Title: Unlahfulliche in Lyhte
Author: Pepper
Fandom(s): Stargate SG-1
Rating: R
Wordcount: 9198
Featured Character(s): Daniel, Jack, Sam, Teal'c
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: Really, when it came down to it, it was Daniel's fault.
A/N: This poll very definitely called for "Pretending to be married", with Sam and Jack. *crosses off trope #34* This was only going to be a brief ficlet. I'm not sure what happened.

Many, MANY thanks to aurora_novarum, for her excellent advice on making this thing a lot more comprehensible, and a lot less exposition-y. You can also thank her for persuading me to drop the cruel ending I originally had in mind. :D

Posted to LJ here.



---

"And she offers this bolt of cloth, and five hundred tenga of salt in exchange – Jack, are you even listening?"

"Not really. Can we just skip to the part where you tell her I'm not interested?" Jack had stolen Daniel's chair and was tilting it back as far as it would go. Sam was in the far corner, head ducked down over her laptop, not even feigning interest this time.

"That would be highly insulting to this poor woman." Not that he wasn't tempted. "Listen, I'm going to provide you with a phonetic translation—"

"Tried that," interrupted Jack. "We've been here long enough for even me to pick up the word for 'no', Daniel."

Daniel couldn't help but feel he was being punished. As the woman continued to make her offer, Daniel gave Jack a look of annoyance. "This is because the General agreed to let us stay so I could study the culture, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Daniel. I can't speak the language; you can. You're the people person. Ergo, handling this is your job." Jack tipped his chair back and folded his hands across his stomach. "Next time someone asks you if I've taken a vow of chastity, maybe you'll say yes."

Daniel sighed, unable to argue that point. At least he'd caught on quickly, and roped in Sam as Jack's 'wife', claiming chastity vows for himself and Teal'c – but by then, the damage was done.

The woman started to speak about her fertility, and Jack had specifically requested that Daniel not translate that, not after the first time, so when she paused for him to translate, instead he said: "Well, maybe if you and Sam would act a little more affectionately towards one another, they wouldn't think your marriage was on the rocks."

"This is how I acted when I was married," said Jack. Daniel rolled his eyes. The woman carried on.

Because of the strong Chersonnen tradition of male chastity, there were much fewer eligible men than women, and many nubile young Chersonnaieya had decided to woo Jack away from his apparently loveless marriage. Daniel had started out by putting a more kindly spin on Jack's brusque, "Tell her there's no way! She's sixteen if she's a day, for crying out loud," but he was rapidly running out of patience. If he had to go through this one more time, he was going to start spreading a rumor that Jack had a disease that had made his penis fall off.

When she'd finally finished, Daniel shot Jack a speaking look, and began the same spiel he'd recited four times already. "Our leader is greatly honored by your offer, but..."

Having chased suitor number five away at last, he turned to Jack and Sam in exasperation. "Could you please act more married?" Jack stared at him, and Sam looked up from her laptop at last. "The General only gave me four days, and I know it's not of galactic significance, but this work is very important to me. I really don't need to be translating your 'thanks but no thanks' speech every five minutes."

"Look, Daniel, I don't know what you expect us to do! We can't exactly... canoodle."

"I won't tell! Teal'c won't tell! Just, please, do something," begged Daniel, waving a scroll in frustration. "Act like you enjoy being married. Stop acting like – like Sam has cooties! Jack, I could be on the verge of discovering a possible connection between this world and the ancient Malay Peninsula!"

Sam sighed in resignation, and shut her laptop with a snap. "Okay, Daniel," she said. "We'll... do something."

Jack gave her a sideways look. "Major?"

"For the good of the mission, sir."

"Good. Great." Daniel made shooing motions with his hands. "You kids have fun. Go and do your thing. Just go away."

So really, when it came down to it, it was Daniel's fault.

---

Outside, Jack glanced briefly at his 2IC. When she'd said they'd... do something, his mind had immediately gone to all sorts of inappropriate places, and he was having a hard time shaking the images.

"We need to do this somewhere public," said Sam, sounding brisk and efficient and coolly in control. He was torn between relief and disappointment. "Somewhere we can demonstrate to the village that you're happily committed to this relationship."

God, could she make it sound any more clinical? "This is extremely inappropriate, Major," he said, knowing he was putting her in the position of having to defend the plan to do... something, and knowing it was an asshole move, but unable to stop himself. She gave him a glare.

"Yes, sir, but it's at Daniel's emphatic request, for the good of the mission. It's not like we're going to enjoy it."

Ouch.

"Fine," he said. "Over there." He pointed to a corner on the edge of the central building, a combination of council meeting hall and guest house, where they'd been given rooms. Normally the rooms were used by the traders who sporadically visited from the only other world the Chersonnen people had known about – the world that, until three days ago, they had assumed was the Stargate's only destination. Each building was circled by two walkways – one public, for traveling between the rope bridges, and one a sort of verandah. On the verandah circling the central building was a spot that overlooked much of the rest of the village. Perfect if they wanted to be seen.

He'd thought the houses on stilts, called kelongs, were cool when he first got here, but after three soggy, humid days and at least one time each that they'd slipped on the damp wood and nearly plunged into the sea, thirty feet below, he was rather looking forward to his nice, dry home. But they were still kind of cool.

They made their way carefully over the footbridge to the kelong, and she slipped under the handrail while he stomped up the steps to the verandah, determined to ensure that neither of them would enjoy this... whatever they were about to do. Had she meant kissing? A kiss or two ought to be enough to inform the world that he was happily in love and they should leave him the hell alone. Yes, a kiss, and he could make it unpleasant for both of them – he could grab her, and crush her in his arms, and kiss her so hard she saw stars, and...

...Damn, that didn't sound unpleasant at all.

This was a bad idea. A very, very tempting, very, very bad idea. Maybe he should've eaten one of those garlicky cake things, and doomed it from the start.

Oh well, too late now.

Maybe he shouldn't kiss her. Yes, that was probably for the best. They could do other things. They could... He realized abruptly that they were standing on the designated spot and staring at one another. "Now what?" he asked. Well, barked. Damn. She blinked, and looked away.

"Okay, um." She cleared her throat, obviously finding this excruciatingly embarrassing. "Well, let's start with some touching, I suppose."

His mouth dried up. "Hmm?"

"You know – innocent, but intimate. As if we're used to... touching one another."

So, not as though he'd mentally catalogued and memorized every single one of the brief moments when his skin had brushed hers, then? "Okay." He glanced down at his feet, and ordered them to move. He took a quick stride forward, and she took a hurried step back – and he winced at the sound of her head knocking into the support post. "Hey, careful there," he said, forgetting all about their plan, and reaching up to rub the back of her head. "We need those brains."

She was staring up at him, and... oh! Yes. Well, at least this looked like part of the plan. Resisting the impulse to quickly pull his hand away, as would have been his usual reaction, he let the gesture become a caress, stroking her hair and moving his other hand to her shoulder.

"Now what?" he asked. Yes, that was a better tone of voice – much softer, much more intimate.

Sam dropped her head, resting her hands against his chest. "Keep doing that. Don't look now, but we're being watched. I think it's one of your admirers."

Oh, there was no way he was looking at anyone else right now, not when her hands were hot through his T-shirt, her thumbs resting against his solar plexus. He slid his hand down the back of her neck, and stroked a patch of skin just above her collarbone. She shivered. "Sensitive spot?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

"Hmm. Not usually." She opened her eyes and quickly lifted her head. "I mean—"

"Shh," he said, and – for the good of the mission – allowed his hand to drift around, his fingers brushing lightly over her jawline and across her lips. "Remember what Daniel said: act like you're enjoying this."

"Okay," she sighed. "I think I can do that."

When her lips closed over the tip of his index finger, he began to re-evaluate the craziness of his grabbing-her-and-kissing-her-hard plan. Maybe it wasn't such a bad plan. Maybe... maybe it was the best plan he'd ever had.

He groaned quietly and pulled his hand away, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close, burying his face in her neck to stop himself from doing anything else. Temptation was a drug in his veins, threatening to overwhelm all rational thought. He pressed his lips to her neck, unable to stand another moment without kissing some part of her. "This is gonna be the death of me," he predicted, pushing back her T-shirt with his nose and nibbling at the tender skin underneath.

"Mmm?" she murmured, tilting her head to the side to give him better access.

"Well, for a start, I'm never going to be able to look Jacob in the eye again, and then he'll figure out somehow what I did just... now..." He pressed a kiss to the pulse point in her throat, "and then he'll shoot me, and I'll be dead."

"I..." Her breath hitched, and she tried again, a little unsteadily. "I'd really appreciate it if you could not talk about my father, right now."

"M'kay." Jacob – zat and all – was dismissed easily from Jack's mind, because he'd just realized that one of his hands was straying down over the curve of her hip, toward her ass. Dragging it back up to safer territory, he turned them so they presented their profiles to the centre of the village, and used the movement to take a swift survey of the surrounding buildings. Yes – at least two pairs of eyes were on them. Hopefully they'd create enough of a scandal before Jack lost what remained of his sanity. "So now we should...?"

"Talk," said Sam, leaning back against the pillar. "Keep talking. About anything."

"Make it look like this is how we usually debrief?" said Jack. Oh, if only!

"If you like." Hmm. Sam didn't sound so coolly in control any more. Which was bad, he told himself firmly. They had to keep this professional. This was all for the good of the mission, and they had to remember that. He shouldn't be in the slightest bit pleased that he'd brought that dazed, flushed look to her face and that breathless tone to her voice.

"So, Carter..." He cast about for a topic, but nothing sprang to mind. Nothing appropriate, anyway. "Tell me about..."

"The desalinization process?" she suggested.

"Yeah. That'll do."

So Sam talked, and he listened while she told him all about Chersonna's extremely efficient desalinization process, and how she had taken copious notes, and planned to construct something similar for long-term offworld missions, and maybe the Alpha Site. And how the Chersonnen used the fresh water but traded the salt through the Stargate, and the fragile economy they had built up.

He was pretty sure he'd never heard anything so erotic in his life.

---

Sam talked...

"...and they char the wood they harvest from the atolls to create..."

And talked...

"...potential for a small, portable unit..."

And talked...

"...interesting how they only connect the DHD when they need to dial out, so that..."

And talked.

All the while, she was trying to ignore how close he was, and how warm, and how strong and comforting were his shoulders, the kissable angle of his jaw, and how one of his hands was stroking restlessly up and down her back while the other played with the ends of her hair, which needed cutting and was therefore just long enough for him to wind between his long fingers.

Yes, she was ignoring all that, and at the same time trying to act like it was all perfectly normal. As if, as he'd suggested, they usually debriefed while wrapped in one another's arms.

If only!

Her self-restraint was nothing short of heroic, but she was pretty sure they weren't going to give her a medal for not kissing her CO. They were more likely to be brought up on charges, particularly if someone plugged her into that damn zatarc machine again and asked her what she'd been thinking. Hell, they wouldn't be in much more trouble if they did actually kiss.

...No. No, it was a bad idea. Not because of the potential career ramifications, but because giving in to the temptation might be enough to finally tip her over the edge, and cause her to lose the common sense to which she was so desperately clinging. She might forget their ranks and the respect they owed to the Air Force, and she might... she might accept that fishing invitation, at last.

God, that sounded ridiculous. It wasn't as though the world would end if they finally went fishing together, was it? Even if she wasn't so much worried about the fishing as she was the possibility she might throw him to the dock, tear all his clothes off, and kiss him all over.

"What?" he asked. She turned her head – damn, he was close, her lips were almost brushing his chin – and raised her eyebrows. "You were kind of... zoning," he said. "And then you chuckled."

Oh, yes – she'd been talking. Not that she had any idea where she'd left off. She was sure that if she asked him, he'd have no idea, either. "Oh, I was just thinking."

"What about?"

If your dock was splintery and if the weather was warm enough to be naked outdoors in Minnesota right now, she very carefully didn't say. She stared up at him, trying to think of something more appropriate. It wasn't easy, with his dark eyes so close, so warm and inviting...

"Oh," he murmured, before she'd managed to reboot her brain. "That."

Sam searched his expression – yes, he really had understood. Her shoulders slumped. "Yeah, that," she admitted.

He kissed her eyebrow. Ooh. "I don't know what you've heard, but it's not that laughable," he said, making her smile. He was so juvenile sometimes. The fact that she found him amusing should've been her first warning.

"Well, Teal'c didn't like it," she said, deliberately misunderstanding his innuendo. He stilled in her arms, eyes flashing to hers and expression suddenly blanked – a sure sign of his internal reaction. She kept a straight face. "He said it's too hot and damp." His eyebrows skyrocketed. "And there are far too many mosquitoes," she added, mischievous smile breaking through at last.

"Oh! Yes, the cabin. Yes, well, I've encountered the sandflies on Chulak; Teal'c has no room to cast aspersions. Besides, there aren't that many mosquitoes. He just needs to learn to relax and enjoy the fishing."

"Teal'c needs to learn to relax?"

"Yeah, you know how he is."

"Mm-hmm." She tried to pull a straight face, and failed miserably. Jack looked down at her with that suppressed smile he always wore when he'd made her laugh, and it felt utterly natural when he leaned forward slightly and kissed her nose.

"You're so..." he said, but left the sentence incomplete. He looked away, and then back, and then down at her lips, and then back. And she was suddenly so very there. She could feel her breathing pick up, mirrored by his. He stared into her eyes. "Carter, I..."

"We shouldn't," she said. Although that throaty tone in her voice, the hungry look she'd given his lips, and the fact that she was tilting her chin up invitingly probably wasn't adding to her credibility.

"We shouldn't," he agreed, his nose brushing hers, and his eyes drifting down.

She could feel the warmth of his lips, millimeters from hers, and she ached to close that gap. It was all she could do to stay still. "We'll have to lie to Hammond."

"We will. But then we weren't going to tell him about any of this, were we?"

This was true. One little kiss wouldn't be much worse than what they'd already been doing – any of it was potentially enough to get them into hot water, whether they were doing it for the good of the mission or not. No, what to tell the General had never really been the issue. "We'll regret it."

"Maybe," he said. "But maybe it'll be worth a little regret."

It occurred to Sam that they were talking as if they'd already made up their minds. And, if she was honest, maybe this had been inevitable for a long time. She'd been fighting this magnetic pull toward him for what seemed like forever – but maybe all she'd really been doing was putting it off. "Jack," she breathed – and their lips closed the final distance, and met.

---

They had, in Jack's estimation, about seven seconds in heaven before there was a dull thud and a cloud of dust enveloped them. They broke apart, coughing, and quickly covered their mouths and noses. Jack looked around for the source.

"At the window," said Sam. "I think I sa—" She broke off, coughing hard. Whatever it was, it had cleared fast – just a brief burst, instantly dispersing on the breeze.

From inside the building, there was a sudden commotion. They exchanged looks through streaming eyes, and quickly ran for the door.

Inside, an older woman had a younger one by the ear, and was pinching it hard and shouting at her. She was loud, but even though they didn't understand the words it was obvious from the tone that this was in the line of a parental disciplining. Around them, a handful of other people had stopped work to watch the show. The woman dragged the girl over toward them, and Jack realized, to his dismay, that this was one of his more youthful admirers. Oh, crap.

"Sir, isn't that—"

"Yup." He glanced at Sam. "That was some kind of practical joke, I guess. Some people just don't take rejection very gracefully."

"Lovely," grimaced Sam. "Well, we wanted to get people's attention."

The woman shook the girl by the ear, and Jack winced, flashing back to his schooldays. Then she pointed at her, and waved at the two officers. The girl answered back defiantly, and was shaken again.

"Should I get Daniel?" asked Sam.

"Nah. I don't think we need to bother him for this, do you?"

"I suppose not."

The girl had finally been shaken into some sort of order, and she glared at Sam and Jack, and ground out what was quite obviously a grudging teenage apology. "That's okay," said Jack. "No harm done. Just don't do it again or I'll chuck you in the sea." He pointed at himself, then at the girl, and made a throwing-her-overboard gesture. The girl stepped back, looking worried, and Jack hurriedly shook his head. "Not this time," he said, holding up his hands.

The older woman gave the girl one final, satisfyingly brisk shake, and hurled her away, and the girl scurried out of the front door without looking back. Then the woman beckoned them nearer, and held out a collection of pale objects. Mushrooms, Jack realized, wrinkling his nose. The sort that exploded when you hit them. Well, wasn't that just great.

"We should probably get the spores washed off as soon as possible," said Sam. "She doesn't seem worried, so I doubt they're poisonous, but just in case."

"Yeah, plus it smells kind of funky."

The woman headed deeper into the kelong, beckoning them along. They followed, and she showed them to the room Jack had slept in for the past couple of nights, and pushed them in the direction of the washroom.

"Great. Thank you," said Jack, trying to remember the Chersonnen word for 'thank you'. The words eluded him, so he smiled at her, instead. "Thank you." She waved off his words, gesturing at the washroom, and then at the round bed, talking all the while. "No, I don't think we'll need to rest up. I think we're okay. Thank you." The woman, still talking, headed out and closed the door behind her. Jack met Sam's amused expression. "Nice lady. Reminds me of my Aunt Sylvia."

The water was cold, but the day was warm so it wasn't unpleasant. As there was no mirror they helped one another to wash off all the spores, which had gotten everywhere. They'd even managed to sift down the neck of Sam's T-shirt. He untucked the garment, pulling it over her head and throwing it behind him, and ran a washcloth over her naked shoulders, down her neck and chest. She undid his belt buckle when he kissed the point of her shoulder. She tugged his T-shirt off, and took the washcloth, smoothing it gently over every heated inch of his chest and down his abdomen, following it with her hands.

It felt fantastic.

He leaned against the wall as she ran her hands down his legs, pushing down his pants and kneeling at his feet to work on his bootlaces. His head swam as he watched her.

She pulled off his boots, helped him to step out of his pants, and kissed both of his knees just where they always ached. He tugged her to her feet, turned her back to the wall, and licked his way down from her collarbone, between her breasts, over her stomach, trailing off at her hip. He knelt to undo her belt and remove her boots and pants in return. He ran his hands back up her legs as he stood up, parting them gently so he could stand between them. She moaned, and he covered her mouth with feverish kisses, his hands roving over as much of her as he could reach.

It wasn't enough.

Blindly, he backed her out of the washroom and toward the bed, and when they fell onto it she turned them and sat astride him. The material was soft and cool beneath his back, and for a moment, lucidity returned. "Sa-Sam..." he managed, between kisses. "Don't you think th-this is a bit – oh, Jesus – a bit odd?"

"Mm?" she mumbled against his lips, not really listening.

Oh well, he'd tried.

Bra, panties, boxers – they seemed to disappear in the moments between memory, and suddenly she was on her back beneath him, and he was pressing forward hard, finding her heat, all idea of resistance gone. He had to move. He had to be in her – now, there, yes.

She gave a shiver, and instinctively he tried for it again, testing, following the thread of her pleasure. He pushed her legs open a little wider, and she seemed to like that, sighing softly in surprise and tilting her pelvis up, encouraging him to go deeper. God, she was warm. She felt so good. Every brush of their skin made his body fizz, sent his mind reeling.

He opened his eyes to study her responses; she'd closed hers, absorbed in the sensations they were creating. He moved up so he'd be rubbing against her with every stroke, and the powerful wave of heat this sent through him made him close his eyes again and set his jaw, trying not to come. She was so close...

More pressure there. Harder there, slicker, sliding obliquely – then smaller movements, insistent, never letting up because something about this this this was making her fingers curl into his back, nails digging in—

She gave a strangled moan, her hips arching up. The feel of her as she shuddered around and beneath him, the knowledge that he'd done this to her, was enough for him to let go, to fall over the edge and come hard inside her.

She was still panting hard, eyes closed, still trembling with the aftershocks, when he lifted his head again, his mind beginning to clear. He waited, aware that he was wearing an incredibly smug smirk, as she slowly came back to herself, and opened her eyes, heavy-lidded, startled, and looked up at him. She looked drowsy, disoriented, and sated, and he watched as she slowly focused, and blinked up at him...

...and slowly, like an explosion in a movie, rising shock, her smile aborted...

...and he remembered.

---

"Crap, I'm sorry, Carter!" he said, scrambling back, out of her and halfway across the bed.

Sam covered her face with her hands. This was so not how she'd pictured this happening. "Oh my god." She was still tingling all over, her body aching in all the right places and buzzing with satisfaction. She could feel the burn on her chin from his slight stubble, the stretch in the muscles of her thighs, warm wetness where he'd just... "Oh my god."

"I, uh... guess there was something in those mushrooms, after all," he said.

"You think?" She felt sick with the sudden change in direction, the lurch from the mindless happiness of a moment ago, to this – this swirling turmoil, endorphins warring with adrenalin in her body. Embarrassment and fear and regret. God, this wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening...

"I'm sorry, Major," Oh, great, they were back to ranks, now? "I hold myself fully accountable, you can press charges, I won't..." The bed wallowed nauseatingly as he sat up. "Shit, Sam."

She looked at him at last. He'd sat on the edge of the bed, leaning his head in one hand, and the pain in his voice made her head and stomach hurt.

Wait a sec...

Finally realizing that the growing feeling of nausea wasn't entirely emotional, she bolted from the bed to the washroom, reaching the toilet just in time to throw up everything she'd ever eaten. He was a few seconds behind her, rubbing her back as she heaved, again and again. But then his hand disappeared, and moments later she heard the revolting sound as he threw up in – she hoped – the sink.

When their mutual sickness had passed, they sat shivering on the floor of the bathroom, cold but too weak to move just yet. "I should've chucked her in the sea."

"Yes," growled Sam, head on her knees. "And if I see her again, I will." At least she felt more clear-headed now, purged of the drug – and a hell of a lot less amorous.

He groaned, and dragged himself upright. "C'mon. This floor is fucking freezing."

She let him pull her to her feet, and, studiously ignoring their nude state, followed him back into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, pulling the covers around her. A sudden flashback of clutching at his hip and licking his collarbone assaulted her senses... She groaned, and buried her face in the sheets. She'd known kissing him was a bad idea, but she hadn't realized karma worked so fast.

"Oh, no. No going to sleep."

"Give me a break, I've been poisoned!"

"Yes, all the more reason to go find Daniel and Teal'c." Her clothes were dropped beside her on the bed, and when she looked, he was already in T-shirt and boxers. She wanted to protest, but unfortunately she knew better. "Come on, Carter, we're not hanging around here for any other symptoms to manifest themselves." He waved his toothbrush enticingly. "If you get up, we can stop by your room so you can brush your teeth."

"Ugh."

Dressing was a lot less fun than getting undressed, and even less fun was the hurried conversation involving words like "condom" and "IUD" and "intrauterine device, sir." They agreed to tell Teal'c, Daniel or Janet only if it became absolutely necessary. When they walked out on shaky legs into the main room, the woman was there waiting. Sam could feel the blush that swamped her entire body as the woman gave them both a knowing look, and held out two cups of dark liquid, saying something they didn't understand.

"Uh, no," said Sam, wary of ingesting anything else for the time being. "We'd better not." She shook her head at the woman. "It might be some kind of antidote, but we don't know how we'd react to it." The woman shrugged, and set the cups down on a nearby table. "But we could do with a sample of those mushrooms."

Through a process of mime, at which Jack was actually quite good, they eventually obtained the same mushrooms that the woman had been brandishing earlier – a handful of them, tall and pale yellow. Most had been flattened against the window frame, but one or two were intact. Sam wrapped them in a handkerchief and stuffed them into her pocket.

Outside, the breeze was picking up and the clouds were moving in, and Sam stopped at the edge of the rope bridge, eyeing it dubiously. It swayed in the wind, and her stomach grumbled a warning.

"Are you sure this is wise, sir? I don't know about you, but I'm still feeling a bit wobbly."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right." Jack thumbed his radio. "Teal'c, Daniel, come in?"

"O'Neill," Teal'c responded, almost instantly. They exchanged looks of relief.

"Teal'c, where are you?"

"Look to your left." When they looked, Teal'c waved at them from two platforms over. Sam waved back. "Daniel informed me of the request he made," said Teal'c. "Have you successfully carried out a plan of action?"

"Uh... kind of," said Jack. "It didn't go so well, actually. Could you get over here? We might need some help."

"I am on my way."

"Daniel, are you listening to this?"

There was a pause, just long enough for a frustrated sigh, and then Daniel's voice came over the radio. "Yes. Jack, this isn't really a good time—"

"We need you over here, Daniel."

Another brief pause, and in her mind's eye Sam could see as Daniel came out of his anthropology-induced trance and remembered how often the Colonel asked for help. "I'll be right over."

"Thanks."

Sam staggered back to sit on the edge of the verandah. Jack came to sit beside her, and together they watched Teal'c's progress. His thigh was warm against hers, and she was momentarily overwhelmed by the memory of him pulsing deep inside her, hard and hot and urgent. She closed her eyes, but that only made the memory more vivid. It had felt so perfect, she didn't want to regret it – but...

"This is gonna make things awkward, isn't it?" he said, resignedly. She opened her eyes again and glanced at him. "For what it's worth, Sam, I really am sorry I lost control like that."

"Me too," she said. "We're both responsible – for provoking the attack, if not for everything we did afterward. I just can't believe..." She shook her head and looked down at her hands. "I don't know what we should do. I don't know if there's anything we can do, if we want to keep our jobs. Maybe we ought to just forget it ever happened."

"Yeah." He twiddled his thumbs. Thumbs that had felt so good against her nipples... gah. "I'm not sure I can. But if that's what you want, I'll give it a try."

"What else can we do?" she asked. He didn't answer, just stared out at the waves. "I mean, it's not like we can – you're not suggesting..."

"Hammond doesn't care," he said, still watching the waves.

"How can you possibly know that? It's not like you could ask—"

"He told me, once. He thought we were already involved, and he wanted to let me know that – well, that he was okay with it." Sam gaped at him. "Okay, he didn't say it outright, but it was pretty clear." He looked at her. "He hasn't exactly given us his blessing, but he's not concerned it'll affect our work."

Sam found her voice. "You talked to Hammond about us?"

"Well, he talked to me – but yeah."

"And you didn't tell me?" God, the idea of the Colonel and the General calmly sitting down and discussing the situation...! She felt queasy.

He shrugged. "What could I say? 'Hey Carter, Hammond's given the all-clear, wanna get it on?' I'm your CO."

"So what did you think would happen? That I'd tell you to go to hell?" Well, okay, she might have – he must have worried how she'd react, how she might feel. They'd never been able to discuss anything openly, and she'd never quite shaken the fear that the whole thing was a figment of her imagination, but... dammit, why had she fallen for this man?

He gave her a sideways look. "I don't know, Sam. Would you?"

---

The question hung in the air between them, and he waited, heart thumping uncomfortably, mouth dry. This was it; this was the moment, make or break. He'd laid his heart out for her, and it was up to her what she did with it.

But the footbridge anchors rattled before she'd given any sign of having formulated an answer, and they both turned to see Teal'c stepping on to the bridge, Daniel a few steps behind.

"There's timing," muttered Jack. He gave them a brief wave, resigned to waiting. Again. They'd probably come to their senses soon, and just pretend it had never happened, as she'd suggested. They'd done it before. Maybe they'd write this whole conversation off as mushroom-induced, too. Hell, maybe it was – except, of course, he couldn't remember a time when he'd not wanted her in his life, in every sense.

As the guys drew nearer, he realized there was one thing he needed to be sure she understood. They only had moments, and if she had the slightest doubt about his feelings... No. He had to say it.

"You know this isn't about the sex, right? Although it was..." He hadn't got the words. "Good." Holy hell, it had been a lot better than good. He couldn't stop thinking about her breasts in his hands, the taste of her lips, the feeling when he'd first... He cleared his throat. "Or not just about the sex, anyway. It's..." He glanced at her, and away again quickly, and determinedly thrust the words out. She deserved that much from him, after this whole fiasco. "I love you, Sam."

When he looked up, she was staring at him, eyes bright and with a slight teary sheen. "I love you, too," she said, before he could open his mouth to apologize again. "Everything else is..." She shook her head. "I don't know how to make the right decision, or even if there is a right decision, it's all so complicated – but that isn't. It never has been."

He stared at her, trying to imprint the moment on his memory. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

God, he really wanted to kiss her. But the rattle of the bridge reminded him that they weren't alone, and even though he knew Teal'c and Daniel wouldn't mind and wouldn't say anything, he just couldn't bring himself to cross that line in front of their friends, without an excuse.

And if that didn't prove the mushrooms had worn off, nothing would.

"Well, okay then," he said, as Teal'c stepped onto the platform, followed by Daniel. "Glad we've got that sorted." He winced at the inanity, but it brought a smile to her face, so he was counting it as a win.

"You look unwell, O'Neill, Major Carter," Teal'c greeted them.

"Gee, thanks, T. You always know how to make a girl feel special," said Jack, dryly.

"There's a reason for that." Sam held up the mushrooms. "Someone burst these at us. We have reason to believe they're psychoactive. We breathed in some of the spores, and it made us..."

"Blow chunks," finished Jack. "Big time." Which really had reminded him of the seventies. Oy.

"Are you guys alright?" asked Daniel, looking worried.

"Fine," said Jack, feeling the onset of a splitting headache. "But I'll never touch pizza al funghi again."

"Are these people unfriendly?" Teal'c frowned at Jack. "They have seemed amicable until now."

"Hey, don't look at me!" He glared down at his boots. "It's not my fault if the women around here are all a bit nuts. Anyhow, it's okay, it was just... youthful high spirits."

Sam handed one of the mushrooms to Daniel. "The woman in there," she said, waving her hand wearily. "Blue skirt, brown top. Get as much information as you can – anything you think Janet will ask us."

"Should you not return through the Stargate?" asked Teal'c, exchanging a concerned look with Daniel.

Jack shrugged. He was feeling a little the worse for wear, he had to admit. "I guess."

"Probably a good idea," said Sam, not looking as though she wanted to stand up, let alone cross a rope bridge suspended thirty feet above the sea.

"I will escort you to the Gate, and then remain here with Daniel Jackson. We will return with more information as soon as possible."

"Good. Great. That's the plan, then." Jack sighed. "Someone wanna give me a hand up?"

In the end, Teal'c escorted them individually across the bridge that led to the Stargate, arms braced on the ropes either side of them, just in case. They made it without incident, and a few minutes later they were stepping through into the SGC.

"I think I'm going to be sick again," muttered Sam, putting a hand to her mouth as they staggered down the ramp.

"Hang on. Just get to the infirmary, and—"

Too late. Fortunately, she hadn't got much left to throw up. Jack willed his rebelling stomach to stay put, and sat down on the edge of the ramp next to her, listening to the calls for "Medical team to the Gateroom! Medical team to the Gateroom!"

Done retching, Sam sat up and groaned, leaning weakly against him. Figuring their visible illness was enough excuse, he put an arm loosely around her shoulders.

"Yep," he said, dropping his head and closing his eyes, feeling tired beyond belief. "This part really sucks."

---

Daniel and Teal'c returned a couple of hours later, with the news that the mushrooms were indeed psychoactive, and that the Chersonnen people were deeply apologetic about the whole incident. They brought with them the mix for a tea made with charcoal which they had been told would mitigate the effects. "It's lucky the mushrooms just made you sick," said Daniel, smiling blandly, and Sam knew he'd found out what had happened.

"Yes, well – everyone reacts differently to these things," said Janet, sniffing at the linen bag full of tea. "I'll run a few tests, but if this is just stimulants and charcoal, you've already had those."

"Yum," said Jack, sitting on the next bed over. "My favorite."

"The charcoal absorbs some of the toxins. It's a good thing you were both so sick—"

"I beg to differ."

"—or we might have been dealing with a more severe reaction," said Janet, ignoring the Colonel's interruption. "That girl was very irresponsible."

"Yes, well... teenagers," said Jack. "They get thwarted, they stomp around and slam doors, refuse to eat dinner, poison you with magic mushrooms..."

Sam smiled. The nausea had settled down, the headache had been medicated away, and it all felt a lot less dramatic, now they were home. "The woman we spoke to..."

"Councilwoman Shah," supplied Daniel.

"Yes. She seemed to have the situation in hand. She just about shook the girl's ear off." Although if Sam ever saw the kid again, she was going to give her a kick in the pants, for good measure. "I think we can write this one down as a cultural misunderstanding."

"I suppose." Janet gave Sam a conspiratorial look. "They were really all chasing after the Colonel?"

Sam grinned.

"I resent your tone of doubt," said Jack. "I'll have you know I'm considered pretty hot stuff on many worlds in this universe."

"Mm-hmm? Really? Anyway, you're free to stop cluttering up my infirmary, but I suggest you take the rest of the afternoon off – or at least take it easy and don't work too hard, Sam. I'll inform the General," said Janet, walking away.

"I can give you the Gate addresses!" Jack called after her. "Just dial them up and ask!"

A silence fell between the four members of SG-1, when Janet had gone, and they looked warily at one another. Eventually, Daniel drew in a breath.

"Don't," entreated Jack, before he could speak. "Daniel, just... leave it, will you?"

"Were you going to tell us?" asked Daniel, undeterred as ever by Jack's threatening scowl.

"No."

"What you don't know, you can't be brought up on charges for," said Sam, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot.

"Uh, civilians here," said Daniel, waving between himself and Teal'c. Jack shook his head.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "It was trouble you didn't need."

"Do you think anyone would truly believe our ignorance?" asked Teal'c. Sam and Jack exchanged guilty glances.

"It's really not something I wanted to discuss," growled Jack. "It was a mistake, it was the mushrooms – no one needed to know. Not even you two."

"Really? You thought you should just quietly put this behind you for the good of the team – is that it?"

"Daniel," said Sam. "Don't. Please. At least not on base. Like the Colonel said, it was a mistake. It's done, and we have to move on. We can't tell anyone, because that'll be the end of SG-1."

"Unless you want to make an issue of it, break up the team, and finish both our careers?" invited Jack, dangerously cordial.

"Of course not," said Daniel. "Teal'c and I would never want that. Don't you see?" He caught Sam's warning glare, and dropped his voice. "We don't want the lurid details – quite frankly, I'm begging you never to tell me – and neither of us cares whether you've got," he glanced around, "the mushrooms out of your systems, or whether you plan to spend every weekend from now on... getting high—"

"Daniel."

"But if we're to stay as a team, Teal'c and I need to know that you can still work together, and that you trust us – that it's really not going to affect SG-1."

Sam winced, and Jack looked away. She knew he didn't want to promise that – he'd told her already that he wouldn't be able to forget about it, although he'd try if that was what she wanted. And she still had no idea what answer to give him.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," said Daniel. She gave him a sharp look, and then turned to Teal'c, who raised his brows and looked calmly back at her. He wasn't as hurt as Daniel seemed to be – perhaps he was less surprised; she'd always thought he understood the situation a little better than most – but his expression said that he did think he and Daniel were owed an honest response.

"Look," she sighed, "I think we can promise this much: we'll try to make sure it doesn't affect the team, and if it seems like – like everything's about to hit the fan, we'll give you as much warning as we can. Okay?" She looked round all three of them, and they slowly nodded. Sam blew out a breath. "Good. Now can we please stop discussing this on base?"

"Okay," said Daniel. "Yes." There was an awkward silence.

"Well, I have had a very long day," said Jack, jumping down from the bed. "I'm going home. Carter, what're you doing?"

"I think I'm going to check on my lab," she said, thinking she might close the door and have some quiet time to think.

"Okay." He sounded brisk and composed, but she caught the flash of pain on his face when she spoke, and the way he avoided her eyes. "Well, if I get a move on, I can catch the afternoon Simpsons reruns. See you guys tomorrow."

Sam stared thoughtfully after him as hurried out.

"There's always a Simpsons episode on somewhere, isn't there?" remarked Daniel.

"Indeed."

He thought she was giving him a message, she realized. He thought she'd just turned him down. Dammit. She had to talk to him. She still had no idea what to say, or what her decision would be, but she had to talk to him.

Today.

---

Jack sat on his couch, legs outstretched, fingers tapping gently on his chest, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think. It was surprisingly difficult. The TV muttered to itself in the corner, but it had failed to hold his attention. He could have a beer, or maybe something stronger, but he'd had quite enough of being in an altered state for one day, thankyouverymuch. He could have something to eat, but he wasn't really hungry. He could go to bed, but he was way past tired...

Jack sighed.

The pathetic truth was, there was only one thing he wanted to do, and that was to see Sam. He'd take anything – eating lunch with her and the guys in the commissary, bringing her coffee while she ran and re-ran Gate diagnostics in the middle of the night because something was broken, booking it from a horde of angry Jaffa on a planet far, far away – just so long as she was near. He wanted to be with her so much it made his teeth ache.

He was truly pathetic. Really, seriously unmanly – and so totally screwed. She'd said she loved him, but doubts had been circling in his head ever since he got home and allowed himself time to think. Maybe she'd still been high? Although he'd meant it when he said it, so maybe not... But either way, it didn't matter, because she didn't think it was worth risking both their careers to be together. And Jack wasn't sure he could go on loving her from afar. That ship had well and truly sunk. She didn't want to be with him, and if he couldn't muster the necessary chutzpah to carry on being her CO anyway, then that left him...

...where?

He tapped arrhythmically on his chest some more. Tap, tap, tap, tappity-tap tap, what to do, what to do, tap tap tap, tappity-tap—

Knock-knock.

Jack froze.

He opened the door (had he teleported over to it? He couldn't remember the journey), and there she was, in civvies that would have suited the summery weather had it still been daylight, a skirt and low-cut (don't look) blouse, unsettlingly feminine.

"Sa—Carter?"

"Hi," she said, shyly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

He stared at her, not sure what to say. "No," he tried. She hovered expectantly on his doorstep. "Uh, come in?" He stepped back, expecting a polite refusal or an oh-I-can-only-stay-a-few-minutes.

"Thank you."

Hrm.

He stared at the back of her head as she walked through into the living room, and chewed his lip. Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. His wishes rarely came true – and when they did, they usually turned right around and bit him in the ass. If previous experience was anything to go by, she was about to tell him she'd got it wrong, she didn't love him, and could he please get out of her life.

He revised his earlier thought. He didn't want to see Sam at all.

"Actually, Carter, I was just—"

"I don't have any answers."

He closed his mouth, opened it, closed it again. Walked down the steps to the living room. Tried again. "Huh?"

"I don't know what to do." She must have seen his baffled look, because she waved a hand, and tried to clarify. "Earlier, when we were released from the infirmary, I wasn't – I didn't mean to – I wasn't blowing you off." She winced at her poor choice of words, but bravely persevered. "I just wanted some time to think, because I didn't know what to do about," she waved her hand between them, "us."

"Oh." Oh, that. The moment he figured she'd decided to stomp all over his laid-out heart. "Right. How'd that work out?"

"Not so well, actually." She stood in the middle of his living room looking supremely uncomfortable, her hands clasped together in a move he knew she used to stop herself from twiddling her fingers nervously. "I sat in my lab for two hours with the door shut, thinking – and I still don't know where we should go from here."

"Oh." This was going to be a productive conversation, then. "Look, Carter, I don't know what you—"

"But there was one thing I couldn't get out of my mind," she said, interrupting him again. "And I'm pretty sure I've made a decision about it."

"Oh good." Maybe he should give up trying to navigate this conversation, and just make encouraging grunts every so often.

"Yes." She stepped closer, and he backed away. She stepped closer again, and he had better control this time, because he held his ground. She took another step, and now she was close enough to make his palms break out in a sweat, his mouth go dry, and his world go fuzzy at the edges. "About that kiss which was so rudely interrupted."

"Uh-huh?" Yes, encouraging grunts were definitely the way to go.

"Yes. I think it's only fair that, if we're going to break some regs, we at least get our money's worth."

"Hmm?" Ohgodohgodohgod. He kept his hands firmly by his sides, in case this was some extraordinary misunderstanding.

"After all," she said, her voice low and sweet as she leaned closer, "what harm is there in one kiss, when we've already done so much else?"

"Mmm," agreed Jack. There was something not quite right about her reasoning, but he was having a hard time focusing. Her lips were so... temptingly... close...

"So, really... I mean, it's only fair..."

"Yuh-huh."

"It's not as if it's..."

"Yeah."

"And we..."

"Mm."

Sometime between the moment when their lips finally met, and the moment he sank down onto the couch, pulling her with him, he seemed to have lost all of his common sense and his instincts for self-preservation. And she wasn't doing much better. One of them really ought to be stopping this, he thought hazily, running his hands through her hair and tilting her head for better access. Their teeth clashed hungrily, and he thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth, not inclined to be subtle at all, right now. He could feel her moan, and then her hands were on his skin, under his T-shirt. He slid down, down, until he was horizontal and she was crouched over him, and slid his hands under her blouse, splaying them possessively across her back. His finger caught on a piece of metal – the zipper to her skirt, some distant, tactical part of his mind informed him – and it slid down easily...

"Waitwaitwait!" exclaimed Sam, tearing her lips from his and – oh sweet Jesus – sitting up. "What are we doing?"

"Well, I don't know," Jack growled. "I thought you were the one with the plan!" He pulled his hands from her back, and clapped them over his face, wondering if she was trying to kill him.

"No! I told you – I don't know. I just came over here because I knew I had to talk to you – I knew we couldn't just leave it in the room, this time. But on the drive over, I kept thinking about that unfinished kiss, and coming up with reasons why it was okay to..." She sighed, and he lowered his hands. "Crap, you don't suppose we're still under the influence of those damn mushrooms, do you?"

Jack eyed her with affectionate frustration. "Oh, I'm under the influence of something, all right, but it's not mushrooms." Sam didn't look convinced. "This feels totally different. We stopped, didn't we? Anyway, Janet cleared us, and you know she'd never do that unless she was sure."

"I guess." She sighed again, and lay back down, resting her head on his shoulder. Jack wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, feeling a powerful wave of contentment, just to have her there. And frustration, of course. Oy. "I want to be here. I meant what I said before about, you know." Jack closed his eyes in relief. "But we could get into so much trouble. Now what do we do? Obviously, this is going to be an issue. We can't just keep – you know. Starting and stopping. I'd go insane in about a week." Jack grunted in agreement. "What do you want to do?"

Well, at least that was something he could answer. "Right now, I want to take you to bed," he said. "I want to make love to you, slowly and thoroughly, and then I want to fall asleep with you in my arms." He wanted other things, too – nebulous things, things that he barely even let himself dream about – but that was all it would take to make him happy. She was silent. "Sam?"

"That sounds really good," she said. "But what about tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that?"

"I'll pretty much want the same thing," he said. "Well, except maybe without the falling asleep part. Although sometimes I do that, you know – after." She chuckled, turning her face into his chest, and he reached up to stroke her hair. "And sometimes fast and frantic is good, too."

"Jack."

"But I'm not really up for anything gymnastic any more. My knees, you know. Walls and shower stalls are probably a no-go."

"Jack."

"I could be persuaded to try a little light bondage, if that's your—"

Oh, he could get used to this kissing thing.

Eventually she let him come up for air, and rested her nose against his, panting. She smiled. "Okay, let's do that."

He tried to remember what they'd been talking about. "Light bondage?"

She rolled her eyes. "Take a chance," she clarified. "Go with the flow, see where it leads us. Your genius plan."

"Oh." Well, if this plan meant he got to take her to bed now, he was all for labeling it 'genius'. "Raincheck on the bondage?"

She grinned against his lips. "Raincheck," she agreed. "We'll probably get enough of that when they lock us up for losing our mi..."

---

THE END.