It was late.
Jack scrubbed his face tiredly as he shut the engine off. He checked his watch: 11.26. He looked at the house but despite the late hour, could see a faint light in the living room. Breathing deeply, he finally exited the car, locked it and crossed the street.
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A few family photo albums lay scattered on her carpet: she'd been rehashing old memories all night, some good, some sad, but somehow, it warmed her heart, knowing the simple sight of these photos could reignite the moments they represented in her memory.
Sam heard the faint knock and jumped a little. She checked the time on the blinking clock of her VCR, and stood up.
She wasn't wondering who it could be at this time. A burglar or a beggar wouldn't have knocked that way, so it could only be one of the boys or Pete. Since she doubted the latter would even want to see her...
She opened the door as Jack was raising his hand to knock again, the time stopped.
Their eyes met, and Jack stepped in, closing the door behind him.
Sam didn't say a word. Her eyes spoke to him way better than any articulate conversation, so he opened his arms and welcomed her silent frame when she rushed into his embrace, hugging him tight.
Jack leant back a little and looked her in the eyes then he bent, slowly.
She tilted her head, her lips slightly apart, inviting him, so he obliged her and kissed her.
In an exchange of deep sighs and noises of crumpled clothes, their kiss went from gentle to more urgent, more desperate, until Jack ended it brusquely, laying his forehead upon hers, his eyes closed and licking his lips as if to collect the last drop of her essence.
Their breathing was slightly erratic, and Sam's hands were still firmly joined behind his neck. Jack hugged her more tightly, and suddenly she broke.
She buried her head in his neck and he rocked her gently until her distress subsided.
When she looked at him, he could not discern any sadness in her eyes, but instead a sense of relief. She smiled at him before beckoning him to follow her to her living room.
Jack took his jacket off and draped it on the back of a chair before sitting on her couch.
She went to the kitchen, and came back with two steaming cups.
"Coffee?" she asked, setting the mugs on the coffee table.
He nodded and took one as she sat next to him, snuggling against him.
They drank their coffees silently, simply enjoying the moment.
As she felt the first pull of sleep, she stood up from his embrace, looking at him.
Jack looked back, a silent question in his eyes.
Once again she smiled and extended her hand for him to take it.
Jack rose and enveloped her fingers with his.
She walked out of the room, switching the light off, and to her bedroom.
Once inside, Jack softly closed the door behind him. She switched her bedside lamp, giving the room a soft intimate illumination. Then she turned to face him. He was standing motionless, waiting for her next move.
She stepped forward, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her cheek against his shirt covered chest. Jack wrapped his arms around her back. She turned her head into his neck and breathed in his scent, purely male, purely Jack.
Their lips met, their hands roamed. Not in a rush, not in desperation. The time was right.
Sam slowly slipped her hands underneath his shirt, skin met skin.
Jack pulled her long sleeved tee-shirt up her head, and unclasped her bra as she undid the buttons of his shirt. She reached for his belt, but Jack steadied her, sat on the edge of her bed, and unlaced his boots.
She quickly took her jeans off and sat on the covers next to the head board, waiting for him.
Once his boots off, Jack unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his khakis, before kneeling on the bed in front of her.
She pulled his head to hers and kissed him as he maneuvered to slip their bodies between the sheets.
Not a word was uttered. Jack O'Neill made love to Samantha Carter with the absolute certainty that it was *right*, and if her sighs and moans were any indication, she was on the same plan of existence as he was. That's all that mattered.
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Sam rested her head on his breast, sighing of contentment.
He caressed her hair absentmindedly.
"I love you" she murmured, kissing his skin.
He tightened his hold of her shoulder.
"I'm being transferred to Homeworld security..." he replied.
She rose suddenly, looking him in the eyes.
"That's why you...?!" she asked, irritated.
He sighed, coaxing her into his embrace.
"I hadn't planed it that way... I wanted to tell you but... You have pretty persuasive ways of changing the subject, you know?" he tried to joke.
"Assault on a superior officer?!" she snorted, trying to rise again.
He tightened his hold.
"Carter!... Sam... I *asked* for this..."
"What?... Why?!" she asked, nonplussed.
"I wanted to retire and lead the SGC as a civilian, but Hammond wouldn't let me. It was the only way."
"What about us?!"
"Because of us I'm transferring."
This at least, managed to calm her.
"You're doing this for us?"
"I'm doing this for us, yes... When I came to you in the observation room when Jacob passed away, I didn't know where I stood, but I was beginning to doubt my ability to continue to function as base commander, with you getting married. But then you..." he sighed, hoping she would get the message before resuming. "I called Hammond after that, and told him everything. He said he couldn't grant my wish but could offer me a compromise... So at the end of the week, we're all going to my cabin for a well deserved vacation, and then I'm flying to Washington..."
"Jack I... I don't know what to say..." she said, a bit defeated.
"Then don't say anything," he put a finger underneath her chin and made him look at her. "And I do, you know?" he smiled.
"What?"
"Love you..."
THE END
Story Notes: Season/Spoilers: up to season 8 Threads
Notes: My Jack/RDA/SHIP deprived mind set this up. The style is rather Spartan I'm afraid, old screenwriter's habits die hard I guess, so imagine it's a filmed scene. I don't like going into the characters' minds too much, so I hope the writing gives the scene enough for the reader to know what they're thinking... UNBETAED, and written in the spur of the moment.
Notes: My Jack/RDA/SHIP deprived mind set this up. The style is rather Spartan I'm afraid, old screenwriter's habits die hard I guess, so imagine it's a filmed scene. I don't like going into the characters' minds too much, so I hope the writing gives the scene enough for the reader to know what they're thinking... UNBETAED, and written in the spur of the moment.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]