"Passing The Point Of No Return" by Becca Ramsey

TITLE: Passing the Point of No Return

RATING: NC-17 (Yes, you read that right...)

SPOILERS: Beneath the Surface, Point of No Return

SUMMARY: Got a quarter? <EG>

ARCHIVE: Heliopolis (Adult); Sam and Jack

NOTES: Special thanks to my beta reader and the "support group" for their encouragement. <G> Also, if anyone under the age of 17 is reading this, I *will* find you. <G>

********

"What do you mean, you rented my room?"

Major Samantha Carter glared across the well-worn, veneered reception counter in the small, shabbily appointed office of the Sleep Tite Inn. She stood in a black leather jacket, her hands on her blue denim clad hips. A drizzle had begun outside a few moments earlier and she had been caught in it. Feeling a drop of water begin rolling down her forehead, she reached up and wiped it away with her right hand. Her blue eyes were colder than the Montana winter.

To his credit the desk clerk -- "Al," his name tag read -- squirmed uncomfortably. He shifted the horn rimmed glasses further up his nose. "I -- I -- I'm sorry, ma'am," the man stammered. "But you -- you never came to check in, so we, uhm, booked it."

"Then. Find. Me. Another. One." Sam's teeth were clenched as she leant across the counter. She was cold, she was wet, and her wrists still hurt from the plastic zip strips she had been tied up with. All she wanted was a change of clothes, a hot shower, and a soft, warm bed... not necessarily in that order.

Al squeaked as he shrank back from Carter. He could see she had been through a lot; the water droplets streaking down her forehead and black leather coat were enough to impress upon him her need for shelter. "We don't... have... any...." He shrank back farther, bringing his hands to shield his face.

But Sam refrained from reaching out and beating the poor kid's forehead against the cheap counter. Clenching her fists, she stormed out the door and into the gravel parking lot. Jack O'Neill greeted her, standing with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his loose khaki pants. "Problems?" he asked, brows raised.

"No rooms at the inn, sir," Carter replied. She gave a long, cleansing sigh, fighting the fatigue and irritation that bubbled just beneath the surface. Reaching up she massaged her right temple. Now was no time for a headache.

"Aw, Carter, you shoulda said somethin'," O'Neill replied. He held out an arm, gesturing for her to join him. She crossed to him, allowing him to drape his arm across her leather-clad shoulders. "Daniel has his room, Teal'c and I have this room here. We'll toss Teal'c in Daniel's floor, and you can have the other bed." A wicked grin curved his lips. "It even vibrates."

Sam couldn't help but crack a smile. "Really? Tried it out yourself, have you, sir?"

"Nah," Jack said, swinging the door open. "But Teal'c ran me out of quarters around three this afternoon." He smiled as Sam tossed her head back with a solid laugh. "I tossed your duffel in the closet. Figured you might need it later."

"Thank you, sir," Carter replied. She crossed to the cubbyhole closet and removed the black nylon duffel. Digging through the contents, she managed to produce her toiletry bag. "Mind if I borrow your shower?"

Jack blinked. //Carter? In my shower?// "Uhm, yeah. Sure. Go ahead. Should be clean towels in there." He lowered himself onto the foot of his bed, flipping on the television with the antique remote.

Sam gave a slight smile. Gathering up her clothes, she slipped into the bathroom. She then quietly shut the door behind her.

Seated on the foot of the bed, O'Neill flipped quickly through the available 6 channels. Three times. Flipping through the fourth time he paused as he heard the familiar squeak of the cold water knob, then the torrential downpour as water assaulted the tub from the spigot. A few seconds later, the downpour gave way to a light rain as he envisioned Sam switching on the shower head.

//Oh, why'd ya have to go and do that?// he asked himself. Carter, slipping out of that snug fitting, rust colored top -- the one that stopped just above the waistline of her well-fitting jeans. The gentle curve of her ribs, extending to her arms as she stripped it off over her head, toussling her short blonde hair; the effortless motion with which she dropped those jeans to her ankles, stepping out of them with grace and ease. Then, clad only in her undergarments, she reached over, testing the water and switched on the shower.

Jack swallowed. Was it getting warm in here?

***

With a sigh, Sam tossed back the shower curtain and stepped in, allowing the tepid water to wash over her; in her mind's eye she could visualize the events of the day prior flowing off her body as mud would, diluting in the water and disappearing down the noisy drain. Today was one of those days... and it wasn't even Monday.

She reached up and tried to work the knots out of her shoulders. Sitting for hours with her hands tied behind her back had worked knots even a bosun's mate would have difficulty unravelling. She stepped out of the stream briefly as the water temperature spiked. //Gotta love cheap hotel rooms,// she thought.

Stepping back under the spray, she turned, allowing the water pressure -- what little there was -- to loosen the knots in her shoulders. She shook her head. There simply wasn't a substitute for the experienced fingers of her masseuse. Idly, she wondered how good Jack was at shoulder massages....

***

"Okay, that's it," Jack said aloud, practically leaping from the foot of the bed. He tossed the remote control onto the table, hurriedly crossing to the air conditioning unit. Slamming back the plastic cover protecting the controls, he jabbed his index finger and depressed the "HI COOL" button. He then jerked the temperature control far to the right, snapping the knob along the way. //Hope I don't have to pay for that,// he thought.

The colonel stuffed his hands in his pockets. Beads of sweat now surfaced across his brow as he fought back the images his mind was conjuring up. His eyes drifted to the closed bathroom door. How long could she possibly take in there? He pulled his hand out of his pocket, twisting his wrist to get a good look at his watch. It wasn't likely he could survive another five minutes like this.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" he muttered. Crossing the room with three wide strides he tapped on the door. "Hey, Sam! I'm gonna go head Daniel and Teal'c off at the diner. You want somethin'?"

In the shower, Sam poked her head out of the curtain. //Did he just call me Sam?// "Sir?"

"I'm goin' across the street to the diner. You want somethin'?"

"A club sandwich sounds great about now, actually," she replied. //No, three of them sounds great about now, but that damned PT exam...//

"One club sandwich. And a soda?"

"Soda's fine!"

"Okay!" Jack returned his hands to his pockets, shuffling across the room. Stepping outside, he closed the door with his own fanfare. At least now there would something more than a panelboard door separating him and a very naked Carter. Still, he wasn't sure a hotel room, parking lot, and a small-town diner were going to be enough. //Maybe *I* should sleep in Daniel's floor...//

********

Sam felt quite a bit more human as she stepped into her heather grey tee shirt and black watch plaid boxers. Grabbing the off-white towel she roughly ran it over her hair and looked in the mirror. There simply wasn't a great deal of difference between her new style -- wet or dry. This had advantages, but she had still hated to pay the salon to clean up the mess "Jonah" had made when cutting her hair.

She sighed, leaning against the wash basin. The memories were a little blurred around the edges, but were still there. A wistful smile traced across her lips as she remembered the feel of his fingers through her hair; the warmth of his body as he leaned close in the dim lighting to examine his work. A shudder ran through her as she remembered the tickle of his breath against her neck as ---

//Stop it, Carter!// Sam scolded herself. She whirled back to face her reflection in the mirror. //You are a major in the United States Air Force. *He* is your commanding officer. This is *not* a proper line of thought.//

As she stared into her own blue eyes, she wondered how long she could convince her heart to remain subservient to her mind.

***

Whistling to himself, Jack listened to his feet crunch against the gravel as he strode across the parking lot back to his hotel room. Having found a deck of cards, Daniel and Teal'c had opted to remain at the diner, brushing up on Teal'c's poker skills... which was fine with Jack -- or was it? Did he really trust himself alone with Carter?

//Probably not,// he thought. //But at least things will be interesting.// Shaking his head, he shifted the styrofoam box and cup in his hand, fumbling for his key. As he slipped it into the lock, the doorknob turned and the door jerked open. Carter stood before him, clad in a snug-fitting, v-neck tee shirt and boxer shorts, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "Hey, Carter," he managed. He furrowed his brow. "Getting ready for hibernation?"

Sam chuckled. "I couldn't get the air conditioner to shut off," she answered. "It looks like the knob was broken." She readjusted the blanket around her shoulders, tucking one leg under her as she seated herself on what was now "her" bed. "You run into Teal'c and Daniel?"

"Yeah," O'Neill answered, setting the box and cup onto the cheap table. He reached over and closed the door. "They're working on Teal'c's poker skills. Though, last I heard, he didn't really need any help."

"According to Daniel, it was beginners' luck," Sam replied. She rose from the bed and crossed to curl up in one of the chairs beside the table. She made sure to cover her feet and legs with the blanket. Satisfied, she then reached for the container of food and drink.

Jack flopped backward onto his bed, the springs protesting with several high-pitched squeals as he bounced once... twice. He tried desperately not to think about those lovely bare legs beneath the blanket. Lifting his head, he glanced to Carter. As he did, she took a large bite of the sandwich, washed down by a large gulp of the soda. "Hungry?"

"Starving. Amazing how being held captive by aliens can work up an appetite," Sam replied. She smiled and grabbed her sandwich. An involuntary shiver ran through her as the cold room temperature caused goosebumps over her arms. "I think even the base breakfast would be edible right now."

O'Neill grinned. "I could probably scrounge up some powdered eggs for ya if ya really --"

"No thanks... sir," she replied. Her blue eyes gleamed.

//Didn't she just hesitate?// Jack's inner voice asked. //That sir was a little slow in coming...// He chuckled, trying not to let himself read too much into Carter's diction. "I'm with you. I'd much rather have the real thing."

"Nothin' better than the real thing," Sam said, quoting one of her favorite songs. She put down her sandwich and bundled up under the blanket. "Is it just me, or is it getting to black flag in here?"

Jack frowned. Now that she mentioned it, it was getting a little cold. //Shoulda been a little more careful with the controls there, Jack boy,// he thought. A wry grin tugged at the corners of his lips, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "Need a little assistance eating there, Carter?"

Sam cut him a glare. Inwardly she melted as she recognized the gleam. "I'm fine, sir. Just a little... cold."

"You know what happens under winter black flag conditions, don't you?" O'Neill asked. He slid off the foot of the bed, crossing to join Carter. Kneeling at her feet, he rubbed his palms against her arms, creating heat from the friction. "All activity on base stops. No PT, no jeeps whizzing past, no work. Just holing up in your quarters... under a nice warm, blanket..."

Unseen forces had worked their magic as he spoke, drawing them together until her face was mere inches from his. Dark eyes searched blue, the conflict and desire mirrored. Very gently, he pressed his warm lips against hers.

He drew back slowly, unwilling to break the fragile spell which had befallen them. "You know the best way to keep warm, don't ya, Carter?" his voice was a low rumble.

"Transfer of body heat," she answered quietly. Hesitantly, she brought her hand up to rest against his cheek, searching his eyes with her own. As she did, her blue eyes glassed over. "Make me warm, Jack."

"Aye, ma'am," he replied. Leaning in for another kiss, he reveled in the gentle pressure of her lips against his, the tenderness with which her palm now rested against his cheek. Suddenly feeling as though he was floating through a dream, Jack timidly parted her lips with his own, deepening the kiss. He was rewarded with a soft sigh as their tongues intermingled; it was a foreshadowing of the moment they had been careening toward for months.

Pushing back the blanket Sam slipped her arms around Jack's neck, afraid to open her eyes. If she opened her eyes, she thought, surely he would disappear into her dreams the way he had on so many nights before? She abruptly felt his strong arms scooping her out of the cheaply-manufactured chair, holding her to his chest. His kisses trailed around the curve of her chin, down the curve of her neck; as he lowered her onto the bed, he blindly sought out her lips again, capturing them in a searing kiss.

Jack looked down at Sam, stunned by the gleam smoldering in her eyes. She was absolutely stunning when she was aroused, taking on an ethereal glow he thought only existed in fantasy. Holding that smoldering gaze with his own, he gently slipped his hands between her tee shirt and her skin. As he ran his hands along her sides, drawing the heather grey material over her head, he was amazed at how smooth her skin was. He tossed the tee shirt aside, moving in for another kiss.

...but Sam stopped him. Placing her index finger to his eager lips, she gave a lopsided grin. Still grinning she reached forward and untucked the orange-toned, long-sleeve shirt he wore, her own hands making contact with his bare chest. She sighed at the contact and his eyes closed. His tee shirt joined hers, making a puddle of cotton on the shag carpet.

He leant down, gasping as their almost-bare chests met, drawing her to him. She responded with a wry smile, turning him over onto his back. She then hovered above him a moment before lowering herself to a sitting position about his waist. Taking his hands in her own, she brought them to the clip of her bra, guiding his hands through the motions which released her breasts from their confinement.

Jack's eyes grew wide momentarily and he felt himself stiffen. His abs clinched as he forced himself up slightly, bringing his mouth to first her left breast, then her right, delicately razing his teeth across the hardening nipples; she tossed her head back with a sigh. If he was dreaming, his mind told him, he didn't want to wake up.

Sam ran her fingers through the closely cropped, salt-and-pepper hair she had come to know and love. She reveled in the as the hairs prickled against her palms, his lips warm and moist he trailed kisses up her chest to meet her lips in a passionate kiss. Blindly, she reached down and unbuckled the loose-fitting khakis he was so fond of. She broke away briefly as she helped him to squirm out of both those and his boxer shorts. They joined the growing pile in the floor.

"Well, that answers one question," she whispered, dusting her hand across his exposed manhood.

Jack's head jerked back and a moan escaped his lips as her hand made contact. "And what would that be?"

"Boxers or briefs," Sam answered. She leant down, grazing her lips across his bare chest. She met his chuckle with a grin. Jack then smothered the grin, pulling her lips to his in a hard, bruising kiss.

Wrapping one leg around hers, Jack used his leverage to flip Sam onto her back. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this proximity and this lack of clothing before he would bust. His eyes danced with both mischief and desire as he reached down and rid her of the final pieces of clothing which separated them. Sam grinned up at him. "Getting a bit insistent, Colonel?"

"Damn straight, Carter," O'Neill replied with his own grin. He reached down with his left hand, delicately teasing the soft mass of curls. Sam gasped, her hips arching toward his hand. "Seems like I'm not the only one getting insistent." Her response was a demanding kiss.

Holding her eyes with his own, Jack gently lowered his weight onto Sam, feeling the heat emanating from the warm, moist region which craved him most. As he slowly entered her, his eyes closed, revelling in the temperature which surrounded him, wrapping him in the most intimate of embraces; she moaned softly, moving her hips slightly to accommodate him.

"Sam," he whispered, slowly moving inside of her. He fought to open his eyes, looking down at the beautiful blonde beneath him. She looked back up at him hazily, the love and affection so recently admitted filling her eyes. Heavy lids finally shaded the blue irises from view as they began to move in rhythm: For every bit she gave, he took; and for every thrust, she drew him in further.

All around him, Jack could feel her warmth, her muscles expanding and contracting; his own anatomy rippled as his hips moved him within her. As the pressure built, so, too, did their rhythm. He moaned, his body seeking a way to voice the intermingling of pleasure and pain -- the pleasure of her embrace, the pain as he strove for release.

Sam's hands smoothed over his back, her nails occasionally scratching as he shifted with in her. A leg wrapped around his and she moaned as he shifted deeper. She could feel the ache in her body screaming out to her as he stimulated her, faster and faster; she grasped him tightly as her body tightened....

...and Jack felt every muscle in her body as climax struck her, her arms and legs freezing, immobile. The muscles around his manhood tightened as well, shuddering with the force of her orgasm; it was enough to send him careening over the carefully maintained edge. He thrust once into her, gasping as his own climax struck not in one wave, but two, as the warmth of his seed spilled into her.

Involuntarily, Sam shivered, her body suddenly tingling. She gasped for air as she held tightly onto Jack, fighting off the reality which threatened to extinguish the rosy glow of the intimate moments they had just shared. "Wow," was all she could manage.

"Wow?" Jack pulled himself onto his elbows, looking down at Sam. His eyes danced. "Wow? We've been fighting this for months and all you can say is, 'wow?' Come on, Sam... where are those SAT words I know and love?"

"I think we moved beyond words, Jack," Sam whispered. She smiled ruefully at him, smoothing her hand over the hair at the nape of his neck.

O'Neill sighed. There was going to be hell to pay for this, he knew. But that was then. For now, he wanted only to revel in the moment. Returning the rueful smile, he kissed the tip of her nose delicately. "I know, Sam." He grinned. "Got a quarter?"

******

The End.