samandjack.net

Story Notes: Buc252@adelphia.net

Timing: I picture this S4 or S5, but it could be S7. No S6, as Jonas isn't here. Sad, I know.

Spoilers: Nothing really. References to a certain jiggly dessert

Archive: Samandjack, heliopolis, jackfic. Anybody else, please ask, but you'll get permission.

Feedback: Yes, please!


"I haven't seen Jack all day," Daniel Jackson stated a bit sadly, taking a seat across the table from Teal'c. "I wonder where he's been."

"I saw O'Neill here in the cafeteria approximately an hour ago. He was obtaining a large cup of Jell-O and a banana. He said it was a snack to be consumed while he completed some required paperwork that would take him many hours."

"He told you that?"

"I invited him to join me. It was merely his explanation for not being able to do so."

"Oh," the archeologist responded. "So he went back to his office. Maybe I'll go pay him a visit." He began to rise.

Daniel was obviously bored, and you didn't have to know him as well as Teal'c did to know that on the rare occasions it happened, it was not a good thing.

"He did state that he did not wish to be disturbed, DanielJackson. Maybe Major Carter could use your assistance on her pro . . ."

"No, I'm afraid not." Daniel looked positively sad now. "I stopped in at her lab before I came here. She said she would be hip deep in her latest project and wouldn't even be breaking for lunch."

"Is it not unwise for her to skip a meal?"

"Yeah, Janet would have a fit if she knew. At least she'd gotten herself a sandwich and some dessert. If I know her, she'll be shut up in that lab until well into the night."

"Are you not like that yourself when in the middle of a translation project you find particularly fascinating?"

Daniel opened his mouth to refute the claims, but no words came. What could he say? Teal'c was right.

With a smile of quiet amusement at having successfully out-thought Daniel, Teal'c reached across the table and popped a large grape in his gaping mouth.

Meanwhile, in another part of the base . . .

"It's so dark," she panted in his ear, nipping at the lobe.

"There's a method to my madness," Jack smiled into her neck.

"You mean, meeting in a unused supply closet wasn't cliché enough for you already, Sir?"

"Nope. Now, if they ask us if we've seen each other, we can say no. We don't have to lie"

"That's splitting hairs, wouldn't you say?"

"Maybe. I just couldn't wait until tonight," he whispered, pushing the shirt from her shoulders.

She allowed him to do so, but then stilled his wandering hands. "Not here, Jack." Their mouths returned to each other as if drawn by a magnet.

Sam Carter was determined that they wouldn't have an illicit coupling in a closet, but that didn't mean she could draw herself from Jack, nor his passion.

Hands roamed. Tongues slid from one mouth to the other, performing an intricate, yet mindless dance to their own panting.

"Please, Sam . . ."

"Jack . . ." A slurping kiss on his neck. "I need to get back."

A groan was his only response.

"Just three hours, baby," she responded, struggling to get the words out between kisses, using the uncommon endearment. "I promise. I won't be late. Your house."

"Mine . . ." he repeated, applying a hickey where it wouldn't show.

"Yeah, I promise. We'll do something extra special."

"Special . . ." She mesmerized him. Every square inch of her.

"Very special. Now, we'd better go before Daniel figures something out." She withdrew herself from his arms, straightening her BDU's and applying one last, quick peck on his lips.

He could barely make out her outline in the darkness, and for all the other thoughts going through his mind, one question escaped his lips. "You're not worried about Teal'c?"

She smiled. "Nope. Because he knows, and would never give away our secret."

And with that, she threw him a kiss and left the room, knowing that it would be too obvious if they left together.

Shortly thereafter . . .

"SG1 to the Briefing Room. SG1 to the Briefing Room." The voice rang out over the loudspeaker system, stopping Daniel and Teal'c mid-stride as they left the cafeteria.

"I wonder what that's all about," Daniel stated looking up to the speaker as if expecting an answer. "Jack promised me at least two uninterrupted days to finish these translations."

"I have no idea, but it would be unlike O'Neill to go back on his word without a very good reason. And General Hammond is just as high in character as O'Neill."

The General was awaiting their arrival from his seat at the head end of the table. Both men took chairs with their backs to the large observation window, atypically silent. Whatever the cause, Hammond apparently wasn't tipping his hand until they were all present, as he nodded at them but didn't speak.

Jack tried very hard to keep a straight face as he came around the corner, meeting up with Carter, approaching from the other direction. Ever since they'd decided to act on their feelings for one another, he almost couldn't help but smile in her presence. But it wouldn't do to tip their hands to their superiors.

Not that he didn't think Hammond would back them – he did – but he felt bad at the prospect of putting him in that position. The General shouldn't have to make excuses or lie for them.

Taking seats to Hammond's right, across from the other two members of their team, Jack didn't stand on ceremony.

"So, what's up, General?"

"Don't worry, Jack. It's nothing bad. I just wanted to let you know we've had a communication from the Tok'ra."

"The Tok'ra? What did they say?" Sam asked, instantly alert. If anything had happened to her father . . .

"The Tok'ra High Council is planning a celebration for the establishment of their new base and has requested, as liaisons between earth and their group, that SG1 attend. They have also asked me to attend as representative of our government. I've discussed it with the President, and he accepts their invitation and wishes the five of us to leave by Stargate two weeks from today.

"Now, I know some of you will find this idea more attractive than others, but the Tok'ra would like each of us to say a few words at the ceremony. Therefore, for diplomatic purposes, I'm suspending your off-world activities until the trip. If you finish your speeches early, you'll be free to work on other projects in the remaining time." He looked pointedly at Jack as he added, "I'm instructed to review your speeches or notes for content as soon as they're completed." Jack winced; he'd made one too many not-too-politically-correct statements in the past, he guessed.

"But Sir," Jack stated, leaning forward anxiously. "I'm not much of a speechmaker. Can't we do something else? Take a nice bottle of champagne, maybe dance with Garshaw, shake a few hands. I could go for that."

"Perhaps, but The Tok'ra are allies we can't afford to alienate, and if they say you make a speech, then that's just what you'll do." Relaxing his tone for a minute, he gentled. "Look, Jack. I know you'd rather do any one of a thousand things than make a speech to our alien allies, but we need to keep our ties to the Tok'ra intact, if only for Jacob's sake."

"What's this have to do with my father, Sir?" Sam asked curiously.

"You may not know this, Major, but Jacob writes to me fairly frequently. It hasn't been easy on him, becoming part of an alien community with none of his friends or family nearby. Add to that the nomadic conditions – conditions which we all hope this new base will alleviate – and you have a man badly in need of the companionship of his own people for a few days."

"Are you saying he's homesick, Sir?"

Hammond smiled warmly, "he'd never put it quite that way, but . . ."

"But you know him well enough that he doesn't have to," she finished for him with a smile. "Well, for a change, I don't have anything pressing waiting for me in my lab, and I could never give up a chance to see my Dad."

"Yeah, it'll be nice to see ol' Jake again," Jack said, smiling at Carter. In his eyes, she was the most important person in the room. "Maybe we'll get to sit down and have dinner with Dad. I wonder what the Tok'ra like to eat."

"I get the feeling it's pretty bland, Sir," Carter replied. "Dad mentioned once that he loves to have pizza, chili, and Italian sausage when he visits because nothing they cook is nearly as good."

"Then maybe we should offer to bring something? You know, make it pot-luck?"

Jack looked around the table at the faces, looking for reactions to his what-he-thought-was-good suggestion. Instead of stating their opinions of it, they just smiled, as they had the last few moments.

He was obviously not in on the joke, Jack thought as he shifted in his chair under the not-too-subtle scrutiny of Daniel, Teal'c, and, amazingly enough, General Hammond. Right away, he looked down at his chest, brushing off his uniform. "Do I have something on me?"

"No, you're fine, Colonel," Hammond said, but the smiles continued. "I'll get back to you all with the exact time of departure, but for now, you're dismissed." The General rose, still obviously fighting a full-blown grin, and disappeared in to his office, closing the door behind him. Jack just stared after him. Was he imagining it, or did he nod to Daniel and Teal'c on the way out?

"Okay, what's so funny?" Sam asked. Now that their superior was out of the room, she wasn't willing to let her teammates' antics go unanswered.

Daniel and Teal'c exchanged a look, but neither Jack nor Sam could interpret what it meant.

"Jack . . ." Daniel sighed.

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Is it safe to presume that you had your regular dessert for lunch?"

"Of course. It's Tuesday. I always have cherry Jell-O on Tuesdays."

"And you, Major Carter," Teal'c spoke. "Did you partake in blue raspberry Jell-O with your own lunch?"

"Yes, I did. What about it, Teal'c? The commissary only has Jell-O two days a week. You know it's one of my favorites."

The two were almost laughing by now, and it was more than irritating to the Colonel.

"What in the hell do our lunches have to do with anything?"

"I would recommend in the future," Teal'c said, oh-so seriously, "that you both make an effort to brush after you partake of this type of dessert."

Daniel couldn't stand any more, and broke out laughing as he rose. "Since you have some level of authority on the base, Jack, you also might want to put in a requisition that the commissary start carrying grape Jell-O."

"I don't like grape Jell-O," both Sam and Jack said in unison.

"Yeah, but at least then you'd have an excuse."

Breaking out into even-louder guffaws, the Jaffa and the archeologist walked towards the door, turning only long enough to say, "oh, and by the way, congratulations, but try to be more discreet next time."

"Discreet about what?" Jack shouted after them, but went ignored.

"Why would he tell us to brush our teeth?" Jack asked, shrugging.

"I don't know . . ." Sam replied, her mind racing. Jack knew the moment she'd come up with a possible solution to the puzzle. "Oh, no . . ."

"What?"

"Come with me."

She literally dragged him through the hall, stopping at the first restroom she found – a women's room.

"Major, what is going on?"

Sam pushed the door open, and call in. "Anybody in here?" When there was no answer, she walked in, then reached back out to drag her superior officer into the room with her."

"As much as I've always wondered what these places looked like, I hardly think this is the time."

But Sam wasn't hearing him. She walked up to a bank of sinks, complete with girly, perfumed hand soap and large mirrors set into the walls above the sinks. "Look, Sir."

Opening her mouth, she stuck out her tongue, O'Neill copying her pose.

"Oh, my God," Sam garbled.

Both tongues were discolored a deep purple.

"That's why they asked about the Jell-O we had for lunch." She stated, looking into Jack's eyes from his reflection in the mirror.

"Red plus blue equals purple," Jack groaned. "A second grader knows that."

"They know, Jack. And from his smile, I'm betting the General figured it out, too."

"Well, he didn't say anything, so you know what that means."

She looked at him quietly, saying nothing at first. "No, what does it mean?"

"It means that he's not going to give us a hard time."

"You think so?"

"I know so. And if I may say so myself, Ms Carter," he grinned drawing closer. "It was the most fun I've had in a very, very long time."

His lips alit on her neck, planting a string of kisses there. She tilted her head back to give him better access.

"Well, you know what this means, don't you?" she said, and he could feel the vibrations from her throat on his lips.

"Mm Mmmm," he replied in the negative.

"It means that we'll just have to be sure we meet before meals rather than after."

"Wouldn't brushing be much easier?" he mumbled into her ear.

"Yes, I guess so," she said contemplatively. She pulled back to look directly into his eyes. "But it wouldn't be nearly as much fun." As she captured his lips with her own, she blindly reached out and turned the lock on the restroom door.

She giggled as she pulled him into a stall. "That or we can just stick to chocolate cake."

"Yummmm . . . cake." It was the last thing Jack O'Neill said for a long time.

The End.




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