"Lady In Red" By Kelly Siegfried

Date Written: July 1999

Author: K. Siegfried (Niamh)

Category: Drama, Angst, S&J Romance.

Spoilers: Hathor, The First Commandment

Season Info: Season One

Rating: NC-17 for adult sexual situations.

Content Warning: **WARNING** The following story contains explicit sexual situations. If you are offended by this type of imagery, DO NOT read! I repeat, this story contains explicit sexual situations. DO NOT read if you do not like this type of story or are under age.

Summary: Captain Carter gets a bit of revenge on the SG boys for the treatment she and the other ladies received under Hathor's visit with the assistance of a particular red dress.

Disclaimer: STARGATE SG-1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.

This story may not be posted elsewhere without the concent of the author. Exception: K. Siegfried's SG-1 Archives, Heliopolis, S&J RA.

Author's Note: Lyrics for the following songs: Running Wild (Joe Grey, Leo Wood, A. Harrington Gibbs) and Sweetest Taboo (Sade); used without permission.

xxxxx

Sometimes I think I need a frontal lobotomy.

Others, I think I’ve already had one because all traces of rational thought has escaped me without notice.

I don’t know why they do these things. Little parties they call morale boosters. To me, they’re an excuse to drink too much alcohol and make an ass out of yourself. This particular one was disguised as a Halloween party.

"Costumes are mandatory, Captain." The Colonel had flatly stated after the announcement was made. Took all of my self-preserving strength not to roll my eyes at him. He was the last person I figured to jump on that bandwagon and I was rather stunned.

So here I am, searching for a costume that’s been worn by far too many people. Nothing interests me at all, including that cheesy looking police one I just passed. Oh please! The more time that passed, the harsher I flipped through the hangers, becoming ultimately annoyed with the entire thing.

Then I found it. Tucked in the back behind a belly dancer costume. Red, sleek, strapless. Something inside me snapped and I giggled to myself like I was demented. It was frightening how closely it matched the dress I remembered. Gold scallops framed the top portion of the heavily boned corset, plunging deep down into a steep V. The red satin was biased at an angle, swirling over the bodice to make the whole dress take on a corkscrew appearance. Removing it from the rack, I was a woman possessed.

Pulling down the back, I looked for the tag and smiled. Perfect. Even the complementary jewelry was wonderful; a small arm band tipped with the head of a raven.

"Found something you like, miss?" The clerk smiled at me behind the counter and I nodded enthusiastically. Setting it down, I pulled my wallet from my purse.

"Ah, I remember this one. Hasn’t been rented in ages through. Not since the late Eighties and that ‘Walk Like an Egyptian’ thing." I chuckled, watching him write out the rent card.

"This reminds me of something." Or someone, I was going to say but thought better of it. "Just had to get it."

"Last name, miss?"

"Carter." He scratched it out on the tag.

"First?"

"Sam."

"Sam Carter. Okay. Will you be needing anything else?" Smiling devilishly, I nodded.

"You wouldn’t happen to have wigs, would you? I need a fire-red bob about shoulder length."

xxxxx

"You did what?" Janet looked at me, perplexed.

"Even got this pair of gold strappy sandals." I held them up by the ankle strap.

"You’re insane. Nuts. Certifiable."

"You’re just jealous." I teased

"Yes!" The shock was replaced by a large smile and she slowly shook her head. I had laid out my findings on my bed for her approval. "I’m wishing I had found it!"

Her hands traced over the red satin, finally lifting it up to hold against me. An eyebrow arched and she looked up.

"It’s freaky!"

"I know, it’s just like she left it here herself." I took the dress from her hands, flattening it against my body.

"You know what this will do, don’t you?"

"Make them never have one of these stupid Halloween parties again, with any luck."

"Possibly. But I’m thinking you’ll have every airman chasing you within a mile radius. Perfect opportunity to study if there’s any long term residual effects." Janet was smiling at me wickedly.

"To Hathor exposure? I thought her control ended shortly after she left." Janet lifted up the wig, placing it on my head, and shivered, the resemblance uncanny.

"Hey, if they do start chasing you, do you think you could send a few my direction?"

"You can have them all. I’m just in it for the revenge factor."

"Revenge factor?" I slipped the costume back into its bag, laying the wig out on the bottom. Opening up the closet door, I tucked it in a remote corner. Nobody was going to know I had that thing. Not yet anyway.

"I’m still a little upset with a few men who decided to lock us up." The sandals were reboxed and placed on the floor of the closet.

"That would be the General, Colonel O’Neill, Daniel, and—"

"Every other testosterone-OD’ed airman on base."

"Oh I want to sell tickets!" Janet started laughing. She was right though. There wasn’t any way to determine the reaction I’d get walking into that party dressed like Hathor. The wait would kill me.

xxxxx

"Did you get your costume yet?" He leaned close, a sly smile forming over his lips.

"Yes." Smirking, I tightened the straps to my pack, relocating their position across my shoulders.

"What did you get?" He toyed with his rifle, still smiling expectantly.

"I’m not telling you, sir." I shook my head at him, watching the agony cross over his face. He was like a little kid having to wait to open his birthday presents.

"Aw come on, Captain! I’ll show you mine if you show my yours?" His smile turned into a toothy grin.

"No way. It’ll wreck the surprise." The last chevron was encoded and the wormhole sprang to life, basking his face in a quicksilver glow. "You’ll just have to wait, sir."

"A nurse?" I started up the grating behind Daniel.

"Nope."

"I know, a cat!" He followed me, leaning over my shoulder so he could look at my face.

"No, sir." I shook my head, laughing.

"For crying out loud, Carter! What is it?" It was really beginning to frustrate him and I loved every minute of it.

"I’m not telling you, sir." I approached the even horizon, hearing him swear before I gated through.

xxxxx

"How was your trip, Colonel?"

"Very uneventful, sir." It was an understatement. The General had joined us in the embarkation room after we had returned. "Not even a rock for Daniel." O’Neill hitched a thumb over his shoulder at Daniel and I giggled as my fellow scientist fish-mouthed, blushing with his annoyance.

"Artifacts, Jack. Artifacts." I think everybody but Daniel knew the Colonel called them rocks just to get his goat.

"Nothing to report?" The General’s eyes fell on mine and I fingered the straps to my pack.

"I have air, soil, and a few vegetation samples to analyze, sir."

"Excellent. Please report to Doctor Fraiser for standard post-mission exams people. In lieu of base stand down this evening, we will reconvene for debriefing tomorrow morning." He looked down at his watch and smiled. "You have exactly two hours to get ready for the festivities. See you at nineteen-hundred hours, folks." And with that, the General left.

O’Neill looked at me. He grinned like a Cheshire cat and I suddenly felt like a mouse.

"Last chance, Carter."

"Sorry, sir." I returned my rifle to the munitions chief and made my way to the infirmary.

xxxxx

Okay, I don’t need to deliberate on this one any more. I am insane. Certifiable, to quote Janet.

And the damn tag lied. Size ten, my ass! If I inhale the zipper is going to pop. I had to push, squeeze, flatten, suck in, and contortion till I was able to get into it enough to get the zipper up.

But God, I don’t think my waistline has ever been slimmer. And all of that boning in the bodice gave me cleavage like I’ve never had before. To bad it was going to waste on a bunch of airmen I wouldn’t give the time of day to.

Yes, definitely insane.

A sharp knock at my door made me jump and look for my bathrobe. I didn’t want to be seen like this until absolutely necessary.

"Who is it?" My fingers checked the lock, just to make sure whoever it was on the other side wouldn’t come in without my expressed permission.

"Sam, it’s me, Janet. Open up!" Sighing in relief, I unlocked the door and pulled her into my room before locking it back up behind her.

"Well, you got it on?" She said eagerly, readjusting the cat ears on her head. I smiled, not feeling quite so ridiculous anymore. Janet was wearing a black body suit with a short silvery toile sarong at the waist. A long fuzzy tail curled from her tailbone and two velour ears sat on her fluffed hair. She smiled at me from beneath the drawn whiskers and black nose pad.

"Yes. I can’t move in it though." Reluctantly I drew the bathrobe off of my shoulders, throwing it on the bed behind me. She stumbled back slightly, her eyes wide, and I thought a certain part of my anatomy had decided to roam free. Looking down, I patted myself trying to figure out what she was so stammered over.

"What?" Not getting it, I looked up at her finally. She was nodding her head.

"Samantha Carter, sex kitten extraordinare! Who cares if you can’t move? Damn you look good!" Janet appraised me and I laughed. Oh God, can’t do too much of that.

"Can you help me with this? Make sure I have it on straight?" I picked up the wig and placed it on my head. She fluffed, turned, and preened until it was resting correctly. Carefully she clipped it to my hair beneath and I turned to the mirror.

She was right.

Definitely looking good.

And it was freaky!

Staining my lips blood red and drawing heavy lines of kohl around my eyes made me look almost exactly like her. Ready or not, here comes payback, boys.

"Sam, please tell me you’re going to use your powers for good, not evil." Janet giggled, helping me buckle the straps to the sandals.

"We’ll see." I smiled, pulling the door closed behind us, entering the hall. "We’ll see."

xxxxx

With my heart firmly lodged in my throat, I waited in a doorway, giving Janet enough time to get into the mess hall and take her spot to watch everything unfold. I was thinking that streaking through would be less frightening than this. Giving everything a last once-over, I set my mind on revenge.

Swallowing and taking a deep breath, I walked towards the doors, pushing both of them open at once. Slowly I moved in, letting the doors slip from my fingertips to shut softly. Resting my hands against my thighs, my lips parted slightly, and I tried to look as seductive as possible.

Talk about your grand entrances.

The only thing that lacked was the complimentary screech of music stopping. Voices hushed and all eyes turned to me. I wanted to crawl under the nearest table, but I held my ground. Besides, I would never be able to bend over enough to get under the table anyway.

If my actions had a court martialable offense, General Hammond would have had me arrested on the spot. Or should I say Al Capone? He looked like somebody out of a Mario Puzo book; the epitome of a Twenties gangster. His face turned beet red beneath the fedora and I flinched as he clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing in on mine. Looking for more hospitable grounds, my gaze fell on Daniel.

He took a step backwards and instinctively grabbed Teal’c’s arm. Poor Daniel looked whiter than a sheet, his eyes huge behind the glasses. He had to move a hand to his mouth to catch the pipe that fell from it. I smiled wider, recognizing what he dressed up as; Sherlock Holmes. Teal’c was his Dr. Watson, and the Jaffa looked between Daniel and I, an eyebrow raised in intrigue.

My eyes searched the crowd for him, the last one that needed a special torture all his own. Colonel O’Neill was nowhere. Cursing to myself, I took a slow step forwards towards Daniel who looked like he was going to faint.

Something slid against my right palm, and I gasped, taking a step sideways. He smiled at me like I was a prized mare, lifting my hand steadily to his lips. They pressed against my knuckles and I swallowed, watching his eyes trail up my arm till they leveled on mine. With a wink, a sly smile crossed O’Neill’s face.

"Bond, James Bond." Sans accent, I was still convinced from looking at him. He was wearing a white tuxedo coat with the signature red carnation.

"You may call us Hathor." I said as evenly as I could even though my heart was pounding against my compressed rib cage. Holding my hand out to the side, he appraised me, his eyes scanning up and down, his eyebrows dancing playfully.

"May I buy you a drink, my lovely Hathor?" He looped my hand over his arm, pulling me close against him. Slipping into character, I gave him my most enticing smile, rubbing my hip softly on his. If he wanted to play, he was going to have to do better than that.

"Yes, you may."

xxxxx

Daniel came over to me after the Colonel had left on a mission to talk to Lucky Luciano. I couldn’t help but smile at him as he said it, knowing he was referring to the General. Thinking better of making a crack about Bugsy Siegel not being around, I figured it would be out of character for me to have done anything other than give him my permission to leave.

"Good God, have you got courage." Sherlock Jackson sat down on the stool next to mine, his teeth clamping on the pipe in his mouth. "I thought the General was going to shoot you on sight when you walked in. It’s freaking me out just sitting next to you now." He shook his head and I smiled as I stirred my cranberry vodka. "But, I have to admit, you look... nice. Very nice." A blush rose to his cheeks that matched the shade of my wig. "Red’s your color, Sam." He quickly ordered a drink and took a slip, gasping as his tonic burned the back of his throat. One thing Daniel couldn’t do; hold his liquor.

Something about that dress did possess me. Suddenly I found myself looking out of the corner of my eye at the man sitting next to me, a small smile seeping across my face. What had it been like to be a DNA donor to the Egyptian Goddess of fertility, liberty, and music? He probably didn’t even remember much of it and from what I remember, the look on his face was enough to say to anyone he was lost out in la-la land. Feeling bold, I took a sip of my drink and turned towards him.

"Dance with me, our chosen." I held out my hand to him and he almost choked. The smile leeched from his face to be replaced by the stark whiteness again.

"That’s not funny, Sam." He pointed a finger at me.

"You’re right, it’s not. Sorry Daniel." I smiled at him, sliding off of my chair, still holding my hand out. "Come on, nobody’s asked me to dance. They all think I’m going to breathe on them or something." That made him smile, and I sighed in relief.

Standing, he set his drink next to mine and took my hand. "Do you blame them?"

"Not really." We did a little fast shuffle to the King Porter Stomp and I was amazed he didn’t remove my toes. For being such a klutz in the field, he has a pretty decent sense of rhythm.

"You’re not too bad. Would have never figured you as the dancing type." I said to him as he brought me in for a spin, pressing my back into his chest. Reaching up, I removed the pipe from his mouth as I recoiled, stretching away from him before he pulled me back.

"Elementary my dear, Hathor." His hand slid around my waist and I suddenly noticed how electrifying a touch across the boning on the dress could be. "The girls I lived with had to learn how to dance some how. I was the only one who’d do it." With all of the horrors he’s lived through, Daniel never ceases to amaze me. From the little that I know of his childhood, it wasn’t roses. In fact it makes me grateful for what I had as a kid. He gave me a smile and his eyes flashed behind his glasses, pulling me close for a low dip. I had to raise my hand to my hair to keep it on my head, letting out a surprised cry.

King Porter Stomp faded into Running Wild and Daniel raised me back to my proper upright position. I was about to reprimand him for that dip, but he looked over my shoulder, suddenly stopping. His hand tapped on my waist and I turned to meet the General’s face. He wasn’t a happy camper. Swallowing, I turned back to Daniel and gave him a strained smile.

"I’m thinking this isn’t a good sign, is it Daniel." He snorted, a small smile upturning the corners of his mouth.

"I’m thinking your thinking’s right." Giving me a slight shrug, his hands lowered from my waist.

"Captain Carter?" I turned to face the General as soon as he spoke. I didn’t think it would be good for my career to continue on with the Hathor charade, especially when the man looked like a small rottweiler had just bit him on the ass.

"Yes, General Hammond, sir?" I straightened myself up and snapped to hoping at least that conduct would help my case in whatever argument.

"May I have this dance, Captain?" Slowly the stern look washed from his face, replaced with a smile, and I let out the breath I was holding. Oh thank God! Daniel chuckled from behind me and I swiftly jabbed him with an elbow.

"I think I’m going back to my drink now." He left, consoling his stomach, leaving me with the General.

"It would be a pleasure, sir." Stepping forward, he tipped his hat to me before pulling me into his arms.

xxxxx

"Janet, have you seen Colonel O’Neill around anywhere?" I came up behind Doc and put my hand on her shoulder. The Airman she was talking to, dressed like a Scot, almost dropped his drink as he looked at me. I flashed him a terse smile. I was kinda worried about the Colonel, not seeing him since he introduced himself and bought me a drink.

"I think he went outside. Saw him earlier on his way up top." She looked at me with concern, but I flagged her off.

"I was just a bit worried about him, that’s all. Haven’t seen him in awhile." The Airman smiled at me and his eyes traveled the length of my body, suddenly making me feel like a piece of meat. I turned towards Janet, lowering my mouth to her ear.

"Watch this one. He wants to get laid." Chuckling, she shook her head at me.

"Yes, that was the intention, Captain."

Winking at her, I walked for the door.

I began to wonder what was eating at the Colonel enough to keep him away from a good party. Free booze, nice music, plenty of women. It didn’t make sense. Maybe this little get-up had effected him more than I realized. After all, he was the one who almost became the first Earth Jaffa. Damn, I didn’t mean to hurt them this much.

At least the General forgave me. Rather ingenious, Captain, I must say. I asked him how the plans for the Los Vegas casinos were going and he laughed, making comments about how Bugsy was taking care of that. It was nice to see the old man let down his hair. Daniel got over it rather quickly too. In fact, he was electing mine for best costume.

The thought had crossed my mind that I would get shot for wearing this dress. The ground level guard almost fell out of his chair; he couldn’t grab his rifle fast enough.

"At ease, Airman." I showed him my ID and he began to relax. Scribbling my name across the clearance sheet, he hesitantly unlocked the door for me and I shot him one last glare before walking through the gate.

I wanted a jacket. The night sky was unbelievably clear and crisp in the brisk October night and turning my back to the base lights, I was able to see just about every star in the sky. Breathtaking just wasn’t the word. That was probably what had brought the Colonel outdoors, knowing how much of a love he had for astronomy.

"Colonel O’Neill?" I stepped towards higher ground, almost stumbling from not watching where I was going. Hugging myself from the cold, I crested the small incline and looked around. Where the hell is he?

"Colonel O’Neill?"

"Shh, Carter, you’re wrecking it." I heard him behind me but didn’t have a second to react before his hand slid around my waist to rest on my stomach. Stepping close, he pressed his body against my back. Not knowing what to do, I waited for him to move, not wanting to blow it all out of proportion. No need to jump to conclusions here, Samantha.

"Wrecking what, sir?"

"The view. Look at that." His other arm lifted over my shoulder, pointing out a nebula of stars and I swallowed. What the hell was he doing? Looking up, my head brushed his shoulder.

"Nice, sir, but—" I took a step forward to break from the awkward embrace, but his hand against my stomach kept me still.

"Quit squirming, Captain. I’m trying to teach you something here." His voice lowered to an octave above whispering and I could feel his breath against the wig. Ah Jesus, he’s pissed and he’s trying to get back at me.

"See, there, over in the west. That’s Hercules, Ophiuchus, and Serpens." O’Neill shifted weight to turn himself slightly westward and I could feel his hip against my lower back. "Do you see it, Captain?"

"Yes." I let my arms rest at my sides. He wasn’t wearing his tuxedo coat any more. The Colonel had rolled up the sleeves on the shirt and our bare arms brushed against the other. I had to admit it was getting a bit interesting having him this close. I have always thought he was an attractive man, and more than once even entertained a thought of being this close to him, but my career was a little bit more important to me than bedding my CO. This is all sweet and innocent, Sam.

"And right above us is Pegasus and Cygnus." He pointed directly above and my head tilted back farther against his shoulder. "Lots of multicolored double and cluster stars in that one if you can see them." His head didn’t move to look in the same direction I was because I could feel his breath on my neck. My eyes closed and I tried to breathe.

"Why did you wear the dress?" O’Neill’s mouth was against my ear as he whispered. I restrained a shiver.

"You said costumes were mandatory, sir." I had to lick my lips to get them to answer and my voice betrayed my uneasiness. Pleasant, would take it over torture any day, but uncomfortable none the less.

"Yes, but you had to pick this outfit?" Slowly his arm lowered from pointing so he could lay his hand on my shoulder. His touch burned my freezing skin and I sucked in a tortured breath.

"I wanted to get my revenge for all of you locking us up." My heart pounded in my chest so hard I figured he could probably hear it.

"Samantha—" He breathed my first name into my ear and my heart stopped. "You did more than get your revenge." The arm about my waist lifted to my shoulder, and despite my brain screaming at me to run while I was free, I stood still. His fingers brushed against the red bob, pulling it backwards, exposing more of my neck to him.

"In fact, I can’t think of anything else I’d like to do more—" His other hand slipped from my shoulder and across my collarbone to my throat. "Than kiss you right now." And he did. O’Neill, Colonel, my CO, pressed his lips into my neck below my ear as his other hand stroked my throat. Holy Mary, Mother of God!

"Colonel." My voice was harsh and raspy, much weaker than I had intended. "Colonel. I don’t think this is--"

His hands grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him. Jack, and it felt so weird to think of him like that, was silhouetted with the complex lights behind him. His jaw clenched tightly as he looked down at me and I thought I could see his eyes. Fumbling over something to say, he gave up, lifting his hand to take my chin. Did I want this to happen as much as he did? Had it been all calumniating to this point? Was it this dress that made both of us finally break down? God only knows.

"Just for once, Sam. I don’t want to be alone." Leaning over, he pressed his lips to mine and it was like I was dying, my life flashing before my eyes. Dumbly I lifted my arms to surround his neck, flattening myself against him as I raised up on my toes. His hands passed over my bare back and beyond, following the traces of the boning in the corset and I fought to breathe.

Pressing me close, his tongue traced the line of my lips, waiting as I slowly granted him access to my mouth. In tentative steps his tongue met mine as his hand trickled down my spine to my behind. My hands found their way through his hair to wash over his shoulders and pull him closer as I felt his hand across my rear flex and massage. What the hell am I doing? His testosterone was clouding my judgement. If anybody caught us...

Forcefully I pulled myself away from him, stepping backwards to wipe my lips on the back of my hand. He looked hurt, shocked, a little disappointed.

"Colonel, are you nuts? We can’t be doing this!" I whispered harshly at him. "You’re my CO, for Christ’s sake!"

"Easy Captain." Unsure what to do, he just held out his arms.

"Sure, we might be attracted to each other—" I couldn’t believe I had just said that. "But we have to think of our careers!"

"I know." He said softly. I knew there was a but in there, but I didn’t let him say it.

"I’m sorry I got your hopes up, sir, but I can’t do this." Quickly I took a step sideways to walk around him and back to the complex. It was too bizarre to comprehend.

xxxxx

Walking back to the party, I debated going home. As far as I knew he was right on my heels chasing me. I couldn’t take another scene with him tonight. I had to clear my head, resettle my priorities, and get out of that damn dress. No wonder nobody had rented it; it was cursed!

Janet immediately knew I was upset and pulled herself away from a crowd of eager Airmen to join me at the bar.

"Did you find Colonel O’Neill?"

"Bombay Sapphire martini, four olives." I knocked on the counter and the bartender nodded his head. Licking my lips, I played with a small puddle of water that had formed from the condensation on the previous glass.

"Yes." I couldn’t look at her.

"And?" He slid the drink in front of me and my shaking fingers surrounded the stem. Janet’s hand covered the glass.

"Hey, I’m drinking this." I tried to bat away her hand, but her grip only tightened and she shook her head at me.

"And?"

"He’s fine." Finally I was able to peel her fingers off of the glass. Taking a strong pull from the drink, I swallowed and cut it with an olive.

"Sam." Her voice was low and she leaned in closer. "You’ve got lipstick on your face, not much mind you but it’s there, and some on your hand. What happened?" Determined to dull some of my ache, from what I wasn’t quite sure of, I took another large sip from the martini. Gin, good old gin.

"Janet, please. Not here." She nodded but refused to move, waiting for the ten minutes it took me to get my stomach settled enough to down the rest of the drink. By that time I had finished the other three olives and things were pleasantly beginning to fog.

"How about we go to my office?" Reaching over the counter, she picked out a bottle of wine from the cooler behind the bartender’s back and nursed it in her arm as she pulled me off of my chair.

"Sounds like a plan." Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, I followed her.

"Now, tell me what the hell happened!" I walked beside her down the hall, letting my fingers drag against the rough texture on the concrete walls.

"He kissed me, Janet."

"What?" Her hand on my bicep stopped me. "Kissed you?"

"Yeah. Guess the dress got him too excited." Smiling, I shook my head and it took a moment or two for the corridor to stop spinning.

"And what did you do?" Janet pushed me into an open elevator, stepping in behind me.

"Kissed him back."

"Sam!"

"Kinda hard not to when he’s got his lips plastered to yours." I leaned back against the railing and closed my eyes. The car began its slow decent to three levels below. "Hey, be proud. Could have gotten a whole lot worse if I hadn’t stopped him."

"Ah hell." Uncapping the bottle of wine, she took a mighty mouthful and passed it to me. Swallowing in one gulp, she sighed and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

"Liquor before beer—" I smiled at her and drank from the bottle like she had.

"Shut up and drink, Captain."

xxxxx

"So what the hell are we going to do about this?" We were both rather toasted at that point. I was contemplating my wig that had fallen off about three rounds of "Who Would You Do" ago, and I’m still not sure how we got on that topic. Oh yes. Sex. How could I forget?

"What do you mean, Doc?" She was spinning the empty bottle around on her desk, counting to see how many revolutions she could get before friction had ground it to a halt.

"About you and Jack."

"There isn’t any me and Jack. It was a mistake. Pure and simple." I raised my arm to slice through the air as a point and I almost fell out of my chair. Looking up at her I smiled, she smiled back, and then we started laughing.

"We are drunk, my friend."

"Totally smashed." I nodded in agreement.

"Sloshed."

"Pished."

"Got two gurneys around the staff room. I call the one on the right." She smiled. I was having difficulty bringing Janet into focus.

"Ooh sleep-over. Know any good ghost stories?" Slowly standing, I grabbed on the edge of her desk for support before reaching for her arm.

"Yeah, but I’m too tired to remember them." Together we stumbled our way to the staff break room and collapsed into our beds without further word.

xxxxx

"Sam, get up! It’s the Colonel. He wants to speak with you."

I sat up so quick it took my brain five minutes to catch up with me. My head felt like it was going to explode! I quickly lay back down and tried to keep from retching.

"What are you doing? You have to get up!" Janet’s whisper in my ear sounded like a scream.

"Who switched my body with Daniel’s? I used to be able to drink a whole lot more than a martini." Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms, I tried to get the pounding to subside.

"Dearest, you also partook in half a bottle of wine with me."

"Oh right." And finally it registered. "The Colonel? Oh God!" Opening my eyes I looked down at my body still siphoned into the red dress.

"You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?" I grabbed Janet’s arm, pulling her closer.

"No, of course not. I have him distracted. For how long, I don’t know. Now, come on, we’ve got to hurry." Helping me up, I held onto her to stop the world from spinning.

"What’s the plan, Doc?" I walked around a bit, trying to clear my head.

"One of two ways. Either I can have him pulled into the back for a routine series of blood work, or I can act like I’m taking a body down to the morgue."

"But wait a minute. Nobody’s died recently!" Panic was beginning to seep into my bones. There was no way in hell I was going to let the Colonel see me again in this dress.

"Well, then I guess he’s getting the blood work." She tossed me a medical gown. "Here, put this on and hike up the bottom of your dress." I complied and she tied it up in back.

"Okay, now hang out here while I get the ball rolling. You better prey he never finds out about this!" Nodding, I sat back down on the bed and cradled my head in my hands as she walked out the staff room. Remind me never to go to one of these parties again, even if it is an order.

xxxxx

I had safely managed to sneak my way out of the infirmary and back to my quarters without incident. The poor Colonel hadn’t been so lucky. I could hear him swearing a blue streak as I left, cursing the nursing staff for the inhumanity he was suffering. Janet had chastised him like a pro and I was surprised at the restraint the woman had shown. I would have for sure slapped him upside the head if I was her.

My body began to decompress as soon as the tab to the zipper had been lowered as if the dress was acting as the bones to support me. Tossing the wretched thing in the back of the closet, I slipped on my robe and headed for the showers, looking forward to a long soak. Would give me perfect opportunity to think about all of it too.

Flipping the occupancy sign to pink, I crossed to my locker and pulled out my shower kit. All I wanted to do was to wash last night completely out of my mind. Calgon, take me away...

I couldn’t even lift my arms that much to properly shampoo my hair I was so tired. Therefore I just rested against the tiles and let the water pound on me. And the activity that my limbs lacked, my brain made up for. Oh God, did it make up for it! All I could feel was his hand around my waist, his breath against my ear, and the taste of his lips. Somehow I could still sense his lean body pressed up against me, each curve of his fitting snuggly against one of mine. I was smiling, but I didn’t care.

What got to me the most was how lyrical my name sounded when he said it. Especially in that context. Samantha. I could hear his voice in my head and my heart started to pulse. That, mixed with the feel of his long fingers as they slid across my bare skin was enough to torture me all over again. My heart sped to sixty mph in my chest as I thought of his tongue in my mouth once more.

Oh God, get a grip, Captain. He’s your CO. He’s your friend. You will not have impure thoughts about Colonel O’Neill...

It was like asking Daniel not to drink coffee.

Somehow through the estrogen-induced haze, I was able to shower at least semi-decent and get myself in my robe to wander down the hall again. Maybe if I could curl up in my bed and fall asleep, I will wake up to find it all a rather pleasant dream….

Unlocking my door, I stepped in, shutting it behind me. I pilfered through my dresser to find something comfortable to wear to bed, eventually slipping my exhausted body into a pair of sweat shorts and a tee.

Not realizing until I was beyond comfortable in my bed that I hadn’t locked my door, I drifted off into the abyss of sleep.

xxxxx

Stretching wearily, my eyes slowly opened to rest on my alarm clock. Fifteen twenty-two hours. Not bad for a nap and my brain was searching for the reason of the nap. Martini, wine, Janet, sick bay, Jack... Jack? Oh my God. Growling, I sank my face into the pillow and rolled over slowly. Humorously, I wondered why I hadn’t gotten hit by lightening yet.

I must have a sixth sense that kicks in at weird times. I had the intense feeling that I was being watched and slowly I opened up my eyes to check my room. Won’t this nightmare ever end? He sat in the chair near the door, patiently waiting. Giving him a weak smile, I closed my eyes and buried my head under the pillow.

"Carter, come on, get up. We need to talk." O’Neill was all business again.

"How did you get in here?" I said from beneath the pillow. I couldn’t quite understand why I wasn’t upset the man had entered my room, watched me sleep for who knows how long, and suddenly demand that I get out of my comfortable bed.

"You left your door unlocked."

"Terrific." I gradually brought myself out from beneath the pillow and rolled over onto my back. Somewhere a wish to have him join me surfaced, but I squashed it quickly. "Just friggin’ terrific."

"Excuse me, Captain?"

"Sorry, sir." Raising myself up on my elbows, I looked down my body and over my feet at him. A newly applied gauze pad rested at the joint in his arm and I winced. May heaven have mercy on my soul if he ever found out I was the one who set him up for it. He meant business. I could see that in his face.

"Hop to it, Captain."

Sitting up, I ran a hand through my damp hair and wished for half a dozen painkillers. When the room slowed to a stop, I slid my legs from beneath the blankets and carefully stood. Standing before him, I stood at my full height, giving him attention as best as I could under the conditions.

"Yes, sir?"

His face was in partial shadow from my desk lamp that I had left on, so all I could see was his jaw and lips. Tentatively his mouth moved as if he was trying to formulate something to say to me. His lips parted before setting in a thin line and I figured he felt nothing to say was better than saying too much. The Colonel stood and my heart traveled to my throat.

"Christ Carter, did you swallow a board or something. Relax." He crossed to my dresser and set down a small folded piece of paper. O’Neill’s fingers hesitated over the paper, flexing as if he wanted to pick it back up. They nervously picked it up again, turning it over to set down as a steeple.

And in what I can only describe it as, he looked over his shoulder at me in the stance of a worn prizefighter. His shoulders were square and straight, his arms returning to his sides to brush against his body, but his stomach curled in making him hunch over just a bit. His feet a little more than shoulder’s width apart, he looked like it was all he could do to remain standing.

"Take it or leave it, Sam. The decision is yours." With a slight nod of his head, he indicated to the piece of paper sitting on my dresser. My eyes met his and I didn’t know what to think. I have never seen such raw emotion in the man like I did then. His eyes usually held one of three flavors; raging inferno, absolute zero, or wickedly playful. I saw a man who was alone in his misery and it was slowly eating him up from within. I glanced at the paper then back up at him and the wall had been raised again.

"Oh, and you forgot this in the infirmary last night." His other hand tossed me my wig and I wanted to die. Tumbling it over my hands I gave him a sheepish smile. O’Neill fingered the bandage on his arm before turning towards the door.

And he left. Unhurried and precise, but he left. When the door had gently latched behind him, I nearly vaulted my bed to get to the dresser. Pieces of paper can’t be that bad, right? My fingers shook terribly as I unfolded the paper to see his handwriting etched out in black ink.

Clear, concise, and to the point. Oh God, what have I done?

xxxxx

I think I need a full psyche analysis because I'm seriously considering accepting his dinner invite. I had managed to avoid humanity up until the point that I had left for home when I ran into Janet in the parking lot.

"Sam!" I tried to act like I hadn't heard her, but I knew she wasn't that dumb.

"Hey Janet." Putting my key into the door, I tumbled the lock.

"I'm glad I caught up with you." Janet was panting, obviously had to run to meet up with me. "How did it go with the Colonel?" Sighing heavily, I tried to decide if I should leave her out of the loop. She already knew about the kiss, but I couldn't live with myself if knowing about the dinner invitation could mean damaging her career. But, in all senses of the word, Janet was my best friend. I needed her support through this and above that, I valued her opinion. If she thought I was nuts, she would tell me.

Rummaging through my jeans pocket, I found the note and passed it to her. With intense curiosity, she unfolded it, revealing O'Neill's message. Her jaw dropped to the ground.

"What do you think I should do, Janet? I mean, Jesus! I'd be safer swimming in a tank of sharks with bloody meat strapped to me! It's getting to the point where I'm kinda liking my career right were it is. This blows up in my face, I'm S.O.L.!" I opened up the door to my car and threw in my bag.

"And if it happens to turn out to be the most rewarding and loving relationship you have ever been in, then what are you going to say?" Janet rested her hands on the top of the door and gently smiled at me. God, I hate when she's right.

"Sam, do you love him?" I looked at her and fish-mouthed. I didn't know, honestly. The attractions were there; we got along together, but love him?

"Hell Janet, I don't know."

"Do you want to explore the possibility?" I don't think my heart could say yes fast enough. I couldn't remember the last time I had been with a man; probably in all most likely cases the same amount of time Jack had been without his wife. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl....

"I had been thinking about it."

"Then do it. Life's way too short not to take the opportunities it dishes you." Her hand covered mine and gave it a squeeze. "If I had only heard that advice when I married my ex, I wouldn't have married him in the first place." I looked down into her brown eyes and thanked my lucky stars she did care about me. She was right. I'd be kicking myself if I didn't at least test the waters to this.

"Besides, if he hurts you, I promise to give him a urology exam he'll never forget." Winking at me, she clicked her tongue. It almost brought me to tears I was laughing so hard.

"Thanks Janet, I needed that."

"You're welcome. That's what I'm here for." Sitting down in my seat, I rolled down the window before shutting the door. She took a step back and dug out her keys.

"Just have to remember not to jump in too fast."

"Yes. Please be careful, Sam. You both are on very unstable ground here. If you're hesitant about anything, let him know. He'll understand because I'm sure he's just as scared as you are." She reshouldered her purse and turned toward her car. I gave her a smile and waited until she was safely in her car before driving off for home.

xxxxx

His note sat on my dresser at home much in the same way it had sat at the base. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I contemplated the meaning as I looked at it. Tightening my robe around my body, I squeezed the excess water out of my hair with the towel wrapped around my shoulders. Why did this thing charm me so?

Perhaps the thought that it had made him humble enchanted me the greatest. He had given that note to me as if he was a boy in grade school passing a note in class to a girlfriend. Unable to make himself express them, he had brought me his words on paper hoping they would say what his mouth wouldn’t.

What would make a six foot two, hundred ninety pound, Special Ops trained, U.S. Military Colonel bring himself to dropping that crusty exterior if there wasn’t some truth in his actions? If this had all been a game to him, it would have been easy as cake for him to ask me out on this date.

Smiling to myself, I crossed to my closet. Now, what the hell to wear.

Definitely nothing red, sleek, or strapless.

Heading toward the direction of conservative, I plucked out a little stretch knit sweater set and threw it back on the bed. Flipping through the hangers I looked for the black skirt I knew I had somewhere. Just as my luck would have it, it was one of the very last in the rack. Cursed position, I tell you. Never take anything from the last of the rack; it’ll get you in trouble.

After pulling on my clothes, I inspected myself in the mirror, smoothing a hand over my stomach. Somewhat impressed that my look was completely opposite of the other night, I padded into the bathroom to dry my hair and put on make-up. Staring at my reflection, I swiped a towel over the condensation, and took a deep breath. You’re insane, Samantha. I hope you realize that.

I’m not exactly one to get nervous over anything. I’m rather nonchalant when it comes to every day things and this should have fit in that category. Instead, a pit of neurotic energy opened up in the bottom of my stomach, churning and bubbling until I thought I was going to retch where I stood. He’s just a man. How could the thought of him have this power over me?

Smoothing a light salmon color over my lips, I stood back and fiddled with my hair. Why did this matter to me so much? This should feel like any other date I have ever been on. Perhaps it was because Jack O’Neill wasn’t like any other man I’ve ever been with. They pulverized the mold when they made him.

Snatching up my purse, I placed a couple necessities inside, including a few of one item that I tucked into a remote zippered pocket. Perhaps I’d forget they were there and think twice if the evening came to that. It was a toss up. My feelings could go either way on the subject and at that moment, I was happy to be balancing on the wire.

I slipped my feet into a pair of black mules and slid my leather coat over my shoulders. Tying the strap about my waist, I took one last look at my reflection before marching into battle.

xxxxx

I arrived early. He had arrived even earlier. Tre Grazie was a little secluded Greek restaurant on the northern side of town; safe enough distance away from the base that it would be a snowball’s chance of anybody recognizing us. Frankly, I was relieved by his discretion.

Sitting in my car in the parking lot, I tried to calm my heart down as I recognized his truck in front of the building. I hadn’t even turned off the engine to my car yet. Still didn’t know if I was going to go through with this ludicrous plan and potentially disastrous end of my career. I had to find out why he had kissed me though. Even if it meant walking in there to demand an answer.

My fingers shook around the key as I slowly turned the car off and released my foot from the break. Tapping the ignition slightly, I finally pulled the key out and clutched it in my hand. Just tell me why you kissed me, sir.

Reaching for the latch, I pulled it back and grabbed my purse. I could turn back now or get out and go through with the madness. You know you’ll always regret it if you don’t go, Sam.

Cautiously optimistic that I’d regain my sanity before making it to the door, I crossed the road, smoothing my clothing and jacket over my body. My hand reached for the door latch and all was lost. The churning in my stomach grumbled double time.

"Table for one, ma’am?" The hostess asked as I stepped into the dining area, my eyes scanning the crowd as casually as I could for him.

"Ah, no. Meeting somebody and I actually think he’s here already. Tall, slender, graying at the temples, about middle age—"

"Wicked sense of humor?" She smiled wide, nodding her head.

"Yes. That would be him." I returned the smile and blew out a tense breath as she turned to guide me to the table. Leave it up to him to pick the most remote table in the room; the far back right hand corner. The sudden movement toward him caught his attention and he looked up from the menu he was studying. Slowly he stood as I approached the table.

"Hi, glad you came." Relief washed over his face like a tidal wave as he smiled at me. I unknotted the tie around my waist and shrugged the jacket off of my shoulders into his awaiting hands.

"Couldn’t pass up a deal for free food, you know." He pulled out a chair for me, waiting till I had made a motion to sit before he shuffled it beneath me.

"Very funny." Giving a slight tug to his pant legs, he sat back in his chair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so dressed up before outside of dress blues and the sight made the night even more agonizing for me. Why did he have to look so damn handsome? The black shirt creased in a most fascinating manner as he leaned forward to pass me his menu.

"I hear the spanakopitas aren’t half bad here."

I took the menu from his hand and wished my nerves were as rock steady. It began shaking so much, I had to lay it down on the table next to my plate. "Spanako-what?" My IQ of Greek food stopped at feta cheese.

"Spanakopitas. Spinach, onions, mushrooms, garlic, and stuff wrapped up in filo dough. Not too bad." He smiled at me, raising a nervous hand to scratch at his temple. "Spent some time in Crete a long time ago."

I didn’t doubt it. Special Ops Forces usually see the world six times over before they retire.

"I haven’t eaten much in the way of Greek food other than my aunt’s baklava, and it isn’t even that good." Smiling, I slipped my hands beneath the table to wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. Come on, Sam, relax. He isn’t going to bite you.

"Well if you trust me that I’m not going to poison you, I can order for us."

"Okay, because I don’t have any idea where to begin." Closing shut the menu, I resituated it at my other side, closer for the waitress to pick up. Chuckling, he shook his head.

"You look nice, Cap—Carter." It was good to see him having as much trouble with it all as I was. I smiled pleasantly.

"Thanks, um ah, Jack." His face spread into a lopsided grin and he looked down into his hands. He didn’t look too bad himself. Black oxford shirt, dark khaki trousers; I thought I saw a belt. "Not too shabby yourself."

"Clean up well, don’t I?" The situation was turning ugly. He was nervous, I was nervous. Actually I was about ready to gag I was so wound up.

"Look, sir I—" My finger etched a design in the white tablecloth.

"Jack."

"What?" His interruption broke my train of thought.

"Jack. Call me Jack."

"Jack, I don’t think—"

"Shh, Sam. You made it this far, at least let me buy you dinner and then we can discuss. Okay? Truce?" His hand smoothed over the table towards mine to touch a tentative fingertip against my thumb. I looked at it. His fingers were so extended and slender, long in the last joint and tipped with a trim nail. Ah Jesus, why does he have to have such nice hands? Why can’t he have fat little fumbling stubs for fingers? Slowly my gaze followed his arm, the texture of ripples in the shirt, to his face, and finally to his eyes. A rich sea of mahogany opened for me.

"Alright. Truce." My mind was screaming out Morse code for SOS. All hands abandon ship!

"Sweet." His head nodded slightly as his face spread into a wider smile and his hand retreated. "What’s your opinion of squid, Sam?"

"As in the animal or Navy personnel?"

O’Neill started laughing, raising his hand to his brow. At least I still had my sense of humor even if I was certifiable.

xxxxx

Aglaea, Euphrosyne, and Thalia. Tre Grazie, The Three Graces; splendor, mirth, and good cheer. Yes, I know. You’d think I’ve been paying too much attention to Daniel. But it wasn’t him who told me what they were; it was O’Neill, going into the meaning of the restaurant’s name.

"Kinda sick how she came about. Uranus was castrated by his son Cronus." He took a sip of coffee and I almost snorted mine.

"What?"

"Don’t tell me you never heard how Aphrodite was born." I felt fat. Extremely fat. I don’t think I have ever eaten so much in my entire life but it was well worth it. The food was incredible from the artichokes with dill to the apple baklava. Blowing across the top of my coffee, I took a tentative sip of the strong brew.

"No, I haven’t actually."

"Uranus was the father of the Gods. Cronus was his son and Zeus’ father. Being fearful that one day his children would live to overthrow him, Uranus threw them into the underworld. Gaia, his wife and also mother, wasn’t exactly thrilled about this and planned with Cronus for a little pay back. The boy castrated his father and threw his... er parts, into the sea."

"What does that have to do with Aphrodite?"

"She was born from the churning and foaming of the sea. You know, Botticelli’s Birth of Venus where she’s riding on the seashell?" Had to hand it to the man; he knew his mythology. Hung around Daniel enough to pick up on a few things, that’s for sure.

"Did some sight seeing while you were in Crete?" I smiled at him, setting my cup down to redistribute the sugar in it with my spoon.

"Yes. Lots of rocks. Daniel would appreciate it." An eyebrow arched in my direction and I laughed.

"You’re going to make him have kittens one of these days, sir." It slipped from my tongue before I knew it. He looked at me, a small smile seeping across his lips. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, you know."

"Understandable. Remember, you’re talking to somebody who smoked like a chimney for most of his adult life." That I couldn’t imagine. I just wasn’t able see him dragging on a cigarette.

"What made you quit?" Nicotine really is an addictive substance and I knew it usually took an amazing act of will power to quit smoking especially after having done it for so long.

"Skaara." He folded his fingers together, leaning his elbows on the table.

"Skaara?"

"Yeah. Practically busted a gut when he bummed one off of me. He tried so hard not to start coughing, but couldn’t hold it in. Thought the poor kid’s head was going to explode. He cursed the thing as he stomped on it, and I figured he was probably right." His fingers worked the buttons to his cuffs and he rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbows. "Besides, I gave him my lighter anyway."

"Shame I wasn’t there."

"The kid’s a trip." The smile slowly leeched from his face and I could tell he was getting uncomfortable. I knew Skaara meant a lot to him; a subtle reminder of his son. And the fact that Skaara now carried a Goa’uld didn’t help things either. Taking a deep breath, I headed toward safer ground.

"So what made you decide to dress as James Bond?" I rested my chin on my hand and my elbow on the table, leaning forward. Wrapping my ankles around the chair leg, I played with a fallen leaf from the centerpiece on the table. The smile slowly returned to his face.

"Childhood hero, I guess. Big Ian Flemming fan."

"I thought maybe Sean Connery."

"Yeah, that too." The waitress brought the check and he dug out his wallet. Now came the difficult problem. Escaping with the least amount of embarrassment. "He’s a chick magnet. I was jealous." His eyebrows arched playfully as he tucked his Visa into the bill fold.

"Not to mention all the cool toys." This was the part of the date I always hated. How exactly do you end it? It was itching on him too; I could just sense it.

"No, just the girls." He said flatly and I started laughing.

We fell unceremoniously into silence. He sipped down the rest of his coffee as I shredded the poor leaf in my hand. Fearing that we would lock in a deep stare, I avoided his eyes, waiting for the eternity of mutually enforced muteness to pass. Setting the cup gently back on its saucer, he set the spoon across the back.

"Sam, about last night." He cleared his throat before speaking, his voice shaky.

"Jack, I—" I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to finish the sentence if he gave me the chance to.

"No, let me have my say." His voice was stern, falling into Colonel O’Neill again. Looking up, his eyes met mine and I swallowed.

"I overstepped my bounds and I hope you accept my apology." Nothing was betrayed in his cool exterior and a small part inside of me sank to the floor. I guess I had nothing to worry about after all.

"Accepted." I gave him a smile and could feel the corners of my mouth begin to quiver. Come on Sam, you knew this couldn’t happen. He’s realizing it too.

"But—" He released a long and torturous breath. "It was one of the best things I’ve ever done." Slowly his tongue traced over his lips waiting for my response.

What? I just tried to keep breathing.

"Jack, I can’t... I can’t do this. I have to think of my career." I stumbled over the words, opening and closing my mouth like an idiot. "I’m flattered... but I’m sorry."

I could see the pain spread over his face briefly before the soldier within took over. Setting his jaw, his eyes hardened and he was no longer Jack O’Neill, but Colonel O’Neill, my CO.

"I think I’d better go." Reaching for my jacket, I stood; the pounding of my heart beginning to deafen me. "Thank you for dinner, sir. It was lovely." I weakly offered before turning my back to him and walking out, nearly on the verge of tears.

xxxxx

I managed to get into my car and drive far enough away from the restaurant so I could pull over to the side of the road and think. And cry. I was crying like a sixteen-year-old who just got dumped by her first boyfriend. Rummaging through the glove compartment, I found some tissues and began the slow process of digesting all that had happened. Kissing me was one of the best things he’s ever done? Oh God.

Turning towards my door, I looked up at the stars, rolling down the window. The cold air felt wonderful on my face, caressing the moist tear tracks until I shivered. My gaze fell on Hercules in the heavens and I closed my eyes. Why couldn’t that astrology lesson been sweet and innocent? Why did it have to end in a kiss?

I didn’t even hear the song begin over the radio, just the supple slide of the first two lines into my subconscious:

My fingers reached for the volume control and the animal within wanted to rip the whole radio out of the dash. I was not in the mood for a cheesy love song.

They twitched on the knob. Slowly my muscles lost the power to hold my arm out and it fell against the shifter, my hand encircling the stick. The DJ was a masochistic sonofabitch to be playing that song.

Why was I even deliberating about this? I should have squashed the incident shortly after it happened and never decided to go to dinner with him. If anything, I had encouraged his behavior by playing into his delusions.

Delusions of grandeur. Damn you, Jack! Why couldn’t it have been anybody else? Putting my head against the rest, I closed my eyes and my mind went back to the hillside. The bucket seat transformed into his body below me; the seatbelt suddenly feeling like an arm.

A sensual breath of wind passed by me from the window and I gasped. Its cool fingers curled over my neck then around my throat to tease my collarbone. It was no longer the wind, but his breath passing over me.

"Jack." Moaning his name, I opened my eyes again, shifting to first before raising my hands to the steering wheel.

And I never did get my reason why he kissed me. Can’t just lock lips with a girl and expect her not to wonder. Drying the last of my tears with the back of my hand, I turned around on the road and headed back towards town, back towards Jack’s house. He was going to give me an answer if it had to beat it out of him.

And damn you Sade for this song!

xxxxx

I lost my nerve.

Sitting in my parked car, I looked at his home from four houses down, chewing on my thumbnail as I leaned my elbow against the armrest. I should just go home and not think about it; slip into a hot bath and head to bed. God knows I needed the sleep. Eleven-twenty; twenty-three twenty hours. What am I doing?

His face kept reappearing to me. It flashed before my eyes like a slo-mo movie, pointing out frame by frame the exact instant I had crushed him. He only had himself to blame. If it weren’t for that little tease on the hill, it wouldn’t have had to come to this. To hell with him. I had to get out of this situation with my own body and mind intact without having to worry about his too.

I think I was angrier with myself than with him. I knew better than to even remotely entertain the ideas in my head and being here was a cardinal sin. But here I was, staring at his house like I was a stalker, watching for movement and signs of life. I must be a fucking glutton for punishment.

My car suddenly dropped tones in idle, sputtering as the carburetor slipped. Panic clouded over my anger as my eyes shot to the dash display. The little warning light beaconed monotonously next to the bold ‘E’. Stammering with a final shutter, my car died.

"Dammit!" I smashed both palms into the steering wheel. Turning off the ignition, I pulled the keys and shut off the headlights. Just the perfect ending for a perfect evening I had hoped for. In all of the melodrama, I had forgotten to get gas. Stranded, I had one of two options. One, I could bother one of his neighbors to use their phone to call a tow; or two, bite the preverbal silver bullet and confront the man.

You know, come two days from now, you’re back on duty and have to see him anyway. You going to discuss it with him then with Daniel and Teal’c looking over your shoulder?

Flipping down my visor and switching on the dome light, I looked at my face in the mirror. My eyes were still horribly bloodshot and mascara darkened my upper and lower lids so I looked like a heroin addict, but I didn’t care. At least he’d see what he had done to me. Don’t men ever think before they act on some base instinct?

I pushed the hem of my skirt to my knees as I stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut with a push from my hip. Reaching out, my hand steadied my body on the hood and I thought I was going to get sick. For Christ’s sake, you’re thirty-three. It’s not like this is the first man you’ve ever cared about. Taking a step towards his house, I tried to breathe.

Care about? What? No, I can’t care about him. I’m not supposed to. He’s an attractive, intelligent man who cares about you. Why not? Because, he’s my fucking commanding officer, that’s why! That’s obviously not bothering him. Yeah because if it goes sour, he’s not going to get demoted! I will!

My legs wobbled as I walked; burning and rubbery as if I had just run a 29k marathon. Licking my lips, I tried to soothe my dry mouth. With a quick press on the automatic key for the car, my doors locked with a chirp and the lights flashed once. My heart pounded harshly in my chest and it was difficult to breathe.

Come on, like you’ve never thought about it? Remember that time on P9C752; we all went swimming in that lake after dragging ourselves through miles of swamp? You thought he was Adonis himself rising out of that water without his shirt on.

I reached the driveway. Walking towards his truck, I brushed gentle fingertips against the tailgate. Following the contoured metal, my fingers reached the diamond etching on the plastic light covers, and I pressed harder against it until my skin was raw. Please let me wake up and tell me I’m home, in my bed, having a bad nightmare.

Hesitant to move, I waited by the door, silently hoping he would just find me there. Nothing stirred. A few lights were on but it was deathly silent as I stood, the only thing making any sound being my heart and the blood rushing to my ears. Combining whatever nerves I had left, I set my knuckles to the door, the sound louder than I could have imagined.

It remained silent. My heart let up in my chest just long enough for my lungs to heave in a much needed breath. A little part of my brain began to cheer because if there was no Jack, there’d be no confrontation and I could keep the few shreds of sanity I had remaining in tact. Fat chance.

The inner workings of the lock began to chatter as the knob turned and I stopped breathing. He had decided to answer after all. Steadily it opened, shedding light on me, and casually he stepped out from behind the door. He looked just as disheveled as I felt; shirt tails untucked, a few buttons undone from the collar, and shoes removed. Measured surprise washed over his inflexible features.

"Carter." He said flatly, his head nodding once.

"May I come in?" My voice cracked in my throat.

"Sure, what the hell." Stepping to the side, he motioned with is arm. I walked past him and could immediately feel the heat in the room surround my bare legs. He had made a fire in the fireplace.

"Drink?" Passing by, I could already tell he had started to drown his sorrows, the spicy aroma of alcohol washing over me.

"Sure, why not." I was already playing with fire; might as well make it an inferno.

The bottle of Jameson was already three-fourths empty. He placed a few ice cubes into a glass before pouring more than I’d ever drink into the glass, cutting it down till the cup was almost full with seltzer.

"Take a seat." He said at me as if it was an order. Lifting my hands to my shoulders, I slowly peeled my coat off, readjusting my shirt. Setting it over a chair, I dropped my purse next to it and followed him into the living room. The knot in my stomach pulsed and throbbed, consuming more of me.

I refused to sit. Picking up the drink he had set on the coffee table, I crossed my arm over my chest and cradled it, staring into the fire. Immediately entranced, I watched the flames lick the wood, curling up into nothingness. Placing the glass to my lips, I sipped the whiskey, acutely aware of the burn of alcohol and his eyes on my back.

"Why did you kiss me?" I could feel the heat from the fireplace beat against me; my legs, face, and neck becoming agonizingly hot.

"Why not?" I turned slightly. A playful smile crossed his face. Leaning forward in his chair, he rested his forearms on his thighs, carrying his drink in his hands. The amber color in his glass was much darker than mine and it was half-empty.

"I’m serious. Why did you kiss me?" I said slowly, deliberately, precisely, showing no expression. Dammit Jack, just answer the question honestly. Washing a hand over his face, he set down his drink on the table beside him and leaned back. Looking down into his hands, he chewed on his lip. He always had to make things so difficult.

"I don’t know." O’Neill said softly, rubbing out the creases in his palm with a thumb. Exasperated I turned to fully face him, taking a strong pull from my glass. I swallowed and nearly gagged on it. Sucking in a strangled breath as it burned like fire down my throat, I hardened myself. His eyebrow raised in concern as I washed the back of my hand over my mouth.

"Bullshit!" I said, regaining composure. "You do too know or you wouldn’t have done it. I know you, Jack! You calculate every thing out to the nth degree before doing anything!" His eyes widened slightly at my outburst before steeling again. "So tell me why?" I didn’t realize I was breathing hard until a deathly silence fell between us.

His eyes didn’t waver from mine. O’Neill’s jaw flexed as his teeth ground and his gaze changed between narrowing and widening at me. Slowly his mouth opened as it motioned towards words.

"Tell me why!" Demanding, I stepped closer until I was able to set my drink on the table next to him. He cringed, his head turning to the side as his eyes fell to the floor. "Jack!" The hand on his face gripped his chin until his knuckles were white. "Tell me!" My hands fisted at my sides and I stepped closer. His eyes flashed back to mine in a white-hot rage.

"Need I remind you, Captain, you’re a guest in my house? I don’t appreciate that tone." Out of sheer fright I wasn’t able to step backwards as he stood, his voice calm and measured, laced with guarded anger. Defensively, my hands raised to occupy the breath of space between our bodies.

"I just need to know, please." As softly as I could, I spoke to him, willing myself to look into his eyes. My two inches of added height and his lack of shoes almost made us level. The encroachment on our personal space felt extremely awkward; a forced closeness by the chair behind him and the inability of my legs to move. The furrow in his brow deepened and he struggled.

"Oh Christ, Sam." He mumbled under his breath, his eyes fading from mine to the floor again. "I don’t know."

His hand brushed against my arm and I was able to find the ability to move out of panic, thinking he was coming at me again. Giving him an exit, he stepped pass me and approached the fireplace, stuffing his hands deeply into his pockets. Sighing heavily, his head bowed as he contemplated the flames.

"I hadn’t intended it. Just kind of happened." O’Neill said simply as he rocked slowly on his heels. Turning toward him, I waited. His shoulders slouched and he looked defeated.

"You remind me a lot of Sara." Slowly his head turned and he regarded me out of the corner of his eye. "I’ve been... very lonely lately and thinking about her." He looked back at the fire.

"I can’t be a replacement, Jack." I tried to say it without shock or as a taunt, but it passed my lips sounding rather harsh. Swallowing, I closed my eyes and tried to continue breathing.

"Don’t you think I know that, Sam? That’s why I waited. I didn’t know if I was passing these feelings off onto you because we’re so close. I mean, work closely together. I started seeing things in you that I loved in her and it brought back a flood of emotions." Jack’s right hand lifted from his pocket to rub his eyes.

I was numb. I felt like a tool. My jaw tightened, wondering how I could have been so stupid as to believe his feelings were genuine. He was just trying to reclaim a former glory. Stumbling backwards slightly, my legs felt like they were going to give out.

"But things started to change." Drawing in a deep breath, he turned from the fire to face me, his hand going back into his pocket. "You started to... replace her in my head." Licking his lips, he released the breath. "Things with you became more important than old memories. It wasn’t even so much the dress, Sam. It was just the fact that you had the guts to do it. You have this cruelty streak running through you that is something else, you know." He smiled and I weakly returned the gesture. "I admire that quality in you. Keeps me on my toes."

He took a tentative step forwards and my heart sailed to my throat and my brain tried to decide between standing still and running for the door.

"You came up on that hill, scaring the shit out of me. And I didn’t plan it, honestly. It just seemed right to put my arm around you, like it belonged there." Slowly he decreased the space between us until he was standing as close as we were when I confronted him. Sliding his hands out of his pockets, they rested against his thighs. Gradually reaching his eyes, I looked at his face, and for the first time, I could read everything like a book.

"And kissing you was something I wanted to do, that’s why. I have always wanted to." His eyes lowered to my parted mouth as if he was contemplating it again. Jack swallowed as his eyelids closed and slowly opened, his head leaning forward a few inches more, still regarding my lips. "Kind of like I do now."

My heart exploded in a thunderous tremor, blasting against my chest like a wrecking ball. I felt weak as if his confession was drawing the life out of my body. His face blurred as he drew closer.

"Just so there’s no confusion about my intent, I’m going to ask you." Jack’s voice was barely a whisper and his breath felt like a gale against my mouth. "Sam, may I kiss you?"

That’s it, I’m done for! Completely insane! Take me away now! Bring me a straight jacket!

"Yes." I couldn’t even speak so I just breathed it.

His lips descended on mine and I was lost in a sea of lunacy. But instead of thinking of my career or rules and regulations, I thought about the man before me who had revealed himself so to me. I raised my hands to his chest, holding onto the fabric of his shirt like he was going to disappear.

They were small little kisses; tentative and gentle, more to taste and sense. With his beautiful elegant hands he cupped my face as if I was a lotus bloom, his long fingers sliding below my ears. I could taste the whiskey on his lips and heard the slight moist noise they made as he parted to look at me again.

Slowly he smiled, his face growing into a wide toothy grin. "Sam, you look like you’ve just got hit by a truck."

"Maybe I have." He stood up straight and his hands lowered to my shoulders. My fingers released their death grip on his shirt and fell from his chest. I took a step backwards, moving my hands to his arms to lift them from my shoulders. Why am I so resistant to this idea?

"Jack... please understand this is difficult for me. I mean, I shouldn’t even be here and what we just did—"

"Was dumb, stupid, foolish, insane, should I go on?" A silly smile crossed his face, his arms slipping through my hands till his fell into mine.

"Yes, it was. We know better. I mean, my God, how many years have we been in the service? I should know better. You’re my CO." I pulled my hands from his to rub my brow, stepping away from him.

"And would it matter if I said I didn’t care?"

"But it does, you see. I care." I was on the verge of tears as I looked up at him again. "It goes against everything I believe in; everything I’ve been taught. You don’t mess around with your CO."

"If I wasn’t your CO?"

"Then I wouldn’t be feeling this way!" And I wouldn’t; without a single hesitation. I would step freely into his arms to taste his lips without a care, but that was fantasy. We were CO and 2IC and fraternization was strictly forbidden. "God, this sucks."

"Now you know how I feel."

The consolation didn’t help my battling morality. Military restrictions weren’t likely to forgive even if the parties involved were madly in love with each other. It sets dangerous precedents. Wiping the tears from my eyes with the back of a finger, I tried to smile for him.

"Jack, if it was any other time or place... I’d be able to return your feelings. I just can’t, not like this." Taking another step back, I increased the distance between us.

"What are you afraid of?" It was his turn to put me on the spot.

"I’m not afraid; it’s just wrong."

"Why is it wrong?" He took a small step towards me and I wanted to run.

"Because you’re my commanding officer. Because I like my career and I don’t want anything getting in the way of it, especially a lapse of judgement!" That hurt. I could see the brief wash of pain swarm over his face. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. All I’m saying, is that..." Agape, my mouth fumbled on words that weren’t there. Why was it so important to me to keep him at arm’s length, even though he was more than willing to begin a relationship? I was able to control our flirtatious moments before, and perhaps that was what was scaring me so. If I crossed the line, could I keep control of my feelings when it counted?

"What Samantha?" He said my name and my willpower crumbled.

"Okay, so maybe I am afraid!" I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling angry that he had dragged the confession from me. "Maybe I’m afraid that something’s going to happen to our working relationship, the team, Daniel or Teal’c, and one of us will have to leave SG1. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened! Don’t you see? This isn’t easy! Jack, I’ve thought about it several times, but that’s all it was. Fantasies. Now you’re telling me that you’ve had the same thoughts and it’s not bothering you at all? That you’re my boss, supposed to remain detached, and not allow shit like this to happen? How the hell do you think I’m going to feel?"

Tears began to stream down my face and he took a few steps closer, yet still a safe distance away. There was already irreparable damage done to us; I had tasted what it would be like to exist with Jack O’Neill’s arms around my body, and I didn’t like the idea of letting that go. He moved in closer for the kill.

"I’m sorry, Sam."

His hands took my face like they had earlier but I resisted, struggling to get away from him. If he kissed me again I didn’t have a chance for escape.

"Wait. Stop, please. Just look at me for a minute." I did, and instantly regretted it. His mahogany eyes were rimmed with moisture as he studied my face, his hands shaking against my cheeks. "I know this is hard. And if you were anybody else..."

Gently his thumbs brushed under my eyes, wiping away my tears. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch, the closeness of him. My hands took on a life of their own as they betrayed me to rise to his chest again. Slowly my eyes opened in enough time to watch a tear trace over his stoic face, follow the line in his cheek to his parted lips, and pool before it dropped.

"I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. I’ve been shoving this deep to try and make sure I kept some professionalism in our relationship. I’ve run out of space, Sam. There isn’t anywhere to put it anymore."

Somehow my self-preservation dissolved into complete devotion as Jack finally let me into his life. It was painful to look into his eyes as everything washed over him, but like passing by the scene of an accident, you’re driven to look. At that moment, I wasn’t sure what he was feeling for me; if it was the need for a warm body close or that he actually did love me. I didn’t quite care. All I saw was a man who never let his internal battle scars heal. They festered until little parts of him died one by one.

"If you want to leave, I won’t get in your way." His voice was strangled as he spoke, the last few words dying into a whisper. "I want you to stay. I want you to stay with me tonight, Sam."

Before my legs could give out on me, I stepped forward, sliding my hands up his chest to his face. Touching him as if he was about to shatter, I traced a few fingers over his chin, along his jaw, till my hands surrounded his face.

"I need you, Sam." Sucking in a tortured breath, I released it slowly, allowing my fingers to curl beneath his ears.

"You’re not going to be alone tonight, Jack." Cautiously I leaned forward, raising my lips to his, my hands slipping from his face to surround his shoulders. Jack’s breath came in tortured gasps as his arms encircled my body, his composure deteriorating until he had to end our kiss. Squeezing me tightly, he buried his head into my shoulder and I held him close until his sobs subsided.

xxxxx

Sex is not like a bicycle once you’ve fallen off; you just can’t get right back on and expect everything to fully function like it once did. Especially not when you’re with someone you’ve never been with and have intense feelings for. It’s a slow process; one of building mutual trust.

I’m not exactly sure how we made it back into his bedroom. It must have been sometime between Jack collecting himself and making the crack about mussing up my shirt. Now he sat before me on the edge of the bed as I balanced myself by bracing my knees on the mattress between his parted legs.

Trepidation crossed his face and I figured it was from being so emotionally exposed to me. He had given me everything and I had the power to crush him if I wished. Slowly I raised my hands to his face, pressing them against his warm cheeks.

"Jack, do you trust me?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation, his eyes looking up to level on mine. They were tired and red from crying, but he was telling the truth.

"Close your eyes." Silently he obeyed, his hands on his thighs slipping lower towards his knees as if to brace himself.

My hands slid from his face slowly and I leaned forward. Balancing my wrists over his nose, I started at his hairline, tracing delicate fingertips over the soft follicles. Drawing in a slow breath, he sighed as he exhaled. His breath passed over my skin and my fingers lowered slightly to pass over the ridges in his forehead. His head listed slightly to the side as I traced over his eyebrows, following the angled arches, brushing down the burly hairs.

Jack smiled as my hands moved over his deep-set eyes, stroking his smooth eyelids, the long lashes tickling my fingers as they moved over them. Pressing just slightly harder, I massaged his temples, swirling in alternate directions, eventually creeping lower across his sideburns. Following his strong cheekbones, I brought my thumbs down along his nose, setting my nails on edge as my other fingers lightly scraped across his maturing stubble. With a finger, I traced his nose from the deep furrow between his brows, feeling the bumps and twists of each fissured break. His face was a unique canvas that I savored touching.

Lowering to his angled jaw line, my fingers ran along the ridge until they gathered under his chin. My thumbs washed over his wide lips and they parted, yielding from the touch. Leaning over him further, I pressed my lips softly to his, giving him a small kiss. They spread into a wide smile and he released a slow breath.

"Jack, you can touch me. I’m not going to break." His eyes opened as I pulled away, standing up again. They were clear and bright, shining up on me.

"I know. I’m just afraid that if I do, you’re going to disappear because this is a dream." He matched my whisper.

"No, you’re quite awake." A lazy smile stretched across his face.

"Good." With that, his hands reached for the closest object to them; my thighs. Unable to repress the shiver it caused, I washed my hands over his shoulders. Amazingly his hands were smooth as they curled over my bare flesh in slow and measured movements. One began to flirt with the side slit, tracing the line of stitches on the hem.

"How about me? Do you trust me, Sam?" He leaned closer and I could feel his words on the v-neck of my shirt. I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.

"Yes." Slowly his hands slipped beneath my skirt to travel farther up my thighs. I stifled a moan from his cruelty, smiling in delight. His hands never moved from the outside, just swirled, tattooing strange patterns on my skin with light fingernails.

At first I couldn’t feel him as he leaned closer to nuzzle against my bare skin, smoothing the tip of his nose along the edge of the sweater’s neckline. The touch was electrifying and I shivered violently, my hands gripping his shoulders. He stopped instantly.

"You okay?" Jack’s hands lifted from my thighs as he looked up at me.

"Yeah, you just caught me a little off guard." I released a breath and smiled as he shook his head, smirking. Resuming, his mouth began to press out slight kisses as his hands slid over my skin. I regained a bit of composure; enough to move my fingers over his shirt buttons. Slowly his hands vacated my skirt, slipping up over my hips to wash over my waist.

"Sam." He breathed into my skin.

"Yes?"

"Come here." A gentle pull at my waist brought me closer as he kissed a trail up to my throat. Pausing briefly to enjoy the hint of perfume on my neck, his lips slipped over my chin and to my mouth. I almost couldn’t get my hands to the back of his head quickly enough, my fingers smoothing over his hairline. He wasn’t even kissing me that deeply, but the combination of his hands moving from my waist to my shoulder blades was enough to turn the flame on to broil. Working over me, his touch concentrated on my spine, tracing slowly down each vertebra with seductively light fingers.

I couldn’t control the moan anymore. My lips parted as I gave him the slightest whimper; his hands had found their way over my behind. One remained as the other slipped toward my shoulder again, holding me steady as he took advantage of my disability. Smoothly his tongue slid against my lips before driving inside my mouth, conquering sweetly.

He had me successfully trapped. I could feel his legs move so his ankles collapsed against mine, sliding his socked feet up along my calves. It was too much, way too fast. My hands lowered from his hair to grip at his shoulders again, this time pushing against him with the heels of my palms. Forcing myself away from the embrace, I looked down at him. His legs slipped from mine.

"Too much?" An eyebrow arched, questioning, and his hands eased their grip.

"Yeah." I said almost breathlessly, backing away from him. Wiping off my mouth, I tried to breathe.

"Sorry." He gave me an apologetic smile.

"It’s been awhile." Longer than I cared to admit.

"You’re telling me." Taking a few steps away, I propped myself up on the closest bedpost. The wood was cool and soothing to my overheated hands. Leave it to him to have such an ancient bed; a queen-sized wonder with maple styles topped with curved finials. The headboard was intricately carved with a Victorian floral and vine design; the only flaw in a broken off petal. Standing, he came up behind me and soon his hands were on my shoulders, massaging.

They started at my neck, his thumbs rolling over the muscles that stretched down from my neck. Intent on just helping me relax, his hands moved across my shoulders, slowly working out the tight kinks. Burying his knuckles into the strip between my shoulder blades, he pressed me against the post.

"I’m not going to be upset if you—"

"That’s not what I said." I turned to face him and his arms lowered. "We just need to go a bit slower, is all." Playfully my hands found their way to his shirt. I had managed only to get one undone earlier before he had so readily distracted me. Casually I unbuttoned another, revealing the slight fuzzing of hair he had on his chest.

"Tell me what did she do to you." I grinned at him slyly.

"Who?"

"Hathor." A measured groan escaped his lips as he shook his head.

"Actually don’t remember much of that." His arms remained at his sides, his hands sinking nervously into his pockets. Two buttons were left and they yielded easily to my shaking fingers.

"I don’t believe you." Parting his shirt like I would part curtains, I revealed his chest to me. He smiled.

"Well I don’t."

"Want to hear my theory?" He sucked in a small breath as my cold fingers grazed his skin.

"Somehow I think that even if I said no, you’d still tell me." Jack’s face spread into a broad smile and I saw his eyes widen briefly as my hands slipped over the sides of his stomach.

"Perceptive little runt." He chuckled. I ran my hands up his chest to his collarbones and his lips parted as the sensation rushed over his body.

"I’m thinking she probably unbuttoned each button like I just did; one at a time. Her hands would have smoothed over your skin gently, sliding over every muscle." I started high, brushing my fingertips over his collarbones, stroking him under the chin once before my hands sank across his sternum. For the first time ever, I saw him blush; just a bit on his cheeks, as his face spread into a sheepish grin. His eyes lowered from mine to look at my shoulder.

"She might have even wanted to touch your stomach too." Slowly parting from his sternum, my fingers swept across his pectorals, stopping to hover over his small nipples. Teasing him, I watched as he sighed, lifting his head to look at the ceiling. He was desperately trying to cling to his self-control as he drew in a breath through clenched teeth. My fingers splayed over his pectorals, falling steadily to his stomach where it recoiled away from my touch.

"But seeing how she was all business, I doubt she was into much pleasure." Stepping forward slightly, my hands slipped around the sides of his stomach, and I lowered my lips to his chest. The smell of him was divine; a strange mixture of soap, after shave, and his natural musk left my head in a daze. His muscles flexed sharply beneath my touch in reaction to the sensations I was causing as my mouth began to seep up closer to his throat, weaving patterns in his flesh. Unable to resist any longer, his head bowed beside mine as I lapped at his collarbone. Slowly his hands began to trace up from my waist to my elbows, steadily cresting the curve of my shoulders.

"And if she was half as nice to me as you are, I probably would have treated her in kind." Jack whispered against my ear, his lips brushing over the lobe with each word. My hands around his waist gripped him tighter as I felt his thumbs loop under the collar of the sweater, stroking my flesh with unhurried tenderness. His fingers spread out and advanced back to my shoulders dragging along with them my cardigan. And as he did the night before, his lips kissed my neck in the most amazing way.

Somewhere that little voice reappeared in the back of my head telling me I still had a chance to escape, to save my career, and my sanity. I chastised it for being such a spoilsport. It was right, but the little shoulder devil had tied up and gagged the shoulder angel back when I had decided to go to dinner. Now she was dancing around, encouraging me.

So I humored her. Jack’s lips trailed their way from my neck to the broadness of my shoulders, continuing to remove my cardigan as his hands slipped down my arms, exposing the tee beneath. With a last little push, he lowered my arms so it could fall from my body freely, scooping me in an embrace as his mouth lifted from my shoulder. Raising my hands beneath his shirt again, they slid up to his shoulder bones as looked down into my face.

"Continue?" He motioned towards kissing my lips, his nose tracing the contours of mine.

"It would be an act of cruelty not to." Eyebrow arching, my lips spread into a seductive smile until they finally divided. Flattening against him, I relished the way his body felt against mine, arms around me.

Jack didn’t say anything, just kissed me. Suckling sweetly, his lips pulled and parted, pressing deep and hard before withdrawing till there was a breath between us. Raising his hand, he cradled my head, his fingers slipping through my hair. His kissing was an act on its own; tender and methodically devouring until I felt he was worshipping my mouth. With gentle guidance, his hand pulled my head back, leaving my lips vacant.

I smiled appreciatively as his lips rounded my chin to travel lower, pressing warm kisses to my throat and beyond. Feeling the tip of his tongue swirl over my skin from within his mouth, I couldn’t keep a moan from surfacing, digging my nails into his shoulders. I sagged against him in weakness as he blew a gentle breath over the kisses, cooling them to frigid temperatures on my hot skin.

He stepped back and I almost fainted.

"Not too bad, flyboy." I said breathlessly, watching a triumphant smile spread over his face. "Payback’s a bitch, I hope you know."

"Now, now." He raised his hands defensively, taking another step back until his legs were against the side of the bed. Jack grinned at me, starting to laugh. "Take it easy."

"What, you can dish it out but can’t take it?" Challenging him, I slid forward.

"Something like that." Reaching out, I took the collar of his shirt and pushed it over his shoulders until it fell in a heap behind him. One gentle push of my hand sent him back onto the bed. He began to crawl away from me as I approached, but a restraining grab at the waistband of his pants kept him still.

"Sam!" He cried in mild shock, looking down my arm to where my hand was. Hiking my skirt up a little above my knees, I crawled up on to the bed with him, straddling his legs between mine. Leaning over him, I put my palms on either side of his head, and his hands went to my waist as if he could restrain me. Arching his eyebrow, he lifted his head just slightly to look down my shirt at the top of my breasts revealed as the tee sagged under gravity. Balancing with one hand, I grabbed his chin with the other, forcing him to look at me instead of my cleavage.

"Jack, shut up." I commanded and lowered my mouth to his. Overpowering him cleverly, my tongue lashed out to caress his lips, taking the opportunity of his shock to make my move. Driving deep, I curled my tongue around his and he flexed beneath me, his hands at my sides clamping down harshly. Not letting up on the intensity, my mouth dragged from his to slip down over his cheek to his ear. He inhaled a deep breath as I nipped at the earlobe, drawing my teeth over his tender flesh. Whispering a few epitaphs in my honor, he arched toward me as my tongue made a slow turn about his ear till it landed with a kiss.

"Good God." He blinked at me, still trying to catch his breath as I released him from the torture, raising my head to look at him.

"Don’t try to one-up me."

"Lesson learned." Jack smiled as mine evaporated from my face. His hands were beneath the tee, stroking my stomach. I tried to remain looking at him to say it wasn’t bothering me, but my willpower fizzled as they began to climb higher. Sighing deeply, I bowed my head and closed my eyes, defeated. His fingers made it to the satin panels of my bra and were skillfully driving me insane.

"What was that you were saying about payback?" Jack said softly. He pinched at my breasts and I gave a surprised cry, feeling a flood of sensation wash over me. His hands began to soothe again, tracing a delicate fingertip over my now hard nipples. Thoroughly pleased with himself, I could feel him chuckling silently at my reaction by the slight wag it was giving the mattress below us.

I fell to the bed beside him and he leaned over on his side to face me as his hands slipped from my shirt. Tentatively his hand caressed my closest bare knee.

"You okay?" He whispered into my ear as he pressed a kiss against it.

"Slightly delirious, but yes, fine." I traced a fingertip over his bare shoulder, rolling to face him.

"You still want to do this?" The hand on my knee switched to the top one, slightly sliding up the outside of my thigh to the hem of my skirt. Jack was giving me ample opportunity to back out and the little voice screamed yes. His other hand slipped between the bed and my head to caress my cheek, smoothing his long fingers gently against my skin. Opening my eyes slowly, I looked into his.

And I wondered why we hadn’t done this sooner. Both of us knew the answer, but neither eager to take the first step. The situation never presented itself like it had in the past twenty-four hours where truth had bubbled up to the surface in the face of pain and anger. He wanted me; not like a sex-crazed lunatic, but as a man who needed to feel close to a trusted friend. Jack would take me anyway I’d come willingly, even if it meant forgoing the inevitable in favor for curling up in my arms for comfort. He just favored me there and I was happy to oblige.

"Yes, I want to be with you, Jack." Terrified, the words fell from my mouth in a rush as I leaned forward to kiss him; to seal my lips shut before they could say something else.

Our nakedness came gradually, revealing layers of our bodies as if we were revealing layers of our souls, savoring each glimpse. We treaded lightly around the bends and arches, finding mutual satisfaction in taking it slow as we explored. He knelt behind me and drew me into his chest, his hands on my hips.

Pressing a kiss into my shoulder, Jack’s head brushed against mine and slowly I lifted a hand to run my fingers through his hair. Feeling his hardness stroke against my lower back, I moaned as he moved his lips to my neck and finally my ear, his hands working their way over my stomach under my arms. Slowly they slipped back down and washed over my thighs, coming up the sides to my hips once more.

In a heated daze, my head leaned back an it rested against his shoulder once more, sending me back to the night before. I would be able to suffer the consequences tomorrow if I could make it through tonight.

"Jack." I whispered, skidding my fingers up his thighs beside me.

"Hmm?" He mumbled into the nape of my neck as he gently pushed my head forward. I shivered as his mouth brushed against my hairline, pressing soft kisses back and forth.

"Before I lose my nerve." My fingernails sank into his flesh as his tongue lapped up from two vertebrae below, sending a surge of desire through my body.

"Yes ma’am." He answered as if it was an order, leaning forward to move his head from my neck to my cheek, giving it a kiss. Gently he turned me to face him and once again his hands surrounded my face. Slowly they slipped to my shoulders as he kissed my lips again, a steady pressure sending me back against the pillows. Skillfully he slipped between my legs and his weight above me was seductively sweet.

Collapsing his mouth over mine, his tongue entered without prompting, probing as he savored. Tender hands skidded down my sides as I wrapped my arms about his shoulders, lowering to curl over my thighs pinned against his hips.

"What about protection?" Logic returned as he broke the kiss to breathe.

"Already taken care of." A hand had returned to wash over my forehead and crown of hair, smoothing down till it cupped my ear, his fingers dancing beneath. I waited patiently for him to begin, closing my eyes and washing my hands over his shoulders to the middle of his back.

"Sam?" His lips brushed against mine as he breathed.

"Yes?" I kissed him softly, sucking his lower lip between mine.

"It’s been awhile." Opening my eyes, I looked at him, shocked by his sudden confession. Even in the darkness I could read his expression; fear of failing me. Again I cursed myself for assuming what I thought was the obvious. It made sense all of the sudden; he hadn’t been with Sara since Charlie’s death and I doubted he was in much of a mood half of the time to date. I lifted my head and gave him a sweet kiss.

"Let’s not keep score." I smiled against his lips and raised my legs to encircle his. With a prompt of my nails skidding down his spine for my hands to rest on his lower back, the no fraternization rule blew to smithereens. He moved with an expertise that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head as he entered my body.

Setting a deliberate rhythm, our bodies melted sweetly into one, his hands washing over my sides as mine traced patterns over his back. Jack’s lips returned to mine, pressing deep and hard as his tongue penetrated to conquer my mouth as deftly as he had my body. He released me to breathe, still suckling a lip between my gasps for air. Lifting my head, I smoothed desperate kisses into his throat, tasting the saltiness of his neck. Groaning, his hand slipped beneath my head to assist before he forced me back down with torture of his own.

Arching my neck towards him, he nuzzled softly before kissing the tender skin, his lips trailing around to the corner of my neck. Roughly his tongue rolled as his desire and pace increased, driving deeper into my eager body.

My hands began to roam with a maddening tendency, washing quickly over his back and shoulders, setting the nails on edge as they glided back down to his hips. He returned the gesture as his hands harshly ran though my hair, fisting and clutching as if it was a way to suppress the tide threatening to pummel him.

Kissing me again, his lips mashed frantically against mine as I struggled to gasp for a breath. I could feel him tense above me and desperately I wished my body to catch up to match him in intensity. It wasn’t going to happen. His hands against my hips pushed as his fingers flexed and his mouth opened to mine. He was so close.

Caring then more about Jack than myself, I decided to help him along. My hands swarmed his head, maniacally lacing my fingers though his hair. Clamping my mouth over his, I kissed him intensely like I had before. I tightened my legs about him to draw him deeper, increasing the sensations that were quickly devouring him.

With a pitiful wail into my mouth, the earth shattered for him. I released the hold I had on his lips to let him breathe as he gasped, his hips rocking in a sensual convulsion against mine till he lacked the energy to move. Slowly I loosened up the grip I had on his body; he fell sated above me. I caressed him gently, dragging my fingertips over his hot skin, massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders and lower back.

Regaining life, his hand smoothed over my hair, limply playing with the ends.

"I’m sorry." He breathed into my neck.

"Shh." Our joining ended as he slipped from my body, but I still held him close, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my legs against his.

"I just..." His head lifted slowly and he regarded me with two mahogany eyes that exposed him to the core.

"Jack, I’m not sorry for anything." I said honestly, truthfully. Kissing him gently before his head sagged to my shoulder again, I hugged him tightly. Eventually he moved from our embrace when the circulation had begun to be cut off from my legs. Lying down on his side, I snuggled up to spoon him from behind, wrapping my arm over his waist. Keeping guard, I waited till he had drifted off to sleep to do the same myself.

xxxxx

Regaining consciousness has never been so much fun. An insistent tickling started at my nose and worked its way over my lips till I thought I was going to sneeze. Groggily I demanded my limbs to work, awkwardly raising my hands to bat at the object torturing me. I collided with flesh; an arm stretched over my body from beside. It was Jack.

Slowly opening my eyes, I saw his weapon of destruction; a late blooming chrysanthemum he had picked from the neighbor’s flowerbed. Its petals were as white as a newly fallen snow and they gathered into a tight blossom at the center. My hands lifted to encircle his around the stem.

"What time is it?" It was still dark in the room.

"Four in the morning."

"Jesus, don’t you sleep?" He released the flower and I held it in my hand, raising the bud to my nose. It didn’t have any particular scent, just a green, earthy, natural smell.

"Yes, but I have this guilty conscious thing." A lazy smile crossed his face, eventually spreading into a filling equivalent to a shit-eating grin. Sitting up slowly, I clutched the sheets to my chest and silently wondered how I had gotten beneath them. The last time I checked; we were on top of them.

"Jack O’Neill with a conscious? Guilty one at that, too! I’ll believe it when I see it." He was lounging next to me, bare chested and wearing a pair of sweat shorts, trying to glimpse a peak beneath my sheet. Batting the hand away I turned to face him and suddenly felt like prey.

"Hey!" Lifting himself up, he propped with a palm against the bed and leaned closer to me. "Careful now." Snaking slowly beneath the covers, his hand met up with my thigh.

"Or what?" Narrowing my eyes, I teased, allowing his hand to curl down around and begin a steady climb.

"Or you just might find yourself a little more than you bargained for." Leaning in for a kiss, he pushed me back onto the bed as his hand started doing wickedly evil things to my body. He wasn’t going to get any arguments from me.

Score after second inning: O’Neill 2, Carter 2.

xxxxx

Looking at Jack, I shivered; his face was oddly neutral and I wondered how much of a bullet I would have to dodge. How do you tell a lover that you could never see him again?

Sliding to the edge of the bed, I swung my legs over and looked down, trying to figure out if I was going to make a run for it naked, or yank out the top sheet from the bed. I had to do neither; Jack’s shirt was still lying in a heap near my feet. Gracefully, I caught the sleeve with a toe and lifted it up into my awaiting hand.

"Hey, that’s mine."

"I’m only borrowing it." I flashed him a smile as I pushed my arms through the sleeves, standing as I buttoned a few buttons to cover some of my nakedness from him. He watched in idle curiosity as he rested beneath the sheets.

"Where you going?" Padding my way across his carpet, I walked towards the door.

"To the bathroom. Or is that not allowed?" Not even giving him a chance to reply I moved out of the bedroom and down the hall into his bathroom. Latching and locking the door behind me, I felt like I was going to throw up. I had to live up to the responsibility of making the best and the worst decision in my life; sleeping with my CO.

Flicking on the lights, I leaned over the vanity to stare at my face in the mirror.

"Now you’ve done it." Shaking my head at my reflection, I turned on the hot water.

It almost felt as if my body wasn’t mine anymore. There was an unfamiliar yet oddly pleasant ache in my lower back, muscles along my inner thighs, a spasm in my shoulder. Lowering my head, I stared at my feet as I propped myself up against the sink. It was the wrong thing to do. All I could smell was Jack’s shirt around me, enveloping me in a sensual embrace as if his arms were there instead.

And I wanted him again. When the water had reached the point of boiling, I mixed it with a bit of cold before splashing a generous amount over my face. I had to get rid of the sensation before it drove me crazy. The damn night shouldn’t have even happened in the first place, and now that it had, I had no idea where to start the cleanup, the damage control. Why the hell don’t I have a backbone? Not even a notochord! Can’t even stand up to a man I know so how am I supposed to stand up to an enemy?

"You’re fucking insane, you know!" She stared back at me from the mirror and I’m sure if I was delusional enough, she would have just shrugged, possibly even stuck her tongue out at me. Sighing deeply, I flicked off the lights and opened the door.

Making my way back to the bedroom, I found myself alone. So I followed the sounds of clinking glass. He was busy rinsing out the glasses from earlier in the sink, running a steady stream over his hands and the tumblers as he gazed blankly out the window. Jack was taller again, more imposing, and my heart went to my throat. I hated this more than anything and it would have been so easy if we hadn’t ended up getting intimate, but we did and now I had to pay.

"Jack?" I propped myself against the refrigerator for support. Be still my beating heart.

"Hmm?"

"We have to talk." The glasses were overturned into the draining board and he reached for the towel hanging off of the stove. He dried his hands for an inordinate amount of time, still staring out the window. Jesus, Jack, I’m sorry.

"I know." He said, eventually breaking the silence. Turning around slowly, he leaned back into the sink, resting his hands on the edge as he looked down at me.

It was strangely eerie how he looked then in the shadows and it frightened me not to be able to see his face. His long legs were crossed at the ankles as he leant back. I tried to think of him as my superior, not as the man I had just made love to. God knows I didn’t want to hurt him. And God knows we could not do this again. It was something that was waiting to happen, but we both realized it wouldn’t be a permanent happening. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and leaned back into the fridge.

I tried to figure out what I was going to say to him. Try to break it to him easy. The only thing I could think of was Air Force Instruction – AFI36-2909. Taking a deep breath, I started into my litany.

"Unduly familiar relationships between members in which one member exercises superiority or command authority over the other can easily be or become unprofessional."

"Sam—"

"The ability of the senior member to influence, directly or indirectly, assignments, promotion recommendations—"

"Carter!"

"Duties, awards, and other privileges and benefits places both the senior member and the junior member in a vulnerable position. Once established, such relationships do not go unnoticed by other members in a unit."

"Captain, I know the damn regulation!" He had left his perch by the sink and was grabbing my arms, pushing me back into the refrigerator. It hurt like hell. I could feel his fingers press so deep they were moving between the muscles, the force grinding me back into the hard door.

"However, the senior member in a personal relationship bears primary responsibility for maintaining the professionalism of that relationship. Leadership requires the maturity and judgement to avoid relationships which undermine respect for authority or which reasonably may impact negatively on morale, discipline, respect for authority or the mission of the Air Force." He finished it off. I was a little amazed and strangely delighted he had studied the code as thoroughly as I had. And I also wondered if he had tried to find a loophole.

"I know the damn code." He bowed his head and his fingers loosened their death grip.

"It’s a court martialable offense, Jack."

"Article 15, I know." His hands lowered from my arms and he stepped away.

Then I thought about the real reason why I was doing this. I was scared; scared out of my bloody mind! I was frightened of Jack. I was trying to pass it off on regulations and trying to save my career, but it was because of Jack. Everything was a two edged sword with him. If it didn’t cut you absorbing it, it shredded you on the way out. The man had enough grief and anguish to equal the force of a ten-ton nuclear blast and there was no way I could deal with that. I needed to be in control of my emotions and have a man that could do the same. I had learned my lesson all too painfully with Jonas Hansen.

"Jack, don’t get me wrong, I had a very nice time. Okay, better time than I’ve had in awhile—" A sly grin stretched over his face as he looked down at his feet. "But this can never happen again."

Jonas absorbed me into him. I didn’t feel myself anymore when I was with him. It became all about him, all about his pain and grief, and never about me. I tried so hard for him, to bring him out of the abysmal depths he seemed to lurk in, but it felt like I was trying to swim with a lead weight around my neck. Every inch I moved closer, the foot he’d grab. I didn’t want that to happen here. And it would, if given a fighting chance.

Jack was a brooder like Jonas. At least Jack didn’t express his mental instabilities in quite the same way, but they were there, lurking below the surface, and I was a fool if I didn’t believe they wouldn’t explode some day. I didn’t want to be there for ground zero. Fallout I could take, but not the immediate blast zone. I had seen how Jack had reacted when we thought Daniel was dead, and I know I couldn’t handle that again. What would happen if he suddenly felt the need to dump his baggage again? Would I end up like the General’s windshield? I know he would never physically touch me, but Jack’s form of torture was usually the verbal kind. Jonas had abused me that way, and I vowed never to let it happen again.

"I’m glad you decided to stay, Sam."

And I knew it would kill him to expose himself to me again. I could see the pain in his eyes before when he revealed just a small portion, but the anguish behind it would have drowned me if the dam collapsed. There was just so much welled up inside. He wasn’t used to making himself so open to anybody and I knew he hated giving me that power over him. Jack O’Neill was synonymous with stoic and he looked and felt off balance when it wasn’t.

"I actually had no choice in the matter." Crossing my arms over my chest, I smiled at him as his head lifted slowly to look at me.

"What?"

"Ran out of gas." I shrugged slowly. He simply shook his head and gave me a light snort.

Raising a hand to his brow, he scratched before washing it over his face, sucking in a deep breath. And somehow he knew it too. That all of this had come out of a temporary lack-of-grip on his emotions and it was half his fault for getting us in this situation. I didn’t begrudge the man his feelings, but I hoped to God he realized what he had done to me. He knew I couldn’t resist if he gave me a reason not to. Selfish I know. He turned away from me and walked towards the living room.

"Carter, I’m sorry. I should have never gotten you in this situation." Jack was staring into the ashes in the fireplace. His hands rested on his hips. I waited, knowing he needed to do this. It was another issue to add to the pile of things he was already berating himself over. A temporary slip in judgement that, if spread about, could possibly ruin both of our careers. He had listened to my warnings and still continued to press the issue to the point where he knew I couldn’t let go.

"It was a lousy thing to do to you, because I know you. You would have never left once I started... opening up to you." I knew he wanted to say crying, but he wouldn’t be able to say that even with a gun to his head at this point. Jack O’Neill, the one that I was used to, had returned. He was right. If he had never told me that kissing me had been on his top ten, I would have gone home after a lovely dinner, and had enough gas left in my car to get some the next day. I wouldn’t be wearing his shirt or distinctly remembering the amount of carnal knowledge I had of him.

"Everything just started piling up. You know..." He was fumbling now, trying to apologize and still act strong. It was tearing out my heart. I know what it feels to be lonely. Even the promise of a warm body next to you is enough to bring a slight shade of light to your life. I also knew he needed somebody, and in a way I was glad I had been there, but I hoped he wouldn’t come to rely on it being me either. Like I said, I couldn’t deal with another Jonas. No way, no how.

"Yes, Jack, I know." I said as flatly as I could, without emotion. It didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped. The words cracked in my throat and I was saddened that it hadn’t been a dream like it had every other time. Girlish fantasies were something I could control. I could still save face having to see him the next day. Not quite as easy when I had actually slept with the man. Slowly he turned to face me.

"I wish I could take it back and start everything over. I’m sorry for making my personal feelings cloud over rational judgement. If you want this up to the UCMJ, you’d—"

"You can’t be serious, Jack. I’m in as much trouble as you are in this one. I’m not going to let you take the fall for it." I couldn’t believe he’d honestly think I’d bring him up on charges against Policy Directives.

"I’m just saying, you’d be in every right to do so, Captain." His mouth set in a hard angle and it was difficult to read him. He was taking this rather harshly and I knew he was beating himself up more over his own carelessness than over the regulations. What am I going to do with you, Jack?

"Shut up about it already. Nobody’s bringing anybody up on Article 15. Got that?"

"Yes ma’am." A small smile seeped across his face. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stepped closer to me. "Regardless, I did enjoy your company as well as..