TITLE: Irrational Logic

AUTHOR: Nicky Chevalier

FEEDBACK: Yes!!!! NickyChevalier@yahoo.com

CATEGORY: Jack/Sam romance

SPOILERS: Meridian, Revelations, The Light, Beneath the Surface; a few others but none really big enough to mention here.

SEASON: Early season 6

RATING: NC-17

CONTENT WARNINGS: Sex, sex, and did I mention the sex? *g*

SUMMARY: Sam & Jack find themselves in an unexpected situation, and get a little timely advice from their friends.

STATUS: Complete

ARCHIVE: Heliopolis, SJ Archive, anywhere else just let me know.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had soooooo much trouble getting this finished-- first my computer broke down, then it was writer's block, and finally, when I was within five sentences of finishing it, a storm blew over and I had to turn my computer off. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed. And now, after all that, I'm not even sure I like it. So feedback is extremely welcome and appreciated; I'd just like to know that someone read it. :)

(-*-*- denotes flashback)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The fact that logic cannot satisfy us awakens an almost insatiable hunger for the irrational.
--A. N. Wilson
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***

The early morning sun cast a dim glow through the room, and Sam shifted in her sleep, the arm snaked possessively around her waist inhibiting her movements. Finally managing to turn over, she sighed, burrowing deeper into the comforting warmth of the body beside her.

Wait... Body?!

Her eyes flying open, she struggled to sit up, pulling herself roughly out of the grasp of her captor.

"What? What is it?" He grumbled his protest at the abrupt wakeup, his eyes blinking open dazedly and then going wide with shock. "Carter?"

"Sir?" She clutched the bedsheet to her chest, staring at him as if he had an explanation.

Instead he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why... I mean, no offence, Carter, but... what are you doing in my bed?!"

She blinked at him, dazedly wondering if this was some bizarre dream. "Sir, this is my bed."

"What?" He sat up, examining his surroundings to prove to himself that this was in fact her bedroom. "How did I get here?"

She shook her head slightly, studying the room as if for clues. "The last thing I remember is Teal'c and Jonas leaving."

"I remember going to my car," his brow wrinkled in confusion as he struggled for a more recent memory, "and then nothing." He lifted the blanket slightly, dropping it hastily once his nakedness was confirmed. "Did we...?"

She shook her head again, both in confusion and frustration. "I don't know."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, neither willing to meet the other's gaze. Jack stared at a spot on the wall, still desperately searching his brain for something that would give them a clue as to what the hell was going on. This was so not the way his 'waking up next to Carter' dreams usually went.

Sam gazed unseeingly out of the window, trying to decide on the appropriate course of action. Unfortunately, the AF training manual didn't seem to include a set of protocol to cover waking up naked next to your equally naked commanding officer with an apparently selective case of amnesia.

"So," he finally broke the silence, "I guess we should..."

"Yeah."

Neither moved. He looked around the room again, his gaze this time lowered to the floor. "Er... where are our clothes?"

Great. Missing memory, missing clothes; this day just kept getting better. Sighing inwardly, Sam swung her legs off the side of the mattress, pulling the topmost blanket off the bed and wrapping it securely around her before she stood.

She heard him do the same as she walked to the door, catching sight of her underwear lying just outside in the hall. A pair of boxer shorts lay crumpled against the wall nearby, and just beyond them she spied her jeans. Next was her bra; his shirt, then hers. His khaki pants lay in a crumpled heap just inside her front door, which stood slightly ajar, her jacket lying between it and its frame. Her shoes were on the doorstep, his lay on the path between the doorstep and his truck. The sleeves of his jacket swayed slightly in the morning breeze, from where it hung draped precariously over the sideview mirror.

***

"I don't think that's possible, Colonel, your bloodwork was fine yesterday."

Jack sighed exasperatedly. "Well, Doc, if we weren't drugged, then what is it? Because I *know* I wouldn't forget--" he cut himself off abruptly, and Sam looked at the floor.

Janet, pretending not to notice their discomfort, looked thoughtful for a moment. "Did you eat anything on P7C-292?"

Jack nodded, rolling his eyes. "They held a feast in our honor. Food was terrible. Why?"

"You were on base for at least six hours before you went home."

Jack looked at her expectantly. "Yeah. And...? Bottom-line it for me, Doc."

Janet raised an eyebrow, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. "Bottom line? You're right: you could have been drugged. If it's something that's slow to digest, it wouldn't have reached your bloodstream by the time you came in for post-missions yesterday. Probably why it took so long to have an effect."

She motioned them up onto the nearest bed, two needles in her hand. Jack sat, rolling up his sleeve reluctantly. Sam backed up to take a separate bed, and it occurred to Janet that the two hadn't spoken a word to each other, or in fact even looked at each other, the entire time they'd been in the infirmary.

Janet approached Sam first, surreptitiously trying to catch her gaze, but the Major stubbornly refused to look at anything but the floor. She fled the infirmary almost as soon as the needle left her arm.

Jack sighed. The alcohol was cold on his skin as the doctor swabbed his arm, but for once he was uncomplaining; which only served to worry Janet all the more. "You okay, Colonel?"

He nodded.

She wasn't convinced, but knew enough to leave it alone. "I'm...," she paused for a moment, both in hesitation and concentration as she pushed the needle into his vein; "I'm taking you both off active duty until this is sorted out."

Jack didn't look happy.

"Which means, I'm going to have to tell General Hammond about this. I'll leave out as much as I can, but..." she trailed off.

He looked downright miserable, but didn't say anything, looking down at his arm to the tiny puncture wound. "You all done?"

She nodded, and he stood to leave, getting halfway to the door before he stopped suddenly in his tracks.

"Colonel?"

He stared blankly ahead of him, his breathing becoming rapid and uneven. "Colonel O'Neill?"

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Her hands ran fluidly over his heated skin as she rose and fell over him, her rapid breathing matching his. His eyes slid closed at the exquisite pleasure of their joining, his senses on overload. This was insane, and he knew it. But if making mistakes was this good, he was never going to do another thing right for the rest of his natural life.

He groaned as her internal muscles clenched around him, signalling the approach of her climax. He had to struggle to concentrate on her words as she leaned down to speak into his ear, her nipples brushing his chest as she continued to move over him.

"God I love you."

Unable to work his voice, he took her head in his hands and kissed her deeply, following helplessly as she shattered in his arms.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Jack blinked, taking in his surroundings in surprise.

"Colonel, what just happened, is everything alright?"

He looked at the doctor, his breathing still laboured as reality slowly dawned. "Okay, what in the *hell* was the that?"

***

Sam closed the door to her lab, leaning her forehead against the cool surface for a moment before she turned, heading for her computer and the simulations she hoped would monopolise her thoughts for the rest of the day. She'd put him out of her mind, just as she usually did. No reason today had to be any different. They didn't pay her to stand around thinking entirely inappropriate thoughts about her commanding officer.

It was only when the CGI version of a wormhole flared to life on her computer that she realised she'd been staring at the monitor for the past ten minutes doing exactly that.

She banished the screen saver, bringing her attention firmly back to the work in front of her. She tapped at the keyboard for several minutes, adjusting and recalibrating and fine-tuning, but the numbers didn't seem to want to cooperate today.

"Dammit," she cursed, standing to pace the room in irritation. She wondered if Jack... Colonel O'Neill... was having as much trouble concentrating as she was.

Not that he'd mind. No, she thought, he's probably sitting at his desk, happily letting his imagination take him on a guided tour covering every sordid detail of last night's events. It wouldn't bother him that he was five days behind on his paperwork and daydreaming was not going to get it done. He wouldn't worry about consequences or repercussions or the possibility of being this distracted next time they were trying to save the world. Jack O'Neill wasn't concerned with little things like regulations and what Hammond was going to do when he found out that they're attraction to each other had gotten them into trouble again.

Sam sighed, and pushed the thoughts away, knowing that she was being incredibly unfair; and getting angry at her CO wasn't going to solve anything anyway. Sometimes her life could really suck. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clothing was flying everywhere as they pulled the offending fabric from each other's bodies, neither seeing nor caring where it went. Their progress up the hall was slow, but at that moment, Sam had no concept of time. His teeth grazed the soft skin at the slope of her breast, and she gasped, then moaned as his lips closed over the nipple.

The back of her head hit the wall, using it as support while she arched her body into his, not sure whether her legs could withstand the sweet torture and still keep her upright. His mouth left her abruptly, and the loss was acute, but her protest was cut short when she realised that it was no longer the wall that supported her, but his arms, as he carried her the few steps to the bed and fell onto it with her.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Janet was standing quietly in the doorway when Sam opened her eyes, looking around in confusion.

"You had a flashback," explained the doctor, "it's a side effect of the drug. Colonel O'Neill's having them too."

Sam sat down, processing this new information with a look of surprise. "So we were drugged?"

Janet nodded. "Yes, though probably not intentionally. It seems to be a naturally occurring substance, most likely in the food or water supply on P7C-292. The natives probably have a natural immunity to it. You and Colonel O'Neill, unfortunately, don't. It affected the parts of your brain that control inhibitions and memory. Other than the flashbacks, it shouldn't have any other after-effects."

Sam nodded curtly, moving back to her computer.

"You want to talk about it?"

The Major laughed humorlessly. "What's to talk about? I slept with my commanding officer. End of story."

"It wasn't your fault. The drug made you--"

"Did it make me fall in love with him too?"

The doctor looked on, wide-eyed, as she buried her face in her hands for a moment. When she looked up, her emotionless facade was firmly back in place and she turned once more to the work in front of her.

Janet opened her mouth to speak, but Sam cut her off. "I'm fine, Janet."

Clearly reading her tone of voice, Janet nodded and, with a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, turned to leave. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

***

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Standing on the doorstep, he found he couldn't move for want of her. He needed to taste her. Now. His arm sliding around her waist, he spun her quickly around to face him and brought his mouth crashing down onto hers. She responded immediately, eagerly allowing the entrance of his tongue as her hands slid through the hair on the back of his head to hold him there.

She kicked off her shoes, and he grasped her hips, lifting her until he felt long legs wrap securely around his waist. Reaching blindly for the door, he pulled off her jacket, letting it drop uncaringly to the floor and turning them until her back was pressed hard against the wall. She moaned her appreciation, her nimble fingers making light work of the button on his khaki pants. She was sending him out of his mind, and Jack welcomed it wholeheartedly.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack flinched, startled as he was yanked out of the memory and back into Hammond's office.

Oh crap. Fantasising about her while in the privacy of his own office was one thing, but this was entirely different, given the fact that he was sitting less than three feet away from his superior officer. Not to mention the problem of it being more than a simple fantasy.

"Yes Sir," Jack answered, sincerely hoping that his voice didn't sound as strained as he thought it had.

"Is everything okay?"

He nodded. "Everything's fine Sir. Don't suppose we can go back to work?"

Hammond shook his head, a slight smile on his face. "You know I can't, Colonel. SG1's mission will keep until Doctor Frasier tells me you're both ready to be back on active duty."

The General studied his officer for a moment, and Jack held his breath, instinctively knowing what was coming. "In the meantime... am I right in assuming that I didn't get all the details of yours and Major Carter's... condition?"

Hammond thought he'd never seen Jack look so uncomfortable. He softened his expression. "Relax, Jack; I'm not going to call you on it. Just tell me I know everything I need to know about this."

"You do Sir."

He nodded. "Then I don't need-- or want --to know anything else. Whatever happened, I trust it won't effect your ability to work."

The Colonel opened his mouth to voice his reassurances that it wouldn't, but the General continued. "And I'm sure you and Major Carter will do whatever it takes to work it out."

He couldn't be sure, but Jack got the distinct impression that the General was trying to tell him something. He nodded quickly. "Yes Sir. Whatever it takes."

"Good. Dismissed."

***

"Major Carter." Jonas looked up from his desk as she entered his office. "You've come for these, I presume." He handed her a sheaf of papers, translations it had taken him almost all of the night to complete.

She accepted them with a rudimentary smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks Jonas." She turned to leave.

"Major? Is everything okay? You seem a little... distracted."

She paused in the doorway, shaking her head. "No, everything's fine."

She was partway out the door when she stopped still, her breath catching, then releasing on a ragged sigh.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

She pressed him hard against the door of the truck and stripped off his jacket, it's collar catching neatly onto the sideview mirror as she threw it away. She didn't notice, pulling him away from the vehicle and up the cement walkway towards her house.

All she could think about was getting him inside-- her house, her bedroom, her. She stopped again, the need for his lips growing too great to put off any longer, and she pulled him roughly back to her as he deftly toed off his shoes.

The craving for him temporarily eased, she pulled her mouth from his, turning to resume her insistent path towards the house.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Jonas was looking at her in bewilderment. "Has that got something to do with why our mission today was postponed?"

Sam sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she would not be making a quick getaway. "Colonel O'Neill and I are both off active duty for the next day or so. Something in the food on P7C-292."

Jonas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You're fine," she assured him, misreading his expression, "if it was going to affect you it would have by now."

He shook his head at her misunderstanding, "No, I was actually just wondering how it affected you. You both seemed fine last night."

He didn't miss the pained look that passed over her features at the remark.

"It's slow-acting." She didn't say any more, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere on the far wall.

Jonas nodded, looking as though he wanted to say more but had decided against it. She turned again to leave, and was almost out of sight when he spoke up. "Major?"

She suppressed a sigh. "Yes?"

"I know I haven't been part of this team very long, but... well, it is important to me, and..." he looked hesitant for a moment, struggling to find the right words.

If she'd had any idea as to where he was going with this, she'd have helped him out, but as it stood, she didn't. She softened her tone. "What is it, Jonas?"

"This isn't..." he paused again, then decided just to say it. "Whatever happened between you and Colonel O'Neill isn't going to affect SG1 is it?"

Sam stood staring, a panicked look passing quickly over her features and then disappearing, and Jonas immediately regretted opening his mouth in the first place. "Not that I think something... I mean I know you two are... well, not that it's any of my business..." he finally decided just to shut up.

Caught off guard, Sam stood unmoving for a moment, not sure what to say. Finally she broke the slightly uncomfortable silence that had settled over the room, looking at him questioningly. "What gave you the idea that we..." she didn't finish the sentence, but Jonas instinctively knew the question she was really asking: 'are we really that obvious?'

He shook his head at her misconception. "No, no; it wasn't me, I had no idea. Doctor Jackson mentioned it in a couple of his journals." He shrugged. "As far as I can tell I'm the only one who's read them."

Sam looked stunned, then curious. "Show me."

He turned and pulled two well-worn notebooks from the bookshelf, and Sam noticed that he hadn't even needed to look for them. She raised an eyebrow at him. "How many of these books have you read?"

"All of them." He handed her the journals, and she began flipping through the pages, skimming over the lines for her name.

"Mind if I borrow these?"

***

__________________________ 09/04/00 _________

As per usual, this latest mission didn't exactly go as planned. I'll never understand why they keep sending SG1 on missions to establish trade relations-- all we ever seem to do is get into trouble.

This time we had our memories erased and replaced with false ones in order to keep us working in an underground slave labour camp on P3R-118. I still keep having to remind myself that Jack's name is not 'Jonah'. Janet says it'll wear off in a day or two.

As hard an adjustment as it's been for me though, I think it's been twice as hard for Jack. He hasn't said anything of course, but I know he and Sam had something going back there. Can't be easy on either of them, just giving it up; pretending it was never there.

As for me, now that I have my memories back, I find the whole thing fascinating. The two segregated societies were like two completely different worlds...

Sam stopped reading, knowing he was about to launch into one of his anthropology lectures. She'd read the rest later, right now she picked up the second journal that Jonas had given her.

_______________________________02/16/01________

Three days to go. According to Janet, we'll be able to safely leave this planet in three days, and seriously, that's three days too many. This place is not nearly as much fun without the light show.

Not to mention Sam and Jack are driving me nuts. I at least have an entire palace full of translations to keep me busy; apparently all they have to do around here is annoy each other; and, by extension, me. I understand that under the circumstances, having to be around each other so much must be kind of frustrating, but really, this place is huge. Surely just avoiding each other for a while is a better solution to the sexual tension problem than spending all day at each other's throats.

I'd suggest it to them, if I wasn't worried about having my ass kicked.

Meanwhile, I've translated most of the writings around the pedestal, and it seems to indicate...

Sam closed the book, running her hand over the front cover. She missed him. Stubbornly denying that anything she'd just read had had any other effect on her besides bringing up memories of Daniel, she put both the journals aside to read later, and returned her attention to the work on her computer.

***

"And you remember nothing?"

Teal'c easily dodged the punch, moving out of the way as Jack's gloved fist flew at his head again. The Jaffa reciprocated, his own glove connecting with his friend's arm as he blocked the attack.

Jack's head shook slightly in answer. "No. Well, yeah. I keep having these flashbacks." He took another swing, missed again. "But I'm not so sure I want to remember."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "You do not what to know what happened?"

Jack ducked a punch, jumping backwards on the balls of his feet. "I don't think that's such a good idea." The image of her poised above him, her skin heated under his touch, crept unbidden into his mind and momentarily distracted him into allowing a swift punch to the side of the head to send him sprawling.

"O'Neill, are you alright?"

He got to his feet, nodding. "This is crazy. How did I let it get this far?"

"Was it not the drug which--"

"Not just that. All of it. She's gotten under my skin from day one. We've been drugged, memory-stamped, infected with that virus, sent to an alternate universe, and made to live the same day over and over. And every time something weird happens... I ending up doing something I shouldn't. None of it *forced* us to do anything we didn't want to do. It's been there all along, I just ignored it until it was too late."

Teal'c dodged another punch, moving effortlessly around on the mat as Jack lashed out carelessly, more focussed on what he was saying than his boxing technique.

"Too late for what, O'Neill?"

"To stop myself falling in love with her."

Jack got in a punch to the jaw, though he suspected that it was surprise over his confession that allowed it, rather than any skill on his part. Hell, he was surprised himself. He'd known, of course; had acknowledged his feelings to himself long ago, he just hadn't expected to be confessing them to Teal'c over a friendly boxing match that was more for the sake of taking his mind off current issues than for any kind of physical benefit. Great lot of good it was doing.

"Do you believe you would have succeeded?"

A light tap to the side of the head brought him out of his reverie and Jack's brow creased in confusion at the question. "At what?"

"Preventing your feelings for Major Carter."

Oh. That. He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess not..."

He trailed off, his arms dropping back to hang limply at his sides as his eyes glazed over.

"O'Neill?"

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Jack."

He turned, and she was standing in the doorway, the light from inside the house silhouetting her figure. He raised his eyebrows at the sound of his name falling from her lips. It was... odd. But not unpleasant. Dangerous, yes; but certainly not unpleasant. He took a breath, trying once again to reign in the thoughts that had been running wildly around in his head all night.

He was just beginning to wonder what had gotten into him, when an insistent hand on his stomach pushed him against the driver's side door of his truck, and a wonderfully soft pair of lips connected with his own.

"I want you."

And with that, all rational thought promptly fled his mind.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Jack sighed as he came out of the memory, mostly because he wanted to get back into it. He looked at Teal'c, who stood silently watching, an expression of concern crossing the Jaffa's features as Jack sat down heavily on the mat. "I don't think I can do this anymore, Teal'c." He wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that, but he knew he was talking about a lot more than their boxing match.

Evidently, so did Teal'c, as the Jaffa gave him a serious look.

"Then do not."

***

"Hey Carter." It was late, but he'd known she would be here.

She tensed, but didn't look up. "Sir."

"Whatcha doing?"

Sam closed down the application, standing, but still not looking at him. "I was just finishing up." She moved passed him, heading for the door.

"Good. Then you've got time for a chat."

She looked back at him, not quite catching his eye, her expression steely. "I've got work to do."

"Thought you said you'd finished."

She looked away, agitated. "It's late, I need to get some sleep."

Jack sighed. "Carter, you need to talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

He looked at her, annoyed. "I think there is, and we're going to talk about it."

She seemed to lose some of her composure then, folding her arms in irritation. "You gonna pull rank on me? *Sir*?"

"This isn't about rank, Carter." She didn't answer him, and he felt himself losing patience, fast. "Okay, look, if that's the way you want to play this, fine. Go right ahead and try. It's *not* gonna work."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She still didn't look at him, her voice cold.

"Yeah you do. You know the denial game as well as I do. Better, even. But it's not going to work this time."

She didn't speak, but Jack got the impression that she was at least listening. It was a start. "That was *us*, Carter. You can say what you want about the drugs, but that was us, and no amount of ignoring it is going to make it go away."

"Don't do this, Colonel."

"Dammit Sam, will you just *stop* being my second in command for one minute?!"

She swung around to face him, her voice raising to match his. "And how am I supposed to do that, Sir?!"

"You could start by losing the 'Sir'."

She shook her head. "I stopped being your second in command last night and look where that got us."

"Exactly."

***

Fifteen and a half floors under Cheyanne Mountain, an elevator shuddered to an abrupt halt as Sam's hand punched the 'stop' button. She sucked in a breath as his lips descended on her neck, her hands snaking under his shirt to trace the hard muscles of his back.

Jack groaned his appreciation into her neck, pressing her further backward into the wall. He supposed it had been a little ambitious of them, planning to make it home first. He thought they'd done pretty well to even reach the elevator, considering all the storage closets they'd passed on the way here.

"God, Jack," she breathed, her hands now tearing the shirt, and any other piece of clothing she could reach, from his body. He groaned again as her lips trailed wet kisses down his chest, and his hands came up to steady himself on the wall as her mouth moved lower.

His eyes slipped closed at her ministrations, and he struggled to speak around his rapid breathing. "Sam..." She ignored him, and he moved a hand down to tangle in her hair, tugging gently to get her attention. "Sam, you've really gotta stop that."

She stood slowly, her lips trailing back up his body until she grinned against his mouth. "Make me."

Now it was his turn to grin, as he pressed her back against the wall and began his own particular brand of torture that had her squirming in a matter of minutes. "Jack," she panted, "please. I'm gonna..." she trailed off, as her entreaty only served to make him increase his efforts. "Oh God," she clutched at his shoulders, struggling to remain upright as the wave of ecstasy overtook her.

Finally, he stood, ignoring the protest from his bad knee as she sagged against him, and held her as she drifted back to earth. She kissed him lightly, then with building intensity as passion started to take over again. "That was nice," she breathed, "but a little one- sided, don't you think?"

"Are you kidding?" He raised an eyebrow at her, "I think that was without a doubt the sexiest experience of my entire life. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are-- especially when you're naked?"

Sam laughed. "Not quite like that, they haven't." She kissed him again, her nails raking over his back, and he moaned against her lips.

"We should probably go... someone might notice the missing elevator."

She glanced at her watch. "It's after three in the morning, who's going to miss it?" She brought her lips back to his.

"Sam..." He tried to protest again, but she hooked a leg around his and in a perfectly executed combat move, had him flat on his back before he knew what hit him. "Hey!" He grinned, not about to complain as she moved to straddle him.

He sucked in a ragged breath as she pulled him into her, rolling them so he lay over her and dropping a kiss to the corner of her mouth. He tenderly brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "You know I love you, right?"

"Mm Hmm," she nodded distractedly, breathlessly urging him to move within her, "I love you too, now you want to stop talking about it and show me?"

His laughter quickly turned to a groan as they began to move against each other, easily finding a rhythm, and they were soon following each other into oblivion.

"God Sam," he breathed against her neck when he was able to speak again. It was then that he realised she was shaking, and he pulled back to look at her, concern evident in his gaze until he realised that she was laughing.

"What's so funny?" He asked, his mouth turning up into an amused smile.

"We just had sex in the SGC elevator."

He laughed with her, eyeing the small space and realising with amusement that he would never again view it the same way. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?"

She sat up, and he protested the loss of warmth, gripping her by the waist to pull her back down to him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," she laughed, and he gave her a put out look. She smiled. "Well, we can't stay here all night, can we?"

She sat up again, pulling him with her, and he grumbled, but complied. "Couldn't we just go back to my quarters? It's closer."

"And get caught there in the morning? I don't think so."

She pulled on her clothes, running her fingers through her hair.

"Oh, so it's okay in the elevator but not in my room?" He teased, doing up the buttons on his shirt, "Besides, it is morning."

"Are you questioning my logic, Colonel?"

"Never," he laughed, pressing the button to restart the elevator's slow ascent to the surface.

***
END
***

Now it would be your turn!! PLEASE?

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