A/N
Written for TamaraJagellovsk, but she has graciously given permission for me to post it here for y'all to see too :-) so I hope you enjoy.
As usual I don't own em.
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She looked at her watch. It had been fifteen minutes since she came through the event horizon into...this. She looked around. Whatever...this, was. At first she couldn't figure out how he'd gotten there before her when she'd been the first one through. Then the others never came after her. And the gate still hadn't shut down. It had worried her at first as she clutched her P90 tightly, but before long a feeling she couldn't quite explain came over her. The feeling, no the certainty that she would be okay, that no harm would come to her here.
She blew out a breath and looked at her watch again. How could it have been only two minutes since she'd last checked the time!? She glanced in his direction to find those intense chocolate eyes still trained on her, still telling her things she so desperately wanted to hear, but could never know, and she silently thanked...God? Physics? The Ancients? That a wormhole couldn't be sustained beyond thirty eight minutes. Thirty eight minutes before she could dial out and get the hell out of this place. Thirty eight minutes of resisting what was quickly becoming a nearly irresistible Jack O'Neill...God, the way he was looking at her made her insides twist. She wondered once again what this place could be, and as she became increasingly aware of his presence, the closest she could figure? Alien fantasy factory...
She checked her watch again. She'd made it through twenty minutes, only eighteen to go...
Sam fought the urge to look at him, but found her gaze drawn to him. And damn that smug smirk that sat so sensually on those lips. Those lips...lips that she'd dreamed about...while both asleep and awake. Her breathing hitched when his tongue slipped out to run across them, leaving them slightly parted and...wet...
Unbidden her own lips parted, air rushing between them in shallow breathy pants. God she wanted him...and at the slight upturn of his mouth at that exact moment she wondered if he couldn't somehow read her thoughts.
Her eyes tracked his hand as it slowly came up to rub lightly at his stubbled chin, his thumb dragging across his bottom lip and too late she realised the low moan she heard had come from her own mouth. Then her thoughts, her whole mind was filled with images of his mouth. His mouth on hers, on her neck, his tongue playing across the hollow of her throat. His hands pushing her shirt up, his teeth latching onto...
She shook her head trying to pull her focus back to something real and away from...him. She looked at him again. No matter how she tried to resist she couldn't help it. He'd moved closer, close enough for her to reach out and touch now. And how she wanted to do just that. Reach out her hands, rest them on his shoulders, run them down over his chest. His chest that was always so well defined by their standard black t-shirts like the one he was wearing right now. Was he wearing that before?
Sam blinked and was startled to find her hands exactly where she'd just imagined them and before she could stop herself she let her palms smooth down over his taught stomach. She felt his hands on her shoulders drawing her into him and she relaxed her arms and let him pull her against his hard chest. She looked up and met his eyes, his hand coming up to her cheek as he leaned into her and her heart slammed so hard against her ribs she thought she'd burst. Something was niggling at her, way in the very back part of her brain. Something that told her this wasn't him, this couldn't be him. But she was looking at him with her own two eyes and it sure as hell seemed like him. But if it wasn't him, it'd be okay right? She wasn't breaking any regulations if it wasn't really him. It never even occurred to her to be afraid of him.
She felt him snake an arm around her waist and he was pulling her against another part of him that was...oh so blissfully hard...and she squirmed against him in response.
She brought her arms up around his neck as his lips went to her throat, his mouth hot and wet on her skin. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She opened them and caught sight of her watch. Thirty three minutes, she thought, but she didn't know why. Five minutes popped into her head and she knew that was somehow important. That...what? Thirty eight minutes should mean something...but as his calloused hand pushed up under her shirt she couldn't for the life of her think why she should care. He tweaked a hard nipple and her knees buckled slightly causing her to sag against him...
Thirty eight minutes...his hand started to lightly knead her breast as his mouth moved over her collarbone. Thirty eight minutes...she turned her face into his neck, her tongue sneaking out to taste him...
Then their shimmering blue backlight disappeared and everything went black.
Thirty eight minutes, her brain screamed. And in the darkness some of her higher brain function returned. Find the DHD and dial home...
She clicked on the flashlight that sat on her tac vest and looked around. He was gone. Whoever, whatever he was...was gone...
She frowned slightly wondering if he'd ever really been there in the first place.
She dialled the gate and entered her IDC as soon as the wormhole established. She cast a last glance around hoping to...see him? Not see him?
Shaking her head slightly she moved into the shimmering light breathing a sigh of relief as she stepped out the other side. Thirty eight minutes...she'd managed to resist a completely irresistible Jack O'Neill for thirty eight minutes. She flushed at the thought of his mouth and his hands on her. Okay, I mostly resisted him...but we could've done one helluva lot more in thirty eight minutes...
"Carter! You wanna tell me what the hell just happened?" Jack snapped at his 2IC as she stepped back through the gate, his annoyed tone caused not by anger but by his extreme relief that she was back and seemed okay.
"I...I'm not exactly sure Sir..." she stammered, realising with something akin to horror, that all the feelings that the pseudo Colonel Jack O'Neill had caused in her still raged inside when she looked at the real one.
"Go see Doc Fraiser and then we can debrief," he ordered, frowning slightly at the strangled little sound she made at his words.
She nodded and kept her eyes on the ground as she moved past him, startled when she felt his hand on her arm.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"I'm fine Sir," she replied, moving on when he released her, but she knew she was far from it.
Screw thirty eight minutes...if he touches me again...I'm not sure I'll be able to last for thirty eight seconds...
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A/N
Marked complete as this was only ever supposed to be a little one shot, but I may be reconsidering. So should she tell him what the hell just happened? Lemme know :-)
Also as usual I'd love for you to let me know what you thought :-)