Title: Drinks and Broken Cars

Author: Secret Art

Rating: R for sexual references and one swear word

Category: romance, angst

Pairings: Sam/Jack

Spoilers: none, general knowledge of show

Summary: see title

Feedback: can only make me better

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.

Author's note: Came to me in the shower… what more do I need to say?

Jack's POV

The movie finishes and you get up, stretching sore muscles that complain from you having sat in the same position for so long.

"Anyone want another?" You ask, holding up your empty beer bottle.

They share looks before Daniel finally answers.

"No, thanks, I'd better be going anyway."

"I'm not sure you're still under the limit" Sam counters half seriously.

"I'll drive," Janet volunteers, waving her arms about, causing the empty wine bottle beside her to fall and roll around on the carpet.

"I believe it would be safer to let me drive." You turn to Teal'c, who raises an eyebrow and you shake your head before tossing him Daniel's car keys.

"Here you go big fella."

Teal'c catches them with ease in one hand before standing and turning to face you and Sam.

"O'Neill, Major Carter, I have most enjoyed this evening."

"Thanks Teal'c."

"Yeah, see ya Danny boy," you yell to Daniel's back, noticing with interest that he has his arm around Janet, and your not sure is he's holding her up, she's holding him up, both, or whether that is what people are supposed to think.

Your gaze moves over to where they were sat, the empty wine and beer bottles, and pray that they don't do anything stupid, or if they do, that they still remember it in the morning.

Moving over to the window you peer out and watch Daniel's car drive off down the road before pulling the curtains shut and turning back to your remaining guest.

She's sat, curled up in your armchair, in the same position she's been in for the whole movie and you wonder how sore her muscles must be. She answers your thought by uncurling herself and standing gracefully, without any hint of cramp or sore muscles.

Looking up at her you notice how the fire light, from the fire you made earlier, reflects off her, giving her an almost picturesque quality.

"Colonel?" She asks, her face showing her confusion at your prolonged silence and you can't help but think how cute she looks.

Realising that you should probably answer you open your mouth to find that all that comes out is "huh?"

"I'd better go too." She points towards the door to make sure that you understand.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." You wonder where you ability to speak sentences has gone, and when she shakes her head at you in amusement you suddenly realise that a lot of your blood has disappeared from your brain, and you try to remember just how much you drank whilst shifting uncomfortably on the spot.

"Goodnight Sir."

You turn round to see her already at the door, coat on, bag in hand, an understanding smile on her face and you wonder if she wants to stay as much as you want her to.

What's left of your brain and other regions are screaming at you to tell her to stay, but instead you smile back at her, reply with "be careful," and walk over to the TV whilst you still have hold over that tiny shred of sanity.

You hear her sigh, disappointed, before opening the door and slamming it slightly harder than needed on the way out.

You busy yourself with rewinding the tape, and it's only after that tape is back in the box, rewound, that you realise you never heard her car leaving.

Walking to the window you look over to your driveway where her car is still sat, and you can see her in the driver's side, door still open. You watch as she slams her hands on the steering wheel before muttering something, that if your lip reading is right, that looks rather like "shit".

She climbs out of her car, slamming the door closed in what you assume is frustration, and you quickly move away from the window when she starts walking up the path, not wanting her to know you were watching her.

You wait until you hear her knock before finally moving to the door, plastering a surprised look on your face as you open it. "Hey Carter, what's up?"

"My car won't start." You look at her blankly as you know she is an excellent mechanic and has dealt successfully with bigger problems than a car that won't start.

She sighs, annoyed. "It's too dark to see properly. And I am tired and slightly drunk so don't really want to go around messing with the engine anyway."

You move to one side of the door. "You'd better come in then."

Turning round you close the door behind her and silently swear that you will kill your brain if it looses any more blood to down there.

Moving to face her you see her stood uncomfortably in the hall way, looking everywhere but at you.

"You can use the spare bedroom, there should be some t-shirts in one of the drawers."

She smiles her gratitude, "Thank you S.."

"Jack!"

She nods, trying out the word, "Jack."

Your brain looses it's battle for any remaining blood, and thankful for the fact she has already turned round, heading towards the spare room, you try to discreetly sort yourself out.

Confident that your rather large problem is as inconspicuous as it will ever be you look up, just in time to see reach the bedroom door and turn towards you, "Goodnight Jack," and then she's gone.

You drag yourself off in the opposite direction towards your bedroom, before detouring to take a nice cold shower.

Twenty minutes later you get out of the shower and just manage to get yourself dried off and into some sweat pants before collapsing in bed, with just enough strength left to move the covers over you.

Just over an hour after that you are woken up by the TV playing quietly in the other room.

Climbing out of bed you rap your cover around you, wanting to stay warm, and walk towards the noise.

You walk in to find Sam curled up on the settee, cover round her shoulders, staring blankly at the TV.

"Sam?"

She looks up at you, a sadness about her that you hardly ever see.

"Budge over."

She stares at you in confusion but moves anyway, smiling when you sit down next to her; arranging the covers so that hers is over your shoulders and yours covering both laps. She moves closer to you, and rests her head on your shoulder.

She trails her hand over your chest, re-awaking certain body parts. Reaching your pants she brushes over your clearly visible erection, causing you to gasp.

"Nice to see I'm not the only one."

You turn towards her, opening your mouth to speak but instead ending up with Sam's tongue.

Pushing her away using your ever decreasing sanity you stare at her, taking in her eyes, dark with passion and arousal, before her lips are on yours again, and you are almost certain there is an audible snap as your sanity, along with doubts and everything else disappear, leaving just you, her, and a lot of pent up desire.

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You wake up, confused about your location until the previous night comes rushing back and you grin against her body. Feeling her start to wake you close your eyes, regulating your breathing so that you appear to still be sleeping, curious as to how she will react. You feel her move slightly before she stills, only her breathing informing you that she is still there.

"Morning," she whispers in your ear.

You open your eyes, finding her face right in front of yours. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking how she knew you were awake.

"I work with you, so I pride myself on being able to tell the difference between you being asleep asleep and pretending asleep." She grins at you and you shake your head fondly.

Suddenly her grin disappears, replaced by a slightly confused look. You watch as realisation dawns on her face, and she jumps up, running down the corridor.

You look around, trying to work out what happened, before getting up and following her down the corridor.

Stopping outside the bathroom you can hear someone being sick inside, so you slowly open the door to find her crouched over the toilet. Grabbing a flannel from by the sink you dampen it before moving over to her and placing the flannel on her neck, cooling her down, and slowly rubbing her back with your free hand.

You loose track of time but eventually she stops, collapsing to the floor exhausted.

She looks at the flannel held in your hand and a sad smile appears. "My mum used to do that." You look down at the flannel, slightly embarrassed. "My dad was never good with stuff like that, so after my mum died…"

"You took care of yourself."

"Yeah."

You hold out your hand and she takes it, using you to pull herself up. You reach over and flush the toilet before opening the cabinet and handing her a spare toothbrush. She smiles her gratitude before moving over to the sink.

"I'll be right outside if you need."

"Thanks."

It's only when you get into the kitchen, ready to make breakfast that you realise your lack of clothing. Laughing to yourself you move into the living room, grabbing the pants off the floor and putting them on. You look round the room and realise that you never tidied up from the night before.

About five minutes later, the room is looking slightly better and you turn to see her leaning against the doorway, watching you with a smile.

You move over to the table, grimacing at the amount of empty bottles and glasses. "How come you were being sick?" You ask, trying not to sound bothered.

You turn your head enough to see her shrug, "hangover."

You turn back to the table. "No one gets a hangover from one glass of wine."

"Daniel used to."

"You're not Daniel. I've seen you and Janet get through three bottles of wine each and be fine in the morning. It's not like you drank any of the wine anyway." You turn towards her and hold up her still full glass from the night before. "Want to try again?" She brushes past you, collecting together her clothes and putting them on under your expectant gaze.

"I'd better go, Janet said she'd pick me up at my place, we're going shopping."

"What about the car?"

She looks down at her feet, "it's fine."

"But last night?"

"I wanted to see what would happen. I knew you'd never let me in for no reason, so I came up with an excuse."

You sigh, silently watching her dress. Grabbing her bag she turns to you, her eyes sad and you open your mouth to say something. Realising that there is nothing to say you turn away, collecting together the remnants of the previous night, only stopping when you hear the door slam shut, waiting until you hear the car leave before dropping to the sofa, pulling one of the blankets to you, smelling the scent uniquely hers, the only reminder of what happened.