Disclaimer: Not my characters.

A/N: Refining as quickly as possible while pumpkin bread bakes filling my house with lovely smells that make me think of Sam and Jack frolicking in the snow (or bed, whichever). This had not been beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.


Sitting on the sofa with the lights of the Christmas tree twinkling, Sam felt more relaxed than she thought possible. They'd trekked through the woods, Jack carrying an axe, and looking like every woman's rugged fantasy, until they found they perfect tree. She hadn't had a tree in years. After her mother died, celebrating Christmas meant a few gifts, usually money, and going out for Chinese. The delight she felt at picking out a tree with the Colonel, no, with Jack, made her feel giddy. She thought back to how much more fun it had been than she'd thought when they first set out.

They had walked silently through the thick snow before Sam could speak.

"I thought you weren't fond of trees."

Jack turned back to her and smiled impishly. "I don't like foreign trees. You know, trees on another planet. I like my trees."

"Ah, I see. Completely different then."

"Well, I suppose it does look a bit like P4X, um, something, something, something. You know, the planet with all the snow? Not Antarctica. The one with all the tree."

Sam thought for a moment. There had been loads of planets and trying to remember each one was not always easy. "Pathowa?"

"Ah, yes, Pathowa. Friendly people. Lovely planet. If you don't mind freezing your ass off." The walked a bit more before he pointed to a beautiful snow covered tree. "What do you think, Carter? Look good?"

She studied the tree for a moment. It was about six feet high and symmetric, which appealed to her scientific side. She nodded and Jack set about chopping it down. Sam stood back and appreciated the way he moved. Unfortunately, he was done all too quickly and they were dragging it back to the cabin.

"You know, I'm really surprised the Goa'uld don't celebrate Christmas," Jack commented.

She stopped and tilted her head at him. "What? Why?"

"Well, you know, it seems like it would appeal to them. Fancy clothes, ostentatious decorations, gold and silver. Just seems like something they'd appreciate. Apophis would make a great Santa, don't you think?"

Sam burst out laughing at the image of Apophis dressed up as Santa was too much. "Sir," she hiccupped. He gave her a stern look. "Jack. It's cold out here. Please don't make me suck too much cold air into my lungs. I have no desire to have them frozen."

"Ah, not to worry. I'd give you CPR, Carter."

Sam tried really hard not to imagine what that would be like and failed miserably. It just might be worth it.


The stress of the morning drained away and they were back to being friends and coworkers who knew each other in ways no one else could. After the tree had been decorated, he insisted on baking cookies and then building a snowman. The snowman building morphed into forts where they lobbed snowballs back and forth until they were both soaked and pink cheeked from cold and exertion and finally called a truce. He'd come in the house with much more snow on him than she had, so secretly she thought she'd won. They both changed into dry clothes and drank hot chocolate to warm up. She smiled, reveling in the memory. Dinner had passed in laughter and happy conversation and now they sat, watching Holiday Inn, which Jack assured her was the best Christmas movie ever made. She couldn't argue. It was Bing Crosby at his finest.

True to his word, Jack sat next to Sam on the sofa enjoying Christmas Eve for the first time in years. The day had been good. No, better than good. It had been great. Being with Sam had made the usual sadness that surrounded this holiday melt like the snow on their boots. Since Charlie died, he didn't think he'd ever be able to celebrate Christmas again, but she'd proven him wrong. She brought joy back and he struggled to keep from getting all sappy and telling her. Sitting there now, watching one of his favorite movies, he felt a contentment that reached to his soul. He had he urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. The hell with it, he thought. He was going to…

Sam's cell phone rang startling Jack from action. "Daniel!" Sam said almost breathlessly. Jack's eyes narrowed. She sounded too excited. Surely what he'd seen in the commissary wasn't real, was it? "Where are you guys?" She listened for a moment and turned a startled face to Jack. "What do you mean?" More talking on the other end. "Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh. But what about tomorrow?" Jack had the urge to lean closer to her so he could hear Daniel's responses. Her shoulders drooped. "No, I understand. Tell Teal'c I said Merry Christmas and I'll see you guys in a few days. Okay, yeah. Bye."

Jack knew the answer to the question, but asked anyway. "What's going on?"

Sam gulped. Jack almost laughed. She had actually gulped. "They're not coming. Their flight to Chicago was cancelled due to the snow and there aren't any more flights out. They're going to spend Christmas watching movies and eating fruitcake."

"Teal'c's gonna be sorry," was all he said.

Sam turned to face him. "Sir, isn't this, well, inappropriate?"

"Ja-ack," he drawled out his name. "Remember, I'm Jack for now, and there's not a whole lot we can do about it is there? Unless of course you want to drive to town and find a hotel." And shatter his heart in the process.

She shook her head. "I can't do that, Sir. Jack."

He quirked a grin at her. "Sir Jack. I like it. Now, are we going to finish this movie or what?"

Sam settled back and tried to turn her attention to the TV. Bing Crosby and Virginia Dale were singing a song, but all she could hear was the thumping of her own heart. She knew she shouldn't have flown up her without them. Now she was stuck in Jack's cabin that seemed to get smaller with each passing moment and could do nothing but try not to get drool all over him.

"Sam? Sam?" Jack's voice brought her out of her reverie yet again. "Earth to Sam. Everything okay? Want me to turn the movie off?"

She shook her head. "No, Sir. Jack. I quite like it. Maybe we can put on another one after this." Lord, anything to distract her. She'd even watch hockey or worse, fishing if it kept her mind off the very warm body sitting entirely too close to her. She looked up at the clock. Still only six thirty. There were a lot of hours left to the evening.

She was clearly uncomfortable and that did not make Jack happy. He'd thought she felt…well it didn't matter what he thought. He'd clearly been wrong. She did not want to be here and that was that. He tried not to grimace. "Yeah, sure. Ever watch The Bells of St. Mary?" She shook her head. "Well then, you're in for a treat. Old Bing works his musical magic again. If you don't cry at the end of it, you're dead inside." Like he felt. "I'm thinking of suggesting it as part of a Goa'uld detecting system. Make 'em watch and if they don't cry, Goa'uld."

She looked at him skeptically. "Do you cry at the end of it?"

He gave her a very stern look. "Maybe a little. If you tell anyone, I will kill you. I know how. I've been trained."


TBC

A/N: If you have never watched Holiday Inn, you are do not know what you're missing. Hubby and I watch it every year on Christmas Eve. It actually covers all the holidays, but begins and ends at the Christmas/New Year holidays. It is the first movie in which White Christmas was ever sung. It is brilliant.

On NY Eve, we watch The Bells of St. Mary, and ALWAYS tear up at the end. One year, my very own tough military officer made the comment that if you don't cry at the end of that movie, you are dead inside. It seemed like something Jack might say in a funny and slightly unguarded moment.