A/N – This one-shot is intended to supplement Chapters 6 and 7 of my story The Fountain, though there's no need read that first. The background is that Sam and Jack have been imprisoned in a rough holding cell in the ground and have been told they are going to be sacrificed as part of a terrible ritual the following day.

Takes place late Season 4 or early Season 5. M for a reason, so mind the rating.

A Room of a Different Sort

"Carter, I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Jack grunted, holding onto his Second's ankles. She was currently standing on his shoulders in an attempt to reach the hole in the ceiling. Jack hadn't seen much point given the size of the rock that was covering the opening of the pit that served as their holding cell, but Sam had seemed almost desperate to try and reach it.

"I'm almost there..."

She stretched upwards, and Jack felt her stance shift. He gripped her ankles harder. "Carter..."

"Got it!" She yelled. Standing on her tip toes, she tried to push against the rock with the palms of her hands. Even standing on his shoulders, though, she was too short to get any real leverage and so completely lost her balance. She fell to the ground with a thud.

"Carter!" Jack knelt beside her. "Are you hurt?"

She looked up at him. "Only my pride." Jack grimaced and held out his hand to help her up. Once on her feet, she bowed her head for a minute, then met his eyes. "We're not getting out of here, are we, sir?"

Jack sighed and ran his hands through his hair, deciding it was no use mincing words. "No." He narrowed his eyes and studied her closely. He wasn't sure he had ever seen her look so distraught. "Hey," he began, his voice softer now, "we've been in tighter situations before."

She looked straight at him, challenging him. "Have we?"

"Sure," he replied quickly, but when she looked at him expectedly, it caught him off guard. He mentally scrambled, trying to think up some examples. He snapped his fingers. "There was Antarctica and, um," he hesitated, then continued, "when Thor's ship was attacked by Replicators and...," he paused again, and a look of pride crossed his face when he thought of yet another example, "and the time we were trapped on Apophis' battleship when those stupid arm bands stopped working-" Jack stopped abruptly, as Sam's eyes got as big as saucers.

Oh, crap. They didn't talk about that. That was supposed to stay locked in a room. Jack swallowed hard, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

Sam held his gaze for several seconds before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "At least we're not separated by a force field this time."

Jack's heart leapt into his throat. "Right," he said softly, and he hoped his voice didn't betray his uncertainty with the situation. He considered his next move for awhile before coming to a conclusion. "C'mere," he said finally, and he reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. She nuzzled his chest, and he put his head on top of hers. For just a moment, he closed his eyes and forgot about everything other than their embrace.

"So, you think we'll get out of this one, sir?" she finally mumbled into his shirt.

He pulled back a bit to look at her and cupped her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Youbetcha," he whispered, with as much conviction as he could muster.

As he continued to hold her gaze, he realized that this is what he had wanted to do when she was trapped behind that force field. He also knew that they were moving rapidly into forbidden territory, but suddenly he just couldn't bring himself to care. His eyes drifted to her lips, and before he had time to give any further thought to the ramifications of his actions, he leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss started out gently, but rapidly progressed to something much more heated, as she responded with an intensity that both surprised and thrilled him. Warning bells sounded somewhere in the back of his mind, letting him know he was close to losing all control. With a herculean effort, he broke the kiss and backed away.

Damn it! He wasn't supposed to let that happen. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Carter...this isn't...we're not..." he began, fumbling over his words as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say.

"Jack." The use of his first name brought him up short. He looked directly at her and was surprised to see that she was completely calm. She took a deep breath. "If our biggest problem tomorrow is that we've violated the regs tonight, I'm going to count it as a good day."

He gaped at her, momentarily unable to process what she had just said. Slowly, he began to understand. He huffed. It was hard to argue with that logic, and as usual, she was way ahead of him. He gave her a slight smile.

"Right," he said for the second time. Then he cradled her face with both hands and brought his lips to hers once again. After a moment, though, Jack pulled back from the kiss once more, duty still warring with desire. He leaned his forehead against hers.

They had had many close calls during their service together, but as the years progressed, their emotions seemed to inch closer and closer to the surface, to the point now they were occasionally breaking through.

Like the zatarc disaster, Jack thought, where they'd essentially had no choice but to confess their love for one another. Oh, they had been careful not to use those words and had hastily agreed to live under the delusion that it never happened, but they both knew it was impossible to unring that bell.

And then there had been their time together on the ice planet, when they'd had their identities taken from them. They had never discussed it. Not once. As far as he knew, neither of them had told a living soul just how close Jonah and Thera had become.

The truth was they'd crossed every single line out there, and then some.

Jack knew, the moment they'd remembered who they were and she'd looked up at him with her big, blue eyes and called him "sir," he had to lock that experience in the room and throw away the key. But it didn't stop the memories from drifting across his mind from time to time, memories of the feeling of her soft body pressed to his, the smell of her skin, the erotic sounds she made as they moved together.

Apparently, she hadn't forgotten either.

"Jack, please." She practically moaned the last word, and he felt what was left of his self control dissolve completely. With an almost feral growl, he pushed her against the wall, his mouth coming down hard on hers, her hands grasping at the short silver hair on the back of his head.

His passion for her intractable now, he moved his mouth along her jawline, then down the side of her neck, and she leaned back to give him better access, a soft moan emanating from deep in her throat.

Her hands wandered from his head to his hips, and finally to his waistband. She pulled the edge of his shirt from his pants, then lifted it up and off. His dog tags, which had been caught outside of his shirt, fell back on the broad expanse of his chest with a soft clink, and she gave passing consideration to the military rules that technically prohibited them from engaging in this type of activity.

She was quickly distracted from that train of thought, though, as Jack followed her lead and lifted her shirt over her head. But instead of taking it all the way off, he trapped her arms in the garment behind her. He paused and raised his eyes to hers, and she knew immediately that he was asking permission to keep her restrained. She answered by tilting her head further back and sighing, and she realized with sudden clarity that they had mastered the fine art of communicating without words in every type of field setting.

With one hand, he undid the front clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts, which were now pushed forward by her awkward positioning. She gasped as his lips and tongue trailed from the hollow of her neck down her chest to first one nipple, then the next, sucking and rolling the hard buds with his tongue, all the while holding her arms behind her and forcing her chest up to meet his mouth.

The things he was doing to her breasts caused sharp tendrils of desire to radiate through her body, and she felt a rush a warmth at her core. But she was growing desperate to touch him, so she finally moaned his name, and he released her instantly, removing her shirt and bra at the same time.

He kissed her again, and she pressed her bare breasts to his hair roughened chest. He pulled her more tightly to him, and they reveled in the feeling of skin on skin. Their movements were becoming more urgent now, and she could feel his hard length pressing insistently against her lower belly.

Sam moved her hands down Jack's muscled back, and was momentarily awed by the sheer power of this man, a man who could take her as hard and fast as he wanted, but instead chose to move with a thoughtful purpose, just as she knew he would.

Another wave of desire passed through her. God, but she wanted nothing more than to feel him moving inside of her, stretching and filling her, thrusting against all of her most erotic spots.

Her hands traveled to his hips again, then she moved one around to palm the bulge at the front of his pants. She stoked his length once, twice, and his attention to her lips faltered. Now it was his turn to groan. Quickly, she undid the buttons of his BDUs, then slipped both his pants and underwear off his hips to pool at his feet.

Somehow, he'd managed to kick off his boots, followed quickly by his pants. Naked now, he pulled back from her for a moment, and she was able to appreciate his tightly muscled form, his cock fully erect and waiting for her. She involuntarily whimpered at the sight, an ache starting to build as she imagined him burying himself inside her.

During their time on the ice planet, they had never had the luxury of unfettered time or total privacy. Their exploration of each other's bodies had taken place under the cover of heavy orange uniforms, and their coupling, as passionate as it had been, was quiet and hurried. At the time, they had believed it was all they could ever have, and they were grateful for it.

Now, though their circumstances were still less than ideal, at least they had the night completely to themselves. By unspoken agreement, they were taking full advantage of that fact.

He immediately began to maneuver her toward a bench of moss-covered stone in the corner of the cell. More gently than she would have thought possible, he lowered her down onto the bench and began kissing her slowly, all the way from her lips, down the long column of her neck, to her chest, taking each breast fully in his mouth and sucking softly, as his fingers worked the buttons on her BDUs.

By now, her breathing was erratic, and she wondered if he wanted her to beg, his hands right there but refusing to touch her. "Please," she panted, deciding it would be far better to give in, lest she spontaneously combust. But he ignored her, his lips moving down her torso toward her stomach, while his hands pushed her pants and now damp panties off her hips and down her legs.

She gasped when he sat back and took each foot in his hands, undoing the laces on her boots and sliding them off her feet. He sat up on his knees and pulled her pants and panties off in one swift movement. Like him, she was completely naked now, and her breath hitched when he put his hands on her knees and gently pushed them apart.

She had never been so completely exposed before, and she was both terrified and more aroused than she could ever remember. His hands moved up her legs, stroking her inner thighs as he reached the apex. Using his thumbs, he parted her folds, and then she gasped as his tongue traveled her length, landing and remaining on her most sensitive spot.

Mercilessly, he attacked the small bud with his lips and tongue, and Sam felt herself rapidly approaching climax. She grabbed his wrist, just as he was preparing to insert a single digit.

"No," she said, gasping as she tried to maintain control, "I want all of you."

Still holding his wrist, she pulled him up her body, and he came willingly, finally settling his large frame on top of hers. He brought his hand to her face and began brushing damp tendrils of hair off her face. As he gazed down at her, she saw that his eyes were glazed with intense desire, mingled with something else that made her breath hitch. He began gently moving his hard length against her slick folds, and she let out a low moan that he captured with his mouth.

Slowly, he pushed himself inside of her, and she gasped as her body adjusted to his size. Almost immediately, he began thrusting inside of her. His lips moved from her mouth to her ear. "God, Sam," he moaned.

Sighing and panting, they moved against each other as if they had been doing this for years, and faster than she would have thought possible, he brought her back to the brink of ecstasy. She tried to relax, to draw out the moment of her release, but it immediately became clear that he was in complete control. Feeling her tightening around him, he increased the speed and power of his movements. "Come for me, Sam," he whispered, and it was all the invitation she needed. His next thrust sent her over the edge, and she cried out as waves of intense pleasure overwhelmed her.

He was moving faster now, his own release imminent, and as she finally came down from her high, she had the presence of mind to grip him tightly, both inside and out. His movements soon became erratic, and with a single exclamation to a higher power, he emptied himself inside of her.

She still had her hands fisted in the short strands of his silvering hair, when he brought his face down to hers and kissed her gently. She smiled up at him and moved her hands to his back where she trailed her fingers up and down his spine.

"At least I'll die a happy woman," she breathed in his ear.

"Not gonna happen," he replied.

She stilled her hands. "How can you be so sure?"

He smiled at her and brushed her nose with his. "Because there's no way in hell that's the last time we're doing that."

The End