Suppression Chapter 10

"Excuse me?"

Jack wasn't sure whether the archaeologist was being deliberately obtuse or whether it was simply his tired brain unable to assimilate this change in routine. Jack gritted his teeth. Now was not the time to lose his temper; it was taking him a certain amount of courage to do this and having Daniel put obstacles in the way of his wavering determination was not to anyone's benefit. The desire to simply push the archaeologist's nose in the glutinous mud was, however almost too tempting to deny.

Daniel must have read something dangerous in Jack's expression because he suddenly began to backtrack, allowing the older man access to the tent.

As Jack pushed through the second flap of the entrance he could see Sam had already laid out her sleeping bag leaving plenty of room for Daniel's. Her boots had been left by the entrance so as not to muddy the remainder of the interior but Jack noted that her weapon was close to hand. Ever the professional. He frowned aware that the conversation he had in mind was as far from professional as--.

"Daniel, do you think the Colonel was--."

"Er...Carter..." he watched Sam's head whip round, surprise swiftly followed by embarrassment clouding her eyes.

"Sir?" Her eyes returned to the flap expecting Daniel to follow behind.

"We switched."

"Switched?" She couldn't help the chariness in her voice. They hadn't shared a tent in a long, long time.

"Yeah." Jack proceeded to remove his cape and boots, massaging his knee once the muddied footwear had been removed. He groaned softly. "Agh, that feels better."

He could feel her eyes on him when he began to rummage through his pack to remove his sleeping bag and a towel. Unrolling his bag next to Sam's he then sat on it and began to towel dry his hair. He then took out a small notebook he kept in his upper jacket pocket and proceeded to write some notes. Feeling eyes still on him he looked up, but Sam was suddenly studiously involved in her own notes.

For a moment more than necessary his gaze remained on her; it had been longer than he cared to remember since he'd taken the time to study her, to watch the way she brushed the hair back from her face, or the way her eyebrows crinkled when she was deep in thought or the way those brilliantly blue eyes... He stilled, realizing that those eyes were now regarding him closely.

"Find anything interesting?" he demanded then his eyes automatically dropped; he didn't look up. If he had, he would have seen the amused warmth in his colleague's eyes as she stared at his hair which was sticking up in every direction possible.

"Perhaps." It was said in such a way that Jack's eyes darted up, puzzled, but again Sam had dropped her gaze to her notes.

"And?" Jack's tone was more demanding but Sam refused to be pushed.

"Too early to say yet, Colonel."

He grimaced. Not known for his patience, he wondered whether it was just him seeing more into their few words of double entendre.

Sam smiled to herself. She was actually enjoying herself and it was a revelation. She could sense her CO's disquiet but rather than bend over backwards in an attempt to alleviate this, she was gaining some quiet satisfaction from it. It was so rare to see the colonel as anything but fully in control without a single doubt on his mind, that now, in this confined space with the sound of the rain and sleet slapping rhythmically down on the tent, Sam found herself revelling in this rarely seen side of her CO's personality.

She produced an energy bar from her pocket, unwrapped it and began to lazily chew on the food, making no attempt to initiate further conversation.

"So..."

Sam raised her head which had been resting on her raised knees, waiting expectantly.

Jack looked uncertain. She continued to wait.

"So...have you been given your papers yet?" He was referring to her transfer from the SGC to Area 51.

"Papers?"

He frowned. Was she trying to be difficult as well? Her expression seemed open, but...

"Carter, have you forgotten your transfer?" His tone was exasperated.

"Oh that." She said it as if it were the last thing on her mind. She shrugged, but still kept him waiting a little longer. "Not yet, but it shouldn't be long now. General Hammond said he'd see it was given prompt processing."

"Oh." Jack had begun to play with the pencil, turning it, attempting to see if it would stand on its own, then flicking it up like a coin. "Not much of a last off-world mission, huh?" He looked up slowly, a faint, hesitant smile making Sam's breath catch in her throat.

Aware of her increased breathing, she looked down, blinking hurriedly. "Er...there's time for it to improve...Colonel."

He stared fixedly at her but she wasn't about to look up. He hesitated, his hands clenched around the pencil.

"Carter, I...I..."

She couldn't fail to hear his mumbled expletive and hid her smile.

However, his next move startled her it was so unexpected. Mind you, when going over it later in her mind, she didn't know what she was expecting. But lunging for his boots and stuffing his feet into them wasn't one of them nor were his sharply spoken words, "I'll go check around, make sure everything's in order."

"Sir, it's blowing a storm!" she protested, eyes wide in surprise.

"Get some sleep, Major. We'll need to make up time tomorrow; it'll be an early start."

"But, Colonel--."

It was as if she hadn't spoken and trying hard not to shake her head at what she considered a futile exercise, she watched him leave the tent.

Outside, he pushed the hood of his cape back and raised his hot face to allow the chilling sleet to cool the heat of his blood. There was no point looking around, visibility was, he decided, even worse than when they'd set up camp.

Carter had been right, he thought morosely, it was a complete waste of time and energy coming out here but he was wound so tight and in the confines of that small area he felt like a time-bomb about to explode. He needed more control, to bring his thoughts under some semblance of order and having Carter an arm's breadth away wasn't helping the situation one little bit. All he had to do was reach out... He screwed his eyes shut tight but a vivid picture of her doing the Latino dance looking so damned hot and...

"Ja-ack? What are you doing?"

Shit! He twisted round to find Daniel's head peeking out from behind his tent's flap, trying his best to keep dry. He had that perplexed look in his eyes that he usually wore when he was trying to decipher something particularly complex. Jack wasn't happy that the look was fixed on him.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Daniel?" he replied witheringly, hoping his own sarcasm would do the trick and put his friend on the defensive. It didn't work.

"It looks like you're just standing there." The archaeologist couldn't help himself; he had to ask the obvious. "Jack, aren't you getting wet?"

All too aware that Carter would be able to hear this conversation, Jack gritted his teeth and attempted a show of indifference.

"I'm just going to check the perimeter, make sure everything's as it should be...Is that okay with you, Daniel?" he inquired dryly.

The younger archaeologist didn't reply immediately, still giving Jack that mystified look as if he wasn't quite sure whether he should stay or go, but having made up his mind that it was too cold to keep his head out, he nodded, and withdrew back into the security of his own tent.

Jack swore under his breath well aware that Carter must by now be wondering what on earth was going on. Kicking out at a clump of mud to defuse his hot temper, he checked that his weapon was well protected by his cape and then proceeded to walk in an easterly direction away from their sodden campsite.

Rain obscured everything. Not that there was a lot to see. The planet was a virtual plain of soil that was tediously muddy, dragging at their booted feet and slowing their progress. Jack had barely walked a hundred metres when he looked back - the tents were invisible. It was as if he had appeared from nowhere and was going nowhere.

He shivered finding the planet oppressive in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on; he would be glad when this mission was over, except...

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Sam checked her watch, the third time in as many minutes and chewed on her bottom lip. The colonel had been gone more than half an hour which wouldn't have caused her any undue alarm except that there was nothing to see out there, nothing to do. The planet was uninhabited - not even a sign of animal life. So what was keeping him?

Having heard the conversation between him and Daniel outside their tents, she had been aware of the irritation in her CO's voice. He had obviously wanted to be left alone and so if she radioed him, he might be none too pleased and let her know this fact. Relieved that they were able to even have a conversation, Sam was not thrilled at the idea of annoying her CO again. The last occasion had been exhausting, definitely not to be repeated. Time was short; she needed to make the most of what little they had together. However...her watch indicated that another minute had passed.

Damn, where the hell was he?

Putting her head out of the flap entrance, she narrowed her eyes attempting to see through the murky downpour. It was hopeless and she retreated inside, and as her worry increased so her temper grew shorter, her hands clenching at the thought of giving him a good smack. Honestly, he was like a child sometimes, a very annoying child who really did deserve--.

She heard a noise outside and hurried on her knees to the entrance just as a very wet, very muddy colonel reappeared. She scuttled backwards to keep as much distance as possible from the goblets of mud that seemed to be stuck everywhere to him, even...

Worry instantly changed, not to anger as she'd expected, but to amusement. She dropped her eyes and turned away to hide the smile that was tugging at her lips. It would simply not do to be found--.

"Something amusing you, Carter?" The question was ground out stonily.

Fighting to conceal her humor, she bit hard on the inside of her mouth, and schooled her features to parade-ground inscrutability, then taking a deep breath she turned back to face him.

He stood covered from head to foot in grey, cloying mud and from what she could see; only his weapon had escaped the sludge.

"Er...no, Sir...Um, did you have an accident?"

Clearly not appreciating her line of questioning he swore colorfully and proceeded to divest himself of his cape, cap and boots, but it wasn't enough. His pants were also covered in the muck and after a moment's hesitation he unbuckled and allowed them to drop in a heap next to the other discarded items of clothing.

"Can I do any--?"

"No!"

"Are you okay?" She had to make sure of that.

"Do I look okay?" His tone was withering in its contempt as he searched around the tent obviously looking for something.

"Where the hell is the water, for crying out loud?"

"Er...the canteens must have been taken in by Daniel and Teal'c."

He swore volubly. Everything seemed to be conspiring against him. All he'd done was take an irritable swipe at a mound of mud and the next thing, he found himself laid out flat in a pond of the stuff, and now when he wanted to dampen his towel...

Smothering a smile that was threatening to reveal itself in all its glory, she dropped her gaze, resuming her position on her sleeping bag all too physically aware when he dropped down beside her, his small towel put to good use trying to get the mud off his hands, face and neck.

From the next tent, Daniel's voice made itself heard.

"Is everything okay in there?"

Lightning quick, Jack retorted glibly, "No, Daniel. Carter has just been swamped by the monster from the mud. You'd better get in here right away before she--."

"I read you loud and clear, Jack."

"I'm glad somebody does," he grumbled under his breath, resuming his half-hearted effort to rid himself of the grey filth. But it seemed Sam had had enough and having watched him make two failed attempts to remove some of the dirt, she reached over with a smothered exclamation and wrestled the towel from his grimy hands.

"Here, let me, Sir."

And ignoring the look of bristling indignation, she knelt before him and proceeded to find a clean spot on the material then went on to remove the smears he had consistently failed to remove. Once the towel was unfit for further repair work, Sam threw it into the pile of dirty clothes by the tent's entrance. Next she reached into her own pack and produced some tissues. Taking one she opened it, hesitated for just an instant and then held it determinedly to Jack's lips.

"Spit."

She watched his eyes narrow. She knew what that meant.

"Carter, I'm not two years old."

She raised twinkling eyes to meet his, the message within hers clearly disputing his statement, but instantly dropped her gaze as giving too much of her thoughts away. It seemed, however, that he had read her correctly as he growled his reproach, but somewhat to her surprise, he did as she had requested.

Tipping up his chin with her free hand she worked diligently, amazed at the amount of grunge he still had on him.

"Sir, what did you do - take a bath in it?"

He chose to ignore her question as being beneath his dignity.

She turned his head one way and having completed that, turned it the other exclaiming at the amount that had collected in his ears.

It was when she produced wet wipes that Jack bestowed on her his most damning and outraged glare yet.

"Couldn't you have used those earlier?"

He still hadn't recovered from having his face washed with his own saliva and had visions of the other SG teams learning of his ignominy. The tough guy persona that he had assiduously worked on would be shot to hell.

"How come I had to spit when you had those, for crying out loud?"

Barely pausing in her work, Sam merely replied, "They're for emergencies - I'd say the state of your ears falls into that category, Sir." She twisted a corner into a point and wedged it into his ear cavity.

"Ouch!"

Attempting to pull away, Sam precluded the move by keeping a firm hold on his chin.

"Damn it, Carter. Are you trying to drill for oil?" he demanded in wounded ire.

"Stop being such a--."

Her words froze as she caught the look on his face and remembered just who she was dealing with.

"You might just as well have used a scrubbing brush," he accused painfully, rubbing a hand over his reddened ear.

Sam just managed to prevent herself rolling her eyes and attempted to appease him.

"At least you're looking halfway to human now, Sir."

Jack's eyes did roll dramatically. "Well thanks for the vote of confidence!"

Chuckling good humoredly, Sam replied softly, "You're welcome, Colonel."

Suddenly aware that one of her hands was still resting on his shoulder and that he was still without pants - were those Simpson boxers he had on?! - she moved back to her own sleeping bag, took out an MRE and keeping all of her attention on the food, proceeded to consume it with gusto.

Jack eyed her pensively then giving his head a slight shake he got into his sleeping bag and turning his back to Sam, settled down to sleep.

"You're not eating, Colonel?" She sounded surprised.

"Not hungry."

Sam frowned, remembering that she'd thought he'd felt a little warm to her touch when she was cleaning him up. She'd put it down to his raised temper and thought nothing of it, but now...

"Sir, are you okay?"

She couldn't fail to hear his exasperated sigh as he turned over and offered her one of his very own special O'Neill looks.

"Tell me Carter, has Daniel been giving you lessons on how to annoy the hell out of me, 'cos I've got to admit, you're in the running for first prize?"

Then seeing the surprise on her face, he answered exaggeratedly, "I will be if I'm ever allowed to get some sleep!"

This certainly ensured Sam held her tongue.

For some time it seemed to her that her CO was having difficulty falling asleep and on a couple of occasions she thought she'd heard a muted groan, but soon the deep, even breathing of her companion filled the tent's interior encouraging her to follow suit.

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(Chapter 11 to follow)