1500 Hours: SGC Officers Commissary
Sam loved whipped cream! Besides chocolate it was the best aphrodisiac where she and Jack O'Neill were concerned. Of course, he'd never know that now. She sighed with regret.
Sitting at a table she twirled her spoon around the mountain of whipping cream that topped her red Jell-O. Yep, Carter was eating red and loving it. Slipping a spoonful into her mouth she sighed out her pleasure. Yum, strawberries and cream. Yet there'd been a time she'd never put anything on top of blue Jell-O, let alone consider eating red. To do so would be a deadly sin. Jell-O didn't need whipping cream or fruit to make it taste better.
Ah, yes, the last Hallmark moment of, Red Jell-O versa Blue Jell-O wars between her and the colonel happened a year ago at his house. Ironically, it occurred exactly two weeks after she'd recovered from her concussion aboard the Prometheus. Sam looked back at that experience when she had unconsciously imagined Jack let her go because he no longer loved her. She'd believed an illusion, when the truth was, he'd never stopped loving her and would never ask her to choose between him and her career. That was love!
Teal'c, bless his Jaffa heart, told Sam how Jack suffered when she'd gone missing. She'd dismissed it, stating that as CO Jack would have felt that way had it been Teal'c or Daniel missing. Teal'c argued he wasn't talking about teammates or friendship love, but the love between a man and woman.
When Sam stood her ground Teal'c stalked off, muttering about the stubborn Tau'ri. Why hadn't she seen what was obvious to everyone else? Jack still loved her. He was her safe bet.
Sam now accepted what she'd lost that day. What Jack had been willing to sacrifice and how much the irreverent Irishman truly loved her. He'd given her a choice alright and when she'd made it, he'd loved her enough to let her go.
~*~
"Why cover up what's already delicious, sir?" she'd argued.
"And what's wrong with trying something new? C'mon, Carter, take a chance. In fact, I bet you'll love it." He waggled his brows in that mischievous way that warned her she'd regret it. Trouble was Sam never backed down on a bet, especially with Colonel O'Neill. "Bet what, sir?" She eyed-balled the can of whipping cream he held.
"Be warned this is strictly off record, Major." He watched her closely, his brown sensual gaze holding her hostage. "In fact, this wager could change everything with us."
"Breaking the regs are we, Colonel?" She flirted back knowing the flirtation never went further than their verbal banter. Her heart wished differently.
"Hail Dorothy." He snickered as his dimples tucked deep on either side of his mouth as he dragged his tongue over his parted lips.
"You're on, flyboy." She didn't bat an eye or add a sir. Not on these bets.
Her CO leaned over the picnic table and whispered, "A mouth watering kiss and," he hesitated, "Marry me?"
It took a moment for his offer to kick in. "Mar-ry you?" Sam choked out.
"Yes." He smiled, enjoying her squirming response. He looked way too smug.
"But-but we work together, sir." She felt heat rushing to her cheeks.
"Guess that'd have ta change." He held her worried gaze with his challenging one.
"Well-that's a bit drastic for a whip cream versa no whip cream on Jell-O wager, don'tcha think?" she mimicked him.
"It's not about the fish, Carter, it's about fishing," he said with that husky lisp that sent a shudder of pleasure right to the core of her womanhood.
"Oh," She licked her dry lips, knowing he so wasn't talking fish or fishing.
"Knew you wouldn't bet on it." He chuckled and trained the can's nozzle over his red Jell-O and squirted cream.
Sam observed the avalanche of white fluff bury his Jell-O. Before he could finish, she yanked the can out from his hand. A few feet away, Teal'c and Daniel stopped playing chess and observed the betting couple.
"Watch me." Sam proceeded to pile her dish of blue Jell-O with the creamy substance.
"I am." Jack braced his chin in his left hand and winked as he eyed her up with that devil may care look that got her hot and bothered. He had sex on the brain! Right? Yet something deeply emotional flickered in those dark chocolate eyes and it had nothing to do with mutual lust.
Lifting her spoon Sam plowed into the dish, making sure she had equal amounts of Jell-O and whipping cream. The moment the mixture hit her taste buds, an explosion of pleasure erupted inside her mouth. Tangy, sweet blue Jell-O and cream! Why hadn't she tried this before? Sensing the colonel victorious smirk, she dropped her spoon and proceeded to do her best gagging routine ever. Even her eyes watered, but mostly from the reality of what he'd just won.
Married to Jack! Yes! No! Wow! Regs! Career change! No!
Jack knew she was faking it, right? Knew she was undecided? Sure he was serious about the kiss, but not marrying him, right? Wrong! Glancing up, she caught the pain stripping the boyish smile off his lean tan face, the stress line between his brows deepened and his dimples vanished as his mouth ironed out. That smile meant for her alone was gone.
"Well, there ya go. I was wrong." He stated in his crisp CO voice, then retrieving the can of whipping cream he walked away.
Sam stood and strode after him. "Sir, I didn't mean it. I meant it's really not so bad after I think about it . . ." Whoops! That didn't come out right.
Stiff-shouldered, he turned back. She could see he was playing it cool, but knew him well. "If ya had to think about 'it' at all, Carter, that sucks, which makes me an ass and you-you. So forget it. I have."
Ouch! Sam felt his verbal O'Neill slap in the face.
"Hey, guys." Nosey Daniel sauntered up to them. "What'd you two bet on this time and who lost?"
They looked at him as if he had grown two heads. Sam actually feared Jack might inflict bodily harm on the Space Monkey.
"Whether or not Carter likes whipping cream on Jell-O." Jack said too smoothly.
"Oh, and do you, Sam?" The linguist challenged with a smirk.
"I . . ." She avoided Jack's direct glint but engaged Teal'c's raised brow and encouraging smile. Before she could concede, Jack did.
"Apparently not." Jack stalked off. "And Carter?" he shot over his shoulder.
"Sir?"
"Get a life!"
And that was that. They never talked about it again. Minutes later in the kitchen Jack acted as if the incident never happened, but it ended their Jell-O wars. After that, Sam made certain Jack never saw her put whipping cream on anything, let alone Jell-O. And yeah, Sam got a life. His name was Pete Shanahan.
~*~
Sam set down her spoon and glanced at her empty ring finger that only a week ago, Pete's ring had adorned. She'd taken vacation, the first in years to break it off with him. Her first broken wedding engagement hadn't gone well. Neither had this one. It'd been nasty at best. Pete blamed her for being hung-up on her CO. Well, she was, and that's why she'd dropped by the base to talk to the general. Only to discover he had retired and was moving to Minnesota.
Why? He loved the Air Force. Loved his job. Correction, he wasn't thrilled about being a paper pusher, but he did love the SGC. And like it or not, he was a great base CO and paper pusher. Besides he knew his knees couldn't handle the stress of weekly off world missions anymore. Heck, Janet told him that two years ago.
But why hadn't he told Sam? Why wait until SG-1 was on a month downtime and off base? To her knowledge neither Daniel nor Teal'c knew of Jack's sneaky retreat. That's what it was of course, sneaky and underhanded and so-Jack!
Well she'd see about that!
~*~
Sam pulled into Jack's driveway and parked her red Mustang alongside his green Ford truck. The house appeared locked-up and a 'For Sale' sign dressed his immaculate front yard. Strange, she couldn't imagine he'd ever sell this house. The house that Jack built with old world charm on his two acre lot and a babbling brook in his wooded backyard. Somehow, she'd always pictured herself here, living with him and three point two kids, a dog and cat. Jack hated cats. Not that it mattered now.
She sat there for a good ten minutes before she got the nerve to leave her car. She could smell his hot grill in the backyard. So, he wasn't leaving quite yet. The electric garage door opened and she spotted Jack's rummaging through a huge cardboard box. She watched as various sporting objects hit the concrete floor, tennis racket, baseball mitt, hockey stick, and a soccer ball. She knew these were favorite items. Her gaze took in the stacks of boxes that occupied most of the three car garage. Jack was moving!
Swallowing her emotional fear she strode up to him and stopped just outside the doorway. Barefoot, he looked great as usual. Jack wore oversized, beige, cargo shorts that emphasized his leanness and those long, muscular, tanned and yes-hairy legs. She loved those legs. An un-tucked, paint-stained, t-shirt concealed his muscular six-pack but defined his tanned arms and lean face. A tuft of gray hair poked out of the cardboard box. Sam's fingers itched to slick his unruly hair in place. But then Sam's fingers itched to do a lot more to this gorgeous man. Before she opened her mouth his voice echoed from the box he was ransacking.
"Carter."
"Sir?"
He raised his head and glanced at her. "Drop the sir, wilya?"
"Ah, yeah, okay." She gestured at the clutter. "Packing, huh?"
He gave her that, 'here's your sign,' look. "That obvious, huh?" his tone wasn't playful.
She flinched. "You could have told me, Jack. As your 2IC you owe me that much." She took a cautious step toward him.
"Don't owe you squat, Carter." He opened another box looking for something. He started muttering again.
That one hurt. He was pissed and not about work protocol. This was personal. This was about them.
"I meant professionally, si-um-Jack." Her emotions ran ramped. She wondered if he was still seeing Kerry Johnson. The rumor mill said, no. But then, it was usually wrong. Didn't Jack know she still loved him, always had? Or realize why it took her two weeks to accept Pete's proposal was because she'd wanted him to stop her, but he hadn't?
He scratched his heavy blue-bearded jaw and stared at her. He'd not shaven in days. For a moment she imagined those rough bristles scrapping against her sensitive skin and shuddered.
"So this a chew-out your former CO visit or there's something else on your brilliant blonde mind?" The O'Neill sarcasm lacked. . .a lot. He turned back to scavenging through another box, cursing.
Sam's restless gaze rested on his tight muscled ass. She loved that ass. She loved its owner. Dang!
"No, I. . ." She shoved her hands into her jean pockets and stepped into the garage. "I just. Damnit, Jack, look at me!"
He turned and glared. His brown eyes fused even darker in the shadows of the garage. But his, "What?" came out soft, almost vulnerable.
"Are you and Kerry still dating?" Whoops! That was so not what she intended to ask.
He swatted at a pestering fly and then squinted at her hard. "What's the grapevine say?"
She blushed and floundered. "Sorry, that was rude. I just-"
"Yes it was. No, we're not." His flinty tone said the subject was signed, sealed and delivered. Closed!
"Oh." She looked at her black sandals, noting she'd smudged the pink polish on her left big toe.
Jack jammed his fists into his deep cargo pockets, noting an army of ants invading his garage. She watched as he made quick mash of the insects with his large bared feet. If they weren't at odds she'd have smiled. His hands maybe weren't talking but the complex expressions flickering across his tensed features were. Sam knew each of them. He was an emotionally basket case, just like her.
"I'm not marrying Pete. I broke it off last night." She nervously blew out a breath.
"Yes. Well, I know."
"Yo-uu do?" She was confused.
"Yeah. Petty dropped over for a visit around midnight. Chewed me up one end and down the other." He glanced over and winced.
"He came here?"
"Thought we established that." He rolled his eyes.
"You two didn't-"
"Fight? Nah. Never knew what hit him." Jack smirked for the first time.
"Sir! I mean, Jack?" Sam knew the damage Jack could do even to a trained police officer like Pete.
"Chill, Carter. I'm kidding. The guy was wasted. I sent him home in a cab. Apparently though, I'm a home wrecker." He poked his chest. "Threatened to castrate me if I don't leave Dodge." His other hand slipped out of a pocket and began his typical sign language. "Guy's wacko, ya know." Jack made a rude gesture.
"I know and you were right. I was wrong about Pete. Including believing I was in love with him. I wanted what we couldn't have-"
"Or ya weren't willing to wait for?" He stalked forward and lorded over her. Jack was the only man she'd ever allowed to take this physical advantage and invade her space. He knew it.
"Yes, Jack. I'm sorry if I've hurt you." Tears warmed her pleading eyes.
He stepped back giving her room. "Yeah, well shit happens. And I did order you to get a life. Didn't expect ya to follow through's all. So let's call it even-Steven?" Hands back in his pockets he stared down at her, but didn't touch her.
Sam winced and nodded. The angry silence between them became painfully unbearable. Sam pulled her gaze from Jack's and gestured at the boxes. "Then you're not um. . . leaving because Pete threa-"
"Oh, for crying out loud, Samantha! I'm not threatened by control-freak Shanahan, who's so selfish he'd buy a freaking house without your okay. I've been planning this for months, years." He gestured to the packing.
"Selling the house?" She sighed out and took a step closer.
"Heck no. Where'd you get that idea?"
"Well the grapevine said-"
"Screw the grapevine, Carter. I'm on vacation all month."
"But General Hammond said you'd resigned and he's filling in until the civilian replacement takes over. I just left him." She thumbed in the direction of the mountain.
"That sneaky old Texan." Jack trailed a splayed hand through his silver hair. "He managed to leave out a few pertinent details. Yes, I resigned. No more Air Force. Secondly, I am the new civilian replacement. Seems the Pentagon and the pres got pressure from the Oversight Committee. They want a civilian manning the SGC but someone with military and Stargate experience. I've contracted for four more years as the civilian director of the SGC and then I'm out of there and off to Minnesota."
"Then you're not my CO anymore?"
"Nope." He smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. "From here on, I'm just good ol' Jack, Sam. No regs to worry about. Not that it changes anything. . .personally with us." He avoided her astonished gaze and returned to rummaging through the boxes.
"Oh, of course not." She wanted to ask why, but the cold steel in his brown eyes and voice told her don't. Even-Steven or not, she'd hurt him with the Pete affair. She'd be surprised if he even cared, let alone loved her. "Um, is there something specific you're looking for?" She offered waving a hand at the fifty or more labeled boxes.
"My yo. . . " he muttered beneath his breath.
"Your what, sir?"
He sent her a threatening glint.
"Sorry, Jack, habit, ya know." She flushed, figuring she better leave before he ate her alive.
"Ah huh." He blew out, his tone softer, kinder.
Sam did her turtledove chin tuck and gave him a questioning look. "So?"
"Fine. Fine. I can't find my yoyo!"
Sam grinned and reached into her back jean pocket. "That's coz you left it in my lab with your Game Boy, which is still there, ya know."
"Ah, yes, right." He scrunched his face and a tinge of red brightened his tan.
Sam handed over the worn, wooden, red bobble and string. Their fingertips brushed and Sam swore a bolt of lighting passed between them as Jack's finger gripped hers.
"Thanks." He glanced to where their hands were still intertwined. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and then let go. "It was Charlie's."
"I know," she said softly. Their eyes met and an unspoken understanding passed between them. He'd shared more with her about Charlie than with anyone, even Daniel.
Jack pocketed the toy.
"Well, then, be seeing you." She hesitated, waiting for an invitation that didn't come. "At the base, right?"
"Yeah. In twenty-seven days at 0800 hours."
"Oh, sure. So going to your cabin, huh?"
"No." He picked up the sport items and re-boxed them, mumbling, "I'm building."
"And not moving?" She was still confused about the packing and for sale sign.
"No. Just serious cleaning. Most of this stuff is going to the, Homeless Shelter, the rest in a storage unit."
"Then what's the 'For Sale' sign about?"
Jack turned back. "Oh, the neighborhood kids were helping this morning. One of them shoved the sign in the lawn for laughs."
"Ah." She breathed out in relief and turned toward her car.
"Sam?" Jack eyed her.
"Yes." She glanced back.
"You thought I was moving to Minnesota?"
"Well, yeah." Her hands were talking. She'd spent way too much time with this man. But not enough. She stilled her hands.
"That's why you came?" He gestured at her.
She nodded and chewing her lower lip, glanced about. "Yes. But I'll go." She batted her arm against her hips. "You're busy-." Why did this have to be so difficult? When had they become so uncomfortable being alone together?
"Ah. Um, yeah, well. . .Sam, I'm getting ready to build a second floor addition." He tipped his gray head upward.
Sam's eyes rounded. "You are, why?"
"Have had the blue prints for years. Adding a master suite with a bath, two more bedrooms, bathrooms and larger deck overlooking the stream and woods including, a new observation deck." He beamed with pride.
"Yourself?" She couldn't imagine with his SGC workload.
"Of course. Going civilian I'm limited to a sixty hour workweek. I'll have tons of free time now." His mouth lifted into that crooked grin she loved. "Turning it into a Tudor, stucco and stone, the entire English country look."
"Well, I know it will be beautiful, Jack." What were the odds that he would be building the house of her dreams? She smiled and turned away, shaking her head, cursing herself for being such an idiot. Once he'd said, everything he did, he did for her. Tears burned her eyes.
"Hey, Dorothy?"
"Yes?" She dared not look back.
"Ya wanna stay for dinner? The frig's pretty empty, but I'm going ta grill some fresh Salmon and seasoned potatoes."
"Um, sure." Inside Sam yelled, 'Yeah sure yabetcha!'
~*~
There wasn't much conversation during their routine meal-making. Not that they'd needed it. Years of being together twenty-four seven had made it easy to communicate with body language, expressions and touch. Not that Jack had touched her since that hand thingy in the garage. Nada. He stayed cleared. So did Sam. She kept mulling over what she wanted to say, but couldn't get the words past her lips. Jack was sullen at best and less talkative, if that was possible for Jack O'Neill. She wanted to ask why he was building onto a two thousand square foot house that only one person lived in, but didn't. The housing market was on a rise and if he intended to move to Minnesota in four years, he would make a nice profit. Jack O' Neill was clearly business savvy. Sam smiled. Anyone who still bought into the O'Neill's dense façade, was dense or as Jack would say, wacko!
As the evening progressed Jack watched her a lot. Sam sensed his anger with her was dissipating. She hoped so. A few times when their gazes collided it felt like a nuclear meltdown! That's when Sam realized he still cared. A lot. But was it enough? Did he love her as he'd once claimed? Love her enough to marry her? After her affair with Pete, Sam swore she'd not become a kept woman again. No more putting out before wedding vows. It wasn't worth the remorse, let alone feeling she'd cheated on this faithful Godsend sitting across from her. How could he ever forgive her? Why should he?
And yet, being with Pete had taught Sam much. She'd learned she needed someone to share her life with, but someone she didn't have to keep career secrets from. Someone who loved and respected her for more than her brains and didn't take her seriously. Someone who knew and accepted her flaws as well as her strengths. Someone, who knew her better than she knew herself. She thought Pete had been that man. But what she got was another manipulative control freak! Jack had pegged him head on when Pete showed up at the stakeout at Daniel's house last year.
Jack told Sam in his no holds bard O'Neill fashion. "Shanahan's a nut case, Carter! Six fries short of a Happy Meal!"
Of course Sam had to prove Jack wrong. She hadn't.
The man she wanted and needed had always been here leading her, guiding her and letting her lead. Their relationship was a partnership of equality, of respect and yes unrequited love. He depended on her to brainstorm SG-1 and the galaxy out of death defying situations. As he'd once put it, "Carter, I maybe the warrior-smart strategist and have the final word, but you're the brains of this flagship team. You're the better half of me . . .and one day you're going to lead SG-1, but only because you'll have earned it."
Yeah, how many times had Jack given her enough rope to hang herself? Too many times. Learning curves, he called them. It took Sam the last five years of such frightful learning curves to understand his often brutal tactics with her was his teaching strategy. The more leverage Jack gave her, was his way of preparing Sam to make the critical calls he did every day as CO. If not for Jack's exemplary but unorthodox leadership qualities, she'd never have the confidence or courage to lead SG-1. He'd trained her well. And she'd never told him. When his first act as Brigadier General had been to promote Sam to Lieutenant Colonel, it hadn't been as subjective as the grapevine rumored. Sam knew she'd earned it. And to this day, Jack never let her forget that fact and how proud he was of her accomplishment.
Yeah, Jack O'Neill was the special someone Sam longed to spend the rest of her life with. She'd known it the first day they'd locked horns in the briefing room eight-years back. No one made her madder and happier than he did. They were opposites and yet alike.
Sam smiled when Jack strolled into the living room and put on a Pavarotti CD. Weird or not, she'd only moments ago thought Opera music would be nice. Jack knew her. And who would ever have thought she'd one day like opera? Jack.
Yep, Jack was right, his frig was a barren wasteland, but she found lettuce, half a cucumber and onion to make a tossed salad. Jack fixed the rest. As usual he was a master chef and the meal was delicious. They sat on the patio watching the sun seduce the mountains and heavens, painting the sky in hues of apricot and rose. Jack downed a few beers. Sam nursed a glass of wine.
Sam glanced over catching Jack's sullen reflective mood that matched her own. They were at a standoff. If the last eight years were any indication of who was more stubborn, it could be years before one of them thawed.
Too many opportunities had passed them by. Too many what ifs? Why had she insisted they keep it in the room? Why had he agreed? Screw the Goa'uld! Not acting on their hearts never was about saving the world. It was because they were selfish, stubborn, prideful fools. And why did this otherwise irreverent flyboy have to be the exemplary gentleman when it came to affairs of the heart? For both their sakes, Sam should leave but couldn't until she told him how she felt. But how?
While Sam sipped her wine Jack excused himself. She closed her eyes and hummed to the music, never wanting to leave this beautiful, peaceful, piece of the world, Jack's world. She could only imagine what the cabin and lake were like.
"Um, forgot dessert." Jack approached the patio table with two bowls of Jell-O, utensils and whipping cream.
Sam tried not to gawk when he gave her a bowl of red Jell-O.
"Sorry." He flinched. "Had I known you were coming I'd have made blue or baked a chocolate cake with butter frosting." He chuckled nervously.
"No problem." Sam took the dish while he sat across from her and set the can of whip cream between them. Her gaze riveted on the can. "I've discovered I like red too."
"Ah huh. Well, there ya go," he said in his familiar tone that revealed he wasn't at all surprised. So had he read her mind? Did he know?
Sam watched him repeatedly drag his fork through his Jell-O, another habit she found amusing and so Jack. Next, he'd reach for the whip cream. Sam snatched it first.
"Carter?" She heard the unease in his voice.
Reaching over, she squirted a mountain of cream over his Jell-O like he liked it. Jack scrutinized her actions. She noted his deadpan expression while the stress line between his dark gray brows, deepened. His firm mouth went flat. His adorable dimples lightly visible. When he ruffled his hair, she knew she had him worried.
The moment of truth was at hand. Geez, Carter, stuff the clichés, wilya!
"Whatcha doing?" He wasn't smiling.
Grinning, she lifted the can over her Jell-O and pressed the nozzle. The heavy cream piled up and ran over the side of the bowl.
"Sam? Don't!"
She shoved her spoon into the dish and scooping up a combination of Jell-O and cream she slipped it into her mouth and sighed. Her eyes closed as the delicious blend of Strawberry Jell-O and cold cream awakened her taste buds. She heard Jack's breath leave his chest. Loudly. Heard his chair scrap against the deck boards and then she was being pulled up into his strong possessive arms.
Sam opened her eyes to find Jack with that lustful devil may care grin that always left her weak-kneed and speechless. He claimed her mouth and his tongue flickered across her cream sweetened lips, demanding entry. Sam welcomed him. The taste of Jell-O, whipped cream and Jack O'Neill made her head spin!
"Well-it took long enough-but I finally won my kiss," Jack murmured and licked the sultry depths of her mouth, then gently nipped her tongue and suckled.
Holy Hannah! Sam yelled in her head. No one had ever kissed her like this! The rough texture of Jack's beard scratching her chin fired off erotic visions. Sam's legs began to tremble and what his exploring hands were doing to her responsive body should be illegal!
When they at last came up for air, Sam gasped out, "I lied, Jack. I love Jell-O with whipping cream. Love red Jell-O. Man, oh, man, I love you, Jack O'Neill, with two L's!"
"I know, babe. I love you too, always have." His fingers tangled into her layered blonde hair, his hot breathe fanned her flushed cheeks, making her shiver with desire. "You just weren't ready and I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that. Not cool."
"You let me fly?" She realized.
"Had to. I just prayed you'd come back to me and you did." Emotion clogged his voice, he cupped her chin with shaking hands and gazed lovingly at her. Tears glistened in his eyes. Sam loved this softer edge of General Jack O' Neill that few were ever privileged to see. She was truly blessed.
"So when you said our job titles didn't change anything with us personally?" She glanced up.
"I meant just that, Sam. Ready to take it out of the freaking room?"
"Yes! And I am ready to pay up on that safe bet." She smiled seductively, making contact with her pelvis and his noticeably taut groin.
"Oy!" Jack hugged her closer urging his need against hers. "Ya sure? I'm talking wedding bells, three point two kids, a dog and-"
"A cat."
"No cats."
"Jack?"
"Oh, all right. I get a dog. You get a cat. Now about this whipping cream?" He waggled a brow and retrieved the can from behind her. "We don't want it going to waste?"
"No, sir." She giggled.
Jack stuck out his tongue and squeezed the nozzle until piles of cream covered it, then closing his mouth slightly, he leaned over her and winked.
Sam lapped at the cream escaping the corners of his mouth and lips. When his mouth parted over hers, his guttural moan blocked her softer one. Sam sifted her fingers through his unruly hair grabbing hold, realizing he was letting it grow out. Jack backed them into the patio door and fumbled with the knob.
"Now what?" Sam sighed her frustration against his ravaging lips as he stepped clear and opened the glass door.
"You trust and believe in me, Sam?" He came back to her and cradled her face with his large calloused hands, and then stared deep into her eyes.
"With my heart and life, Mister O'Neill. Always have." Still, there was that devilish spark in his amber brown eyes, the one that made her nervous. Sam gulped.
"Excellent!" He kissed her quick. "Coz, we got three and half weeks," He then lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder and carried her inside. "To play house." He grunted and adjusted her. "You put on weight, Dorothy?" He huffed.
"No! I lost six pounds the last two day puking coz of nerves." She found it hard to talk upside down. Then again, she got a good hold on his butt.
"Whatever!" He snickered.
She pinched him.
"Ow!"
"Let me down, Jack!" She kicked out, but he clamped his arm securely around her legs.
"So not going to happen, Carter. From the next twenty-seven days there's no SGC, no paper pushing, no Goa'uld, Tok'ra, or Carter's techno-babble. No one, but us and a bed!"
"Jack!!" He carted her out the front door to his truck, tossed her un-ceremonially inside and then locked the doors with his key button.
"Hey!" She banged on the closed windows and pushed buttons. Jack ignored her. She checked her belt for her cellular. It was gone. Jack walked to the front lawn and yanked out the For Sale sign. As he strolled to the backyard Jack waved her phone in the air. She knew he was grinning. The jackass!
A few minutes later he entered the house. Fifteen minutes passed before he immerged through the garage, shaven and dressed in black jeans, a blue sport-shirt and loafers. Arms crossed, Sam fumed and glared at him. He knew her body language, knew she was pissed and didn't like being out of control, like this.
Jack winked and then drove her Mustang into the empty garage stall. Okay, so she loved when her man took control, but this was insane. Was he bonkers? Jack opened her car's trunk and extracted her large overnight bag she always carried, including her backpack. Always prepared, Carter, he'd once said. He knew her too well!
"Jonathon O'Neill!" she screamed from the cab. "Are you nuts? Let me out! I gotta pee!"
Closing the garage, he unlocked the truck and tossed her luggage and purse along with his belongings into the back seat. He dropped a red ice cooler in her lap. He clambered inside, adjusted his seat belt and drove out of the driveway burning rubber.
"Jack!"
"Ya got a steel bladder, Carter. You can pee after we put on some miles."
Sam stared at the dogged expression on Jack's handsome tanned face. A shudder shot through her. She'd seen that look so often before, firing rounds of his P-90 or a zat at the Jaffa for one. "Holy Hannah! Are you kidnapping me, sir?"
"Yeah sure yabetcha." He grinned and handed her cellular back. "Got the batteries." He patted his shirt pocket.
Sam dropped the useless cellular onto the seat console. She noted his pager clipped to his belt's buckle but couldn't see his phone.
"But what if Hammond needs us, what if-"
"No more butts or whatifs, Carter. The universe and world will go on just fine without us. George will call if there's a mass invasion of body snatchers."
"But Daniel, Teal'c and Cassie and Dad-"
"I left them messages. Cass'll be home in tomorrow and house-sit your place. Daniel or T will check on mine, while we're gone. As for Dad, we know he's recovering nicely. He's house hunting locally, but will wait until we get back-"
"They know?" She forced out in disbelief.
"Know? Hell, Sam, our wannabe lovers affair has been the worst kept secret and longest running bet at the SGC. The only reason I passed my last four physicals was because Janet joggled the facts. When we lost her and the new doc came onboard, I knew I'd be found out. My knees are shot, Sam. So's my back. Besides crazy glue, the only things holding my lower spine together are calcium deposits. Big ones."
"Oh, Jack!"
"Don't!" His hand shot up. "I've been a warrior most my life, and now paying my dues. Seems that last Ancient download slowed down the arthritis and improved my health. I'm aging lots slower than the rest of you." He grinned, then frowned. "But all that Ancient crap is still zip-locked in my head. Drives me nuts some days."
"Man, oh, man, Jack. You never told me."
"Now I have. Besides Thor and Loki, no one else knows. Figure that's why Baal wants my ass."
Trying to take it all in, Sam hugged herself and delivered an O'Neill line. "Just when you thought it was safe to go outside. . ."
"Hey, hey!" He glanced over and patted her forearm, then held on.
"Hey." She swallowed and squeezed his hand, avoiding his eyes.
"We've been in worse situations. Sam. Believe me, we'll get through this one too."
"Sure." She forced a smile and glanced out the window, trying to hide her tears and fear.
A quiet moment fell between them.
Jack cleared his throat. "Earth to Carter."
She met his concerned brown gaze.
"Back to the us issue, Sam. Ya think, I've hung around these last four years coz I've a death-wish or gotta save earth fetish?"
"Well, I-hoped not, but wasn't always certain." She chewed her lips and glanced at him. "Darn it, Jack, it's not like you wear your feeling on your sleeves. You don't talk to me, let alone anyone else about what you're feeling. Heck, when I showed you Pete's ring, it was because I'd hoped you'd stop me, tell me you loved me. You didn't!"
"I did. Carter. Geez, when I said I wouldn't be here at the SGC, I meant it. If things had been different, I'd have been playing Mister Mom to our kids and quite happily too."
Sam gaped. "You could have just said that!"
"Fine. Fine. So, I'm not Doctor Phil!" Jack dragged a hand through his hair. "Crap, Sam! I couldn't stand not being with you, watching-out for you. Don't you know I'd die for anyone, but you're the only person I'd live for? Hell, I didn't take that Tok'ra symbiote coz I wanted a freaking roommate. I did it for you. It's all been for you, Sam, still is. Including remodeling the house."
Tears washed Sam's face and her hand covered his on the steering wheel. "I love you, Jack O'Neill."
"I know." He smiled back. "Shit, you're crying." He gently brushed the tears from her cheek.
"Yeah, sorry." She sniffed.
"Don't be." He slid his arm around her shoulders as best he could. "Knew I should've paid extra for the bench seat."
Sam grinned and redirected his hand back to the wheel just before he downshifted at a red light and then entered the Toll Way ramp.
"So," was all she could utter with a giddy smirk. "We're going to your cabin?"
"Maybe, eventually." He gunned the engine and merged with traffic heading southwest.
"Jack?"
"What?" he whined in that boyish voice that made her nervous and clench her teeth.
"For crying out loud where are we going?"
"Nevada."
"Oh." She settled back in her seat and hugged the cooler. "You're so romantic."
"Ya think?"
"Been planning this awhile have you?"
"Eight freaking, long years, Carter." His eloquent fingers found their way to her left knee and squeezed. "A hundred and nine ways to seduce Carter is also on that eight-year agenda. I intend to try them all." His long fingers stroked her leg suggestively.
"Wow!" Sam trembled at his hot caress and reached down seizing his roaming hand. "So going to make an honest woman of me first, huh?"
"Yep. We're doing this above board, Colonel."
She grinned at his direct military approach and respected him for respecting her. Still, it would have been nice to have seen him down on his knees begging for her hand in marriage, but that was not Jack. This was and she loved it. Her smile broadened.
"Whatcha smiling at?" he sounded suspicious.
"You. Us. How right it is and always has been."
"Happy?" He glanced over, his insecurity slipping through.
Sam looked back. General Jack O'Neill insecure? Never, when it involved fighting Goa'uld or spouting off to the likes of Kinsey. But when it involved them, yes. Then, so was Sam.
"Ecstatic!" She laughed. "Utterly, over the top of the hill giddy!"
"Me too." She watched the tension in his brow lesson, his smile returned. His hand danced up inside her thigh before he gestured to her lap. "Open it, huh?"
"What?" She gawped.
"The cooler."
'Oh! Shucks.' Sam slipped the red cover plastic aside. Her eyes glistened at the site of a sparkling blue diamond and platinum band setting on ice.
"Jack!"
"Marry me, Sam?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" She yelled and slipped the cold ring onto her warm finger and then leaning over kissed his blue shadowed cheek. Jack managed to turn his head and capture her mouth.
"Oy!" he huskily murmured against her probing tongue as her free hand went for the rising package between his muscular thighs. Jack didn't resist her caresses until he started to swerve off the road. "Sam?" he pleaded. "You're driving me nuts and into an accident." He tried to concentrate and eased up on the gas.
"Um, okay." She reluctantly let go and stared at her engagement ring as they left the Springs. Her gaze shifted to the speedometer. Glory! He was driving the speed limit! Dang, she wanted him to go faster. At this rate she'd be fifty before she was jumping his bones. "So what else you got in this cooler, flyboy?"
"Aphrodisiacs."
"You gotta be kidding!"
"Pretty sure." He winced.
Sam tried to picture Jack O'Neill buying aphrodisiacs or anything sex related. The visual made her grin. She wondered if he left any witnesses? More than curious she opened the lid. There, further inside the cooler between bottled water, were four cans of whipping cream on ice. Sam set the open cooler on the floorboard by her feet. "Planning on one sweet honeymoon, are we, sir?"
"Yeah sure yabetcha." He winked and waggled a brow, his dimples tucking deep and taking her breath away. "Willya drop the sir?"
"I like calling you, sir, sir. I think it's sexy. It turns me on, General."
'Turns you on,' Jack mouthed. "Carter, it's taken you eight years to tell me that now?" Exasperation darkened his rugged face. He was wearing his oh duh, expression.
"Um, sorry. But I don't see you've stopped calling me, Carter, sir."
"Long as we're fessing up. All the times I've dreamt about making love to you, I called you, ma'am, Carter, major, and more recently colonel and sometimes Dorothy, Sam."
"Glad to know I'm not the only sick one in this love affair, General, sir." She chuckled and groped him again. "Scarecrow."
"You still call me, Scarecrow?"
"Yep." She blushed.
Jack laughed and retaliated by slipping his hand under her blouse, unhitched her bra and then caressed her breasts to arousal. Sam's breath hitched and she pressed into his hot touch. "Wow-unfair tactical maneuver, sir." A delicious ache locked and loaded between her legs.
"So write me up, Colonel." He baited with a devilish grin and fondled her a few moments longer before he had to shift gears. "I believe it's called, Conduct Unbecoming a United States Air Force Officer and-"
Sam giggled. "Bit of a mouthful don'tcha think?" She winked suggestively.
"Sure the hell hope, so!" He gave a rakish growl. "Tend to find out real soon."
"You will." She promised. Soon as Jack shifted into overdrive, Sam opened a can and squirted cream on his hand and began licking his digits.
"Sam," he growled. "That's just wrong on so many levels. Oy!" He groaned as she slowly licked between his fingers.
"Not wrong?" she murmured between pronounced drags of her tongue. "It's taken me almost nine years to realize that all's fair in love and war, General O'Neill. Especially with my safe bet, you." She drew Jack's middle finger to her lips, sucked and licked, sighing out her pleasure in the process.
"Geez, Carter!" Jack's foot slammed the accelerator and launched them into hyper-drive toward Nevada and chapel bells.
Yep, she'd be Mrs. Jack O'Neill in no time flat.
Sam loved whip cream!
The end . . .Ya think!
Story Notes: Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please??? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)
Author's Note: Um yes, kids, you heard right. This is the last Hallmark Jell-O war. But don't despair coz, Jack wins!
Author's Note: Um yes, kids, you heard right. This is the last Hallmark Jell-O war. But don't despair coz, Jack wins!
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 ]