Caught in the Act

Disclaimer: Neither SG-1 or Doctor Who are mine.

A/N: Not a crossover, but brief mentions (no spoilers) of the ninth doctor season.

Fluffy little fic to break up all the angsty stuff I've been doing. I took some liberties with the timing of both shows, but this is set mid to late season eight of SG-1.

Enjoy!

Colonel Samantha Carter sat on her couch curled tightly into the corner, one leg tucked underneath her and the other drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around it. Her chin rested atop her knee and her eyes were wide as she watched the images on the screen of her TV. The sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt flapped slightly every time she shifted position and her sock covered toes kept curling and uncurling.

Sam Carter was deep in the throes of her guilty pleasure.

The no-longer-steaming mug of tea sat forgotten on her coffee table and the remote was somewhere on the floor where it landed after she accidentally kicked it during a particular shocking moment of the show. One of Sam's favorite things to do after a long stint at the base was come home and catch up on her show-usually three or four episodes would have passed by the time she got to watch.

She had never told anyone about this secret ritual, not even the general. It was too…geeky. Yes, she knew that the general consensus on base was that she was a geek, but she also had a reputation as a total badass to uphold and this show…well, it wouldn't necessarily help her maintain the badass image.

Geez…if anyone ever found out she watched Doctor Who…well, she would definitely have the resident scientists' attention. But she couldn't help it. It was a goofy, fun show that kind of dealt with the same things she dealt with in real life. It comforted her.

And now she was on the season finale.

It was technically a reboot from the older series and had only been on for one season, but Sam had been hooked from the first episode. And now she was in too deep, too involved with these characters. And now it looked as if the Doctor might die. The loud sound of gunfire filled her living room and Sam was watching raptly when her ears perked up and a chill ran across her skin. Had she imagined the sound of a footstep? Maybe something on the TV had sounded like one? Sam waited another minute, but finally decided it was her imagination and went back to concentrating on her show.

Until a voice to her left nearly caused her to fall off the couch.

"Carter?"

"General!" Sam scrambled to her feet, ducking and fumbling to find the remote and pause the DVR. Finally, silence descended over the room and Sam stood in front of her long time commanding officer in her sweats and oversize sweatshirt, clutching the remote in front of her, and an overly cheery expression on her face. "Hi, sir!" Her voice was so bright it hurt even her own ears.

"Carter." O'Neill drew out her name, his head cocked as he stared at her curiously. He had known her for nearly ten years; knew her better than he knew himself, but he had never seen her act like this. She was nervous and…giddy? But definitely very, very guilty. "What's going on?" His eyes flicked to the screen where a blonde girl was shouting something.

"Nothing!" She bounced on her heels in the same way she had seen him do countless times. "Want a beer, sir?" Get him away from the living room, away from the TV. He's already seen too much. The words ran through her head like a mantra, repeating themselves over and over. "Let's get you a beer."

She threw the remote onto the couch and tried to move past him to get to the kitchen, but a strong hand on her arm stopped her. "Carter, I ask again…what's going on?" She grinned brightly up at him and tugged nervously at her too long sleeve. The corner of Jack's mouth twitched. "Is that my sweatshirt?"

Sam glanced down in silent horror as she realized that, yes, this was indeed his sweatshirt. She had accidentally stolen it years ago after a team night at Jack's house. She had been chilly and he'd taken it off and passed it to her with a wink. She had grown so accustomed to having it around that she had never even thought to give it back.

"No?" She tried, her too bright smile faltering slightly.

Jack grinned and released her arm. "I've been looking for that for quite awhile, you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sam raised an eyebrow at him and turned, hurrying towards the kitchen. He followed at a more sedate pace, glancing over his shoulder at the frozen image onscreen. Whatever it was had engrossed Carter so much that she hadn't heard his knocking, or his key, or his footsteps as he came down the front hall. He'd never admit it, but he it gave him a thrill whenever he got to use his key—like maybe, one day, he'd have full rights to use it whenever he wanted.

Sam was bent over looking in the fridge when he entered the kitchen. "Um, sorry, general. Looks like I'm all out of beer. I have coffee, tea, or…well, water." She looked up at him, eyes still shadowed by extreme guilt. "I don't really have too much in the way of food either."

He waved a distracted hand. "There is something I want, Carter."

Sam's heart skipped a beat. He was tracing a pattern on her counter and her eyes followed his long fingers as they moved back and forth and up and down…Sam shook her head. "Name it."

"I want to know what you were doing that was so fascinating you didn't hear me come in." He grinned as she squirmed under his gaze. He kept tracing with his fingers, knowing it was throwing her even more off balance.

"I heard you, sir." Sam grimaced at the tremor in her voice. He raised his eyebrows at her and she sighed, an involuntary guilty smile playing on her lips. "Once you were already inside. Come with me."

Jerking her head, she led him back into her living room and plopped herself on the couch, gesturing for him to join her. He complied, sitting just a tad closer than was proper. But things had been changing in the last year—their boundaries were starting to fall away, slowly, but surely.

She started off haltingly, her blood rushing in her ears and her throat tight. "I…do this thing…sometimes…where I watch a show after a long mission or long stint at the base."

"Okay." Jack prompted after a long moment of silence.

"And…see, it's really personal, I guess. It's…well, it's my…guilty pleasure."

Jack couldn't stifle the chuckle that escaped from him—she just looked so vulnerable and worried over a TV show…he couldn't help it. "That's it? You have a guilty pleasure and now that I've discovered it you're nervous?"

Sam just nodded.

Jack couldn't help it. He reached a hand up and cupped her jaw, his fingers brushing her hair. "You're wonderful, you know that?" After everything they had been through, after everything they'd seen she still managed to find joy in the simplest thing. There was an edge of innocence to her that he'd never seen and he could kiss her for it.

And he almost did.

Sam was staring at him with a mixture of excitement, contentment, and trepidation. He wasn't judging her. In fact, he was practically caressing her. Maybe this guilty pleasure thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

"So." Jack slowly retracted his hand and looked his second in the eye. "What are we watching?"

"We?"

"Sure, why not? Anything that makes you this guilty has to be good, right?" Jack quirked a smile at her and settled against the back of the couch. "Mind?" He gestured at the coffee table.

"Make yourself at home." Sam said, her voice sounding far away. Could she really do this? Could she share this personal a thing with him? Well, if she could do it with anyone, it'd be him. She watched as he kicked off his shoes and propped his feet up on the table, throwing one arm over the back of the couch and laying the other across his stomach.

Sam looked from the content general to the TV screen and back again. He turned to look at her. "Well?"

"Um…" Sam looked down at her nervously twisting fingers. "DoctorWho." She said quickly and quietly, running the words together.

"What was that?" Jack cupped a hand behind his ear. "I'm old, Carter, speak up."

She rolled her eyes briefly before taking a breath. "Doctor Who." Then she waited.

"No kidding. Doctor Who, huh?"

"You've never heard of it." Sam's heart was racing and she tried desperately to quiet it lest Jack hear it.

"Quite the opposite, I watched it as a kid."

"Oh." For some reason, disappointment filled her. A part of her had been hoping to show him something new.

"But I didn't know they brought it back." Jack said quickly, sensing the change in her demeanor. Sam narrowed her eyes at him and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I hadn't a clue." He grinned. "Tell me all about it."

Sam felt the request hanging in front of her and knew that this was the moment, now or never. To share or not to share and all that…she took a deep breath.

"Well, he's the new regeneration, I guess and he picked up a human traveling companion—her name's Rose, that's her on screen—and they travel around time and space and they kind of do what we do, help people and different races of aliens and worry about affecting timelines and going-," But Jack held up a hand.

"Breathe, Carter." He chucked softly.

"Sorry, sir." She was loathe to admit that she was slightly out of breath. "I kind of, um, geeked out on you there."

"Not the first time." He winked at her.

Sam felt heat rising into her cheeks and she looked away quickly. It was just dawning on her how dangerous this situation was. Her walls were totally down and they were alone and he was sitting much too close. She had the sudden urge to press her hands to his broad chest and kiss him with everything she had.

In fact, the image was so vivid when his lips pressed against hers, she thought she had done it. She thought she had leaned forward and just done it. It took her a moment to realize that one of them had acted on her daydream…

But it hadn't been her.

The hard lines of Jack's body pressed her into the back of the couch and she felt herself relax into the embrace, like she had been doing this for years. Which, in a way, they kind of had. After several minutes, Jack pulled slowly away and held her face gently in his hands. "I like when you "geek out.""

Sam licked her lips and smiled before answering. "Neat." Jack grinned down at her and brushed his lips across her nose before resettling himself against the couch.

"You know, you never asked why I came over." He folded his hands in his lap and directed his gaze to the ceiling.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I'll bite. Why?"

"I have good news and bad news." Sam straightened slightly and waited for him to explain. "The bad news is that I will no longer be head of the SGC." Sam felt her heart drop as unintelligible sounds started to bubble up in her throat. "The good news is, I will no longer be head of the SGC."

"But that's the same news." She managed to sputter, staring at him in disbelief. How could that be good news? The SGC needed him! She needed him! She…needed him. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "Chain of command."

"Or lack thereof." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "If you want." But his tone didn't really suggest he was asking. And she didn't need him to.

"Yes." Sam grinned, feeling her heart swell.

"Yes?"

"Hell yes." He grinned and pulled his no-longer-second against his side, tucking her head under his chin.

"Good."

Sam beamed, trying to quelch the ridiculously sunny feeling that was spreading through her. After a moment, she reached behind her, blindly feeling for the remote. "Still want to watch?"

"With you? Always." Sam felt his smile more than she saw it.

"We'll start at the beginning." Sam found the first episode in her DVR and clicked play.

"Beginnings are good." Jack settled himself deeper into the couch, pulling Carter tighter against him. "But endings are better."

Sam beamed again. "I should geek out more often."

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

They both grinned as the theme music began to play and a story kind of like their own started on screen.

End

A/N: Just some fluffy stuff for you guys! Please R and R!