CHAPTER EIGHT: REVEILLE
The Brotherhood of Steel certainly had the bang for their buck, Jack had to give him that. So far they hadn't disappointed. Still, he couldn't shake the disquiet that he'd felt settle over him in the shadow of that blimp and listening to the doctrine they'd spewed non-stop since he'd got here. Maybe he was just a paranoid old soldier but he'd been bitten by people offering him shiny new technology and a hand of friendship before, if he'd just enlist in their war. It hadn't turned out so well the last time and he was getting the same damn vibe off this bunch.
'Different was bad. Our hands are the right hands. Might is right.' It was like Fascism 101.
The last time he'd accidentally found himself on the wrong side of a group like this Daniel had been the one to pull his head out of his ass and make him ask questions. Danny-boy wasn't here now which meant he had to do it himself, before he found himself in a SS stamped Power Armour.
Not that he had a whole lot of time for sleuthing. Most of what he did was observation; he had ears and eyes and he used them when they weren't watching his ass in basic training and grunt work. It wasn't nearly as bad as Spec Ops had drilled him through but it was still bad enough, even with his rejuvenated body. It had quickly become apparent that Sam and he were way beyond basic training; they had systematically wiped the floor with pretty much everyone in unarmed combat. It was a skill which really was lacking out here, something he'd already noticed and tried to rectify with the Minutemen. Whilst they had the technique they lacked a certain specialised know-how to really use it. Most frankly lacked the skill for more than just trading jabs. Disarming someone with a few simple manoeuvres and putting a man twice your size on his ass, minus a fully working limb … now that took practice and a lot of muscle memory. After Sam had very effectively done just that to their instructor and he'd taken apart just about everyone else, they'd been fast tracked into the 'real' training. That meant Vertibirds and Power Armour.
Sam wanted the damn suits but he, oh he wanted that pilot seat. It was like Christmas being in a cockpit again, even if it set all those alarm bells off from the last time he'd got in someone else's fighter. It also brought back memories of better days, before he'd foolishly accepted a redeployment to AFSOC and then stuck his toe into Black Ops; selling his soul for America's freedoms, or at least that was the tagline which, once upon a time, he'd whole heartedly supported. This was a simpler, pared-down version of the military: point and shoot, do your job, get out alive. Politics didn't seem to play much of a role.
The Vertibirds were everything he'd imagined and worse. It reminded him of his test piloting; it was like riding a damn bull on top of a washing machine through a blizzard, blindfolded. At least that's what he'd exclaimed as he all but crashed his first run out. He looked at the Instructor beside him, a young man he'd suspected of barely being out of basic training and grinned wildly.
"I've got to try that again." The Instructor had looked a little wide-eyed at that but Jack hadn't really given him much option. The console was laughably simple compared to what he was used to. Jack had engaged the rotating engines and took off before he'd barely voiced a protest. Take-off was easy; keeping them up and not crashing, that was harder. Moving them around, well now that required finesse but he liked to think he managed it with style.
Trying to use these things in anything other than troop deployment was clearly where they were going wrong. Sam of course had some ideas about that. Ideas that Kellis had started listening to when one of her modifications, which had only taken her an afternoon to complete, had managed to stabilise the aft thrust by eighty percent. The good Captain had looked her over, straightened his back, arms behind him and nodded.
"Alright Knight Carter. Vertibird 4 over there is flagged for scrap. See what you can do to get it back into better than working order. Let's see if you can materialise these improved combat modifications and I'll let you and Knight O'Neill here run an operation in it under combat conditions." he'd ordered, like it was his damn idea.
"Yes!" Jack pumped his fist then, at Kellis's look he immediately straightened, snapping off a salute which had frankly confused the man and sauntered off to talk tactics with Sam. They had headed towards the Vertibird that was currently grounded in the old Boston Airport service bay which the Brotherhood were using as their base camp. Sam stroked around the nose of the machine, which didn't look too bad on the outside, as he watched her.
"So, thoughts?" he asked certain she'd have several. She glanced back at him, her eyes alight, lips curving into a smile he recognised as the enjoyment of a challenge. Sam didn't have any of the reservations he did about their new 'friends'; she was in her element and shining like she did. He didn't want to rain on her parade, not for a minute, especially not now she was smiling again but life sucked like that. He was certain that storm was coming.
"I'm thinking this thing needs a serious rework. And shields." she replied. "How many of these things did you say they've lost already?"
"Two." One of the Scribes who was working as a mechanic ambled up to them answering the question for him. He stood giving them a once over as if wondering what the hell they were thinking of doing. "Felled by rocket launchers." he added.
"Counter measures would be a start then." Jack shrugged, not especially wanting her to make the damn things much more lethal than they were; the Brotherhood had enough advantages out here as it was. Sam nodded, her expression pursed.
"Radar tracking." Sam hummed thoughtfully, sticking her head inside.
"What's radar?" The Scribe queried and Jack gave him a disbelieving look; seemed he'd been right about their lack of that nifty little invention.
"Really?" Jack replied sarcastically and got a blank look back. "That would be helpful yeah." he deadpanned, adding it to Sam's list and she rolled her eyes as she sat inside the cockpit; clearly she'd already come to that conclusion some time ago.
"Don't worry Jack. I'll have her purring for you soon enough." Sam grinned back at him and Jack shrugged at the Scribe who was looking between them clearly bemused.
"You two really used to be soldiers back in the day?" the young Scribe asked, disbelievingly.
"Yep." Jack popped the 'p'. The guy nodded, his look going contemplative.
"So you've fought in aerial battles?" he continued, looking somewhat more excited. Jack sighed and looked at the young man. He reminded him a bit of Daniel, all eager energy and fast words, passionate. Or maybe he was projecting. It was going on over a year now since he'd seen Space Monkey. Maybe he just wanted this kid to be him; he had the glasses anyway.
"All sorts of aerial battles." Jack replied. "But best not go into that. Some of it wasn't exactly on the books if you know what I mean." He nudged the guy who clearly hadn't got a clue. "Sam, remind me, what was your call sign?" he called back and smirked at her clearly irritated look. She shook her head, her lips pursed; she wasn't going to reveal it. Not that he needed her to. He knew full well what it was. He'd read every nook and cranny of her file back when she'd proven herself to be more than a simple egghead after their first few trips out. And then again, when he tried to convince himself it wasn't favouritism to want to protect and progress the career of the frankly incredible woman that you were hopelessly pining over. Her file had always been good at settling that argument for him. She'd shone out of the page with no help from him at all, despite that rather unfortunate call sign.
"Ah that's right. 'Elroy'. Lt. Samantha 'Elroy' Carter." he exclaimed. Sam dropped her head, shaking it and then looked up at him with a warning finger.
The Scribe looked nonplussed. "Elroy … as in Jetson." Jack expanded but the Scribe was still levelling a blank look at him. He supposed it had been a long shot. Jack rolled his eyes; pop culture was wasted out here.
"It was a cartoon back in the day. Elroy was the little blonde science nerd with the genius IQ who wanted to be an astronaut. The flyboys had Carter right on the money." he laughed and Sam shot him a look; clearly he was right in that she'd not suspected he'd go digging for her well-hidden call sign. It had taken Cam Mitchell of all people, her old college flying buddy, to reveal it from his convalescing bed as he'd recovered from his injuries following that spectacular bit of flying in Antarctica that had saved their asses. Shortly after their first meeting, Jack had discovered Sam's pilot experience had included the F-16s during the Gulf. He'd also been surprised at the number of hours she'd logged in the AWACS and tactical recon's. Although, given as this was Sam they were talking about, he now knew better than to be surprised by anything she did. If he was honest, he'd always kind of liked it for a call sign. Sam clearly didn't.
Cam had also warned him (a few years too late) in no uncertain terms to never eat anything she baked … ever. Even his lead-lined stomach couldn't take what that woman could screw up with flour and yeast. Then he'd obviously taken a detour into just what a Colonel wanted with a theoretical astrophysicist on his team and if it had something to do with the alien spaceships he'd just shot out the sky. At which point Jack had wished him well and done an about face. Not that it mattered; Cam would find out one day soon. He was ear marked for command at the SGC given as his flying days were done with his legs busted like that. Jack half suspected that, with his little glowing recommendation on Cam's resume, Mitchell might have been called up to SG1 in his and Sam's absence.
"Who told you that?" she glared at him, hanging her head out the ship. He tapped his nose in a 'never you mind gesture', never one to throw another soldier under the bus. Even if he was more than a little bothered by the fact that he was certain Sam might have gotten to know 'Cam's Shaft' up close and personal so to speak.
"It's cute." he promised deflecting with a bit of self-depreciation. "Better than mine." he groused. That was still a sore point, nearly thirty years later. Sam's look was expectant. Oh please he wasn't fooled, he knew she totally knew it. He might have had her file but she'd definitely got a hold of his, the un-redacted one. Sam might play within the rules but she was also prone to breaking ones she felt didn't apply to her. Like not knowing just how deep-dark her new CO was. Having met her ex-fiancée Jonas, he thought he could relate; checking that he was nothing like that Black Ops S.O.B. was probably just due diligence before she put her life and trust in his hands.
"My new call sign is Homer." he told the Scribe. "You should write that down. It's also O'Neill with two L's. Go scribe it somewhere or something." Jack indicated for him to get to it and, much to his amusement, the young man hastily picked up his pad and did just that.
"Homer?" Sam quirked an eyebrow swinging out of the seat to hop down next to him. "I think I preferred 'Gopher'." she chuckled and he cocked an eyebrow at her indicating thin ice. It was bad enough that they had to pick the name of one of his least favourite Minnesota hockey teams but they'd compounded it by making his other choice 'Minnie'. Military brats were so named for that damn reason. "I'll admit it did make mine a little easier to take." She leant in, her eyes glancing around, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her fingers tracing the stubble on his jaw in an all too sensual way that hit him hard. Her look promised him 'later' and he watched her walk away, hips swaying more than was strictly necessary. He had to admit the combat leathers out here did a hell of a lot more for her than the SGC green and blues. Damn.
They'd been finding it easier to connect. Both of them were taking it slowly but Sam was finding her way back to being comfortable with his touch. One or either of them would initiate with a head nod or a touch that lingered a little too long and they'd slink off to the lower levels to 're-acquaint' themselves as he'd so romantically termed it the once. Only for her to smack him upside his head, right before she'd kissed him soundly. Sam being Sam seemed to be under the mistaken impression that she needed all to be right with their sex life. He'd tried to tell her otherwise in a dozen different ways; hoping to God she didn't think him shallow enough that it was all he cared about. Hell, he'd gone years, almost a decade, without being able to touch her like he wanted. He'd go a lot longer if he had to, if it was what she needed.
But Sam was doing her usual trick of attacking the problem head on. He didn't want to undermine her recovery, however she found her way to it, but he wasn't fool enough to think that everything was alright with her. His beautiful wife and former 2IC was many things, simple was not one of them. As he'd been discovering in this last year, Sam held multitudes and sadly not all of them got along. There were still nightmares and traumas; some of them buried deep, others not far enough. They were alike in that way. He also never understood half of what she said but he liked the other half just fine.
He was doing what he could, trying to be the kind of man she deserved, the man he wanted to be. Which was how they came to celebrate their one-year anniversary of that night in Sanctuary, when she'd foolishly decided to give him a chance. A year later, they were on board a floating battleship, surrounded by soldiers, in a world not their own, fighting to survive … so pretty much same old, same old. Except he had her. Her smile when she looked at him across the workbench, her eyes flashing and alighting was finally wholly for him. The shadow that had dimmed it so recently had started to recede with the fresh challenges life here presented. He'd waited nearly a decade to see that look and it didn't disappoint.
"Hey honey. How was your day?" he asked with utmost sincerity; a call back to that wonderful day a few weeks ago when she'd breached that barrier between them. He leant his hip against her workbench, crossing his arms and giving her his best charm smile and getting the full megawatt one back from her. He had to admit he loved getting to say that. "'Cause mine just got a whole lot better." Her lips quirked at the cheese in that statement but he felt it needed a lot of cheese.
"Really, because I heard through the grapevine that you were holding court with the pilots today. Something about taking them under your wing given as you've left them all in the dirt. Or are you seriously going to tell me you haven't enjoyed that?" she smirked and he shrugged. Guilty as charged. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. Granted getting to be part of a team like that again was rewarding but he was slightly uneasy after some of the chatter he'd caught wind of today.
"Oh, you know me, can't keep me out of a cockpit … or whatever." he winced, realising how that sounded. He cleared his throat, "Besides someone's got to help them. They're all troop drop offs and evasive manoeuvres which tend to end in …" he mimicked crashing and burning. She snorted.
"Oh that really inspires confidence." Sam rolled her eyes.
"Well, I was talking to Kellis. That miserable old coot has certainly warmed up somewhat now that he's realised what my background might offer them, along with your crazy mad pimp-my-ride skills." he sighed, "He's happy to accept me under his command as a Knight Lancer … asked me to run a few scenarios. If I pass muster I reckon I can get him to let me command a training unit with those jet pack things they've got for the Power Armour. We're thinking of trying to combine it with their flight training." he added. He had to admit he had gotten a kick out of that. Plus he'd just gotten to drop his little promotion in, oh so casually. Sam's eyes alighted; he didn't think he missed the flash of pride there and he felt his chest puff out a little. Oh man, she'd have done wonders for his test scores back in the Academy if he'd had her to impress back then.
"I thought you weren't interested in becoming a 'Lancer'. 'He who fights boils.' Wasn't that what you called them?" she teased, biting her lip at his look; he stuck his tongue in his cheek and tried not to simply take that lip as his own.
"Still not crazy about the name but I get to keep the Knight. So it's cool." he shrugged, going for nonchalant.
Sam leant forward and slid her hands to his cheek, drawing him down to her and planting a sweet one on him. "I think you training these Yahoos how to actually fly my baby when she's airborne is a great idea." she admitted. "I'd like her to last a little longer than her maiden voyage." He could feel his breath against her lips and it took every bit of restraint he had in him not to tug her the final few millimetres. "You know I've always found Senior Officers incredibly attractive, Knight Lancer." she confessed in the voice he only ever got to hear when they were alone.
His lips curved and his pupils dilated as he leant in, his lips brushing to her ear. "You bad girl. I could have you up on charges for misconduct."
Sam chuckled. "I won't tell if you don't … Sir." Oh the use of that moniker was evil if she didn't intend to follow through. She knew he had little control of himself when she whipped that little word out, especially when her mouth was hovering over his.
Jack grinned, catching her hand that was steadily caressing his cheek and pressing a kiss there. His eyes dropped to the workbench between them, "You know I recall having a lot of fun on a workbench a lot like this one." he suggested and she quirked an eyebrow; he was certain his eyes were twinkling because damn that was a fine memory from their days back in the Castle.
"No." she bit out flatly and stepped back, taking her hand back and gathering a few things up hastily to shove them away, as if not trusting him. "And this is not my lab bench. I can guarantee that Ingram will shove you in the garbage disposal shoot if you defile her workspace."
Jack pressed his lips together, giving her a considered look. "See now you've made it a turn-on and a challenge." He smirked and she rolled her eyes at him but he saw the smile she was unable to suppress entirely. If they got back he was never going to look at her lab the same way again or get through a damn briefing with her nerd-speak and technobabble without needing a moment before he got up. Daniel would have a field day with him. He winced. Daniel had started creeping into his thoughts lately. Damn Space Monkey. Maybe it was because it was starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, they were really doing the whole 'try for home' thing. Next thing he knew he was going to start recognising how damn often Danse said the immortal phrase 'Indeed'. Matched with that stoic brooding hulk of a frame, he might just be forgiven for seeing T in him. There was something incredibly comforting in the idea of having someone to watch both their backs again. What he'd have given for the big stoic Jaffa out here. He'd never have been forced to let Carter do what she did. Hell, he probably never would have gotten injured like that on T's watch but then he'd never wish this place on anyone, let alone his team … ex-Team. He blew out a breath, this is why he didn't like thinking about it, it all just felt so past tense.
"Is there a reason you've come to fraternise Knight Lancer O'Neill?" Sam snapped a little too sharply given the teasing line of their last conversation which drew his attention back to her. "Or did you want to volunteer your steady hands again for my 'special Project'?" Sam queried and he frowned wondering what euphemism she was going for, before noting her eyes tracking someone behind him. Oh … right. Public place. Damn, he missed not being the boss. No one had questioned him when he'd found new and inventive ways to make out with his wife in the Castle. The sound of feet echoed, moving away from him and he blew out an exasperated breath. Always the damn military coming between them. The irony wasn't lost on him. You'd think given the nuclear apocalypse people would have bigger problems than needing to police who he was schtupping, and yet…
He swallowed his growing annoyance and tried to bring the conversation back on track because he did actually have a damn good reason to bother his own wife. "Well, it just so happens I have something else in mind since today is a very special day." He leant in teasing, keeping his voice low and seductive and mostly going far too gravelly that it resulted in a cough. Sam blinked at him, completely oblivious to the source of his genuine joy.
"It is?" she asked looking a little startled that she might have forgotten some training or assignment. Jack got the very distinct impression of what she'd have been like as a cadet and it bought a smirk to his lips. Oh it was a very good job he'd not met her back then; she'd have driven him to distraction.
"Really, and they say I'm not the romantic one." he teased and she frowned. "It's one year to the day you agreed to take a shot at us, on a rooftop in Sanctuary." he told her, not in the least bit concerned that she hadn't realised that. He got the feeling that Sam wasn't the sort to keep track of that type of thing even if they had a regular schedule. Or calendars. But her slightly mortified look that she hadn't realised made him chuckle. "Happy Anniversary Samantha." He leant in and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her still open mouth, "Now come with me. We're both off duty and I want to make the most of it." He wiggled his eyebrows and held out his hand, "Plus I have a surprise." he promised.
Sam was looking up at him with a sense of bewilderment. Either she couldn't believe it or was still upset she'd forgotten. "A year … really?" She shook her head, "Wait a minute. Doesn't the whole marriage thing mean we celebrate that anniversary. Not the day we started dating?" She reached for his hand anyway and let him bring her next to him, a smile curving her lips. Clearly she was as pleased by this milestone as he was.
"You're my wife. I'm going to pretty much celebrate the fact that I get to kiss you using every damn excuse I have." he shrugged helplessly.
Sam's eyes sparkled and crinkled a little at the edges as she groaned at his sap but the grin remained. "Okay, that might be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me." she admitted with a chuckle that he very much appreciated.
"Really?" He slipped his fingers through hers and tugged her along with him. "I'm going to have to up my game if that's the standard we're working to."
"Where are we going?" she asked as they made their way through the bowels of the ship, her hand in his and their hips bumping as they moved; he kept her close as he glanced back and winked at her. They reached a steep set of ladders and he tugged her up with minimal effort as she was just plain curious now. The metal exit sign loomed and he saw her take note of the sign printed neatly on the airlock: 'Forecastle'. The seal hissed as he opened it. There was a time when she might have questioned or doubted him but now she just accepted it as he broke the pressure seal on an airborne aircraft, without protest.
The door opened and she gasped at the shock of cooler air as they stepped out onto the grating at the very front of the ship. He watched her, his eyes fixed on her face as her breath caught and she stared down at the view out over Boston laid out beneath and all around them.
"Oh my God!" she gasped, staring out at it; from up here the bare bones of Boston were so much more evident. The City was still there, in ruins in places yes, but recognisable. There were areas of scarring where the bombs clearly had left craters but with the sun beginning to set and the haze of the atmosphere giving it a reddish glow, Jack thought it was one of the most extraordinary views he'd ever seen. He guessed from Sam's expression that she felt the same. Up here you could even make out the Minutemen HQ. This place wasn't quite as homey as their Castle but it did come with one hell of a view.
"Hey." Jack squeezed her hand and bumped his hip against hers as he joined her. "I know it's not outer space or some fancy Asgard nebula named after you but it's something, right?" he questioned, a little proud he'd managed to create a 'moment', right before a damn raven landed next to them on a barrel, probably after his surprise stash. He hastily shooed it away before Sam turned back to look up at him. Her expressive eyes were dark and unfathomably happy as she stared up; he felt his chest ache at that look. He didn't deserve it, not even a fragment of her love, yet he had it and could see it clearly. She pressed a kiss to his lips that left him a little weak-kneed and he smiled as she slotted herself back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
"Yeah, it's pretty good flyboy." she admitted, "Be nicer a few degrees warmer though." she added.
"Ah. I have something for that." He grinned and slipped out from her embrace for a moment and ducked down to retrieve some liquid warmth from a blue metal lunch pail he'd stashed up here.
"For the lady." He lifted out a bottle of rum in a pristine white bottle. He had it on good authority from his Minutemen buddies that it had been aged to perfection. There was a bonus to being in the Vertibirds so often; it meant he came into range of their wireless when he did a Castle flyby. Sam reached for it and he tilted it out of her reach, leaning in so their noses almost touched as she got her fingers around the base and tightened her grip. She quirked an eyebrow starting a tug of war.
"Price has gone up, inflation and that." he teased with a smug grin, his eyes on her mouth feeling all sorts of stirrings as she grew a little breathless, her eyes darkening.
"And here I thought it was an anniversary gift." she countered.
"Room with a view and the excellent company was the gift. This is a little something extra." he continued, his lips hovering over hers in an excellent display of will power.
"Oh extortion … very attractive." She bit her lip coyly batting those big blue eyes up at him like it was going to sway him. It probably would but that was hardly the point. "So what's it going to cost me?"
His grin widened. "Not much, just another one of those patented Mrs O'Neill kisses." he requested, tapping the corner of his cheek with his finger, "Right here." He grinned, knowing it was the dimpled one that she'd once confessed, when they'd been wrapped around each other, used to be enough to distract her from whatever gadget she'd be playing with. He'd duly noted that.
"Smooth." she conceded and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth that he turned into a full-on kiss, holding her firmly against his warm chest. "You play dirty Mr O'Neill." she added lightly as he released the bottle to her insistent tug. Jack smirked snaking his arm around her and snagging his own bottle of still cold beer – it seemed they were keeping Buddy well stocked.
"The rum I get but enlighten me as to how a cold beer is going to keep you warm up here?" she snarked as he snapped the bottle lid off against the railing behind her back and watched as he took a swig, she did the same to her rum. The cool hoppy taste hit his taste buds and he grinned before he leant down and pressed his chilled tongue against her molten warm one and felt her gasp sharply into him.
"Something like that?" Jack grinned and she laughed, clutching the back of his head as he chased the warmth in her mouth again. Her hand moved to grasp one of his, angling her hips against his and rocking in suggestion as her thigh pressed up against his groin. He was startled by the bold move; so far any sexual advances had been made carefully and with almost a billboard sign that it was coming but as her hand dropped to his ass and curled around it tightly pushing him against her, this felt anything but subtle. His eyes widened and she grinned seductively at him before she took another swig of her rum and tugged his mouth back down to hers, grasping his hand with hers and dropping it firmly onto her ass. Jack closed his eyes lost in her kiss, letting his hand roam the offered swell of her pert little ass and enjoying the sensation far too much as he gripped his beer behind her waist. He realised he was waiting for the tell-tale hitch in her breathing or the stiffness in her movement; either one would indicate the mood and whether or not he should continue. Sam shuddered as her tongue fought with his, wrapping her free hand around his waist as she pressed her body firmly against his steadily growing hardness.
"I want you to make love to me on our anniversary." she murmured and he had to pull back, just to be sure he'd heard her. "Just like in Sanctuary … on a rooftop amongst the stars, remember. Seems fitting." she added. He reached up with his other hand, stroking the hair from her cheek to tuck it behind her ear; admiring how beautiful she was one more time, still stunned by it.
He glanced over at the hatch and leant back shoving a metal rod through the airlock wheel that he'd planted up here for just such a reason. Although he hadn't expected it would be to keep them from being interrupted like this, more to ensure they had a little alone time undisturbed. He didn't ask her if she was sure even though he was desperate too, keeping the words that were clamouring inside of his head to himself. She didn't need his doubt as well. He had to trust she knew her own limits in this at least. Up until now, apart from their brief interlude where he'd managed to get her off, she'd been the one to touch him. Even given him one of the best blow jobs of his damn life in their little secluded hideaway. He'd perfected whole new ways to make her come that didn't involve touching her between her legs with his hand or his cock; a learning experience in itself. But this would be the first time she'd ever felt ready enough to ask for it.
"You know you never have to ask me to do that?" he said softly, taking the bottle from her hand and stooping to place it beside his in the cooler. He turned them, leaning her back against the crates and pressed his lips to hers, letting her feel how very much he wanted to do what she'd asked. He supposed out here, cold as fuck, above it all and surrounded by metal and wood was about as different as you could get from that damn glass and tile shower she was still trying to escape. That he was still trying to escape as well.
His hands mapped her. He placed a relatively cool one against her warm skin making her hiss in half surprise and delight. He grinned around her lips and hoisted her up onto the large crate behind them and stepped between her legs, letting her hands tug him closer as she pressed equally cool hands to his stomach. His abdominals tensed and it sent a shudder through him but her touch could never be anything but welcome. He trapped a hand there, letting her press her fingers flat and warming them with his body heat. Sam's other hand worked the zip on her pants down and he stared at the frankly ridiculously hot sight of her sat, cheeks flushed from arousal and cold, her fly open and her lip between her teeth. Those big blue eyes almost black with a swirl of emotions. He focused on the one he knew she wanted: 'desire' and promised himself that was the one he'd draw out of her.
He reached up and cradled her face with one hand and let his other make a slow path across her warm skin, dipping beneath her shirt to push aside her bra and wrap his fingers around her breast. Tugging gently and squeezing until her chest was arching into him and she was making little sounds of breathless impatience against his lips before he started on the other. It was too damn cold to take it quite as slowly as he wanted; his breath starting to fog against hers as he traced his fingertips down her abdomen. Her stomach clenched and her legs tightened fractionally around him. A warning, even if it was most likely subconscious. He diverted his hand around to her back and worked her pants over her ass, giving himself enough room as he got them around her thighs. He kept up the kisses, trailing a path of them down her jaw and around her ear, down to her neck feeling her arching into him, her hips pushing back against him as he rounded her ass and pulled her close. He'd spent the last two weeks learning how sensitive Sam was. Her body full of spots that he could use to drive her wild whilst avoiding her no-go area; he explored them now. His lips found that spot between her collarbone and neck, biting faintly until she cried out and he gentled it with his tongue before moving on to the spots on the back of her neck. Sucking and nipping every ticklish sensitive inch of her long pale neck until she was writhing against him and panting hard, her hands going to his belt buckle and shirking his pants down to his thighs with little grace.
He pulled back, finding her eyes intent on him as he smiled softly and lifted to draw her legs to slot firmly around his hips. With one hand firmly on her ass and the other wrapped around her waist, keeping her close, he slid her down the warmth of his chest and lowered her over his painfully hard dick. He wanted to groan the moment he felt the heat of her meet his already straining erection. There was a look of concentrated joy on her face that could at any moment tip over into anxiety. His mouth found hers and he thrust their tongue's together as he brushed her warm centre. She was wet, perhaps not as much as he'd have liked, but then it was cold and she was still nervous. She gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he began to thrust in a controlled way between her legs, dragging himself against but not entering her yet. "Oh God." she mouthed against his lips and dropped her head to his neck, pressing her forehead there as he slid determinedly over her heated flesh, rocking his hips to make the head of himself press firmly against the tight little nub he knew would need some attention.
Taking her full weight as he strained against his own reactions; he realised that this wasn't something that he'd have been able to do before that damn serum, at least not for long; his damn knees would have given out. "That's it Sam baby." he hummed into her temple as she clutched at his shirt. Her fingernails bit into his skin painfully but he didn't say a word, just kept up his slow torment for them both, willing himself to have a little self-control. Her body was shuddering and her breath was coming in harder pants. He squeezed her ass rhythmically, lamenting a lack of bed which might have made this somewhat easier but it was working; he could feel the heat and slick between her legs growing with his every dragged thrust against her that simultaneously brought them closer and kept them apart. He probably should have recalled that Samantha Carter never had let anyone tell her what was best for herself … least of all him.
"Jack!" she exclaimed and shifted her hips suddenly and quite deliberately. He couldn't have stopped it even if he'd tried as she angled to catch his next thrust and he slid into her welcoming heat with such startling suddenness that he almost came as he gasped, his grip on her tightening with the shock of being suddenly so deep in her.
"Jesus Sam!" he cried out, terrified he'd hurt her or damaged this moment. Holding her hips he tried to pull out only for her to lock her legs more firmly around his hips and take his face in her hands, their noses brushing.
"Don't you dare pull out!" she growled at him and he nodded, at a loss for words and hard as a rock at the command in her tone. Sam grinned satisfied he wasn't going anywhere and leant in to kiss him hard, lowering herself down onto him, again and again with utter determination. It took him several heart stuttering seconds to realise that she'd completely intended this. Several more to get his head (both of them) around the fact that he was actually inside of her again and that she was clearly enjoying it as she chased his mouth, controlling the pace as she rode him. He groaned against her as she clenched around him and he tried to get his head out of the damn clouds and into the moment as he focused on thrusting in time with her movements, wanting it to be so damn good for her. He wouldn't, couldn't offer his hand like he usually did but right now, with over two months of wanting between them, he got the feeling that she was one over-sensitised nerve. His mouth slid from hers to her neck and up behind her ear, sucking on that spot again and squeezing his eyes shut as she came so hard around him it damn near hurt. He panted, stopping all movement for a second as his legs shook and he fought to hold on past the urge to spill himself then and there.
"Jack … Jack." she was panting and he lifted his head. "Please …" she didn't need to qualify that. He knew she needed more; her relief at being able to be together like this clearly written all over her face as she reached for him again. He didn't want to push their luck but he could never leave her wanting, especially not when she was wanting him.
"Here, I've got you." He directed her feet back down to the floor and turned her in his arms. His legs weren't going to take round two like that nor was his back for that matter; he was younger but he wasn't Superman. Jack leant his chest against her back and pressed her gently against the crates, her hands instantly went out catching herself on them. He pushed her pants further down her legs and as she widened her stance he slid his arm around her middle. He had a moment to remember the first time he'd taken her like this; it had been tense then too, on the back of a row after that damn shopping mall and the Super mutant menace inside it. He'd felt more than just alive, he'd felt damn near miraculous as he'd bent her over and thrust into her waiting body. The feeling was similar now except there was a gratitude there that he'd been too angry to feel that first time; gratitude that she'd let him so much as lay a paw on her, that she'd still want him to. He gently slid his hands to her hips and pressed a kiss to her neck as he thrust up into her waiting heat again. She gasped, tightening sharply around him and throwing her head back, hitting his shoulder as he let his hand rise to hold her tightly against him, his forearm nestled between her breasts as he stroked her long throat, fingers worrying it as he held her loosely there.
"Oh yes! Please. Please Jack." she pleaded, sounding more desperate than he'd ever heard her before. The sound was as arousing as it was terrifying as she rocked back sharply wanting all of him. He couldn't fail her. Not this time.
"I'm here." he murmured, his lips attached to the back of her neck as he lowered his hand to her breasts and began to fondle them firmly, wanting it to feel as good as he possibly could for her. Anything to banish the memories. This was theirs. "I love you Sam baby." he hummed against her skin, thrusting firmly and trying with every muscle in his damn pelvis to angle himself towards the front of hers, searching for that elusive angle that would leave her soaked and sated.
"That's it, come on baby." he purred taking her ear lobe into his mouth and worrying it with his teeth as his hands took both of her breasts in firm rhythmic caresses, in time with his thrusts, teasing her nipples to taut peaks beneath her shirt. His movements grew more forceful as she started to lose her rhythm; he took over, hard and fast, as deep as he could manage. He was so close, so damn close. All of his vaunted control abandoning him between her legs.
"Sam …. God Sam. Love you so much." he managed to get out as he came hard. He was all but standing on shaking legs as he continued to rock into her, a moan tearing loose from his throat at the feel of her clenching all around him as she kept up the movement of his hips and his softening cock until she was making those gasping little mewls he had come to know so well. Smiling wildly he thrust into her a few more times. She was so close. He slipped from her quickly, turning her suddenly in his arms and kissing her roughly as he lifted his hard thigh against her desperate clit. She came with a whimper this time and he swallowed the sound in his mouth, holding her close, every inch of her pressed against him, including the smile he could feel mirroring his own.
"Happy Anniversary." he whispered when she'd finally gotten her breath back and she laughed gently. Reaching up to brush her thumb over his lips.
"Happy Anniversary Jack." she sighed. "Thank you."
"Oh trust me, thank you." he added, reaching forward to secure her pants from where they'd worked themselves around her ankles and hoisting them back up. Jack reached down for his own, keeping her in the circle of his arms as they redressed each other. They didn't talk about it or how momentous and amazing it had been. Earth shattering, Jack might have said, to be able to touch her again after fearing they'd never get to be completely intimate like that again. Deciding in a moment of mutual understanding to simply let it be a return to normality or as near as it could.
"Nice as this is, tell me you have blankets?" Sam pressed, snuggling into his chest to the point that in a moment she was going to get into his shirt with him. "Any food in that cooler to go with the rum or I'm going to be a hungover mess in the morning?"
Jack smirked. "Oh I'm way ahead of you. I told you I had this planned out." He grinned, sliding his hand into hers and tugging her away from the crate they'd just defiled, just as he whipped the lid off. Inside were jumpers, hats, gloves and a blanket. He hadn't even had to prepare these. Apparently, everyone who had to do a watch out here on the Forecastle needed these babies. She tugged the jumper on and the beanie over her head as he wrapped a blanket around them both. They sunk down to sit on the crate lid to protect their asses from the cold metal floor.
"Sweet donutty-flavoured goodness?" He handed her the Donapples he'd smuggled in with the rum and her eyes lit up in delight. It had been a while since they'd had any of the good stuff; the protein rations sucked for flavour.
"Okay, now I'm feeling spoiled." she sighed, taking a bite and swiping her rum to take a long slow pull with her lips wrapped around the stem; his eyes lingered on every inch of her throat and mouth and he had to shift slightly. God! … what this woman did to him. She handed him the bottle and he wrapped his mouth around the rim, deciding rum that tasted like Carter was just fine.
They sat there looking out over the view of Boston as the sun went down, drinking rum and beer, munching on Donapples and some beef jerky strips he'd swindled from the mess earlier, wrapped in each other's arms on a flying battle blimp. Not the worse way to end a day, or a year together, he reasoned.
0000000000000000
Sam was like a new woman. Her steps felt lighter, her heart, which had begun to ache with missing the intimacy that she had only found with Jack buried inside her, was suddenly full again. She hadn't realised the distance she'd inadvertently put between them in her efforts to fix what she'd thought she had somehow broken. Of course Jack hadn't seen it that way but he'd been feeling exactly the same. They had promised not to blame each other; perhaps they should have promised not to blame themselves. Either way, she felt like it was behind them for the time being. Her life was once again full of work and Jack which was literally all she wanted out of it.
It seemed having both aspects of her life back in balance was a good focusing rod because her creativity was flourishing with the freedoms and tech at her fingertips. Her Vertibird was ready for a test run. Ingram and Maxson had come down to the Airport with Captain Kellis to see what she'd managed to achieve in her month of hard graft and only two relatively minor explosions but before that there was something she needed to try out. She indicated for them to come to the control panel she'd set up; jerry-rigged from the airport's old terminals and set into the side of what had once been a huge warehouse for aircraft which now held most of their supplies.
"There are several reasons your Vertibirds keep ending up like this one." she pointed to the newly restored aircraft. "The first is that you can't get them to bank worth a damn. The second is that it's far too easy to hit an engine or the rotor blade housing. The third …" she grinned seeing Maxson's arms cross as his scowl deepened while she besmirched his 'babies'. "… is a lack of aerial combat experience in your pilots, against either ground or air forces. The fourth …" she listed, stopping Kellis from butting in as she saw Jack give her a wave from the pilots seat. She grinned back. He'd been working hard on problem three. "… is that you have literally no early warning system. They can't see what's about to hit them. And finally … no way of defending against or deflecting incoming missiles." She turned to them, hands on her hips. "I'd add an inherent instability from the nuclear core but that would seem fairly redundant at this point." she shrugged.
"So … what have you done about any of those things?" Maxson grit out; beneath his gruff expression she thought she detected a hint of excitement in his eyes, the faintest curve to his lips. She'd cracked harder men than him, her Dad for one.
"Fixed them." Sam smirked and flipped a switch. The console lit up. "With a little help from Jack and our Minutemen friends, I'm going to demonstrate to you what a radar system is and just why you need it on all your ships."
She gave the signal and Jack started up the engine. The powerful down thrust threw up a bunch of dust and she turned away for a second shielding her eyes as he lifted off and up with his four-man crew, all handpicked. As he went up smoothly and quickly, her eyes were on Kellis. His eyes widened fractionally and she suppressed a smug grin, knowing that damn thing had just gone up faster and smoother than any vertical take-off anyone had managed before. That was half Jack, half her modifications.
"And how exactly are the Minutemen going to assist us? You plan for them to take pot-shots at my ship?" Captain Kellis gave her a look.
"I thought she was my ship until I was done with her?" Sam replied and it drew an actual smirk from Elder Maxson's lips before he masked it. "But to answer your question, I assume Paladin Danse told you how we saved his recon team at the Police HQ?" Maxson blinked and really did give her a dark look.
"Their mortar fire can reach here? We're at least 20km away." he snapped at her.
Sam shrugged. "I may have boosted the range. Trust me, they can fire a lot further than 20km. But don't worry. If they haven't shot at you yet, they aren't going to. Not when their General's in your ranks." Sam indicated Jack above them with her finger and gave Maxson a warning look. "I only point it out to make it clear to you that they could have fired at any time and didn't." she told him firmly. She watched him absorb that quietly, it sitting clearly uneasily. Before she demonstrated a technology that was going to change the power balance somewhat significantly, and potentially render the Minutemen's weapons against the Brotherhood obsolete, she damn well wanted to make sure they were all playing on the same side.
"I see." he muttered. "Very well. Impress me Knight. Just how exactly is the Vertibird going to survive a mortar strike?"
Sam grinned. "Oh they're not firing at the Vertibird." Sam spoke into the radio. "Major Shaw. This is Colonel …" she paused, catching herself at Kellis' sharp look and Ingram's grin. "This is Knight Carter. Light it up."
"Received Colonel." She bit out the former moniker with what Sam thought was relish. "Incoming. I suggest you take cover inside those fancy armour suits!" Sam flipped the radio off and moved to the second console. A mirror to Jack's seated front and centre in the cockpit.
"What is that? Some sort of scanner?" Ingram was beside her, her eyes nervously scanning above. She at least had an inkling of what was coming at them.
"It's based on the principle of electromagnetic waves, radio and microwave, transmitted through this emitter and back to the receiver. With the program I have set up it will allow us to detect the angle, distance and velocity of incoming objects." Sam explained the basic concept of radar.
Proctor Ingram gave her a frankly startled then impressed look. "What sort of objects?"
Sam grinned. "All sorts." Ingram gave her a lip twitch, clearly wanting more. "Aircraft, vehicles, ballistic missiles, weather patterns … even near-Earth objects, should there be any." Sam confided.
"Mortar fire perhaps?" Maxson leant in over their shoulders sounding slightly uneasy given as they had given the order to fire already.
"I expect so." Sam replied with a lip quirk and he gave her a dark look, though she was sure there was a twinkle in his eye. Oh, there was definitely a sense of humour somewhere in there. She clearly had been spending too much time with Jack if she'd taken to using his tricks to getting under people's skin.
"Ah yes, now I see that you and your husband share a similar wit." he sighed. "Should we not take cover as your good Major suggested?" Maxson asked, eyeing the sky. Apparently, he'd seen a mortar strike before himself.
"That depends on whether you trust your Knights." Sam challenged and he gave her another look. Oh she knew she was pushing it but she was also supremely confident in her abilities right now. She'd blown up a sun and fixed a broken ship stranded in a slightly alive nebula with a concussion while suffering some profound hallucinations and saved her kidnapped crew. This was practically child's play and she was having a little too much fun, as Jack had pointed out when he'd kissed her thoroughly behind the supply crates. But it also served an important tactical purpose; at the time she hadn't considered it but she had provided a somewhat immense tactical advantage to the Minutemen, one that could be used offensively if they chose it. Major Shaw had made no bones about her concerns about the Brotherhood, who by and large had ignored the Minutemen's presence. In her mind, she was rebalancing the books with this, providing the Brotherhood with a way to defend themselves should they need too.
Sam returned her attention to Maxson for a moment who was waiting for her expectantly to expand on her snarky statement. She swallowed, dampening down her enthusiasm for a moment to focus. "Sir, Knight O'Neill's Vertibird is equipped with C-RAM technology and heat tracking missiles, along with a host of counter measures." When in doubt fall back on 'Sir' she acknowledged. Maxson nodded.
"And that will allow him to intercept the mortars using this … radar?" Maxson queried finally clearly humouring her 'techno-babble' as Jack would have called it but cutting to the point none the less.
Sam nodded. "Let's hope or I imagine this will be a short demonstration."
The mortars arched overhead and they watched them come; her radar tracking and beeping away, ticking off the distance as they scattered to rain down over where she stood. Jack's Vertibird soared overhead with the C-RAM missiles launching from either side of the wings as he swung sideways, using her new manoeuvring thrusters and lining up his team who were behind the wide beam rapid firing Gauss rifle on one side and the Gatling gun firing self-destructing rounds on the other. Between them they picked off and shot down every one of the mortars. Sam gave herself a moment to return her heartbeat to normal and suppress a wide grin to something a little more professional. She couldn't help being relieved. After all, it had been a bit of a risk given the tech out here.
Jack did a lap of honour as Maxson congratulated them, turning the Vertibird in a sharp circle and delighting Kellis and Ingram with the new manoeuvrability.
"I daresay you have done it Knight Captain Carter." Elder Maxson spoke from her side. "I confess to being impressed." His eyes were on the Vertibird as he spoke.
Sam looked up sharply. "Knight Captain?" she managed.
His dark eyes dropped to her and he placed his hands firmly behind his straightened back. "Well, we can hardly make the pilot of my latest Vertibird deploying shock troopers a Knight-Commander and not promote the soldier responsible for fixing his bird, now can I? Knight Captain of the Flight Deck should do it. I would prefer you remain on the Prydwen whenever possible." He added with finality and Sam swallowed, that hadn't been the plan. 'Crap.'
"Whilst my husband is deployed to the front lines?" Sam queried with a touch of tension in her voice that she was unable to mask, realising Ingram had been absolutely correct in her assumptions of what would happen to her if she stuck her head above the parapet and showed how valuable her brain might be.
"Is that not where soldiers belong?" Maxson frowned. "And he is undoubtedly an asset there."
Sam wasn't sure what to say to that, only that the instinct not to be separated from Jack again was coursing through her. Bad things happened when they were apart, that had always been the case. Every disaster personally and professionally seemed to have happened when they weren't there to watch each other's backs. Now she just had to convince Maxson of that.
"Elder … Jack and I are a team. Long before we were married we were that. Trust me, if you want the best out of us you'd be wiser to keep us together, whenever possible." Sam half told, half asked him, before realising he was looking slightly affronted. "Sir." she tacked on and he snorted at her clear insubordination. Maxson sighed, looking resigned to it and she saw Ingram give her a grin over his shoulder.
"Very well Knight Captain Carter, I will take it under advisement." he affirmed, looking like it might pain him to do that. His eyes drifted back to the Vertibird; Jack was bringing back to land with supreme skill.
"Far be it for me to hinder what is shaping up to be my best team. Where possible we'll see to keep his deployments brief." he conceded and Sam smiled thinly. She supposed she couldn't get more than that at this point; nothing about her going out but at least Jack wouldn't be off all the time. As if reading her mind Maxson cut across her line of thought.
"I need you here for now Knight Captain. As I said it is truly exceptional work but there's a lot more to be done. I expect all my Vertibirds to be upgraded to your specifications. You're to report to Captain Kellis. He will no doubt have ideas for the retrofit you will be completing on the Prydwen. It would seem you were most correct in our key vulnerabilities and the solution."
"Yes Sir." She replied a little mulishly before noting his curious expression and forced a smile.
"Get on the radio Knight Captain and inform our new Minutemen allies of the results of your test. I'm sure they are eager to know they didn't annihilate us. I expect that you have a plan to fix this little tactical disadvantage of our current HQ's position that isn't reliant on me having a Vertibird in the air twenty-four seven?" Maxson asked and she heard the bite and command in his tone. Sam stood coming to attention having sensed the shift; he was rightly concerned.
"I'm on it Sir," she pointed to the walls. "C-Ram equipped automated laser missile turrets. One is currently operational and would have been a failsafe should the Vertibird have failed to intercept all mortars in our demonstration. The rest will be operational by the end of the day." She snapped to attention when his eyes went to the missile platforms he could see the Knights assembling where she'd instructed and back to her. A sharp nod indicated his obvious agreement with her plan if not his approval of her methods, given as she had clearly taken a few liberties in her 'demonstration' and gone ahead to set-up heavy ordinance around their perimeter without a whiff of any actual permissions. Damn she was seriously out of practice on the chain of command if she'd started to go down Daniel's preferred route of 'better to ask forgiveness than permission.'
"Very good Knight Captain. Carry on." he stated pointedly with a hard look that suggested he didn't fly with that 'forgiveness vs permission' line of thinking. Fortunately for her it had worked but she noted that away for later, fighting a blush. It had been a while since she'd been rebuked by a senior officer and she thought she might have gotten lucky that he hadn't balled her out for it.
"Yes Sir and thank you for the promotion Elder. I won't let you down." she added for good measure bringing her fist up to her chest after remembering at the last moment not to salute. She figured when in doubt 'suck up'; her brilliant brain might only get her so far even with Maxson. Jack was better than she was at knowing where the line sat and when to put a toe over it. She doubted the Elder brooked insubordination, he clearly liked to have a leash on his men.
As Jack disembarked the Vertibird and Elder Maxson clasped his arm firmly in a shake of camaraderie she couldn't help but feel out of the boys club again; they gathered around Jack, heads together, talking strategy and she was left with Ingram … quite literally tidying up the mess of her little test, however successful.
"So … you're really doing it huh?" Ingram prodded and Sam turned to give her a curious look. "Going for the gold. Can't say I'm too unhappy about that but if you think he's going to let you run around on the ground after this little demonstration, your crazier than I thought."
Sam bit the inside of her lip to avoid from saying anything and refocused her attention on the Knights installing the missiles, noticing one of them was clearly an idiot. "Knight!" she bellowed stalking over, "Please tell me you're not about to install that launcher in that direction … I'd like to keep the base in one piece if you please!" she snapped, rushing up the ladders as Jack and the other commanders disappeared off to a tent; acutely aware that for a moment all eyes had been on her and she wasn't so sure it had come out the way she'd intended, even if it had got her promoted.
00000000000
END NOTES:
Reveille: The quest name is a reference to the name given to the bugle call used to wake military personnel at sunrise, and is derived from the French word "réveille," meaning "to wake up."
I thought the title of this Chapter, though not directly related to this particular quest in Fallout 4, was apt as Sam's had something of a re-awakening in this.
This and Chapter 9 were originally one long chapter but it got a little too long (32 pages lol) so I've had to split it. Chapter 9 will carry on directly after this one.