Disclaimer: not mine

A/N: I would love to write something meaningful or moving or generally; instead I keep coming up with silly fluff. (sighs) It's all very upsetting

They lay in bed together, Sam cuddled into Jack's side. Her fingers wandered lazily up and down his chest, and he found her touch just enough of a distraction that he couldn't quite fall asleep.

His mind had always had a tendency to wander, sometimes even when he had a hot blonde lying naked in his arms. He didn't like it, sometimes he despaired over his lack of an attention span, but he was used to it now and almost always managed not to blurt out whatever came into his mind.

Of course, there were always exceptions.

"Carter, does the idea of cleaning out the ear wax from my ears with your tongue turn you on?"

He moaned as her fingers stopped their teasing, or maybe he was moaning from the pain that radiated outward from his shoulder after she punched him; either way, he wasn't happy. Plus, his hot blonde had just pulled away and was sitting up, looking furious. Nope, not happy at all.

"Jack O'Neill, I hope you had a really good reason for asking me that," she said.

Jack considered. He had a reason, certainly, but whether or not she'd think it was a good reason...

"This guy I play poker with was bragging that his wife liked to clean his ears with his tongue. I told him he was talking bull, but he insisted that a surprising number of women liked it. I just wanted your opinion." He shrugged. "I wouldn't actually want you to do it: that would be weird."

"And demeaning."

He glanced at her: she was definitely softening. Well, maybe, if he played his cards right. "It would be weird and demeaning, not to mention misogynistic, insulting and generally creepy."

She cuddled back into him. "You know I'd kick your ass if you ever asked me to do that, right?"

He considered. "I thought you just did."

She shook her head, rubbing blonde hair across his chest. It felt wonderful. "Jack, if you think that's me kicking your ass..."

"Point taken."

She started rubbing his shoulder, right where she had hit him. It hurt like hell, but he really didn't think he was in any position to point that out to her.

"So, does your obvious repentance mean that you're going to start using Q-tips now?"

He winced. He did wash his ears every morning, but apparently fingers weren't as effective as those little cotton-bud things. Actually, those kind of freaked him out – what if you pushed them in too deep and they got stuck?

"Maybe."

She kissed him, lips and tongue acting in unison to break through all his defences. He tried not to whimper as she pulled away, but really, he wasn't sure he pulled it off.

"Only maybe?" she asked.

He thought carefully for a minute, considering if his next comment would be worth the resulting pain. "Wanna do it for me?"

Even though he knew what was coming, he still didn't managed to block it. Damn she was good – and he was very lucky she wasn't hitting properly. As she kissed him again, his mind stopped working altogether; her exploration of his mouth was very thorough, and this time he definitely whimpered as she broke it off.

Finally his lungs were working again. "What was that for?" he asked.

Sam smirked. "I was just cleaning your mouth: you know, licking away all the tooth decay?"

Now he understood why Cassie made that weird sound she sometimes did when he said something disgusting. "Carter!"

Her smirk only grew wider. "What?"

He considered accusing her of destroying the romance, and then decided that probably wouldn't be a good idea, given his original comment. Besides, maybe there was a coded message in her actions. "Do you want me to go and brush my teeth now?"

"Yes please."

She seemed to be waiting for something. "And my ears?"

"The Q-tips are on the second shelf in the cabinet, honey."

He glared at her. "Honey?"

"Would you prefer snookums?"

That would be a no, then. He leaned towards her to kiss her again, but thought better of it and stormed off to the bathroom instead, her laugher following him all the way.