Chapter 9: After (Happily Ever)

A/N: This is it! We made it to the end of this little foray into the forest of fluff. I hope this story brought a smile to your faces and some comfort to your little shipper hearts! My idea note for this story was "fic where nothing happens" and I'd say I lived up to that expectation pretty well.

Disclaimer: I poke fun at the actual fraternization regulations listed in the USAF policies in this chapter – no offense is intended. All in good fun for the story!

Enjoy!

"Nothing has to change." Jack brushed his thumbs over Sam's knuckles. "But, listen Sam, and I mean this – I really think that things should. Change, I mean."

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as his throat worked to form words that were clearly taking a toll on him. Sam wished she could help him, take some of the cost, but she had absolutely no idea what he talking about. The thought wasn't enough to make her laugh, but it did help her push back any more tears.

She knew this was it, this was the moment that would change the rest of her life, and all she could do was stare at the man in front of her…and wait.

….

"I'm not making much sense, am I?" A humorless smirk tugged at his mouth and he took a deep breath, squeezing their hands together. "The very nature of the jobs we do means that we take a risk every time we step through that gate. We risk life, limb, and planet every day. We choose that."

Sam nodded. She'd given that same speech to herself numerous times.

"We choose the job every day, no matter the cost." His eyes burned into hers, watching for any change in expression whether it be good or bad. "Sam, that cost has gotten too high for me."

"This still sounds like you're leaving." Sam half-winced, not understanding what she wasn't understanding.

He gave her an expression somewhere between a smile and grimace. "I swear, I was much smoother in my head."

Despite the sense of foreboding that was still very much present, Sam huffed a small laugh. "It's going well."

"It is not." Jack had the grace to look both affronted and amused, relieved to see something other than heartbreak on her face.

"Carter – Sam." He'd have to get used to that. The same way he should've gotten used to just ripping off the bandaid by now. "On Monday, there is going to be a memo sent out explaining that Air Force Instruction 36-2909 as it stands in relation to unprofessional relationships will no longer apply to those who operate under the umbrella of the Stargate Program." He paused, watching the information sink in and searching for any hint of which way the next few minutes of this conversation were going to go. "A presidential memo. From the president." He added helpfully when she remained silent.

Sam couldn't really hear much past her own internal screaming. It wasn't even her own voice screaming, it sort of just sounded like a thousand tea kettles going off at once and it was incredibly distracting. Instead of giving her anything useful to contribute for her side of this conversation, her brain was just reciting pieces of the regulations back at her; 'Relationships are unprofessional, whether pursued on or off-duty,' and 'abandonment of organizational goals for personal interests' and can't forget the classic 'fraternization, an aggravated form of unprofessional relationship.'

Sam had to admit those things all sounded very reasonable…for someone else.

Sam opened her mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a single peal of laughter. Pulling her hands abruptly from his, she covered her mouth and then her entire face. Where there had been apprehension and fear and sadness before now there was only the most acute sense of stage fright Sam had ever experienced in her life.

Because, despite all of this, Sam Carter was suddenly very sure that Jack O'Neill was trying to tell her that he wanted to be in an aggravated form of unprofessional relationship with her. It was quite probably the one thing she had most hoped to hear for years; she just wished her brain had supplied her with a better way to frame it.

One that wasn't so funny.

And now she was laughing so hard that she was crying and struggling to breathe which she was sure made a really pretty and elegant combination. "Oh, no…" She moaned around her laughter and then - because really what was stopping her now? – Sam leaned forward and pressed her forehead into that really inviting space between her colonel's neck and shoulder as she hiccupped through her laughter.

His hands hesitantly came up to grasp her upper arms, very confused as to what was going on. One second she was stoically processing what he felt was very profound information, then she was laughing, then crying, then saying scary words like "no," and now she was practically in his lap.

He wasn't exactly complaining about the last part, but still, you know? Priorities.

"Carter." His voice was gentle but insistent and Sam felt herself sober almost immediately. He had on his 'there's a good chance Carter has been body-swapped' voice and Sam didn't feel a visit to the infirmary was quite what she wanted in her very near future.

"Very smooth, sir." Sam nodded once, like she was punctuating her statement. Pulling away enough to carefully wipe her eyes (thank god for waterproof eyeliner) Sam finally looked up at him. His hands were warm on her arms, but his eyes were guarded for the first time during this whole conversation.

"This doesn't have to change anything." His eyes moved over her entire face, memorizing every flicker of emotion he saw. "I just wanted you to know before Monday."

"Why?"

Feeling for all the world like he was caught in a trap, Jack winced. "I wanted to be the one to tell you." He spoke slowly, sounding out each word carefully. "I wanted you to hear it from me because…" His eyes found hers again, his heart threatening to explode with the intensity of her stare. "Because I want you to know that this means something to me."

Sam worried her teeth against her lower lip and tried to weigh her next possible moves. First, she didn't see any way that they were making it to any part of this wedding so she would need to send Lizzie a fine fruit basket as an apology. Second, she had a lot of questions, several of which had very important answers. Third, she could say nothing and hope that the colonel – Jack – would take the lead. Fourth, and this one was very important, she could do something.

"Can I, I mean -," Sam took a deep, steadying breath her eyes darting from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. Leaning forward the tiniest bit and reaching a tentative hand up to his chest, Sam felt like the whole world had suddenly tilted on its axis. "Can we…?"

Jack, who had been watching her watch him closely, heard the unspoken question loud and clear. "Oh yeah." He murmured before he felt her hand close into a fist on his sweater and pull him towards her even as he tightened his grip on her arms to pull her towards him.

It was spectacular, really. Lips and tongues and hands and skin…for a long time, neither Jack nor Sam could form a full coherent thought. When they finally came up for air, Sam was surprised to find that despite having a zipper that refused to zip, her dress was still very much on, if not a little disheveled.

The colonel however, was a different story. Sam had been much less polite in her exploration – his sweater was thrown over the back of the desk chair and his undershirt was somewhere on the floor next to the bed. His slacks no longer had crisp pleats and both the zipper and button were undone.

Peeking unapologetically at him from under her messy bangs, she saw what she could only describe as shell-shocked joy on his face, his eyes alive and dark and smiling and a thousand other things Sam had only ever seen in her wildest daydreams and never all at the same time. Moving slowly, knowing every second was torture for him, Sam straddled his waist and bent over, placing a trail of very light kisses from the hollow of his neck up towards his ear. Grinning, she felt exactly what that was doing to him.

"Carter." He groaned, his hands finding her hips underneath her dress. "Sam."

She smirked against his skin, but continued her Very Important Work as his fingers dug into her skin and pulled her, impossibly, closer to him. "Sam." He tried again, struggling to catch his breath as his heart did all sorts of happy dances and...other...parts of him did too. Finally, when he absolutely could not stand it for one more second, he thrust his hips upward - taking pride in the sound that escaped from the back of her throat as he did so – and rolled her onto her back, wrists pinned above her head by his hands.

He had never seen that look on her face before; he couldn't even begin to categorize all the little nuances of it. All he knew was that it was now his life's mission to see that expression on her face as often as possible. "Sam." He took a moment to slow his breathing, trying in vain to regain his faculties.

"Jack." It was practically a purr, but the bubble of trepidation hidden in it gave him pause and kept him grounded.

"Mixed signals?" He guessed, dropping his forehead to her shoulder, still trying to reign in his self control.

"A little." He was grateful that she, too, sounded breathless.

"I just didn't expect…" He pressed a kiss to her neck when words failed him and her answering shiver made Jack desperately wish he'd been able to do this every time she'd left him without words before.

Sam blew out a quick breath, the laugh in it more felt than heard. "I know. I really thought I'd want more answers – more talking. But, that was -,"

"Wow, I know." He agreed, lifting his head enough to catch her staring at him.

"Yeah." Looking up, she felt caught between wanting to keep going and wanting to throw on the brakes, to talk about just what exactly they thought they were doing here. For the first time, when she looked at the man above her, she had expectations.

She just wasn't sure if they aligned with his. But she really hoped they did.

Shifting her hips just the slightest, she smirked when his whole expression changed and his fingers tightened on her wrists, though he was still being careful not to put too much weight on her. "What do you want to do, Jack?"

Teeth clamped tight against the first answer that came to mind ('you') he eventually shook his head in both disappointment and in answer. Leaning to the side, he rolled off of Sam and lay flat on his back on the bed listening to his racing heart finally start to calm down. Sam hadn't moved, but he felt her eyes on him as he stared up at the ceiling.

"That's probably for the best." Her voice was heavy with disappointment but also with agreement. As much as she wanted to continue that Very Important Work she'd really been enjoying, she knew that five years of avoiding this very thing had probably led to some complicated feelings in general. She knew that there was always the potential that she and Jack wanted two very different things from this and jumping straight into bed with the man after half a decade of repression was probably the very worst idea possible.

Oh man, but that had been so –

"Wow." Jack repeated, unwittingly finishing her private train of thought.

Sam grinned to herself and some part of her intuited that, like always, they were probably on the same wavelength about where all of this was going to lead. She was not a big advocate of true love or soulmates and she categorically did not believe in fate or a predetermined destiny, but she knew that this feeling was, without a doubt, the real deal. Like, white dress and picket fence real deal.

Maybe.

Like she'd had to remind herself already, probably better to actually talk to the man before deciding that her expectations were reciprocated. They both rolled to face each other at the same time and Sam allowed herself a private happy dance; they really were on the same wavelength.

"Do you want to go home?" Jack narrowed his eyes just slightly when he saw the goofy grin threaten to split her face in two.

"I was just about to ask you that."

He couldn't help it. Call it testing the waters, but Jack felt in the moment that he really didn't have a choice. Thumb brushing against Sam's cheek and fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck, he pulled her lips to his in a very slow, very tender kiss. It was awhile before they surfaced again, though both officers were pleased to say that they had each maintained a tenuous sense of control over their very strong desire to go so much further.

Jack glanced at his watch, 12:30. "You know, if we leave now, we'll be home in time to order an early dinner from that pizza place we like."

Sam's heart could've burst from giddiness and she nodded a little harder than was absolutely necessary as they settled into an amicable quiet as they packed up their few belongings.

He was using words like "we" and "home" like it was the most natural thing in the world and talking about a pizza place like it had always been theirs. Damn, her expectations just kept getting higher and higher. Sam didn't even need to clarify that when they said "home" they both meant his house and for some dumb reason, that also made her insides feel all fluttery.

Not that there was anything wrong with her house. It was fine.

But it wasn't a home. Jack had opened his home to his whole team from the start – their team nights were always staged in his living room or outside around his firepit. On a much less sentimental note, he was also the only member of SG-1 who regularly left the mountain to go home, so it definitely felt more lived in than either Sam's house or Daniel's apartment. Teal'c's on base quarters were cozy, but he didn't actively invite SG-1 to invade his personal space all that often, so his didn't count either.

"Ready?" He asked, finally, glancing around the room to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything.

"Very." Taking his outstretched hand, Sam let herself grin brightly up at him one last time before they left the room. She'd never minded DC much before, but the city seemed so much more alive now – full of so much potential. Still, she yearned for the quiet comfort of his house and their favorite pizza place. There would be plenty of time for talking and not talking before Monday and they'd be damned if they wasted even a second of that.

That said… "I wonder if I should return that dress though, considering the zipper is a bust."

"Oh, definitely not." Jack squeezed her hand and winked as the door to their hotel room closed behind them.

END

A/N: It has been wonderful to see so many familiar names pop up in reviews and PMs – I missed you all like crazy! I have several more stories planned for the next little bit so I hope you stick around!