samandjack.net

Story Notes: Sequel to Never Alone 33: Girl Talk

Spoilers for season 9

Many thanks to Lynette (Flatkatsi) who cast her ever critical and helpful eyes over this story. As always, any mistakes remain my own.


He was somewhat dumbfounded by his overpowering urge. The thought had been going through Jack's mind for a while now, ever since he'd read his mother's letter, and he knew he had to act on it or he'd never be at peace. Picking up the phone, he pressed the speed dial, hoping she was available to take the call. He had to talk to Sam. It was important. To his relief she answered on the second ring.

"Jack! I wasn't expecting you to call."

He could almost feel her smile and his heart quickened. "Hi honey. I just. I just needed to hear your voice." Then there was silence from his end of the line.

"My voice? I can waffle on about nothing for ages if you like. Fancy a lecture on wormhole physics?" she joked, sensing there was more to this call than he had said but making light of his evidently urgent desire to speak with her.

"Sam, when's your next free weekend, or couple of days?" he blurted out.

Ah! So she was right he was after something specific after all. "Um, mid week next week we'll probably be getting a couple of days downtime, but you know what things can get like sometimes. Got something in mind?" She found herself smiling in anticipation of his plans.

"Can you firm something up with Hank?"

"Probably. What is it, Jack?"

He detected her concern and realized how quickly she could catch his mood, no matter that he tried to keep his voice even. His response, however, and his heartfelt tone, surprised her.

"I, um, I. this might sound kinda crazy but I need to go back to Chicago, to my mother's grave. I want." he tailed off uncertainly.

"You need to say goodbye properly?" she asked when he failed to continue, guessing at his motives. Obviously, since opening the box, Jack has been doing a lot of thinking. The funeral hadn't been enough. It hadn't served its purpose of helping him start to come to terms with his loss. The contents of his mother's box of effects were the trigger that had started that process, and in a way that could surely only be positive for Jack.

"I guess that's it. I'd like you to come. Will you come? I know a lot of your spare time is taken up with the wedding and everything but."

"Jack," she interrupted," of course I'll come. Wedding plans can wait. You think I don't realize how important this is to you? It's not crazy. Not even close."

"I knew you'd understand. I. thanks."

"Thanks? I want to be there. I need to be there."

He said nothing for long moments and all she could hear was the rise and fall of his breath. "I. I really need you to be there," he said eventually.

Initially, Sam wasn't sure why his confession of need made her feel happy when Jack was obviously sad. She'd been so pissed with him for leaving her behind last time, but this time he wasn't leaving her behind - this time he was sharing. He wanted her support at a time when he was most in need. She sensed this visit would be way more important for Jack than his mother's funeral. Therefore, it was more important to her too. She was happy because he wanted her to go with him and share his grief.

"Always, Jack. You never need to feel alone again, you know that."

He sighed in response and the sound in her ear was like a whisper of warming wind.

"You're the best," he replied.

"Of course I am. Only the best would be good enough for you, General O'Neill," she agreed jovially, and it was Sam's turn to feel his smile.

"How's it going?" he asked, swiftly moving on.

"It? Do you mean wedding plans, the SGC, or what?"

"Whatever you care to share."

"Have you got a spare hour or two?" she kidded.

"As much time as you need, Dorothy. I'll even take the wormhole physics lecture."

She chuckled, starting to talk, and Jack listened, interjecting where appropriate - and, in the end, it turned out to be one heck of a long call.

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They met up in Chicago. Jack booked them into a swanky hotel and the luxurious suite made Sam's eyes boggle when she walked in. A huge bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates awaited her arrival. At first, she thought these formed part of the luxury package, until she read the card and realized they had both been delivered courtesy of Jack. Then she comprehended that this trip, at least in part, was intended to help make up for him shutting her out last time. Sam had to admit it was working.

He wasn't due to join her for a couple of hours or more, so she made use of the hotel leisure center, relaxing with a sauna and massage, and by the time he'd arrived she looked perfect, having chosen her clothing carefully.

She was gratified by the open mouthed expression he greeted her with. His eyes wandered up and down her, admiring the way her black dress clung to her body and enhanced her curves. They kissed and cuddled for a while before he disappeared to take a quick shower and get dressed, and it was her turn to be equally stunned by how handsome, young and trim he looked in his charcoal suit and tie.

Then he suggested they go eat lunch before taking a cab to the cemetery. When they arrived at the small, Italian restaurant, she comprehended Jack had planned this all along because he'd booked ahead. They'd eaten in this place on their previous visit and the food was of the simple, like mama used to make variety, and all the more excellent for that. The place was busy with the lunch crowd but their quiet, tucked away table still seemed intimate.

Jack appeared carefree, but Sam knew he wasn't. As the time for them to leave drew closer, she could see he was becoming increasingly nervous about the planned visit to his mother's graveside. His uneasy fidgeting was ample demonstration. She almost suggested they put it off until the next morning, but understood that the sooner he said goodbye the better for him it would probably be.

She'd come on this trip with few expectations for their couple of days away, knowing it could upset him. Her primary concern was being there to support him in whatever way he needed, and the treats he'd lined up so far had been a total, and pleasant, surprise.

Now, Jack was kneeling on his coat in front of his mother's grave, and placing some flowers with tender care. He remained in silent thought for a long time, and Sam stood by his side and waited patiently for him to be ready to do whatever it was he needed to do.

Eventually he spoke, saying little, but from his heart. "Goodbye mom. I love you. I guess I always did. I wish I'd given us the chance to tell each other that, but I'm here now."

Sam's heart broke for him and twisted even more when she realized he was quietly sobbing. Jack sobbing? And in public? The implication of such an exceptional event stunned her, and she recalled last time they had visited Chicago, and his mother. His demon had stalked him then, and he had cried because he'd hurt her while possessed by it.

Pondering that, and everything they had been through since, Sam realized it was thoughts and feelings about his mother, and his sorrowful and painful childhood, that triggered those tears then, just as they did now. His parents had a lot to answer for.

She knew this very public display of his emotions would probably mortify Jack, and steeled to help him fight that demon again, to hold onto him tightly and ride through whatever came. Better or worse - a vow she hadn't yet made in the eyes of the law or God, but had made in her heart long ago, and fully intended to abide by.

At least the tears meant he was mourning his mother's death properly at last, and probably mourning all the lost moments they should have shared in life too. This fact encouraged her, and Sam hoped his grief would bring Jack one step closer to the closure he needed. He could never entirely escape that past, no one could do that, but he could move on from it, live his life and be happy. Sam so wanted to help him achieve that.

Kneeling on the coat beside him, she gently eased him closer and he buried his head in her breast and cried.

"Oh, Sam!" he exclaimed disconsolately.

"It's all right, Jack, I'm here. I'll always be here."

She rocked him gently while he wept, smoothing a hand through his hair and stroking his back comfortingly while tears pricked in her eyes. They stayed in that position for what seemed like an age, until she felt his shuddering sobs die down and then cease. He raised his head to look at her, his eyes reddened and sore, and she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a tissue, wiping away the moisture.

After a pause during which he seemed to be attempting to collect himself, Jack took it and blew his nose, smiling faintly after he'd done. Then he kissed her cheek and squeezed the back of her neck gently in gratitude and affection.

Sam thought she had probably never been quite so deeply moved by anything in her life, except her own acutely felt losses, and that other occasion with Jack in Chicago. This was Jack opening up to her in a way she had never dreamed would happen and it touched her heart with almost overwhelming intensity.

For Sam, these moments more than made up for the fact he'd left her behind on his last visit to Chicago, and for what he had done while here. It became one of the most memorable events of the life she would share with him, and demonstrated his feelings for her more completely than any words he could ever utter. She couldn't envisage Jack allowing himself to fall apart like that in the company of anyone else, and she was right.

"I think I have to get up now. The old knees, you know," he said with in a typically O'Neill deflecting, jocular type tone.

She helped him up and he shook and stretched his legs, loosening up his slightly creaking joints, and pondered getting old. This was so not a subject he wanted to contemplate now. Soon, he would be marrying a bright, fit, younger woman and, for their sake, he refused to grow old!

He took Sam's hand and looked deep into her eyes, smoothing a thumb over her cheek. "Am I a fool?" he asked.

"For what? For crying at your mother's graveside? For loving your mom, despite everything that happened? No, not a fool."
"I denied it for too long. Couldn't, wouldn't talk to her."

"You did what you thought you had to do to keep sane."

He regarded her with wide-eyed astonishment at that statement, and then smiled lopsidedly. "Am I marrying the best brain on this planet, or what?"

She giggled as he enfolded her in his arms and held her close again. Then he whispered in her ear. "I think I'm ready to go now." She simply nodded, and he turned to face his mother's grave once more. "Goodbye, mom, we'll be back some day." With those words spoken, Jack reached over to take hold of Sam's hand and they started to walk back to the nearest exit.

About half way there, Sam felt him stiffen slightly, and he stopped in his tracks, gripping her hand harder and turning to face her. 'Aw, crap!' he thought, giving her an apologetic look. Naturally, Sam seemed perplexed. "Shit, I'm so sorry Sam," he said quietly, lifting her hand to his lips.

Then he turned to face the path again and watched the woman he'd spotted walking toward them approach. Immediately Sam saw her, she realized who it was - Jack's old ex, Jean - and understood why Jack was so apologetic and ill at ease. Her heart lurched dramatically.

The woman who approached was handsome, with a shapely figure, and Sam would never have believed she was the same age as her fiance. A pang of jealousy overcame her briefly, but she suppressed it. Jack loved her, not Jean. He would love her and be right by her side, always. She was certain of that.

"Hiya Jack," the woman said as she drew closer, obviously surprised to see him there.

Jack glanced at Sam apologetically again and drew a deep breath, comprehending from the quickly suppressed expression of horror on her face, and the tautness of her stance, that she had guessed who this woman was. He certainly couldn't blame Sam for tensing up and being wary.

"What are you doing here, Jean?"

"Is this Sam?" Jean queried, ignoring the question.

"Yes. Sam, this is Jean."

"I figured." Sam grasped his hand so both of hers held his one, as if to demonstrate he was her man and ward off predators.

"You told her what happened." Jean's words were a statement rather than a question. "I'm sorry," she said, looking at Sam. "It was all my fault. He said you were very beautiful and he was right."

Sam said nothing. Jack squeezed her hands reassuringly with his free one and she pulled her eyes away from Jean and looked up into his. "I'm so sorry," he repeated.

Unsurprisingly, all three looked distinctly uncomfortable about this unforeseen circumstance.

"I came to put some flowers on your mother's grave," Jean started to explain. "I thought I should drop by sometimes to check on it because you live so far away."

"That's very kind of you," Sam said tonelessly before Jack could speak.

"You don't have to do that," he added.

"I know," responded Jean, "but I wanted to, for old times. Strange you should be here."

Silence fell and the three felt increasingly awkward. Jack feared the consequences of this encounter, the pain it must be provoking in Sam, and the thoughts that might be racing through her head. Sam was still too stunned by the chance meeting to know what she thought or felt. Jean was simply embarrassed.

"I, um, think I should go and leave you to it," she said, and then eyeing Sam, added. "You're a lucky woman. Jack's a keeper and he's so crazy in love with you. What happened. it was nothing, I promise. I'm sorry if it caused you both pain." Startled by the comment, Sam said nothing as the woman turned to walk away, but Jack squeezed her hand tightly and she gave him a reassuring squeeze back.

"You didn't leave the flowers," Jack reminded Jean.

"I'm guessing you already brought some. I'll take these home and bring some fresh ones another time."

"Thank you, Jean," he ventured.

"You're welcome, Jack. Goodbye." She turned her head, her face bearing a regretful expression, and walked away. They watched her go in silence and then Jack buried his face in one hand and muttered "shit" under his breath a few times.

"It's not your fault she happened to turn up while we're here," Sam said before he could apologize again.

"No, but." he sighed mournfully, "are you okay?" A hand reached up to stroke her hair and cheek

She nodded. "My god, after all these years she still carries a torch for you."

"No, that's. you really think so?" Jack queried incredulously.

"It's pretty obvious."

"Oh. I guess I never really thought." He didn't finish the sentence, appearing pensive.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Sure. I just can't believe the bad luck of her coming here now." He was obviously perturbed.

"I mean about your mother, not that woman." She spat the words 'that woman' in a way that clearly expressed her feelings on the subject and Jack cursed silently to himself. He'd hoped they had moved past that, but maybe they hadn't after all. Still too raw, still too soon.

"Oh! Yeah, I'll be fine," he replied in answer to her question, his hand continuing to smooth over her hair. But his expression belied his words. Sam wasn't sure whether it was his mother or bumping into Jean that made him appear haunted and confused. "I'm so sorry," he repeated yet again.

"Stop saying that and hold me." Her own confusion centered around the unexpected appearance his old flame, but she attempted to quash it, needing the strength of his arms to sooth her troubled thoughts.

Their hands unclasped and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and her head nuzzled up to his neck. "What do you want to do now?" she asked, leading them away from a discussion about either his mom or Jean. All of that could wait. For now, his hug was enough.

"I don't know."

"You haven't planned anything?" she asked with a lightly teasing tone.

"This was as far as I got on the planning front," he admitted. "Is there something you want to do?"

"Yes, go back to the hotel. I want you to make love to me."

Recalling the hungry cravings she'd experienced the day of Cassie's unexpected arrival, she realized they never had got around to the phone sex she'd so wanted in those moments. Now Sam was more than ready for the real thing. She'd missed him so very much. More than that, she needed him to demonstrate his love in that very physical way he could, just as she needed to demonstrate hers for him.

"You-you do?" He squeezed her gently, a small smile on his lips.

"That bed looks really comfortable," she said in a jocular tone and he chuckled.

"I guess we'd better go try it out then." When he pulled back, Jack was grinning. He took her hand in his again and they continued toward the exit.

They managed to get a cab quite quickly. The prevailing silence of the ride back to the hotel wasn't an awkward one, as it so easily might have been, given the peculiarly coincidental and embarrassing encounter with Jean. Neither of them wanted to dwell on that, although obviously it entered their thoughts.

But Sam's mind was preoccupied with Jack and what she had witnessed at the cemetery, awed by the naked emotion he had displayed. She wondered what thoughts had been running through his head in those moments, of his mother, his childhood, his missed opportunities to reconcile and resolve.

His mother's death had obviously disturbed him even more than she had thought. Sam was pretty sure Jack would never have expected to shatter so openly or seemingly easily, even in front of her, despite his apparent willingness to expose himself to her in ways neither of them had previously imagined possible. She knew he might regret that clear demonstration of something he would probably consider as weakness.

His past might still haunt Jack, but she prayed recent events would soothe his grief for that past, and his mother's loss, helping him come to terms with it at last. If so, she couldn't have hoped for a better early wedding present. Her husband to be carried so much pain, loss and regret - too many nightmares. Learning to live with them, and live despite them, was a trick he had managed to pull off quite well. The more he was able to do that, the better it would be for them and their lives together.

Jack needed to accept her love, know it and feel it in his soul. He needed to understand his frailties did not make him less of a man in her eyes, or diminish her love and respect for him. They made it grow stronger and deepen; demonstrated his humanity and a softer core than the tough outer shell. She could teach him that, Sam knew she could. In fact, she believed he might already have learned that lesson. Their relationship would prevail.

Meanwhile, Jack pondered his mother, his unanticipated reaction at her graveside and how Sam might have felt about that extraordinary demonstration of vulnerability.

It wasn't the first time he'd broken in front of Sam, but it still surprised and shook him. Ruefully, he recalled that had been because of his mother too. Jack wasn't used to overt displays of that kind of emotion and it troubled his heart. Sometimes your parents ask an exacting price for bearing and raising you.

On the one hand, he'd rather have been alone so Sam didn't see him in one of his weakest moments. Jack had been the strong leader, because that's what he was and what he had to be. Now, frankly, he felt more exposed than he was comfortable with.

On the other hand, he was grateful she'd been there to wrap her arms around him and give him succor. He'd needed comfort - it felt good to be loved and reassured. But the depth of his need scared him. So, he had mixed feelings.

Then again, this was Sam, for crying out loud. He loved and trusted her. If he couldn't cry on her shoulder, then whose? However, crying on shoulders wasn't really Jack's thing, or not as a normal rule. Maybe he had to recognize that normality was shifting. When he considered further, Jack realized it had been shifting since he'd started dating Sam. His whole life had been turned inside out and upside down, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, right? Right!

Had she ever expected any of this when they'd started out? He doubted that. What if she had fallen in love with a different O'Neill to the one she was ending up with? The notion made him shudder, but only momentarily. Sam loved him despite his flaws and weaknesses and maybe in part because of them. Jack figured sometimes women could be perverse like that. Sara had been. She'd liked being needed, and if he'd allowed himself to open up when Charlie had died, they might still be together now. He'd never know for sure.

While knowing he had learned a lot from that mistake, and should probably continue to learn from it, Jack still considered breaking down and weeping might be going too far. Not that he could have stopped himself, which came as an immense surprise to a man who was used to exercising self-control and restraint. Who knew an old dog like him could learn new tricks? Living and learning, that's what life was all about. And then you die - what a bitch!

As long as Sam accepted and wanted him, warts and all, Jack knew he could be a happier man, and a better one. This woman he'd fallen for so many years before really was quite something. He couldn't have been luckier, or made more complete. They would get married and live the rest of their days side by side, with an abiding love and friendship. They both wanted that, and they'd both get it if Jack O'Neill had any say in the matter, which he did.

Smiling softly, he leaned over to kiss her cheek, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. And she responded by grasping his hand and squeezing gently. They said nothing, they just were. It was way more than enough.

*
They did more talking while making love than they did on their way back to the hotel. Sam paused by the door of their suite as he closed it behind them and gazed at him enticingly. She had asked him to make love to her, so Jack knew she was expecting him to make the moves. He let the coat he held over his arm drop to the floor carelessly and clasped his fingers lightly around her neck, bending to kiss her, his other arm enveloping her waist.

As he withdrew his lips from hers, the hand ran softly over her neck and down her arm, waist and hips, hitching her dress up when he reached her thighs, and wandering under it. He smoothed the hand over her upper thigh and that bare flesh he loved so much between her stocking top and panties. Like many men, Jack found stockings a turn on, relishing the feel of that soft, exposed skin and the window of opportunity the provocative patch of nakedness provided.

Normally, he might take time to run his fingers under her stocking tops, exploring that nakedness with deliberate slowness, before roaming up to her panties to probe beneath. This time, however, he was brief, easing his thumb under those panties quickly and lightly caressing her without pause.

Sam gasped, a slight gurgle in her throat, and she looked up into his face. He was watching her, continuing to rub while his other hand meandered from her waist to her ass and squeezed.

"Jack?" she queried, taken aback.

He didn't respond with words but his caresses grew harder and more insistent. Sam had a surprised look in her eye, realizing he intended to bring her satisfaction without moving from this spot just inside the doorway. Clearly, he planned to try out the bed later.

It didn't take long for the surprise to turn to exhilaration and pleasure. She grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and pressed the other to his spine, following his lead. He grasped her ass tighter and she squeaked with pleasure as the strokes of his hand intensified. Sam could see from the glint in his eye, that the prospect of satisfying her in this way and watching her reactions was exciting Jack. Watching, listening and feeling her pleasure turned him on in a big way.

When she screeched that pleasure, he sighed happily and stilled his caresses, holding her close.

"That was nice," she said.

"Nice?"

"Very, very nice."

He said nothing and Sam waited for his next move, which was to stretch behind her and unzip her dress. His hands reached up to the tops of her arms and he pushed the dress straps with his thumbs, easing them off her shoulders and letting the dress fall to the floor alongside his coat.

Fingers wandering over the bare flesh of her midriff, and then up to her breasts, he groped around her back, undoing her bra and letting that fall to the floor as well. A hand cupped one of her breasts and he sighed in a satisfied kind of way.

"Now it's time to test that bed" he said with a grin, urging her toward it and pausing as they drew near.

"Isn't it time you got naked, Mr. Scarecrow?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Not until I get those panties off, Dorothy," he mumbled, crouching in front of her and reaching up to grasp their elastic waistband. Slowly, he eased the lingerie off, down her thighs and legs, and his fingers soothed enticingly over her skin as he did so. Then he turned to dealing with the stockings in a similarly beguiling way and, when the underwear finally lay at her feet, Jack leaned in to kiss her, running his tongue over her stomach, and dipping it between her legs.

"Holy Hannah!" she exclaimed, as he licked. Then he stood again and regarded her nakedness with a cheeky smile before grasping her face and drawing her lips toward his for a passionate kiss.

As their tongues clashed, Sam could smell her scent, its heady musk intoxicating; probably even more so for Jack. His reaction was certainly pleasing. Embracing him, she ran her hands over the fabric of his jacket, and then reached around to his lapels, attempting to pull it off. She tried to ease it over his shoulders a little, but his arms were lifted to grip her face, so she could not get far. In frustration, she moved her hands to his waist, starting to undo his pants.

Jack stopped the kiss and smirked. "Trying to do something, honey?"

"Get those clothes off, Jack," she growled.

He waggled his eyebrows and, taking hold of her arms, sat her down on the bed. "All right, already!"

"Don't you want me to take them off for you?" she asked, reaching for his fly, undoing it, pulling his pants and boxers down in one swift movement and starting a sexual tease with her tongue and mouth.

"I thought I was meant to be making love to you," he said hoarsely and she smiled and nodded. "Lie down," he commanded and she obeyed.

Swiftly, he bent to remove his shoes and socks as well as the pants and boxers that pooled around his ankles. He still wore the jacket, shirt and tie, so removed the jacket and threw it onto the nearest chair. Sitting beside the prone Sam, he captured her eyes and she sat up, reaching for his tie and undoing it for him.

"You look so hot in that suit. Did I tell you that?" she asked.

"You didn't have to. The expression on your face when you saw me said it all."

"Was my tongue hanging out?" she kidded, and Jack chuckled.

"More or less," he agreed. Sam sure knew how to make him feel good about himself. Worked every time. This was one of the very long list of things that made him love her so much.

She was undoing his shirt buttons but he grabbed her hands to stop her, lifting the shirt over his head. Now he was as naked as she was, she smiled sweetly and lay back on the bed again to let him do as he wished with her.

Seconds later, he was kneeling beside her, hands tenderly exploring her flesh, eyes roaming her body and greedily drinking in the sight of her nakedness.

"You're so stunning," he whispered throatily.

She smiled, as enthralled by his sensual touch as ever. He seemed to know precisely where to caress, lick and suck, how much pressure to exert, what to whisper in her ear. It was uncanny, and wonderfully titillating.

'There, oh yes, there,' she thought as his fingers worked their magic. His knee thrust into her crotch as he pushed up from her and propped himself above her, grinding the knee into her. She grunted.

"Quick or slow, Dorothy?"

"You choose."

"Nice!" he exclaimed, grinning delightedly.

As he continued to crush his knee against her, Sam found herself surprisingly turned on by its pounding, and gasped with frustration as Jack abruptly pulled away and lowered himself down to her side.

"Did that feel good, baby?"

"Yes," she replied breathily.

He trailed a solitary digit over her neck and collarbone, down her chest to a breast. It briefly circled her nipple, and then continued its downward journey pausing at her belly button and encircling it before coming to rest on her pubes and stroking her gently.

Although the foreplay continued for a while longer, he was soon making love to Sam, trying to control his pressing need so he could satisfy her. Knowing his desire was close to desperate, Sam urged him not to hold back, but he when he realized her body needed more encouragement before they completed their lovemaking, he stopped.

"Jack?" she queried, knowing if he could keep himself from imploding his previous activities would bring him what he wanted for both of them. He'd done it before.

"I don't think I can keep this up for long enough. Not this time," he explained.

Sam supposed the extraordinary emotion of the day was playing a large part in this sexual drama. His body was in dire need, and she wanted him to get what he so frantically required.

"If you need this." she started, but he stopped her words with another kiss. Yes, he did need it but, just as much as that, Jack needed her to have her fill again too. And with a sudden spark of insight, Sam understood this was something he longed for, that it was as important to him as his own physical yearning. No more protests, she vowed; let him do as he will - whatever he needed to soothe both body and soul. Undoubtedly, they would both get pleasure from his choices.

When their mouths parted, he moved his lips to her neck and down her chest, bestowing her with small kisses and nips of her flesh, all the while continuing to stroke between her legs.

Sam whimpered and he paused, looking up towards her face, and she met his eyes. Her expression whispered its longing and enjoyment and he smiled as her hand touched his head and fingers combed through his hair. Jack grasped the other hand briefly, squeezing and nodding an acknowledgement of her pleasure, and then he dipped his head back to his ministrations.

It wasn't long before the skilful movements of his tongue and fingers brought Sam to that place where Jack knew his lovemaking could fulfill them both, as he so wanted. His self-control was reaching breaking point, so needful was Jack of release. The sexual act itself was bold, powerful and over quickly, but not before they had their ecstatic fill.

"I love you," she declared in a low voice and Jack heaved himself from on top of her, rolling her towards him, kissing her forehead and embracing her.

"You must be nuts, but I'm not complaining," he replied jestingly, and she tittered, nuzzling into his neck and nestling there silently, fingers smoothing over his back.

Jack was happy to bask in that peaceful calm, feeling more relaxed and content than he had for days, if not weeks. When she eventually spoke, he was stunned by her words, uncertain how to handle the thorny subject.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that woman still has a thing for you after all these years. I did - do."

In typical Jack fashion, he tried to pass it off with a sarcastic, self-deprecating joke. "Sure, I'm totally irresistible. Once smitten, you never get over me. Overwhelming O'Neill, that's me."

"You can say that again," she replied seriously, kissing the section of his neck her lips rested against.

"I was kidding!" He drew back sufficiently to study her face.

"I know, but I wasn't. I bet you've left a trail of broken hearts in your wake."

He burst into a self-mocking laugh. "Flatterer. I'm not the special one in this room."

Sam's finger reached for his face, soothing along the furrows caused by the wake of his smile.

"You are so wrong about that," she insisted, propping herself up on an elbow and eyeing him emphatically, but he merely greeted her words with a derisive snort. "You think someone as brilliant and beautiful as me would end up wanting to marry an also ran?" she added in her own sarcastic tone, playing him at his own game.

At those words, Jack's thoughts quickly turned to her previous two fiances, but he refrained from mentioning them. Neither of them had been good enough for Sam, but who was? What really mattered was that she had chosen him to spend the rest of her life with and this time she wouldn't back out. Jack couldn't have been surer of that. This made him special and he decided to voice that opinion.

"I'm only special because you chose me." His hand hooked over her arm, thumb stroking her silky skin affectionately.

"No, I chose you because you're special," she persisted. In all honesty, this was what she believed and Jack was aware Sam genuinely meant it, honored she thought so.

"Ack! Let's change the subject," he replied, hand wafting in the air dismissively

"But I like talking about you." The corners of her lips fluttered into a small smile.

"You know me and compliments," he replied in a tone as flippant as his gesticulations.

"Jack, you're an impossible man!" Sam's eyes widened in vexation; sometimes his humility could be downright irksome, matched only by his arrogance, which was just another contradiction borne from her lover's complexity. Irksome, perhaps, but she wouldn't want him any other way.
e could be an arrogant



"But you love me anyway, right?" he countered with a beam that split his face in two.

The smile was as irresistible as ever. "I simply adore you," she responded teasingly, "right alongside all those broken-hearted women."

"Sheesh!" He rolled his eyes dramatically and Sam giggled, snuggling up to him again. Her fingers tugged playfully at the hairs on his chest and he shivered delightedly, remaining silent for long moments and luxuriating in her affection.

It was not that long, however, before his thoughts roamed to their fateful meeting in the cemetery and eventually he punctuated the peaceful silence with some somber words. "It was kind of weird bumping into Jean like that. H-how do you feel about it?"

"It's nice of her to think of your mom," she replied evenly.

"I mean."

"I know what you mean."

"Oh." He drew in a deep breath. "Damn it, Sam, I don't know what to say. Should I just pretend it never happened?"

She thought for a short while. "But it did happen."

"So. you-you. crap! I never meant for it to happen. I hoped we'd got through that. We have, haven't we?"

Once again, she paused before replying. "Yes, I think so. Sure, it was weird. Sure, my heart thudded in my chest and I felt a little sick for a while. Sure, it upset me. What do you want me to say?" Her tone was calm and confident rather than doubtful, and Jack smiled to himself, thinking they were fine but needing to ask, to rid them of the specter once and for all.

"I don't know. I guess I just want to be sure you're okay; that we're okay."

"Ack!" she exclaimed, glancing at him with an expression that was half frown and half smile, playfully mocking. "You know we are. After what I said, after we just made love. does anything about that make you think we're not okay? We're good."

He nodded to emphasize his agreement and grinned. "More than good, I think."


"Yeah, way more than good." Her expression metamorphosed into a full-on, bright smile and she kissed his cheek, quickly settling back down to nestle her head against him again.

"I-I got so. emotional earlier," he commented after a few moments silence, and she pulled back to look at him askance.

"You don't think you need to be sorry, do you?" she asked, wanting clarification of his feelings.

"Not really, but I don't generally do the wailing and gnashing of teeth thing. It doesn't sit well with me."

"You're embarrassed?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"You shouldn't have to feel like that with me, Jack."

"I know, but since when has that stopped me?" He smiled, eyebrows arching to give him a slightly satirical look. "I just."

"Stop!" she exclaimed, pushing a finger up to his lips in a gesture meant to silence him. "You're human, so what? I love that vulnerable Jack O'Neill just as much as I love the hero, if not more."

He was amused. "I should have guessed. You're a woman."

"You don't say?" she replied sarcastically.

"Tee, hee, hee," he retorted with equal sarcasm.

"I love my Mister Scarecrow." She kissed him tenderly on the lips and then stared into his dark eyes. "Jack, I'm really happy you opened up to me."

He saw water glistening in her eyes, and a couple of tears strayed down her cheeks. "Sam, baby. what.?"

"I love that you needed me."

"That's why you're crying?"

"I'm not crying."

He grinned, kissing the tear streaks on her face. "You so are."

"Not."

"Are."

They both laughed, speaking simultaneously. "Sounds like Daniel." This provoked more laughter.

When their laughter died down, Jack got serious again, picking her up on her earlier words. "Did you ever doubt I need you?" he asked curiously.

"We've both been more or less independent and insular for years..."

"And I don't know how I got through my life for all those years without you sharing it."

"I was there."

"Yeah, and I was all the better for that, Sam, always. But I wanted more."

"We both did. We've got it now."

"I do need you. You're like a part of me - a big part. If I lost you, I don't.

"You aren't going to lose me. Ever."

"You say that now," he kidded. Extricating herself from his grasp and propping up on an elbow again, she ran a finger over his cheek and he looked into her eyes. Only when she had captured his full attention did she speak again.

"You know I mean it, don't you? After everything. everything you've told me about yourself, everything we've been through. I know this is going to work."

"Ya think?" he said with a half smile and a sarcastic tone. "Of course it's going to work, we're great together Sam, but you could do better. Find a better jerk. I'm just sayin'."

He smirked and Sam chuckled. "No way. You're more than jerk enough for me," she joked and he laughed, fingers caressing her hair.

"I guess I'm grateful for that."

"You don't need to be grateful, Jack, you just need to accept I love you -truly, madly and deeply. You need to learn to live with that."

He stared into her eyes and saw the truth of her words writ large. "I can do that, I really can," Jack said eventually. "I do, Sam," he added in a tone of finality, softly kissing the tip of her nose.

It seemed Jack's demon wouldn't be coming to call this time, and he had really learned to accept her love and what that love meant for him, despite his past, which wrestled against that acceptance. She smiled, snuggling up to him once again and saying nothing more. Frankly, there was nothing left to say.




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