Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, yadda...

A/N: First of all, I want to thank all my reviewers... I am so happy you like the story. Second of all (and last)...

Till the end of the time

Chapter 10

Colonel Jack O'Neill made a last turn, and found himself in front of the door that led into Major Carter's laboratory. Corridor was empty, and was rather grateful for that, because it would look funny to everyone, especially those who knew him (read: everybody on base) to see their Colonel in half past two in the morning, in the 'science' part of SGC, holding two steaming cups of coffee, one in each hand, wondering how will he achieve the almost impossible task of knocking on the door without getting seriously burnt. Some (read: Carter) would simply solve that problem by putting cups on the floor long enough to knock, but Jack had other, more pressing matters on his mind. Like a certain Major's welfare.

He would stood there for some time, lost in his thoughts, and the coffee would be cold by the time he would realize where he was and what was he about to do... if he wasn't interrupted by the sound of the opening doors and the sight of one very disheveled blonde hair appearing behind.

Samantha Carter dozed off on her desk, among the huge piles of papers and small instruments, only to be awaken by the sound of familiar steps approaching and awkward silence that followed. Pushing her hair off her eyes, which was the cause of unique hairstyle Colonel witnessed only seconds afterwards, she got up and slowly opened the door.

"Colonel?" Carter asked, her voice slightly trembling with lousily hidden fear. Memories of the last time Colonel stood outside her doors, inevitably led to those of what followed, and it involved pain. Lots of it. Then her eyes fell on the cups he was holding, and she smiled. Small, but genuine smile. Sam opened the door wider and moved aside to let him in.

"Thought you would like some coffee... but it seems to me I woke you up," he said bit disappointedly, but then noticing slightly red prints of some tool on her face and the mess her desk was in, figured that she must have had a very uncomfortable sleep, and suddenly he wasn't sorry for waking her up. The rest of the team, including Janet knew that Carter almost made a habit out of working too much and then falling asleep right in the spot.

"On the desk again, Major?" he smiled mischievously, but when the words had left his lips and echoed in the darkened lab, Jack realized with a start just how they sounded.

And they sounded nothing like the way he meant them.

He could swore he saw her eyes glint wickedly in the half-light, just for a moment, before expression of confusion took over.

"I mean... " Jack wanted to correct himself, before she got any wrong idea... although when he came to think about it...

"It is all right, Sir."

'Thank you God for making her so understanding,' he thought. Some women he knew would not let him go off the hook so easily.

Samantha felt blood rush to her face, nanosecond after his comment, but when she was saw he was as uncomfortable as she was, she was glad to drop the case. Before it went and got any more embarrassing.

Glancing at the watch, and then at him again, she asked, "Anything I can help you with, Sir?"

He must have looked confused, because she explained, "It is 02:30, Sir."

Waiting for her to clear up the desk, so he could put the coffee down, he decided that the time is as good as it gets.

"Do you believe Daniel?"

'Carter, you are avoiding the answer,' Jack thought when he heard the reply came, "With my life, Sir."

"That is not what I asked," Jack said pulling the chair closer.

Silence followed, disturbed only by the occasional sounds of papers shuffling and constant drumming of Jack's fingers on the desk. She had her back turned to him, as she tried to file the papers into already full drawer. Rather futile attempt. They both knew the purpose of it.

Jack didn't want to press the matters too much, thinking she had enough for a day, so deciding to give her some time, picked up the cup and sipped.

"I do," barely audible and soft answer reached him.

Jack choked on his coffee and spluttered. This was not what he expected. She was a scientist, she was not supposed to believe in things like 'Soldiers of fate'.

Carter sat at the desk, facing him, but didn't look up. Instead she held her gaze firmly fixed on the left-behind paper, written to the last line with equations.

"Why, for crying out loud!?!"

'OK, that was a bit too loud,' she thought, but answered never the less, "I feel it."

Then, realizing that answer had no scientific grounds, and was thus unacceptable, she plugged herself into theorizing, all along keeping her eyes on the paper. She couldn't force herself to look up. To face him, and maybe see different look in his eyes. Although she did change, and she knew it deep inside, holding a false pretences about it was so much easier, then having to face the fact that once, somewhere in the infinite expanses of space and time, she was someone else.

She realized she had been talking all the time, very fast and without much sense to Colonel, judging by her lack of breath and confused look upon her face. But just what she was talking about, was to her, a mystery. Just another one today.

Waving her head, she got up and walked over to the shelf holding large volumes of astrophysics books, and just when she reached out to take one out, she felt her hands shaking. Quickly, she pushed them into pockets of her uniform and stood rooted in the spot. There was nothing she could do to change things, and she hated it. There was nothing to say. Slowly, Sam felt shaking spreading from the tips of her fingers, up her arms and shoulders, concentrating in the area just above her heart. It was like every fiber of her being decided to tremble at its own tune.

Feeling of someone's hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality.

Major Samantha Carter's POV

'Although I don't want to, my eyes seem not to follow commands of my brain, but instead they follow the arm that is so heavily laid on my shoulder. Long fingers burying themselves into the dark green fabric of my shirt, muscles of the biceps, slightly strained by the sight of them through his sleeves, broad shoulders.

There is a shadow of worry in his eyes. He does nothing to hide it. And he says nothing.

Say something Jack, for God's sake!

But instead, he just grips my shoulder a bit harder, and pulls me closer.

His hand slides off and settles at my back, when he puts other one around me, as well, and suddenly, unexpectedly, he is hugging me.

Hard. Like he never wants to let go.

Don't let go. Don't let go Jack, please...

I put my arms around him too, and burry my face in his chests. It feels good. It smells good. He smells of... spices. Mixture of them. There is warmth penetrating cloth of his shirt and it's warming my cold face. I can almost hear sound of his heart beating. Fast. Very fast.

Never let me go, Jack.

I feel something hot and wet on my face, and it takes me a second or two to realize what it is. He seems to understand it before me, and just holds me tighter. I am crying.

I am here, in my lab, at three in the morning, hugging my CO and crying my head off. I could get court-martialed for this.

But I don't care. And neither does he.

Nothing seems to matter anymore.

Nothing except now and here.

And now and here... is us. Just two of us.

His hand reaches my chin, and he slightly raises my head.

Don't do that, Jack, I like it this way.

Coldness of the room flushes my face and seems to sober me a bit. This smell of his is simply intoxicating. Too much. But I can't get enough of it.

Next thing I know, he is holding me at an arm's length, looking at me strangely. My lips feel slightly swollen and salty.

Then it hits me.

I kissed him.

I kissed Colonel Jack O'Neill, my commanding officer and my teammate.

My friend.

All the irony of the situation comes down on me like an avalanche.

He looks at me, his brows furrowing in confusion, and I feel stupid, because I don't remember how I did that, angry at myself because of the same reason and frightened.

Not of the regulations and everything they bring along, but of myself.

He still says nothing, but then, ever so gently, cups my face and wipes the tears off with his thumb.

I know what follows, and I want to say something, but I can't. There is not enough air left in my lungs to be forced out and produce any sound. I want to yell, but all I manage to do is crumple down on the floor.

He is gone.'

A/N: Oh, well… I felt like I needed to 'intensify' Sam and Jack's relationship. Now I did.

Tell me if you like it or not… please… Please?