AT MY DOOR, Part Two
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So, I had planned this to be a one-shot but reviewers agree that I should continue. So I shall, but only for a chapter or two more. I have some original novels that demand some loving and affection. We'll see. Depends on reviews. Thank you for reading! Onto the continuation of Jack and Sam's pathetic behind-the-scenes relationship…
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I got a call from Jack's secretary two days later. She sounded older with a trilling voice and annoying perkiness. I had just gotten out of the shower and had to run to get the phone so I sounded horribly out of breath and I was sure the woman could hear the water dripping all around me.
"Hello?" I huffed, holding up my towel. I was expecting a call from the Air Force about some medal ceremony in a few weeks. They needed to make sure my teeth matched my dress or some such crap.
"Is this Ms...? Uh, Sam?" she said. I chuckled. She was trying so hard to be proper.
"Yes this is Dr. Samantha Carter."
"Ah, Dr. Carter! This wouldn't be Colonel Carter, would it? I'm so sorry. I'm afraid General O'Neill only left me your first name and number in his date book. He has you written down for dinner on Saturday at 7:00. Would that be alright with you?" she rambled. I could tell why Jack hired her. She was pleasant enough not to want to wring her neck and did everything with Walter-like efficiency.
I had dinner with Landry and Teal'c on the base – he'd been trying out his new cooking skills, after mastering interior decoration the year before – but I'd just have to cancel. They'd understand. In fact, I'm afraid Teal'c might try to use me as a human sacrifice if Jack and I didn't finally give it a try.
"Yes, ma'am, Satur—" I began but was cut off by angry shouting and what sounded like someone snatching the phone away from the secretary.
Jack's voice rang through suddenly, making me pull up my towel even further as though he were in the room. "Hello? Hello?"
I laughed. "Hello, sir," I answered.
"Sorry about that!" he shouted as though in a hurry. It sounded like he had thirty people in the room with him, all calling for his attention. "They ask to know where I am every flippin' second and Maura thought I'd left your number to—Anyway! Forget about it. Are we good for Saturday?"
I laughed softly. "Yes, sir, I'll have my people call your people."
He chuckled dryly. "Ha. Ha. Ha. I don't have people, Carter. I have hired guns. Literally."
I heard Maura the Secretary laughing in the background. She stole the phone away from Jack again and all the voices seemed to move as though the mob were being dragged into Jack's office, which I still had never seen.
"He'll be flying to Colorado on Friday," Maura whispered. "Just so you know. And he'll never act it but I know for a fact he's excited."
"Oh?" I squeaked, my voice an octave higher. "Is that right?"
"Are you kidding? All he ever asks his old friends at the SGC is how Carter's doing. Has she blown up anything? Is she back from Atlantis? I didn't even know you had a first name, dear, but you're all I hear," she said with a laugh guffaw. It was starting to get annoyingly chipper again and I'd managed to soak my carpet through.
"I'm genuinely surprised," I lied.
I would have done the same if I didn't talk to him every week. I got my gossip straight from the source but I suppose he was too busy to ask me everything he wanted to ask. For once, I didn't envy his once complete lack of work ethic. Even when he had the lives of a dozen people in his hands, he didn't sound so stressed, had so much expected of him. He was a public figure now, which I could understand but only imagine. He couldn't just retire the way I did, not anymore.
We exchanged pleasantries and hung up and I was left with this strange sensation like I had a date but didn't at the same time. It was just Jack, whom I knew. I suppose there was no mystery there. We'd never really sat around and talked just us two but it hadn't hit me yet, the prospect of our relationship. The physical aspects of it certainly hadn't and it was better that way.
News of the date that wasn't the date had spread to all present and past members of SG-1 still planet-side, courtesy of Vala. Come Saturday, I still didn't know what to wear so she happily agreed to help. Well, she showed up at my place and asked me if the skirt and sensible shirt I was wearing were on the menu for tonight and insisted that I should burn it if I ever wanted to get laid again.
Obviously, I pushed her out of my house and locked the door. She understood. She still knocked on my door twice. Which is why I opened my door in a huff the third time when Jack was there, his cell phone to his ear. He saw me in the doorway, looking all angry and surprised and closed it without even saying goodbye. I thought I briefly heard a muffled group yelling on the other side. Quite loudly.
He pocketed the phone and I realized that he looked… fancy? As fancy as Jack O'Neill got. I looked down at myself, at the tight jeans and tight black top that, while casually sexy, were nowhere near his standards.
"Wow," I said. "I thought you were Vala."
He raised an eyebrow and looked down at his nice shoes. "Yea… I get that all the time. It's my sassy demeanor," he joked. "You ready?"
I shrugged. "I suppose."
He nodded towards his truck in the driveway. I felt like a kid getting picked up for school by the hot dad in the neighborhood carpool. I climbed up before he could open my door. He seemed to sort of fumble about, unsure whether he should have or not.
He turned towards me once he started the ignition, his brow furrowed questioningly. "Oh relax, Jack," I preemptively said. "If you start acting any differently, I may have to chuck you right here and now."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Stop hanging out with Vala. She's affecting your vocabulary. Next you'll be calling me Muscles and parading around in leather." He stopped for a moment, his hands on the steering wheel, before continuing, "Actually, that wouldn't be half bad."
I slapped his arm playfully and we were out of my driveway. He asked me about the everyday things like how that book I was writing was going and whether the two people capable of understanding it in this world liked it. I asked him about the state of affairs at DC and whether he'd be coming back to visit the base again soon. Teal'c cooking skills could not be missed.
Frankly, we talked about what we always talked about. Silly things. Everyday things. Jack's ridiculous observations on life. A seemingly endless contest to see who could do the best Simpsons impressions. A recollection of what planets had the best and worst taste.
By the time we finished eating, the restaurant was closing and I couldn't remember what I'd eaten or where we'd gone, only that I'd had a fabulous time and that it was nearing midnight. So fabulous that I didn't even notice that I'd drunk my 7th glass of wine until I was seeing double.
He apparently didn't have to pay, just nod at the owner in the back and wave and it was all good. I hated when he did that but I got the idea that he wasn't exactly the type of guy to stay home and cook. He was probably a repeat customer, with a very large tab.
"Come on, Cinderella," he said, pulling my giggling ass up from my seat. He'd had a beer at the beginning of the night but that was it. I, however, had downed enough alcohol to think the sound of a truck backfiring was funny. Jack seemed to abuse my inebriation. He practically dragged me to the car. I think I fell asleep in the passenger's seat because he kept talking but my eyes were closed and I have no idea when we got to my front door.
He came around and helped pull me out, both laughing. "Where are your keys?" he asked at the front door.
"Back pocket," I slurred. He reached back and pulled out the keys, a smirk on his face. "Watch it, buddy."
"Hey, I'm not the one who attacks innocent young Colonels in locker rooms," he countered, pushing in the door. It got stuck sometimes and we had to both give it a kick, still laughing like drunken bastards.
"I was under the influence of an alien virus!" I said. "As I am now. I call said virus alcohol. Let it go down in the books."
He didn't bother with a response. I practically fell through the door and we landed on the carpet. "Carter, I'm getting too old for this!" he hissed. "And I have to get up at 7:00 so you damn well better get your ass to bed. That's an order!"
"I'm retired!" I called back. "God, we're pathetic at this."
He set me down on the couch and looked around for a throw or a blanket. I pointed at the fireplace. There was a basket with a few folded up on the floor. He brought one up to me and spread it out, covering my freezing body. I didn't even realize I was cold until I went to talk and could suddenly hear my teeth chattering.
"Pathetic at what?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch. He leaned over me and, for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me like something out of Snow White. I smiled brightly.
"At relationships. We're awful. Look at us. We can't even get through a single date without being interrupted or shipped off to another galaxy or so drunk we can't move," I said, my eyes rolling back into my head.
"I thought we did pretty well tonight," he answered, his tone a tad sadder.
I opened my eyes and tried to sit up a bit, almost bumping heads with him. His hands grabbed hold of my shoulders, steadying me and keeping me away at the same time. "What d-d-do you mean?" I stammered. "We did the same thing we always do. We talked."
He smirked but he still wouldn't get any closer. I figured he wouldn't take advantage of me while drunk. He wouldn't even take advantage of me when I really was oh so memorably attacking him in locker rooms thirteen years ago.
"Look, Sam… It's what we are. We talk. We have fun. What more do you want in a relationship?"
He was completely serious but I was hardly in any condition to respond. Maybe he knew this and was hoping I'd forget it in the morning but it took more than seven glasses of wine to bring me down. I was used to whiskey shots with my father, brother, and half the United States Armed Forces. I sat up fully and took his face in my hands. I couldn't quite focus on his features but the graying hair was all I needed to know it was him.
"I want it to feel different," I confessed, getting teary-eyed all over again. I sniffed it all down, trying to hide my puffy eyes as an effect of the alcohol. "It still feels like we're just friends. I want to feel different when I'm around you."
"Different? Different how?"
"I want to feel loved, instead of just admired!" I confessed. Oh yes. That was the wine talking. But, as someone Daniel probably knows once said, in vino veritas. In wine, truth. "I love you. You know that. So why don't I ever feel that way with you?"
"What do you feel when you're with me?" he asked but by the way he looked at my lips, he honestly didn't care. For a split second, I realized I'd just confessed my love for him but, then again, he already knew that.
"Safe!" I shouted. I seemed steady enough on the outside, I knew, but my hands were ice cold and his cheeks were growing warmer under my fingertips. "You make me feel safe but you don't make me feel wanted."
"Well, you can't blame me. I wasn't exactly allowed to do that before last week."
I chuckled because he'd leaned so close to me that he was whispering into my cheek, tickling my skin. I dropped my hands to his shoulders, then his waist, pulling him closer. I knew he'd stop me eventually.
"So what are you saying? You want me?" I said with a laugh. It was true. He hadn't exactly shown me much affection the last oh, decade. And again, it was true that he hadn't been allowed to. And, again, it was also true that while I'd had quite a few suitors my years at the SGC, he'd only ever had me. Loved me. He didn't have to say it for me to know. He never had to speak again. I could read it in his eyes, even drunk.
"Yes," he whispered, kissing my jawbone softly. "I want you."
I moaned his name and threw my head back, mainly because it'd suddenly gotten too heavy. The kisses trailed so slowly that my thighs trembled beneath the blanket, my skin once again shivering though, this time, much lower and much stronger.
His lips reached mine and he wrapped his arm around my waist to keep me from collapsing back onto the sofa. "And tomorrow," he whispered, "I'll be sure to remind you."
I groaned like a petulant child as he rested me gently back down onto the sofa. "You're no fun," I mumbled, my eyes closing.
"That's what you get when you date older guys," he added just before giving me one final, soft kiss, and standing up. I felt his weight lift off the couch but my eyes were closed and I was too tired to open them again till morning. He wished me a good night and, a few moments later, I heard the door close behind him and his truck drive away.
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Forgive errors! It's unedited. It should prove steamier soon when Jack announces a few things. No, I'm not going to write a sex scene… unless you really, really beg. Lol.
REVIEWS make Sam freak out once sober, which always serves for a good laugh.