Title: Domestication

Author: nanda (nanda@diary-x.com)

Rating: NC-17

Codes 'n Stuff: Sam/Jack fluff/humor/smut/drama

Archive: SJD yes; nowhere else, please. You may link to my site if you want.

Season/Spoilers: S8 (or so). Futurespec based on vague spoilers for S7 Heroes and The Lost City.

Status: Complete (1/1)

Feedback: Any and all welcomed.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.

Summary: Jack can't get a break.

A/N: Yes, I am evil, thank you. Though it's really nothing to do with me -- I just take dictation from the voices. Bonus points for catching the quote at the end, which is a lot funnier if you know the rest ...

Thanks: Karen, Jojo, and Michelle. Guess which one of them came up with the eel joke. Go ahead. Guess.

This story is also on the web all pretty and stuff at http://www.angstnromance.net/nanda/fic/sg1/nanda_domestication.html

***

Domestication
by nanda (nanda@diary-x.com)

The universe clearly had it in for him. Yes, him, Brig. General Jack O'Neill, USAF, CO of Earth's off-world Alpha Site ... and one very, very frustrated man. As if seven years of living like a freakin' monk hadn't been bad enough, now he finally had a sex life and he *still* couldn't get any.

First, there had been the time his leave had been cancelled because of a stupid little gate malfunction .. and goddamn if they hadn't sent *Siler* to fix it. Not that he had anything against Sparky (hell, he probably still owed the guy for that little armband, off-the-stairs thing), he just had zero interest in fucking him.

Then *her* semi-official inspection of the Alpha Site (for which he'd been ready and willing to kiss George Hammond's perfectly polished dress shoes) had been pre-empted by a rescue mission for SG-1. Which had left him both painfully, ahem, unsatisfied *and* more worried than he should have been. (Really, he'd have a longer life expectancy if he didn't know what she did for a living.)

And his *last* weekend off had been spent in a full-mountain quarantine, thanks to a little present SG-15 had brought home, the bastards. (They had no idea how close they'd all come to an O'Neill throttling the minute they'd escaped the infirmary.) He still wasn't sure if it was better or worse to be able to see her, play cards with her, eat breakfast with her, and hang around in her lab -- all while wanting desperately to tear off those damn BDUs -- as opposed to being stuck halfway across the galaxy keeping his own right hand a little too busy.

Now -- today -- he'd arrived at Cheyenne Mountain for two and a half days of (preferably naked) bliss only to find Jacob already there. Having just completed a dangerous, four-month mission, he'd needed some time at home to relax, she'd explained. And she couldn't exactly tell her dad to bug off. Could she?

Not only that, but Cassie was coming for the weekend, too. She wanted a quiet place to study for midterms, though Sam suggested, as he banged his head against the workbench in her lab, that the visit might have more to do with her "jerk of a boyfriend" (Sam's words, not his, and not, please god, Cassie's).

So, basically, his balls had more or less permanently turned blue, his dick had pretty much forgotten what the love of its life even looked like ... and she was opening up a branch of the Hotel Carter in what was supposed to be their own private den of iniquity.

"When was the last time your dad visited the grandkids?" he asked hopefully.

"Jack."

"Maybe they'd both rather stay at my place? It's just sitting there, empty, breeding dust ..."

"Jack."

He groaned. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. It's just ..."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Just." And she gave him a very suggestive smile that was very definitely *not* helping. "Well, we'll have to be good and wait until bedtime."

He sighed as theatrically as he possibly could.

"You haven't seen Cassie since Christmas," she reminded him.

"It's not that I don't want to see her. I'm dying to see her. Just ... uh ... later."

"Think you can manage not to tell her that?"

"Funny," he said. "Wanna go inspect the store room?"

She just gave him one of *those* looks. It was going to be a long night.

It became an even longer night when, in the middle of dinner, her cell phone rang. It was the tone she had programmed for calls from the SGC; he knew it only too well.

Cassie stopped talking midsentence, Jacob looked up from the pasta he'd said he'd been craving for weeks (the Tok'ra were notoriously garlic-challenged), and Jack just sighed, hoping it wasn't a major galactic incident.

"Just a glitch in the dialing program," she said, putting the phone away. "No big deal but I have to go in. Sorry." She addressed the apology to all of them, but squeezed Jack's thigh under the table.

Jacob called the waiter over to wrap up Sam's chicken; she'd barely even tasted it. "Don't wait up, right?" the older man asked. And, damn him, he looked at Jack as he spoke.

"Cass, should I take your car or can you fit these guys in it?" Cassie had met them at the restaurant.

"Oh. Uh. They can fit. It's kind of a mess, though."

Great. Just great.

Jack walked Sam out to the parking lot. "Be nice," she told him as she unlocked her car door. He wondered where the remote was; have to ask her later.

"I'm always nice."

She ignored that and gave him a quick kiss. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

"As soon as I can" turned out to be seven-thirty in the morning. Jack had just woken up (alone) and stumbled into the kitchen to start the coffee when he heard her key in the lock. *Oh, thank god.*

He held out a mug as she walked into the room. "Save the world again?"

"Hardly. The cooling system failed in the mainframe. I've spent most of the night backing up systems. No, thanks, I can't drink that -- I have to get some sleep."

He shrugged and took a big gulp himself. "What you really need is a backup for you." It was an old topic -- eight years old, in fact. And her job had only gotten more demanding since she'd taken over the team. She was still the SGC's top scientist and the only person who fully understood the dialing program. Or so it seemed.

"Don't start," she said lightly, reaching into the cabinet for a glass. "I am this close to unconsciousness."

"Oh, poor thing." He snuggled up behind her where she was pouring orange juice, and pressed her against the counter.

"Mmm," she sighed as his arms crossed her stomach and his lips descended on her neck. "Morning."

He laughed into her ear. "Good morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Lonely." *But not anymore!* "Bed too big."

"Gotten used to that little cot in your quarters?"

"Something like that. Why don't you come remind me what a real bed is for?"

She turned, snaking her arms around his neck. "I miss you," she said. "All the time."

"Yeah." He settled his hand on her behind, pulling her closer, and claimed her lips. Lower parts of his anatomy were just starting to wake up.

"Good morning!" a happy voice singsonged from the hall. Jack immediately jumped back across the kitchen.

Cassie snorted. "Please. You think I don't know you two are doing it every chance you get?"

Oh, that was so wrong. "Cass?"

"Jack?" She matched his tone exactly. He'd maybe taught her a little too well when she was younger -- his own damn fault.

"*Please* don't ever say that again."

Now Sam snorted, right into her orange juice.

"Say what, Jack? Doing it? Having sex? Going at it like greased weasels? Getting horizontal? Making loooooove?"

Sam, bless her, clearly recognised that his brain was about to go critical. She interrupted the litany with a stern, frighteningly maternal, "Cassie."

He shot her a grateful look before turning to Cassie. "Aren't you supposed to be studying? Did you even bring any books home?"

She was rifling through the refrigerator. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know, Jack. Gotta keep up your strength for -- "

"Oh, for crying out loud! I'm gonna go take a shower."

He heard both of the women in his life laughing as he retreated down the hall. In his panic he left his coffee behind, but there was no way he was going back to get it.

The problem, he reflected as he adjusted the water temperature, was that Sam was more like an older sister or an aunt to Cassie, so she didn't have that "EW! You're having *sex*?" reaction she would have had with Janet. Which was great for the two of them, but not so great for him -- because he *did* have that "EW! You're having *sex*?" reaction with Cassie. He really, really did not want to know. And he didn't want her to know, either. Not. A. Thing. Just -- ew. *So* wrong. Ew.

When he got out of the shower Sam was just coming into the bedroom, with a fresh cup of coffee, even. God, he loved this woman.

"Thank you, thank you," he said.

"Welcome." She kissed him and then kicked off her shoes. He leered, jokingly, of course. "Oh, baby. I don't think I'm awake enough. I'm sorry."

He could be mature about this, no matter how unfair his life was. He could. "It's okay. We have all weekend."

"I want to, too." She pulled off her sweater, revealing black lace underneath.

"I know. Maybe I can tuck you in?"

"You're sweet." And ... the jeans came off. Now he leered for real, because she was wearing a tiny -- no, downright microscopic -- lacy black thong that matched the bra. She yawned, moving towards the bed.

"Tell me you're not making a habit of wearing that kind of thing to work. Because I don't think I'd be able to accomplish anything on base *ever* again."

"You've obviously never worn one. *So* uncomfortable." Both pieces of lingerie fell to the floor, and he automatically bent to pick up after her. "It was supposed to be for you. For our hot date last night. This was the only clean underwear I had in my locker." She crawled under the covers.

Oh, life hated him. Life hated him *so* much. Well, he could make one of them happy, anyway. And fast, before she fell asleep. And if it helped him rack up bonus points he could trade in later, hey, he was okay with that.

He pulled the sheets aside and lay sideways across the bed, hooking one of her legs over his ribs. Hey, light blue toenail polish -- sweet.

"Jack ..."

"Just a little something to help you sleep," he said as he pulled her open with his fingertips. He licked slowly from the little pucker between her buttocks straight up to the V of dark blond hair, and held her down as she started to squirm. Then he wet one finger deep inside her, and slid just the tip into the tight hole below. After that it took just a few strokes of his tongue to make her writhe, moan, and climax. Finally she rolled onto her side, purring, and he pulled the covers back over her.

"Sorry," she murmured as he kissed her cheek. "Love you."

"Later," he said, and dug into the drawer to find some clothes.

In the kitchen, Cassie had been replaced (thank god) by Jacob, who was reading the paper and eating corn flakes.

"Selmak hates eggs," he explained. Or not, since it was apropos of absolutely nothing whatsoever. "Did I hear Sam come home?"

"Yeah. She's asleep." He sat down across from Jacob. "Gimme the sports section, wouldja?"

"I'm *reading* the sports section."

"Um -- why?"

"You don't exactly live on this planet anymore yourself, you know."

Jack just grunted and settled for the local news. *Another thrilling day at the Hotel Carter*, he thought.

And that was when he realised that if he stayed here, he was either going to go completely bonkers, or bounce up and down on her bed until she was wide awake and ready to play. And, well, neither option would serve him particularly well. Teal'c was offworld visiting Ry'ac and Bra'tac, Daniel was working all weekend and wouldn't really enjoy what Jack had in mind, anyway, so that left ...

"Hey, Jake," he said. "When was the last time you played on the Academy golf course?" It was only the end of March, but there was no snow -- it'd definitely be open.

Jacob grinned. "Years. You?"

"Well, months, anyway. Feel like throwing your rank around the clubhouse, General?"

"Hand me the phone, General."

It was midafternoon when they got back (even generals sometimes had to wait a couple hours for a tee time) and Sam's car was gone. Crap. Maybe Cassie had taken it for some reason.

"Sam? Cassie?"

"She got called back to the base." The voice came from the back deck and sounded a little ... off. He exchanged a look with Jacob.

"Did she say what it was?" Jacob called.

"Said it should only take a few hours." Well, good. That ruled out any major disaster ... though it didn't exactly rule out another appointment for Jack with his hand.

He followed Cassie's voice outside and found her sitting with her cell phone. She'd obviously been crying. Oh, even more crap. "Cass? You okay?"

"No," she said, sniffling. "I think I just broke up with Adam."

Crap, crap, crap. Crying teenage girl was so out of his league, and crying over a boy, no less -- give him an army of pissed-off Jaffa any day. But this happened to be his favorite teenage girl, crying or not, and kinda sorta almost his kid, or his step-kid, or something. He sat down next to her on the wrought-iron loveseat (damned uncomfortable thing) and she hugged him immediately.

"He's probably a jerk, anyway," he said, trying to make her laugh. "What'd the good-for-nothing loser do?"

Her answer kept him busy for the next two hours. At some point Jacob appeared in the window, but Jack waved him away. And by the time he heard Sam's car pull up, he and Cassie had fallen back to much safer topics like TV, the mileage on her car and how often she changed the oil, her calculus midterm, and her roommate's snoring.

"She's just a bitch all over, actually," Cassie said with a melodramatic teenage sigh. "Sucks that I got stuck with her."

"You gotta do it once. That's what college is for."

Sam peered out the window now, with a look that said, *Do you need backup?* He waved her away, too. Cassie didn't even notice.

"Sure, you can say that *now*, thirty years later," Cassie said.

"Please don't do the math."

"Actually ... " Actually, she was batting her eyelashes at him. Oh, crap. Again. "I'm really hoping to live off campus next year. I need written permission from the person who pays the bills, though ... do you think you could maybe talk to Sam for me?"

Manipulative, no-longer-crying teenage girl. Formerly with superpowers. "I think you should talk to Sam first," he said carefully. "Have you asked her?"

"Noooo," she admitted.

"Aw, you don't need me for that. She spoils you a lot more than she does me anyway."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does not."

"Hey. You wanna get a pizza?"

She laughed. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Yep. Pizza?"

"Absolutely."

Inside, Sam and Jacob were having a slightly more serious discussion on the couch, and Jack decided it should be bond-with-your-male-parental-figure night. He'd take Cassie out for pizza and a movie, and Sam and Jacob could do ... uh, whatever.

Jacob cocked his head. "You sure you don't mind?"

"What? I just asked, didn't I?"

Sam saw them off at the door, giving him a very sweet kiss once he'd whispered the abbreviated version of Cassie's love life.

He surreptitiously squeezed her ass. "You get called back to base tonight, and Hammond and I are going to have words."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure to tell him that. Have fun."

He came home to find Jacob on the phone with Mark, and Sam already gone to bed. *Oh, thank god. Finally.* He somehow managed not to bolt down the hall.

Not only was she in bed, reading an astrophysics journal -- she was in bed in the buff, as she proved when she tossed the covers (and the journal) aside and spread her legs.

"Well, hello there," he said.

He figured out that she'd been drinking when her response was, "I think I owe you a little fellatio, sir."

He pounced, nestling between her thighs. "Screw that," he said. He then attempted to suck one entire breast into his mouth.

"Screw me, you mean?"

He raised his head to look at her, and had to work very hard not to laugh.

"I really can't pull off that sort of thing, can I?" she asked.

Now he *had* to laugh. "No. No, I'm sorry, you really can't. I like your line of thinking, though." She sniggered. "How much have you had to drink, anyway?"

"Um ... we shared a bottle. Though I guess Dad didn't drink much. Huh."

"Great. I send you out to dinner with your father and he brings you home drunk."

"Drunk *and* horny," she corrected.

He chuckled. "Well, that's okay then." He kissed her systematically, nipple to jaw, and somehow managed to divest himself of his clothing with just a little help from her. Then he settled between her legs for a few minutes, suckling happily and getting very, very turned on by her little squeals. Too turned on, even. He was rock-hard and the pressure was getting a little uncomfortable.

Crawling back up her body, he admitted, "Sam? I'm not gonna last much longer." Not the most romantic line in his repertoire, but hey. He was desperate.

"Okay by me," she said, grinning, and flipped him onto his back. Oh, yeah. She straddled him and grabbed his cock, fingers teasing along the vein as she directed him to her ... and he came all over her hand.

"Oh, no," he moaned, covering his face. Well, the pressure was gone anyway ... "No, no, no, no, no!"

"Jack, it's okay." She was smiling sweetly as she wiped her fingers on the sheet.

"No," he said, and held up a hand to stop her. "*No.* I'm not having a crisis of confidence, I don't need the talk. I just really, really want to fuck you. The universe is out to get me, I swear."

Now she was the one trying not to laugh.

"Sure, humiliate me when I'm already down," he said affectionately.

"You ever think about how crazy our lives are?"

"Regularly. Usually when I'm jerking off alone off-world."

Now genuinely laughing, she started to move off him, but he stopped her. "Like the view," he explained, sliding a hand between her legs.

"Ohhh ... I won't stop you."

He began a rhythmic assault on her clitoris and watched happily as her eyes closed and her head fell back. She traced a sensuous line from her neck to her stomach with the tips of her fingers -- he didn't think she even knew she was doing it -- and he grabbed the hand to lead it to where he was already busy. She opened her eyes and smiled at him as they took turns flicking at the little bundle of nerves.

The muscles in her belly contracted as she moved her hips above him, her breaths heavy and deep. Then he pushed a little further back and entered her -- two, three, all five fingers, while she kept circling and dipping. With his free hand he reached for the nearest breast and squeezed, hard.

Oh, what a sight she made -- she was absolutely shameless in bed, and he absolutely loved it. He could watch this for hours. Unfortunately, his little friend was not nearly as interested in the show. It just kept lying there, the goddamn ingrate.

She was moaning and murmuring, "Oh oh oh ... god, yes, please, yes." She sped up, her hand moving more erratically, and he pushed his fingers as far in as they would go. They brought her off together, her insides convulsing sweetly around him.

"We are a *great* team," he said as she was coming down off her high.

She cracked up. But then she jumped off him, saying, "God, I really, really need to pee," and *he* cracked up. They needed their own sitcom. Of course, they'd have to kill anybody who watched it.

He woke up alone *again*, though it really wasn't surprising since she'd had such a long nap yesterday. Voices from Cassie's room told him they were having the real boyfriend talk. He was pretty sure he'd only been the emergency backup.

So he showered, had some toast and coffee, and lay on the couch to watch the Simpsons episodes she'd taped for him.

She showed up in the middle of the second, tapping his head to tell him to move so she could sit. He settled back in her lap and kept laughing while she read the journal that had been so rudely tossed aside in favor of not-entirely-hot sex the night before.

"This is as good as the other thing," he said quietly as he fast-forwarded through a commercial. God, he was such a sap.

"Watching the Simpsons?"

He pinched her thigh. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," she admitted. Her free hand landed in his hair and stroked gently until she had to turn a page. Then, thankfully, it came back. Not that he'd been worried.

When the tape ended he rolled onto his back to look up at her. "Whatcha reading?"

"Hot new paper on wormhole theory. Totally wrong. Of course they have no idea."

"Well, they think it's still theory."

"Yeah." He knew she sometimes wished she could publish -- take credit in academia for all the amazing things she'd done. Personally he thought saving the world on a regular basis was way more impressive, but that didn't mean he didn't sympathise.

"Where is everybody?"

"Cassie is actually studying. You did good last night, by the way."

"I had no clue what to say."

"That's okay. She wouldn't have taken your advice, anyway." She closed the journal, marking her place with one finger, and rested it on his chest.

"Great. Is he really that much of a jerk?"

"I don't think so. We just get to hear the bad stuff. They're back together this morning, by the way."

"Oh, god. You met him?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Shouldn't we -- you know?"

She narrowed her eyes and regarded him oddly, her hand stilling on his head. "She'll bring him home when she's ready," was all she said.

He wasn't even going to try to figure out what that meant. Next topic. "Where's Jake?"

"Talked him into grocery shopping for me. Said something that mundane and earthly would do him good."

"You're evil. I *love* that."

She didn't laugh, as he'd expected her to. "He wouldn't tell me anything about this last mission -- just that it was 'difficult.' Did he talk to you?"

"A little." More than a little, actually, and it hadn't been pretty. Jacob had said he didn't want Sam to worry after the fact; Jack agreed. "It's over, anyway. He's fine, Sam."

She sighed. "I know. He wanted to stop by the base this morning, too, and check in with the Tok'ra."

"Huh. Wonder why."

"To get out of our hair for a little while, I think," she smiled. "And Cassie's heading back to Boulder after lunch."

"We drove them both away? Have we really been that bad?"

"She says she wants to have dinner with the jerk," she explained. "And Dad'll have me all to himself for the rest of the week. But yes, we probably have been that bad."

"I can't help it. I am powerless in the face of your overwhelming hotness."

"You do know you can cut out the pickup lines once you've already gotten me into bed, right?" She waved the journal around a little bit in her hand. "Let's go for a walk this afternoon," she said suddenly.

"A what? How many 'walks' does the US government pay you to take every week?"

"Someplace nice," she added, ignoring him. "Garden of the Gods?"

"Do I *look* like a tourist to you?"

"Rampart Reservoir, then. Nice views, flat trail, easy on the knees for an old guy like you ..."

"It's *cold* out there," he said. Winding her up was just too much fun.

"You played golf yesterday."

"That was different. It was *golf*."

She smiled angelically and patted his head. "Do you want to see me naked tonight?"

"Good point. Hey, Sam, wanna go out to the reservoir later?"

Jacob returned a little before noon, and more than a little traumatized. Seemed he'd decided to buy them all sushi for lunch -- apparently he knew Cassie loved it, though how he knew that Jack had no idea -- and Selmak had had a bit of a panic attack when they'd picked up the eel roll.

"It's okay," Cassie said, digging through the bags for a snack. "They cook the eel first, it's not like -- Oh." Suddenly realising what the problem was, she snapped her mouth shut and froze.

And, dammit, Jack knew that if he laughed he'd never, ever have sex again. Eight long years had left Sam with a completely non-paranormal sixth sense for his wisecracks, and she was currently giving him her "say a word and die, flyboy" look while trying to say soothing things to her father.

Damn, damn, damn. The best snake-mocking opportunity he'd ever had, and he couldn't even use it! Life was just evil.

"Um, sorry, Selmak." Cassie held the potato chip bag solemnly with both hands, and Jack couldn't laugh at that, either.

Selmak was too horrified to comment, but Jacob assured them she hadn't taken it personally. And he'd brought turkey clubs and potato salad instead.

Their own sitcom. Seriously.

Cassie drafted Jack to help her pack up her car after lunch. As she shuffled clothes and books and bags around (how the hell did she *fit* that much stuff in there?) Jack offered lots of assurances that he would be happy to beat up the jerk if necessary.

"Jack," she said, a little too much like the way her mother used to say *Now, sir* when she pulled out the needles.

"What? I'm just saying."

She ducked her head. "He's really kind of sweet," she said shyly. "I like him a lot."

Jack grinned and tweaked her ear. "Cool. But I still reserve the right to beat him up."

Jacob, meanwhile, insisted that he'd rather lie around reading a Tom Clancy novel (*no chance of a dangerous seafood encounter there,* Jack thought) than trudge around a lake (Jack's words, not Sam's).

Jack got to keep right on complaining about being dragged on a healthy outing -- not because he meant it, but because Sam's exasperated-but-affectionate expression had always been one of his very favorites. He did finally remember to ask where her car remote was during the half-hour drive: she'd accidentally brought it offworld and it had been confiscated (and subsequently lost) with all of her gear. He had a funny image of some future Daniel finding it on P3W-571 in a few hundred years and being very, very confused.

"Ah," he said, holding out his arms a quarter mile along the trail, "Just like old times. Trees, mud, you ... "

"The difference being that you no longer have to come up with a military-approved excuse to stare at my ass."

"No," he agreed, and stared at the aforementioned ass, "No, I don't. And it's in fine form today, I must say."

"So's yours."

"You're in front of me. You can't know that."

She looked over her shoulder. "I'm right, though."

Another couple passed them with a very cute dog, and they exchanged hellos. When they were out of sight, Sam pushed him up against a tree with a stealthiness that did the USAF proud. He thought it was really hot that she could kick his ass.

He dug his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and pulled her closer. And his little friend decided now would be a great time to wake up. In a *big* way.

"Oh, crap," he said.

She laughed into his neck. "You have terrible timing."

"*We* have terrible timing. This is your fault. Wanna go sneak off into the woods?"

"In March? I don't think so." Which implied that she might be willing in, say, June, which really did not help him with his little problem.

Luckily, a family with a couple very cute kids came into view, so he had to let her go. Unluckily, he also had to beg her to walk in front of him. Jesus, shouldn't he be *over* this kind of thing at his age? All her fault, clearly. Though he had a lot of trouble holding it against her. The ass really was in fine form in those jeans. And he was staring at it again when he heard her SGC ringtone.

"Damn," Sam said, pulling out her phone.

Jack moaned. "No. Oh, God, no. Let me answer it."

She ignored him -- she was smart that way -- and flipped the damn thing open herself. "Carter ... oh, hey, Daniel ... yeah, he's right -- "

He pulled it from her hand, despite copious objections. "Daniel? I am so gonna kick your ass."

"Hello, Jack." The bastard sounded way too amused. Sam tried to steal the phone back and he turned to get away from her. "Nice to talk to you, too. Interrupting something, am I?"

"Yes, it's just lovely to talk to you -- never mind the fact that I had lunch with you on Friday and have been talking with you by MALP every day for the last week." The SGC had some archaeologists stationed on the Alpha Site, investigating some ruins Daniel had found pretty much on the other side of the planet.

"So I didn't interrupt anything, then?" *Way* too amused. "I figured, middle of the afternoon, with Jacob and Cassie around ... "

"Lucky for you, no, you didn't." He fought off another attempt from Sam and tried not to laugh. "What the hell do you want, anyway?"

"Uh ... to talk to Sam? Thought that'd be obvious, Jack."

"She can't go to the base," he said. "We're *miles* away. *Miles.*"

Sam was muttering, "Dammit, Jack, would you give me the phone?" He tried to hold her an arm's distance away. It didn't work.

"Miles away where?" Daniel asked.

Whoops. "Um. Hiking."

"You don't hike."

"Do too."

Daniel laughed into the phone. "She has got you so whipped, Jack."

He grinned. Whipped definitely had its benefits. "From day one, Danny," he said just before she snuck up behind him and managed to get the phone away.

So he snuck up behind her and kissed her neck while she tried to talk. "Sorry, Daniel ... Yeah, he's even more of a pain in the ass now ... Uh-huh." She swatted his hand from where it was heading, covered the microphone, and whispered, "Jack!" He was strangely unrepentant. A lone, male hiker walked by, and Jack waved. Gleefully.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. You know the password? ... No problem. No, just ignore him." She then blushed so red he could feel her skin heat up through his lips. "Daniel! Jesus ... Good-bye, Daniel."

She closed the phone and pulled away, turning to face him. "He just wanted my permission to get something off my lab computer," she explained, clearly not intending to comment on whatever else he'd said.

"Yeah. And?"

"And nothing. Come on." She resumed walking, dragging him along by the hand and pointedly ignoring his laugh.

Back at the Hotel Carter, one of the guests had fully checked out, and the other, according to a note they found on the fridge, had headed over to the Hotel Hammond to play poker. Jack sort of suspected that Jacob had begged George for the invite, but he so had no complaints. Hell no.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I love your dad?"

Sam's look of concern quickly morphing into a wicked gleam. He grabbed her hand and tugged.

"C'mere," he said. They'd left their muddy boots by the front door, so their socks slid on the hardwood floors. "Thought you wanted to take me out to dinner?" she asked coyly. Well, as coyly as a supremely hot, ass-kicking astrophysicist-doctor-Air Force Lieutenant Colonel could manage, which wasn't very.

"More pressing business. Unless you're too hungry to wait?" He closed the bedroom door behind them. And locked it, just in case.

"Noooo ... I think I can handle it." And she pushed him back to the bed, forcing him to sit. He really couldn't help grinning like an idiot when she kneeled on the floor and reached for his belt.

"Oh, hell yeah," he moaned as she jerked down his pants and boxers.

"Timing getting better?"

"*Oh* yeah."

She wrapped one hand tight around the base of his cock, clearly not taking any chances at a repeat of last night. Smart woman. He let his fingers settle in her hair while she licked him like a goddamn ice cream cone, tongue swirling around his overheated skin. The tip darted to the underside of his head, tantalizingly fast, and then moved on. Jesus. He wanted to be in her mouth and she was toying with him. He loved it.

"Tease."

She murmured a "hmmm" deep in her throat without stopping her work, and squeezed her hand harder. He started reaching for her clothes but couldn't get very far from this angle -- plus she seemed completely unwilling to let go of his dick. Of course that was not entirely a bad thing. But she *still* hadn't closed her lips around him, damn her.

Okay, enough of that. He pulled her up on the bed and she pouted, lips full and red and wet and just begging to be kissed. So he did, deeply and thoroughly, taking over her mouth with his tongue while he scrambled to get her jeans and sweater off. But she was even squirmier than usual, so he had to push her onto her back and finally, regretfully, give up her lips. She grinned at him and immediately wriggled out of her panties and socks, leaving him to reach under her to unhook her bra. It was just plain cotton today, but he so did not care as long as it was *off*. And he was still hanging out of the waistband of his khakis, so they had to go, too. Sam made quick work of his rugby shirt.

He sat back on his heels and grabbed one of her feet, having not quite recovered from the pretty-blue-toenails surprise of Saturday morning. They were still pretty and blue and one of them somehow ended up in his mouth. She groaned happily.

"Love your feet," he said, and tickled a line up the sole with his tongue.

She shivered. "They're just feet."

"They're *your* feet." *Such* a sap. He didn't care. Her other heel prodded insistently at his thigh, and the result was a really nice angle of vision right between her legs. Holy crap. And when she realised what he was staring at, with her toe still resting on his tongue, she raised her hands to cup her own breasts. Oh, holy crap.

She pushed both breasts together, her eyes laughing at him. Ohboyohboyohboy. He was so lost.

He dropped her foot. "Tease," he said again. And, not willing to lose the view, he leaned over her to grab a pillow. She pinched her right nipple.

"Would you cut that out?" he asked. "It's distracting."

"I think that's the point." She pinched the left and held it, twisting the flesh between her fingertips. Oh, evil, evil woman. Had he just this morning admitted that he loved that about her?

He nudged her hips so he could push the pillow under her ass and the small of her back. She said, "Oooh."

"Definitely 'Oooh.'"

Her knees fell back towards her shoulders and she was wide open to him -- thighs spread, feet high in the air, and so, so fuckable. He wasn't the kind of guy who got off on submissiveness, but there was just something about *her* trusting *him* that completely. Incredible.

She licked two fingers and wet an areola, eyes still laughing.

"Oh, for crying out loud ... "

"Yes, Jack? Something bothering you?"

He had to think very hard about very icky things. Replicators. Goa'uld sushi. Those little worm-like bugs that invaded their food stores on the Alpha Site every time it rained. Ew.

Okay, that was better -- he wasn't going to explode the second he touched her. But he *had* to touch her. Kneeling up, he pressed in slowly ... slowly ... oh yeah.

She sucked in a breath and moaned it out, arms flying over her head for leverage. She was practically upside down and she rocked against him wildly. Oh, so unbelievably hot. He planted his hands on the mattress and her ankles found his shoulders.

"Oh, fuck," she breathed. "So good."

"Worth waiting for," he grunted.

"Ohhh ... Jack ... "

He ran through his list of ickiness again as he moved. He was going to make her lose it first if it killed him. She tilted her hips on the pillow, changing his angle so he could hit that one spot inside, and let out a sharp "Oh!" when he found it. Her face scrunched up in pleasure and she kept murmuring his name and he would never, ever get enough of this.

"Love you," he said softly, watching her glazed eyes as their hips collided.

"God, yes. Love you."

"Touch yourself again."

She smiled. "Liked that, did you?" And she did, dragging one hand from her hair down to her clit, tapping her fingers against him where he joined with her, and finally (he guessed; he couldn't quite see) settling a little higher.

"Hell yeah," he said. "*Love* that."

She twisted a bit under him, her body jerking faster as her eyes slipped shut. And he had to remember to think very un-sexy thoughts while he watched her.

"Oh, oh *god* ... Jack ... are you ready?"

"Are you serious? I've been ready for hours."

She opened her eyes. "Oh yeah. I forgot."

"Just ... hurry up," he said.

She laughed at him, and the laugh turned into a long string of "Ohyesohyesohyesohyes" as she rubbed herself fiercely. Then she let go and he managed to wait about half a second before he did the same.

When they'd both started breathing almost normally again, he fell onto his back and pulled her head to his chest. She muttered "Ow" a few times as she moved.

"Ow?"

She curved into him, bending one leg over his thighs, and he could feel her wet heat near his skin. "Hips. Ow."

He chuckled and combed his fingers through her hair.

"We'll put you in that position sometime and see how you like it. Ow."

Huh. Actually that sounded kinda hot. "You seemed to like it."

"Hell yeah. Mmm. But ow."

"Don't sleep," he said. "Dinner."

It didn't take much work to convince her to go out without showering first -- and knowing that she still smelled of him (of *them*) under the pretty yellow skirt he'd asked her to wear was sexy as hell. He spent most of dinner (at a classy Thai place she loved) completely unable to keep his hand away from her yellow-covered thigh.

"You move one inch under that skirt and I swear you'll go back through that gate a eunuch," she said oh-so-sweetly as she ate her curry. He tapped his fingers on her knee, just below the hemline.

And much later, after they'd watched the Simpsons together and said goodnight to Jacob, she broke out the peppermint massage oil -- he'd given it to her for Christmas as part of her secret, behind-closed-doors present -- and he pretty much melted at her feet. She got rubbed down first, with plenty of oohs and ahhs, and she promised that her hips weren't stiff anymore. He fell asleep on his stomach, with her poised over his back, her hands hard at work, and the smell of peppermint and sex mingling all around them.

On Monday morning he woke up to Sam's alarm and he was not (thank god) alone. In fact, there was a very nice rear end very nicely wiggling against his groin.

One bare Carter arm stretched out to turn off the beeping. He kissed the back of her neck and reached around her to trace the crease of her thigh and scrape through her short curls.

She only put up with that for a few seconds before rolling onto her back and dragging him on top of her. He looked down into her morning smile and sank into her so, so easily. She voiced her approval with a high-pitched sigh, locking her ankles around his back. Then she tried to move on his cock but he pressed her down on the bed to keep her still. He stayed buried deep, and ground his pubic bone against hers.

When she went to slip a hand between them, he slapped it away. She groaned. "We don't have time for you to make me beg," she said brightly.

"Don't need time." He knew he was tugging at the skin around her clit. He also knew it would drive her insane.

"Jack ..."

"Tell me you love me."

"Oh, for god's sake. You know I do."

He grinned. "Tell me."

"Okay, okay -- *oh, god* -- I love you."

"Tell me you'll miss me."

She rolled her eyes and tried to squirm. "I'll miss you -- *ohohoh* -- even if you are a fifty-one-year-old adolescent."

He leaned down to kiss her, and rested his forehead on hers. "Tell me it won't be another two damn months before we get to do this again."

"Two and half," she gasped. "Ohhh -- oh, please, please --" And then more calmly, "That's not up to me, I'm afraid."

He slid out and she shuddered, saying, "Oh, thank god."

Back in, and he adjusted his weight on one elbow so his other hand was free to give in to her begging. She fell to pieces, her head tossing on the pillow and her thighs squeezing him tight. He was only too happy to follow.

They drove in silence to the base, having learned that it was completely useless to make any plans for the next time they'd see each other. And he said good-bye in her lab, because they'd also learned that her accompanying him down to the gate room was a bad idea.

"Keep an eye on Cassie's jerk of a boyfriend, okay?" he asked. "I'm only a MALP away if he needs a good thrashing."

She was logging into her computer, hardly paying any attention to him -- or pretending not to, anyway. "I'm sure I can thrash him myself if necessary." She paused, thinking. "For that matter, so can Cassie."

"Good point." The kid was her mother's daughter, after all. "Have fun with your dad."

"I will. Have fun with your rebel Jaffa."

"Ha ha. Be careful, will you? And don't work too hard."

She rolled her eyes. "Good-bye, Jack."

He grinned. "Yeah. See ya."

No good-bye kiss, either -- it might not be a court-martial offense anymore, but he *really* didn't want a make-out session ending up on a security tape that would be shown a the SGC New Year's Eve party until the end of time. So he gave her a smile he knew she particularly liked, slung his hands into the pockets of his BDUs, and wandered out into the corridor.

On his way to the elevator he decided he'd stop in Hammond's office. A well-placed hint or two that he might have to quit the next time his leave was cancelled couldn't hurt.

It might get him laughed right up the ramp and into the event horizon, but it couldn't hurt.

***

fin.

"Believe me I'd know what to do, but something won't let me make love to you."