I have in my hand a ticket to paradise--sort of. It's a bulletin announcing that I must report to the infirmary to receive my annual flu shot.
Joy.
But, there's the one in a million chance that the on duty personnel will include a certain titan-haired libido goddess, so I haul my bony ass up and head down, hoping against all hope. If I must get a needle today, please let it be one handled by Gillian MacKenzie, and not "Rammer" Frasier--not that I'm tender-skinned, but the woman enjoys needlepoint on my ass WAY too much as it is.
I step through the door, cool and casual, sucking in my gut and looking impressively handsome--who am I kidding. A quick peek and I'm in luck as I recognize the spectacular gams of my dreams. Oooh baby. In the words of ZZ Top, She's Got Legs.
I hope she knows how to use them, and I would die for the chance to find out.
Gillian was standing in the center of the room, writing in a clipboard. She was decked out in her uniform and white coat, her hair tied up neatly in a bun. There had been people filing in and out of the infirmary all day getting their shots and for various other ailments. She sighed as she finished her scribbling and closed the clipboard. The sound of boots got her attention and she turned around to see the tall lanky head honcho of SG-1.
"Afternoon Colonel, come for your annual poke in the butt?"
"My goodness, is Senator Kinsey here?" I demand. Okay, it's not the wittiest thing I've ever said, but she flashes me a quick grin, and I'm happy for the moment. Call me a sap, but I LIKE her smile.
"No, but if that's what you want--" she purrs.
I shake my head and come in closer. "Nice perfume--"
"Thanks--it's Phisoderm," she replied, prepping a needle the size of the Washington monument.
Oh this is not good. I clear my throat.
"I know I'm not a doctor, but aren't flu shots given in the ARM?" I demand pointedly. I'm staring at her hair. I shouldn't of course, but it's such a lovely color--
The nurse practitioner shook her head, sighing. "Sadly no, I'm sorry Colonel but the magic liquid in this needle has to absorb through fat, and the rump is a perfect place to give it." Her face pinkened slightly and she cleared her throat. "I'm going to have to ask you to drop your pants, sir."
How I've longed to hear that--but not in this setting of course-- I sigh, dramatically to cover up my nervousness and hope to hell I have clean underwear on. I should, right? I did laundry--
She waiting patiently, needle high, a small grin on her mouth and I'm wasting time.
"Um, right--" I manage and turning to face away from her, unbuckle, fumble, lose my grip, try to catch and
Oh shit. Yes I dropped them, and it's a Commando day.
The young woman gasped, her eyes widening slightly as she cleared her throat, trying incredibly hard to be cool about the completely uncovered backside totally in her view. "Laundry day?" She asked; her voice cracking slightly as she took an alcohol pad out of her pocket and tore it open. She gently rubbed one hip as she set the used pad aside and put a pair of gloves on her hands. "You're going to feel a stick Colonel." Gillian pinched the skin of the colonel's upper hip area and gently sunk the needle into it.
I am praying like I have never prayed in my life. An earthquake. An invasion of Goa'uld. Hell, even Janet sailing in would be enough to end this hellish embarrassment. Caught, literally with my pants down in front of the ONE woman I want to impress.
Obviously I screwed with some Karma God on one on the missions and he's getting even.
How to cover? How to cope--hell, how to recover the damn pants without mooning her as well? This is NOT covered in the manual!
She's turning away, giving me that one shot at dignity, and I could kiss her for it-- I grab the damned trousers, haul them up, stuff it back in and zip. Got the situation covered, right? Back to normal, life is fine-- Until I hear the next thing she says.
"You didn't answer the question Colonel, is it your laundry day or are you a nudist at heart?" Gillian turned back around, grateful her face was beginning to return to its normal hue, just as her patient's was beginning to redden. She couldn't help but smile at the blushing colonel.
"Either way your secret is safe with me."
I rub my face, trying to buy time and keep some sense of humor, but it's getting to be too much.
"Sorry, but that's classified," I mutter. "Unless you're willing to accompany me on a top secret mission to the murky depths of my garage and liberate my BVD's."
Why the hell did I say that? A frigging LAUNDRY date? I have got to be the most pathetic moron in history. Who in their right mind tries to set up a LAUNDRY date?
Lightning bolt now please, to go--just fry me right here--
The nurse practitioner was surprised; both her eyebrows went up briefly. "Oh, well...I don't know if I have that kind of clearance Colonel. I don't even have any Special Ops training to rescue underwear. But I really appreciate the offer, some other time perhaps."
Gillian swallowed hard, still partially stunned that the tough-as-nails officer had asked her out. She cleared her throat, rubbing her hand over her mouth. "Maybe we can do something other than free imprisoned boxers."
A ray of sunshine breaks through the heavens. I DO believe, Santa, thank you! I clear my throat and manage an impassive face, looking down at the woman with the raised eyebrow. I can do this you know--look imposing if I try.
I try.
"Ah. Yeah, sure--something other---steak appeal to ya?"
The nurse practitioner smiled, feeling somewhat relieved that the embarrassment between them had seemed to evaporate. "Steak? Sure I love a good steak. When and where Colonel?"
Gillian was playing with her the pockets of her lab coat, a sure sign of her nervousness as she stared into the face of her patient. "Any time would be good for me; all I basically do is sleep and work."
Sleep and work. Sounds familiar. I run through a list of potential places to take this woman. Oh! Strike that--taking this woman comes later--no dessert before steak, thank you. Hmmmm. Maybe the Wrangler Grill. Good food, and these tiny little booths, so small that a certain amount of touching is always happening. Oh yeah, definitely the Wrangler. At the very least I can feed her well, and get on her good side.
Although from my point of view, all her sides are good sides, and believe me, I've scrutinized them all, repeatedly.
Gillian was watching the wheels turning in the colonel's head, she was sure he was thinking of some grand fancy place to take her. "You know I'm not one for really overpriced fancy smancy dining, just some place that'll have good food and you won't have to give up all your big colonel dollars to take me." Her smile got wider. "I'm not that kind of girl." The words seem to hang in the air and what they implied suddenly dawned on the young woman. Her dark eyes grew wide and her hand touched her mouth briefly. "Oh! I uh...I didn't mean it that way." Her face once more took on a bright red hue.
Oh my--she's blushing, how damned cute. Of course she's that kind of girl--with a body like that she's completely BUILT to be that kind of girl--she just chooses not to be. Well let's be kind and nod--
"Never thought you were--how about the Wrangler?"
Say yes. Say yes, tonight, and I'll even wear a clean shirt for ya, sweetie. And shave. And underwear.
Maybe.
"The Wrangler?" Gillian's eyebrows went up. "I've never been there but I've heard about it, always wanted to try it." She checked her watch, it was almost four. "The mountain closes in an hour; you can come get me at seven." Her eyes lifted to once more look at the colonel. "Unless tonight's too soon for you."
"It's never too soon for steak and you--"
Oh shit, way to go, O'Neill---you'll have to blame the shot for your complete conversion to village idiot. Let's hope she's too busy pitying you to even think about the implications of that LAST part.
"Seven it is--"
Gallant, smooth--just keep in mind you showed this cutie your wrinkled old buns and maybe that will kill the smirk off your face--
And one last look--oh she's sweet--round in the right places, long in the other ones, gonna be fun to find out if she's up for tight quarters with me tonight--
And that's just at the steakhouse.
The time on her nightstand clock read that it was ten minutes 'til seven, and this made the young woman start to get nervous. She was standing in front of her dresser looking over her outfit carefully. Gillian was dressed in a short jean skirt and a white long sleeve peasant blouse that was tied together with a leather tie in the front. She sighed as she picked up her hair brush and gave her loose hair one last brushing, trying not to think about the time or the fact that Colonel Jack O'Neill was taking her out to dinner. For the first time in a long time she actually had a date. The doorbell rang; startling her and she quickly set her brush down, checked to make sure her lipstick was all right and went to get the door.
So I'm standing here on a porch with flowers. Sheesh! Not roses of course, too much for an occasion like this.
Just daisies. Nice innocent daisies, see? Just being thoughtful, not planning on anything wicked. Um, at the moment anyway. Shaved, somewhat tidy except for the baseball cap, but what the heck.
Why the heck am I nervous? I've killed men, done terrible deeds, seen Maybourne naked--don't ask--so why the sweaty palms?
Hmmmmm. Because I am a SAP with a CRUSH is probably the right answer. A SUCKER for a redhead.
Come on Gill, answer the door already!!
Gillian took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she opened the wooden door. There stood the colonel, all decked out in civvies, jeans and a blue shirt. She couldn't help but smile at the small bouquet of daisies in his hands.
"Hi..." Gillian unlocked the wrought iron door and stepped back as she opened it. "Won't you come in?"
"Here."
Oh smooth, that--like I was planning on keeping them for myself--Sheesh! She's laughing, but hey, it could have been worse.
Nice outfit! Knee to knee is going to be fun tonight--ah and her hair is down, glory be! Wow, really red. Really nice. Oh, wanna touch it.
"Like your hair--"
Oh that got a smile. Good. At least I can state the obvious and get some help here. What is she, twenty seven or so? Oh Jack, don't go there--
"Thank you, for both the flowers and the compliment." Gillian felt her face flush a little; she always seemed to blush around this man. "Do you want to go or can I offer you something first?"
The young woman watched the colonel's eyes widen a little and she realized what she said and how she said it. Gillian closed her eyes and shook her head, not only did she constantly blush around the colonel but she also said the stupidest things.
"I'll just go put these in some water really quick." She excused herself and headed for the kitchen.
"Nah I'm good--"
Okay O'Neill calm down and for God's sake remember to open the doors! This isn't the mountain and this isn't Carter, who gets all pissy if you even DARE try to be courteous--and stop smiling at that last remark.
At least TRY.
Woohoo, perfume! Looks like I'm not the ONLY one trying to make an impression--wow. Nice stuff. I wonder where she wears it? Behind her ears? On her shoulders? Behind her knees? On her navel--Woooooo, okay, calm down, no thinking about her knees or her navel, which is probably cute as hell and . . . . Ahem!
"Ah, shall we go?"
Before Mr. Happy embarrasses the hell out of me?
"Okay, let me get my purse." Gillian came out of the kitchen with a small tan purse that she put on her shoulder. The time she used to put her flowers in some water also gave her face a chance to calm down along with her nerves.
O'Neill was standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face. He seemed perfectly calm and Gillian found herself wishing she felt like that. How could he be so cool and collected when there were bats currently flying around inside her stomach? She walked over to him and cleared her throat. "Ready to go Colonel, if you are that is."
"Okay--"
Push the door open, smile, try not to peek down the blouse, fail, peek anyway, give innocent smile, follow her out. Watch her sweet ass and swallow hard--
Boy, I'm really with the program tonight. What the hell IS it about this woman that's getting under my skin? She's gorgeous, and funny, and sweet, and Oh my----will you LOOK at those legs! Climb up into the truck and flash those gams for papa! Yeah!
Shit, this is NOT good. Think hockey. Think paperwork. Think about Junior--
"Buckled up?"
What, she's a three year old now? Sheesh, hold it together O'Neill! Alright, drive. Be a good boy and stop peeking at the legs. Drive. Yes, you can do it. She's looking at you--what?
"Yeah, I'm all strapped in." Gillian is looking at the man sitting next to her. "Ummm, since we're not on the base and all, would it be all right if I just called you Jack?" She smiled, seeing the nice one suddenly blooming on O'Neill's face. "I mean... if that's okay with you." She crossed her legs, pulling down the end of her skirt a little over her knee.
"Yes, Jack. Jack and Gill--ouch."
I can see her nod, trying not to laugh, we both do it anyway and damn it feels GOOD. Okay, some of the tension is gone now. Gill it is, Gill, Gillian, yeah you betcha. She's smiling again, and tugging the skirt down, but it's not staying--sweet.
"I hope to God you're not a vegetarian, because this place has enough meat to reconstruct every animal on the Ark--" I warn her as we pull into the parking lot. It's not too crowded, and we're close to the front. Do the Gentleman thing and open the door--what a look! I guess she's not used to this. Truth be told, I'm not either, but I was raised right, so she'll just have to take it. After all, I wanna see those legs again. I'm pathetic, but I'm persistent too.
"Oh no, I'm not a vegetarian Col- Jack, I'm as carnivorous as they come. Which probably explains why I'm not as thin as I probably should be for Air Force standards." Gillian sighed, feeling a little less nervous now as she got out of her side of the truck and O'Neill closed the door behind her.
The Wrangler Grill looked like something Paul Bunyan built himself; it was basically a tan log cabin that was lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Wow...nice place." Gillian was looking at it as the couple made their way to the door.
"Looks aren't everything---after all, you're going out with ME," I have to shoot back. She's looking indignant, which is totally cute. Yeah it was a play for a little pity. Now she's giving me the argument that I'm rugged too--
Hmmm? Sort of listening, but mostly crowding behind her as we make our way up to the Headwaiter station and see if we'll get a booth before the next administration takes office.
Man her hair smells wonderful--and it's soft. I wonder if she's noticed I'm sort of--um burrowing in here--
"How many in your party?"
"Two--we're not into the kinky stuff--"
Damn mouth--God, if she doesn't laugh I'm such dead meat--
Gillian raised an eyebrow. "At least not yet."
She said it with such a matter of fact tone that the Headwaiter could do nothing more than look at her wide eyed and give her a nod as he left in search of a booth. As soon as he was gone, Gillian looked at her date and shot him a wink. "I'm sorry, couldn't resist. It was all your fault I said that."
Nice recovery! Although truth to tell, I'm NOT in the mood to share. At least not Gill, Ahem.
We stand there, and I nudge her, pointing with my chin to the menu posted on the wall. She wanders over to it, and I have to follow, keeping a nice contact with her shoulders.
"Mmmmmmmm---Meeeeeeatttt--" I do my best Homer Simpson. She snorts, running a finger down the entrees, and I watch her lick her lips.
Hey, I'd be happy to do that for you, Gill--trust me, it would be--
Ah Pierre the headwaiter's back looking like he's been goosed. "If you will follow me---"
We're off and I'm praying for a tiny booth.
Gillian was walking in between the two men. Pierre led them through the semi-darkened restaurant; the theme of it was sort of early American. The walls were plain, nothing on them but the neatly stacked up logs. There was a massive fireplace in the middle and a few strategically placed Franklin stoves mostly for decorative purposes. The wooden floor creaked as they walked in between the dark wood tables, making their way over to a secluded booth, tucked far away from the others that outlined the room.
Pierre was dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a navy blue shirt and matching tie. He was an older man with neatly combed salt and pepper hair and a thin hollow face; he eyed the couple as he stood beside the booth.
"Here we are." Pierre leaned over and took a lighter out of his pocket. There was a small hurricane lamp in the middle of the table that was fitted with a candle. He lifted up the glass and lit the candle, replaced the glass and carefully moved it over to one side.
Gillian took her purse off her shoulder and slid into the side, taking the menu that was handed to her. "Thank you."
"I would be happy to bring you a bottle of wine, or perhaps you would prefer to choose one yourself?" Pierre handed a smaller menu to Jack and stood back, his hands clasped together as he anxiously waited for a decision to be made.
I look at Gill and make a snap decision: she's going to have to accept I'm not as fancy as I might actually appear.
"Um I'll have a beer, and the lady will have . . .?" I nod to her, hoping that didn't sound too presumptive.
Gillian closed her menu. "The same, please."
Pierre gives the couple a rather disapproving nod as he takes the wine list from Jack. "Someone will be with you shortly to bring you your... drinks and to take your order."
Gillian waited until the older man was out of ear shot. "Pleasant, isn't he?"
"Oh yeah--but it's so hard for a good cadaver to find a job these days--"
She laughs, a nice sound that makes me grin in return. My knees are pressing against hers under the table. I look her in the eye and sigh.
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you Gill--I've got to get around your knees. This booth is a wee bit too small for someone with ACL, so let me just brace these around the outside of yours, okay?"
She looks amused, as if she's not completely buying my excuse, but nods as I manage to shift.
Oohhh nice. Now I have her in my trap, caught between my knees, forced to feel my thighs for most of the night.
I'm SUCH a dog, I should be wearing a collar, woof, woof. Time to think about food, instead of those luscious legs between mine. I'm grinning again.
"Knees feel better Jack or do you need a rub down when we get back to my house?"
The young woman squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her head into her menu. She did it again, opened her mouth and inserted her foot. She finally raised her head after several seconds, not sure exactly how her date was going to take what she said.
I blink at her. Was that a Doctor line or a date line? Judging by the pink on her face, I think it was somewhere in the middle, poor kid. Better blow it off and let her stop blushing.
"Don't tell me--you're in that damned pool Carter set up--the one about where I'm going to get shot next. I put myself down for the ass, since it's overdue anyway."
A good save. I think--she's peeking over the top of the menu, and her eyes are twinkling so we may be all right.
"I want something hot and pink and edible--" "---from the grill--" I finish in a hurry.
Shit, this stupid remark thing is catching!
The beer arrived, the waitress handed her a glass and promised to return to take their orders.
Gillian had a long sip, sighing as she set the glass down. "No, I'm not in that pool but if I were I'd have to agree with your location." She closed her menu and set it down on the table as she studied the man sitting across from her. "I'm sorry I keep stepping on my tongue, I'm nervous." The words came out of her mouth, as if by accident and she shook her head. "See? I can't believe I just admitted that."
Hey a God given opportunity to take her hand! I do, easily because hers are small and it feels nice.
"Don't be nervous. Just because I outrank you, I have your knees between mine and I think you're a hottie of the first magnitude--just try to ignore all that and focus on the real issue here--are we getting soup or salad and if it's soup can I have your crackers?"
It works, she's laughing and I feel better myself.
Poor kid's nervous. Sheesh! I need to work on my non-intimidation skills. Gill's now threatening me with a breadstick. I can handle that.
"What do you want, Red?"
Uh oh--I MAY have just undone all my good work here--
Gillian leaned back a little and grinned. "Red? I haven't been called that since I was eight." She took a bite of the breadstick and offered it to O'Neill, who took it from her and began eating it. "I want the soup and the smothered steak." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I'll try not to be nervous but I can't help it. Ever since I started working on the mountain, you've been making me nervous and I really don't think it has anything to do with your rank."
Oh yes, keep buttering up my ego--God I should get this on tape and leave it where Carter could--never mind. I have better things to do, like figure out how to turn this to my complete advantage.
"So you have the serious hots for me?" I offer mildly, FORCING my face to stay mildly interested instead of grinning insanely. She's choking now, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm making her laugh or scaring her. Cautiously I push the water goblet towards her.
"Gill? If you die on the first date, it kind of works against me here--"
Worse, Great, at this point I'm going to have to Heimlich her, and--
Okay, she's okay. A little flushed but no more choking. I love the way her eyes look right now, all bright and soft.
"I'm nervous too--" It just comes out. I look at my hands on the table. "I, ah, don't actually date . . . much. At all, really--"
Oh dear God, PATHETIC, O'NEILL! Might as well hang the big I'm divorced and Bewildered sign around my damned neck!
Ah, just what we need--the waitress--
Gillian saw the annoyed face of her date. She too wasn't happy with the waitress' sense of timing. The couple gave her their order and as soon as she left the young woman reached out and touched the large hand across from hers.
"Jack...the answer to your question is yes. I do have the hots for you." Gillian gave his hand a small squeeze.
Well, I wonder where my brain went? I'm smiling, and Gill's sitting there waiting while my mind makes a nice long trip to Gonesville and back.
"You're not just saying that to get out of the appetizer ARE you?" I finally manage in a dazed voice. She giggles, and I can't believe the rush through my system.
Oh yeah--the Hots--alert the media, Jack's definitely IN THE HOUSE!!
Of course it might help if I stop with the death grip on her fingers and maybe if I stop grinning like an idiot, and--
Nahhhhhhhhhh
Gillian finally put the lid on her giggling. She felt a whole lot better and gently curled her small fingers in between Jack's. His hand was completely enveloping hers and the warmth of his skin was soothing and oddly comforting. "I'm not trying to get out of the appetizer Jack." A small grin appeared on her lips. "Although what I said sounded a lot like dessert." The young woman picked up her glass and had another sip of her beer. She cleared her throat, the strong tang of the beer still burning in her mouth.
Jack said nothing, simply watching her and she tried not to let those piercing eyes of his make her nervousness flare back up. "Did that seem kind of bold of me to admit? That I like you?"
"Nah, for crying out loud, we're on a date--you can't be so hard up for a steak dinner you'd go out with someone you DIDN'T like, right?"
Not only a hottie, but one with good taste! This must be the flipside of the Commando episode earlier--although I DO have underwear on at the moment.
And I still get to hold her hand too--at least until dinner comes or she gets suspicious here.
I AM the king, Woo Ha!
"Oh good...I was worried about that." Gillian looked down at their entwined hands and grinned. She could feel her face burning yet again. "I wish I would quit blushing like this, if this keeps up my face might be permanently red." She lifted her eyes to meet O'Neill's. "You know how really weird this is? I mean, seeing you around the mountain pretty regularly and wondering to myself all kinds of little things and suddenly here we are."
"Yep."
Okay, she probably needs more than that, O'Neill--make with the nice comments!
"Little things? Like Ginger or Mary Anne? Vanilla or Chocolate? Less Filling or Tastes Great sorts of things?"
Okay, that's a helluvan expression--I don't suppose any of those made sense to her--Hmmmmm
"Shoot, Red--what little things?"
"Well you're in the right ballpark. The first thing I really wondered is what you look like in a pair of jeans. Every time I see you you're in uniform, or khaki." She licked her lips and pressed them together. "Or what your house must look like." She looked down at their hands again. "What would it be like to hold your hand?" She started laughing suddenly and covered her mouth briefly. "But a few of my innocent little wonderings just might get me in trouble."
"No more than mine, I guess--" I guilessly throw back, and I can feel my dimples, curse them.
She's cute. She's SOO damned cute. Does she have any idea how a man thinks? Sheesh--I better get this one out of the pool before the REAL sharks move in--I'm surprised Ferretti or Makepeace haven't shown up.
"For the record the jeans aren't bad, the house is a modest tract, and the hand holding is pretty nice."
"Of course, that's only my opinion, although Janet tells me I'm getting heavy, and the crabgrass is taking over the side lawn--"
Ooooh dinner! Do I have an appetite?
Gillian leaned back while the waitress put her plate down in front of her; the steak was a whole lot bigger than she thought. "One whole cow gave its life for the sake of my dinner." She watched as a basket of bread was placed between them and with dinner delivered the waitress was gone once again.
She picked up her knife and fork, not exactly sure where to begin. She chose a nice corner and began to cut into her steak.
"Janet thinks you're getting heavy? I don't think so, I've seen most of the men in that mountain without their clothes and I can honestly say you're in a lot better shape then most of them."
"Ahem--Ah. Thanks---"
Try to be polite, try not to cut your own fingers as you fumble with the knife and most of all try not to think of Gill eyeing and COMPARING anything--
Better, huh? Oh I could prove it, trust me, Gill, but that comes later, after I've finagled my way into your good graces and ah, other things. I've got patience.
At least for you--this steak, however, is obviously on its way to leatherhood. Geez! Okay, make with the puppy eyes and sigh a little.
"Mine's tough--can I have a bite of yours?"
Of your anything---
Gillian looked down at her steak; it was cooked perfectly and was extremely tender. She took her knife and cut the enormous steak down the middle and gently put half of it in the middle of O'Neill's plate. "How's that? It's way too big for me. I had no idea I'd be ordering a steak the size of a man hole cover." She cut another piece of her steak and offered it to him. "Although since mine is covered with cheese, green chiles and onions, you might want to try a sample first."
"Chiles and onions, huh? I guess that pretty much kills the goodnight kiss--" I blurt, like the dipshit I am. Her eyes shoot up to mine.
I'm blushing. Crap, crap, crap--I'm forty two frigging years old, special ops trained and I DON'T BLUSH.
I wonder if I could just saw my wrists now, or if I'd have to ask for a sharper knife from Pierre the walking dead headwaiter?
The red haired woman took in what he said and grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I wouldn't say that Jack. If we both eat the same thing we sort of cancel each other out." Her smile only widened when she saw the distinct red hue of a blushing face. "You know that really makes me feel good."
She could see the question marks once more in his eyes. "I didn't think I could ever make someone blush."
"You're a doctor--it's a requirement. The whole 'Turn your head and Cough' thing's pretty much the starting point--" I argue, but I'm thinking about something else.
I get to kiss her. Oh yeah. I do I heard it and I know it and she knows it and damn I get to kiss her let's just get dinner over with and get to it because even with chile and onion it's gonna be HOT--
"Although I'm not actually blushing, I'm just reacting to the chilies--pretty much."
I don't think she's buying it.
"If they were jalapenos maybe, but these are green chiles, essentially they're not hot at all." Gillian couldn't help but laugh. "And as for the whole turn your head and cough thing, most of the time it's me not anyone else that's blushing." She wiped her mouth with the napkin and set it back in her lap. "I was even red this afternoon when..." She paused in mid sentence and cleared her throat. "When you lost your pants." The last part of her statement was nice and low and Gillian prayed hard that he didn't hear it.
"I mooned you--let's just get the facts straight, okay? Not my most shining hour, and yeah, it was funny, but God!" I laugh. "I was worried you said yes to the date just because I couldn't possibly sink any lower in your baby browns." Honesty. I hear it works with women.
I wonder if she's going to eat those fries or not? And if she gives them to me, will she rat me out to Janet?
I wonder if SHE'S wearing underwear?
Gillian saw the colonel eyeing her fries and she slid her plate to the center of the table so they both could eat them. "I said yes to this date Jack because I like you, it made no difference to me that I got a keister shot." She smiled at O'Neill as picked up the bottle of ketchup and poured some onto the plate. "Here, help me eat these fries."
At last a sensible woman--tolerates my ass and shares her fries.
"I have an errand to run on the way back--" I apologize, "Hope you don't mind--gotta pick up some Round Up. That's a weed killer--"
And maybe some dessert--then she'd HAVE to invite me in. Can't leave me on the porch and take the stuff inside alone now can she?
Tactical move, O'Neill--keep a straight face--
"Sure, we can do that... take a trip to the hardware store." Gillian dipped a fry in the little puddle of ketchup and took a bite of it. "What about dessert? What do you prefer? Cake? Pie? Sundaes?"
She pushed the plate closer to her date and picked her napkin up and wiped her hands. The fries were a little on the greasy side and she had her fill of them. "Go ahead and finish them." She wadded up her napkin and set it down on the table as she finished up her beer.
"No thanks--I was thinking we could pick up a carton of ice cream, maybe some sugar cones--"
Shrug innocently here--try to look harmless. And leave the damn fries alone--Sheesh! Enough oil to grease Maybourne's hair for crying out loud!
Oh shit--I've eaten half HER steak! Great, O'Neill the Moocher date--fries, steak--at this rate she's gonna drop me at the door and run to her fridge!
Man what IS that perfume? Subtle, but I love it--has a little spice to it too--can't ask, that's too obvious--
"Cones okay?"
Gillian grinned widely. "We'll make our own cones... cool! I haven't done that in ages." She crossed her arms on top of the table. "That'll be great Jack, and a whole lot of fun." Her smile dropped a little. "I hope you don't mind my dinky house, it's teeny but comfortable." The smile perked back up. "I'll be glad to give you the free tour though, if you're interested."
"Sure!"
After all, even dinky houses have bedrooms, and--Watch yourself O'Neill. Nice girl--do NOT start down that alley.
"Sorry about nabbing your steak--I guess I know what to order next time--"
Next time will be steaks at MY place, and no Night of the Living Dead waiter to glare at us. Oooohhh, I can feel her thigh against mine. Nice. Nice---
"Whadda ya think? Should we blow this joint?"
"Definitely." Gillian started sliding out of the booth, picking up her purse as she stood up and putting it back over her shoulder. She adjusted her clothes a little as she followed O'Neill to the front. "Don't forget the tip Jack, zombie or not he still needs dough."
The drive over to Farmington's Drugs was uneventful; Jack had let Gill choose a radio station and they both agree that while Spanish was a lovely language it sucked as something to listen to on a drive.
Gill seemed happy enough to listen to the woes of lawn care.
"As if I don't have anything better to do than fight crabgrass--Jesus! But that's the Homeowner's Association for you--"
Hope she's not bored--ah, do the open door thing--man she's fast. Has to be the legs, sweet babies that they are. I bet they'd look great in a bathing suit--Ha!
"Start thinking flavors, Red--Chocolate? Rocky Road? Mint Peanut Butter Fudge Ripple?"
Gillian was holding her purse in her hands. "Well Pistachio Almond is my favorite, but its one of those rare flavors that's hard to find. So I usually go with Chocolate Almond or chocolate chip." She turned and looked at O'Neill. "What about you?" She leaned back and studied him. "I sort of see you as a Rocky Road man, or maybe even Cookies and Cream." Gillian couldn't help but snicker as she got a raised eyebrow from her date.
"Pistachio Almond? But you're a woman--no offence, but two nuts are for guys--"
CRAP! Me and my GODDAMNED MOUTH! Just ONCE Jack can't you drop the FRIGGIN wise cracks!!!
The sliding glass doors parted but before Gillian could step through them she turned and looked at O'Neill. "Maybe that's why I like it so much Jack." She started to laugh. "Because I don't have nuts so I have to get them any way I can." Gillian grinned widely. "Shall we get our ice cream or not?"
Ohhh love this woman--she's quick and kind--and once my blush dies down I'll get her as much damned ice cream as she wants. Hell she can have my nuts--figuratively that is--literally will take some negotiating.
"Ah. Yeah--freezer cases are over there--I gotta trot back by the Garden section--come find me when you know what you want--"
"Okay. I'll get a couple of quarts and meet you there in a few." Gillian walked through the doors and picked up a small red hand cart. She walked off in the direction of the freezers in search of ice cream.
Round Up, Round Up--Geez! Umteen billion gallons of defoliants and no damned Round Up! Should have saved some of that Agent Orange--Hmmmm. Grass seed, yeah right--snail pellets, weird ass wind chimes--Where the hell is the weed killer?
Hope she picks something with fudge. Maybe I should have said something. I LIKE fudge, especially after a crappy steak and a ton of shoe leather tonight.
Okay, next aisle I guess--oops, band aids, Ecch, Feminine protection--outta here--oops!
Definitely Wrong Aisle!
"There you are Jack, I was looking everywhere for you." Gillian was back; in her little red hand basket she had two quarts of ice cream and a bottle of Round Up. "Is this what you're looking for?" She took the bottle out and handed it to him. She looked around, suddenly realizing what aisle they were in.
The shelves were stacked high with every brand of feminine protection, hygiene and contraceptives. The couple was standing in front of a huge display of condoms.
Okay, think, Jack. Take the gorgeous woman's elbow and steer her AWAY up the aisle. Look worried and frown.
"I think I dropped my keys up here . . ."
Be calm, don't let her even THINK you were there on purpose--good job, she might just be buying it--
Oh shit, keys are right here in my hand--
Gillian stopped walking and put her hand on the large one currently gripping her arm. "Jack, you've got your keys. Wait a minute here." She turned and faced him, picking up one of the containers of ice cream. "I found Double Chocolate Fudge and Tin Roof Sundae. How do those sound?"
"Great!"
Hell, Motor oil and baby shampoo flavored would be great at this point! Crisis averted and she isn't going to think I'm a one-thing-on-my-mind guy, thank God.
"What about cones?"
Which will be at the other end of the store, FAR away from the naughty latex aisle. No cruising for condoms with you Missy--at least not until, say the fifth or six month of proving I'm a terribly decent guy. Or until YOU suggest it.
"Cones?" Gillian looked around. "Uhh...do you happen to know where they are? I'm not familiar with this store at all." She smiled. "Anything else besides the sugar cones?"
Her eyes widened briefly. "Like sprinkles or chocolate syrup, whipped cream or..." The more she spoke the worse it seemed and she tried so hard not to blush.
Oh yeah, I know THAT line of thought sweetheart! Trust me; you're not alone on the dark path!
"We'll save those for another date--"
Leer playfully and take the basket from her--be smooth, O'Neill, she's young--take her arm, stroll up to the counter--
"Good evening sir, can I help you and your daughter there?"
*&#$@%^$$ CLERK!!!!
Gillian raised both eyebrows as she looked at the young man behind the counter. "Excuse me?" She watched his eyes widen and the icy stare she was giving him made the teenager seem to shrink back from the counter. "Cones.. location? Ten words or less preferably?" The kid's name was Vick and he pointed to the far side of the store. "Grocery section...back of the store." Gillian nodded as she took Jack's arm. "Thanks." She said over her shoulder as they walked away.
I look back grinning at the poor kid and take pity.
"She's just like that in bed, too--" I call to him, watching his mouth drop open and his face go red.
HA! Eat that one, you pimple-voiced MTV freak!
Whoops--Gill is looking at me, and her face is sort of--unreadable at the moment--
I clear my throat and wait, patiently. She's just staring, but I can see the corners of her mouth going up, so I'm not in Purgatory yet I guess.
"What?" I demand defensively. She just snorts.
"Don't you think its a bit premature to be thinking like that?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him, grinning. "Although that geek deserved it."
Gillian sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry if I lost my temper, normally it takes a lot to make me mad, but apparently not tonight." They made their way over to the sugar cones and picked up a box. "How about these?"
"It's not premature, it's speculation, but you're right--the poor guy sure as hell put the ass in assumption. These cones are fine. Anything else, oh froster of teenage butts?"
Ah that got a smile--finally. Hey I could see where Johnny Acne was coming from, but what the hell--the night's been great so far, and no Gen Xer is gonna blow it for me now.
Out to the truck and smile. Back to Chez Sweetheart's and cones galore--hope her knees aren't getting cold with that on her lap. I may be forced to kiss them---Argggh! Good girl, Good girl--down, Jack and behave yourself!
Gillian unlocked her door to her white brick house and walked into it, carrying the bag of ice cream. She led Jack into the kitchen and set it down on the counter, blowing on her hands. "Now that I've got frostbite..." She shook her hands out as she took the two quarts out of the bag and rubbed her hands together. It just hit her like a ton of bricks that Jack was now in her house and she felt the bats once more start to take flight within her stomach. "Do you want something to drink?"
I take her hands and bring them up to my mouth, blow on them to warm them up. She blushes and tries VERY hard not to giggle. Being a big doctor and all, giggling's not cool I suppose.
"A lot of folks will tell you I'm full of hot air--now you know--" I murmur. "Not to change the mood, but I need to visit the little colonel's room--"
I cracked her up again--woohoo! Big night on the Make Gill Laugh meter I see.
Okay, take care of business, flush wash hands like the sanitary beast you can be, try not to snoop, but hey, it's her bathroom fer crying out loud--very very--girly. Make up, oh, there's the perfume--never heard of it--aw geez!
O'Neill, you really ought to buy a comb--right now you look like a sheepdog out of a wind tunnel!
Gillian was glad he was gone; she used the few minutes to try and get a hold of her nerves again. Her hands were warm now and just thinking about what Jack had done to warm them made her blush all over again. She heard the bathroom door open and the colonel made his way back into the kitchen.
"Would you like a beer or are you ready to dive head first into the ice cream?"
"It could only improve this damned hair--" I sigh. Might as well admit I'm a slob. She holds out the scooper and smiles at me, waiting for me to do the honors. I take it, and try not to let the flinch show in my face too much.
Charlie loved cones. I got good at double deckers for him, stacking them JUST so--
"Okay--what goes on the bottom and what goes on top, Gill?"
Mmmmm--okay, that was a TAD suggestive--don't look at her, act innocent--
Gillian cleared her throat. "The fudge on top please." She was holding a cone in her hands, ready for it to be topped. "I haven't done this in a long time." She sighed. "Made cones that is."
She watched as Jack scooped out the Tin Roof Sundae, putting it on top of her cone. "Wow you're at pro at this."
"I've had some practice--" I admit softly. Half of me hopes she'll ask and the other half hopes she won't--I'm not sure how to talk about Charlie most of the time. The cone's nearly perfect--
"Better get started on it, or it'll be all over your fist before you know it--" I warn, starting on my cone.
Ohhh, now THAT'S sexy! Geez, I can't concentrate if she's going to lick it like that--Sheesh! I'm starting to spill here, get it TOGETHER, O'Neill!
"Good?" I squeak, trying to keep fudge from cascading all over my fingers--ah! coldcoldcold
Gillian couldn't help but laugh as the fudge was put back on top of Jack's cone. "Oops, now you've got it all over your hand." She grabbed a mug from the drain board and got out a paper towel. Her ice cream come was set in the mug, allowing it to stand upright. "Here, let me get that." She took his hand and wiped the ice cream away. "After all you warmed up my hand, the least I can do is return the favor." Gillian took his hand between hers and rubbed his fingers. "There..." She picked up her cone and started eating it again.
Kind of her. Very kind. Not bad ice cream either.
"So this is Chez MacKenzie--not bad--"
Oh Geez. A little dribble of chocolate right on the corner of her mouth. Ah! I could give two months PAY to lick that off!
"Messy girl--here--"
A thumb smudge--hell, better than nothing. She's got the greatest eyes--
Gillian smiled, swallowing hard, trying not to let that simple gesture make her knees go weak. It was too late of course and she tried like hell not to show it. "Yeah, I guess I am messy." She touched the corner of her mouth and wiped it. "Interested in that free tour?"
Gillian was looking at the older man standing next to her, there were a million things running through her brain, and he was responsible for almost all of them.
"Sure--and I'll be careful to hold all my questions until the end," I promise solemnly. Gill's looking twitchy and I'm worried--is she regretting inviting me in? God, I'd hate to think it--
"Lead on--ow!"
Doorsill's kind of LOW, damn it. Great, big goober colonel can't even watch where he's going--AND he's gonna drop his cone too--God, O'Neill, FOCUS!
"I MEANT to do that--"
One hug. I'd even forfeit a kiss, but at least a hug and I MIGHT get through this evening.
"I'm sorry, I should have warned you." Gillian reached up and towards the front of his head. "It's never a problem for me but I'm not as tall as you are." She started to touch his head but then stopped and cleared her throat. "Well the kitchen you know the living room you saw when you came in." She led Jack down the hall. "Guest bathroom, done in a lovely shade of hunter green. One guest room." She opened the door wide as they both stood in the doorway. It contained one bed in the middle, one dresser and a small desk, the color of the room was blue. "The other guest room is the mirror image done in red." They headed down the hall and peeked into it, looking at the deep red bed comforter and matching curtains. The last room at the top of the hall was the master bedroom; it too was done in the Southwest colors. "And this is my room." She opened the door and waited for Jack to walk into it.
I wait. She's looking at me funny and I clear my throat.
"Sweetheart, just for the record--I don't walk into a woman's bedroom unless I mean business--" I tell her gently. Have to be honest here, and I sure as hell don't want any misunderstandings.
"Nice room," I tell her from the doorway. Is she disappointed? I'd like to think so, but I could be wrong. The colors are perfect for Gill, and I could just picture her on that bed . . . in a nightgown-- or not--
Down Boy! Look sweet and innocent. TRY.
Is it hot in here or is it just me? God, the damned cone's practically a puddle!
Gillian realized he was right, it did seem rather suggestive. "Sorry, I didn't mean to...I was just giving you the tour." She had another lick of her cone as she closed the door. She glanced at saw the melted status of Jack's cone. "Something wrong with the ice cream? You don't seem to be eating it or is it too melted?"
They walked back down the hall and into the living room. "How about we have a seat, my heels are killing me." She started to reach down to unbuckle them but then stopped. "Do you mind if I take off these stilts?"
"I guess we'd BETTER sit then otherwise you'll be talking to my sternum--again." I respond, finishing up the cone. It's not bad, but not quite what I'm hungry for--
Bad Jack. That's gonna mean fifty more crunches in the morning. And there she goes--ohhhhhhh damn! LOVE those legs. If she ever knew how often I'd thought about getting those around me, she'd slap my face here and now. Can't stop myself though--O'Neill limb appreciation runs deep--to the bone you might say, woof!
"Comfy?"
Asshole. Of course she's comfy--she's waiting for you to get the hell home so she can watch ER or something. Think of something to say that doesn't sound stupid.
Okay, gonna be a long wait on that. Maybe you ought to sit down too. Is it too much to sit next to her?
"Actually yes, I'm very comfortable." Gillian shifted over and patted the couch next to her. "Are you going to sit?" She saw the hesitance on her date's face. "I don't bite and I've had all of my vaccinations updated just in case I do." She sighed as she flexed her feet a little. "Aww, much better. The heels aren't very high but they sure hurt after a while."
"I'll take your word on that--I haven't worn heels in AGES--" good enough line to drop on the sofa and make her bounce a bit. She isn't giggling but she looks like she wants to--
"You can bite if you want to--Janet's got most of us pretty well pumped with antibiotics, remember? I think she--
Oh God, what's she doing? She's moving closer--Ahhhhh!
Gillian swallowed hard as she shifted towards Jack, seeing his dark eyes round slightly. "Colonel...you know those little innocent wonderings I told you about at dinner?"
"Mmmm yeah--I remember--"
She moved even closer to him, feeling the warmth of his breath on her face. "Well there's one I've been wondering about for ages now and I have to find out the answer to it."
"Okaayyyy--"
Oh God she smells wonderful. Want to kiss her SOOO badly, behaveJackbehave--
Gillian smiled briefly as she put both of her hands on his face. She stroked it gently with her thumbs as she leaned close to him and brushed her lips against his. Her little wondering was clear now, what was it like to kiss Jack O'Neill?
OHYEAH!!!!!!
MINESHEKISSEDMEMINEOHYEAHALLLLLLMINE
"Mmmmmm? Now THAT'S a good question---have to . . . Work on . . . . It . . ."
The young woman could feel her face turning a thousand shades of red. She was lightheaded and her knees were no longer there. She couldn't help but see the enormous grin on the face of her date. "Wow...good answer." She touched her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat. "Jack… would you think badly of me if we sort of...did that again?"
"I could work that into my agenda--"
Scoop her up, bring her face back where it belongs, nice kiss, gentle little thing, oooohhh so sweet, taste a little ice cream and a whole lot of Gill--oh my, is that the tiniest tip of someone's tongue knocking on my bottom lip? Come on in, Sweetheart, Jack's at home, Jack's more than ready to give YOU the tour---Damn this girl can KISSS!!!!!
Fuck. Gotta breathe, stupid lungs!!
Gillian pulled back from the kiss, her face still a nice healthy shade of red. The lack of oxygen had made her breathing a little ragged as she stared into Jack's face. She was completely speechless for a moment. "Holy cow, we were just..." She widened her eyes a little. "Oh boy... a lot of mixed feelings here, I suddenly feel like a very bad girl."
"And this is a BAD thing? Because I have to tell you, from where I'm sitting, it's pretty sweet--" I blurt out. "I tend to be a bad influence you know--"
Anything to make you feel better, Gill. Anything to make you feel ME, mostly. Honest to God, don't leave me the lecher here--we're both WAY over twenty one for crying out loud, right? It's not as if we're strangers or as if we're just getting to know each other--
Gillian swallowed hard, touching his face. "It's not that Jack, you're right it is good, it's fantastic." She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "You were honest with me so let me honest with you. The reason I feel like a bad girl is because I want a lot more than just a kiss." She slapped her hand over her eyes, not sure how he would take that. "If you want to just get up and bolt out that door, I won't blame you one bit." She slowly lowered her hand from her face, waiting to see if he was going to leave or not.
Stunned. Oh yeah, stunned big time. SHEWANTSME!
"Um, then I guess that makes me a bad boy, Gill," I tell her, looking into her face. "And to tell the truth, I've been bad for a very long time. So no, I'm not bolting."
Give her a smile; cuddle her close for a moment--Ohhhhh goood. She fits right under your chin. Nicccce.
"You know, I think MUCH better when I kiss--"
Will she buy it--
The red haired woman lifted her head from his collarbone, sighing out of relief. "So we're both bad, I guess we'll just have to live with it." Gillian put her arms around his neck and kissed him again, slower and deeper this time. She was feeling rather bold now and let her tongue slide into his mouth.
OhGodyessssssweeet! Can't think, don't want to think, FEEEL Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! More, more please, just like that, yes mine oooooohhhh
"I died . . . and . . . went to . . . . heaven." I mumble between kisses. She's a perfect fit, luscious and gentle and warm. If she's not careful I'll have to move in immediately. I get her! Legs and all!
Woohooo!
"Me to…God." Gillian's hands moved from around Jack's neck to his hair, her fingers playing with it as they kissed. They were currently locked together in those kinds of heavenly kisses that leave the participants so dizzy and dreamy they can't remember their own names. She pulled back long enough to hug him around the neck again, burying her head in his chest. "God you're incredible Jack."
Oh I could die a VERY HAPPY CAMPER right now. Life is GOOD.
"Thank you--although there are about a thousand folks over on the mountain who might argue with you, Gill."
I shift--getting a little snug here, don't want to push my luck at the moment, not now. She's beautiful. Simply, incredibly beautiful.
"You're beautiful--didja know that?"
Gillian raised her head. "You really think so?" She grinned, a sweet little smile blooming on her lips. She leaned forward and gave him another small kiss. "And as for the people on the mountain...sometimes they aren't so smart. If you ask me."
"Well maybe--I have a reputation to uphold--and speaking of which, I'm not about to give YOU one, so bear with me if I take this kind of slow. You're pretty terrific, Gill, but I'm---"
God I'm going to say it---SHEESH!
"--I'm a little old-fashioned. Call it a curse, but that's the way it is--hope that doesn't blow your opinion of me, sweetheart."
Cross your fingers, pray she isn't going to freak out at the Victorian streak in you, O'Neill!
Like that's going to stop you from kissing her again you dog--
The red haired woman tilted her head to one side one side, pursing her lips together. "Let me get this straight Jack...You want to take things nice and slow with me so we can build a nice relationship that will eventually lead to my bedroom and you're expecting me to think badly of you because of this?"
"Hey! Could be MY bedroom too--I've got one--somewhere under all that laundry and hockey stuff I think--"
She's giggling again and I take a moment to kiss her. HA! Gotcha good there--Ooooooohhhh yeah.
"Ahem, as I was saying---I think its . . . worth it . . . Oh! stop Gill, stop my neck is VERY ticklish thank you! Arrgghh! Fine! Two can play at that game, but I'm outta here in an hour--I've got PD 18445 waiting in the morning--"
Kiss her more. Kiss her chin and nose and eyes and lips again. Behave. Smile.
"Jack! You wicked man!" Gillian couldn't help but laugh as she got attacked by a pair of smacking lips. "Hey I'm going to drown in a sea of Colonel here!" She gasped when his lips brushed the side of her neck. "Oh...now that's not fair! You keep that up and reputation be damned." She closed her eyes and sighed. "But you're right, I do want to us to take things slow." She had her fingers in his hair and was playing with it.
"Good then. We're in agreement," I whisper with a smile. "You set the pace and give the orders, Doc--and that's an order."
She's ticklish--boy is she going to live to regret that. God I hope I get legs by the fourth date or I'm going to combust! Sweet stuff, this woman. Worth it, even the damned flu shot----
"So does this mean I outrank you Jack?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him as she put her arms around his neck and touched his nose with hers. "But before we end this lovely, perfect evening...I'll grant you one little wondering Jack. I got one of mine answered when I kissed you so I'm giving you the chance to satisfy one of yours." She raised an eyebrow. "Just keep it clean."
"Can I ummm, touch your----sheesh this is a little embarrassing--um, your legs?"
Both the eyebrows on the red haired woman rose up. "You want to touch my legs?" There was something innocent yet not about this request that brought a smile to her face. She had granted Jack one wish and fair was fair after all.
Gillian shifted on the couch. "Okay, just give me a second here." She moved away from Jack and ended up beside him, turning and letting her long panty hose cladded legs stretched out across his lap. "Okay Jack, you wanted them, here they are."
Holy shit--died and went to heaven--eight miles of luscious leg here and where to begin touching? Ah that ankle, delicate, powerful, sexy as hell--
"I like your ankles--nice, you know--"
Strong and shapely calf, smoooooooth--oh yeah. Seriously having trouble now, control your breathing O'Neill--
"I bet you run, too"
You will be when I chase you, sweetheart--that's for sure! ah the knee--lovely lovely thing--I WILL kiss you soon, my pretty--
"Only when I absolutely have to...its not my favorite thing." Gillian sighed as Jack's hands traced over her legs, his hands were big and surprisingly gentle. "You have a really nice touch; I bet you give great massages." She swung her legs off his lap and stood up. "But that will have to wait, you've got a planet to explore and it's getting late."
Good girl--would have been hyperventilating if I actually made it to the thigh--
"Thank you--"
Hope that didn't sound too corny--but geez, lips and legs in ONE night--a man can only take so much temptation! Kiss her again; show her you're serious--
They were standing face to face by the door and Gillian smiled as her fingers touched his jaw line. "The Wrangler was great, the steak was delicious but the best part of tonight was you." She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his, her arms coming around his neck as the kiss deepened. They pulled back from one another and Jack sighed, a smile coming to his lips.
"You're right; it's been a great night." He touched her button nose with his finger. "We'll do this again…soon, that's a promise."
Gillian nodded as her hands came down his arms to touch his hands. "It's a date and do me a favor?"
Jack gave the small hands in his a squeeze. "Sure."
"Be careful on PD18445, okay?"
The colonel couldn't help but grin. "Yes ma'am, a little thing like the Goa'uld won't get in the way of our next date." He gave her a wink as he opened the door and stepped through it.
"Good night." Gillian closed the wooden door and leaned against it, listening to the sound of his truck starting and pulling out of the driveway. Her knees were still weak from his kisses and she could still smell his after shave on her clothes. It had been an amazing, eye opening night.
The young woman tilted her head back and sighed; she couldn't wait for the next date…