#ICalledHimSirChallenge

Inspired by a conversation between Amanda Tapping and her audience at At9, in October 2016.

During the first Q&A session, she responded to a fans question, confirming that she had often dreamed in character as "Samantha Carter" chasing bad guys through forests, meeting alien races and on several occasions, there were 'other dreams' involving a certain handsome colonel. After the audience went wild (and several members of our fic club uttered the words 'holy sh*t', rather loudly) Amanda walked across the stage saying quite cheekily, "I called him Sir... I think he liked it" and winked at the audience, which brought the house down.

Over lunch, it was decided that I would tell her in the second Q&A, that Twitter had exploded with this revelation, and that we had started a hashtag of #ICalledHimSir, which had fan fiction authors in a writing Frenzy and if she, purely in the interest of inspiring us writers, would like to elaborate. (Truth be told- AT had just admitted to dreaming about Jack O'Neill, we wanted the juicy details!)

"Oh god, I just poured gasoline all over that, didn't I?" She said, laughing.

"Our shippy hearts exploded" I answered, "and confetti went everywhere."

Here's to Amanda Tapping, the Grand Empress of Sci Fi, her fantastic Dream Train and the fandom that brought us all together.

Choo Choo!

**Pictures of Amanda's hilarious reactions can be found by searching the Hashtag: #ICalledHimSir on Twitter **

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A DAY LIKE NO OTHER

It's a cold, sunny morning in October, and she needs him.

Desperately.

She dresses quickly in the red sweater dress he loves and zips her calf length boots up. She glances at her watch. Six forty am. No one will miss her until people start arriving at ten. And even if they do, they won't mention anything to her. Not today. She has time. She races down the hallway, calls for the young brunette to 'Hold the Elevator' and slips inside. Smiling politely, she reaches her hand out and presses the button for the parking lot, then taps her freshly manicured nails against the handrail.

The doors open with a ding and a whoosh and nodding at her travel companion, Sam exits and walks to her car, faster than normal, the urgency in her over riding her normal need for composure. She clicks the central locking open and sits into her Volvo, and is out of the garage and on the road in mere moments.

She wonders idly if she should text, warn him that she's coming this early but decides against it, as he will only try to change her mind. No, she decides, the element of surprise will work in her favour today.

She isn't far from his sanctuary, her suitcase is only seven miles from his door. No one knows he's here, no one is supposed to know except her, but it's where he always wanted to be. She couldn't imagine him anywhere else. She pulls off the road and slows to a crawl, as the local news announces that it's seven am, eager to completely take him by surprise. He's alone, only his beat up old truck sits in the driveway, but she's surprised to see smoke gently billowing from the wooden clad chimney this early.

She walks quietly to the front porch, and pauses to take in her surroundings. The subtle scent of smoke, evergreens and the unmistakable smell of fresh air. She turs her head, and sees the mist rising off the lake. In her haste she's forgotten a coat, and she can feel the chill on her face, and knows without needing a mirror, that her cheeks will be flushed pink. People always look better in the cold.

She tiptoes to the front door, leans in the most seductive way she can against the door frame, takes a deep breath and knocks quietly, then knocks again. He opens the heavy oak door several moments later, a mug of steaming coffee in hand, and stares wide eyed at her.

"Carter, what are you...?"

She allows her eyes to roam, beginning at his face, and down to his toes, then slowly back up again.

"Hello Sir," she purrs, "I haven't slept all night."

"Nice dress," he says, a large lopsided grin suddenly appearing on his face, "one of my favourites, but aren't you supposed to be doing something today, the reason we're all up here?"

"Couldn't wait any longer, Sir," she whispers, closing the gap between them.

She reaches out and takes his cup from his hand. She bends to place it on the floor of the porch, but looks up at him and winks, before straightening up again.

She leans in and whispers; "It's been too long already."

He reaches a hand out and pulls her towards him, and she feels him instantly harden against her lower belly.

"What time do you have to be back?" He queries, his lips grazing her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath them, his fingers now tracing small circular pattern on her hip bone.

"They won't miss me until ten, and even if they do, I don't care anymore. Need you."

"Better make it count then," he mutters, his lips connecting with hers, a sudden fire igniting between them.

He walks them backwards and kicks the door behind them, spins her and she's suddenly pressed against his front door, and he is pressed tightly against her, his hands on either side of her head. Just where she wants him to be. She kisses him, tastes him, claims his lips as her own and snakes her tongue out to beg entrance, which he gladly grants.

He's not yet shaved and the very slight stubble that has appeared overnight gently scratches her face. She hums her approval and he presses his hips against hers more firmly. His hands move from the door, down over her shoulders and he cups a swollen needy, wool covered breast in each hand and squeezes gently. She gasps, and her body lifts involuntarily from the door, which draws a moan from his lips.

"Shit Sam," he says into her mouth, his erection now pressing through his sweat pants, against her belly. His hands roam her slim waist, the curve of her hips, the swell of her ass and then gently starts tugging her dress up. She widens her stance to give him more access and he rewards her by reaching a hand into her panties. His fingers find their target and she whimpers when he presses gently then swirls around her needy bud. He runs his fingers between her parted folds and back to her center, where he gently strokes her, pulling moans and sighs and panted breaths from her.

Her eyes are closed and she's moving against his fingers, but she needs more. She whispers that she needs him inside her, she needs to be full of him and he kisses her and tells her to turn around, bend over, and place her hands on the door. She does as he's asked, feels her panties being dragged down her legs and steps out of them when he taps first the left, then the right boot. Her dress is around her waist, and the thought of the view he has, her bare ass, black boots and dress pushed up, turns her on more than she expects. She hears him push his own pants down his legs and then his hands are on her waist and he's pushing into her. She cries out, he feels like warm velvet and he fills her so completely that it's all she can do to not climax there and then. He grasps her hips and begins to thrust into her, slowly at first but they soon build up rhythm that has the quiet morning air suddenly full of the sounds of their bodies taking what they need from each other. She drops her hand between her legs and swirls her fingers around the slick bundle when he reaches a hand into her hair and tugs, the combined feeling bringing her close to her final exhilarating high.

"Jack," she cries, "oh Jack, I'm close..."

She feels his fingers dig into her hip and his hand tighten in her hair, his breathing suddenly rough and panting, and knows he is as close as she is. She rubs faster and feels the beginning of her climax spiral out from deep within her belly.

She cries out his name, as he does hers when they reach their peak one after another, and her body shakes with the intensity of her orgasm. Her descent from euphoria is slow, and it's several moments before she feels confident enough to form a coherent sentence.

"So good, so worth sneaking out for." She whispers, still bent over, leaning against the heavy oak door, the scent of treated wood and his aftershave mingling into a delicious combination.

"That was ... yeah, so worth you sneaking out for." He agrees, blowing out a long breath.

She straightens up, turns and is surprised to see him as disheveled as she feels, hair tousled, cheeks flushed and still trying to catch his breath.

"It's been a while."

"A while since what?" She queries.

"Since you called me Sir."

"If that's the welcome I get, I'll call you sir every time I see you." She replies. "I think you like it."

"Yes I do. Do you have time for breakfast?" He asked, bending to pull his sweats back up.

"If it's a quick one," she replies, wiggling her dress back down and bending to retrieve her panties. I'll be back in a moment, just running to the restroom."

She returns, to a steaming cup of coffee and a freshly toasted bagel with cream cheese on his counter, which she eats eagerly.

She stands to leave and he catches her hand in his. "Save a dance for me later?"

"Always." She replies, squeezing his hand, leaning in for a kiss and then walking back towards her car.

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Sam glances at her watch while the elevator carries her to the seventhth floor. Nine forty five am. She made good time. She walks down the hall towards the Bridal suite and waves her keycard in front of the digital display. The door clicks open, she enters and her eye is immediately drawn to the white lace gown hanging from the rail in the far corner of the silent room. She wonders what the others would think if they knew where she'd been this morning, and more importantly, who she had been with. Daniel would probably frown, Teal'c would raise his eyebrow and say very little and Vala, well, she would just grin knowingly.

She shakes the thought from her mind when she hears the gentle knock on the door that signifies the real beginning of her day, her room suddenly filled with smiling faces, excited laughter, beauty products and hair stylists.

A bunch of pale blue roses are delivered with a note, and although she instantly knows who they're from, she reads it eagerly.

"Good luck today Carter. Knock 'em dead...

-J x "

At one fifteen , she stands in front of the full length mirror, top to toe in delicate lace, the third finger on her left hand sparkling in the sunshine cascading through the French doors.

"Are you ready Samantha Carter?" Tealc asks from where he stands in the doorway, looking handsome in his black tuxedo, a fitting stand in for her absent father.

"Yes Teal'c, I'm ready." She replies, picking up her flowers and running her fingers over the delicate locket bearing the photo of Jacob Carter, the chain of which, has been intricately woven through her bouquet.

They ride the elevator again, this time to the second floor, where the banquet room has been prepared for her impending nuptials.

She stands at the back of the procession and watches as her niece Sadie, then Cassie , Vala and Mark's wife Josie walk ahead of her. She squeezes Teal'c's hand tightly and he leans in as Josie reaches the alter and the string quartet strike up The Wedding March.

"Samantha Carter, tell me, when did you first know that you were in love with O'Neill?"

She looks towards the alter, where he is standing, Daniel by his side, smiling and waiting for her.

"The first time I called him Sir, Teal'c," she replies, as she begins the walk towards her General, and the start of the rest of her life.