully put a finger in her mouth as she waited for him to speak.
"I’m wearing my very Best Birthday Suit and the biggest, goofiest smile you ever seen."
"Birthday suit as in nude?" she cautiously asked.
"Yelp, buck naked."
"I’ve been talking for the last two hours to a naked Jack?" she breathlessly asked.
"Yelp, your one and only."
Sam felt a tingling and warmth spread over her body. Without thinking she moved down on her pillow until she now lay on her back moving her legs trying to ease the throbbing sensations the image of a nude Jack was causing in the area of their juncture. She wanted relief from this glorious torture and knew only one person could do that.
A soft moan escaped from her lips followed by one whispered word.
"Jack."
"I know... I know, Honey, I know," was all he could say for a few seconds. "Sam, right now I can picture us laying together in your bed. My hands are moving over your body, not knowing what to explore first. I’m picturing the satin covering your breasts. God, I can see your nipples harden as my hand moves away a strap from your shoulder."
Samantha felt herself being pulled to the brink by his passion filled voice. She arched toward the invisible partner sharing her bed. Feeling herself falling deeper and deeper in love with this man, than she had ever realized possible.
"Sam, are we ready to move into the uncharted territory this conversation is leading?"
Jack’s question was the cold wave of reason they both needed at this moment. He waited with bated breathe for her to answer. He realized tonight he had been in love with her for a long time, not wanting to admit it to himself until now. He couldn’t put a finger on the exact moment in time he had fallen but she owned his heart... lock, stock and barrel.
For the second time and he knew in his heart, for the last time in his life, he loved a woman more than life itself. He couldn’t picture any world without Sam at his side. This revelation made him reach out and grab the pillow beside him and crush it to him. Waiting quietly, he was going to let her set the pace for this new found love and he would damn sure keep to it. Even if it killed him!
"I was thinking of getting up and pouring a glass of wine, would you... care to join me?"
Relieve flooded over him as he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
"Oh God,... I’ll be there in ten."
"I’ll be waiting," she whispered in the phone.
"Sam... make sure you stay dressed for the occasion."
She laughed at his request.
"If you insist."
"Oh, I insist, I insist... "
"Of course I will or better yet. I might change into my Best Birthday Suit, too."
Jack swallowed an imagery lump in his throat, "Make that eight, it I leave right now. I’ll just grab a trench coat and be your friendly flasher."
The last either heard with the sound of laughter.
The End
Story Notes: My thanks go to Siobhan for taking the time to be my beta reader.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]