Chapter 7: Before

A/N: Enjoy!

A few minutes later found colonel and major settled back onto the bed to form their plan of attack for the day. Jack was propped up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him with the top sheet loosely covering him from the waist down – he realized belatedly that he probably should've grabbed a pair of sweats last night, but there was nothing to do about it now. 'And after tonight, you may not need anything at all.'

Shaking his head minutely, Jack refocused on the woman in front of him sitting cross-legged near his knees. "Okay, so the bride, Lizzie, and I have known each other since the academy-,"

"Ah, yes, good times." Jack interrupted. "Kind of hard to imagine you having any time for friends what with all your top marks and awards."

Sam shot him a half-hearted glare and he grinned, holding up a hand in surrender. "Friends is probably an overstatement, but there was a handful of us who had study group together all four years. We didn't really hang out much outside of classes, but we got to know each other well enough, I suppose."

"Well enough to be invited to a wedding oh, 15 years later?" He grinned when she shot him a look.

"Lizzie was assigned to the Stargate program with me but as a liaison to Pentagon later on. When General Vidrine visited us for the X-301 test flight, Lizzie came with and we caught up a bit."

"Glad to see that my impending doom left you some time for a good chat."

Sam grinned and nudged Jack's leg with her socked foot. "Before your impending doom, sir."

"Ah." He nudged her back, enjoying the banter. Things had been getting steadily more familiar between them over the last year or so – he'd been concerned that the za'tarc incident and the memory stamp fiasco that almost immediately followed would make things too awkward between them to be able to joke around anymore, but his concerns had been mostly for naught.

If anything, they'd gotten even closer since then – they spent more one on one time together while in the mountain, had more in-jokes than he could even remember, and generally got on like fire and gasoline. That memory stamp though…Jack's throat tightened when he thought about just how close they had been to crossing a very distinct line from which he knew they would never be able to come back from. Another night or two and he was absolutely certain that they could never have gone back to colonel and major at work.

He almost regretted that they hadn't. He would have had an excuse then.

"…marrying another guy from our same study group." Jack's ears perked up as he realized that Sam had been speaking to him this whole time and he had absolutely no idea what she'd been saying.

Taking a quick glance at her expression – raised eyebrows and wide eyes – Jack guessed at an appropriate response. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Kind of messed up, but what're ya gonna do." Sam pulled absently at a thread in the comforter and missed the look of complete confusion that flashed across his face. It was just as well, in the next second Jack decided he hadn't missed anything too important and accepted this was just another one of those times where he would never know what Carter had said while he daydreamed about her. Ah, well.

"What time is this shindig supposed to start?"

"Noon for the ceremony, then there's a sizable break. Reception starts around 6pm." Misreading Jack's contemplative look for annoyance, Sam continued. "Both venues are close to here, so we can always come back to the room and hang out for a bit before heading back."

Jack nodded, but he was listening only peripherally. What Sam had thought was annoyance was actually Jack making the monumental decision that he would tell her about the regs – or lack thereof – between ceremony and reception. Heart slamming in his chest, he looked back up at his major, anxiety suddenly constricting his throat.

Once again misreading his expression without context, she took his panic for perturbance at her suggestion of them doing something as couple-y as returning to their shared room to hang out before dinner. "Or we don't have to come back here." Sam said hurriedly.

"No, no, here is good." Jack nodded, throat very dry. Here was good. They could be alone here. He could say whatever he ended up coming up with here. No strangers staring, less pressure, less rush…here was good.

Sam smiled at him, bringing one knee up and resting her chin on it. Wrapping her sweatshirt covered hands around her leg, she looked up at him from under bangs still messy from sleep. Again, his heart thudded that funny rhythm. "Sir?"

Throat much too dry to even think about replying, he raised his eyebrows instead in what he hoped was a mildly curious gesture.

"I'm hungry." Her brilliant smile reached all the way to her eyes. "Do you want to order room service?" When was the last time she had the luxury of room service? Sam couldn't even begin to remember.

Trying and failing not to notice what that smile did to his insides, Jack nodded and managed to croak, "Yeahsureyabetcha."

…

"It's stuck." Sam's voice was flat behind the bathroom door hanging slightly ajar.

"I'm sorry? What's stuck?" Jack was pulling the sweater over his head and simultaneously wishing that he'd thought to snag a comb.

"The stupid dress you made me buy. Sir."

Jack grinned at the way she tacked on the honorific – deliberately full of snippiness. "That I made you buy?"

"Yes, sir." Sam yanked the door the rest of the way open, her eyes narrowed.

For what felt like the tenth time that morning, Jack felt his throat constrict too much to speak. He looked at her hair (he'd never seen it that shiny) to her eyes (they looked too blue to even be real under that dark eyeliner) to her lips (also had never seen them that shiny) to her shoulders (bare) to her -,

Before he could go any further with his very inappropriate thoughts – and wandering eyes – Sam cleared her throat pointedly. "Wow, Carter."

Sam tried to hold onto her frown, but knew she was failing spectacularly. "Sir."

"I – wow." Jack held his hands out to his sides, palms out in what was quite simply a gesture of just how speechless she had made him.

As tendrils of heat traced themselves up Sam's neck and into her cheeks, she couldn't help the small smile that had worked its way across her lips. "Thank you. Back at you." She added, before she could help herself. Both officers took an indulgent moment to just stare at each other, identical goofy grins on their faces.

Finally, Jack knew he had to break the silence or they'd never actually make it to the wedding. As tempting as that train of thought was…

"What's stuck, Carter?"

"My dress." Tearing her eyes from her commanding officer, Sam gestured vaguely at her waist.

"Looks fine to me." Jack could kit up without blinking, but he wasn't too much of an expert in the fastening of dresses.

"No, the back zipper isn't zipping." A beat of annoyance in her tone, Sam tugged at the back of her dress.

"You mean it's supposed to be tighter?" Jack cleared his throat as a definite squawk threatened to burst from his mouth. He was barely hanging onto his sanity as it was and now she was trying to tell him that top was supposed to be tighter?

Looking at him oddly, Sam nodded, biting her lower lip absently.

Oh, she was definitely trying to kill him. Jack blew out a breath. "Okay, turn around. Let me see what I can do."

Flashing a quicksilver smile, Sam turned, grateful that he could not see her quickly reddening cheeks. "Thank you, sir."

Glancing from her bare shoulder to her bare back, Jack had the sudden and vivid memory of waking her up in Hathor's creepy fake-SGC. They had reached for each other without thinking and it had taken a good long look for Jack to remember that he was not actually supposed to look at his then-captain's bare back.

Present-Jack took a moment to gloat to Past-Jack.

Reaching forward carefully, Jack tried very hard not to notice the way Sam shivered when his fingers brushed the skin on her lower back as he reached for her zipper. He also tried very hard not to notice the way her breathing had just quickened when his other hand took hold of the dress below where the zipper was stuck.

Sam squeezed her eyes closed as the involuntary shiver ran through her. 'Damn.' She had been trying to play it so cool, so calm. As the dress pulled taut against her waist, she could feel the colonel's other hand pressed against her tailbone. 'Oh my god, oh-,' Her whole body was aching and a rush of heat very low in her belly had her breath quickening before she could stop it. She was going to go absolutely nuts, how in the world had she allowed him to have this much of an effect on her? He was just zipping up her dress, for crying out loud!

"Carter." Her name came out as more of a groan and he felt his body reacting without his permission as yet another shiver ran up her spine when he spoke.

One more word and she was going to lose any shred of self-control she still had. "I'll get it." She spoke too loudly and stepped forward, extricating herself from his gentle grasp. He didn't let go immediately, holding her fast just long enough for her to know he was struggling too. Then she took another step and his fingers disappeared from her skin – their absence felt acutely as her flushed skin met cool air.

"Carter -," Sam couldn't identify the strange note in his voice and she didn't give him a chance to continue. Shutting the bathroom door behind her, Sam leaned against the smooth metal, breathing heavy and hard. What had she been about to do? What had he been…a small noise escaped the back of her throat and Sam screwed up her face in a desperate attempt to stop her thoughts dead in their tracks.

She felt equal parts like she wanted to laugh, cry, or throw up. This was too surreal. She should have known better – had known better. There was a very specific reason that she had never gone fishing with Jack and it had absolutely nothing to do with fish.

But this was almost worse.

Because this was her fault. She had no one to blame but herself.

TBC