Title: All I want for Christmas is You
Author: HailDorothy
Spoilers: S7, S8, S10
Characters: Jack/Sam, Sam/Pete – sort of
Summary: AU. There's an old saying, "Never assume anything, coz it makes an ass out of you and me." Well our favorite couple is about to learn that hard lesson and the true reason for the Christmas season. Merry Christmas, shippers!
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 never was and never will be mine. Darn!
No beta: Put the blame for typos and other errors of judgment on me.
Feedback: On my knees begging!

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Nine months prior:

The banner hanging over the stage of the dance hall read:

HAPPY 50th ANNIVERSARY HARRY AND MARY!

Jack smiled at the wedded couple of fifty years. So cool to see his former neighbors had made it this long. Most couples now-a-days didn't last five years let alone fifty. He'd always hoped to spend fifty years with the same woman, but at his age that'd put him around a hundred. Well, longevity did reign in the O'Neill genetic tide pool. However, he humbly long accepted that he'd grow old with his fishing pole at the cabin—alone.

Watching his friends sway close together on the dance floor, Jack wondered what they were saying. Probably lots of, "Remember when," lines or more importantly, "I love you, snookem's."

As if on cue, the orchestra played the country western song, 'Remember When.' The darn sentimental fool that he was, Jack felt his throat clog. Damn, he hated when that happened, let alone with witnesses. He and Sam had been together what, almost eight years? Stop this, O'Neill! A working relationship isn't a marriage, far from it. And yet, they'd spent more time together than most spouses. How did one describe their relationship? Teammates? Good friends? Friends without bennies? Wannabe lovers?

If wishes were horses, old man! Curse Carter for leaving it in the room. No! That was his fault. He should have insisted they discuss it that very day. And then he did the dumbest thing, he told her to get a life. What in Ne'tu had he been thinking?

Discouraged, Jack sat down and nursed his champagne. As warped as it sounded he still loved Samantha Carter. He loved her like he'd never loved any woman before in his entire life, even Sara. This time he'd loved unselfishly. He'd given all and tried not to take. Because when she gave of herself which for Carter was a constant, he thought himself the richest fool in the universe.

It'd taken seven years for Jack to realize he was close to losing the most important person in his life. Samantha Carter. Last week, he'd spoken off record with General Hammond.

The 'man' told Jack, "Son, it's about time you got your head out of your rear-end regarding Samantha. But . . ." Jack hated butts. "Could you wait until we find Atlantis so we can destroy the Goa'uld for once and for all?"

Per usual Jack put duty before love and begrudgingly agreed. That's why he was working his and SG-1's asses off to locate the long lost city of the Ancients. All Jack could say was that Daniel had better be right about the city's existence or Daniel would find himself buried with his mummies.

Jack took another swig of warm champagne and decided he'd not wallow in regrets with an audience. He'd shown up, eaten a delicious meal, and toasted the lovely couple twice. Now it was time to head home and drink solo. He started across the dance floor to say goodbye to his friends when something quite odd distracted him. A younger couple danced slowly in place with eyes only for each other.

Doggone, a Samantha Carter look-a-like dancing with a short guy with a lantern jaw and receding blond hairline. Jack blinked and looked again. Holy buckets, it was his Sam! What was she doing here? What were the odds that she knew the Baxters? Decked out in black high heels Sam towered over her dance partner. At first Jack thought he was a relative. Mark? Nope, Mark was taller than Sam. Then Jack remembered that Mark had set her up with some cop named, um? Dang, he couldn't remember. Pedro, Peppy, Petra? The guy's last name totally eluded him.

Jack's gaze fixated on Carter. His jaw slackened. He had never seen her dressed so provocatively. Her golden hair was swept up on her head. She wore makeup, jewelry, and a stunning red dress with a plunging back and enough cleavage to cause Jack lower discomfort, not to mention a dry mouth. And those long curvy legs went on forever. She was hot! So was he.

Jack watched her date's hands roam lower than Sam's waist. The leech! Jack saw red. He also had a major reality check and hurried for the bathroom. Once inside he found an empty stall, entered and tossed his meal and the champagne. Still shaking he sat on the toilet seat and tried to get a grip. Well, she said she was dating someone. She said it wasn't serious. Wrong!

Still shaking but less nauseous, Jack left the stall and managed to reach the sink. He splashed cold water on his face and then patted dry with paper toweling. Jack looked in the mirror and saw a gray-haired man with a road map for a face and one scarred eyebrow. He looked like he'd been through the ringer. He had. He looked over fifty. Wait, he was over fifty. What had he been thinking? Him married to Sam? She'd have to be nuts to still love him. Well, they'd never actually admitted to being in love with each other. Caring, yes. Loving, not.

"You're such an ass!" He accused the man in the mirror. "Time to grow up. You lost Sara and now you've lost someone you never ever had. Samantha."

The bathroom door swung ajar. The short, lantern-jawed, balding blond guy strutted toward him like a peacock. Upon closer observation Jack realize he wasn't more than thirty-five, which made him younger than Sam. Crap, Jack hoped she hadn't spotted him. To his relief the man hurried toward the urinals. Jack decided to check him out. Standing in the next stall, he unzipped and did his business.

The other man smiled and whistled to himself. Jack discreetly took a peek. Dang, he was bigger than Jack assumed. Lantern Jaw caught Jack in the act. Jack blushed and hoped the kid didn't think him gay. To his surprise, Lantern Jaw looked down at Jack's equipment and whistled approval.

"Looks like we're both outfitted to make the ladies happy, huh?"

Jack coughed and zipped up. His repartee of one-liners failed him, so he walked to a sink and washed his hands vigorously.

Lantern Jaw didn't seem offended by Jack's silence. "I'm going to get lucky tonight and it's about time."

"Do tell?" Jack engaged locker room talk.

"Yep. Been chasing this hot blond for almost three months. She's not just nice, she's a good girl. Doesn't sleep around. The type of girl a fellow wants to marry. And I finally found her weak link."

"Don't keep me in suspense?" Jack coaxed with a shifty smile.

"Well," his voice lowered and he grinned like a high school kid. "She's a diehard romantic, loves Gene Kelly movies and that stupid Wizard of Oz flick. She actually quotes the dialogue and has a thing for the brainless scarecrow."

"Weird." Jack commented, smiling to himself.

"You're telling me. But then she's a genius scientist in the Air Force, something to do with deep space telemetry. Never liked the military but she's an exception." He sighed."And built like . . ." He made a crude gesture and winked.

Jack cracked his knuckles. He wanted to plant his fist down the wolf's throat.

"Anyways, ya'll know once you see her."

"I'm sure." He winced.

Lantern Jaw's over zealous smile evaporated. "Unfortunately, she's got a crush on her boss. Of course, she'd never admit it even to me, because they're military. But she talks about him nonstop. Colonel O'Neill this, Colonel O'Neill that. Heck, you'd think he'd saved the world or something."

Jack choked and gripped the edge of the counter.

"Hey, you okay, old man?"

"Just peachy, son." Jack cleared his throat. "Um, you were saying." Jack encouraged him to dig himself a deep hole, because Jack had every intention to bury him.

"She needs a good man that she can depend upon. A safe bet. And I'm him." He punctuated by poking his chest.

"You don't say." Jack looked Lantern Jaw over and smothered a laugh. "Would her name per chance be Major Samantha Carter?"

Lantern Jaw choked.

"Hey, you alright?" Jack slugged him between the shoulders harder than necessary.

"Yeah." He caught his breath and backed off, arching his sore shoulders. "How'd you know?"

"Because." Jack turned to the dark side, and got in the shorter man's face. "I'm her boss, Colonel O'Neill."

"Shit!"

"Limited vocabulary huh?" Jack snatched the man by the shoulders and lifted him easily off the tile floor. "Take the advice of this old man who cares about her. You treat Carter with the utmost respect! And if you ever harm her emotionally, mentally or physically, you'll have to dig your balding, blond head out of your lily white ass. Understood?"

"Yesss sir!" He gulped.

"Fine." Jack set Lantern Jaw on his feet then brushed his own hands as if they'd been soiled. Walking toward the door, Jack addressed the shaken man. "One more thing, son, you don't tell Carter about our conversation."

"Or what?" Lantern Jaw had recovered his courage.

"You'll be singing soprano." Jack left and headed for the back door.

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"Colonel?"

Ah, crap! Jack picked up his pace, but a familiar hand clutched his upper right arm. Resigning himself, Jack turned to find Sam looking beautiful as ever and dumbstruck by his presence.

"What are you doing here, sir?" It was an innocent, non-threatening, non-accusing request, but he felt culpable. Perhaps, because Jack had just threatened to shove her boyfriend's head up his rectum.

"I, um, the Baxter's were my neighbors when I was married to Sara," he shared.

"Oh." She clenched her pale hands and straightened her slender shoulders. No doubt she realized how her party dress revealed more that he'd seen of her in a very long time.

"And you?" He buried his nervous hands into the pockets of his black silk Armani suit.

"I, we. . ." she blushed. "Sorry to confess, but my date and I crashed their party. He wanted to prove that marriages can last."

"Ah." Jack scrunched his face and glanced toward the men's bathroom. No sign of Lantern Jaw. "Well, Harry and Mary are living proof."

"Testing, testing!" Speaking of the honored couple, Harry and Mary stood on stage by the orchestra and Harry was tapping the microphone. The eighty-five-year old got the crowd's attention then announced, "I want to thank everyone for being here tonight and sharing our celebration of fifty blessed years together. I also want to expose a part of my soul and hope that it gives you all hope and determination to stick it out, no matter the cost. Some of you folks know that Mary and I went through some rough times, especially before we got married. See, I wasn't the easiest guy to love."

Mary kissed his cheek and hugged his arm for assurance. Harry smiled lovingly down at her. "But she didn't give up on me. Ya see Mary and I had been coworkers and friends long before we became lovers. Trouble is, I was her boss and there's ten years between us, so I didn't know if I should pursue her. Of course, I didn't realize she was in love with me too."

Mary caressed his leathered cheek. He patted her hand and winked.

Jack glanced at Sam to find her totally mesmerized with the older couple's public proclamation of love. Jack dragged a finger beneath his shirt collar. Was it getting warm in here?

Harry continued. "Anyhow, before we came clean about our true feelings, I felt unworthy of Mary's love and devotion so I purposely pushed her away, drove her into the arms of another man. Talk about three fries short of a happy meal." Harry winked at Jack, because Jack had stolen that amusing line from Harry years ago.

Ah, shit! Jack had heard this story and didn't want Sam to hear it, at least with him here. Where in blazes was her date? Jack couldn't believe how much he wanted the man to rescue him.

Talkative Harry kept on a talking. "This next song was previously recorded by the king himself, Elvis Presley, and although bittersweet it is one of our favorites. So, I encourage you to take the words to heart. If you haven't told that special person you love how you feel, don't wait. Do it now! So you won't ever know the heartache that I and Mary put each other through because of stupid pride." That said, Harry nodded to the orchestra then lead his white haired wife onto the dance floor.

Jack couldn't believe what poured out of his mouth. "So, wanna dance, Major?"

Worse, she said, "Love to, Colonel."

Jack gulped, took her hand and led her into a waltz. When he looked down, she wore a bashful smile and then nibbled her lips, a habit that always made his head turn into mush. He couldn't remember her ever looking more enchanting. Sam's tall curvaceous body fit his battle hardened frame like a leather glove. They were a perfect match. Always had been. Still duty and love raged within his heart. Jack decided that for this one dance he'd screw the regs.

He pulled Sam close and nuzzling her neck, whispered, "Off the record, Samantha. You look beautiful tonight. But then, you are always beautiful."

He felt her tremble, and then she rested her head on his chest. "Off the record, Jack. You are one handsome silver fox. And I love the suit."

Jack lifted his head and gazed into her liquid blue gaze. Had she any idea what her eyes did to him? He smiled. She smiled. Jack's heart did a triple back-flip. Maybe he was having a heart attack. Maybe he had died. Sam smelled like heaven. She was heaven. He was dancing with the woman of his dreams, his best friend, his confidant, his wanna-be-lover. So was this God's way of nudging him to confess his heart? Or was it God's nudge to let her go? 'Could use one of Your neon signs about now, Lord?'

And then the soloist sang,

"You give your hand to me and then you say hello
And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so
And anyone could tell, you think you know me well
But you don't know me

"No you don't know the one who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight
To you I'm just a friend, and that's all I've ever been
No, you don't know me

For I never knew the art of making love
Though my heart aches with love for you
Afraid and shy I let my chance go by
The chance that you might love me too . . ."

Jack drew her right hand up between them and held tight. Sam looked up and really, really looked at him. Did she hear the lyrics, did she understand what he couldn't publicly confess? Jack gazed down and offered one of his rare dimpled smiles.

Sam gasped softly.

'Yes! She wins the door prize! This song is about us, Sam. Can you feel my heart, can you . . .'

"I believe the lady is with me, Colonel O'Neill." A large hand tapped Jack's shoulder. Lantern Jaw had cut in and so wasn't smiling.

Still in Jack's embrace Sam looked at both men. "You guys know each other?"

"Sorta." Jack explained before blondy could. "We met a few minutes ago. I failed to catch your name?" He sent the younger a naive look, but the kid didn't budge. Apparently, he'd gotten his mojo back.

"Sir, this is my friend, Pete Shanahan. You know the cop I told you about." Sam politely reminded him.

Jack offered his infamous dense as a doorknob look.

"My brother Mark introduced us," she gestured between her and Pete with a tone of frustration toward Jack.

"Ooh . . . that guy." Jack wanted to puke, while Sam seemed to pickup on the competitive tension between the men.

"And, Pete, this is my CO Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"Colonel," Pete acknowledged coldly. Oh, yeah this was going to be interesting.

"Nice to meet you, Peppy."

Sam crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"What?" Jack played dumber, after all he did it so well.

Sam didn't buy in. "Please, sir?"

"Oh, you mean Pete as in peat moss." Jack extended his hand to the man, but Peppy didn't accept the gesture.

"Ouch!" Jack winced. Sam had pinched his waist. Trying not to grin he sternly glanced down at her. "Careful, Major."

"You too, sir." Whoops, his major was pissed.

"Fine. I'll behave." Jack looked up to find Petty frowning at Jack's intimate exchange with his girlfriend. Cool! Jack's left hand remained purposely on Sam's opposite hip. But when she squirmed he reluctantly let go. After all that was serious fraternization.

"Well, this is awkward." Sam blew out her rose-tinted lips with a nervous smile, her gaze flitting from Jack to Pete, then back to Jack. He knew her looks too well.

"Yep, getting there," he acknowledged with a downward tug of his mouth. Jack wondered what had happened to the lippy guy he'd met in the restroom.

"Sam, you never mentioned that your boss is a lot older than us." Oy! Lippy Lantern Jaw was back.

Careful, Jack silently warned the man, not about himself, but Sam. He glanced her way. Yep right on cue, blood rose beneath Sam's ivory complexion.

"I'll have you know Colonel O'Neill is in high physical form, Pete. You should see him train the new recruits. He runs them into the ground and doesn't break a sweat."

Jack coughed at Sam's exaggeration. Last time he trained SGC team recruits he'd nearly died from heat exhaustion, and had iced his knees and lower back the entire week afterward. Not that those snoot-nosed recruits ever saw his misery. Nope. Not going to happen.

"Colonel O'Neill is also a boxer. He was the Air Force heavy weight champion three years in a row." She beamed with pride and smiled at Jack.

"Really?" Pete looked to him for confirmation.

Jack nodded but wished Sam would stop flaunting his past successes. She did know that was twenty years ago, right?

"Well, I'm a detective with the Denver P.D. Staying in top physical shape is required to keep one's job. We honestly don't often see men your age keeping up with a fugitive on the hoof, Colonel."

It took all his restraint to be the better man. But one glimpse at Sam's distressed features and he could do no other. "Yes, well, one must know one's limitations, son."

"Sure. Maybe you and I'll have an opportunity to show Sam who's the better man in the ring, huh?"

"You're on," Jack countered.

"Guys!" Sam's pleading gaze settled on him.

Yep, time to bail her out. "Well, like Carter said, this has been awkward, son, and its way past this 'old man's' bedtime."

"Glad you realize that, Jack." Pete drawled as if to clarify they weren't on equal ground regarding Sam.

"Please, sir, don't leave on our account. Besides, we crashed the anniversary party." She looked to Pete for backup. Instead, Lantern Jaw snared her slim waist and yanked her against his right hip. To Jack's delight she scowled and politely broke free.

"Shush!" Jack raised a finger. "Your secrets safe with me, Carter. Now you, kids, dance your young hearts out and enjoy the romantic ambiance." He faced Pete. "Just make sure you have her home by midnight, son, or you'll turn into a pumpkin." Jack emphasized with a glint before turning on his heels.

"He's kidding, right?" Jack heard Pete's exasperation.

"Hardly." Sam replied drolly. "Sir, wait?" she called out.

Jack stopped and found her on his heels, leaving Pete stranded on the dance floor staring after them like a lost waif.

"Hey, get back to your date." Jack ordered in his gruff CO voice.

Sam captured his left hand and gazed into his face with a beseeching look. "We're not involved, sir. I mean, we're just dating casually, and I—" Her soft thumb caressed the leathered back of his right hand. Jack started to melt then made a forced recovery.

"You don't owe me any explanations, Carter."

"But just now our dance, and that song . . . I thought. . . ."

"Don't read so much into a simple song and dance, Major."

"That's all it was for you?"

"Ya sure yabetcha." He shrugged indifference.

"But sir?" Sam looked at him with the most crestfallen expression.

Jack rarely lost at anything when he set his stubborn mind to it. And he wanted Samantha Carter more than life. All he had to do was say the word and she'd leave with him and never look back. But that didn't mean it was right. It'd meant he'd have to retire or get out of Hammond's chain of command. It meant he wouldn't lead SG-1 off world again.Oh, he could do that in a heartbeat. But could he do it to Carter, let alone to her career?

Heck, she was almost fifteen years his junior and even if she did love him, he feared she'd resent him twenty years down the road when he was using a cane or in a wheelchair. He knew what Sam needed, wanted, and deserved in her life. A husband and children. Children. Heck, Jack would probably never see their firstborn turn eighteen. He couldn't do that to her, couldn't leave her stranded with fatherless rug rats. As for the husband part, well she needed someone to keep up with her including under the sheets, not this old wreck with arthritic knees and a bad back.

For Sam's sake he had to let go, let her fly and do what he did best. Be a jackass. He raised a hand and touched the bow of her mouth. "Listen to me, Carter. I'm relieved and thrilled to see that you finally got a life outside the SGC. He seems like a good man in need of a good woman, and that most likely is you. Pete's the lucky guy."

"But?" She looked hurt and gripped his hand tighter.

"Nah! You know how I feel about clichés and butt jokes, Sam." Whoops, he'd called her Sam. "Whatever could have happened got locked in that room years ago, and I quite honestly lost the key. Besides, you deserve better. So go be happy, Carter. That's an order." Jack brushed a chaste kiss across her tensed forehead and with one last squeeze of her trembling hand, he let go and walked out of her personal life.

"Goodbye, sir." Sam's soft voice barely reached him.

Even when Jack heard her sob he forced one unsteady leg in front of the other. Not looking back he waved and walked faster, hoping no one saw the tears tracking his face. As he cleared the exit door, he heard the last stanza that summed up the state of his battered heart, and realized that Samantha Carter really never knew him.

"You give your hand to me and then you say good-bye
I watch you walk away beside the lucky guy
To never, never know the one who loves you so
No, you don't know me."

TBC