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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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.

Jack pressed her against him, rolling his hips a little so she could feel what was going on. It was just friction and they were still clothed so it wouldn't really be a breach in the rules they'd set down. Besides, she ought to know how much she had him worked up just from a couple kisses; he wasn't made of stone and sometimes he felt like Carter needed that reminder.

"Kiss me again, Sam," he murmured, fingers lightly tracing her waist and hips.

She didn't need the reminder, but it was welcome all the same, and even through their clothes she could feel exactly how much he wanted her.

Not that it was a surprise, or that she wanted him any less, even if she couldn't quite...

But she wasn't thinking about that. They were kissing again and she wasn't thinking about anything but that kiss, slow and deep and warm, and her fingers untangled from the chain and slid across his chest.

Jack pushed her shirt up, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over her head. He thought that he and Sam had done enough in this particular arena that he could read her and know when it was too much and if he couldn't, he had no doubts that she'd tell him.

And he wanted the chance to look. It'd been so frantic on Valentine's Day that he didn't get a chance to really look at her and see what he was getting and he wanted that chance.

Jack pulled her down slightly, hands back at her waist and lips a little harsher than they were normally. Normally, it was all soft kissing and tentative and unsure and now he was keeping it just to her mouth but using his teeth and tongue and everything he could to let her know it wasn't gonna be an easy thing.

It wasn't too much, not yet. It was just enough to make her ache--God, did she ever--but not enough to push her panic buttons, and her hips slid against his with a little arch of her back that pushed her mouth away from him for a second before she found his mouth again. That felt really good, enough to make her do it again and again and again until she shuddered and had to be still and breathe for a few heartbeats so the feeling didn't overwhelm her; it pulled a soft rasping sound from her throat, punctuated by the sound of her tags clicking against his and sliding against the chain when she moved again.

Jack caught her hips, hands moving down to push at her waistband slightly and fumble at the buttons. He was still mostly dressed, where it counted, and he was pretty sure Sam wasn't going commando under her clothes and that was still technically clothed, right? She had on underwear! Both top and bottom!

Oh, he was so screwed.

"Sam? You still good?"

Sam nodded and breathed a little yep, because she was; she might not be in a minute, but right now she was very much okay. She had no idea where they were going with this. Not ten minutes ago she sat here and told him they could not have sex, and now... well, she wasn't stopping him. She didn't want to stop him.

Yet.

Jack finished pushing her pants down enough that he could work his hand inside and brush against the front of her panties, thumb rolling against her with nothing but the cotton between his hand and her skin. See? Barrier!

"Take your bra off, Sam."

His voice was low and soft, trying not to scare her and make her have that out of control feeling that Jack sensed she didn't really like. Nope. Nothing out of control here. Sam was completely in control; Jack just had ideas.

And Sam was perfectly willing to go along with those ideas, except that she was already so close that she didn't want to do anything that might change that; taking off her bra required some shifting and moving that just wasn't going to happen, not when she was feeling like this. She gasped and shook her head and pressed against his hand, soclose--and then she was falling over the edge with a ragged little sound, her whole body trembling all over with it.

Jack frowned for a second; he'd really wanted her to take it off so he could actually see and then he felt it and figured out why. He didn't think she was so close and he slipped his fingers inside at the last minute just to feel for a second, satisfied smile on his face. Not made out of stone after all, huh?

"Feels good, huh? Letting go for once?"

Sam nodded, with a little sigh, and stretched out, half beside him and half on him. "Yeah," she said softly, and nuzzled at his cheek; then she kissed him, a little messily, because she was still reeling a bit. She hadn't been expecting them to go there, not really, and while she wasn't freaking out about it, and it wasn't too far into the area of things she couldn't handle, she was still a little dizzy with it.

Jack smiled back lazily, hand tousling her hair for a minute before going to unhook her bra. He wanted to get a look still, even if she'd already come. Besides, he was carefully toeing the line, little steps, trying to see what was okay.

And hey, he still had it, because he hadn't done the one-handed subtle bra unhooking thing since he was back in high school. He rubbed the skin there, chuckling a little.

"Are we okay?"

"We're okay," she said, and smiled a little; Jack was being persistent in wanting to get her bra off, so she slid her arms out of it and pushed it away. He was being careful with her, even after telling her how much he wanted to be with her, and it meant more to her than she could ever really explain to him.

She slid her hand down his chest, and then, after a brief hesitation, smoothed it over his stomach. "We're okay," she repeated. "Promise."

"Mmmm. Good to hear," Jack murmured, letting his eyes wander over her chest for a moment. He'd always wanted a better look at Sam's breasts and hey, look, sometimes you did get what you wanted if you asked nicely.

"How uh...how okay? Because I really probably need to go swim about ten miles after that unless we're...really okay."

"Really okay," she assured him. Not the kind of really okay that meant she was going over the line, but she was okay with skirting it. Her slim fingers deftly unfastened his pants, and she slipped her hand inside and wrapped it around his warm length.

She might not be okay with having sex with him right now, but if the only time she ever got to be close to him at all was that island influenced fisaco, she was going to regret it; so this, she was totally okay with.

Technicalities.

Jack actually hadn't been expecting that and he arched his back sharply, pressing into her hand. It felt good and he didn't really want to admit to himself just how good it felt...or how often Sam had starred in this particular fantasy lately.

His voice was breathy when he finally spoke and he cursed himself for it. Dammit. Way too affected.

"So didn't think I was getting that. Feels good."

For Sam [TR]

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