Jack was lying on the bed in his quarters on base, staring at the ceiling. He had not slept since returning from P3X527 with SG-1. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind raced back to the planet, and Carter. It was no longer his normal routine to go off world, but he hadn't had any choice. His had been specifically requested to participate in the peace talks and he hadn't left the base in months other than to go home to sleep. The mountains of paperwork were mind-numbing. He had thought it would be a refreshing change of pace. He had chosen Carter as his aide because she had an uncanny knack for keeping him calm even when he was ready to strangle someone, very useful thing when he was dealing with two nations which had been at war for generations.

The negotiations had progressed much more slowly than he would have liked, but they had been making small amounts of progress each day. He and Carter spent most of each day listening to complaints and demands and offering counsel, but they also spent a lot of the time trying to convince two battle weary leaders to see reason instead of reacting emotionally. It was an exhausting uphill battle.

"Where is Daniel when I need him?" O'Neill remembered asking as he took off his jacket and sat heavily in a chair in their tent. "Why didn't I make him take this assignment?"

"He's in Moscow dealing with that mess." Carter countered, having heard his complaint every evening when they returned. "Would you rather be dealing with that?"

"Hell, no." He sighed. "That's why I sent him there."

Carter smiled and sat down across from him. "I have to admit. I'd rather be trying to diffuse some kind of doomsday device than listening to a lot of that."

He smiled at the memory. He and Carter had fallen into such a routine while on the planet. They ate together. They sat through the meetings, she sitting on his right hand side and frequently leaning in close to offer information or advice. Her scent filled his mind even now as he thought of it.

They passed the recesses playing cards or walking in the forest. They sat together in the evenings discussing the day's progress. They usually shared a drink before retiring to their beds. The tent, while spacious and well furnished, was a single room, and Jack remembered watching her so many nights as she fell asleep. He took such comfort in the quiet rustling of her blankets and the little noises she made as she slept. The little noises now painfully absent from his room.

He thought of the day that everything had changed. He had known at the time that he was treading on dangerous ground, but he ignored the warning bells inside his head. As they walked in the forest near the camp, they had veered off the trail and followed the small creek which fed the well in the village. The further they went, the louder the rushing of water became, eventually becoming very loud at the top of a cascading waterfall. They made their way down to the bottom and looked up at the breathtaking sight. In that moment, the rest of the universe ceased to be and Jack had taken her hand. They had not looked at each other, but her fingers tightened around his as they stood there, taking it all in. He wasn't aware of moving, and maybe it had been her, but he became conscious of her shoulder touching his. He remembered the sensation in his gut at the feeling of her body touching his, even in that innocent way. It was electrifying.

Eventually she had leaned over to him, her lips nearly touching his ear to be heard over the cacophony of rushing water. He had closed his eyes, savoring her warm breath against his skin as she told him that they needed to return to the camp. He had waited to acknowledge her for a long moment, hoping she would lean close again. She hadn't.

"Right." He had replied, keeping her hand for a few moments more before regretfully releasing it and following her up the trail.

There had been stolen moments after that. Their knees touching under the table. His hand on the small of her back as they walked. His hand accidentally on purpose left hanging off the side of his bed, just in the area of hers.

It has been exhilarating then. Now it was torture. He longed to look over to his left and see her sleeping. He hungered for the touch of her hand on his skin. He would sit through endless fruitless meetings if it meant he could spend more time with Carter.

"Damn it!" He exclaimed out loud as he sat up in bed. "What am I doing." He got up and walked to the mirror where he stared at his reflection. He looked old. Old and tired. When had this happened, he wondered. Carter looks as beautiful as the first moment he saw her. More.

He thought about the way she was wearing her hair. He loved the way it framed her face and smelled faintly like flowers. His heart pounded at the thought of her fingers entwined with his. He needed to feel it again.

Before reason took over, he grabbed his car keys and headed for the elevator. The entire drive over, he kept thinking of reasons to turn around but every time he considered it, she was there. He saw her sitting in her lab. He saw her fighting alongside him. He saw her standing there by that waterfall, holding his hand. Those images carried him to her front door.

"Sir." Carter was very surprised to see him there.

"Hi, Carter."

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." She stepped aside and he walked past into the living room. She shut the door and stood, facing him, with a puzzled look on her face, waiting for him to speak.

"I miss you." He said in a soft voice.

She was silent for a moment, her eyes locked onto his. "You see me every day." There seemed to be a question in her voice.

"It's painful." He confessed. "Having you so close and not being able to…"

She was silent, looking as though she was trying hard not to allow her emotions to escape.

"I miss you." He said again, reaching out slowly and just barely taking her hand. He raised it to his lips, closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her fingers.

"Sir." She pleaded. "Please don't."

"If you ask me to leave, I will. I'll never bring it up again." He pressed his lips to her hand again. "Please don't ask me to leave." He whispered.

"Sir…" She felt herself being pulled to him, as though by a magnet. Her hand touched his cheek as his raised to caress hers. "Jack..." She didn't try to get away. If anything, she leaned closer to him. He pressed his forehead against hers and slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. "We shouldn't."

"No, we shouldn't." He said softly. "But I just I don't give a shit."

Sam laughed and pulled him into a loose hug, her head resting on his shoulder. They swayed there on the spot for a long moment until Jack pulled free to look into her eyes. He led her to the living room and to the couch, never once losing eye contact. Once they were seated, he pulled her against him and she nestled her head into his shoulder again, her hand resting on his chest, a finger tracing lazy circles.

Jack closed his eyes and savored the feel of her. Her skin against his. Her warmth. Her touch. Whatever happened next didn't matter. Her touch was all he needed.