Staking a Claim
The bar was a dive. It looked like no one had cleaned the place in months: the floor still tacky from too many spills; the walls discolored from a time when you wouldn't have been able to see one end of the place from another because of cigarette smoke. An unidentifiable, faintly stale and dilapidated, odor permeated the air, though it was not totally repellent.
Neglected and mistreated for years. Just the kind of place he needed right now - anonymous and way off the main drag. A place he could disappear in, where no one he knew was ever likely to come.
It wasn't particularly busy but most of the bar's few inhabitants were as unwholesome as their surroundings. An old and not very pleasant smelling drunk propped up one end of the bar or, more likely, it propped him up. Jack O'Neill knew the drunk was smelly because he'd passed too close to the man on the way to the john.
The guy muttered to himself incoherently and, unlike many drunks he had encountered, seemed harmless enough. O'Neill mostly ignored him but couldn't help his eyes straying that way from time to time. Even when he had drunk quite a lot himself, Jack remained alert to his surroundings. Old habits die hard.
A man and woman sat in a booth behind him talking in low seemingly conspiratorial tones. They looked way higher end than the bar itself, out of place, which made O'Neill curious as to why they were there. He imagined them wanting to remain anonymous too, wishing to stay below the radar. Maybe they were having an illicit affair and this was a meeting place but he figured if that was the case, there were a hundred motels out there somewhere that would have been preferable.
Four brawny and rough looking men were playing pool at the back. They were the kind of men who might go looking for trouble once they'd had a few drinks. Jack kept a surreptitiously wary eye on them. Furtive because if they caught him looking he was likely to become the trouble they were looking for. O'Neill had had his fair share of scrapes with those kinds of men in the past. That kind of trouble was something a general in the USAF can live without.
A couple of solitary men sat drinking beer in separate booths, scruffy around the edges and looking lost and lonely. Just like him. Earlier, a hooker had wandered in and tried picking up one and then the other. She'd been low rent, exaggeratedly made up and overly and too brightly dressed. An older woman struggling to look younger. Too much younger and only succeeding in making herself appear faintly ridiculous. Probably wisely, they had turned down her offer.
When her ploys failed, she turned her attentions to Jack. She was too full on, too desperate. The hooker looked like she'd clocked up a lot of years, been dumped at the bottom of the dung heap too long ago. Jack was feeling lonesome and cheerless and probably could have done with some female company but he wasn't that wretched. She'd left without a client to cling to, probably to haunt another seedy bar just down the block. There were enough of them in this city. Enough of them in any city.
O'Neill stared regretfully at his empty glass, catching the bartender's eye and signaling for more. She poured him another shot, smiling.
The bartender was probably in her mid thirties, reasonably attractive and quite amicable. Way too good for this place, O'Neill thought. He was half curious about what she was doing working in a joint like this but neither nosy nor sociable enough to ask. Maybe she had reasons to stay anonymous too. There are many motives for people to want to remain hidden.
She'd been trying to hit on him all night and Jack was severely tempted. Certainly, she had a vague appeal. Far more than the low class hooker by a very long way and no money need change hands. Jack figured he could probably wait until she closed up and then they could go somewhere equally anonymous for sex. That might be kind of cool. Kind of.
It wasn't like Jack couldn't have done with the company or the sex. He wasn't getting much of either right now but his current sour mood meant he was in two minds about the idea. He hadn't come here looking for it and wasn't sure he really wanted it but he was lonely and feeling blue. Hence, the temptation nagged and he flirted with her occasionally to keep his options open.
Actually, though, his mind was on other things. He was thinking about Carter. Sam. Jack had been doing that a lot lately - a lot more than he usually allowed himself to. He was thinking about regret, lost opportunity, taking chances and being proactive. Turning up uninvited on her doorstep and revealing something about how he felt. Asking her out on a date. Making love to her. Marrying her. The latter was preposterous, he realized, but O'Neill couldn't seem to derail the fantasy. As for the rest, well, maybe.
Carter was still in mourning for her father. Jack knew that and it made him hesitant. Not long before, she had lost the man who was probably the most important person in her life. This wasn't the best time to make his move. People can do bizarre things when they are grieving and O'Neill didn't want a relationship with Carter to start out that way. He didn't want her falling into his arms just because she needed solace. He wanted the real deal.
She'd broken her engagement to the cop too recently as well. Jack pondered that this act might have been the product of grief in itself, although he knew she'd been having doubts about marrying Shanahan. Carter had said as much when she turned up at his place seemingly wanting to talk about those doubts. It was even possible she intended to discuss that "them" thing they'd deliberately avoided for all these years.
Her timing had been so off it had been embarrassing. Carter trying to have that conversation just as Kerry came waltzing out of his house. Jeez, O'Neill wished the ground would open up and swallow him and Carter looked like she felt exactly the same way. Who could blame her?
Kerry was gone now like all the other women in his life. One of the reasons he felt as lonesome tonight, he supposed. Can't keep hold of them, O'Neill thought, and to be frank he hadn't really wanted to since realizing how he felt about Carter. He hadn't exactly been chaste either but his relationships with women were short lived and for the most part casual.
Carter's surprise visit was the moment O'Neill realized she still had feelings for him. Understood he could have made his move and she might have been willing. Before that, he had become totally uncertain. Now he was relatively sure although didn't take it for granted. He'd never done that. Just as well, given the Shanahan debacle, which had nevertheless stung. Hurt a lot, if he was honest.
Then Jacob died and Carter threw Shanahan over and, well, technically speaking he was still her CO. Not for much longer, though, and this had got him thinking. Soon, she would fly off to Nevada and take up her new assignment. Regs wouldn't stand in their way anymore. It was time - but it also wasn't because of all those other obstacles. Would it ever be the right time?
It had been the wrong time, too, when he and his former team had spent a few days at his cabin in Minnesota. O'Neill was sorely tempted. They enjoyed each other's company, despite Jacob, despite Shanahan. However, Carter's grief had been apparent at various times during the vacation. No way would Jack take advantage of her vulnerability to woo her or make his intentions clear with a promise for their future. It wasn't the right thing to do. A dishonorable move, particularly when he was still her CO.
In a few days, he no longer would be. She'd stunned him by taking that job at Area 51. Sure, it was almost the perfect position for her but he still found it hard to believe she wanted to leave the SGC and SG-1, not to mention him. She was leaving him behind and that small slice of reality made Jack feel uneasy as well as unhappy.
Maybe all of that was grief too. Maybe the SGC reminded her of Jacob too much. He didn't know and hadn't asked. What she did with her career was her decision.
Daniel had made Jack promise to try and talk her out of it so he had. Well, kind of tried anyway. Truthfully, he didn't think it was for him to interfere and, consequently, his efforts had probably been a little too half-hearted. Perhaps Carter saw it that way too. Perhaps that was why she was going; because he hadn't begged her to stay.
Begging was out. A big no-no. Her career, her life and Jack had never begged for anything in his life. Well, maybe he had. He'd pleaded with Ba'al to put him out of his misery, wasn't totally beyond begging, but that was different. He might even have been prepared to beg for her. Beg her to want and need him. Beg her not to leave him. He hadn't. Too proud, perhaps, or maybe too humble and uncertain. O'Neill never had been much good at self-analysis. Most of the time he tried to avoid overly thinking things.
He would miss her. More than simply miss her. It would drive him crazy not to have her around.
Not to be able to stroll along to her lab, watch her working and distract her annoyingly, although he thought she kind of enjoyed that sometimes.
Not to listen to anymore of her overly complicated scientific explanations, although he kind of loved the sound of that voice even when it was spouting technobabble.
Not to have those little exchanges of banter that kept him going during a day, or be able to steal those enjoyable furtive glances at her, or trade something a little bit special and exciting by meeting her eyes.
He would miss so many things about her that O'Neill couldn't have listed them all if he'd tried.
Jack honestly did not know how he was going to live his life without her in it. Like losing an arm, or maybe his heart. It hurt to contemplate her leaving. He would mourn for her, in fact was already. That's the real reason he was here now, he realized. Grief is one of the most powerful emotions in the world.
In a few days, he would no longer be her CO and that might be a good thing. Maybe the time for begging was coming. Jack had been debating it on and off for a while now and, as he downed another bourbon, he was totally preoccupied with such thoughts.
"Penny for 'em," said the bartender, interrupting those mental meanderings. Not for the first time and probably not for the last. He glanced up at her trying to recall her name. She had told him.
"They aren't worth a penny," he replied.
"I'm thinking I'd be prepared to pay a whole lot more than that for them," she responded flirtatiously.
Dee Dee, that was it, he recalled. Dee Dee for crying out loud? What kind of name is that?
"What time you closing up, Dee Dee?" he asked and she smiled like a shark that has captured its prey.
"Are you waiting around?" she said eagerly and they eyeballed each other for a while, both knowing what was on each other's minds.
"Sure, I'm waiting," he agreed with a grin.
"Give me an hour. I think I can get away with closing a little early."
That settles that then, he thought. Cinderella will go to the ball. It was quite a while since he'd had a one night stand and the exchange reminded him of different times. Jack felt gratified he was still capable of picking up a woman in a bar. Good to know he had it in him.
He had a date with pleasant company and possibly pleasant sex. It would do because it had to. Meanwhile, he knocked back another drink and tried hard to thrust thoughts of Samantha Carter out of his mind.
Waking from her dream with a start, Carter realized the sound she thought was part of the dream was reality. She glanced at the clock and wondered who the hell was knocking on her door at this time of night - actually, morning but it was a few hours until dawn.
Then she heard the voice. His voice. Loud and belligerent. She had believed that to be part of her dream too. However, this was no dream. Undisputedly her CO was at her front door, apparently close to knocking it down.
Hastily, she leapt from the bed and pulled on a bathrobe. He was going to wake her neighbors and that really would not be a good thing. Damn it, was this something so urgent that he couldn't even call?
When she opened her door a few moments later, she understood. Sobriety was a whole continent away. Too late to stop him from waking her neighbors Carter realized when she noticed a few lights on in the street and twitches of curtains. Sam wondered how long he had been knocking and shouting before she woke up.
"Sir, you're drunk!" she exclaimed. He was beaming at her inanely and she suppressed a titter, frowning instead.
"Drunk? Me?" he replied with a slur. "I don't get drunk, Carter." She looked pissed with him and Jack couldn't imagine why. "What.?"
Very aware of those wakeful, watchful neighbors, she grabbed his arm. "You'd better come in!" She tugged and he fell through the door. "Oh, for Christ's sake!" Sam rolled her eyes as O'Neill slumped against her hallway wall, quickly pushing the door closed behind him.
"What the hell.?" she started to ask, taken aback when her CO started to giggle. Or it was as close to a giggle as she had ever heard him come. The general really was not the giggling type. He must be very drunk indeed, she thought, and wondered what to do with him.
"Hi, Carter," he warbled. Now he was warbling? Sam was beginning to think she was still back in bed and this was all part of her dream. He could barely stand and seemed about to slide down her wall imminently.
"Get your ass into the living room, airman!" she barked, hoping the command would snap him to it. Instead, he just giggled again.
"I sooo love it when you get bossy," he said. "Y-you can be the boss of me any day." Then he grasped her and pulled her close and the astonished Sam furrowed her eyebrows with amazement.
"How much have you been drinking, sir?" She was of thinking stomach pumps and similar unpleasantries, imaging having to call an ambulance or the SGC. That would be extremely embarrassing for both of them, especially the general.
"How much?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Who's counting? I've been drinking. So what?"
"Do you know what time it is?"
O'Neill peered at his watch myopically but his vision was blurred. "Um, no. Is it late?"
"More like early."
"Is it too late?" The look he gave her with those words seemed to contradict his drunkenness, his eyes boring into her with uncanny clarity that made her shiver. "Is it?" he asked again.
"Sir?" she queried as if she had no idea what he was referring to.
"Don't do that coy act on me, Carter. You know what I'm talking about."
His eyes continued to drill into her mesmerizingly and she gulped, eyes widening with surprise. Sam suddenly thought she understood why he was there. Now, however, was not the time, not when he was this high. She thought that particular topic deserved a more sober conversation.
"Why don't you come and sit down, sir? I'll get you a coffee."
Jack snorted derisively. "Got any bourbon?"
She pulled away from him. "Follow or stay there. Makes no difference to me." Smirking, she turned and walked into her living room.
"Carter?" Jack called after her with a tinge of pathos, struggling to balance and then staggering along the hall. "Hey, don't we have this thing about leaving people behind?" he added, lurching through the doorway of her living room. Sam laughed, moving to help him.
"I think you'd better sit down, sir," she replied taking his arm and steering her wobbly CO to the couch. "Sit."
With her gentle encouragement he sunk down onto the plumped up cushions, leaning at a lopsided angle and propping himself up the couch's arm. Sam breathed a sigh of relief at her achievement. At least now he was sitting he was less likely to fall and injure himself.
"Bourbon?" he asked again hopefully.
Thinking again about coffee and then wondering if he should simply sleep it off, the amused Sam stepped back, hands on hips and eying her CO with mock reproach. "I think water might be more appropriate," she said, thinking anything that might keep him awake could be a bad thing. Jack motioned at her disdainfully.
"You have got to be kidding," he responded.
"Don't have any alcohol in the house, sir," she lied. The last thing her CO needed was another drink.
"Are you bullshitting me, Carter? You really think I believe that?" he sneered, a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone.
"Okay, then. My house, my rules," she said firmly.
"Aw, Carter.!" he whined. "You should be more hospitable to your guests, you know that?"
"I don't recall inviting you, general," Sam retorted, grinning idiotically.
His drunken state amused her but, more than that, she knew why he was there. She was about to leave his chain of command. In fact, Sam had planned on doing something like this before leaving. Not turn up on his doorstep drunk, of course, but something. Like letting him know she still had feelings for him. She'd been pondering it for a while now - ever since agreeing to take that assignment outside of the SGC. It was time; seriously overdue. Their time, or that's what she hoped.
What with her father dying, splitting up with Pete and her work, Sam had been a little preoccupied of late. A lot had changed and continued to and she actively sought much of that transformation. It was time for that too, though Sam certainly had never intended to leave Jack out of the equation. She wanted him in her life and had decided to find out if he wanted to be in hers.
In all honesty, Sam believed he did want that. Sure, he had never tried to come between her and Pete but she got it. Nor had he ever clarified his feelings for her and she got that too. The small things he did, the way he could look at her sometimes for instance, encouraged her to believe he would pursue her if he was in a position to. Shortly, he would be in that position and she was free now to give it a shot.
There were no guarantees they would work as a couple and probably many reasons to think they might not. Relationships never come with a warranty, which doesn't mean you don't try to forge them. If she didn't even try, Sam knew she'd regret it. This had not been the only reason she had broken her engagement with Pete. When she had done that there was no reason to assume her relationship with O'Neill could or would change. It was, however, one of her reasons.
Then she had acted to make that change possible. Again, this was not the only reason for taking the job at Area 51 but it was one of them. Sam understood that long-distance relationships could be difficult to maintain. Nonetheless, all the time she stayed as close to Jack at the SGC their situation remained totally hopeless. Someone had to make the first move.
She was surprised it was him; making that move by turning up here, albeit smashed. Sam had presumed he never would. Not because he didn't want to but because she had mostly been the one to make certain they kept a distance from each other.
Sam suspected Jack might have been willing. Not necessarily to break those darned Regulations but he might have found a way if she had given him that choice. Jack retiring; her moving to a different team; whatever. There had been options but neither of them had been willing to pursue them.
He would never have risked her career even if he might have been prepared to jeopardize his. Sure, he'd asked her to the cabin a couple of times. As friends of course, although Sam thought something more might have happened if she had accepted those invitations. However, she declined, largely because of that "something more" she feared. He'd made his feelings clear with a look or a touch. Meanwhile, she had tried to stay strictly hands-off. It was hard saying no all the time. Especially to someone you wanted.
Nor had either of them wished to break up SG-1. They loved their jobs, the team, everything about working together. Now his promotion meant SG-1 as they had known it was gone anyway. Though they still worked well together, the three friends on the team and Jack back in the mountain getting them home. The team might have changed but this didn't make it any easier to contemplate dismantling their working lives.
Then there was Pete. Poor Pete. She'd made a mistake, although an enjoyable one at the time, and she'd hurt him. Sam regretted that. No one sets out to break someone's heart on purpose, or certainly not her. She'd hurt Jack too, had noticed the pain lingering in his eyes.
Sam didn't like herself very much for having done that. Her CO had tried to hide those injured feelings but she knew they existed. Jack had understood, she was sure he genuinely had. Understanding does not necessarily reduce the pain. She regretted that too. They say you always hurt the ones you love and she loved both of those men in her own way so knew it was true.
Since splitting with Pete, the thought of a relationship with Jack had been there. Hell, the thought had always been lurking in the background somewhere. Their trip to the cabin with Daniel and Teal'c had given that thought even more prominence in her mind. Those few days would count among the good times despite her dad's recent death. They certainly had been inspiring, prompting Sam with an urge to change her life. She'd done that alright.
In a few days, a vast distance might stand between them, but nothing more than that. Not if she had her say. It seemed he was thinking along the same lines.
Distance seemed like nothing compared to the Regulations and the working relationship that had kept them apart for as long. Not that it would necessarily be easy to pursue romance with her former CO. Sam was sure there would be other obstacles. She had a few doubts and presumed he did too. That was a no-brainer. The biggest impediment, however, would vanish.
She never doubted they should try, though. She very much wanted to try.
"Thought I'd surprise ya," O'Neill drawled in response to her comment about him being an uninvited guest.
"Oh, you did that alright, sir," she retorted acerbically although Jack could see from her expression that he amused rather than irritated her. "But you're welcome anytime. You know that."
Peering at her and seeing double, a creepy reminder of multiple Carters, he arched his eyebrows. "Am I? Do I?"
"Sure." She nodded, smiling warmly and he grinned back.
"Good to know," he stated, once again briefly seeming more sober than he had.
"I'll get that water," she said hastily, made slightly self-conscious by his incisive gaze. Before he could reply, she disappeared and returned a few moments later with a couple of glasses, placing one in front of him and sipping the other.
"I'm never sure about drinking something fish have been swimming in," he said eyeing the glass suspiciously.
"Thought you liked fish, sir," she quipped and he smiled.
"I love 'em, Carter. The water they swim in is another matter. They crap in it you know." He said it as if revealing an ancient previously undisclosed wisdom and she chuckled.
"I think they clean it before it gets to the faucet, sir."
He stared at the glass again, this time picking it up and examining the clear liquid within.
"Really?" he queried with a tinge of mockery in his tone. Then he took a few large gulps, emptying the glass and putting it down again. "Ah!" he sighed, smacking his lips. "Delicious!" He glanced at Sam with a smirk on his lips and flopped back into the comfort of the couch, rubbing his eyes. "Tell me there aren't really two of you."
Sam laughed. "One of me quite enough, eh, sir?"
"One of you might be more than I can handle."
"Oh, I seriously doubt that, Jack."
Eyes snapping open, O'Neill lifted his head and looked at her with surprise. "Jack?"
Sam shrugged in response, saying nothing and meeting his eyes with the kind of self-assurance he'd only ever seen before in a work environment. She stared at him unwaveringly in a manner that left him in no doubt about what was on her mind.
Stunned, Jack felt obliged to drop his gaze, vaguely thinking he should reprimand her, insist she refer to him by his rank, call him sir, be more respectful, but he didn't. Instead, her unexpected brazen informality served to fuel his intentions.
"Right, about that." he started when Sam cut him off.
"Not now, Jack. It's not the right time."
"Never is, is it?" he said sounding regretful.
"What I mean is you're drunk. I'd prefer you weren't if we're going to have that conversation."
"That conversation?" he retorted, emphasizing his words with gesticulated quotes and looking back up at her again. "Who said anything about conversation?"
Winking, Jack grinned but, feeling a little lightheaded, he rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes again, unable to see her smiling response.
"Room's spinning," he slurred and Sam got up and went to him, sitting on the couch by his side.
"You okay?" she asked with concern.
"Not really."
"I'll go make up the spare room," she suggested but he shook his head, making himself feel even dizzier.
"Think. stay here just. little. longer. go home," he murmured.
She snorted, tickled by the notion that he believed himself capable of getting home.
"Just stay for a." he said, trailing off before completing his sentence.
Sam watched him fondly for some moments, knowing he was asleep when he started snoring gently. Smiling, she took one of his hands in hers and squeezed.
"Goodnight, Jack. We'll have that conversation in the morning." Then she leaned toward him and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Tomorrow," she whispered, getting up and going to find a bedcover to keep him warm.
When Sam came back, she tried to make him more comfortable by removing his sneakers and throwing the cover over him. She was tempted to try maneuvering him into a different position by lifting his legs onto the couch, instead deciding not to risk disturbing him.
'Let him sleep it off,' she thought, returning to her chair to sit and watch him doze. She no longer felt particularly tired. 'Trust Jack to wake me up and then fall asleep himself.'
She felt no resentment, though, but something akin to a sense of rightness and peace. Gee, were they really going to have that conversation in the morning? Sam hoped Jack didn't try to avoid it once he'd sobered up. He wouldn't, she decided, because she was not going to let him.
Having made up her mind about that, Sam continued to scrutinize him for quite a while. Sleep made him look serene. She supposed it did most everyone. He was such a handsome man, beautiful in his own way, although he'd sneer if she ever used that word to describe him.
Not only was he good-looking, but she liked many aspects of his character. Darkness lurked beneath the surface, sure, and she'd seen it raise its ugly head a number of times, suspecting there was more where that came from too.
There wasn't necessarily anything wrong with that darkness. It didn't count in itself. The way a person used it was what mattered. Sometimes it was a requirement of his job and Jack probably couldn't have lived through some of the bad things without blacker elements tainting him. Those aspects of him were exhilarating and, fundamentally, she knew he was a good and honorable man.
Yes, Jack was a good man, possibly a great one. Sam considered herself too biased to make that judgment. She enjoyed his humor and wit, playfulness and caring softer nature as much as she admired his guts, determination and courage.
Sometimes, he could take all of those things too far and they were just as much defects as they were admirable. That was the nature of humankind, though, not just Jack O'Neill. Everyone has faults and contradictory natures.
Jack was not a straightforward person and Sam didn't want it any other way. His very complexity and ambiguities appealed to her. He was what he was and she believed she loved the man flaws and all.
He stirred, interrupting her thoughts, and his slight shift in position made him snore louder. It wasn't the most attractive of traits in anyone although Sam knew the booze made it worse. The sound developed into a noise that would drive any sane woman into the spare bedroom before it sent her insane.
"Time for bed," she grumbled to herself getting up. "Love you and leave you, Jack," she whispered, pausing to rearrange his cover and peck his cheek.
Stopping in the doorway as she was about to leave, Sam turned to glance at him again, smiling affectionately and muttering under her breath. "Tomorrow, I swear."
Waking with the mother of hangovers, O'Neill groaned. His head throbbed with a beating pulse that could have played bass guitar in an R&B band and his mouth tasted like rotting garbage.
Tentatively, he squeezed one of his eyes open a fraction, relieved when no bright light came flooding in. He had enough pyrotechnics going on inside his beleaguered brain without having to suffer daylight.
Then both eyes widened, shocked by his unfamiliar surroundings. Carter's couch, Carter's living room, Carter's house.
The astonishment of memory came and he cursed aloud, appalled he could have got drunk enough that he'd turned up here. What had he been thinking? More to the point, what must she be thinking? What an ass!
Jack could remember quite a lot though wasn't sure he had perfect recall. In all honesty, he didn't realize he had got quite that drunk. He hadn't felt as smashed before leaving the bar and didn't start out with the intention of coming here, planning to go home and sleep it off instead. The night air mixed with alcohol must have hit him like an express train. Air and booze can be a lethal concoction. Carter would probably understand the chemistry involved.
Certainly, he'd acted like a total jerk arriving at her door drunk and unannounced in the middle of the night. Jeez! She'd let him in. Why Carter would do that, O'Neill didn't know. Probably thought she didn't have much choice what with all the noise he remembered making. Drunk and disorderly he believed they called it. Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass!
Carter had seemed relatively polite, patient and even amused. Bless her for that, he thought, because most women probably wouldn't be and for good reason. Saint Sam! The notion made him smile. Then he guessed he must have fallen asleep. Oh, man! She probably didn't have the heart to wake him and throw him out like she should have.
If anything had happened in between, he could not remember it and that bothered him. O'Neill really hoped he hadn't made himself appear even more ridiculous. He hoped he'd behaved.
When juiced, Jack tended to have more control than people imagined. Take the previous night for example. He'd stopped himself from making the grievous error of leaving the bar with Dee Dee, abruptly getting up from his bar stool and disappearing, trailing apologies behind. He felt a little bit bad about blowing off the enthusiastic bartender but couldn't bring himself to do it - especially not now that there might be some possibility of making a go of it with Carter.
On the other hand, he obviously hadn't been able to suppress his urge to come here and speak to her. No control there then. Homing instinct perhaps. Except with homing instinct, you normally get to go home. This place had never been like a home for him. He figured Sam had been for a long time though. Not the place but the person. That's probably why he'd ended up here.
Jack was starting to remember details of their conversation now, if you could call what they'd said the previous night conversing. He began to believe he hadn't made a total ass of himself after all, just a minor one, which was a modicum of relief.
Better than that, though, was the recollection of her reactions to him. She'd called him Jack for starters and then stared at him in that manner he knew meant something. Sam had brushed him off in the end. Her intention that they talk when he sobered up, however, was genuine enough.
Sober. Right. He wasn't there yet but he would be. Eventually.
Sitting upright, he stretched, trying to ease the kinks out of his aching back. Sleeping on her couch had been a bad move for his ageing muscles and bones.
Worth it, though? O'Neill guessed that was still undetermined though it certainly seemed like he and Sam might be thinking along the same lines. Was it actually possible the timing might be right for both of them at long last? That might make worse physical pain than this seem worthwhile.
Throwing off the cover she had obviously provided after he'd passed out, Jack stood up and stretched again, a loud mix between a yawn and grunt rising up from his gut and out of his mouth. Then he heard her moving around and a few seconds later realized she must have heard him too because she made an appearance.
Waltzing in gaily, a cup of coffee in hand, Sam smiled so brightly it almost made his headache worse.
"Morning Jack!" she said chirpily, having purposely made up her mind to use his forename. "Coffee. You need some."
Sam was already dressed and alert, which made Jack feel at a disadvantage. Although he was fully clothed himself, he felt kind of naked and exposed. And hung-over. Crap!
He flopped back onto the couch again and she placed the cup in front of him. "Drink, and take these," she said handing him a couple of painkillers.
"Good idea because I feel like hell," he replied with a croaky groan. "Morning," he added politely.
"Feeling crap, huh? Self inflicted injury," she mocked. "It probably serves you right."
Jack threw her a grimace. "Gee thanks."
"You're welcome," she replied with a disrespectful expression he rarely observed. "You did wake me up at a ridiculous hour, you know, and some of my neighbors. I guess you could call it payback."
He sighed, looking regretful. "I was an ass last night." The admission was a close as Jack would probably get to apologizing, which was not really his style. He was struggling to gauge her reaction to his wayward behavior when she amazed him with a dazzling broad beam.
"Not an ass. Just way too drunk."
"I didn't make a fool of myself?"
"Um, not really, no. Well maybe a little." Sam indicated how little with a gesture and Jack smiled faintly.
"Good to hear. I guess I can live with a little. God, I feel rough."
"It's called a hangover, Jack." She smiled sweetly, moving toward the window to open her curtains. The very notion of daylight made Jack feel slightly queasy.
"Please don't!" he asked. "Do you mind? Don't think I. ack!" His gesture was indicative of the pain inside his head. Clearly, she didn't mind because she left the curtains drawn and came to sit on a chair opposite him again.
Thinking further about how she had addressed him, O'Neill stared at her long and hard before speaking again.
"No sirs, generals, none of that this morning, Carter?" he said caustically and when she chuckled again, meeting his eyes with a boldly impertinent expression, Jack looked surprised. He liked her reference to his given name, he really did, and her audacious manner was appealing too, however, usually she was more respectful.
"Well, I figure General O'Neill wouldn't turn up drunk at my house in the middle of the night, but Jack O'Neill might. Ergo, right now you are Jack, not my CO. With all due respect of course." Her smile became a smirk. "Any argument with that, Jack?"
He snorted with amusement. "You'll get no argument from me on that one, Sam." He used the name deliberately, noticeably emphasizing it and finishing off with an amused grin. Jack liked the way she was thinking - liked it very much indeed.
Leaning back in her chair, she returned his piercing gaze without any appearance of discomfort. Jack liked that a lot too.
"So," he continued. "Do I look as bad as I feel?"
Sam scrutinized him for a few moments then smiled in a cheeky manner. "Probably worse."
Jack groaned again. "Thanks," he said sarcastically. "You're doing wonders for my ego this morning."
"You asked."
"Remind me never to do that again."
He looked wretched but when she laughed in response, Jack couldn't help joining in. Laughing made him feel a little bit better, he realized. Laughter therapy. Some people swore by it and, despite his aversion to psychological clap-trap, he could see the merits.
Then Jack became conscious of his need for the bathroom to pee and wash his face. Both would make him feel much healthier. "Mouth feels crap," he said, making a face. "Don't suppose you've got a toothbrush I can borrow, have you?"
Sam wanted him to clean his teeth, primarily because he stank of booze and she fully intended to kiss him at some point before he left her house. She would go for it because it was one sure way to make her feelings clear. That is if he didn't do it first.
"If you want you can use mine. No diseases, I swear." Sam held up her hand as if taking an oath. She was thinking that as they would be sharing those oral fluids soon anyway, it couldn't do any harm to use the same toothbrush. "Take a shower if you like. Clean towels in the bathroom closet."
He smiled feeling slightly bamboozled. A shower would be good. "I will. Thanks. Keep my coffee warm." He looked at the pills she had given him and knew his mouth was too dry to swallow them without help but when he picked up his coffee, it was way too hot. "That's hot enough already. Can I have some water for these?"
"Go help yourself. There are some clean glasses in the dishwasher."
He liked that she was treating him as if this was his home, not standing on ceremony, as if it was normal for him to be there on a weekend morning complete with hangover. Her familiarity made a refreshing change. Sure, he was still her CO and strictly speaking she should be more formal. Not for long, though, and they were both very aware of the fact.
Nodding, he disappeared in the direction of her kitchen and when he returned a little later, he'd showered and was drying his hair with a towel. Sam nearly gasped aloud. He looked mouth-wateringly mussed up and slightly damp at the edges.
Rising from her chair, she walked toward him nervously but with steely determination. Originally, Sam had not intended to do make this move as quickly. Then, as he looked incredibly appealing, she decided to throw caution to the wind. She would surprise him, probably shock him.
Evidently, Jack was not expecting it because he didn't react to her approach. When she grabbed the towel from his hand, forcefully grasping his head and planting one on him, he was temporarily stunned, frozen to the spot. Then he wrapped his arms around her and she intensified her kiss, exploring his mouth with glee.
Some people might have described it as sucking his face off. Jack recalled using the expression himself to describe Sha're kissing Daniel on that fateful return to Abydos.
"Holy cow! What was that?" he exclaimed when she pulled back from his mouth. Neither of them moved to disentangle themselves from their embrace and they steadfastly met each other's eyes - a powerful exchange of emotion and longing.
"I'm staking a claim, Jack," she told him. "For when you aren't my CO anymore."
Then she pushed away from him and calmly returned to sit down, not on her chair but the couch, and making it clear with a hand signal that she wanted him to join her. He did, saying nothing and drinking his now cooled coffee down in a few large gulps.
O'Neill's heart was still pounding from the shock of that kiss and, although he didn't know it, Sam's was too. Her composure was only skin deep.
"Are you really sure you want to do that?" Jack asked when he'd finished, capturing her eyes again.
"What do you think?" she replied with mock tartness and a smile.
"Staking a claim, huh?" He nodded thoughtfully. "I can definitely live with that." Jack grinned happily, tentatively placing an arm around her shoulder.
"You're still my CO, Jack," she warned although she made no move to distance herself from him.
Jack was thinking this was going exactly the way he wanted or something like it anyway. He liked that. In fact, he liked everything about this morning. Hangover notwithstanding, of course, though even that head thumper had subsided quite a lot once he'd showered. Her kiss had almost blown away the last vestiges.
'You blew my mind, Samantha Carter,' Jack thought with wry amusement. "What are a few days between friends?" he quipped aloud.
Sam, agreeing with the sentiment, allowed herself to relax, dropping her head onto his shoulder and moving a hand to rest on his lower thigh. It felt natural, as if they did it everyday.
"This is easier than I thought. I'm surprised it doesn't feel more difficult," she commented.
Jack concurred, having truly expected it to be more awkward too. Maybe some of that discomfiture was still to come but at that precise moment he couldn't have felt more contented and at peace. After the downer of the previous night's despondency, his mood was positively upbeat.
"Easy, then?" he asked.
"Just. easier than I thought."
"Right?" he queried.
"Perfect."
"Cool," he mumbled, grinning into her hair as he turned his lips to kiss her head. "Um, time for that conversation we've managed to avoid, huh?"
"As you told me last night, who said anything about conversation?
Jack laughed. "Did I really say that?" Sam nodded and he gave her an affectionate hug. "If you need to talk."
"I don't. Do you?"
He thought about it for a while before replying. "I imagine there are some things to discuss, yeah."
"Not right now. Right now I can't think of anything I need to say."
"Me either," he responded affably.
Taking one of her hands in his, Jack stroked it with his thumb and Sam gently squeezed his thigh. They remained tranquilly silent for a long time simply enjoying the moment.
At some point she interrupted their idyll to make them fresh coffee, then she returned without comment to their quiet and comfortable embrace. To Jack, it felt like coming home; to Sam it was like fulfilling a wish.
"I've thought of something to say," she said eventually and before he could open his mouth, continued. "Why the heck did we wait so long?"
He loosed an amused grunt, running his fingers through her hair. "Because we're both crap at this? Are we gonna pick over all those old bones or should we pretend like nothing ever happened?"
"Nothing did ever happen," she said, looking up at him with a smug expression and he grinned back at her mischievously.
"Right. But it sure is happening now."
"It sure is and it can't happen fast enough for me."
Her comment came as a pleasant surprise to Jack and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, marveling at her unexpected directness. He had anticipated they'd be playing a game of bluff and double bluff for a while before getting their acts together. This all seemed too good to be true. However, he wasn't inclined to question it because he might jinx it. Then she suggested something that genuinely shocked him.
"Stay for the weekend?" Sam could see from his open-mouthed expression that he was astonished. Her appeal literally took his breath away. "You're shocked," she said frowning and hoping she hadn't gone too far in her effort to take the prize.
"I-I never expected." He paused, taking the breath that he badly needed, and she plunged on.
"I guess I'm coming on a little bit strong, huh?" It suddenly worried her he might imagine that and think less of her as a result. Jack could read the concern in Sam's expression.
"No!" he asserted hastily. "I like this bold, go getting Sam Carter thing you've got goin'. I'm not outraged shocked, just. bowled over shocked." Grinning, Jack was thinking how much he longed to make love to her though he might never have dared make such a move this soon.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming, Sam," he said, biting his lip apprehensively. In response, she pinched him, tittering. "Ow!" he cried. "I guess I'm not dreaming then."
"No, not dreaming, Jack."
Unfortunately, her little nip failed to jolt him out of the abruptly severe case of jitters that hit Jack when he realized how badly this could all still go wrong. What if they weren't truly compatible? What if sex together sucked? There were many ifs and buts and that was quite daunting.
Then, despite his rush of desire, for various reasons he was not entirely certain going all the way with Sam this quickly was the right thing to do. Sure, he had waited a long time for this, they both had. Conversely, those pesky Regs still stood in their way even if it was only for a short time.
"I'm still your CO, Carter," he said in an attempt to be rational. Sam was far less cautious and eyed him challengingly.
"Who cares anymore, right? In a few days, it won't matter."
"Well, the Regs care," he replied knowing they'd broken them already. Regardless of what his heart wanted, O'Neill's pragmatic side continued to argue that lovemaking might be a breach too far. Reason waged war with desire. 'Damn it, I want this! Why shouldn't I get what I want? I deserve it, don't I? I'd be crazy to refuse, wouldn't I?'
While he argued with himself, Sam pulled away from their embrace, twisting round and facing him with crossed legs. Her bare feet pressed into the flesh of his thigh and Jack suppressed a grunt. Sam seemed about to make her case but he preempted her, turning a little himself to engage with her eyes.
"I'll stay anyway," he declared, feelings winning over logic. "I'd stay for the rest of my life if you'd have me."
She looked taken aback by that confession and, having voiced his sincerely meant commitment, Jack felt self-conscious. One of those awkward moments he'd suspected they'd have well before coming this far. For a second, he thought he'd revealed too much too soon and his gaze wandered away from hers uneasily. Sam, however, recovered her composure quickly and swiftly retorted in a way that simultaneously surprised and pleased him.
"An offer I can't refuse." Reaching for his hand, she lifted it to her mouth and sucked his fingertips, making Jack sigh with longing and intensifying his urge to make love to her. His eyes found hers again as he sought to read her expression. What he saw was hunger, affection, possibly way more, and his heart skipped a couple of beats. "Pity I'll be in Nevada while you're still here in the Springs."
Jack couldn't have agreed with Sam more and found himself amused by the irony. The only reason they could do this now was because she was leaving his command. That very fact, however, could be one of the biggest obstacles to their fledging relationship.
Her words prompted him to believe she wanted to discuss how they should handle that physical distance. Jack had no answers, only more questions. Nonetheless, he was determined to find a way of making it work if humanly possible. What she said next staggered him even more than any of her previous statements.
"Of course, Las Vegas is in Nevada too." She left the sentence hanging, giving him a provocative look that he returned with one of astonishment.
"V-Vegas? W-what, um." He was totally flustered. Everyone knew what Vegas was most famous for aside from gambling. Had she just proposed?
"You did say the rest of your life, didn't you?" She was still holding his hand and she kissed it, this time nibbling those fingertips with sensual small nips while she waited for a response. Jack was still nonplussed, stammering when he replied, a befuddled reaction that gave Sam a thrill. He looked like a somewhat lost pubescent teenager, a cute look on Jack.
"I, um, I. Yes, that's what I said," he confirmed, breaking her hold on his eyes and staring down at his lap.
Sam had not simply bamboozled Jack by what she seemed to be saying but with her tantalizing though gentle seduction. Now not only was she sucking the tips of his fingers again, which felt so good he could barely concentrate, but she had uncrossed her legs and was softly kneading his thighs with her toes.
"And you meant it, didn't you?" She knew the answer. Jack wasn't the kind of man who would flippantly tell a woman he'd happily stay with her forever. Inside, her thudding heart and jangling nerves were at odds with her outwardly confident appearance. She meant it too. It was obvious Jack, on the other hand, had trouble believing that. She'd shocked him again and Sam wasn't sure if it was outraged shock or bowled over shock.
"W-well, yes, Sam, but. are you suggesting what I think you are?" He couldn't quite believe she was being this forward. First, she kissed him then asked him to spend the weekend with her and all that implied. Now she appeared to be proposing marriage. Jeez, was she thinking they should elope just like that?
"Well, I didn't mention Vegas because it's got casinos. I'm just saying Jack. I'm not necessarily suggesting right now but." she replied, shifting position again to kneel on the couch where she had just been sitting. Grasping his chin between her thumb and forefinger, she turned his face toward her and he looked up. "You think I wouldn't stay with you for the rest of my life if you'd have me too?"
"You don't know that!" he protested with a wild flourish.
"I don't and you do?"
It was a fair point and Jack couldn't deny it. He'd said it and meant it hadn't he? Then why couldn't she mean it too? Still he attempted to resist her allure. "W-we haven't, I mean, after one drunken night on your couch and a single kiss?"
"We can soon rectify that," she said, her expression sublimely seductive. Leaning forward, her lips approached his and her breath on his face made him quiver. Then she touched her mouth to his, her tongue insistent on passing inside. Jack did not intend to fight her and gripped Sam's hair as his mouth opened to let her probe, giving back as good as he got.
"No pressure Jack," Sam muttered breathlessly as their mouths parted. She barely moved her face away from his so the space between them was infinitesimal, the atmosphere electric.
Jack wasn't sure what to think. Despite Sam's apparent supreme confidence, he continued to argue. His inner cynic ruled his words and, in part, so did his heart and past resentments. Pulling back, he increased the distance between them.
"Christ, Sam, it took you two weeks to accept the cop's proposal. Are you really expecting me to believe.?"
She smiled inwardly at his reference to Pete as "the cop" as if he didn't want to speak the name. Perhaps he didn't. Sam could understand that and why Jack might feel jealous of her relationship with him. She knew she had been green with envy when she'd found out about Kerry. 'The CIA woman", as Sam inwardly referred to her. That little discovery had certainly jolted her, forced her to think - and act.
"You aren't Pete," she interrupted, a few simple words that meant a lot.
Jack took a few breaths, sinking back into the couch and scrubbing his hands through his hair with a sigh, all manner of emotions raging through him.
"I thought we weren't going to pick over all those old bones," Sam added patiently. She could understand why her relationship with Pete could be a stumbling block between them but was upset that Jack couldn't simply take her openness at face value.
"It's only a few weeks since you broke it off with him and since your dad died. You think I don't know how grief can make people act out? I-I'm just finding this hard to believe. You seem so sure about us."
Sam grunted in frustration. "You think I'm acting out? I see."
Realizing she was irritated, Jack tried to suppress his incredulity and confusion. "Don't be pissed with me," he said, brushing a hand over her cheek.
"I'm not." In fact, she was wondering how to deal with his doubts. "I'm just. Let's not spoil today by getting into a dumb argument. We don't have to talk about this now. We don't have to talk at all."
Not being the best conversationalist in the world, Jack was content with that idea for now. He knew he had to do some thinking, and fast. Why was he hesitant? Because he didn't believe she could feel this committed before they had even started this radically new relationship? Truthfully, he didn't really believe that either. Sam had feelings for him, he had no doubt about that, but they were moving at light speed and he couldn't keep up. What she was suggesting was huge and awesome, staggering.
Mutely, with a few simple moves and gestures, he urged Sam to lie on the couch with her head on his lap. Once she had, he stroked her hair absently and pondered their mind-boggling conversation. He wasn't looking at her but she watched him as he slumped back staring at her ceiling.
Pushing her fingers through the gaps between the buttons on his shirt, she caressed his stomach, deciding she had to reveal more, make him understand how she truly felt.
"Jack, I'm never going to love you any more than I do now," she confessed in a low voice and his caresses stilled as he regarded her speechlessly. "Nothing to do with my dad's death or breaking up with Pete. I've been in love with you for. probably years. You must have figured that out by now. If you aren't sure."
Her declaration overwhelmed him and Jack attempted to remain calm and focused, stifling his turbulent thoughts. It wasn't that he wanted to dissuade her from her evident conviction. They were simply moving faster then he could ever have conceived. Only a few hours before he had been getting drunk in a bar mourning for what might never happen and now Sam had propelled him into a dreamscape.
For himself, Jack was as sure about them as he needed to be. He would make love to her right now if that was what she wanted. He would even elope with her if that was too, although he'd prefer she knew him better first - knew what she was really getting. He wasn't a good bargain or leastwise that's what he believed.
Nerves aside, Jack was darned sure he wanted it as much as she claimed to. He wasn't going to change his mind about her. Not after carrying that torch for as many years.
"I'm not sure you know me as well as you think you do," he said, managing self-restraint, although quite how he did that was a mystery to him. He should be making love to her right now. Confessing his feelings. Anything other than sitting there like a halfwit, arguing. Something innate within Jack forced him to exercise that reluctant self-control. "Maybe I'm not the guy you think I am."
"Bullshit," she said, abruptly sitting up and taking his hand. "I know you way better than many wives will ever know their husbands. I know you well enough. What about you?"
Jack was surprised she needed to ask. Sighing heavily to relieve his inner tension, he curbed his caution and surrendered to his gut impulse, the romantic rather than pragmatic side of his soul. Moving closer, the palm of one hand lightly pressed her cheek and a wisp of a smile appeared on his lips. Before he even replied, Sam knew she'd won - if you could call it winning, if indeed any real battle had actually taken place. She'd got him.
"Last night in the bar driving myself nuts thinking about you," he whispered hoarsely, the emotion of the moment getting to him, "thinking about kissing you, making love to you and even marrying you. Kissing, making love. they seemed possible. Marrying? That seemed real crazy at the time, but it's not crazy."
He trailed off but Sam said nothing, simply staring into his eyes and waiting, thinking he hadn't finished. She was right.
"I'm in deep, Sam," he continued, his dark eyes unambiguously radiating love. "l-I guess you must have figured that out by now too. I know what I want. I just hope I can give you what you need."
She grinned. "So, committed?"
"Yes. Committed," Jack agreed with a nod. Smiling more broadly, he smoothed a finger over her face. "Always was."
"I didn't doubt it." Sam inched closer.
"Hardly the most romantic way for two people to decide to get married," he responded, bending so close their lips almost touched.
"We've got plenty of time for romance. Years. Right now, I would really like you to make love to me, Jack O'Neill."
"Right now?" he queried with a pleased smirk and she nodded.
"Sex is the best hangover cure ever, or that's what I'm told."
"Hangover? What hangover?" he quipped with a wink, catching a glimpse of Sam's smiled reaction before cupping her face in his hands and finally kissing her. The kiss embodied heartfelt passion, was a soaring rhapsody that verified their feelings with significantly more clarity than the spoken word. Heated, intense and all consuming.
He felt more alive than he had for a long time, wanting nothing more than to make love to her immediately as she wished. She was vibrantly elated and pleased with herself. Their mutual hunger was apparent.
One of Jack's now trembling hands trailed down her face and chest, wandering under her top to smooth her flesh and envelope a breast. Then he stopped abruptly, meeting her eyes with fiery intensity tinged with a hint of doubt.
"What if we're bad at this?" he asked.
"We won't be."
"Are you really as super confident about it as you seem?"
"No. Actually I'm terrified," she admitted, disarming him once again with her candor.
Jack chuckled nervously. "Good, because I am too."
"Yeah, you're shaking a little."
Sam could feel the tremor through his touch. Or perhaps she was the one that quivered. Probably both of them.
"What's a minor earthquake or two between friends, huh?" he quipped.
Giving her no chance to reply, he kissed her again, this time his hands exploring seductively. She responded with a few moves of her own, leaving him gasping for more than mere air when he pulled his lips away.
"It seems like I staked that claim at the perfect moment. I think I just struck gold," Sam muttered breathlessly.
"Amen to that," Jack said with a wickedly sexy grin, starting to unbutton her shirt.
A few weeks later:
Cursing with exasperation, O'Neill flourished his arms in a gesture of acute impatience, flexing his uncooperative fingers. He hated ties, everyone knew that. Like a noose around his neck, they suffocated and stifled him. Jack avoided them whenever possible, often joking about why he'd been dumb enough to choose a profession where it is mandatory to wear one with the uniform.
Having sported a tie for years, though, why did he have to choose now to make a mess of knotting it? Sheesh, as if he had a lifetime to get ready!
"Jack, for crying out." Sam started as she entered the bedroom. She'd heard his cusses from the bathroom, was close to getting exasperated herself, but didn't want to panic today. Then she noticed the knots he seemed to be tying himself into - or, rather, his tie into - and trailed off with a smile. "Got the jitters by any chance?" she asked and he grunted.
"What do you think? I'd say I'm. pretty wired. Aren't you?" he grumbled, glancing at her in the mirror and thinking she looked superbly serene. That so wasn't fair when he was a wreck.
"Of course I am, honey," she replied smoothly, sounding quite the opposite. Approaching, she added, "Here, let me."
Jack turned to face her, allowing her to fuss. A few seconds later, his tie was perfectly straight and he grimaced.
"Now why couldn't I do that?" he muttered grumpily.
"For god's sake, Jack, smile!" Sam responded more calmly than her words implied, refusing to get flustered. "You are happy, aren't you?"
Pausing to look her up and down, he smiled and then kissed her on the lips, pulling her into a hug. "Sure. This doesn't stop me from falling to pieces apparently. You look great."
"Don't muss my make-up," she demanded, pushing away. "I want to look my best."
"Sam, you never look less than your best. Believe me, I'm an expert on the way you look in all kinds of situations." She grinned and took his hand in hers. "But do me a favor and try to seem a little bit more anxious, will ya?"
"And that would help calm you down?" she retorted with a hint of mockery.
"It might." He pouted boyishly and when Sam giggled, the pout morphed into a grin. "You really do look. stunning."
Her close fitting pale pink skirt suit emphasized her curves. Peeking from beneath her jacket collar was a bright pink silk blouse that complemented the suit. Cream high heeled sandals accentuated her shapely tanned calves and her make-up and hair were meticulously unflawed.
Pink was not a color that immediately sprang to Jack's mind when he pictured Sam. Not unless he was thinking about her beautiful rosebud colored nipples, a vision that entered his head as he ogled her now. Unfortunately, at present they didn't have any time for hanky-panky so he tried to suppress the resultant lustful notions.
Later, he promised himself. Later he'd take great pleasure in leisurely removing that flattering pink outfit, and the bright pink sexy underwear he knew lay hidden beneath.
Her color choice had surprised him but it really looked amazing on her, brightening and enhancing her skin tone, making her glow luminously - more vibrant in appearance than the woman he had grown accustomed to over the years. He loved the look. Perfect.
Jack felt positively untidy by comparison. Apart from the trouble with his tie, he'd been attempting to tame his unruly grey hair for some time but without success. It simply refused to be conquered, instead sticking up in an undisciplined manner despite his recent haircut. He'd given up that particular fight fifteen minutes ago while Sam was putting on her make-up in the hotel bathroom.
Sam smiled. "Thank you," she said, taking a short bow. "You look pretty darned good yourself."
"Oh, puhleeze!" he replied, waving a dismissive hand. "My hair refuses to behave, I can't tie a tie..." He sighed. "Wired." He shrugged in a frustrated manner.
"I love your hair. You look hot, Jack," she insisted clearly believing it, and he grinned with glee.
Sam had been great for his ego over the few weeks since that fateful night he'd turned up on her doorstep, drunk and out of control - well, kind of out of control anyway. Jack wasn't an out of control sort of man most of the time. Occasionally he wondered how much of his insobriety on that night had been due to his subconscious desire to let himself go and act on his feelings. As it was, Sam had done most of the hard work and he'd just turned up for the show.
The couple hadn't seen as much of each other once she'd moved to Nevada, but during the subsequent short few days they had spent every free moment together. Then, once she'd left the SGC, as much time as logistically possible too.
Now, she regarded him with open admiration and Jack figured love did strange and astonishing things to the intelligent brain, blinding her to reality. He wasn't good enough for Sam, he knew that. He wasn't as handsome or charming or young or smart as she deserved. However, he was what she wanted and that in itself was one of the wonders of the universe as far as Jack was concerned.
She let go of his hand, moving her fingers to pick a speck of something from his smart dark blue suit and then stroking his cheek. Her eyes glistened with joy and that open admiration thing that gave Jack such a frisson of pleasure. Briefly, he pondered whether he looked as besotted with her as she did with him. Probably, because he was totally and utterly under her spell -enthralled, awed and very much in love.
Every moment spent together since that night had confirmed the deep feelings they held for each other. Jack could barely believe his luck and it seemed Sam felt the same way.
That first time they made love together - which had utterly cured any remnants of his hangover - had not been perfect. Okay, nice, fine but not perfect. He'd wanted it to be but you don't always get what you wish for. Seeing her naked for the first time, however, had blown him away. Kissing her, holding her, caressing her.
The sublime came later, after they got over those initial nerves and high expectations that made perfection close to impossible to achieve. Sam was more than he had ever imagined, and he'd imagined quite a lot on and off during the many years they'd known each other, way more. A whisper of her touch brought him alive - a word, a gesture, a smile.
She captivated him and there was no way of escaping. Not that he wanted to escape, not ever. The commitment he'd made to her that momentous morning had increasingly intensified as hers had to him. This relationship, this love, was for life and they both knew it.
As for Sam, she had surprised even herself that first night, let alone Jack. She had never believed she could be that forward, never planned for it. When Jack rudely interrupted her sleep, she had been dreaming about him. This was partly why she thought the knocking at her door, his loud slurring voice, was still part of her dream.
As the time approached for her to leave the SGC, Sam thought about Jack quite a lot, considering pursuing a relationship with him once she left his chain of command. Before going to bed that fateful night, she had argued the toss about taking some kind of action. She'd hashed it over in her head for the best part of the evening. They had both failed to act for far too long.
In a few days, the Regulations that kept them apart would no longer apply and she would be free to have that relationship she knew she wanted. He wanted it too, Sam was almost certain about that.
She ended up persuading herself that she would make her feelings more obvious, let him know she was willing. Someone had to act first and Sam was convinced Jack never would. He had good reason to doubt her what with the whole Pete thing.
Sam ended it with Pete because she knew he wasn't the man she really wanted. Even if she could never have Jack, marrying Pete was not the right thing to do. They would both be miserable, Sam because she couldn't love him enough and Pete because she could never make him happy when she loved another man more than him.
Before he died, her father had helped her to see that. He met Pete, knew he wasn't truly right for her and seemed to know who was. She had created her father in a concussion induced hallucination on board the Prometheus. He told she'd denied herself love; that she had to let go of the things that prevented her from finding happiness.
Then she'd hallucinated Jack and he'd told Sam she was using him to deny herself what she deserved - something better, real and attainable. He was her safe bet.
Sam had gone for Pete as a result but later realized she had badly misinterpreted those hallucinations. Jack was never the safe bet, the excuse keeping her from finding the real deal. He was not one of those things her father referred to that she had to let go. Sam convinced herself he was but she was wrong. Jack was the real thing. She couldn't let him go.
Her dad spoke to Sam for real about it when he lay in the infirmary dying. He seemed to see inside her heart, to know what she truly wanted, and it wasn't Pete Shanahan. Jacob Carter was an observant and intelligent man. He wished her to be happy, to live the life she desired, to go for it.
She thought about that a lot and broke her engagement with Pete. Then she set her sights on achieving the rest of it and that included trying for the seemingly unattainable Jack O'Neill.
Consequently, she thought about that a lot too. What she might do, what she might say. She took a huge leap in deciding to leave the SGC, but the rest of the dream was much more difficult to pull off. Plucking up courage to face Jack, knowing she'd hurt him, not knowing if she'd left it too late, seemed like an impossible mission.
That night when he turned up drunk on her doorstep, she had already persuaded herself to do whatever it took to achieve her goal. It wasn't going to be easy. She would have to find courage, be audacious and single-minded. If she failed, Sam had the bitter comfort of knowing she probably would never have to face him again.
Once she moved to Nevada, he would be out of sight if not out of mind. She could hide her mortification and get over him at last. Jack wouldn't be there to remind her of how much she loved him and what a fool she had made of herself.
Then out of the blue he was there, virtually falling into her lap. Drunk, yes, and she should have been pissed with him, but it wasn't like Jack to be so out of control. Sam knew him well enough to realize it was an aberration. Sure, he drank, but getting into that kind of state was not O'Neill-like at all.
Half of her wanted to believe he had good reason to be there, that he'd been thinking about her too, about taking action. The other half thought he might be in trouble and need her help. Why else would he be that smashed and knocking on her door in the middle of the night?
Either way, she wasn't going to let him down when he needed her. Maybe he behaved like a bit of an ass but above everything, Sam considered Jack a good friend even though she wanted to be more than that. You don't abandon friends that are in trouble.
If he'd turned up for the reasons she wanted, it was an opportunity. If he needed a friend, she was there for him always. Just like she knew Jack would be for her.
Therefore, instead of being angry and spurning him, she welcomed Jack, thinking his unexpected appearance might be fate. Seek and you shall find it said in the Bible. All she had to do was reach out for it.
At first, Sam was cautious. Jack was still her CO after all. Then, with a steely determination that shocked both of them, she went for the prize full throttle.
Sam had always strived for a lot, worked hard to get it. Never in her love life before though. That night she scared herself with her forwardness, yet somehow it had seemed easy as well as hard. Fortune favors the brave.
Now here they were and Sam didn't regret her actions for one single moment. She'd done good and she was getting what she wanted at last. Her dad would have been proud and she wished he'd lived to see this day.
Jack made her happy. She loved him, they'd made a pledge to each other and that was that.
Now it was time to do something tangible about their commitment before it was too late.
Previously (timeframe a few weeks after that fateful morning when Jack and Sam finally became a couple):
Sam had always strived for a lot, worked hard to get it. Never in her love life before though. That night she scared herself with her forwardness, yet somehow it had seemed easy as well as hard. Fortune favors the brave.
Now here they were and Sam didn't regret her actions for one single moment. She'd done good and she was getting what she wanted at last. Her dad would have been proud and she wished he'd lived to see this day.
Jack made her happy. She loved him, they'd made a pledge to each other and that was that.
Now it was time to do something tangible about their commitment before it was too late.
The Story Continues:
A week earlier:
He'd never been particularly great with computers. Knew what he needed to, otherwise O'Neill wasn't interested and left it up to the experts. Sam's move to Nevada awakened an interest he hadn't sought but she told him it would be worth it and it was.
IM, email, VoIP and a webcam - Jack quickly picked up the intricacies, amusing Sam when he waxed lyrical about the miracle of technology. More specifically, he marveled at how easily he could see and speak to her on his laptop. The seeing part made all the difference. Way more intimate than a mere phone call.
She agreed. Sam was more familiar with what he referred to as "the beast", in other words the internet. She was just as thrilled as he, however, when he appeared right in front of her eyes for one of their now regular hook-ups.
The previous few weeks had been tough going for Sam. Getting to grips with her new role was difficult enough but the SGC had been her second home for a large chunk of her life and she missed it. In fact, she'd spent more time inside Cheyenne Mountain than she had in her house. Used to moving around because of her father's career, then having chosen that military path herself, Sam had never established real roots anywhere - until Colorado Springs.
This latest move was, therefore, different. The Springs was home. Her friends, her whole life, were back there. It wasn't that Sam had never made friends before, but the bonds with her fellow team mates were powerful forces to reckon with. Outside of her family, she had never experienced the like of such strong ties before.
Sure, everything was changing back in Colorado. Daniel was due to move on. Another galaxy beckoned. Teal'c was preoccupied with his Free Jaffa, helping to forge a new nation, a different way of life. Then there was Jack.
The relationship with her former CO had changed suddenly and dramatically before she left the Springs. Now, Sam longed for his physical presence more then she had ever imagined.
Although she wanted a long term relationship and the whole nine yards, she was an independent woman. Her relationships with men had never defined her, or she didn't believe so. What she had with Jack, however, was something intense and unique and Sam wanted to make the most of this newfound, eye-opening connection.
The miles that stood between them were a burden. Worth bearing so far and she wanted it to stay that way, but a pain in the ass nevertheless. Their regular webcam contact was, therefore, a godsend.
Jack had never prided himself on his great communication skills. Quite the reverse; he openly admitted that talking was not a strong point, particularly when it came to the more personal and intimate. Opening up was far from easy. Sam didn't think she was that great at it either. Two peas in a pod.
As a result, silent voids could occupy their distant contacts as much or more than words. Sometimes they talked, sure, but sometimes they didn't. At first, this seemed a little awkward, until they realized it didn't really matter. No couples talk all the time, right? Just like what would happen if they were together in the same room.
Despite that, Sam had learned much more about Jack rather than General O'Neill in the previous few weeks than she had ever known before. Likewise, she had revealed bits and pieces of Sam as opposed to Carter. It was a gradual process, just like in any developing relationship. All that "getting to know each other stuff", as Jack sometimes put it, was as important as it was fascinating.
They regretted the lack of physical contact because a large part of their familiarity centered on it. Not the sex so much as the hugs or small tactile gestures that often communicate feelings far more than words. They saw each other in person as much as possible, but theirs was a new and burgeoning relationship and thus far, the virtual heavily outweighed the actual.
On this occasion as they connected and Jack's face appeared on her screen, Sam noticed almost straight away that something was bothering him. He smiled in greeting but his eyes lacked their usual spark. Asking him about it might well be pointless she realized. If he wanted to let off steam and talk, he would. Otherwise, she would make the most of the simple and mainly silent contact. Just seeing him was close to being enough.
They exchanged the usual pleasantries and Sam rambled on a bit about a couple of work issues, but Jack seemed distracted and they soon lapsed into the muteness that tended to dominate these phone calls. Sensing there might be something he wished to discuss in a Jack like reluctant way, she stared at him thoughtfully for a while before deciding to prompt him.
"Are you okay?" she asked, wishing she could reach out for him. This was much better than a mere phone call but not quite good enough. She wanted to touch him and was sure he felt the same way.
"I miss you," he replied evasively. Sam knew this wasn't the true root of his disquiet but he rarely if ever actually expressed those sentiments so she smiled sadly and pressed her fingers to the screen. Jack did the same at his end - virtual touch, implicit holding of hands.
The silence continued and she waited for him to speak, hoping he would confide whatever it was that disturbed him. She thought he wanted to.
"I'm getting transferred," he announced suddenly and she stared at him in wide-eyed shock.
"W-what?"
"I'm leaving the SGC."
Sam's heart pounded with dismay and she was stunned into silence. The SGC needed Jack, she was certain of that. What had possessed his superiors to do something so stupid? He was by far the best qualified and experienced officer available to command and, as far as she knew, he'd done a good job.
She realized he'd had many doubts about his ability since taking over from General Hammond. It was one heck of a job, but Jack was one heck of a guy. He'd met the challenge and had not come up wanting. She couldn't understand why they would have reason to transfer him out. It didn't make sense.
Before she could speak, he came back to her again. "Shocked, eh?" he said and she nodded dumbly.
Now Sam started to consider the potential consequences for their relationship. Would this transfer make it harder for them to see each other? The idea made her feel sick. Bad enough that their work already separated them for too long but if he moved even further away it could become close to impossible.
Could they survive it, she wondered? Yes, she was confident they could endure almost anything. She loved Jack, he loved her. They were both military. They would cope. Other people did, didn't they, so why not them? On the other hand, many didn't deal with long separations particularly well and she dreaded this might happen to them.
They'd only just started this relationship, damn it, and Sam very much wanted it to work. They were good together, so much greater than she had anticipated. Jack was attentive, thoughtful, gentle and compassionate, often charming. He rarely failed to make her feel good about herself. Their lovemaking was tremendous. In fact, she had never before encountered such bliss with a man, such unadulterated love.
Now she saw him in a new light, Sam understood how different he could be to the man she had worked with for all those years. She had loved that man but she loved this one even more. This private O'Neill - the Jack that seemed to reveal himself only to her.
When he looked at her, she saw his feelings reflected in his eyes. He genuinely loved her back, adored her. That depth of emotion made her feel extra special and Sam knew she had a similar impact on him.
Sometimes she wondered if their feelings blinded them to each other's faults, but she didn't truly believe it. Love could be blind, sure, but after all those years of working together, the couple was very aware they each had failings. Sam was sure they would irritate each other, bicker and fight, but equally certain she would love him her whole life. Kissing and making up would be a lot of fun she thought.
Sam realized Jack didn't get why, but he accepted she loved him deeply and eternally, grasping it with both hands because he felt the same way about her. She cherished the way he loved her so unequivocally. No ifs, no buts, no doubts. Jack wasn't one for confessing those feelings often but she was wholly secure in the knowledge that they existed and hoped he had this same confidence in her. She believed he did even if he never said as much.
They had no real need to express how they felt verbally. It wasn't that they took it for granted but simply that they knew, felt it in their souls. Talking was something they did but rarely about that and those frequent silences had become comfortable, companionable and tranquil - absolutely unlike their current uneasy one.
"Where, when?" she asked eventually as he obviously wasn't going to volunteer any further information.
"D.C. A month."
She looked agog at that. "D.C.? A month.? D.C.?" she queried again, not quite able to picture Jack in a posting in the big bad capital. "The Pentagon?" She was astonished, had never considered Jack ending up there and was sure he hadn't anticipated it either.
"Hammond is moving on. The President asked for me and the IOC seems to agree, although heaven knows why. But you don't say no to the President of the United States, right?"
Her mouth hung open with shock, an expression that might have amused Jack if he hadn't been in such a serious mood. He knew she hadn't expected this. Nor had he come to that, but his revelation had visibly shaken Sam.
He was still thinking it all through. The implications of the job, the implications for them. Both worried him but he'd been pondering the latter before calling Sam, thinking about worst case scenarios as was his habit. She would come back into the fold, his chain of command. As Head of Homeworld Security, Hammond had responsibility for her new area of work and in a very few weeks Jack would too.
"It's a promotion. A second star," he announced flatly.
Sam smiled now, excited for him. She realized he would never have sought this but he would feel honored, albeit a little daunted, by the prospect. He would continue his involvement with the SGC too. They weren't losing all that expertise as she had first feared.
"Apparently one star simply isn't enough for Head of Homeworld Security," he added with a hint of self-deprecation. This was an unusually rapid promotion.
"You were toying with me weren't you? Really, Jack, you had me going for a moment there. It's fantastic! Congratulations!" she exclaimed effusively, quickly noticing he did not seem similarly ebullient. Jack had not been toying she realized. He should be delighted but this was Jack. He didn't admit it and had accused her of it, but sometimes he over thought things.
"I never wanted D.C." he replied gloomily. "Damned politics and politicians. Backstabbing. I'll be crap at it."
"You won't!" she argued encouragingly wanting to lighten his downbeat mood. "I know it's not really your thing but think of all the good you can do for the SGC. You'll get used to it."
"If I don't end up on a charge because I decked some bureaucratic asshole like Kinsey."
Sam laughed. "You can be remarkably restrained. Just count to ten and think about saving the world when one of those assholes gets to you and you'll be fine." He smiled at this remark. "Better than you think, I'm sure of it. Jeez, I can't think of anyone else who could do the job better. Imagine the alternatives." She puckered her nose up at the thought and, although Jack didn't look convinced, her confidence in him gave him a small boost. "Besides, as you said, you can't deny the President. You have to do it."
"Of course I'm gonna do it but that doesn't mean I have to like it." He eyed her sullenly for a moment, sighing. "And we'll be further apart than ever."
"Just a plane ride away. We'll never truly be apart," she assured him and he regarded her silently for a while, a small smile appearing on his lips.
"No we won't," he agreed. "But that's not all. We'll be."
He seemed unwilling to voice it but Sam suddenly caught on to the other consequences for them. Thinking she knew what he was about to say, she interrupted.
"You'll be in charge again. Same chain of command," she said in a dismayed tone at that crushing blow, her previously cheerful and optimistic disposition abruptly replaced by despondency.
Jack nodded, looking equally disturbed by the notion, and Sam's thoughts ran wild as she took a few moments to ponder the potential repercussions of that fact.
No wonder Jack had seemed subdued about his promotion and reluctant to talk. All those plans to make them happen meant very little now. Those pesky regs. damn it!
Sucking his bottom lip, Jack said nothing, allowing Sam time to think it through. Becoming her CO again, albeit further removed than before, might not have been the first thought that crossed his mind when he'd found out but it came close. He'd been obsessing about it ever since, dreading telling her.
"I won't let them take you away from me, Jack. Not now, not ever," she said determinedly.
"You think I'll let that happen?" He was equally resolute and could think of one simple solution but was reluctant to voice it.
"No I don't." Still thinking quickly, she stared at him for a while before continuing. "Let's get married like we agreed that first morning. Marry me now before it happens."
His eyebrows shot up to the heavens. "Sam."
"No, Jack. Don't argue about it. Just do it! Meet me in Vegas and marry me."
"You really mean it don't you? I've thought about it but."
This was his simple solution as well but he was thinking it was too soon, that she might regret it later. Marry in haste, repent at leisure. Jack didn't much like cliches but had to admit they were rooted in reality. He didn't want them to marry just because it was expedient.
"No buts. I meant it then and I mean it now. We both did. If we're married first, the Regulations allow for it."
"I know." He knew those Frat Regs backwards, forwards and inside out, curse them!
"Well?" Sam sensed his uncertainty and thought she knew the reasons for it. "We have just as much chance of making a go of it as anyone, don't we? Probably more. It's a risk worth taking."
He studied her for a few moments before responding. "What if.?"
"Screw the what ifs, Jack!"
He smiled quirkily, reminded of the surprising Carter go-getting attitude that had brought them together in the first place.
"You're sure?" he queried and she didn't reply, instead giving him a look that brooked no argument. Sure, she was sure and Jack knew it. Sam understood he didn't want to rush things, wanted her to get to know him better. What he didn't seem to realize was that she already knew him well enough, as if she'd always known him.
"I should have asked first," he replied in a teasing petulant manner and Sam rolled her eyes.
"Men and their egos," she muttered, making him grin. "I already got it in first so you're too late anyway."
"Aren't I always?" he agreed with a chuckle. "I was ready to do it that first morning if you'd insisted, Sam. I'm no great prize and you're crazy to want me but I love you and can't imagine that ever changing. What was it you said? I could never love you any more than I do right now? I've loved you for years? Something like that."
"Is that a yes?" she asked with a grin. Jack didn't throw the love word around with abandon but when he tossed it, Sam caught it square in the gut -a sucker punch but a good one.
"You betchya."
"Committed?" she said, her grin broadening.
"Always." He grinned back, recalling the conversation they'd had on that first morning just as she was. Only a few short weeks but it seemed a lifetime ago. "I'll get to Vegas, Sam, whatever. No big church wedding then, eh? I always imagined you'd want one of those. You and Pete."
"Forget Pete," she said quickly. Sam didn't want to talk about him. They'd already been around that block and decided not to pick over those old bones, as Jack had put it. "There's no comparison. I just want you."
"Yeah, well there's no accounting for taste I guess," he said with a self-effacing semi-smile. Sam loved the way his face screwed up on one side when he did that. His eyes twinkled joyfully at the compliment too and her heart leapt with elation. His mood had changed dramatically.
"I think I've got impeccable taste," she said, winking, and Jack smirked at her.
"Won't have time for a honeymoon," he commented in a regretful tone and Sam shrugged as if it didn't bother her.
Maybe it didn't but Jack swore he would make it up to her. Take her on a fantastic vacation sometime down the line when they could get away for long enough. He wanted to give her the dream too; a real wedding of the kind he imagined she would have truly wanted, the fairytale young girls fanaticize about, but it was not to be. Instead, they'd probably take those vows in some offbeat chapel on the Strip and he kind of lamented that fact. Not for himself but for her.
She didn't appear to mind much, though, and that thought heartened him. She wanted him. It seemed to be as simple as that - as simple as almost everything had appeared to be on that first day. He was flattered, felt blessed. Had done since the moment she had kissed him that morning, since she had first suggested eloping to Vegas, since she had made her feelings very clear and honored him by asking him to stay.
"Are we gonna tell anyone or just do it?" he asked.
Sam cocked her head thoughtfully and then shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Just do it I think, don't you?"
He nodded agreement and then grunted a short laugh. "Daniel is gonna be so pissed."
Sam looked horror struck. "Oh sh..! Does he even know we've been, um, dating?" She didn't know what other euphemism to use but dating somehow seemed the wrong way to describe her and Jack's relationship.
"Well I haven't said anything to him. You haven't either I presume. Crap!"
They weren't really keeping their relationship secret deliberately. They simply hadn't told anyone about it. They'd only been together for a few short weeks after all, much of that time at a distance. The opportunity hadn't presented itself. Neither of them were the types of people to just blurt out such information about their private lives.
"We are gonna be in so much trouble," Sam replied, then a small smirk appeared on her lips and she gave way to a giggle. "Well, won't everyone be in for a hell of a surprise?"
The notion amused her for some reason; that the first time any of their friends or family one would find out about them might be after they were married. Apparently, she'd caught Jack's often wacky sense of humor. He seemed to think it was funny too because he chuckled. Then his features took on a more serious expression.
"You know some folks will assume we've been carrying on secretly for years don't you?" he said. This was another reason he hadn't wanted to rush things. Jack didn't want to tarnish Sam's reputation.
"Lots of people think that anyway."
He looked at her askance. "They do?"
"Sure. You didn't know?"
He seemed to think for a few moments. "I guess I never considered it. We didn't behave inappropriately did we?"
She shook her head. "I suppose people picked up on things and there was definitely something to pick up on even if we never really breached those darned regs." She smirked and he smirked back, then they both laughed.
"Came close sometimes though, huh? Maybe they noticed how much I cared."
Sam smiled but had tears welling in her eyes recalling some of those times he'd really showed it. "You mean more than you were supposed to?" Jack grinned inanely in response, obviously remembering when he'd first voiced those feelings just as she was. "I figure they noticed that with me too."
"But I cared about the whole team, Sam. Did I really play favorites?"
He looked perturbed but Sam didn't think she was impartial enough to answer his question with any honesty. All she knew was how upset she had been whenever Jack was in grave danger or hurting. She loved Daniel and Teal'c but Jack. Yes, her feelings had been different, there was no denying it. This might have been obvious to anyone with open eyes and common sense so perhaps Jack's feelings were obvious too.
"It's not that, Jack, it's just the whole women working in a man's world thing. It's better than it used to be but there are still issues." she replied, dodging his question. Jack, of course, realized immediately that she was playing avoidance. He'd done it often enough himself to know the signs. He did not, however, press further instead filing it away for consideration later.
"I think screw 'em, but that's easy for me to say. It's what they think about you I'm concerned about."
"I can look after myself."
"Don't I know it?" he exclaimed with a grin.
She smiled in acknowledgement of his compliment. "We get talked about behind our backs anyway so why should we expect anything to change? Whatever we do, some people will never accept there was nothing going on before. It's one of those things and I'm not going to let them dictate what happens now. Let the tongues wag. The people who really count know better."
"Do they? Perhaps. I guess you're right, you always are."
The expression on his face told her his tongue was firmly in his cheek and she tittered. "If only that were true."
"What husband would dare tell his wife any different?" he joked again and this time she laughed heartily before they both fell silent again.
It was quite a while before Jack breached their mute communication again. "I wish." he started, not finishing but making what he wished for very clear by mimicking what Sam had done earlier and placing his fingers on the screen. She did the same, yearning for him to be there as much as he did her. Their slightly poignant expressions spoke for them.
"I wish too, Jack," she said eventually. "Wish you could make love to me. Jeez, I miss." She trailed off thinking about those skilful fingers, delicious lips, dexterous tongue and every astonishing thing about having sex with him. "You are the best," she added with a sigh and Jack snorted cynically.
"Sure," he replied, tone heavy with sarcasm.
"I mean it."
"I know." A small smile brightened his otherwise serious features. "And I'm pleased you believe it."
"Because it's true."
"One thing this beast can't let us do," he said, referring to their method of communication. "Touch."
"Yeah," Sam agreed ruefully.
"Seeing you and not being able to is getting harder Sam. And so am I by the way."
His face bore the most innocent expression and Sam released a slightly nervous snicker at his little joke although agreed with the sentiment. Would their virtual relationship grow increasingly difficult, she wondered?
"When can you come over?" she asked.
"Vegas next weekend?" he suggested. "Assuming the sky doesn't fall in or something. Leave it to me. I'll sort it. But before we get married, before we even leave the hotel, the first thing I'm gonna do is make mad, passionate love to you, Samantha Carter. As soon as I walk into the room, I swear." He held up his hand as if taking an oath.
"Now that's the kind of action I want to see in Vegas. You're on!"
Sam could feel herself blushing and felt faintly ridiculous. Just the thought of Jack touching her, of them making love, made her shiver with anticipation and she realized it showed when Jack spoke again.
"I see you like that idea." He grinned and Sam waggled her eyebrows to cover her awkwardness. "In fact, I think apart from that marriage thing we ought to stay in the hotel room."
"All weekend?"
"Well, we might eat a little," he replied with a humorous expression.
"Eat you," she kidded, smirking.
"Jeez, Sam, don't tease. I was serious about it getting harder."
"Oh my. Poor baby. I wish could kiss everything better." She was trying hard to control a laugh but was sure he could see that.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Sam!"
"Sorry, I couldn't resist, but you aren't the only one suffering withdrawal."
For the next few minutes, they traded amusing remarks filled with innuendo, trying to be flippant. Jack made mental plans about the following weekend and how he might make their impending nuptials more special than a quickie elopement.
He was very serious about how much he wanted to make love to her though. When they eventually disconnected thoughts about their marriage were the last thing on his mind as he pictured seducing her and vividly recalled that very first time.
A few weeks earlier - the morning after the night before.!
Jack's heart thudded excitedly as he unbuttoned Sam's blouse, his fingers smoothing over her firm breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, as if she had anticipated this and maybe she had. Given her behavior that morning, it wouldn't have surprised him. The thought emboldened and excited him even more. Sam truly wanted him, she loved him. How had he earned such good fortune?
It so easily might have been different. If he had gone off with Dee Dee; if he had not got as drunk and behaved as his gut wanted him to by turning up here. Too many ifs but none of them mattered now. Nothing mattered except what happened next.
He was making love to the women he had long yearned for. The thought was both intimidating and exhilarating. He had wanted and waited years for this moment and attempted to suppress that fact most of the time. Fact, however, it was.
Jack had come close to losing her, to letting her go. Now, he could not imagine what had possessed him, why he had been such a pigheaded idiot. In all honesty, he'd believed it was the right thing to do, to let her follow her dream. It seemed part of this dream was about him after all and that made him very happy.
When he woke up that morning, Jack believed he'd done the wrong thing. Got too drunk, made himself look like a total jerk in Sam's eyes. Maybe he had been an ass but he couldn't regret that now because it led him right here into her welcoming arms.
Sam was terrific. Instead of berating him for his errant behavior, she'd been amused. He appreciated that open acceptance, the solidarity and trust that allowed her to welcome him come what may. They'd been through some tough times together and maybe this was why. She already knew he wasn't always a total jerk. Sometimes, yes, but who isn't? To find a perfect man, the perfect person, was to live in a dream world.
Jack realized he was very far from perfect and was aware of his many faults. Sam wasn't perfect either, although occasionally it seemed that way. Flaws make a person who they are just as much as all the good stuff, he thought.
Nuzzling her neck, he nipped it gently while continuing to caress the bare flesh under her blouse. She gasped in his ear and he smiled. She was enjoying this, which was good, right? He was both nervous and confident in almost equal measure. Jack wanted this to go well, to prove himself to her.
In the back of his mind, he dreaded disaster: that they wouldn't mesh, he wouldn't perform, he'd fail and embarrass himself, he'd put Sam off. Jack also understood he probably would not deter her that easily. The knowledge bolstered his confidence and self-esteem but he very much wanted this first time to be perfect. First times, however, rarely are and this was one reason he doubted himself. Expectations were high as well, perhaps too high -another reason.
Removing her blouse altogether at last, he pulled away to look at her, smiling at the sight of her breasts, her naked flesh, but saying nothing. She smiled back and indicated he should remove his top too. Then she ran her fingers over his chest while he groped at the zipper on her pants.
"We don't have to rush this. We've got all day," she whispered and Jack stopped what he was doing and met her eyes.
"Yet we've waited a lifetime," he responded, belatedly thinking his words sounded trite and school boyish, far from the impression he was striving to make. Jack was pleased to realize Sam hadn't seemed to notice.
"A few minutes here and there are nothing then, are they?" she replied. "Don't be nervous, Jack, you don't have to perform for me, you just have to be yourself."
He let loose a breath and smiled. She appeared to know about his uncertainty and fears. With anyone else that knowledge might have bothered him but not with Sam. He wanted to be himself with her, longed to be. Jack hoped she loved the real Jack O'Neill - along with his corny uncoolness - just as much as she loved the facade she had experienced more frequently. It was worth the risk that she would. Maybe she felt the same way.
Admittedly, Jack didn't think anyone could work as closely together for that long without gaining some kind of insight into the real person who lay beneath the veneer. Not when they'd been through so much together.
They'd held each other's lives in their hands, seen the best and possibly the worst too. Absolute trust, faith, hope as well as love of a special kind. Not the kind experienced by lovers, husbands and wives or even close friends, but of the type that only exists in special situations.
There is no way to describe the kind of relationship that develops in those unique circumstances. That kind of love and all the rest of those inexpressible feelings were not limited to Sam alone. They extended to the other members of SG-1 as well. Jack was sure each of them had experienced those kinds of feelings over the years they'd all worked together. They'd been close but never this close.
This new experience was something entirely different - no longer CO and subordinate, way more than special colleagues and friends. This fundamental change was mind-boggling to contemplate and Jack being Jack tried not to over think it. In fact, he tried to push it out of his mind entirely but this was no easy thing to do.
Lying back on the couch, Sam pulled him toward her. "Hold me," she murmured. "Just hold me."
Willing to take more time over their lovemaking, Jack relaxed a little then, resting his head between her breasts and stroking her pale skin with his thumb.
"How did you know what I was feeling?" he asked curiously.
"Apart from the trembling hands you mean?" she replied humorously and he chuckled. "Because I've known you for that lifetime we've waited and because I'm nervous too."
"You shouldn't be," he whispered sounding more certain than he felt.
"Neither should you."
"First times are rarely perfect," he said, echoing his earlier cynical and self-deprecating thoughts.
"You think I expect perfection?" She combed her fingers gently through his hair and he sighed, feeling the physical signs of his desire subside a little. Jack wondered if it was the hangover or his nervousness that affected his libido. He'd never had much of a problem before. Perhaps he wanted this too much and had a lot to prove to the far younger Sam.
"I don't know what you expect," he admitted truthfully.
"I don't know what you expect either."
Jack chuckled again at a thought, which he voiced. "Have we been up on each other's pedestals for too long?" Sam laughed appreciatively and Jack moved his head so he could see her face, placing his chin where he had been resting his head.
"Aren't we a bit beyond pedestals?" she asked.
"You mean I fell off yours years ago?" he said with a smile and she grinned back, shaking her head.
"Jack, I don't worship you, I just love you."
"Dang!" he exclaimed with tongue firmly in cheek, liking her words but unable to greet them without kidding around. He was crap at that, he knew -had to cover unease with a wisecrack or two. "And I always hankered after that bow down before your god worship thing."
She smiled but remained silent for a few moments. "Worried that anticipation is better than the real thing?" she said at last.
"I guess," he confessed.
"I don't expect perfection. Do you?"
"Don't know what to expect, Sam."
"But our hopes are high, huh?"
"I think."
It was true that Sam's expectations were high. Probably his too, she thought. They had both wanted this for too long. Had years to think about it too much. Dreams and fantasies. Could be a killer.
Sam had never believed this would be easy for them. Not at first. So far, it had been way more effortless than she had imagined but anything could happen from now on in. Unexplored territory. More scary than walking through the gate into the unknown. Exploring without the benefit of a MALP. She shivered with apprehension and Jack looked at her with concern so she smiled as reassuringly as she could.
"Decamp to the bedroom?" she asked. "More comfortable, more space."
Nodding, he got up, reaching for her hand but remaining mute. Sam stood, facing him and leaned forward to peck his bare shoulder briefly. Holding onto his hand and intending to lead him through her house to her bed, she said, "Come."
"I intend to," he quipped and she laughed lightly. Nevertheless, the tension was palpable.
When they reached her room, Jack pulled her close for a kiss and Sam scrubbed his bare back with her fingertips. He could feel his slightly faded lust returning with a vengeance.
Taking her courage in her hands while she still had some, once they pulled away from the embrace, Sam quickly removed the rest of her clothing. She stood still, watching his reaction, both amused and flattered by his obvious awe.
Jack stared at her brazenly, taken aback by her move but overwhelmed by what he saw. He'd kind of been looking forward to removing the rest of her clothing but didn't really object to her actions. Naked Sam. She was quite something to gawp at.
"As. um. stunning as I remembered," he stammered and she arched an eyebrow curiously, trying to think of any previous occasion he'd seen her naked and coming up empty. "You know, that time on P. something or the other." He waved a dismissive hand in a typically O'Neill like way, unable or unwilling to recall the planet designation as was his habit. "You drank that stuff that made you take off..."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, recalling the mission and her mortification. "Don't even go there." She looked embarrassed and this made Jack smile. "I was much younger then, Jack." The occasion had been many years ago, back when SG-1 were still finding their feet as a team.
"Still just as hot, Carter."
"You thought I was hot back then?"
He rolled his eyes as if it was a given she should have known about. "What do you think?"
"It didn't show."
"I was your CO, Carter! Couldn't let it show. But. well." He smiled and shrugged. "Didn't stop me thinkin'."
She stepped forward and reached for the waistband of his pants, unfastening the top button and brushing her hand over his now obvious erection. Jack thrust toward her with a groan as she started to unzip his fly and slipped her hand into his jeans.
He grunted, grasping her hair and pulling her head toward his. His breath heated her face and he kissed her ravenously before maneuvering her to sit on the edge of her bed. Still standing, Jack smoothed his fingers over her face and neck while she started to remove his pants, slowly pulling them down his thighs.
When he stood as naked as she was, Sam returned the compliment he had given her by leaning back and staring shamelessly. She liked what she saw. Jack had put on a little weight since he'd been less active but in her eyes, he was still as attractive as ever with a fine physique for a man of his age.
He felt a little self-conscious as she looked him over but then she smiled.
"I can't believe I'm finally getting to see Jack O'Neill naked," she commented hungrily.
"Nothing to write home about," he responded, quietly pleased by her reaction.
"I could think of a thing or two to say." She winked at him and he grinned, his desire acute now, although Jack's pragmatism kicked in.
"We should use a condom. You don't know where I've been," he quipped, only half joking. Jack knew it was likely Sam used contraception and believed both of them were probably clear of nasty sexual diseases. Nevertheless, that kind of thing was important.
"Shit! I don't think I've got."
"I have some," he announced, remembering the small supply he'd bought from a vending machine in the bar the previous night in anticipation of Dee Dee's attentions. The sudden recall made him feel slightly uneasy. He crouched down, removing them from the pocket of his jeans and holding them up for Sam to see as he straightened again. She noticed his discomfort.
"Always carry those around with you?" she asked with a teasing smirk.
"Scouts. Be prepared," he retorted continuing the bantering tone.
"A likely story," she replied with a hint of mockery.
"What, you don't believe I was a scout?" Jack tried to look wide eyed and innocent but his expression made him look guilty of wrongdoing instead.
"Let's just say I'm cynical about coincidences." Her tenor became more serious, changing the tone of their exchange.
"I didn't get them expecting this to happen if that's what you think."
Jack didn't want Sam to perceive him like that, to think he'd turned up at her place with one thing on his mind, because it was very far from the truth. He'd never for one moment expected this to happen, hadn't come there anticipating anything at all in fact. A sort of gut instinct fueled by alcohol had induced his arrival on her doorstep.
He didn't really know what he'd been thinking but suspected he hadn't been thinking in the least bit clearly. If he'd given it any rational thought, Jack probably wouldn't be there at all.
"Oh?" she queried and although he wasn't a man given to blushing, Jack felt heat infusing his cheeks. Guilt, perhaps, at what he had considered doing with Dee Dee, which he thought ridiculous to say the least. It wasn't like anything had actually happened after all.
Nevertheless, that sense of discomfiture and shame had an impact. Once again, he could feel the obvious signs of his desire waning and Jack cursed inwardly. This time it would be more than evident to Sam as well. He was beginning to believe making love to her was getting beyond his reach and the more that thought occurred to him the worse it was likely to get.
Jack could see Sam was aware of his unease because she was openly gazing at its physical effects, which made him feel even more awkward. He was wishing men weren't cursed with having to keep their recalcitrant bodies under control. It seemed he'd just lost command of his.
"I swear!" he proclaimed wondering what she was thinking.
Abruptly, she tore her eyes away, her mind racing with the unthinkable. Sam didn't imagine Jack to be the kind of man who walked around with condoms in his jeans' pocket just in case. This made her wonder what he'd been doing the previous night before arriving on her doorstep smashed out of his head.
She felt a pang of irrational jealousy, not relishing the idea that he might have been with another woman and then turned up with expectations about pursuing a relationship with her.
"You weren't with some other woman before you came here last night were you?" she asked in a slightly peevish tone.
Despite nothing having happened with Dee Dee, Jack gulped guiltily, standing stock still for a few moments with his desire evaporating even more rapidly at her question. Sam couldn't help but notice, apparently taking his reaction to mean he had slept with someone before he'd arrived. He could see that hint of disillusionment in her body language as her shoulders drooped a little and she didn't meet his eyes.
"No," he denied trying to keep calm and sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. This was something he didn't really want to get into but he needed her to understand the truth.
"I wasn't with another woman, Carter," he continued when she didn't respond. "I can't deny I considered it. I could have but I didn't. I turned up here instead." He sighed with frustration. "Hell, Sam, why am I even trying to explain? I don't have to justify myself to you because I haven't done anything wrong. Jeez, do you really think I'm the kind of guy who would do this after I'd just had sex with another woman?"
It hurt that she seemed to doubt his integrity because Jack knew he was more honorable than that and thought she should know it too. He did not have many illusions about himself, didn't believe he was god's gift to womankind or anything. In fact, under his often brash exterior, he was more inclined to be self-effacing. Sometimes he might be a bit of an ass but Jack knew treating a woman he loved with such disrespect was not one of his many faults.
Hoping Sam knew better too, he waited for some kind of reaction. Anything, preferably positive - one of the longest few seconds he'd ever had in his life.
The story continues:
It seemed an age before Sam looked up at him but it was probably just a fleeting moment. When she met his eyes, she smiled and took hold of his hand. Now, in place of doubt and disillusionment Jack saw belief, trust and love in her expression. Reassured, he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.
Sam trusted this man absolutely. If he said he hadn't slept with another woman the previous night then it was true. She realized she should have known better, that her doubts were irrational given what she understood about Jack and his personal code of honor. Jealousy, however, is not a rational emotion. She didn't need to reply in words as her eyes said it all, but she spoke anyway, contrite about her short-lived doubts.
"I know you aren't really that type of man Jack. Y-you probably wouldn't be here if you'd done that. You wouldn't have expected." She paused hesitantly for a moment to frame her response but still felt lacking. "Well. you know. this, us. I guess maybe I am a bit jealous of the idea you might have been with someone else last night. Insecure."
"Insecure?" Jack queried looking surprised and reaching to stroke her lightly on the cheek with the backs of his fingers. "What happened to my super confident go-getting Sam?"
Slightly self-conscious and appearing more than a little gawky, her face reddened and Jack thought she looked even more adorable than usual. "Not as super confident and go-getting as I appear I suppose," she responded tittering nervously. "Disappointed?"
Smiling crookedly, he stared at her tenderly for a moment before bending closer to brush her forehead with his lips. "Never. You can trust me."
"Hell, Jack, I do trust you." She sighed, letting his hand go and fretting with her hair instead. Knowing her initial reaction to the condoms had ruined their moment of passion, Sam felt the need to explain. "You have to admit your reaction made you appear guilty of something." She indicated quotes with her fingers on uttering the word guilty.
"I felt guilty even though nothing happened. Felt bad about being tempted when you were on my mind." Sam opened her mouth to say something but he hushed her by pressing a finger softly to her lips. "You shouldn't ever feel insecure about us because I'll always be here. You're stuck with me babe, or did I imagine that commitment thing we agreed to earlier?" With a solemnly loving expression on his face, Jack rested his palm on her cheek and she grinned, pushing her face into his hand.
"A small twinge of insecurity every now and again isn't so ridiculous is it?" she asked and he shook his head, completely understanding where she was coming from. He'd been there and probably would be again. "Look, whatever did or didn't happen last night or at any time before you came here isn't really any of my business is it? We weren't even together. Besides, I'm not in the greatest position to be either insecure or jealous am I? Not after, well."
She shrugged her shoulders in a helpless kind of way and, realizing she was thinking about the cop and betrayal, Jack stroked her cheek again in a reassuring manner.
"Shhh. Don't go there," he muttered placing the palm of her hand against his lips and kissing it. "I thought we'd agreed not to pick over those old bones."
Of course he'd been hurt by her engagement but none of that mattered now. They were where they were and he was happy to be there.
"You're the only woman I'm really interested in, Carter. No need for that green-eyed monster. I get being jealous, believe me, but the last person on Earth I want to talk about is the cop. As for what did or didn't happen last night, sure it's your business. I was lonely. Hurting. Thinking about you leaving the SGC, about the seemingly unattainable."
He sighed, apparently thinking before continuing. "I don't know... all of that. More. I'm a guy. We think with our dicks for crying out loud." Sam let loose an amused snort at those words, smirking. "I had a chance and nearly took it, but I didn't because of you. I never set out to come here or have any expectations about making love to you or any of this. I came because deep down I wanted to. Because I needed you, Sam. Because I wanted more from you, wanted you in my life. Still do. Always will."
It was a long and revealing speech for Jack, although Sam already realized how he felt about her after their earlier conversation. Nonetheless, he'd acknowledged his need for her in words even if he still hadn't told her he loved her, or not specifically. She wanted to hear him confess those words of love but knew he felt it. He would tell her in time, she thought.
Sam reached for his neck, smoothing her fingers over it while craning hers to kiss him tenderly. Simultaneously, she pulled him toward her on the bed so they ended up lying down together.
"You've got me in your life from here on in, Jack," she whispered.
"I'm a lucky son of a bitch," he replied with a boyishly shy and utterly cute expression on his face.
"Not lucky. You earned these feelings I have for you. Luck has nothing to do with it."
Wrapping his arms around her, Jack hugged her gently then kissed her with way more passion than her tender peck. He was thinking she was wrong, that he was indeed very lucky, but didn't argue. Acute desire surged through him again and his body responded accordingly. Maybe he'd merely regained control but, whatever the cause, all his anxiety vanished.
Toes curling with a thrill of delight, Sam groaned in his mouth when Jack's lips bruised hers and he drove his tongue inside. She sucked on it, making him grunt, and the vibrations from his lustful response caused a minor shockwave to rage through her. She let his tongue escape to explore her mouth further, shivering as it brushed over her teeth gums and down her throat.
Relishing the taste of her, Jack wanted to savor every moment of the kiss, and when she forced her tongue into his mouth, he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. No longer trembling with trepidation but with yearning, his fingers began to explore her body skillfully.
Wanting to familiarize himself with the previously uncharted territory of Sam Carter, he reluctantly pulled back from the kiss and traced his hand's movements with his eyes. Saying nothing, he soaked up the detail of her appearance and her reactions to his gentle touch, thinking about how beautiful she was; how luscious and edible.
Sam softly scrubbed his back with her fingers, watching him drink her in, allowing him free reign with no interference for now and enjoying the rapt attention and admiration revealed clearly in his expression. She was thinking maybe he was right about luck because she certainly felt lucky to have him here with her. Loving her and making love to her. Honored and blessed.
At first, Jack was sweet and gentle, watching enthralled as he denied self-gratification to satisfy her with deftly erotic foreplay. Her ardent pleasure and the avid response of her touch gave him a huge kick, an absolute high. Thus, as he made love to her fully for the first time, he became rapacious, primitively animalistic, almost utterly possessed by need as fervor reduced him to that base condition.
Sam was ecstatic, taken aback by his apparent prowess, surprised at becoming deliciously aroused so quickly again. She'd never experienced anything quite like it before.
Some people might consider her a slightly virginal ice maiden but this was far from the truth. Sam was a woman that appeared over obsessed with her work, but she was a truly passionate person. She wasn't inexperienced, perhaps not as skilful as Jack, but she'd had her moments.
She had suspected Jack was a sensual and giving man and she had been right, but Sam had never anticipated anything quite as enjoyable as this experience. She thought he was amazing, commanding and beautiful. His fiery intensity made her gasp.
Sam whispered his name and Jack prized his eyes open to look at her apologetically. Her rapturous expression became a plea for him to maintain control, but he couldn't hold back any longer.
Perhaps it was desperate need or he had wanted this for far too long, fantasized about it too much, desired her too much. She blew him away. It might even have been the previous night's booze continuing to blight him.
Whatever the reason, he shattered too quickly, his head sinking down onto her breast and then briefly becoming utterly motionless.
Pulling his sweat dampened hair with frustration, Sam cursed aloud and Jack met her eyes. He had wanted perfection but had failed. Enjoyable though their lovemaking had been, wonderful even, he wanted to kick his own ass.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured breathlessly. Jack seldom used the S word and she knew the apology was heartfelt, although this did not help satisfy her urgent longing for fulfillment.
Without even waiting for any kind of response, Jack bit her shoulder softly, resting his chin on the valley between her two breasts and capturing her gaze, his eyes watchful once more, his skilful petting gratifying her once again.
The sight of her was spellbinding. Emotions engulfed him that he hadn't felt for such a long time he had almost forgotten they existed. His love for Sam intensified beyond anything he recalled, even with Sara who had been the great love of his life. Or so he had believed.
Whatever, he was overcome and Jack swiftly wrapped his arms around Sam and held her as close as he could. She responded by brushing her fingers through his hair and over his neck.
"I wished. I wanted." he started, thinking how much he regretted that their first time making love had not been the perfection he had sought. Good, sure, great even, but not as great as he had wanted. "I wanted you too much Sam. I couldn't control myself. I'm sorry."
Sam was surprised to hear that S word from his lips again so quickly. "You don't have anything to be sorry about Jack. That was."
"Not what I wanted. Not perfect."
She chuckled, unable to help herself. "Pretty darned close. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh." She gave him a gentle hug, concerned he might be fretting about it. "I know what you men and your egos can be like. You don't have to prove anything to me."
"My ego is fine. I'm not hung up on it. I know I can do better than that. Way better. Next time," he promised.
"I have a feeling that the next time will be fairly soon, Mr Cocky." Following his clearly cheerful lead, she used a gently mocking tone. He grunted a laugh, continuing to hold her but loosening his grip slightly and pulling away to gaze into her eyes with a grin on his face.
"Cocky, huh? Maybe I've got good reason to be." His smirk held a hint of self-mockery.
"Egotistical, self-assured." she muttered jokily.
"Handsome, charming." he retorted humorously.
She laughed. If any other man had said that Sam might have thought they were seriously bigheaded, which probably would have been a turn off. Jack, however, was not the sort of person who would look in the mirror and say to himself 'You're a hot, handsome fella O'Neill!' Or not without an ironic twinkle in his eye.
Those who knew no better might think him an arrogant man, and he could be. One of his loveable traits, however, was his humility. Hell, Sam thought, knowing Jack he probably believed she could do way better than hooking up with General Jonathan O'Neill. He simply wasn't the kind of man to believe he was god's gift to women. So, she realized he was only kidding around. Jack-like humor, another endearing characteristic. Something else she loved about the man.
Kissing his cheek she said, "Funny thing is I think you might well have good reason to be cocky."
He shrugged looking slightly self-conscious. "Well, people have said. woman have said. I'm just sayin'. You'll find out soon enough, I guess."
Snuggling up close to him and feeling at peace, Sam quietly pondered how much she was looking forward to that. It was almost as if they had always been this way, lying in each other's arms. She liked that a lot. Nevertheless, no matter how comfortable Sam felt with him or how well she might think she knew him, evidently she still had a lot to learn about Jack O'Neill. The prospect was exciting.
"You were right about sex being a hangover cure," he mumbled.
"I'll look you up next time I get drunk," she joked with a grin and he glanced at her doubtfully.
"You, get drunk? Now that is something I have to see!" Having just witnessed one version of an out of control Carter, the sensual lovemaking variant, the idea of seeing her lose control in a different way appealed. He had a hard time picturing Sam drunk. She didn't drink that much alcohol as far as he'd ever been able to determine. "Have you ever actually been intoxicated?"
Sam laughed heartily. "Only by you, my love," she retorted with tongue firmly in cheek and Jack chuckled, giving her an appreciative squeeze at the humorous rejoinder. "Are you suggesting you've never seen me lose control, Jack?"
"I think I just did."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet," she replied with a passable impersonation of Al Jolson whose catchphrase this had been and Jack spluttered a laugh in response.
"You are something else, you know that Carter?"
"You too, sir."
After grinning inanely at each other for a while, Jack affectionately kissed the tip of Sam's nose before nuzzling into her neck. Lapsing into silence, they remained tranquilly quiet for a long time after that, sated and happy to lie there simply holding each other. Neither of them had felt this content in what seemed like forever. It was like coming home, very natural.
"I love you Jack," she whispered eventually and he didn't respond with words, instead acknowledging them by squeezing her arm, stroking her with the tips of his fingers and kissing her lightly on the neck.
She was slightly disappointed when he didn't say he loved her too, still longing to hear the words from his lips. It was silly, she realized, because she knew he did, but that wasn't the point. Knowing and being told are two different things, she thought.
Then she heard Jack whimper softly and regarded him with surprise at that sweet sound coming from his mouth, quickly realizing he'd actually dozed off contentedly. She smiled, kissing the top of his head lovingly and closing her eyes thinking about how much she adored him and how happy she was they were finally a couple.
It felt real good, like a dream come true. Snuggling up to him, she soon joined him in that world of sleeping and unreal dreams. Frankly, the reality was better.
Present day, a few weeks later:
Now, here they were in Las Vegas, the marriage capital of the world, and about to do the deed. No one knew they were there. Their union was an elopement of sorts - a rapid tying of the knot before Jack's new posting restored Sam to his chain of command.
They felt slightly guilty about not telling their friends what they planned. Sam knew they would be a bit pissed. Daniel, her family: Mark, his wife and kids. If her dad had been alive, perhaps she would have insisted others be present. He would have been happy for her and she would have wanted him to do the fatherly thing and be there for her. She couldn't have handled his disappointment at them running off without saying anything.
Her dad was gone, however, and she tried not to let that sad fact spoil her present upbeat mood. She'd got more years with him than she might have and they'd grown appreciably closer during his unnaturally extended life, a huge comfort.
Jack was the most important man in her life from here on in and always would be. She glanced at him again as the limo he'd hired drove them to the wedding chapel they'd chosen. He looked so handsome, smartly dressed in his dark blue suit, happy and self-satisfied. Sam had never seen him look as cheerful as she had over the last few weeks. It pleased her enormously that their changed status as a couple made him as happy.
He caught Sam looking out of the corner of his eye and threw her a heart-stopping smile. His eyes wandered to appraise her bright pink outfit again obviously appreciating what he saw. She smiled back, lacing her arm through his.
"Still feeling wired?" she asked. Back in their hotel room, Jack had used this phrase to describe his groom like state of panic and Sam deliberately chose the same words. He shook his head.
"Nope," he replied truthfully, his groom-like butterflies having flown away and left him with a level of anticipatory excitement but no more nervous jitters. He'd even managed to resign himself to the unruly grey hair he'd spent precious time trying to tame. Sam seemed to love it sticking out all over the place like that, so he thought what the hell? Who needs total perfection on their wedding day, right? It simply wasn't the usual way of things with weddings. "Feels like the most natural thing in the world to be marrying you."
"I know what you mean. You've no idea how happy that makes me feel."
"Let's not get into a pissing contest about who's feeling happiest, okay?" he joked with a wink and she laughed.
"I love you, babe," he added more seriously leaning over to peck her cheek.
"Backatchya, old man," she replied. Grinning inanely, she tenderly squeezed his arm, recalling the first time he'd uttered those words, when he eventually had.
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A few weeks earlier:
Sam met him at the airport, the first time they'd managed to get together since she'd moved, and she anticipated seeing him again with excitement. Her stomach growled and rumbled with nervous tension, not caused by anxious qualms just thrilling expectations.
Jack was the most alluringly attractive man she'd ever met in her life. There was something indescribably enthralling about simply being in the same room with him. He was a very physical person; handsome, sexy and sensual. A bright light of a presence, and sometimes she just couldn't keep her eyes off him.
The few days they spent their spare time together before her transfer had been a revelation. Sam had never anticipated the reality of Jack. Almost everything she could have wished for both in and out of the bedroom.
He had not been lying when he'd told her he could do way better making love to her than that first time. Cocky, arrogant and self-assured he might have sounded, but it certainly was with good cause. Sam knew he'd been kidding around but his lighthearted bragging was accurate and he'd proved it in no uncertain terms.
It was very clear that he adored making love to her, making her feel good and satisfying her, and he did so with an enthusiasm and athleticism that might have surprised her in a man half his age. Jack also seemed to love what she did to him. He found her beautiful, sexy and sensual too -gratifyingly mutual admiration and delight.
Jack was an adventurous lover and had not confined their lovemaking to the bedroom. He had taught her quite a lot about the sexual act in those few days and encouraged Sam's inner passion to blossom with a vengeance. Thus, she responded to his zeal, doing things to him that she'd never done to a man before, and Jack loved it. It seemed they sparked off each other sexually, which was terrific.
He was a very tactile person, affectionate, even a touch romantic, which was something she had never expected from O'Neill the arch cynic and pragmatist. They might not have spent all that spare time making love but outside of those wondrous hours, he loved to touch her even in a small way.
Jack would stop whatever they were doing, often the most mundane of things, and turn to look at her. He'd smile, approach and kiss her briefly on her cheek, her hair, her nose or lips. He'd hug her, take her hand in his and squeeze, softly grasp her arm, run his fingers lightly over her neck. Tangible demonstrations of his deep held feelings.
This moved Sam to do likewise with him, unselfconsciously and ardently in a way she had never done with any previous lover. Their mutual responses drove them ever closer, more intimate than anything she'd experienced before.
So, Jack not only taught her much about the sexual act, he showed her a lot about intimacy and love too. She learned much about herself, what unexpectedly lurked inside Samantha Carter waiting to come out. He brought it out and she loved him even more intensely for that.
For his part, Jack was in as deep as he could ever get. Setting his feelings free liberated him in ways he had not considered possible for many years. He loved and admired Sam with an abandon he sometimes believed unseemly for a man of his relatively advanced years. That was when he thought about it at all, which most of the time he didn't. He simply did what came intuitively, what Sam inspired him to do, and it felt natural to do it.
Thus, this relationship was a revelation to him as well. He couldn't have felt much happier and content with her in his life this way. She moved him as if a fresh summer breeze had entered his life and allowed him to breathe freely again after many years of struggling for air. He could relax with her, be him, and believed that if Sam had not been as candid and forward that first day things might have been different.
There probably would have been more unease between them as they adjusted to the novelty of becoming lovers. She had released them from all of that, quickly and powerfully intensifying the already strong bonds they had forged as close colleagues and sometime friends. It was gratifyingly refreshing.
In the past, Sam often appeared too uptight and out of reach but she wasn't like that at all it seemed. Jack liked to think maybe he had freed her and allowed her to breathe too, which pleased him immeasurably.
Now, as he landed at the airport to meet up with her in the flesh for the first time since she'd left, Jack was as excited as she was. He'd always considered himself a level-headed kind of guy but Sam made that level head of his soar among clouds. Like her, his stomach flipped and flopped with eager anticipation and by the time he reached airport arrivals, he wasn't sure his heart would handle the acute adrenalin rush.
Then he spotted her and to his surprise gasped aloud, almost like a sigh of longing. His face lit up at the sight and he grinned, but Jack wasn't a man who went for showy public greetings. He did not rush toward her and throw his arms around her like a cliched scene in a romantic movie, although his heart might have dictated he should. Instead, he approached at a normal pace, dropped his weekend bag and gave her a brief bear hug and peck on the lips, keeping his exhilaration tightly locked away.
Taking his lead, and because Sam wasn't one for overly dramatic public demonstrations either, when he loosened his grip she met his eyes and smiled warmly. Briefly, her fingers smoothed over his cheek as if seeking confirmation he was actually there.
Then they stood unspeaking and simply staring at each other, continuing to say nothing when they finally broke eye contact and made their way out of the airport arm in arm. They said very little too as she drove them to her new place. Their silence, however, was not an uneasy, awkward one but the kind that stemmed from a feeling of shared understanding and intimacy.
Jack kept glancing at her as she drove, very happy to see her at last. Sam caught him peeking every now and then and they would exchange goofy grins. Once they made it over her threshold into their own private world, he didn't contain his excitement any longer. Barely looking at their surroundings, he swiftly pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her with deep passion. They had only just about made it through her front door.
Although the warm hug made it obvious, Jack didn't say anything about how much he had missed her or wanted her. What he said instead was almost entirely astonishing.
"God, I love you, Sam," he whispered in her ear, kissing her hair.
Slightly overwhelmed by this first utterance of those words, for a moment Sam froze with thrilled shock. The declaration seemed to come out of nowhere and was totally unexpected. When he withdrew from his embrace, Jack noticed tears forming in her eyes. Grasping her chin affectionately, he turned her head up to face his.
"Hey, what's all this?" he asked, softly running a thumb under one of her eyes. She sniffed, feeling somewhat foolish about her reaction to the affirmation of love she already knew to be true. "You knew didn't you?" he queried and she nodded.
"But you never said it before."
"They're only words." He appeared to be studying her, slightly taken aback by her reaction.
"Important words."
"I'm not so good with the important words," he replied with a vaguely rueful expression and tone.
"You can be a bit clueless sometimes but I love you anyway."
He smiled. "Clueless? Me?" he retorted with amusement. She was right. Maybe he should have confessed his feelings before now but Jack thought they were obvious after the time they'd spent together a few weeks previously. "I'm nuts about you, Sam," he added, attempting to re-emphasize the point. "Certifiable. We're committed, right?" His eyes bored into hers making her shiver with delight.
"Till death us do part," she replied in a quavering, emotional voice and Jack pulled her into his arms again.
"I show you how I feel, don't I?" he asked seriously and he felt her head nod agreement.
"Demonstrably."
"So if I don't say it you know I feel it, right?" He was whispering softly, brushing her ear with his breath, and Sam sighed with longing.
"It's good to hear it anyway."
"I'll bear that in mind."
They pushed away from each other again and Sam offered him a quirky grin, gently reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "You know what they say. True love is sharing a toothbrush and you did that on that very first morning."
"They say that do they?" he retorted with a chuckle. "And I always thought love was never having to say you're sorry. I'm disillusioned - and I failed that test. Good to know I passed with the toothbrush."
She laughed at his reference to that old movie, "Love Story" and his quip. Sam loved his sense of humor and it was very typical of Jack to divert such an intense moment with it. She loved that about him too.
Taking her hand, he tugged, and although he had never been inside this house before, led her straight into her living room and indicated she should sit on the couch with him beside her. He cupped her cheek in the flat of his hand and she looked at him with heart thumping rapidly, thrilled he was there, elated by his declaration.
So far, Jack had been full of surprises - mostly good ones. A range of emotions surged through her making Sam's heart flutter and her stomach churn as badly as they had at the airport.
"I remember telling you I couldn't love you more than I do right now," she said, harking back to that first morning. "I was wrong Jack. I do love you more."
"That's.um. really cool," he responded thinking it an understatement and eyeing her with mischievous grin. "So where's the bedroom?"
"You want the guided tour?" she asked, deliberately misconstruing him.
"Don't play coy, Sam. You know exactly what I want." To demonstrate, he sank his teeth into her neck and ran his hands under her top, starting to undo her bra. Sam grunted softly, moaning in his ear as the bra loosened and he fondled a breast. "You're lucky I didn't do this in the hall."
"I might have enjoyed that."
Glancing at her, he waggled his eyebrows. "Right up against the wall," he muttered breathlessly, trailing his hands over her back.
"We haven't tried that yet."
Jack made a mental note of this fact, adding it to his list of things he wanted to do with Samantha Carter and continuing to caress her. Abruptly, he lifted her top to kiss her bare flesh while a hand moved to unzip her jeans.
"Going too fast for ya?" he asked as his tongue wandered over her midriff.
"Never," she whispered longingly, pulling on his top to access his bare back. "Just give me a chance to respond."
"You seem pretty darned responsive to me." Nevertheless, he pulled away to allow her to manhandle him anyway she pleased. Whatever she did, Jack knew he would be enthralled. He loved virtually everything about her, even the parts he never imagined he would.
She was a fascinating woman, and as sensuous as anyone he'd ever had the privilege of making love to, possibly more so. If it was Sam making the moves, he couldn't be more delighted and turned on by them. She had fine, agile hands and a way of using her mouth that was to die for. During those first few days they'd spent together, it seemed almost all she had to do was whisper in his ear and he was ready for sex.
Quickly, she whipped his t-shirt right off, pushing him down onto the couch. Straddling his thighs, she paused to look at him admiringly, lightly running her fingertips over his bare chest.
"I don't know how I kept my hands off you for all those years."
He grinned with pleasure. "Well, now you don't have to and they are welcome to do whatever they want to me anytime, babe."
"Have I ever told you that I hate being called babe?" she asked without rancor. Nor did her fingers cease their meandering.
He didn't look surprised or in the least regretful about referring to her that way. "No. You think that means I'll stop saying it?"
"No." She knew Jack better than that. In fact, Sam realized she probably should have kept her big mouth shut on the subject because he was almost certain to use the endearment from now on simply to wind her up.
"Right. Just as long as we understand each other, babe." Typically, Jack emphasized the word she professed to hate in a sarcastic manner.
"Just as long as you know I hate it."
"Stop moaning and get on with it, babe," he replied, his eyes twinkling with roguish merriment, and Sam knew she had to find a way of turning the tables on her lover. "I haven't seen you in weeks."
"Getting desperate, old man?" she said in the sweetest, most innocent tone she could muster. Jack's responding grimace was short-lived but enough for Sam to understand that she'd hit a nerve. It satisfied her to know they were now on an even footing.
Jack didn't comment but got the message. She would probably call him 'old man' whenever he called her 'babe'. So be it. If she wanted to play word games, he could fight his corner with the best of them, but it might be more prudent to try and remember not to call her babe.
He loved that Sam didn't let him get away with anything if she didn't want him to. She could fight her corner as well. An admirable trait. He'd been her CO for so long that he had wondered whether she'd let him dominate her too much. Not so and their relationship would be all the better for it, he thought. Jeez, he loved this woman.
"Getting desperate? Moi?" he retorted, pointedly ignoring her 'old man' jibe. "Let's just say that my right hand could do with a rest," he responded with a light laugh.
"Jack!" she exclaimed and he could have sworn she was blushing.
"What? There something wrong with that? I've gotta get my rocks off somehow when you aren't around, babe. Don't tell me you don't do it?"
"Sure I do, old man," she responded with a mocking smile and Jack reacted with a grin. "I don't really talk about it though."
"I bet you look real hot doing it. I'd love to watch." He shot her a lascivious leer.
"Really? Oh my." She paused for a moment, her blush deepening. Then, thinking about it, she nodded. "Okay, you got a deal. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
She winked and Jack laughed heartily. This relationship is going to be a blast, he thought. The fact that Sam was willing to try almost anything once appealed to him, and why wouldn't it?
"Come on. Bedroom." he suggested, and she quirked an eyebrow, surprised he didn't simply want to have sex right there on her couch. Nevertheless, she got up, taking the lead to show him where her bedroom was.
When they entered the hall, he surprised her, taking her breath away by slamming her against the wall. Not violently but certainly forcefully, sufficiently to cause her to gasp aloud and cry out with astonishment. She said nothing, meeting his broodingly dark eyes, and Jack stared at her for what seemed like long moments.
"You did say we'd never done this before," he said, his expression seeking agreement to his plan.
Again, Sam didn't speak. Instead, she whimpered softly, bit her bottom lip and clutched his back, firmly kneading it with her fingers. Her warm breath breezed over his face like a gently refreshing zephyr and Jack could detect pleasure and lust in her eyes. He smiled wickedly, his desire upping a notch, if not many notches.
"You are so gonna enjoy this," he murmured, thrusting his hips forward and pressing into her groin.
Groaning lustfully Sam was thinking he was probably right about that. Life with Jack was going to be one heck of a ride.
Jack maintained eye contact with an impassioned and piercing gaze and she moaned as he continued to press himself against her. Pausing to yank Sam's jeans and panties down to her ankles, he squatted to help her step out of them. He so wanted to take her up against that wall. Half his mind had been lingering lasciviously on the notion ever since he'd mentioned it.
When he rose to his feet, she undid his fly and pushed his pants down his thighs as his eyes found hers again. Pausing for a moment, he sucked in a breath and briefly closed them, kissing her before forcefully grasping her thighs and butt and lifting her off the floor.
Jack's dark avaricious eyes peered into her fair ones as if he was seeking permission to continue, asking if she was okay, and when her ravenous gaze confirmed her desire, a small smile quirked at Jack's lips. Powerful forces surged through him as he started their lustful lovemaking.
His hot, staccato breath whipped over her neck and whispered in her ear, making her tremble. His potency affected her deeply, arousing her. He bit into her neck and someone screeched with joy. It took a few seconds for Sam to realize it was her.
Jack took great enjoyment from her pleasure. His gluttony for this woman knew no bounds, he thought, wanting her more and more with every moment they were both together and apart. Like an addiction, a deep seated itch that constantly needed scratching. He didn't know how he had managed to get through the past few weeks without a fix.
To Sam's surprise, once he'd satisfied her need, Jack didn't let himself go but gently eased her back to the floor and pushed away.
"What about you?" she asked. He didn't reply, merely continuing to stare into her eyes, and Sam smiled, running a finger down his clammy hot cheek. "My turn to do some hard work, huh?" she said, pinching his ass with her other hand.
To his astonishment, instead of leading him off to her bedroom, she maneuvered him back into the living room. Pushing him into a sitting position on her couch Sam straddled him, teasing him mercilessly.
Jack drew in a deep breath through his teeth and grunted erratically as he expelled the air but he still didn't speak. Sam knew what she was doing. He trusted her to finish it for him exquisitely, eventually. Meanwhile he was certain it would be an exhilarating ride.
His eyes widened with a look of disgruntled surprise as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him instead of ending his dissatisfaction as he desired. Then he closed his eyes, welcoming her wriggling tongue into his mouth and resigning himself to the potential frustration of her seduction. The final reward would undoubtedly be worth the wait.
Her kiss slowed as her tongue languidly explored his mouth then withdrew to lick sensually around his lips and continue on to smooth over the contours of his face. He tasted of salty perspiration and smelled of something she thought unique, maybe pheromones, maybe sex, maybe just O'Neill masculinity. She liked it. Always had, but until recently had never been as close to it.
Pulling her head back a little, she inhaled deeply, snuffling at the flesh of his face and neck. "You smell good," she whispered and Jack smiled faintly.
"You too." Filled with need and frustration, his voice croaked. "For Christ sakes, Sam."
She tittered. "You men are so impatient," she said, lunging into his neck and sucking. Jack grunted.
"Sam!"
"Patience, Jack." she replied and then continued to suck and bite his neck and shoulders. One of her hands trailed down his sweaty chest, pausing at a nipple and tweaking it with her fingers. Jack squawked.
"Sam, please!" he begged throatily but she was determined to draw out his agony to heighten his ecstasy.
Eventually, she drew away from his neck, pulling her head back to look at him. Head slumped against the back of her couch, Jack had his eyes closed. His face was heated pink with a fine layer of perspiration and his tongue hung out of his mouth in a drool. Sam thought he looked stunningly gorgeous like that, oblivious to her enthralled gaze, caught in the moment.
"Don't stop!" he cried out.
"You love it, don't you?" she asked in a husky tone.
"Yes," he hissed in response.
"You want it to go on and on don't you?"
"Yes. No! Yes. God, please." His voice held more than a tinge of desperation.
"Close your eyes, Jack." He obeyed, sighing his frustration but saying nothing and she kneaded his chest, dipping her head to nuzzle his damp warm neck, deliberately taking a deep breath of his scent once more.
Sam was good at this, instinctively seeming to get it, or to get him anyway. She had an uncanny knack of tuning into his body. The ability to reel him in and keep him dangling on the end of her hook. Jack might be gasping for air as she played with him, but each moment was blissfully excruciating. He wanted her to finish it yet simultaneously wished for it to go on forever. He wanted to live and experience every agonizing moment of this earthly heaven.
Each nerve of his body tingled with life, more life than he had lived in an age. She assailed his senses - her earthy scent, her core essence, infiltrated and overwhelmed him. It was truly wonderful, fundamentally beautiful. Sam might jokingly call him "old man" but she made him feel quite the opposite. Invigorated.
She forced herself to open her eyes and watch him, determined to witness his pleasure. He had told her she looked incredible when they made love but would probably never understand why she felt exactly the same way about him. In her eyes, he was stupendous. Breathtaking.
After the long slow burn, eventually they were both sated and Sam collapsed on top of him as he enclosed her in his arms and they stilled.
"Oh my god," he muttered, giving her a grateful and satisfied squeeze. "That was so worth waiting for."
Sam smiled happily, carefully easing off him and curling up on the couch by his side. He wrapped an arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, softly rubbing a thumb over his wiry grey chest hairs.
"I never imagined it would be like this, Jack," she said after a few moments contemplative silence.
"What did you imagine?" he asked curiously.
"Nothing as good as this. I never knew what I was capable of, never knew." She tailed off, lifting her head off his shoulder and meeting his eyes. "You've always brought out the best in me," she said.
"Bah!" he replied with a quirky smile and an amused snort. "You meant beast not best, right?" He waggled his eyebrows in a wildly exaggerated manner and Sam tittered obligingly at his jokey play on words.
"I'm serious," she persisted, still smirking at his tease but wishing to make her point. "You made me a better officer, a different person, and now you're making me a better woman."
He shook his head, a more somber expression on his face. "No, Sam, not me. That's all you. It was always you."
Kissing him on the cheek, she ran her fingers through his sweat sodden hair.
"You freed me," she claimed and he looked surprised, then pleased. Sam wondered what he was thinking. Confused by his differing facial expressions, she wondered if he didn't comprehend what she was trying to say, but then she wasn't certain how to clarify either. "I'm not sure I can explain what I mean," she added.
Nodding, Jack thought he understood her loss for words. He probably got what she meant too because he recalled thinking something like it himself - that Sam had freed him. Freed him to live, to be what he wanted with the person he wanted, and she had given him renewed zest for that life as well.
When they were together, something magical happened between them. Jack could not fathom the depths of it any more than he could grasp the intricacies of quantum physics - or at least any more than he wished to have a handle on them. He didn't need to understand, he simply needed to know the reality and this was something Jack knew perfectly well.
"I think I get it," he replied, squeezing her lovingly. She shivered and, feeling it, he asked, "You cold? Wanna get dressed?"
"I think I'd rather sit here buck naked with you for a while," she said with an admiring leer. "How about you?"
He grunted with amusement. "Buck naked is fine by me. I like looking at you without any clothes on. It's quite an eye full. Two eyes full." He regarded her with an appreciative grin that was every bit as smutty as her own. "As for me." He patted his expanding stomach regretfully. "Well, I've put on a little weight while sitting behind that desk. Not so great to look at. I'm getting old." He sighed and she reached over to pat his stomach too.
"Not old, old man," she countered in a humorous manner and he smiled. From someone else, the 'old man' might have seemed an insult but not from Sam. He knew she didn't mean it that way. She'd turned the words into something of a pet name and he kind of liked that. "Besides, I don't care. From where I'm sitting, you are looking good."
"Note to self: remind Carter to get her eyes checked," he quipped but she didn't laugh, instead running her fingers down his cheek.
"You'll always be hot to me."
"Ack!" he exclaimed, waving his hand dismissively and promising himself he'd spend more time trying to get back into better shape. He didn't want to let himself go but it got increasingly hard to keep fit and trim now he was mainly desk bound. Not to mention being well past that fifty year landmark where everything starts going downhill faster. On the other hand, he figured if he was still fit enough to make love to Sam up against her hallway wall, he wasn't doing quite as badly as he sometimes imagined.
Sam moved to caress his upper arm. "I couldn't be much happier, Jack. Just the way you are."
He snorted. "Tell me that in twenty years, babe."
She tittered lightly, enjoying the ease with which they had developed these pet names. Jack's recently acquired habit of calling her "babe" was growing on her.
"I will, old man," she said with a grin although her intent was quite serious. "The only thing that could be better is seeing each other more often. Spending more time together."
"Yeah? About that." he bit his bottom lip suspecting Sam would not take this notion very well. "I'm wondering about retiring."
"You can't!" she replied vehemently. Pulling back from their close embrace, and propping herself up on one arm, Jack could see her eyes had widened in horror. He wasn't surprised she baulked at the idea.
"Why not? I could be wherever you have to be," he argued.
For a brief moment, she seemed flummoxed and then countered with, "We've never put our personal lives above the mission."
"That's part of my point. Maybe it's time to start."
She shook her head, not quite able to get her head around the notion of Jack retiring so he could be with her. It was astounding - flattering, sure, but also astonishing.
"No, Jack. I want to be with you as much as possible but we both still have important work to do. We need you right where you are at the SGC."
Gesticulating in a dismissive manner, he chuckled. Even his laugh held a tinge of sarcasm. "Oh puhleeze! Pushing paper? I'd be better off out of it."
In some ways, Sam wasn't surprised he felt like that. She knew he still missed the old team days, the missions. She even thought he might have suffered a few crises of confidence during his stint in command of the SGC, although he had rarely if ever shown it, even to his friends. Nevertheless, she was determined not to let him off the hook.
"You do way more than just pushing paper and you know it. You'd be bored within a couple of days. You've been there and done that retiring thing."
Jack heaved a sigh. "Long time ago. My life was totally different then. You weren't in it. I didn't have quite as much to look forward to. Fighting the fight has been my life for so long maybe I'm overdue for a change. And I get bored at the SGC for crying out loud."
She peered at him searchingly trying to work how serious he was. "Bored? Bullshit. You love it. I would never forgive myself if you gave it all up for me, and you might never forgive me," she replied before he could open his mouth.
"Sam."
"I don't want us ending up arguing about this in the future. I don't want you to end up resenting me."
That caught him by surprise and he appeared genuinely puzzled. "Resenting you? You're kidding right?" He could plainly see she wasn't. "We're arguing about it right now!"
"Then let's settle it and move on. Forget retiring."
"What, you won't let me?" he retorted snarkily, immediately regretting his tone. "It's my decision to make, Sam," he added more gently.
"Of course it is. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm asking you not to do something we might both live to regret."
He thought for a while before responding, sighing as he opened his mouth to reply. "You might be right. I would be bored. I just hate being stuck inside that mountain when you're miles away."
Sam didn't for one minute genuinely believe he actually hated his job but said, "If you hate the job so much maybe you should retire, but not for me, Jack, for you. It's not my decision but I meant what I said about needing you right where you are. You're one of the few people on this planet who can truly appreciate what the Stargate program means, to Earth, to the people who work in the program, to the people that risk their lives out there everyday." She waved a hand up toward the heavens. "Who's gonna fight our corner better than you?"
He smiled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sam, but sometimes I think I'm exactly the wrong person to be fighting that corner. Politics and diplomacy aren't really my thing, are they?"
This was an irony unappreciated at the time given that, a few weeks later, Jack would end up with an additional star on his uniform as Head of Homeworld Security in Washington D.C. The posting would entail way more politics and diplomacy than his command at the SGC, not to mention more paperwork, but neither of them knew about that then. Later they would chuckle about this conversation and recognize how ironic it all was.
Grinning, she pecked him on the cheek. "There's more to the job than politics and diplomacy too. You're doing okay, aren't you? I know I feel better, safer, with you doing the job. You're the right man in the right place. Everyone at the SGC thinks so."
Her faith in him was gratifying, although perhaps a little misguided he thought. Arguing about that would get them nowhere so he harked back to his original inspiration for the retirement notion.
"Staying doesn't solve the problem of us being apart too much of the time, Sam."
"A nice thought it might be but I will be pissed if I'm the reason you give it all up," she argued. "We're both military. We go where we're needed, where they tell us to. The Air Force could post me anywhere. Much further away. But I've no intention of giving it up for you."
He stared at her for a while, smoothing a finger over her cheek. "You know I wouldn't want you to do that."
"Well, there we are then. We're like minded on the subject."
Jack had to admit she had him there. Maybe he didn't want to retire. He didn't really hate the job, just got pissed off with certain aspects of it. That was true of all jobs, wasn't it? Nothing's perfect and he certainly wasn't perfect at doing nothing.
He would probably hate sitting on his ass doing zilch. That was what vacations were for. The bottom line was he missed having Sam around and this was both a good and a bad motive for throwing in the towel. There were many excellent reasons to keep a tight grip on that towel. Importantly, as Sam said, he had been out there and knew what his subordinates faced day to day. Not many generals could say that. None in fact.
He resigned himself to thinking about it more, giving it more time - as if they hadn't wasted enough of that already, but this wasn't the point. Sam was right and he knew it.
"So what are we gonna do?" he asked and Sam could see from his eyes that she'd won the argument, at least for now. It pleased her a lot because having Jack leave the program seemed unthinkable to her.
"Make the best of it like we always have," she replied.
"And what if the best isn't good enough?"
"It will be."
"You seem pretty damned sure." Her confidence in them reminded him of that first morning they'd spent together and her surprisingly forward manner. She'd seemed so certain about them.
"Because I am. Our careers might get in the way of us but let's not allow us to get in the way of us."
Jack liked that phrase and rolled it around in his head for a while before replying. "Mmmm. okay. and what's plan B wise one?" he responded in a lightheartedly sarcastic tone.
She giggled. "No plan, Jack, A, B or otherwise. Just live life."
"Wow. Profound," he said with a huge smile.
"Yeah, deep." She tittered then smirked and Jack laughed.
"C'mere," he urged. She sank into his arms again and Jack wrapped them around her. "I'll always support you, and your career, one hundred percent. You know that don't you?" he added more vocally and she nodded, running a finger down his bare arm and suddenly overwhelmed by the fact she was sitting there in Jack O'Neill's arms. Sometimes their relationship seemed like a dream and sometimes very real indeed. She liked that dreamlike quality, but more so because she knew it genuinely was their new reality.
"If you hadn't got drunk that night I wonder what might have happened," she said as if thinking aloud. Jack wondered too. Forks in the road and fate came to mind. These days the notion of not having this relationship with Sam seemed unimaginable. No matter how much they lived separate lives, she was always there, a big part of his life now. The best thing that could have happened.
"I never could have guessed how much my life was gonna change because I'd had a few too many. Well, more than a few actually but who's counting?" he responded, grunting with glee at the memory.
"It seems I staked my claim at the perfect moment," she replied, lightly kissing his chest and looking up at him with a smirk.
"You mean when I was at my most vulnerable?" he kidded.
Sam replied with a giggle in her voice. "Sure. That's what I do. Prey on vulnerable men." She pinched him lightly and poked her tongue out, making Jack laugh.
With a sudden need to rein in his powerful emotions, he hitched a breath, looking thoughtful and continuing in a bantering, light-hearted manner. "I'm hungry," he said decisively. "Got any cake?"
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The early morning light peeked through her bedroom curtains, beckoning a new day. A day he would be spending with the woman he loved. While Jack wanted to take advantage of it, spend as much time in Sam's company as possible, he realized he was equally content to lie there in her arms watching her peacefully sleeping face.
Observing the sleeping Sam was a pleasure Jack was pretty sure he'd never tire of. Her ethereal snoring made him smile and he gently ran his fingers through her hair not wishing to awaken her, and then planted a soft kiss on her forehead. There was something about simply touching this woman that gave him a thrill, he thought.
While watching, he was thinking she had a cute little nose and adorable lips that he could spend a lifetime kissing. Jack wished to introduce himself to the faint brown freckles on her face and get to know each one intimately as if they were his dearest friends. He probably knew most of them already but their acquaintance would become far more intimate over time.
The thought made him drift to the idea of spending the rest of his life with her. This seemed to be what they both wanted and Jack couldn't have been much happier about the concept. Ever since she'd made it, he'd been considering the implications of her sassy proposal that first morning back in the Springs. Sassy was good. In fact, sassy was excellent. Something else about Sam he could gladly spend the rest of his life with.
The previous day they had joked about love: sharing toothbrushes; never having to say you're sorry. Jack, however, had been married for a number of years and knew it had little to do with either of these things. It is waking up next to the same woman every day for years - no make-up, mussed up hair, foul morning breath, armpits and all - and continuing to feel joy. Still wanting to greet her, kiss her and tell her you love her.
Early days, he realized. After all, this was the first time they had physically been together since those fateful days before she left the SGC. Nevertheless, Jack knew for sure he'd feel like that about Sam. Always. He hoped she would feel likewise about him. He couldn't ask for more and didn't take anything for granted, but he suspected she might. It was a lot to ask but it seemed she was willing to try. Trying mattered and her desire to do so was going to change his life for the better irrevocably.
Waking at last and opening her eyes, Sam smiled at him, warming his heart more than anything else on planet Earth could.
"Morning," he said with a grin.
"Morning," she replied, reaching over and brushing his cheek.
Then he kissed her.
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Present day, a few weeks later:
Returning to the very real present and shaking off the memories of that first time he had voiced those three little words and all that followed, Sam glanced over to Jack. He was looking out of the window, seemingly at peace after his attack of pre-wedding jitters in their hotel room, and she wondered what he was thinking. Their marriage was imminent and the notion sent an excited thrill through her.
She'd led an excitement and thrills packed life - travelled to different worlds, encountered alien races, fought evil foe and been privileged to access advanced alien technologies. Engaged twice before, Sam had never made it to the big day, with good reason.
Now, here she was about to marry a man she had believed unattainable only a few short weeks ago. A man who'd made her understand what it truly meant to love, and so much more. The prospect was way more terrifying and exhilarating than almost anything that had happened to her during those action packed years at the SGC.
She was going to marry quite a guy and Sam appreciated what she was getting. Jack seemed to think he wasn't such a big deal, but that was in her future husband's nature. Despite appearances to the contrary, he wasn't the type of man who thought the world revolved around him. Jack coupled his seemingly big ego with an even bigger heart - a generous, caring, fundamentally modest man who gave himself almost wholly to others.
As she watched him staring at the bright lights of Vegas, Sam knew how lucky she was this day had arrived. It had been quite a struggle, years of it, but when it came down to it the inevitable was happening at last and it was happening very quickly indeed. Then Sam realized she had a shit-eating grin on her face.
The limo turned off from the garish Las Vegas Strip and Jack knew this meant they must be getting close to their wedding chapel of choice. He was surprised at how serene he felt. Very soon, he'd be a married man for crying out loud. After his earlier dreadful attack of nerves, when he hadn't even been able to tie his own tie for crying out loud, he hadn't expected to feel quite so at peace immediately before the big event.
Turning back toward Sam, a far more delightful sight to feast his eyes on than Vegas after all, he realized she was staring at him. He wondered what she was thinking about, how nervous she might be feeling, or not, now they were doing the deed.
She looked amazing, so right in her bright pink outfit. He'd never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. It was such an unexpected choice. In his humble opinion, the color highlighted and enhanced her beauty, but he had to admit he was biased. The thought made him ponder what other surprises he might have in store.
Sam continually opened his eyes to a person he had never dreamed she was. Maybe he did the same thing for her. It bothered him slightly because they were getting married so quickly. Their relationship as a couple was very new and they had to become accustomed to each other in wholly different ways to their previous experiences. Jack wasn't certain they knew each other well enough in that respect.
On the other hand, he believed they could make a go of it, work as a couple and be happy, despite those niggling doubts. The bright pink outfit issue was a tiny symptom of that small doubt. He'd rarely seen her out of uniform for pity's sakes, let alone got to know the kinds of clothes she liked to wear, the colors, all of that. What else didn't they know about each other? Clothing was just the tip of the iceberg - the least important unknown.
They'd shared intimacy of a totally different kind for many years. He'd fallen for that person and she had fallen for the Jack O'Neill she had worked with. They had been a team, knew things about each other that people rarely discovered. This made a difference, or he figured it did.
He had to admit he liked the surprises so far. Loved 'em actually. It seemed Sam did too. Maybe it wouldn't always be this way for both of them. They were still in the first flush of love, after all, regardless of their long acquaintance. He was sure they'd find many ways to get on each other's nerves, but what couples didn't?
Whatever, Jack couldn't conceive of a time when those quibbles might make him fall out of love with her. He remained convinced this was forever. Sam was certain too, which was deeply gratifying. Jeez, he was one lucky bastard. What they were about to do was the best reward possible for all those years of pain while fighting the fight.
Occasionally, he pondered whether he truly deserved it but mainly ended up believing he probably did. Sure, he'd done things that probably justified an eternity in hell, but he'd done his best and had good reasons for his actions. Most of the time, he'd been true to Jack O'Neill and a person can't do better than that.
If hell was where he was headed, a small piece of heaven on Earth before he got there had to be good, right? Frankly, though, Jack figured by now he might have earned better than that eternity of torment. Besides, Sam would continue helping him become a better man - someone she very much deserved -as well as much more complete. She, however, did not seem to think he needed any improvement, which was great. Jack figured in that pissing contest about their happiness he'd referred to earlier they might come out just about even.
Jeez, he loved her so much she couldn't possibly know or understand but he'd willingly spend the rest of his life trying to demonstrate it.
Cocking his head and regarding her with a wisp of a smile on his face, he said, "I wanted more for you, Sam. I wanted to give you the best wedding ever. This so isn't it."
Sam pursed her lips, squeezing his arm gently. "It doesn't matter, Jack. I'm marrying you aren't I? So it is the best wedding ever."
Pleased with that thought, Jack grinned happily. He pressed his hand against her cheek and kissed her lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick as the limo pulled up at the wedding chapel they'd chosen.
Briefly, his mind turned to those ifs he'd contemplated many times over the last few weeks. If he hadn't got smashed that night; if he hadn't turned down Dee Dee's advances; if he hadn't got so drunk and disorderly that he'd turned up on Sam's doorstep like he had a right to be there; if she hadn't made him welcome; if she hadn't made the first move that morning. Lots of ifs, but he'd learned over the years that everything seems to happen for a reason. He had a lot to be grateful for and a life to look forward to living - and it started right here, right now, with Sam. Jonathan O'Neill and Samantha Carter were married in a quiet, civil ceremony in an anonymous venue somewhere off the Las Vegas Strip - an approximately four mile stretch of Las Vegas Boulevard South in Las Vegas, Clark County, Nevada.
Their honeymoon lasted precisely two days, five hours, thirty minutes and twenty two seconds, during which time they used the hotel room service ten times and consumed three bottles of champagne. History does not record how many times they made love during those few hours but it is known that the happy couple never left the hotel suite.
When they checked out of their hotel, a limousine picked them up and drove them to Nellis Air Force Base where they parted when O'Neill caught a hop back to Peterson AFB in El Paso County, Colorado Springs, Colorado. Mrs. O'Neill returned to her lab and her latest experiment.
Nine days later, the newly promoted Major General O'Neill moved to Washington D.C. on reassignment. Not long afterward, Lt. Colonel Carter returned to Colorado Springs to rejoin SG-1 in their fight against their newest foe, the Ori - evil twins of the ascended in their own galaxy - and their powerful Priors.
When her superiors later promoted her to full bird Colonel and gave her command of the Atlantis Expedition in the Pegasus Galaxy, it was the longest separation the couple ever endured. Not what Jack might have wished for but he supported her career as promised, always.
Upon her return, they lived happily ever after - as if that ever happens. but they came pretty darned close.
The End
Story Notes: Author's Notes:
1. I have based this fic on the assumption that Sam decides to leave the SGC on transfer to Area 51 before Jack transfers to Washington DC or becomes aware he is going to. When Season 9 starts both of them have already left the SGC so I believe show canon is unclear about the timing of these transfers.
2. I dedicate this story to Betty Hall and Denise Carlson. Betty because her short story "The Kiss" was a huge inspiration for me to write this one. You can read that fic here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4780825/1/The_Kiss Denise because we exchanged emails about my recent angsty fic, "The Future is Unwritten", that got me thinking. All that darned thinking was doing my head in so I wrote this, an antidote to, or perhaps the antithesis of, "The Future is Unwritten".
3. Many thanks to ImmerRDA for her help in beta reading this story. I know her observations and corrections improved my writing. What would I have done without you, Barbara? Any remaining errors are entirely down to me.
I am taking this opportunity to thank ImmerRDA once again for all the hard work she is putting into beta reading this series. Her comments, suggestions and feedback are very helpful and I feel my story is all the better for them. Of course, if I screw up after she's commented I only have myself to blame!
1. I have based this fic on the assumption that Sam decides to leave the SGC on transfer to Area 51 before Jack transfers to Washington DC or becomes aware he is going to. When Season 9 starts both of them have already left the SGC so I believe show canon is unclear about the timing of these transfers.
2. I dedicate this story to Betty Hall and Denise Carlson. Betty because her short story "The Kiss" was a huge inspiration for me to write this one. You can read that fic here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4780825/1/The_Kiss Denise because we exchanged emails about my recent angsty fic, "The Future is Unwritten", that got me thinking. All that darned thinking was doing my head in so I wrote this, an antidote to, or perhaps the antithesis of, "The Future is Unwritten".
3. Many thanks to ImmerRDA for her help in beta reading this story. I know her observations and corrections improved my writing. What would I have done without you, Barbara? Any remaining errors are entirely down to me.
I am taking this opportunity to thank ImmerRDA once again for all the hard work she is putting into beta reading this series. Her comments, suggestions and feedback are very helpful and I feel my story is all the better for them. Of course, if I screw up after she's commented I only have myself to blame!
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 ]