A/N: Hi there! A big thanks for your reviews.
This chapter was inspired by a prompt from the SJ-Shipmas 2019 and the original thing I had in mind when writing the story. Due to corcumstance I am only able to post it now, so sadly it cannot be a part of Shipmas anymore. I still hope you enjoy it though.
The next few chapters might take a little longer now because I have nothing left that's pre-written.
Please let me know what you think. Reviews are always very much appreciated and keep me inspired.
Big thanks to my betas Alex and Allie.
Chapter 3: Sweet Shots
It takes Sam less than ten minutes to change and come back. Instead of her flowy dress she is now clad in stone washed jeans and a comfortable looking red turtleneck sweater which hugs her in just the right places. Damn. She looks just as good in her casual wear as in her evening gown. The puffy coat Jack remembers from earlier is slung over her arm while the other one carries a black duffle bag which probably contains her dress. Her make-up is still on and she must have tousled her hair in the mirror a bit to get rid of the hairspray because it looks fluffier now than before. She is grinning at him and points toward the exit with her head silently asking him if he is ready to go. Jack does not need to be asked twice.
If Teal'c dislikes her decision to go with Jack, he does not say so. He merely asks whether she wants him to accompany them, which Sam politely declines. Instead, he bows his head and steps a side with a polite: "As you wish, Miss Carter."
When they step out into the cold, the back lot is practically deserted except for one shivering figure at the end of the steps. The man's head pops up at the bang of the stage door falling shut and an excited grin spreads over his face when he spies Sam.
"Samantha!"
Jack recognizes the man as the McKenzie guy from after the concert and shots a quick glance at his watch. He has been standing out there in the cold for over two hours waiting for Sam to come out. Sam does not seem bothered by her fan at all and passes Jack to meet the man halfway on the steps.
"Hello Rodney. It's good to see you. Thank you for waiting. How are you doing?"
McKay speaks so fast Jack has trouble following as his words tumble over and over themselves as they come out of his mouth. He clearly adores Sam, her talent and art the way he gushes about her show tonight and how pretty she looked. After shooting Jack a rather pissed look he asks for the flowers as well and Jack is surprised how she thanks him but explains to him she can't take them home as she is leaving for her next tour stop early in the morning. It's a lie but it runs so smoothly out of her mouth Jack would have believed it would he not know better.
Rodney asks her to sign a few things and take a picture. He holds her a bit too close for Jack's taste, but she does not seem to mind while Jack is asked to take the picture. The guy is rather annoying and for a moment Jack considers keeping his finger on the flash to accidentally ruin the picture, but it is not his place to sabotage this fan's whatever-ship he has with Sam, so he tries to take a decent picture before he hands the camera back toward the guy.
"I'm very sorry Rodney, but we have got to go. It was good to see you. Merry Christmas."
They step down the stairs to Jack's truck and he holds the door open for her while he throws her duffle bag on the middle seat between them. McKay eyes them critically before he calls out for Sam to wait. Now Jack really gets annoyed. That guy had his moment, his picture, his signatures and even a hug so why can't he go and let her be for crying out loud?
"Samantha, I know it's none of my business…"
"Then keep out of it," Jack mumbles annoyed, so loud McPainInTheNeck can hear him.
"I'm not talking to you, Sir, who are you anyway?"
"He's my…" Sam starts but Jack has already started the car.
"New supplier. Goodbye, McFly!"
"It's McKay!" Rodney cries but Jack just chuckles and turns the car around. For a moment he wonders whether he was a tad too rude but by the way Sam is grinning she clearly enjoyed the exchange.
"New supplier?"
"What?" Jack shrugs, "He doesn't know I'm supplying you with cake of all things, does he?"
"Poor Rodney. I bet he is going to be waiting at the airport all day tomorrow just waiting for me to check in. I'm glad he has no idea about any of my other plans."
"He waits for you at the airport?!" Jack wonders, his mind playing out some quite weird scenarios. "Why would anyone do that?"
Sam shrugs. She seems less bothered than he does about the fact this obsessive guy follows her around all the time. "He's harmless. Teal'c had his company run a background check on him. As long as he gets his picture and a hug he is fine. As weird as it sounds, I am glad for every fan I have Jack, and as long as he is polite and does not bother me at the hotel or follow me around outside of the tour, I can live with it."
Jack wants to argue but thinks better of it. If she is okay with the way things are he has no right to tell her what to do or how to handle her fans. He wonders if McKenzie is comparable to some of his regulars at Homer's. As annoying as some of them might be, Jack treats them kindly because they keep his business running.
-SJSJSSJ-
They arrive at O'Malley's within the next ten minutes. Due to the snow there is barely any traffic out on the streets and the people have probably turned in for Christmas Eve as many of them will be up early on Christmas morning. This may also be the reason why O'Malley's is more quiet than usual and except for a few figures at the bar, the rest of the place seems deserted.
Sam heads right for the pool table while Jack picks up a beer and a coke from the bar. He has already had one and does not risk wanting to drink more, not when he is out and about with the car in this weather. After tipping the barkeeper generously - it's Christmas after all - he heads over to the pool table where Sam is already readying the billiard balls for a game. She accepts the beer from him and they click glasses before she puts it back down and picks up the cue.
"You play?"
For a second he wonders whether he should lie about it, but there is no need to with her. "A couple of evenings per week actually."
"Cool. Show me what you got, Jack." Sam grins and he raises an eyebrow at her bold challenge.
"I'm not the kind of man to let a woman win," he states. "That would be a cliché and I don't like those."
Sam leans forward on her cue and hands him the white cue ball. Her interest is piqued now and a flutter of something runs through Jack's stomach. Every time he thinks he's got her figured out, she surprises him.
"What kind of man are you, Jack O'Neill?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
God she is so hot, when she catches her lower lip between her teeth, he decides. No, correct that, Samantha Carter is hot doing anything but especially when she bites her lip. The room feels hotter all of a sudden and Jack wonders whether the one beer has already taken a toll on him or whether it is just her presence. He feels good. Their flirty banter makes him feel extremely good and it has been a long time since a woman, well, since anyone has managed to get under his skin like she does.
Sam does not shy away from a challenge, does not shy away from him. Instead, she pulls out a fifty and puts it on the side of the pool table. The stakes just got raised. Jack grins and meets her stake with a fifty of his own before he places the cue ball on the table.
"Ladies first?"
"Now that would be a cliché, wouldn't it?" Sam teases. "And you have made clear how you feel about those. Go ahead. I'll catch up."
Jack shrugs and takes the first shot. He is ready. What he is not quite ready for though, as the game progresses, is to get his behind kicked by none other than Samantha-I-can-handle-any-stick-well-Carter. One ball after the other finds its hole, making Jack wonder where the hell she learned to play like that. He can't even complain because the way she leans over the table, deliberately putting her assets right in front of him makes his insides squirm with something he has not felt in a very long time. Jack enjoys the triumphant looks she shoots over as much as the way the tip of her tongue peeks out when she is thinking particularly hard about the angle of a shot. Although he does not hold back, it is soon clear who will be the winner of this game. Jack may be good and should not have gone easy with the first three shots, but Sam is simply brilliant.
The black eight rolls into the corner hole right where he's standing and Sam grabs for her bottle of beer. She needs to stop this because his mind is going to places which are very, very inappropriate, especially for a woman he has basically just met a couple of hours ago. It doesn't feel like it though, it feels like he has known her for ages. Sam has an easiness around her not many people do and he is craving it, craving her smile, her laugh, her grin like it is the most precious thing in the world. He cannot even be mad about losing the game and her tucking his fifty dollars into the back pocket of her jeans.
"Rematch?" Sam asks, this time sipping from his coke instead of the beer he bought her. "Loser buys the next round?"
"Ya sure betcha. Where the heck have you learned to play like this?"
"It's Physics 1-0-1 and a little bit of Math," Sam replies, taking the chalk to freshen up the tip of her cue. It's more for show than actual help with her shots but weirdly she enjoys the satisfying feeling of the way the dent in the chalk rubs over the tip of the cue.
"No kidding," Jack muses. "Shall I go open up a tab?"
Sam's eyes fall to the clock on the wall. Despite the time with Jack flying by, it is quite late, and she does need to sleep at some point. He watches her consider the clock, then the pool table, then him.
"How about we make it best out of three? Let's consider this the test round."
"Ah. Assessing the weaknesses of the enemy," Jack grins before taking a sip from her beer. Two can play this game after all.
"I'd call it a simple reconnaissance mission of the enemy's terrain," Sam muses, taking back the beer from him. She is looking right at him and she is standing close, very close to his body.
"And what would the next step be?"
"Seize initiative?"
Well who is he to stop her? Jack steps aside, giving her the opportunity to take the first shot. This time she takes it.
Watching her walk around the pool table assessing and processing the information about the location of the balls as well as her silent calculation of just the right angle and strength of the shot is an absolute marvel. He realizes he is way too distracted by her, making him wonder whether that's one of her tactics in the game. Jack barely gets two shots in when she sinks the black eight and makes a little satisfied and triumphant noise about her first win.
Pull yourself together, O'Neill! She is good, very good indeed but two can play this game. So, when the next round starts, Jack does not mind playing dirty. He tries to be distracting, tries to make some stupid jokes and damn it, it works. She's missed two shots already because she had to laugh. The second beer he got her in between games is doing its job as well. No, he is not trying to get her drunk, just trying to disturb her focus and make her loosen up a bit more already. Furthermore, he engages her into silly talk and playful banter up until the point where she accidentally sinks one of his color and curses in a manner which would make half the men in the room blush.
"I know what you're doing, Jack," she tells him, her eyes filled with a sparkle and her lips drawn into a knowing smirk.
"As long as it's working… Sam." There is no need to deny what he's been playing at and thus it is no surprise to both of them when he wins with her having three more balls on the table.
They take a little break and sip at their drinks, watching how one customer after the other staggers out of the bar and the bar keeper slowly starts to clean up for the night. It's past twelve and they need to finish up their game. As much as he does not want this night to end, he has got an early start in the morning with his bakery after all.
"I think we should raise the stakes," Sam proposes.
"What were you thinking?" He has got a few ideas but waits for her suggestion as neither of them seem appropriate for Christmas Eve of all nights.
"How about… The loser owes the winner a kiss."
Bless her. God, bless her. He could kiss her right now. No matter who wins, it seems like an absolute win-win situation to him.
"The game is on."
-SJSJSJSJ-
It's the worst game he has ever played. While Sam misses half her shots on purpose, Jack is not even trying to pretend he wants to win this game. He is way too distracted by her movements to be minding the progress of the game. So, in the end when the bar keeper has cleared his throat for the fourth time, she takes pity on him and sinks the remaining two balls plus the eight in three swift moves.
"Oh, look. I lost. Such a shame," Jack states not even trying to act upset about it. Sam sees right through him and laughs, drowns the last bit of her beer and shrugs her coat on.
"I think we should call it a night."
And what a night it has been. Not what he'd expected when he'd loaded the cake into his car earlier this evening, but the outcome is more than he ever could have hoped for, which is why Jack does not ask about her claiming her win right away. Yes, he might have been a bit disappointed, but it's up to her to determine the time and place and he is going to be a gentleman about it.
Her hotel it turns out, is not far down the road from Pikes Peak Centre and belongs to the city's fancier ones. It means a lot to Jack that she seems to trust him with her location for the duration of her stay but then, she's taken a chance on him the moment she gave him the concert ticket. He feels honored, proud she puts this much faith into him, and it is here and now that he decides no matter what comes next, she has won more than a lifelong admirer of herself and her art tonight.
The car stops just in front of the hotel's main entrance and he gets out to see her off. Sam does not wait for him to open her door, she does not need this kind of attention, but she does want to say goodbye face to face and not with an empty seat and a duffle bag between them.
Jack steps close to her, a bit nervous now that the night has come to an end. He has never been a man of many words but tonight he has probably made a record somewhere. Right now, he still has no clue what to say to her though. He sighs.
"So..."
"So…" Her voice is merely a whisper and he does not know what to do, whether to hug her, to shake her hand or to kiss her absolutely senseless because she is the most wonderful woman he has ever met. It's up to her though.
"Thank you for the wonderful evening, Jack. I… I think this is the best Christmas Eve I have had in a very long time."
"This is goodbye then, huh?"
"Well… There is one more thing." She looks up to the ceiling of the hotel entrance where a giant piece of mistletoe is positioned right above them. A grin crawls over her face as she takes a step closer while he is still staring overhead. This woman can't be serious, can she? It's like she god damn well planned this.
"Is our first kiss really going to be under the mistletoe?" Jack asks disbelievingly.
"Too cliché for you?" Sam counters. She seems genuinely nervous and she should be. This is as cliché as things can get but luckily Jack cares less about cliché right now rather than the opportunity to show her just how much exactly this evening has meant to him. The loser has to pay up after all.
So, he looks down into the most magnificent pools of blue which slowly drop closed and catches her lips with his. She tastes like beer mixed with a sweet remainder of his cake and damn it; this is the best thing that has happened to him in a long while. Jack sucks at her lower lip and she opens up to him willingly, her arms find their way around his neck as the duffle bag drops onto the carpet underneath them.
A noise, a little moan escapes her throat, making him go crazy. How can she be so wonderful, talented and smart and funny and such an amazing kisser all at the same time? Her tongue is sweet and demanding more. Jack does not need to be asked twice and kisses her like his life depends on it.
Moments later they break apart, both breathing heavily. His forehead is resting against hers while her eyes remain closed. Sam's face is completely flushed from the heat of the kiss combined with the cold from the outside. He kisses her once more, this time sweet, lingering and filled with a hint of goodbye.
Neither of them says it since they both know. Therefore, it does not surprise him when she releases her hands around his neck and picks up her duffel bag. She takes a step back and takes a deep breath, shooting him a shy but brilliant smile before she goes inside. If he would have lingered just a moment longer before he got back into his car, Jack would have seen her turn back around to him.
Sam watches him leave. Disappointment does not come. Instead, she steps into the elevator: Humming.