has_2ls | For Sam [TR]

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For Sam [TR]

Island life meant a lot of fishing and sitting around twiddling his thumbs but at least the ITF provided him with something to work toward, even if it was Special Forces reserves or something. Something was better than nothing, after all, and it gave him the motivation to do the intense PT that he hadn't really done since showing up on the island.

PT was easy when you were in the field; running for your life didn't really seem like work so much as...running for your life. Jack tried to keep that in mind while he swam and ran and hiked until his lungs burned and his knees twinged. He'd still run with Sam later but he...he'd been having a hard time sleeping since the night she'd stayed with him and he refused to acknowledge that might be because she wasn't sleeping next to him.

He knew Sam would probably be awake; it was first light now and she had always been an early riser. Still damp from the shower, he brought her coffee just the way she liked it and some fruit from the compound and knocked on her door, hoping he'd catch her before she went to go fiddle with whatever she was fiddling with these days.

"Sam? You up yet?"

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"No big plans," she answered. She'd intended to work at least a little today, but thinking of her dad had put her out of the mood and she felt like putting it aside. "You? Other than napping on my bed?"

"Nope," Jack admitted easily, patting the space next to him. "Wanna snuggle? It'd help me sleep," he added, giving her a goofy grin for her troubles.

"I just had a mug of coffee," she pointed out. "I'm not likely to go to sleep anytime soon. But if you turn over, I'll rub your back and maybe you can sleep."

It dawned on her after she'd said it that it was something very much like that, right here in this very bed, that had started things up on that day they'd been together that they hadn't been themselves. But Sam was definitely herself, and she wasn't intending for it to lead to anything else--and if it did, well, Sam trusted him enough to stop if things got too much for her.

Jack rolled over, dragging his t-shirt up and off on the way and tossed it somewhere over on the side of her bed. He'd find it later, or she'd hang it up, and then he'd be able to get it once he'd left.

"I'm all yours, Sam."

In more ways than one, Jack thought quietly, but he didn't voice it. Inappropriate.

"Just be still." She started with his neck, pressing her thumbs just on either side of his spine and slowly working her way over his shoulders, kneading gently. It was hard not to think of the last time she'd done this, but it didn't feel at all the way that had felt, silly and flirty and outrageously teasing. It was very calm, and it was a different enough mood to keep Sam from thinking too much about the similarities.

"Mmm. You're good at this," Jack said quietly, turning his head slightly on the pillow and cracking one eye so he could look at her. She was beautiful, eyes soft and blue and hair so much longer than he'd ever seen it back home. It was a nice sight to wake up to.

"You really are the best girlfriend I've ever had, you know."

Yeah, he said it. Jack stiffened slightly, wondering what her reaction would be to the dreaded g word.

The movement of Sam's hands only stilled for a second, and then resumed. She was caught a little off-guard by that, not just because he'd said it, but because she hadn't even been using words like boyfriend and girlfriend in her own thoughts. This was partly because they sounded a little ridiculous to describe anyone over forty (even if there wasn't really a better word), but also because... well, she didn't know what they were.

Or, if that's what they were, if it was okay for them to be that, since she was still working on a way to get them all home; and while she hadn't determined if she and Jack were from different points in the same timeline or different points in different universes, the end result would be the same if she worked it out.

But she didn't say any of this. Instead she said lightly, keeping up her attentions to his shoulders, "Is that what I am to you?"

"Well, yeah," Jack said quietly, turning back into the pillows so he didn't have to look at her. It was what she was to him and she hadn't really commented, so he guessed it was okay but...

"It's like I told Daniel. I'm yours and I hope like hell I can call you mine and there's not anybody else. You're my girlfriend, my girl, my lover, my partner...whatever you want to call it. He made fun of me for calling it going steady but I'm too old to do anything else, not where you're concerned."

He sighed, shoulders slumping. If there was a time for the earth to open and swallow him whole, this was it.

The movement of her hands slowed a little, because her thoughts distracted her, but didn't stop altogether. "You said that to Daniel?" Sam was surprised that he'd been so talkative about them, though if he was going to say anything to anyone, obviously it would be Daniel.

Jack winced.

"I didn't know we were supposed to keep it secret."

His tone was apologetic and again, he was wishing for that hole to open up and swallow him whole.

"I didn't say anything about keeping it secret," she replied, and prodded his shoulder a little. Jack sounded like he was apologizing, and she didn't think he needed to feel like he had to do that. "I was just surprised you said that much. You've always seemed kind of a private person to me."

There weren't a lot of areas where she and Jack were alike. He preferred to blow things up when she would rather study them, she hated downtime where he relished it, and most intellectual pursuits that fascinated her bored him to tears, but that had been one of the things they always had in common: they both played personal things very close to the vest.

Then again, he'd been talking to Daniel, so it was still pretty close to the vest.

"I am private," Jack agreed, words mumbled by the pillows. "But that doesn't mean that when I'm happy and I've got a gorgeous woman that I'm not proud to talk about her. I'm not telling our sex life to people, Sam. I'm just...I'm really happy to be with you."

This conversation was getting worse and worse.

"I told Jane we were together too. Sort of. But that's it. Daniel and Jane."

And Jane was the closest thing to a daughter or a niece that Jack had ever had, so he didn't figure that was too out of the ordinary. She was special to him, just like Daniel.

Sam had told... well, no one, except for Daniel, and then only in a vague way. Then again, she'd had almost four times as many years as Jack had had to repress, deny, and ignore their feelings, so it was probably a little easier for him to let go of that than for her. Maybe it said a little about how repressed she was that she couldn't talk about this with anyone without feeling like an idiot.

She needed to lighten up. But that was easier said than done.

"Jack, it's fine," she assured him. "It doesn't need to be a secret. There's no reason for it to be, not here." Her hands went from kneading his shoulders to more of a smoothing, stroking motion up and down the middle of his back, following the lines of muscle and spine. "Just because I don't really talk about us to anyone--well, except Daniel--doesn't mean I'm not happy with the way we are."

Edited 2010-03-12 02:45 (UTC)

"I get worried, you know? It's serious to me," Jack murmured, half to himself.

"It's a serious relationship on my end, Sam. I don't...I don't know what it is for you and it worries me. And I'm not trying to pressure you or anything but you're it for me. I just...I just don't know where you are, you know?"

God, he sounded like a girl.

He must really be tired to be this talky, Sam thought, and she didn't know whether to keep working on his back until he fell asleep or ease up so they could talk...

She dithered over it a few minutes, and then despite her lecture to McKay the other day about him being a chickenshit, she took the complete chickenshit option herself and kept working on Jack's back in the hopes that he'd relax about the whole thing and maybe fall asleep. Miss Perfect Relationship indeed. Because in Sam's mind there was a huge wall of separation between being head over heels in love with him--which she was--and letting herself act on it like she wanted--which she wasn't quite yet. And the reason for that was both last month's craziness and because she was still working on a way to get them home.

The former they'd hashed out, and she hoped he understood, but the latter.... well. She didn't like to bring it up to him anymore, because it was kind of a sore spot, and if there was anything in the world she wanted right now it was not to be on bad terms with him. She liked too much this thing they had going, this kissing-and-cuddling-and-holding hands thing that made her feel sixteen and naïve and not forty-one and kind of jaded.

"It's serious for me, too," she said finally. "It couldn't not be, with you."

Jack rolled over, eyes open and honest and letting his emotions shine through in a way that they just wouldn't when he was more awake than this.

"I wanna have sex again, Sam."

Stupid, O'Neill. Way to ruin it.

"Uh...that didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I meant, uh, if you wanted to, I wouldn't be opposed to it? I mean, we've been dating almost a month now."

When he turned over, her hands ended up resting on his stomach, and they went very still when he said I wanna have sex again. No, she shouldn't really be surprised by that, considering that he'd made it clear these last few weeks even if he hadn't come out and said it as blatantly as he just had, but still... she was surprised.

And she had no idea what to say that wouldn't come out sounding like she didn't want to be with him.

She just sat there for a minute with a hand on his stomach, feeling his breathing, taking in the naked honesty in his expression. "You know I want that too," she said quietly. "But it's not that simple. God, I wish it was."

Sam wished that, just for once, she could take the easy way. She wanted to just wash her hands of her responsibilities to the timeline and to Earth and to the Air Force and just do what she wanted. But she had never been one to take the easy way, ever, and it was too late to walk that shortcut. When it came to her effort to get them home, she had to see it through to the end, whether it was successful or not, and if she was with Jack like that again she would give up on her work completely.

Jack closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Of course not. It was getting hard not to take it personally, really. He'd understood her being upset about the first time; they'd both been under the influence and things had moved too fast for Jack's tastes even, so he couldn't imagine how fast it'd been for Sam.

But now, he thought they'd been making progress. He thought that after a month of dating and getting to know her in a way that wasn't work or the military or anything other than Jack and Sam that it'd be enough. And he'd asked, instead of seducing her or letting things escalate and...well, shit.

He swallowed, jaw tight. What to say? What to say that wouldn't hurt her, but would express just exactly how frustrated he was with the whole situation?

"God, I just wanna be with you, Sam. I love you and I don't...I know you wanna get us home. But I'm selfish and I don't want that to be the only time I get to be with you...because I don't want to go back home and never get that chance. Daniel's told me what happens later and I know you meet someone else. What if in my timeline you marry him and I don't even..."

He opened his eyes and reached up to touch her cheek lightly, trying to find the words that wouldn't hurt.

"I don't want to miss my chance, Sam. I'm absolutely, positively, insanely in love with you and I don't want to go back to the days before I knew what your hair smelled like and how your eyes look when you first wake up and what you look like when you're just about to kiss me...and I don't get that from you. You've got that promise in your timeline and it's enough for you. I don't have anything, sweetheart. I don't have that back home."

What was she supposed to say to that? Sam felt like her heart was melting right out of her chest and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and there was a moment--a lot like those precious few seconds on the Prometheus, years ago, where she'd let herself imagine what it would be like to kiss him--where she let herself imagine what it would be like to just give in to this, to stop making excuses and just let herself make love to him for the rest of the morning, not because some crazy island thing was making them to it, but because they wanted to do it of their own free will just because they wanted to.

But just like on the Prometheus she didn't let that go on for more than a handful of seconds before she cut herself off.

She turned her face into his touch and sighed; she had to remind herself not to kiss his palm. "If I'm with you again," she said quietly, closing her eyes, "I'm not going to be able to finish my work. I already.... don't want to finish it," she admitted. She couldn't believe she was admitting it, but it was true. There was a part of her that was ready to just give it up, the part of her that just wanted to wash her hands of the mess that had been her life and just start over here. With Jack.

"If I go back and Cam doesn't get through the gate, then I'm dead and that's it. Nothing changes. Everything stays screwed up. And I'm... I'm scared of that." She was a seasoned, experienced officer and she shouldn't be afraid of that, afraid of death, and yet she was, simply because it was so stupid and senseless and pointless. If she knew that her dying was actually going to make a difference, it would be different, but she had no guarantee that it would, and she didn't want to face that when she could just stay here, forget about the timeline, and have with Jack what she could never have anywhere else. "I'm scared of going back to that and never knowing what it's like to be with you because I want to be with you, not because of some island... thing... but if I do know, I'll never give it up."

Why the hell was this so hard? Had she not done enough denying herself in the last decade or so to earn herself this one little allowance?

"Why do I get the sense that when I finally fuck you there's gonna be choirs of angels and a full orchestra playing in the background?" Jack joked, sliding his hand down to her shoulder. He hated to be flippant, but she'd been so open and honest and he didn't want to push her into something she wasn't ready for if he had a chance to step back and take them back to where they were before.

And she felt it was important to get them home. Carter had always taken pride in her work and she wouldn't be the woman he knew and loved if she didn't. Part of him was proud that she wasn't gonna give up so easy but part of him was just frustrated she didn't want to...study in contrasts.

He squeezed her shoulder lightly to temper his words.

"It's never fucking with you, Sam. It's...it's more than that. It's just physical expression of all that stuff I can't put into words because I'm not as eloquent as you. I'm sorry I asked about sex again. I honestly thought you'd had enough time to be ready, you know?"

Sam hated that word, but she knew what he meant, and her hand went to his on her shoulder and covered it. "No, don't be sorry," she said, squeezing a little. "It's not like you weren't asking about something I wasn't thinking about anyway." She sighed, shifting a little, restless and unsure. "And I know what you mean... about it being more than that. It really is."

And that was what made it so difficult. They might cuddle and kiss and make out and maybe more, and that was good--really good--but if it came down to it she could give that up, if she had to, to go back and make things right. It would be hard, but she could make herself do it. But if they went further than that, it would not just be difficult to go back. It would be impossible; and it would be unfair to Jack, too, especially knowing it would mean as much to him as it did to her.

Despite all that, when he was looking at her like that and pouring his heart out, so blatantly honest in a way he never was, free of the sarcasm and the immature humor that were part of his normal front to the world, she couldn't help but want him. And more than that, she wanted him to know it, especially after what he'd told her. She had to kiss him.

Sam leaned in, her hand falling from his on her shoulder to rest on his bare chest, and kissed him; just a soft brush of lips, careful, but full of all the things she couldn't say without sounding like a fool.

"Did you want this?" Jack mumbled softly, leaning up to capture her mouth in another kiss. He didn't want to go too far but her saying she wasn't ready didn't really go well with her kissing him in her bed either and he didn't really know what to do.

He deepened his kiss to show her what he meant, tongue tracing lightly along her lower lip and teeth scraping their gently in what he hoped was a punctuation to his point. Always hard to get the grammar right when you weren't using words.

She groaned softly and her hand on his chest curled into a loose fist. Her fingers caught on the chain of his tags and they made a little chinking sound but she didn't uncurl her fingers. "I just really wanted to kiss you." Her voice was soft and a little crackly, and she swallowed and exhaled carefully, as if she wasn't careful the wrong words would come out on the exhale--because she hadn't just wanted to kiss him.

"Oh, okay," Jack said quietly, his own voice less than steady. He reached up and laid his hands on her hips, gently guiding her on top of him in a much more comfortable position than her leaning over him the way they had been. And hey, he was a man. It was slightly selfish.

"You can kiss me again," he murmured, hands sliding up beneath her shirt lightly, thumbs rubbing against soft skin. Dammit. He was so screwed.

"If you want. Or you can just sit here and let me look at you."

She was so screwed, and she knew it the minute she shifted on top of him with her thighs on either side of his. When it came to Jack, she just didn't have the willpower or even the desire to stop this. She just didn't. His hands were on her skin and she just wanted to press herself into them and kiss him until she forgot her own name.

The last part she didn't know about but she had to kiss him again. If all they did was lay here and kiss for the rest of the morning... well.

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