1900 hours
Cheyenne Mountain Complex
“Carter! Hey, Carter!”
Sam stopped ten feet short of the final checkpoint leading out of Cheyenne Mountain, and turned back to see her CO, Jack O’Neill, jogging towards her. She tried not to focus on how damn good he looked in his black leather jacket and faded jeans.
“Did you need something, sir?”
“Nah,” he said, slowing his jog when he reached her. “Just thought I’d… you know… walk you out… or something.”
Sam smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
They both signed out with the airman posted at the entrance and stepped out into the cool evening air. With autumn’s onset, darkness fell earlier and earlier, making Sam long for days of sunshine. Sometimes, she felt like she went to work in the middle of the night and went home in the middle of the night. Either that, or she had moved to Anchorage and was trapped in six months of darkness.
She hitched her duffle bag up on her shoulder and fished in her pocket for her car keys.
“Big bag. Going somewhere?”
“Just a weekend trip to Denver. I didn’t want to leave everything in my trunk all day,” she answered, her thoughts straying to the reason for the trip. And how her plans were different than she originally anticipated.
“Anything fun?”
Jack slipped his hand beneath the strap of the duffle and lifted it off her shoulder, transferring it to his own. Sam was grateful for the relief. The large bruise on her shoulder blade, a result of a hard fall on P37-222, had throbbed beneath the weight. They walked side-by-side down the rows of assorted cars, trucks and SUV’s to the far end of the lot.
“No. Well – yes, I suppose. It could be.”
Jack’s eyebrows arched, silently asking the question: *care to explain?* Sam chuckled softly at her own indecisiveness. “I’m going to a wedding. A good friend of mine from MIT is getting married.”
“Oh. That’s… nice,” he said, his tone making it clear he didn’t know if it was or not.
They reached her car, and she unlocked the trunk. Jack set the duffle inside beside the black garment bag she had carefully laid out flat that morning. He rested his arm over his head on the open trunk lid. The stance pulled his jacket away from his side, showing off his tone abdomen beneath his tee shirt and the way the frayed waistband of his jeans fit him just right. Sam forced herself to look away, silently reminding herself that such thoughts were dangerous.
Wrong.
Against regulations.
Just… wrong.
“Oh, it is nice. I mean, nice for Erin. I just—“ He watched her expectantly. Sam sighed. “When I RSVP’d, I told her I’d be bringing a guest.”
“Ooohh,” he said. “Paul? No… Pat… Wait… Pete?”
Sam’s cheeks flushed hot, choosing to ignore Jack’s sarcastic ‘forgetting’ of Pete’s name. She hadn’t said anything to Jack since that one day in the elevator when he called her on her humming… and the crazy days following. He didn’t know that a month after Osiris was captured and Sarah was freed, Sam told Pete they had no future. Whether she could do anything about it, or not – admit it, or not – she loved Jack and it just wasn’t fair to Pete to try and deny it.
And how does one bring up to the man she loves that she’s no longer dating another man? It wasn’t exactly an everyday conversation.
“No Pete?”
She realized she hadn’t answered, and drew in a slow breath before looking up into Jack’s face. “No Pete. Not now. Not in awhile.”
Sam saw the shift in his expression, the slight parting of his lips, and wondered the true meaning of it. Was it relief? Was he glad? Or did it just make things complicated all over again? Jack pushed down on the trunk lid, closing it with a loud thunk. He kept his hand on the back of her car, leaning into it.
“So, now you don’t have a date,” he stated.
“Right. And I’ll have to give some excuse—“
“I’ll be at your place in forty-five minutes.” He cut her words short.
“W-what?”
“Better yet, just follow me home. And we’ll go from there.”
“Sir?”
Jack grinned, slow and sexy and tempting. “Can’t have you go without a date.”
*~*~*~*
Jack shifted his gaze easily back and forth from the road ahead to Sam in the passenger seat. She sucked in a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. He chuckled softly at her shuddered “Oh, God…”
She sat with her back in the corner created by the seat and the door, her knees drawn up to her chest. Jack wished he could see her face better, willing to bet her cheeks were flushed and her lips spread in a wide smile. Sam took a couple more minutes to control her breathing before she spoke.
“What did your CO do when he found out?”
Jack grinned. “He said he was glad the Lieutenant and I were able to work our personal issues out between us.”
Sam’s laughter filled the car again, and Jack found it infectious. She straightened one knee and tapped his hip with the toe of her shoe – a playful nudge that did more than just make him smile.
“Sir, I am amazed sometimes at how you ever made Colonel.”
He tried to sound shocked. “Excuse me?”
“I have never met anyone who can be as good a leader as you, and still have such a blatant disregard for authority.”
He heard the teasing in her voice, but liked the earnest tone that lay beneath. “Yeah, well…” was the only explanation he gave.
Comfortable silence settled in the car after that. The sound of motion with the slight strains of music on the radio, so low only the melody could be heard. Sam drew in a long, deep breath – letting it out slowly.
“What was that sigh for?”
“Nothing, sir. Just… relaxing.”
“I think we can drop the ‘sir’ for the weekend, Carter. I doubt there will be many women at this thing calling their dates ‘sir’.”
“Oh, and I’m sure that most men will refer to their companions by their last name or rank?” A subtle laugh laced her words. “Then again… these are friends from the Academy.”
“Point taken. So, what are the plans for the weekend?”
Sam shifted, turning to face forward again. The close proximity was broken, and Jack found himself missing it. Nothing new there.
“Erin’s parents are hosting a cook-out at their house tomorrow for the whole day. Then the rehearsal tomorrow night followed by dinner. The wedding is Sunday afternoon at 1600. Are you sure you want to do this, Jack?”
He glanced at her, only barely making out the definition of her features in the darkness. “Do what?”
“The whole weekend. Hanging out with people you don’t know… who don’t know you.”
“I’m a great people person.”
Sam laughed softly. He liked it when she laughed, loved it when he was the one making her do it.
“What?” he asked, as deadpan as possible.
“Sorry. Of course… your people skills far surpass any diplomat I have ever met.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“Never!” She paused, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her watching him. “They’re also going to assume things.”
“Assume what?”
“That you and I are together.”
Jack shrugged. “Let them think what they want.” He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “We know the truth.”
She didn’t say anything for several moments, then he heard her small intake of breath. “Yeah. We know the truth.”
*~*~*~*
Sam set her elbow on the hotel’s lobby counter and rested her forehead in her hand. She huffed, closing her eyes for a brief moment.
“Are you absolutely positive you don’t have anything available?” she asked again.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We are completely booked with guests of the wedding, and when you made your reservation you stated only one room.”
She groaned and tapped her fingertips on the polished wood. “Yes, but –“ She stopped and shook her head. This man didn’t care that she had thought she’d be sharing a room with one man, and came with another.
The ironic thing was that the man she *planned* on sharing the room with … she had no interest in. And the man she was *now* sharing a room – well, sharing a room with him was the stuff her fantasies were made of. Dangerous. Way too dangerous.
“Are we all set, Sam?”
Jack’s deep voice came from behind her. A shiver ran up her spine, a warm and pleasant shiver. She stood straighter and looked up at him. “Well, just one problem s-Jack.”
“No rooms at the inn?” He looked between her and the desk clerk.
“Rooms? No. Room… yes.”
His dark gaze turned to her, and his lips parted before he spoke. “Oh,” he said softly with a jump of one eyebrow.
“I’m really very sorry, sir,” the clerk said. “But we are completely booked with other wedding guests.”
Sam stared up at him, waiting to see what he would say… what he would do. One corner of his lips tipped up in a slow, subtle grin. Her body warmed, and she had to look away.
“Not a problem,” Jack said and took the keycard from the desk. “Room 312B? Got it.”
She could only watch as he picked up their luggage, somehow managing to effortlessly carry two duffels and 2 garment bags to the elevator. Sam finally shook off her shock and raced after him. The elevator door opened as she reached him, and she followed him into the empty car.
He still had the small smirk on his face.
“You don’t see the problem with this?”
Jack glanced down at her, adjusting the garment bags that were hooked on his fingers and hung down his back. “There’s only a problem if we make it a problem.”
*Oh, yeah… problem… big BIG problem…HUGE problem…*
“Carter, we’ve slept beside each other *how* many times in the last seven years? We’ve shared tighter quarters than a hotel room.”
She still hadn’t found the ability to speak. His slow grin tipped higher and he leaned towards her, just enough to charge the air in the small space. “What’s the matter, Sam? Don’t think you can control yourself?”
Sam squinted her eyes and did her best to scowl at him, crossing her arms over her body. “You wish.”
He wagged his eyebrows and smirked as the elevator doors opened again.
*~*~*~*
Jack O’Neill was always the big talker. Yeah, well, his big talk had landed him in hot water more than once in his military career. Now, he found himself chin deep in hot water… and it was rising fast.
“I’m going to …” Sam trailed off, pointing in the direction of the open bathroom door.
He nodded, letting the straps of the duffels slide off his shoulders as they landed on the bed.
The only bed.
The big, ole King Size bed.
Trying to ignore the obvious implications of sharing a hotel room with Samantha Carter, he busied himself with hanging their garment bags in the closet and flipping through the television guide left on the bedside table. He heard a click as she opened the bathroom doom, sensed her come into the room.
Jack turned, pushing his hands into his pockets. “So, nothing going on tonight,” he stated.
“No. Do you want to …” Her gaze darted to the bed, then quickly back to him. “Do you want to go eat?”
“I could eat.”
Sam smiled and shook her head. Jack bowed slightly and swept his arm to the door, allowing her to lead the way. Once out of the ‘room’ again, Jack felt some of the tension ease. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea… volunteering on a whim to come with her. What was he thinking? Hello? And then to act like sharing a hotel room with his 2IC… with Sam… was no big deal. *Great idea, Jack. Just great.*
*~*~*~*
“I don’t think I can eat another bite,” Sam said with a moan, leaning back in her chair. “This food is amazing.”
“Not exactly the Cheyenne Mountain mess.” Jack took a sip from his glass of wine.
Sam looked at him, and realized she couldn’t recall ever seeing him drink wine. Beer. The hard stuff… but never a glass of Merlot. He brought the goblet away from his lips and looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing… I just… “ She shook her head. “Nothing.”
He watched her for several heartbeats. The same slow, easy, heated stare he had placed her under many times in the last few years, as if he saw more when he looked at her than anyone else could see. Her insides heated and liquefied, and she finally forced herself to look away.
“Sure you don’t have more room?”
He picked up the plate of chocolate cake that had been sitting at the corner of the table for the last ten minutes – taunting her. It was three layers high with whipped mousse between each moist layer – frosting a good half-inch thick with rosettes and shaved chocolate on the top. Despite herself, she licked her lips.
“I don’t think I can…”
He knew her weakness, and she knew he knew. That’s why he had asked for the cake at the beginning of the meal, she’d bet her life on it. So that at the end, when she said she couldn’t eat more, he’d have it ready.
*Evil man.*
He took his fork and sliced away a bite, holding it midair in front of his lips, watching her as he opened his mouth and ate the cake. She could only stare. The frosting clung to his lips, and he nodded as he chewed.
“Good cake.”
“Looks more like a religious experience to me,” she said, looking down at the plate.
“Religion has nothing to do with this.”
He cut through the dessert again, balancing a bit piece on the tongs of his fork. Then he set his elbow on the table and held the utensil out to her. She looked from his face, to the cake, and back to him. He raised his brow and nodded once.
“You know you want it.”
*Well, if I can’t have one decadent fantasy, I might as well indulge in the other.*
Sam leaned in hesitantly, holding his gaze, and opened her mouth. Jack gently fed her the cake, and she closed her lips on the fork, letting him slide it free. The creamy frosting and mousse hit her tongue and she closed her eyes, humming in ecstasy.
As she chewed it, she mumbled, opening her eyes to see him watching her. His eyelids were heavy over his dark eyes, and his gaze settled on her mouth.
“What?” he asked.
Sam covered her lips with her fingers, hiding her tongue as she licked her lips. “I said ‘orgasm by chocolate’.”
His gaze shot up to meet hers.
“Samantha Carter? Is that you?”
Sam quickly sat back and pressed a linen napkin to her lips. She looked up to see a familiar face walking towards them through the hotel’s restaurant. A smile hit her lips.
“Jane? Is that you?”
She stood and embraced Jane Bellows, one of her closest friends besides Erin while in college. When she leaned back, she looked down at the woman’s burgeoning waistline and mentally put her at about seven months pregnant.
“My God, Jane. You’re about to bust.”
Jane laughed, putting a hand against her swelling side. “I feel like it, too. Samantha, you look wonderful. It’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” Embarrassment hit her when she realized her lack of manners. She turned back to the table, but jumped when she found Jack standing right behind her. He smiled down at her. “Um, Jane… this is my… um…Colonel…” Suddenly, she had found the ability to speak, and heat rushed her cheeks.
Jack’s hand pressed against the small of her back, and she nearly gasped. He extended his other to Jane. “Colonel Jack O’Neill.”
Jane took his hand, and arched one approving eyebrow as she looked back at Sam. “Erin said you were bringing a guest. None of us imagined one quite so… definitely of the male persuasion. Nice to meet you, Colonel. Or can I just call you Jack?”
“Jack is fine.”
“Have you seen Erin yet?” Jane asked of Sam.
She shook her head, still keenly aware of Jack’s hand on the small of her back. He had touched her like that before… not often… but before, and yet the touch was different when felt through layers of mission uniforms and staff-weapon resistant vests. Sam shook off her wandering thoughts and did her best to focus.
“Um, no. We only just checked in. I just figured I would see her tomorrow.”
“Oh, at the cookout! That’s right.” Jane looked at Jack. “Erin will love meeting you, Jack. She’s been telling Sam for years it was time she found someone. And you’re definitely *someone*.”
Sam’s face was going to burst into flames any second now… she just knew it.
“Well, I’m heading up to my room. Phillip is watching the kids, and that usually spells trouble. It was very nice to meet you, Jack, and we’ll see you both tomorrow at the barbeque.”
Sam embraced Jane one more time before her old friend walked … waddled… towards the foyer. She remembered now that Jane had two children already, with the third obviously on the way. Regretfully, she admitted to herself that she hadn’t kept in as close contact with them over the last ten years as she should have. But the Stargate Program was such a huge part of her life… the simplest thing like making a phone call or sending an email seemed hard to fit in.
She turned to see Jack setting some bills on the table and sliding his wallet into his back pocket. “Oh, Jack… let me…”
“Nope,” was his only answer, giving her no room for argument.
In silent agreement, they left the restaurant and headed for the elevators. As the doors closed, Sam chewed on her lower lip, trying to work up enough guts to speak. She crossed her arms over her body and rocked from the balls of her feet back to her heels, and forward again.
“What…” Jack asked.
Sam jumped, and glanced at him. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, his hand on the stainless steel rail that ran around three sides. Without even trying, he was the sexiest man she had ever seen. She blinked and looked away.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“Jane. She has a tendency to … gush… and pretty much speaks her opinion on whatever she wants.”
“Aaah,” he said with a dismissive wave. “No big shakes.”
The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors opened. Jack had the room key in his hand as they reached their door, and after opening it, stepped aside to let her in. The reality of the situation hit her again in one overwhelming wave. She quickly glanced at the small couch that sat against one wall, and wondered about sleeping there. But it was little more than an extra-wide chair. Nope. The bed was it. She shrugged off her light jacket as Jack shut the bathroom door and zipped open her duffle, wishing she had packet differently. While her sleepwear wasn’t exactly the skimpy lingerie she might have brought if she had gone through with Pete, a worn tee shirt and men’s cotton boxer shorts wasn’t exactly the most modest things either.
Especially when the man was Jack O’Neill.
Jack came out of the bathroom, and she didn’t dare glance up as he brushed past her. “I’ll just change out here,” he said as she headed for the door.
She just nodded and closed herself inside. Sam stalled as long as she could. She changed…folded her clothes… brushed her teeth… her hair… washed her face… and when there was nothing left to do, she opened the door.
And nearly died.
Jack sat at the top of the bed, his back against the headboard. One arm was raised behind his head as a support, while the other rested on his raised knee – holding the television remote. He was dressed in flannel pajama bottoms that looked like they had seen better days… the cotton nubbed and looking comfortably worn… and a white tee shirt. The way the shirt lay across his chest and abdomen, it was easy to see how well years of military training had treated his body.
He looked up and Sam froze, her folded clothes held against her chest. She suddenly felt as good as naked. Jack’s lips parted, as if he meant to say something, but nothing came out. Sam turned away, crouched to set her clothes on top of the duffle he had moved to the floor, and busied herself with the search for some unknown object in the side pockets.
“Do you want to watch TV, or just get some sleep?” he finally asked.
“Sleep is fine,” she said quickly, not daring to trust herself to look at him and talk at the same time.
She couldn’t even look his way as he stood off the bed and pulled back the covers. Sam couldn’t believe they were being so… cavalier… about sharing a bed. Jack was right… they had slept beside each other before. To keep warm. To protect one another. But there were no extenuating circumstances here other than a fully booked hotel.
Sam slipped between the cool sheets and settled down into the pillow, still not daring to look at him. His weight sank into the mattress and she felt the bed shift. Her body was so hot she wanted to toss back the blankets, but needed the cover they allowed.
“Do you want another pillow?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jack stretched out beside her and she felt the heat of his body reach her beneath their shared covers.
*Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!*
He flicked off the light and the room fell into darkness. Sam lay perfectly still, her hands folded together on her stomach, holding her breath.
“Good night, Sam.”
She pressed her eyes closed. “Good night.”
*~*~*~*
Only years of disciplined military training kept Jack from jerking awake and shooting himself free of the bed. Training that taught him to take in his surroundings first… analyze the situation… then act in a manner appropriate.
And right now… lying on his side with Sam Carter’s back against his chest seemed like a hell of a situation. And it only seemed appropriate to let her sleep.
At least… it sounded good to him.
He had been aware of her body heat, and the contact that ran from shoulder to knees, first and foremost. And as his senses came to life, he became aware of more.
The citrus and melon scent of her hair as it brushed his cheek.
The way one of her feet was tucked between his calves and his top leg brushed her hip.
The fact that his arm rested over his waist and the palm of his hand was against her skin beneath her tee shirt.
And he felt each breath she took as her ribcage expanded, pressing against his chest.
Jack pressed his eyes closed and stifled the groan in his chest as she shifted, her bottom pressing into his lap.
*This is not good. No… it’s good… just not … good.*
He could tell by her breathing she was still asleep, and doubted he could slide his arm from beneath her head and move away without waking her. So, being the good CO who always watched out for the health and well-being of the people under his command – and considering that sleep was very important to a soldier’s health… he didn’t wake her.
She stirred again, moving her shoulder to expose the soft column of her throat and leaned back into his chest. Jack pushed up, supporting his weight on his shoulder, to look down into her sleeping face. Her features were soft, calm, peaceful.
Giving in to an urge he knew he would shoot himself for later, Jack leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of her neck, just below her ear.
She hummed…
*Ah, damn…*
Then she rolled over to face him and curled against his chest, the top of her head tucked beneath his chin. His arm was still over her waist, beneath her shirt, and he gave in to the urge to brush his thumb along her skin. Sam snaked her arm over his side and snuggled closer.
He felt the change. Her body tensed, her breathing stopped for just a moment.
He closed his eyes.
She was awake.
Sam pulled back from him, and he felt her gaze on him even with he eyes pressed shut.
“Oh, God…” he heard her softly mumble.
Sam slipped away from him, and he let his arm fall away from her, rolling onto his back as she escaped the bed. He didn’t open his eyes until he heard the bathroom door close. Jack sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees and his head in his hands. Hearing the shower come on, he stood to dress, hoping he could zip his pants by the time she came out.
*~*~*~*
Jack sat on the railing of the back patio, the sun beating against his back, a cold beer in his hand. The smell of hickory barbeque sauce and roasting hamburger filled the air, making his stomach rumble. He’d be glad when the food was ready.
Sam stood several feet away, chatting animatedly to Jane – the woman he had met the night before – and another woman he had figured out was the Bride-To-Be. The sunlight made Sam’s hair shine, and her skin glow. She wore a nice fitting pair of cream colored slacks and a yellow sweater that fit in all the right places. He found himself watching her every move, enjoying the carefree smile on her lips.
“So, you’re the guy that Samantha has been hiding all these years?”
Jack looked sideways at the guy standing near him. “What’s that?”
The guy motioned towards Sam with the hand holding his beer. “Samantha. We’ve all lost touch with her in the last few years… since she was stationed in Colorado Springs. The Cheyenne Mountain complex. We all figured she was her usual workaholic self, but now I’m thinking we may have been wrong.”
Jack lowered one foot and stepped down off the railing. He took another drink of his beer. “Sam is very dedicated to her job.”
“Yeah,” the guy said slowly. “Deep space…something –“
“—telemetry—“
“Yeah. Sounds like a brainiac’s dream. She enrolled in the Air Force right out of high school, gets her doctorate paid for by Uncle Sam, and gets a cushy job in beautiful Colorado looking at constellations through really big telescopes. Sounds pretty safe to me. What’s your field of study?”
In two seconds flat, this guy had already royally pissed him off. When Jack thought about all the times Sam had probably indirectly saved this guy’s ass… he squinted and looked back to her. She lifted her head and glanced at him, their gazes meeting. Sam smiled, and Jack’s anger backed off.
Then her stare shifted from Jack to the idiot beside him. Her smile dropped away, taken over by an expression he couldn’t quite name… not even after seven years of reading her like a book. It flashed across her expression, then disappeared, replaced by a deeply suppressed anger.
*So he wasn’t the only one this guy pissed off.*
Sam excused herself from talking to Jane and Erin and walked towards them, her eyes hard on the other guy. Jack shifted his gaze from Sam to the guy and back to Sam. There was a silent war of wills going on between them, and he was curious as hell about what set them off.
“Samantha…” he said as she approached.
“What the hell do you want, Russ.”
“I’ve just been chatting with Jack here. I think he was just about to tell me how the two of you met.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Jack interjected.
She looked up at him, and he could read the spark in her eyes *That would certainly be a story to tell over beer and ribs.* He chuckled, and was gifted by her smile.
“No, he wasn’t,” Sam added, but she was looking at Jack.
At that moment, Jack didn’t really give a damn what Russ had to say. Sam took the bottle of beer from Jack’s hand, and holding his stare, lifted it to her lips and drank. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d swear he saw seduction in Sam’s eyes. His thoughts flashed back to that morning… holding her… kissing her neck… her curled into his chest.
“No offense to you, Jack, but I don’t think any of us ever pictured Samantha with, well, a guy of your… advanced years.”
Sam shot a heated glance at Russell, but Jack didn’t bother look that way. He was too interested in the way Sam was holding the bottle of beer to her lips, and the way her blue eyes were locked on him. Something was going on behind her eyes, and even though Jack didn’t know what it was, he couldn’t complain about what it was did to her.
“No offense taken, *Russ*. After all, I’m the one that got the girl.”
Sam smiled. Her palm slid across his, grasping his hand before she set her foot on the lower patio rail. Jack understood her moves and helped her hop up onto the top rail… where he had sat minutes before. She pulled him towards her so they faced each other, effectively turning Jack’s back on Russ. It occurred to him that she was possibly using him for Russ’s benefit, but it also occurred to him that he didn’t really care.
Her hands slid up his arms to his shoulders, one palm curling around the back of his neck. Jack moved his hands up her thighs to set them at her waist. His blood hummed in his ears, and he looked into her face.
Her eyes asked the question… *Is this okay?*
Jack answered by stepping into the space between her thighs and wrapping his arms around her body. He moved to kiss her, touching her lips with the tip of his tongue before covering them with his mouth. The kiss was slow and deep and dizzying. Sam’s fingers curled into the short hair on the back of his head, the other grasping his collar. Her hum reverberated against his lips, and he pulled her closer.
“Wooohooooo!” someone shouted. “Go, Samantha!”
Sam giggled, and Jack smiled, effectively ending the kiss. “No giggling,” he whispered.
She shook her head and hugged him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Moments later, when he pulled away, Russ was gone.
