Chapter 5: A Woman of Many Talents

A/N: Enjoy!

Jack was in luck, not only did Sam remember several department stores that were near the Mall, she also remembered some of her favorite restaurants that were just a hop, skip, and a jump from the hotel she had gotten for the night. A hotel she had graciously offered to let him share with her.

"I don't mind getting a second room, Carter, I doubt they're all full."

"It's not like we don't share a tent all the time, sir. Trust me, your snoring doesn't scare me anymore."

"A hotel is a little diff—what do you mean, anymore?"

Sam had grinned playfully to hide the heat that suddenly poured through her at the thought of sharing a hotel room with the man walking next to her. He was right – a hotel room was different than a tent off world. For one, the rest of her team was not five feet away. For two, it was a hotel with the colonel.

Both Jack and Sam had told themselves it was fine, everything was fine. Maybe a little too fine.

"Sir, you have to come out at some point." Sam's impatient voice drifted through the heavy velvet curtain separating him from the rest of the shop. They'd popped into a large department store hoping for a one-stop, quick shopping trip.

It was proving to be more difficult that Jack had hoped. Oh, not because his major was being too particular…no, she had found the dress within two minutes of walking into the store. He was not exaggerating when he said that this dress was absolutely made for her – the short hemline fell somewhere between her knees and the last vestiges of sanity he had; the airy, dark blue material floating even higher when she'd given an experimental spin. All Jack could see was toned-Carter-legs and he'd swallowed a little too hard, nearly sending himself into a coughing fit.

And he'd tried not to pay too much attention to the top of the dress. Tiny straps held up a thin, dark blue V of material…not much was left to the imagination, but Jack was positive that a Nordstrom's fitting room was the not the place to let his 2IC in on the reg changes. Mostly positive.

Another glance at her in that dress and he wasn't sure of much anymore, let alone his own decision making skills. So he'd given her what he hoped was a blasé thumbs up and a casual "you look nice in that dress, major" and now it was his turn.

Except he was suddenly finding it very difficult to live up to the standard that Carter had inadvertently set when she had the nerve to look so damn hot in that dress. Nothing was fitting right, no color was flattering, and he was deeply annoyed that everything just looked so plain on him. When he got back to the mountain he was going to write several strongly worded letters to these so-called "fashion designers."

"Colonel." A distinctive note had entered Carter's voice…was that a whine? "Here." She flung something soft and dark over the top of the fitting room curtain, the material hitting him squarely in the face.

"I can dress myself, major."

"I'm having my doubts about that."

"I'm having my doubts about that, sir." He stressed. In truth, no matter which way tomorrow went, he wasn't going to be able to tease her quite like this anymore. He needed to stock up, just in case.

Other than a singular burst of laughter, he was met with silence.

"Carter." He growled, proud that it sounded even halfway convincing.

"Just try it on, sir." Okay, maybe not that convincing - he could practically hear her eyes rolling.

From the other side of the curtain, Sam heard him mutter under his breath something that sounded like "feels a lot like marriage already" but his voice was way too muffled to be sure. "What was that, colonel?"

"What was what, major?"

Sam squinched her eyes, but chose not to push it. "Did you put the sweater on, sir?"

"Yes."

Sam looked around in exasperation. "And? Can I see?"

"No." If ever he had sounded petulant, it was now.

"No because it doesn't look right?" Damn, she'd been sure she had chosen a winner. It was a dark blue cashmere sweater warm enough to combat the chill of a September DC night, but thin enough where he'd be comfortable indoors as well. And Sam wouldn't complain if he got a little warm and had to roll the sleeves to his elbows…

Shaking herself from a waste of imagination – he was literally wearing the sweater in real life, right behind that curtain – Sam stood and approached the fitting room. "Sir, if you don't come out, I'm coming in."

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes skyward. "You know, it's not fair to the rest of us mortals that your talents extend beyond science and combat." Jack ripped the curtain aside, loathe to admit that his cheeks were heating at the prospect of her appraisal.

"My talents extend even further than that." She replied distractedly, her mind going all but blank as she gave him a onceover. And then a twiceover. "Wow." The navy sweater, impossibly, made his broad chest look even broader and highlighted every muscle in his arms. The slacks, plain black with sharp creases, hugged every curve and muscle.

"Wow?" Jack turned back to the mirror, tugging the hem of the sweater nervously. As he glanced up in the mirror he could swear that his major was just looking at his –

"Wow, I'm really good." Flashing him a quick smile, Sam pulled the curtain back across his room and turned away hurriedly. He'd definitely caught her looking at his butt. Oops. "I think that's a winner, sir. Still up for dinner?"

"Mm." He agreed absently. She'd said wow. Looking closer at the mirror, he tried to see what she saw and knew he came up short. But if she said wow, then it must be okay.

As they made their way up to the front of the store, Jack grabbed a pair of jeans, pack of whatever the briefs on special were, and a 2-pack of plain black tees for sleeping and the plane ride home on Sunday. Carter hadn't actually invited him to stay with her the whole weekend, but he figured he'd rather be safe than sorry. Besides, she hadn't said anything when he'd stopped to grab them, so that had to be a good sign, right?

Sam had grabbed a pair of strappy silver heels as they passed the shoe department, not even bothering to try them on. When Jack had suggested that she maybe, you know, see if they fit first, Sam had just shrugged at him. "They're my size and they'll be better than my dress heels. I'm sure it'll be fine." Jack couldn't help but marvel that someone who approached literally every day at work with a scarily detailed and precise methodology could be so flippant while shopping and still nail every aspect.

Of course the shoes would fit.

They paid quickly and, scooping up both bags, Jack led the way outside and back into the chilled night air. Another couple of weeks and the nights here would definitely require a jacket. "Hungry, Carter?"

"Very." Sam meant to grab her bag from the colonel's chivalrous grasp, really, she had…but she'd overshot her aim and, instead, ending up tucking her hand between his palm and fingers. "Oh, sorry." Sam moved to pull her hand away, but a soft squeeze gave her pause.

"Not a problem, Carter." His voice was casual enough as he turned his head to make sure it was safe to cross the street. Too bad that just made Sam's heart beat faster.

Pulling her hand back reluctantly, Sam pointed out a couple of restaurants between where they were and where their hotel was. They landed on a little American steakhouse on a quiet corner of the street across from the hotel, the smell of butter and garlic too powerful to resist.

The meal passed in alternating bouts of companionable conversation and silence, their little bubble broken only by a few kind folks who thanked them for their service. It had been a really wonderful evening, Sam thought with a little surprise as they walked the short distance to the hotel. If someone had told her this morning that her day would consist of being called Mrs. O'Neill by strangers – and by the colonel-, inviting her CO to a wedding, then shopping for said wedding, and then having a completely normal dinner just the two of them…well, Sam would have laughed and asked just what that person had been smoking.

And yet, here she found herself, checking into a hotel with the only man in the world who could get her heart racing just by looking at her. "Hi, welcome." The young girl behind the concierge desk beckoned Sam and Jack over. "Checking in?"

"Yes," Sam answered, pulling her ID out of her wallet and handing it to the girl whose nametag read 'Renee.' "Under Carter."

"I've got you here, ma'am, staying two nights?"

"Yep."

"Excellent, thank you so much for choosing us during your visit to Washington." Sam was mildly impressed that Renee managed to sound genuine when she said that. "Will you and Mr. Carter be needing the key to the in-room mini bar during your stay?"

Sam's eyes flew to meet the colonel's eyes – that was a new one. 'Finally.' Sam thought with no small amount of victory. Seeing the glee that Sam was sure was written all over her face, Jack leaned forward. "No, no I don't think we will. Thank you."

Renee's eyes moved between the officers just once, trying to decide if she'd missed something or if they were just eccentric. Seemingly landing on the latter, she transitioned smoothly into handing them their room keys and a brochure with the room amenities as well as things to do nearby. Sam thanked her and made her way to the elevators, Jack trailing behind with the bags.

The ride to the 7th floor was short, but comfortable. Jack knew Sam was gloating and he didn't mind all that much – her eyes sparkled with humor every time she looked at him, so how could he possible stay upset when she looked at him like he was the only person in the world?

Pulling the electronic key out of the sleeve, Sam opened the door and stepped inside just enough for the colonel to squeeze past her with their shopping bags and her overnight bag as she fumbled for the light switch. Flicking them on, she turned to survey the room and felt herself come to a stop next to the colonel, both of them looking at the bed.

As in singular.

"Cozy." Jack quipped before glancing at the stiff way his second was suddenly holding her shoulders. "Listen, Carter, I'm just going to go down and get another -,"

"It's fine, sir." Sam waved in what she hoped was a super casual and I'm-totally-okay-with-this way. "It's late and the bed is plenty big for the both of us." The latter half of her statement was actually true. The bed was definitely a king and years offworld had taught her that neither she nor the colonel moved much in their sleep.

Jack, for his part, figured that if tomorrow did not go how he hoped, he'd be on a plane to Colorado before the night was over anyhow, so what was one night of sharing a bed as friends?

"—friends?" Sam's voice startled him from his thoughts. Had she learned how to read minds in the last five minutes?

"What?" His voice broke a little and he cleared his throat before trying again. "What?"

Sam shot him an odd, shuttered look. "I said, besides beds can be shared by friends."

"Ah. Yes. Friends. Sharing." Jack gave her a thumbs up before realizing just how weird that gesture was in this moment.

Sam gave him a look somewhere between 'okay' and 'nice, weirdo' before turning and grabbing her overnight bag from the floor. "Do you want to shower first, sir?"

Jack turned the question over in his mind. If Carter showered first, he would gain points for looking like a gentleman, but he would lose points when he considered what little control he may have over his mouth when he saw a fresh-from-the-shower Carter in pajamas climbing into their bed. As much as he'd like to blow his one secret - literally the one thing that he knew and Carter didn't - tonight and say to hell with the regs immediately…he wanted to do this right. And ambushing her right after a shower was probably not the right way to do it.

On the other hand, if he said yes to showering first, he may lose points by coming off as less than gentlemanly but he would gain points in that he could already be in bed and asleep by the time his major slipped in fresh from the shower.

Option B it was, then.

"Sure, if you don't mind." Sam shrugged, she didn't mind at all. She wasn't sure if her self control would hold if she had to watch while a damp-from-the shower and PJ-clad Jack O'Neill slipped under the covers next to her. No, this was definitely better. She had more control this way.

Lifting his shopping bag from the floor, she tossed him his pack of briefs and a t-shirt. "Thanks. I'll be quick." He shot her an awkward grin before disappearing into the bathroom.

While the shower was running and she was trying desperately not to think about what the colonel was doing in there – naked, wet, oh god this is torture – Sam busied herself by pulling her dress and the colonel's pants and sweater out of the bags and giving them a good shake to rid them of wrinkles. She took care to hang them up neatly, his sweater neatly folded over the hanger to avoid those little shoulder bumps, and his pants folded with the creases facing out to preserve them.

Her dress was easy, hanging innocently by those thin spaghetti straps next to her colonel's clothes. Glancing surreptitiously at the bathroom door to make sure the colonel was not about to pop out, Sam took a mental picture and filed it away for a darker time.

The effect he had on her really should be illegal. For goddsakes she wasn't a teenager anymore, she should be able to control her hormones and her thoughts. As if the universe truly was trying to mock her, Jack took that moment to emerge from the steamy bathroom; his shirt clinging to his damp muscles and with nothing but those short briefs covering his legs, Sam could truly appreciate what all those offworld hikes had done for his calves and thighs.

Gulping in what she hoped was a really cute, really inaudible fashion she dragged her eyes up to his face and was relieved to see that his attention had been on running a towel through his hair and not on where her eyes had just been. "Shower's all yours, Carter." He stepped away from the bathroom motioning that it was free for her. His hair stuck up in mad defiance of gravity and, for whatever reason, that made Sam's heart do a little dance in her chest. "It's really hot too."

"Yes, it is." Sam wasn't immediately sure that it had just been her who had spoken. That voice had sounded a lot deeper, and a lot rougher, than she'd intended.

Jack turned to look at her quickly reddening face, but before he could say anything, she waved awkwardly at him, grabbed her backpack, and disappeared into the bathroom.

TBC