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She was looking at her cup, her hands grasping it tightly as if for warmth. Her knuckles were white and he realized that she was afraid. A wave of tenderness washed over him and he reached out and gently covered her hands with one of his.
"It's okay, Sam," he said. "I'm happy that you've brought it up."
"You are?" her eyes lifted briefly and met his.
"Yes," he smiled, "I didn't have the guts to do it."
"Oh." She looked down again, this time at the large, capable and oh-so-comforting hand that covered hers. With a deep breath she again lifted her head.
"I need to know Sir -"
"Jack, not Sir."
The side of her mouth lifted in a slight smile and she nodded. "Yes, you're right. So, Jack I need to know whether I should continue this conversation or not," she told him. "If – you'd rather we kept that door closed and remain friends and colleagues, I'll understand. I don't want to lose what we have. But," and here she took another deep breath, "but, if there's a chance for more, I'd like to take it."
For being terrified, which he knew she was, she certainly handled that calmly and cleanly and – she left him with a perfect out, if he wanted it.
But he didn't want it. Not at all.
With a slow smile he reached out with his free hand and pried her hands away from the coffee cup. He then took both of them in his.
"Sam." He waited until she was looking directly at him. "There's nothing I'd like more than to open that damn door. It's been closed for long enough."
"Really?" she said softly, hopefully.
"Really," he nodded. "But like you, I don't want to lose what we have. So promise me – if we – do this thing, and for some reason it doesn't work, we'll stay friends. I don't ever want to lose you."
She smiled at him and squeezed his hands. "We'll stay friends," she agreed. Inside they both knew that it was impossible to promise such a thing – but both of them would try their damndest, if it ever came to that.
They sat there in silence, their hands clasped tightly. They continued to look at one another, but, as their coffees grew cold neither of them knew quite what to say.
"Well," Jack said humorously, "I have no idea what to do now."
"Neither do I," she giggled softly.
"I'm glad you came Sam," he said then. "Thank you for having the courage to do this."
"Well, I figured I should do it before we both ended up in the nursing home," she told him with a snort. "We've let a lot of years go by and I didn't want to end up with a life of "what-ifs."
"I'm afraid I'll be in that nursing home long before you," he said with a frown. Suddenly the age difference, which he'd spent years telling himself was a reason not to hope for anything with Carter, rose its pesky head.
Sam snorted and rolled her eyes. "Pu- lease Sir," she drawled. "You have more energy than a lot of ten year olds I know. And with all the time you spent in the sarc– uh – box," she quickly looked around and then focused back on him, "you'll live to be 150."
"Do you know a lot of ten year olds?" he asked her.
"Well no – except my nephew and niece – oh, and Daniel."
He smirked, thinking about their 10 going on a 100 year old friend. A moment later, however, and his smile faded. "You're sure? You could find a much younger man – someone your own age."
"Pfft," she said rudely. "They're boring."
"All of them?"
"The ones I've met. In fact S – Jack, you're the most interesting man I've ever known."
He couldn't help the wash of pleasure and pride at her comment. For Samantha Carter, genius, superstar, kick-ass soldier, officer and all around amazing person to think he was interesting - well, he was pretty sure his head had just swelled ten sizes.
Feeling that it was his duty, and to make sure she knew what she was getting into, he decided to put everything on the table.
"I can be impatient, especially with stupidity," he told her.
She laughed. "Really? Jack, how long have I known you? I think I know that about you. And the fact is, so am I."
"You Carter?"
"Yes. I just hide it better."
"I can't be bothered."
"Oh, I know. What else?"
"Huh?
"Well, you seem intent on discouraging me, so I'd like to know what other "secrets" you want to share."
"Oh. Well – let's see. I like the Simpsons."
"D'uh," she said with a roll of her eyes, causing him to laugh. "Okay, I'll embrace The Simpsons – although I refuse to concede Burns as Goa'uld."
"We'll talk more about that later," he told her seriously, although with a twinkle in his eye.
"What else?"
"The Stanley Cup takes precedent over all other TV."
"Okay, I can live with that. What else."
"Hmm," he frowned, trying to think of something she didn't know about him. He realized that there really wasn't much of anything. Except …
"Uh," he pulled his hands back and this time wrapped them around his mug. "I – go to Charlie's grave on special days. Sara – my ex-wife – and I meet there. She has her own life now – I mean, I don't still – we're not – I barely see her, but those days are important to both of us and I'd want to continue."
"Oh Jack," she said softly, reaching out to him. "Of course! Please know that I understand how important Charlie is to you and I'd never, ever interfere with that. I – honor you – for remembering him that way. And I'd never be jealous of Sara."
"There's no need to be," he said with a small smile. "She and I are friends, nothing more. We'll always have Charlie between us, but both of us have moved on."
"Thank you for telling me," she answerd.
He was quiet for a moment, thinking about the fact that life was suddenly opening up for him in a way it hadn't since before Charlie's death. He felt a surge of gratitude for the woman opposite him.
"I probably snore," he told her. Oops – maybe it was too soon to bring up sleeping issues. They hadn't even kissed for god sake.
"Daniel says I do too," she told him. Suddenly her cheeks blossomed and she looked horrified. At his raised eyebrows she began to babble.
"On missions," she said quickly. "When we were sleeping together – I mean bunking together on missions. Daniel and I have never – he's not – he's a friend," she said, almost angrily. "There has never been anything improper between us."
"It's okay Sam," he laughed. "I didn't think there had been. I know you and the Space Monkey are just friends – good friends."
"Oh good. I didn't want you to think there was anything between us."
"No, that's okay. Now I did wonder about you and Teal'c."
"What?" she screeched. A second later she laughed. "Right – and Ishta would kill me. He's a friend as well."
"Good, because I wouldn't want to have to fight Teal'c for you."
"You'd fight?" she asked, sounding very pleased with the idea.
"For you? Absolutely."
"That's so sweet Jack," she told him. "And I'd fight for you too."
"I know," he grinned. "That's why I love you."
Of course that stopped the conversation dead. Jack looked, for a moment, like a drowning fish. Sam also looked stunned – and her face turned pink again. Anyone looking on the scene would wonder if some magical power had frozen the two people into statues.
It was Jack who blinked – literally – first. "Uh – sorry – I didn't mean to say that."
"Oh," she looked down, feeling kind of disappointed.
"It's not that I didn't mean it," he continued gently. "It's just that I don't want you to feel pressured this soon."
What? Had he just said - implied he meant it? She lifted her head and stared at him. A couple of blinks and his face came back into focus. He was looking serious and sincere and – his face shone with his feelings for her. She felt warmth flood her body and her heart began to beat faster.
"I don't – feel pressured I mean," she clarified quickly when his face began to fall. "And I feel the same – even if it is too soon to say."
They were suddenly both incredibly pleased with one another, and themselves. They would probably have sat there, staring into each other's eyes all day, if the waitress hadn't appeared to top up their practically full coffee cups.
"Is it okay?" she asked, concerned.
"What?" Jack frowned up at her.
"The coffee. Is something wrong with it?"
Jack looked in confusion down at his cup and then his brow cleared. "No, it's fine. Sorry, we were in a serious conversation. Can we have fresh cups?"
A moment later the waitress had returned with clean cups and again filled them with hot coffee. After she walked away Jack and Sam completely ignored them and continued to look at each other.
"So, what now?" he finally asked.
She shrugged and began to again play with her cup. "I don't know. I'm still in Colorado, and you're here so -"
"So, that's going to make it awkward," he agreed. "Still, maybe it's not a bad thing."
"Why not?"
"Well, it will allow us to go slow – not that I want to – go slow that is – but we're going to need to redefine our relationship. You've reported to me for a lot of years and we need to establish more of an – equal – relationship."
"So I can say no to you and tell you to go to hell if I get mad at you?"
"Well yes – but I hope you don't – tell me to go to hell."
"I'm just kidding. Of course not – although I may give you a hard time, now that I can."
"Sam, you could always give me a hard time if you wanted to. You were just a bit more – subtle – about it."
She grinned in pride. "So, we go slow and work on developing a new way of dealing with one another."
"Uh huh," he agreed. "And we can do it without the prying eyes of our nosey friends."
"Daniel, Teal'c, Cassie," she nodded.
"And Walter. Don't forget Walter."
"Right. And Ferretti."
"Landry."
"Griff."
"Dixon."
"Castleman."
"Joe."
"Joe?"
"The barber."
"Oh yeah – do you still see him?"
"Yup. He's a nice guy."
"Okay. So no prying eyes."
"And you won't get sick of me," he told her.
"You think I'll get sick of you?"
"If we lived in the same place? Yes, definitely. Because I'd be over all the time – sitting on your front porch, waiting for you to get home, sitting on your couch, following you to work – in fact, I'd be a total pest."
"That actually sounds great Sir."
"Sir?"
"Jack," she grinned. "It's gonna take some getting used to."
"Mmm hmm. That's why you're still gonna be Carter."
"Carter, not Sam?"
"Sam sometimes – but I love Carter."
"Just no "Colonel" – not when we're alone."
"No?" he waggled his eyebrows. "Never? I kind of like the thought of -" he stopped suddenly.
"Of?
"Nope," he grinned, although he looked a little uncomfortable. "Too soon."
"Oh." She blinked and then giggled softly. "This is strange, isn't it?"
"It is?"
"Yes, well here we are discussing our relationship and we haven't even -" this time she stopped.
"We haven't, have we? Well, we'll just have to remedy that."
"We will?" she smiled more widely. "When?"
He grinned at her and then suddenly thought of something and looked down at his watch. "Damn," he said. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to head back to work. I have some things I have to finish. But – when do you have to go back?"
"To Colorado?"
"Yeah."
"Tomorrow morning."
"Damn. I tell you what. I'll head back to the office and finish up my work and meet you for dinner. We can spend the evening together. Where are you staying?"
"Actually, I have to find a hotel," she told him. "I came to your office straight from the airport."
"Not to General Iverson's?" he asked her.
She rolled her eyes. "Okay fine, I admit it! I didn't come to see General Iverson, I came to see you."
"And I'm happy you did," he said softly, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "So why don't you stay at my place." He held up his hand quickly. "I have a guest room and I promise to be on my best behavior."
She smiled and nodded. "If you're sure? I mean about me staying there, not about being on your best behavior."
"I'm sure – at least about you staying with me," he grinned. "And yes, about the other too."
"Then that sounds perfect. What time are you done and where should I meet you?" she asked, wishing that he was free to spend the whole day with her, but knowing she was lucky that he had his evening free. She suspected that he was often busy.
"Do you have anywhere to go today?"
"No, not really. I thought I'd wander around the city a bit."
"Look, why don't you go to my place? I'll give you my keys and you can drop your bag there. You can either hang out there, or wander around, if that's what you want. I'll try to leave a bit early and can be back by 5:30. We'll go out somewhere nice."
"That sounds great, if you don't mind?"
"As long as you don't blow up my toaster or reroute my cable I'm fine."
"Jack, I haven't exploded a toaster in years. As for your cable – well I'll try not to do anything too radical."
He laughed and pushed back his chair. "I hate having to leave you," he said, sounding serious. "But it will just be a few hours."
"That's okay," she told him as she too stood. "I just dropped in on you without warning so I appreciate that you were able to take time out of your day to spend with me."
"There's no one I'd rather spend time with than you," he said gently. "Let's go." He threw $10 on the table then reached out and took her hand. Together, hand-in-hand, they walked out to his car.
He walked to her side and opened the door for her.
"What a gentleman," she said, half teasingly.
"Oh, I know you're perfectly capable of opening your car door," he told her, still standing beside her. "But it allows me to do this." With that he put his hands on the car on either side of the open door and leaned forward to gently put his lips on hers.
She reached forward and grasped his jacket with her hands and returned the kiss.
Jack's kiss wasn't hard or demanding or particularly passionate. She knew this wasn't the time or place for that. Instead, it was soft and gentle and full of caring and friendship and – something more, much more. As he pulled his lips from her she knew it had been just a taste – a taste of something more.
She could hardly wait.
