Brief Summary: It finally happened.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Yes, yes, very cliché. Whatever : )
As always, feedback is much appreciated.
It had happened only once before, as far as Sam was aware. Captain Graham on SG-7 had been assaulted by two of her male team members, under the influence of some alien hormonal drug, but when she'd tried to escape their advances, she'd walked into her CO's instead. As Sam understood it, Captain Graham and Major Hardy hadn't exactly been great friends - she was a replacement for the loss of another much grieved-for member - and their resulting carnal knowledge of each other hadn't helped matters. Captain Graham was transferred to SG-9 post-haste and both she and the Major had joint counselling together.
Sam had a suspicion that they were dating now though, actually, that was only rumour.
But that had been different. That had been mostly non-consensual. This time, the second time in SGC history, the drug had been influential, but it hadn't been everything. The incentive had been there, but neither had been unwilling. In fact, both had been decidedly... what was the word? Oh yes...
...acquiescent.
She wondered what would happen to them if they couldn't keep this out of the reports. Would she be transferred to another SG team? Back to the Pentagon? She knew Area 51 had been clamouring for her in recent months.
Was it really so awful? Two people consummating a relationship that had definitely been more than just friends? Hammond must have seen in coming. He'd seen the zay'tarc security tapes, after all, even if that had been two years ago.
Jack murmured something into the back of her neck, and she found herself smiling, turning her head to look at what she could of him. He was sleeping deeper than she'd ever seen him ever sleep before, his entire body relaxed against her back, breathing heavy and slow, face looking young and untroubled. The exceptionally tousled hair made him look ridiculously boyish, Sam decided, her heart filling with love for him.
Always off-world, his sleeping state was light so he could wake immediately alert. It was something she always admired in him, but she suspected had been a part of a training very different to hers. Looking at his file, and at the huge chunks of censored information, she could only piece together what little he had occasionally told them, but she knew black ops, secret ops, picked their men for their exceptional military skills.
And he was certainly exceptional.
Wanting to study him further while she still could, in the safe intimacy of darkness, she wiggled around in his arms until they were pressed together more intimately, her breasts pressed up against his chest, her legs running the length of his. The hands that had been cradling her abdomen protectively now wrapped around the small of her back, his face tucked in against the pillow.
He didn't even stir.
Looking at him longingly, she couldn't help but feel strange twinges of maternal feelings - she recognised them; she'd felt them before, but never quite to this extent. She knew he would throw himself in front of a staff weapon if it would protect her, but she suspected he didn't know she'd do the same for him. That she would do anything to protect him, save him, bring him home. She'd threaten superior officers with her P-90, work endless days and endless nights on a machine that would have won her the Nobel Prize, put herself into crazy situations on the slightest chance that she could get to him sooner.
She'd never felt this way about anyone before, never had the urge to watch someone in their sleep like this. To reach up, as Sam did, and just touch the tips of her fingers against the perpetually mussed hair simply because she could. Now. It seemed so strange that they'd waited so long to do this, to convey to each other in the most basic way how they felt. Criminal not to, really, she decided practically.
He murmured something again, eyelids fluttering. Her heart pitched in excitement, nervousness, worry. Then his brow furrowed, his expression confused, then... oh no... hurt. "No," he said clearly, quite clearly. "Don't."
"Jack," she whispered.
"Stop it."
"Jack, wake up," she told him, putting her hands out and touching his face. "Wake up, now, Jack. It's just a dream."
"Oh God... no, no, no, no." His fingers dug into her back, painfully, his face contorted into terror as he shook his head, kicked his feet. The sheet that had been covering them was sliding off, exposing their bare flesh to the coolness of the room. "I don't know anything."
Jonas, the man she'd nearly married, had had nightmares like this, Sam recalled as she shook him, touched his face, demanded that he snap out of it. He'd hated it, seen it as a weakness of his mind. Always, without fail, as soon as she woke him up he'd struggle out of her arms and leave the room. She learnt never to go after him.
"Jack," she whispered, trying a new tactic and drawing her lips across his. "Jack, it's me, Sam. Wake up now." She kissed him properly, coaxing his mouth open with her tongue, her fingers massaging his tense jaw.
He sighed against her mouth, his eyes opening slightly. "Sam," he breathed reverently, eyes holding all the love in the world for her.
"Yeah."
"I dreamed..."
"I know."
He kissed her back, his mouth moving against hers. Then he was pushing her over, sliding his body over hers, kissing her harder, slipping his tongue into her mouth. "You're here," he murmured, hands streaking down to cup her breasts.
"I am, yeah, ah..." Her eyes fluttered closed as his hands worked pleasurable wonders on her skin.
"I dreamed..."
"I know.. oh!"
Afterwards, exhausted, Sam lay limply underneath him, her eyes closed helplessly. She felt him move off of her, was slightly surprised when she felt him sit up and the sheets rustle. She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes, but all she could see was the taut lines of his back as he sat, legs over the side of the bed. Something in his body language alerted an instinct in Sam that had her heart beating faster as fear trickled its way down from her brain. The worry that had raised its head so fleetingly before raised its pitiful head again.
He bent down and reached for his pants.
Sam curled over onto her side, away from him, closing her eyes against what was happening. Cursing herself for not thinking about this beforehand, for not getting out of the room when she had the chance, Sam prayed that she would get through this. If she hadn't been here when he'd had that dream, he wouldn't have woken up with her, they wouldn't have taken the second step towards Court Martial, the destruction of the team they'd built. Alien influence could only go so far - and the second time they'd made love had nothing to do with alien influence and everything to do with emotions.
She felt the bed rise as he stood, heard the brush of material over his body as he dressed in the hurriedly, feverishly discarded clothing. Sam turned her head further into the pillows, bit down hard to stop herself from making a noise, from saying something that would only get them into more trouble. This was the right choice. They were not going to acknowledge what had just happened.
But her body was aching delicately and she could feel him all over her. If she took in a deep breath, she could smell him on her skin, and knew he could do the same.
Beyond her closed lids she could see the soft candlelight from the hallway as he, Colonel O'Neill, opened the door. Then the light was gone.
For a few minutes, Sam lay absolutely still. Dead still. All around her she could hear nothing but silence. No ticking clocks, no insects, no birds, no night noises at all. Nothing beyond the beating of her own heart. Then slowly she began to release her grip on the pillow, her jaw relaxing its tense hold. She opened her eyes and waited.
Waited.
Surely she ought to be feeling something right now?
Something?
Oh, yes, here it came...
*
*
*
Jack crawled forwards onto his bed and found out that he'd started shaking. He didn't know when it had began - that blind walk from her room to his had been just that - blind of all thoughts, sights, feelings, sounds - so he was unable to recall anything about that two minute journey beyond the fact that he'd definitely got from A to B.
He slumped on the bed, face down, fully dressed. Unbidden, images of the past night flashed behind his eyelids and he groaned, quickly rolling onto his back and opening his eyes. No luck there, the images returned to taunt him. Nothing full frontal, of course. Tasteful little titbits - one long leg draped elegantly over a sheet and him, the pale curve of hip, the beautiful tilt of her neck. The way her breasts felt in his hands, the soft glinting blonde hairs on her thighs and the mole on her pelvis which he'd kissed several times.
The expression on her face when she'd called out his name. His name. Finally, God, his name.
Jack sat up, eyes wide, hands clawing the sheets of the alien bed, on the alien planet. The damn alien civilisation who'd made him sleep with his second in command. Forced him to peel her uniform off her and make it his personal mission to touch every part of her body, to become acquainted with every dip and curve and rise by touch and taste alone.
Abruptly, he stood up, paced to the door, his hand reaching out instinctively. He froze. Where did his body think it was going? Surely not back to her?
A part of his mind presented him with blissful images of returning to her, of stripping his clothes and slipping between the sheets, of her wrapping those legs about him again, of her mouth reaching for his, for that spike in passion and lust and love.....
Choking, stepping back from the door like it was diseased, he kept walking backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed and he was forced to sit down. He stared at that damned door like it was the doorway to hell.
And waited.
Waited.
The next thing he knew, light was filtering in through the thin muslin curtains. Something in the distance started beeping. It took him a good few minutes to work himself out of his zombie state and fumble for the button on his watch to switch the alarm off. Oh-six-hundred, he read. Blinked several times. Only after the blinking did his brain connect. Oh, six in the morning. Time to get up, get going, return home.
Automatically, he reached for his radio, depressed the button and spoke. "Rise and shine campers." His voice came out rusty and he shook his head. "Oh-six-hundred, people. I want you outside in the courtyard in ten minutes. No excuses." His finger flung off the button, but he continued to stare at the radio.
It was with immense misery that Jack realised today they were going to see, once and for all, if they could do this. If having intimate knowledge of each other's bodies affected their professionalism in any way.
Depressingly, Jack already knew. There was no way he could ever look at Carter in the same way again. If he'd thought being secretly in love with her was bad, this was going to be worse. Already he could feel a savage anger at their situation forcing itself up his throat - fury at himself, herself, for letting some pathetic drug get the better of them, fury at the Air Force for sensibly having frat regulations, fury at this damn planet, fury at his damn libido which had waited, impatiently, for this time to come. If he wasn't careful, this anger that was bubbling so beautifully under his skin was going to spill out, and there was only certain places it could go. From Jack's limitless experience of his own twisted personality, he knew that his anger would strike out at probably the one person who would be hurt most of all.
He took a deep breath, counted slowly and calmly to ten in his head. He would control it. This time. This time there would be no loss of control. He was a different man now, a changed man. The experiences over the past few years, the friends he had made, the new family he had begun, had gone a long way in soothing the tragedies of the past couple of decades. She had certainly played a part in that, and he couldn't help but think of her part in soothing out the aftershocks of his nightmare, the sweet, soft kiss she had used to awaken him from Ba'al's continuing torture. For the first time in months, he hadn't woken retching and already halfway towards the bathroom.
A knock on the door had his eyes flinging open, his heart rate rising. "Who is it?" he called tremulously.
"Colonel, it's me," Jonas said, tones of excitement at the prospect of a new day with SG-1 in his voice. "Can I come in?"
His voice sounded so absurdly normal that Jack found himself, of all things, smiling grimly. "Door's open." Jack put the radio to one side on the bed and waited.
Jonas pushed open the door, and grinned. His brown eyes started searching the dim room for any sign of disarray. Presumably, Jonas, like Teal'c, had witnessed the frantic fireside kissing the previous night, when Carter had insinuated herself erotically onto Jack's lap and he had proceeded to go further with her in public than he had ever done with any woman in his entire life. Fortunately - or perhaps, not fortunately - one of the natives had pointed out that their rooms were relatively close to the field in which the celebration was being held and he and Carter had made their way slowly back to her room, which had been even closer.
"So, ready to go?" he said in overly cheerful tones. Typically overly cheerful tones, Jack had learnt.
Jack raised his eyebrows. "Take a seat, Jonas," he said, thinking he'd better start covering up now. Teal'c, he knew, wouldn't say a thing about it, not to Hammond and not to anyone else. Probably not even to him and Carter, come to think of it. But Jonas was another matter. Jonas had only been on SG-1 for a short period of time and his experience with military matters was limited at best.
Clearly, Jonas knew what was coming and he hesitated. "Look, Colonel, what you and Sam do..."
" Is as much your business as it is ours," Jack finished for him. Tiredly. Looking at the man he had come to... perhaps not respect, not yet, but certainly he had come to adjust to his presence, Jack forced the words out of his mouth, "We had sex."
"Yeah." Embarrassed, Jonas looked down at his shiny black boots, perfectly polished. "I guessed as much. Um, Colonel, the water you were drinking..."
"Was spiked. Yeah. Someone told us shortly after we finished a cup each. We thought it wouldn't be a problem. Then we, ah, started..." Jack's vocabulary was limited in the area of 'kissing' expressions. It had been some time since he'd last done it and, frankly, 'kissing' didn't really describe what he and his second in command had done the previous night as a prelude to their bedroom activities.
"... I saw that part. No need to explain. You were influenced by aliens." Jonas paused tactfully. "I'm not sure... Colonel, the regulations manual..."
Jack snorted and gave in to the urge to wipe his hands across his face. He'd got very little sleep the night before, obviously. "Yes, Jonas, the regulations manual suggests that a relationship between a superior officer and a subordinate is prohibited."
Jonas nodded, hands not going into his pockets. "So, um..."
"What I'm asking, Jonas, is that you not record what you saw Major Carter and myself doing last night."
He blinked. "You want me to lie?"
"Jonas," Jack said patiently, even if part of him was screaming to shake the boy until his teeth chattered, "if the authorities find out, Major Carter will be transferred from the team."
"But that's ridiculous! The water had some kind of a drug in it. We could take a sample back to Doctor Fraiser and it'll all be cleared up."
Jack smiled. Oh to be that naive. "Unfortunately, that's not the case, Jonas. A sexual relationship between superior and subordinate, no matter what the circumstances, results in automatic transferral. We'd lose her."
"Oh. Well... that's not good."
"No. It's not good. There will be no sample taking. No mention of the water at all."
Obviously conflicted, Jonas's brow furrowed. "I suppose... technically... I didn't really see you do anything beyond the, um, kissing. Even then," he got into it, "it was very dark, and there was a lot of smoke and... stuff..."
Slowly, Jack nodded, grateful that the man was seeing it his way. "Exactly. So you didn't see anything."
"No. I suppose I didn't." He reached up and scratched the back of his head. "Anything else, Colonel?"
"No, nothing else. Are you packed?"
"Yeah, my stuff's waiting in the courtyard with Teal'c. We were wondering where you were, since you asked us to come down and then didn't show yourself. But, obviously, we didn't realise..."
Guess he must have sat there thinking about her longer than he thought he had. Really, he ought to be used to that by now.
Jack stood up, muscles in his body twinging - oh that was going to be a nice reminder throughout the day. "Carter there yet?"
Jonas shook his head, reached down and grabbed Jack's pack, handed it to him, then picked up his weapon. "Not yet. It's just that you, at least, are always so punctual."
"Compared to you scientists, I suppose I am." Jack clipped on his pack, adjusted it slightly over a sore patch on his back that he hadn't noticed the day before (he suspected he had her fingernail marks down his back), then accepted the P-90. He felt surprisingly less emotionally vulnerable with the gun in his arms.
He nodded for Jonas to get the door. "Okay. Let's do this."
*
*
*
One Month Later
Shivering, Sam stood by the DHD and waited for the rest of the team to reach them. Jonas had the GDO device on this occasion and he was, typically, last. There was no point in activating the gate until he was with her. She shivered again and watched as lightening forked in the distance. Milliseconds later, thunder rippled above her, echoing across the sodden landscape. The clouds were so dark it was practically night-time in the middle of the day - Sam hadn't seen anything like it before, which was saying a lot.
The Colonel came to stand by her, face resolutely staring forward as rainwater pelted his face and rolled down his cheeks and chin like tears. Actually, at some point on the final stretch back to the Stargate, Sam had indulged herself in a small, quiet crying jag, safe in the knowledge that no one could see her. It had seemed somewhat decadent to allow herself to weep in the company of her comrades, walking three steps ahead of the man she was crying for, and she was feeling fairly cleansed because of it.
That said, looking at him now, she couldn't say she was cleansed entirely. Random fits of tears had been her mode of dealing over the past month, and it didn't appear to be letting off. Usually when she grieved for something, she did so safe in the knowledge that the person or thing she was grieving over wasn't going to be around. This was not the case here. She saw him every day, sometimes unavoidably, sometimes accidentally, and each time it rubbed in what she had lost.
At no time in the past four weeks since he had left her room on that damned alien world had he indicated by word or deed that he recalled at all what they had done together.
Jonas had. The man whom she'd come see as a genuinely nice person, perhaps a touch naive in some ways, had been extremely careful around her recently. She imagined the Colonel had got to him, had told him what had gone on and had ordered him not to give the details over in his report. Which was why Jonas kept smiling at her in that certain way, almost as if he knew what she was going through.
Teal'c, like the Colonel, acted as though nothing had happened, though he must have got at least part of the show the moment the drug had kicked in and made Sam and the Colonel irresistible to each other. However, Teal'c viewed emotional matters as something to be left out of combat, an attitude that the Colonel no doubt agreed with. And one she felt she used to agree with also, but that had been before she'd met him.
"Sorry, sorry," Jonas chorused, coming forward and nodding at Sam, his short hair plastered to his head, even under his waterproof. Sam was having the same problem. It was all very well wearing the protective clothing but nothing was truly rain-proof. There was a stream of water running straight between her breasts as she stood there, but there was little she could do about it. Little she wanted to do about it, truth be told.
She smiled vaguely at him - it was all she could manage considering how exhausted she was - and started dialling up Earth, her fingers depressing the huge symbols as she had done time and time again.
Another fork of lightening shot down in her peripheral vision.
"Close," the Colonel said quietly.
Sam didn't bother to respond, just continued dialling and nodded at Jonas when it was time for him to activate the GDO. Cheerfully, he did so, the rain not seeming to bother him in the least. Then he bounded up to the gate, Teal'c following him sedately.
Colonel O'Neill looked over at Sam, and her heart leapt hope. But he didn't say anything, merely looked at her and then turned on his heel. She forced her feet forward, squelching in the dirt. Behind her, lightening forked and moments before she stepped into the Stargate, she paused and turned to watch the miserable, albeit spectacularly so, landscape. Realising she was delaying the inevitable, Sam about faced and pushed through the event horizon.
The difference in sound was the first to hit. Inside the embarkation room, machines whirred, people clattered, weapons cocked. The ramp bounced under her feet as she followed Colonel O'Neill down to the bottom where Hammond was waiting.
"Colonel?"
"I'd say 'boring as hell' but since we've all technically visited Hell, oh, sorry, Jonas, I'll just go with very, very wet, sir."
Hammond nodded, face revealing nothing more than mild amusement. "Infirmary, showers, mission briefing in an hour."
"Yes, sir."
Sam trudged after her team-mates, fairly oblivious to their banter, her mind on getting to the infirmary, getting through the regulation basic check-up, and then getting into a hot shower and staying there for as long as possible.
A wave of exhaustion hit her and she slowed to a halt.
"Carter?"
She looked up, saw that the three men were standing in the elevator, looking at her curiously. "Sorry," she murmured, forcing her feet forward the last few steps. "Just really tired."
"Me too, actually," Jonas joined in hurriedly.
The Colonel looked at him ironically. "You wouldn't think it to look at you."
Jonas took it easily. "Well, I do feel tired." And to prove it, he yawned hugely, even stretched his arms up over his head. "I'm really looking forward to going to bed. Do you think the briefing will be long?"
The doors opened as Colonel O'Neill started talking, walking forward, "Shouldn't think so, Jonas. It's not like the planet was very exciting. Carter got her requisite samples. We got our requisite drenching." He risked a smile at her. "At least Carter'll have something to do in downtime."
Sam raised her eyebrows, the very idea of actually come in to work on her day off completely beyond her current comprehension. "If I make it in tomorrow it'll be a miracle."
"God forbid, Major, are you going to take downtime like the rest of us... I was gonna say Earthlings but..." He glanced at Jonas, then at Teal'c, and grinned. Jonas grinned back, Teal'c merely nodded, his usual tight smile in place.
Janet wasn't in the infirmary when they arrived, rather to Sam's disappointment. She could have used a female friend right then. Instead, some nameless new nurse gave her a swift check-up and said she could go. Thank God the mission hadn't been a medical disaster or she'd have been in for the works - blood work, a colourful range of impossibly named injections, and a full physical.
"Night guys!" she yelled as she walked out of the infirmary.
"Night Sam!"
"Goodnight, Major Carter."
"See ya tomorrow, Carter!"
At least he managed that one, Sam thought bitterly, heading straight for the lockers, even if it was in public and after the warm goodbyes of the rest of team. Maybe when she next saw him (and it wasn't going to be tomorrow - there was no way she was coming in until after the weekend) he could manage to string a couple of sentences together. Ask her about the weather, perhaps? God knew all he'd managed to do the last few weeks had been to give her terse orders and occasional demands.
She flipped the sign outside the lockers to women and walked inside to find, not unusually, that it was empty. Rarely did SG teams come back within an hour of each other, so SG-1 mainly got the lockers to themselves. She grabbed her wash bag and towel and swiftly removed her clothes before wrapping the towel about her chest. She picked her favourite shower compartment (the one where the hot water lasted the longest) and let the water run until it was near-scalding. Then she stepped in.
Ah....
.... bliss.
She leaned her forehead against the tile while the hot water restored the warmth to her body. The last month had been hard on her - her virtually non-existent relationship with Colonel O'Neill and her continuing sleepless nights compounded with several rather difficult missions had battered her strength somewhat. She was about ready to drop.
Eventually, Sam realised she couldn't stay under the hot water forever and she set about giving her hair a good wash and then her body an equally vigorous scrub. When the last soap suds had been smoothed away, Sam regretfully switched off the shower and wrapped her soft towel around herself.
Nearly time to go home.
*
*
*
He could smell her. Well, okay, maybe he couldn't smell her, but he could smell the shampoo she used, the shower gel. All too easily, he pictured her in the shower he was now standing in, rubbing foaming gel all over her body. Thankful that the noises of three showers running at the same time would cover his instinctive moan, Jack turned until his forehead was resting against the cool tile.
Unbidden, more images popped up behind his closed eyelids and one by one they cruelly succeeded in making his body react in a way that meant Jack had no choice but to flip the shower dial to cold. This time his moan was more of a groan as the cold water drowned out his hot blood.
The mission had been horrible - minimally successful from an entirely scientific point of view - and the weather had been relentlessly awful. Still, it hadn't been that bad and even though Jonas had chimed in with his own claim of tiredness, Sam had no real reason to look that exhausted. It was almost as if all the energy had been drained from her body.
Of course, he had a rather accurate idea of what had caused it. Carter didn't naturally repress her feelings. In fact, when those feelings were acceptable, she was very vocal about them. He couldn't help but remember how she had reacted, naturally, after Daniel's 'death'. She'd wanted to talk, he'd shut her out.
Jack dealt in another way. And it seemed that the way they dealt with what had happened on That Planet was different too. The repression of all feelings, thoughts, wants, needs from that night had sapped Carter of all her normal, exuberant energy, whereas, with him, it had bolstered him. He felt constantly the need to move, to get things done, to keep going relentlessly on and on and on. Because if he paused, like he was doing now, if he paused...
The slick, sensual slid of her torso dragging down his body... down... down... his hands reaching out to hold on, hold on as she wrecked havoc...
That was what happened to Jack when he stopped.
When he stopped, he remembered, he thought and he longed.
She was almost a dream now. A month ago, the dream had been real, flesh upon flesh. But by now, Jack's thought, fantasies and memories of the event had taken on almost heavenly proportions. When he remembered now, it was with heightened sensations. He knew what it was - his body had swiftly got used to sexual release and now he was suffering the abrupt withdrawal of said release.
Other methods weren't quite cutting it anymore, he thought dryly.
Hurriedly, Jack slammed out of the shower, already drying himself with his towel as he headed towards his locker. By the time Teal'c, then Jonas came out, Jack was half dressed, pausing only to rake a wide toothed comb through his hair. He shook a hand through the strands afterwards, out of habit, and then turned to put on his T-shirt.
At which point, he noticed that Teal'c and Jonas were having a seriously intense eye conversation.
"Guys?"
Jonas looked at Jack, then at Teal'c, then at Jack. "Ah, Colonel...." He paused. And looked at Teal'c.
"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Jack suggested heavily.
The implication was lost on both aliens, and they regarded him quizzically. Jack couldn't help but think that Daniel would have got it - but these kinds of thoughts got him nowhere.
"O'Neill, we are concerned about Major Carter."
"Oh for... " Yeah, I know. Look, she's claiming she'll be taking time off tomorrow. If she doesn't, I'll know. I'll be here and I'll order her to go home."
"That has not been effective in the past."
He rolled his eyes. "What do you expect me to do?"
"Talk to her," Jonas said, simply.
Jack froze, then, just as quickly, he resumed dressing, doing up the final buttons on his shirtfront. "Briefing in five. See you there." He slammed his locker door closed and left the steamy room.
Three airman got a taste of Jack's bad mood as he made his way to the elevator. One got a dressing down for his uniform, just for the hell of it, and the other two got reprimanded for 'loitering'. Never in Jack's life had he yelled at someone for 'loitering' - and by the looks on their faces, they'd been just as surprised as he had.
Carter was sitting alone in the briefing room, hair still damp and obviously raked back from her forehead with her fingers. She was looking down at her nails, picking at them in fact.
Which, bizarrely, infuriated him.
"If I find you here tomorrow morning, I swear to God I shall have you transferred back to the Pentagon," he snapped the moment he was through the door.
Carter glanced up, bluer then blue eyes wide with disbelief. " Sir?" Her mouth flickered, dimples peeping; she thought he was joking.
For once, the dimples didn't break him. "You will take your downtime, Major, is that understood? Or there will be severe consequences." Jack threw himself into the chair opposite her and glared across the table.
"Sir, I was going to anyway..."
"Are you talking back to me, Major?"
Subtly, Carter's body shifted. Her spine straightened, her eyes narrowed, her cheeks sharpened. "Sir, no, sir," she snapped, hands crossing on the table.
If anything, this just served to piss him off further, and the control that Jack had been holding onto with his fingernails slipped from his grasp. He leaned forward and managed to hiss, "I'm not having you walking around like a fucking zombie anymore, Major. You're gonna pull yourself together. Monday morning you better be back to your normal self or Hammond will hear of it."
For a moment, Carter's mouth gaped, then she too leaned across the table and with masochistic delight, Jack waited for whatever wounding thing she was about to say. Fortunately for Jack, he never got to hear it. Hammond walked smartly into the room and severed whatever tension there was effectively by smiling broadly at them both. "Showers did you good, I imagine. You're both looking decidedly warmer."
"Yes, sir." Jack sat back in his chair and glanced down at his lap. He noticed his hands were shaking and he dug his nails into his thighs.
He didn't look at her once throughout the briefing.
*
*
*
Sam woke with a fuzzy brain. Frowning into her pillow, her hand sought for her clock and she dragged it down to eye level. Half past eleven?
She sat up, quickly, and consequently her vision swam, then blackened. When she finally managed to focus, a swift glance at the curtains proved, to her horror, that she'd managed to sleep through an entire day. Friday night, Saturday morning, Saturday afternoon, Saturday evening.
"Good God," she whispered, uncurling her legs and sliding them out of bed. Well, if this wasn't going to completely screw up her body clock, she didn't know what would.
Her stomach, reassuringly, rumbled and she dragged her warm and limber body towards her kitchen where she considered her choices. Sam was a self-admitted lousy cook which meant her kitchen was filled with ready meals or quick fixes. What did one eat after sleeping all day anyway? she wondered, scratching her midriff absently.
Friday night, she knew, she'd eaten an entire box of chocolates, drank a carton of milk and washed it all down with a packet of cookies and a second carton of milk. Lovesick food, and Sam Carter was resigned to her fate of being permanently lovesick. She'd watched an entire stack of 'chick flicks', cried through most of them, and depleted her stock of tissues, leaving her no choice but to start on the toilet paper. Which, as she glanced in the small decorative mirror she had on the wall of the kitchen, would explain the state of her nose.
Resolutely, Sam ordered herself not to cry over her CO again.
Then she went against her own order as her eyes filled with tears.
"This sucks," she said disgustedly, reaching for the chocolate milk. She decided a chunk of cheese would go down really good at that moment too so she grabbed a packet and carried her snack to the breakfast bar, grabbing a knife from the drawer on the way.
Feeling decidedly naughty, she drank from the carton - hey, it wasn't like anyone else was going to drink it, was it? - and sliced off a piece of cheese every so often. Cheese and chocolate milk was surprisingly tasty together, actually, though she could have sworn it should have tasted revolting.
Not concerned, overly, Sam slipped off the stool and went to sit amongst the used tissues that littered her couch in the living room. She flicked on the TV, found some old movie that satisfied her current brain fuzz and slumped back in the cushions. Occasionally, she managed a weak laugh but as the movie wore on her sense of humour faded further. The credits rolled and Sam was slumped on her side, carton of milk on the floor, cheese a bad taste in her mouth. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, saw nothing she liked, and flicked off the TV.
The silence in her house was depressing.
She tapped her fingers on her stomach and considered her options. Early morning TV versus going back to bed to see if she could sleep until a more reasonable hour. The prospect of sleeping made her feel faintly sick, but TV offered her no entertainment value either.
The only vaguely appealing idea was going in to work, but the image of Colonel O'Neill's face over the briefing room table was certainly not an incentive.
Then again - it wasn't as if he'd be around at that time in the morning. If he had been on base, he would have gone home long ago.
Sam sat up, grinned triumphantly, and ran into her bedroom to get changed.
The familiarity of the base was a welcome. She smiled at the odd airman in the corridor, then practically kissed the microscope in her lab. Dropping her files and papers onto the bench, she sighed happily as she opened her laptop and it started booting up. Now this, this was perfect. She could work until Janet came in, pop over to see her and have a chat. Maybe a cup of coffee. Then back to work again. Nothing too strenuous, just something to take her mind off things. Okay, one thing.
This was way better than lounging around at home and eating poorly.
At about half past four, the klaxons started blaring, the warning lights flashed. In time to the PA system, Sam mouthed, "Unauthorised off-world activation". Then she jumped off her stool and headed down the corridors, mindful of the marines running past her.
Walking into the control room, Sam was just in time to see an SG team limping down the ramp. She walked up to the glass screen and looked down at them. "Hey, Siler, which team is that?"
"SG-10, Major. They're six hours overdue."
Hence Hammond's concerned, parental presence down in the gate room, Sam thought to herself. Her private belief that Hammond was in fact superhuman was once again confirmed - he just didn't sleep. Maybe there was a bed in his office she'd just not seen before that he pulled out on the occasions he wanted to grab a ten minute nap.
"Carter."
Sam's shoulders hunched, then she went against every instinct she had and slowly turned around. Colonel O'Neill stood behind her, in uniform, hands in his pockets and head tilted curiously to one side. "Sir. Good morning."
He smiled. Dangerously. "What are you doing here?"
"Working. Sir." Surely he wouldn't bawl her out in front of all these people? she thought, nervously, suddenly not very sure of him.
"Didn't I expressly order you to go home?"
"I did go home. I slept all through yesterday. My body clock's completely screwed. Why am I making excuses for coming into work?" she demanded, more to herself than him.
The technicians in the control room had long since stopped talking, all eyes were turned to the unusually antagonist duo who were having a face off in public.
"Colonel, Major, is there a problem?" Hammond demanded as he walked back into the control room.
"No, sir," Sam said, knowing the Colonel would do the same.
"Yes, actually, sir, there is."
She stared at him. "What?" What was he doing?
Hammond looked equally surprised. "Colonel, explain."
"Major Carter has gone against my express orders once again to take her downtime..."
"That's not true!"
"Hey! Did I say you could speak?"
Sam's mouth dropped open. "Oh my God, what the hell are you doing?"
"Major Carter, you will be given the opportunity to defend yourself after Colonel O'Neill has said what he has to say," Hammond interrupted, holding a calming hand out to Sam. "Colonel?"
"She's working herself into the ground, General. I'm not sure I can count on her in the field."
Sam heard, rather than saw, Siler gasp. Which was pretty much how Sam was feeling. Now he couldn't count on her off-world? What was going on here? Okay, so she knew what was going on here - in fact, after consideration she hadn't been furious with him on Friday afternoon when he'd reprimanded her over the table because he'd been right. She was tired and it was unprofessional. Sometimes the Colonel tended to show his caring through anger, anger than she wasn't looking after herself properly.
So she could forgive him for that. She could forgive him for many things.
But this? Airing their problems in front of Hammond?
That was just plain cruel.
"Major Carter?"
Sam took a moment to calm herself down, still staring intently at her commanding officer like he'd suddenly become an alien. Possible, but not actually likely in this case. "Colonel O'Neill forcefully suggested that I take the weekend off on Friday night. Since I previously decided I would be, it was unnecessary of him to do so. However, I went home and managed to sleep Friday through to Saturday night. As I was unable to get back to sleep, and there's very little to do in the early hours of the morning, I thought I'd come into work. You can check the sign-in sheet - I only got in an hour ago."
"Fine. Major, I suggest you go back to whatever you were doing until it is a more reasonable hour in the morning. Then, take yourself off to Dr Fraiser for a full physical."
Sam nodded, sucking in her cheeks.
"And Colonel? I'd like to see you in my office."
At last, he winced and looked down at the ground, his face scrunched up. "Yes, sir."
She hoped Hammond demoted him.
Hell, she hoped he shot him.
*
*
*
"What the Hell was that all about, Jack?"
Even though he hadn't been offered a seat, Jack dropped down onto a chair and lowered his head to his hands. Jesus Christ, what had he just done? Had he lost it entirely? All yesterday he'd worked on calming himself down, steadily building up a wall. He'd listened to classical music, gone swimming, done all the usual tricks that relaxed him, short of going up to the cabin and zoning with the lack of fish.
But... just seeing her. Standing there, her hair just slightly ruffled. Then when she'd turned around and he'd felt that sharp punch of lust and love, all he'd been able to see was her lying underneath him, that one expression on her face.
Lost it.
He'd lost it.
"Jack? I asked you a question."
He came up with something suitable scathing, just in time too. The General was surely pulling out all the big guns by calling him 'Jack': "Well, I'm trying to think of something to say that won't get me fired." He drew his hands up his face and down, stretching the skin and trying to shake some semblance of order into his head.
"Is the shit hitting the fan, Jack? Is that what this is?"
Jack laughed, horribly. The General wasn't a fool, never had been. He'd probably been waiting for this day to come for two years. "I think it is, yes. Big time. Oh my God, she's never going to speak to me again."
"I'd like to say otherwise, but unfortunately I can't speak for Major Carter. Though, obviously, it's not Major Carter you're having a problem with. It looks like Jack and Sam are having the problem."
He fumbled for the words, the right ones, the wrong ones, and came up with nothing. Instead, he spread his hands to the side and pleaded with his eyes. "George, can I speak to you off-record?"
Hammond paused. "Is what you're about to say a serious regulation offence?"
"Yes, and no." He looked at his commanding officer seriously. Hammond was a man he had so much respect for it was verging on awe. He was probably the first CO he'd ever had who completely understood him, knew how far to let the reigns go, knew when to tug him back into line. Knew his limits. Knew his weaknesses. And the big weakness that Jack dealt with every single day: Samantha Carter.
Cautiously, Hammond took in his surroundings, finally looking down at the folder on his desk with the SGC label emblazoned across it. "I don't think I can do that here, Jack, no matter how much I want to. It goes against everything I believe in."
"Great."
"As your commanding officer, I suggest you seriously consider your options."
Options. Ah, yes. Jack's options. The forks in the road he could take. "I could retire."
Hammond blanched. "Is it that bad?"
There was no doubt in Jack's mind. "Yes."
"Jack, I'd hate to lose you."
"You know my time is coming."
He smiled slightly, but his eyes remained serious. "I had hoped... one day, you would replace me."
Jack sat bolt upright. "What?"
General Hammond seemed to be amused. He finally sat down in his chair and clasped his hands together. "At some stage, Jack, you will no longer be fit to go off-world, but I imagine it would be difficult for you to just step away from the programme."
"I could do it." With the right incentive.
"I've no doubt of that, son, but there are other reasons... reasons we are both aware of for your continuing involvement in the Stargate programme."
"If you're talking about Carter, there's no way in hell she'd want me after that stunt I just pulled in there." He thumbed the general direction of the control room, shaking his head as he did so.
"The longer you leave it, I imagine the closer you get to that fact, Jack." He raised his eyebrows and nodded to the door. "I give you permission, Colonel, to go and apologise to your second in command."
"General..."
"Jack, get your ass down to her lab this instant!"
He jumped out of his chair. Orders. Yes. He could follow orders. "Yessir."
*
*
*
Jack refused to think as he walked towards the elevators. He refused to think of her face. He refused to think of her body. He refused to think of how he felt. If he started thinking, then he'd start panicking. Then he'd run.
As it was, he started jogging the moment the doors opened on her floor. Her lab door was closed, and he tried the lock. It gave, but all he saw when he shoved open the door were blinking lights and abandoned projects. Her quarters. She would have to be in her quarters.
He headed back to the elevators.
The door to her quarters was locked. He knocked. No response.
Desperately, knowing she wouldn't open the door to him no matter what he said, he looked both ways down the corridor. Right down the end, he could see Simmons, chatting to a nurse. Not caring what Simmons was up to, Jack grabbed him and pulled him towards the door of Carter's quarters.
"Tell her it's just you. That you want to speak to her about something," he hissed.
Simmons looked at him in confusion. "Sir, I -''
"Do it."
Simmons licked his lips, raised his fist and knocked on the door. "Major Carter?"
There was a pause. "Yeah?"
"Major, can I speak to you for a moment?"
"What about, Lieutenant?"
"Ugh...." He looked at Jack for inspiration. "There's a problem in the control room, ma'am. I'm not exactly sure what it is. Siler sent me down."
"The phone not working any more, Simmons?"
"Er... yes, ma'am. That's part of the problem."
Jack nodded in approval, then heard Carter's deep sigh and suddenly threw himself to the wall on the side of the door handle. Element of surprise and all.
Moments later, the handle turned and the door was pulled open. "Do you have any idea.... hey!"
Jack had to give her credit. She fought valiantly against him the moment he threw himself into the picture, landing several punches as he battled her back through into her quarters and kicked the door closed behind him. She swore like a trooper, too, and when she realised the level three advanced hand to hand wasn't working to her advantage - he was blocking and shielding like nobody's business - she got in several surprisingly effective women's prerogatives, namely gouging several fingernail marks down the sides of his face that brought tears to his eyes.
There were already tears in her eyes, and running down her face.
He wrestled her down onto the ground, eventually trapping her arms and legs under him. The moment she realised he'd won, her body went limp under his, her head dropping back onto the floor with a thump. Her eyes closed.
Jack let out a breath and lowered his head to her forehead. For the moment, they lay quietly, panting. His hands were clasped around hers, her arms crushed between their torsos. He'd dealt with her legs by trapping them between his own, clenching his thighs tightly around her and hooking his ankles about hers. "Can you breath?" he demanded, breathlessly.
"Get off me."
He decided her words weren't strangled enough for him to be crushing her. She'd tell him if it go critical and, for the moment, this was the only way he knew of that he could get her to talk to him. "Baby, I'm sorry," he began.
"Don't," she hissed, fury spitting at him.
"I know I'm a jerk. I know, I know. But you know why I did it. You gotta know."
"I hate you."
That hurt - but he was hoping it more bile than truth. "Sam, we can't do this. I can't do this. I'm not a machine. I can't... step back. Not again. I can't," he reiterated.
This seemed to get her attention. She opened her eyes and looked into his. "You were the one who walked away."
He nodded, his hands finally letting go of hers. She didn't start to struggle, she just pulled her hands away and let them drop to her sides. This had the added effect of bringing him closer to her, drawing their faces together. He wanted to kiss her so badly his mouth was dry from the effort of not doing it. "I had to. You know I had to. We weren't going to get away with it. If it went on report, Hammond would have you transferred. And if I stayed...."
"If you stayed, we still could have lied on report," she whispered angrily. " And there would have been none of this... this... pain."
" If I'd stayed, I couldn't have left. I can't... we left it in the room and it was okay. It wasn't great, okay, it was horrible, but it was okay. I could do my job. You could do yours. We were fine."
She was already shaking her head. " I wasn't fine."
Neither had he been. " But we were working. It was working. This, oh man, Carter, this changed things big time. I know you now."
Her fair skin shaded a faint pink colour.
Jack smiled. " Do you see what I mean? If I left, like I did, there was a chance... a small, slight chance, that things could have..."
" There was no chance. How could you think there'd be a chance?"
" Don't tell me you didn't think it was for the best either? You didn't say anything. You didn't call out. You didn't stop me, Sam."
Her face crumpled, her hands coming up and covering her eyes, palms on either side of her nose. " Oh God."
She started crying. Jack didn't think he'd ever seen her cry like this before, and he hated it. Women crying brought him down to his knees - Sara had nearly slayed him with her tears, and, let's face it, there had been a lot of them. The same appalled, horrified, guilty feeling rushed through Jack as he watched her fall apart, sobbing behind her hands.
Desperate to see her face, to look into her eyes and assure her he was gonna fix everything, he started tugging at her hands. When he finally got them away, he could see the blues of her eyes had blackened, the tears were running freely. Her nose was running. He scuttled backwards, pulling her with him and she came easily into his arms, crying into his shoulder. "Baby, it's gonna be okay. I promise, I'll make things better. I promise."
"It's not supposed to hurt like this."
He shook his head at her wet voice, knowing instinctively what she was talking about. "No. But then you're not supposed to strangle the heck outta it, either."
She laughed into his neck, her wet eyelashes stroking his skin as she blinked. "Strangle the heck outta it. I like that." She brushed her mouth against his neck, pulled her head back slightly and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. For the first time in a month, Sam looked at him like the old Sam had done.
Tenderly, he reached up and wiped at her tear stains with his own sleeve. "So... this is new for us," he joked weakly.
Sam took a moment, looked around, then down at how she was sitting on his lap. "Is this uncomfortable?"
"I'm trying not to think below my waist at the moment."
She giggled, actually giggled. It had been years since she'd done that. "I'd make a crack about sidearms, but it would probably make you groan."
He did groan anyway. "What have I told you about making jokes?"
"Does it run in the same vein with giggling... let's not do this now," she said hurriedly, shaking her head. "No jokes, Jack. Not yet."
"Okay. I can do that. Hammond knows."
"WHAT!"
"No, not everything. He knows... something happened. He started talking about options. Crap. I'm thinking about retiring. Again," he added.
She looked horrified, and wrapped her arms about his neck, as if to hold him there. "No."
"Sam, we don't have a great number of options here."
"You can't retire. I won't let you. Don't go."
He ran his hands up her back, and then down before crossing them around her back and hugging her close. "I'm not leaving you."
"You're leaving for me. I don't want us to begin with you sacrificing things for me. I can transfer."
"Off of SG-1? Are you kidding me?"
"Why?"
"We're the flagship team. You're the flagship scientist. You can't leave."
"Daniel did."
As always, bringing Daniel into the conversation stopped him dead. She was looking at him stubbornly now, her eyes all wide and knowing, even red from her tears.
Jack started shaking his head. "Sam, this is different..."
"No, it's not. SG-1 isn't what it used to be. Daniel broke up our family. Maybe it's time..." She stalled. "Maybe it's time we all went our separate ways."
"What are you saying?"
"Teal'c needs to be with his son, Bra'tac needs his help with the rebel Jaffa. You need to take me fishing, work on your diplomacy skills because God knows there are some bizarre aliens out there who will only deal with you. I need to get some damn work done - I have a backlog of projects I have to work on. Things that would make gate travel more efficient, safe, productive. Jonas needs to... be with people who don't look at him knowing their best friend died for his people."
God help him but she was starting to make sense. He kept shaking his head to disagree with what she was saying, but inside he was agreeing with her.
"But... we're SG-1."
"Yeah. And we'll always be. But we're Jack and Sam, too." She smiled and it was just a touch seductive.
"I need to think about this."
"I know."
"I mean, I really need to think about this."
"Yeah, I got that."
"I really, really..."
"Jack!"
He blew out a breath. "This is big."
She patted him on the shoulder understandingly, then kissed him on the cheek. "Okay. You think. I'm going to the infirmary."
"Huh? Why?" Jack struggled to keep a hold on her but she was surprisingly slippery. Actually, he'd already known that. Damn! Thinking below the waist, Jack. Not good. Not on base.
"Well, the General did order me to have a full physical. Hopefully, after this nice little chat I'll be able to get some normal sleep."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm hoping you're accounting for all the weird stuff I've been eating recently."
Lazily, he sat on the floor, watching her sort out of her uniform and do her hair. "Weird stuff?" he said vaguely.
"Yeah. Chocolate milk and cheese. And anchovies," she added, a small frown marring her brow.
Jack's brain connected. "Anchovies?"
"I suddenly really wanted anchovies on my pizza last week."
"You hate anchovies."
"I know! Weird, huh?" She pulled open the door. "And the week before last, it was as if I couldn't drink enough apple juice." She shook her head slightly at her own oddness, grinned at him, that full burst that always knocked him sideways. "I suppose I'm allowed to stay on base, then, Colonel?"
He waved a hand at her vaguely. "Smartass. Go see the Doc."
Five minutes later, Jack was still sitting on the floor of her quarters. The door was wide open, but he wasn't overly bothered. His knees were aching, just a little, but it wasn't the knee injury. Ba'al's little torture fun had got rid of that. No, Jack's knees were aching because he wasn't twenty-five any more.
Carter was making sense. No, Sam was making sense. She was really, really making sense.
Not the stuff about her craving weird-ass foods, though. He knew for a fact that she loathed anchovies. She could smell them on a pizza before you'd even opened the box and would be halfway across the room freaking out. The idea of her actually wanting to eat them just defied...
Jack's head jerked up suddenly.
Oh my God.
*
*
*
Sam had been delayed by an apologetic Lieutenant Simmons almost the moment she'd left her quarters. She'd quite forgotten his involvement in the Colonel's plot, and would have gone on forgetting if Simmons hadn't left out at her and started apologising profusely.
After letting him rabbit on for a good couple of minutes she finally pointed out that it was all right, she was fine, the Colonel was very wrong in using Simmons for evil, yadda yadda yadda. Finally, the young man let her go and she made her way towards the elevators, resisting the urge to skip. That would just be ridiculous. She beamed at a couple of airmen and they looked a little startled, so she quickly toned down her grin. Didn't want to scare people, after all.
She was just typing in level twenty-one when someone called out for her to hold the elevator doors. She peered out and raised her eyebrows at him. "Missed me already?" she asked as he jumped through the doors.
He waited until the doors had closed before he grabbed her, sliding his arms around her. She was surprised, but delighted. "Uh-huh."
"Where are you going, anyway?"
"Infirmary. With you," Jack added, looking down into her eyes.
He really was in a very good mood now, Sam thought in wonder. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look this happy, which was kind of nice. Okay, it was very nice. Wonderful, in fact. "Oh? Why?"
"When was the last time you had blood work done?"
"Not since P4S 288 - after the pollen incident... now tell me why you're coming with me to the infirmary?"
The corners of his eyes crinkled still further. "I've, um, got a suggestion for the Doc."
"What about?"
"Just a little test I want her to run on you," he said casually, his fingers coming up to her hair and toying with it. "Have I told you how much I love your hair?"
She ignored that for the blatant attempt to change the subject that it was. "What kind of a test? And since when do you have any idea about medical matters?"
He dipped his head and swiftly kissed her nose. "It's just a test, nothing to worry about. And... anchovies, hey? Any other weird shit you've been eating?"
She wrinkled her nose. Oh, she could so get used to this kissing thing. "The chocolate and cheese thing was pretty freaky. And the episode with the burgers at two in the morning last Thursday. Kissing me is not going to distract me," she told him, moments before his mouth covered hers.
Oh, it so did.