Title: Her Favorite Time of Day

Author: em

Email: em_the_gem@sbcglobal.net, beatrice51398@yahoo.com

Status: Complete. Sequel to `His Favorite T-shirt.' More to come, if I can find the time!!

Category: S/J romance (pretty fluffy!), short, kind of UST-ish, I guess?

Rating: PG-13 (itty bitty language, some innuendo, and um, a scene with a bath :> )

Summary: Who knew bubbles could be such a turn on… (This is a sequel to `His Favorite T-shirt,' in which we see Jack practicing an impressive amount of self-control. But there's only so much a man can take…)

Spoilers: Nothing, actually. Void of any references to anything of substance!

Archive: SJD, yes – anybody else, just ask

Disclaimer: Sam and Jack and Co. sadly belong to MGM, Gekko Corp and Double Secret – evidence of this can be found in the fact that after 7 seasons, these two people still aren't together. If I owned them, they would have been married by season 2. They'd have six kids by now. Yeah. No money was made, no copyright infringement meant, yada yada yada.

Notes: I'd say read `His Favorite T-shirt' first, but it's not totally necessary. I think you'll catch on quickly…

Feedback: Ooh, feedback is a beautiful thing, please send some my way!! As before, the chances of me continuing this little tale will be greatly influenced by the amount of feedback I get!! :)

_______________

It wasn't until Jack got out of his truck and began walking towards her house that he finally started to relax. Here he was safe from the smug, knowing smiles of Janet and Daniel, both of whom seemed obsessed with gleeping into Jack's office with little or no warning. He wasn't sure exactly what they knew (though he had a pretty good guess), or why they kept showing up for no reason (probably to see if they could gather more evidence), but he was really glad this whole secrecy thing was going to be over, come tomorrow. Tomorrow was the moment of truth – Jack was going to tell Hammond, Sam was going to tell Jacob, and they both were nervous as hell. Then again, it wasn't every day you got to tell your boss you were in love with your second in command, Jack reminded himself with a slight grin. At least he would get to see the look of shock on the General's face, even if the look was followed by some severe chewing-out.

Rolling his shoulders, trying to release some more tension, Jack hopped up the last two stairs leading to Sam's house and knocked on the front door. A few moments passed, and no one answered. He rang the doorbell. Still nothing. He glanced once more at the driveway, confirming that her car was there. Jack shrugged, thinking maybe she was out for a run, and dug into his jacket pocket for his keys, which now included a shiny new key to Sam's place. In the past few days, she had taken to hiding random presents in his office for him to find, and this was today's treasure. It had been hidden under his Gameboy in his desk, taped to blank notecard. There was no signature or note, but there was a tiny drawn smiley face in the corner of the card, the handwriting unmistakable.

As he slid the key into the door and opened it up, Jack didn't bother to hide the grin that was slowly forming on his lips. A month ago, if somebody had told him that he would have Carter's house key on his keyring, and that his favorite t-shirt would be residing in her dresser…

"What the…" Jack murmured as he glanced down the hall towards Sam's living room, and saw what could only be a meticulously planned trap. The lights were off, leaving the house completely dark except for several large, lit candles that seemed to point out a kind of path towards the bedroom. Her bedroom. "Sam?" he inquired, the smile in his voice audible as he followed the candles. He turned the corner around her couch, then stopped suddenly, his eyes widening. Was that what he thought it was? Jack felt his temperature go up several degrees as he gazed at the sight before him. A pair of her jeans, obviously taken off in haste and thrown to the side, followed by her jacket, sweater, t-shirt… Jack gulped when he reached her bedroom door, and saw a black, very lacy, designed-by-Victoria's-secret-to- drive-men-crazy type bra laying on the floor inside her room. The door was mostly open, and even though Jack couldn't see the bed from his current vantage point, he was pretty sure he knew whom he would find there.

With a sharp intake of breath and a weird flip-flopping sensation in his stomach, Jack froze in front of her bedroom, his mind a jumble of utterly chaotic desires. He wanted to do the right thing – they had both agreed not to get physical until after they told Hammond – but lately it felt like he was the only one who still wanted to stick to the plan! Every time he turned around, Sam was giving him these sexy smiles that made him want to pull her into the nearest supply closet and wipe that smirk right off her face…

So it was decision time, then. He knew if he went into that room, there was no way he was going to be able to resist. The only way to avoid catastrophe was to turn around and walk out of her house, and not look back. He could wait until tomorrow, couldn't he?

Jack glanced down again at the bra at his feet.

"Aw, who am I kidding?" he said, succeeding in pushing the bedroom door open with one hand, tugging his shirt off with the other, and stepping inside all in one swift movement. The room was dark, and his eyes took a second to adjust. He could see the outline of the bed, the pillows leaning neatly against the headboard, a shard of light filtering into the room from underneath the bathroom door... Was that music he was hearing? Another look at the bed confirmed it was neat, clean, and entirely *empty*. Another glance at the light coming from the bathroom, and he saw the last piece of the puzzle. Flowery blue underwear, placed strategically at the entrance of the bathroom – to lure him in, no doubt. Wow, he had to admit he loved the way her mind worked…

"Sam?" he inquired softly as he pushed the bathroom door open. His first thought was that there were sure a lot of bubbles in that tub. His second thought was something along the lines of duck!

A small, yellow blur sailed towards Jack's head, hitting him squarely in the forehead before he had a chance to move. So much for those lightning quick reflexes…

"JACK?!?" Sam squealed, the end of his name becoming quite unintelligible as she inhaled some of the bath bubbles and began coughing, her eyes wide with shock. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her cheeks flushing crimson as she frantically swirled more bubbles over the water in front of her.

"Ah, I…" Jack bumbled, partly due to the fact that right now, he was seeing more of Sam's skin than he had in a long time. A *very* long time, actually. After a long gaze at her bare shoulders, her neck, and her lips, his eyes finally made their way back up to her face, and he tried to understand what was going on here.

"And why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she asked, her face flushing an even darker red as she eyed his chest for a split second before returning her gaze to his eyes. "And how did you get in?"

Jack lifted up the house key, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Key?" he answered simply, wondering if Sam was feeling okay. This is not the kind of thing she would forget, usually.

"And you thought spying on me while I'm in the bathtub would be a good way to unwind?" she asked, calming slightly, her eyes sparkling with the mischievousness that always came when she teased him

Jack shrugged, his own face relaxing as his eyes lingered on her bare shoulders. "Well…" he murmured darkly, casually stepping closer to her. "It's not a bad way to *start* unwinding…"

"Watch it…" she warned, her voice low and playful as she grabbed a large bottle of shampoo and brandished it at him. "You better not come any closer, or I'll be forced to, um… Squirt you," she finished, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a giggle.

Jack slowed his pace, but continued drawing closer. "Hey, you're the one who made a trail of candles and discarded clothing leading me straight into your little love trap. I don't think you're in the position to make any threats," he teased, smiling the half-grin he knew she found irresistible.

Sam was silent for a moment, slight confusion crossing her pleasantly amused face. "Trap? But, I didn't…"

Jack bent down and picked up the underwear in the doorway with his index finger. "You didn't?" he repeated, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he regarded the distinctly feminine undergarment with keen interest, then looked back at Sam.

Suddenly her expression changed, and Sam fought to keep control of her giggles as she sunk lower into the tub. "Oh my goodness… You thought…" she looked up at Jack's face and smiled sheepishly. "I swear to you, I lit the candles because the house smelled like garlic from last night's take out…"

Jack wasn't at all convinced. "And how do you explain the…"

"Trail?" she completed his question, then looked distractedly at the bubbles still covering almost every square inch of water around her. "Um, I like baths?" she said, more like a question than an answer. "A *lot*," she added with emphasis, looking back up at Jack, a hint of a smile tugging at one side of her mouth.

Jack chuckled, shaking his head at her girlish confession, and thinking how cute she looked when she was flustered.

"What? I'm always pulling muscles off world, and this is the only thing that helps!" she responded, slightly defensive. "It's my favorite time of the day…"

"Ya think?" Jack muttered, eyeing the discarded underwear once more.

"Okay, so sometimes I get a little, shall we say, overzealous in my bath preparations," Sam explained with an impish smile, looking up to meet Jack's gaze once more.

"A *little* overzealous?" Jack teased, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"Oh, shut up, Jack, or I'll throw another rubber duck at you…" she threatened darkly, then pointed to a towel that was residing on the floor by his feet. "Grab me that, then go make us some coffee, will you? Bath water's kind of getting cold…" she trailed off as he bent over to grab the towel.

Jack stood back up, towel in hand, suddenly aware of two very blue eyes watching his every move.

"Sugar?"

Sam's eyes jerked up to meet his. She blinked. Twice. "Huh?"

"You want sugar? In the coffee?" Jack repeated, highly amused by her sudden complete lack of intelligent communication.

"Oh, right. Yeah, lots of… um, sugar. Right," she exhaled, smiling weakly and taking the towel from him.

Jack nodded, glanced once more at the bubbles surrounding her, and forced himself to leave the bathroom. "One more day, one more day," he muttered to himself like a mantra as he passed the lacy bra on his way to the kitchen. Oh yeah, he was *definitely* looking forward to seeing that little black number in action.

_________________

Feedback is always reason for celebration, and renews my interest in finishing this little series… ;) beatrice51398@yahoo.com