"Rice or baked potatoes?"
"What?"
Jack smiled sleepily, thinking he wasn't the only one that wasn't completely awake.
"Do you want rice with this? Or baked potatoes?"
"You're cooking." Meaning 'you decide'.
"Baked potatoes would be easier."
"That's fine with me, Sir."
"It wouldn't kill you to call me Jack, would it?"
Sam blushed, slightly, and shook her head. "I suppose not. If you'd rather- "
"I don't want to have to call you 'Major' all night, Sam," Jack said. "And it wouldn't be fair if I call you Sam and make you call me 'Sir'."
"Okay."
"Potatoes?"
"Yes."
She watched as he dug out a couple of potatoes and wrapped them in tinfoil, and then threw them in the oven.
"Something to drink? I have..." He opened up the fridge and grimaced. "Coffee? Water? Another beer?"
Sam smiled, and shook her head. "I don't need anything, Jack."
"I'll make a pot of coffee, Sam. You go sit down. If we hover over the potatoes, they'll never get done. Watched pot never boils and all that."
"It will boil, eventually."
"You've done it?"
She nodded, sheepishly, and Jack grinned and reached out and took her hand, pulling her out of the kitchen with him and into the living room.
"Not at my house, you don't."
She smiled and he handed her the remote control for the TV. "You find a show, I'll make the coffee."
Without waiting for a reply, he left her to settle herself, and went back to the kitchen.
Sam plopped down on the sofa, ignoring the chair because she wanted to stretch out a little. With her bare feet tucked up underneath her comfortably, she leaned against the armrest of the couch, and used one of O'Neill's big puffy throw pillows to rest her head on.
Carter didn't bother flipping the channels. She was fairly certain she wasn't going to find anything on TV anyways, so she left it where he'd had it. On the sports channel. It was playing the sports news just then, and since she knew very little about most of the things the anchor men were discussing – arguing about, really – Sam found herself drifting off once more.
~*~
Jack looked down at her as she slept, debating whether to put her to bed or leave her to sleep where she was. It wasn't as though she hadn't slept in worse places during the recent week they'd had, but that was more reason than ever to put her to bed where she could be more comfortable, as far as O'Neill was concerned.
"Carter?"
She mumbled something he couldn't understand. Jack knelt beside the couch and tried again, this time reaching out and touching her shoulder gently.
"Sam?"
"Hmmm?"
"Wake up and go to bed."
"Hmmm?" That didn't make any sense. Wake up and sleep?
Jack shook his head, smiling despite himself, and scooped her up into his arms carefully. She opened her eyes, but only for a moment, and then they closed again. Her head drooped and rested on his shoulder as he carried her down the hall and into his bedroom where he deposited her back onto his bed. The bed in his guest room wasn't made – since it wasn't used all that often – so it was easier to put her in his, and he'd go sleep in the other room.
"Jack?" She mumbled, sleepily, when she felt him putting her down. She brought her arms around his neck, holding him against her so he couldn't stand upright.
"Shh..." He smiled, knowing she wouldn't be able to see it in the dark. "Go back to sleep, Sam."
"What about dinner?"
"It'll wait. I'll go turn off the oven, and we can eat it tomorrow for lunch."
"I should go home..."
"No way." He knew there was a good chance she'd fall asleep at the wheel in the state she was in. The state she was in which was his fault for making her so sleepy with that massage in the first place. There was no way he'd let her leave without a good night's sleep under her belt, first. "Relax, Sam. Go to sleep."
"Hold me?"
"Sure. Let me go turn off the oven."
By the time he got back, she'd be asleep, and in the morning she'd never remember she asked.
"M'kay."
Sam nodded and let go of Jack's neck, and he stood up with a sigh. Maybe it wouldn't kill them if he did come back and hold her for a little while? It was a pleasant thought, that was for sure. But one that he couldn't allow himself to dwell over. Of course, it would be taking advantage of Sam, and Jack wouldn't do that. When they finally got together, it was going to be because they both were ready. Not because one of them was really tired and wanted to be cuddled.
He tucked the blanket around her once more, bent and kissed her cheek gently, and left his room, closing the door behind him.
"What?"
Jack smiled sleepily, thinking he wasn't the only one that wasn't completely awake.
"Do you want rice with this? Or baked potatoes?"
"You're cooking." Meaning 'you decide'.
"Baked potatoes would be easier."
"That's fine with me, Sir."
"It wouldn't kill you to call me Jack, would it?"
Sam blushed, slightly, and shook her head. "I suppose not. If you'd rather- "
"I don't want to have to call you 'Major' all night, Sam," Jack said. "And it wouldn't be fair if I call you Sam and make you call me 'Sir'."
"Okay."
"Potatoes?"
"Yes."
She watched as he dug out a couple of potatoes and wrapped them in tinfoil, and then threw them in the oven.
"Something to drink? I have..." He opened up the fridge and grimaced. "Coffee? Water? Another beer?"
Sam smiled, and shook her head. "I don't need anything, Jack."
"I'll make a pot of coffee, Sam. You go sit down. If we hover over the potatoes, they'll never get done. Watched pot never boils and all that."
"It will boil, eventually."
"You've done it?"
She nodded, sheepishly, and Jack grinned and reached out and took her hand, pulling her out of the kitchen with him and into the living room.
"Not at my house, you don't."
She smiled and he handed her the remote control for the TV. "You find a show, I'll make the coffee."
Without waiting for a reply, he left her to settle herself, and went back to the kitchen.
Sam plopped down on the sofa, ignoring the chair because she wanted to stretch out a little. With her bare feet tucked up underneath her comfortably, she leaned against the armrest of the couch, and used one of O'Neill's big puffy throw pillows to rest her head on.
Carter didn't bother flipping the channels. She was fairly certain she wasn't going to find anything on TV anyways, so she left it where he'd had it. On the sports channel. It was playing the sports news just then, and since she knew very little about most of the things the anchor men were discussing – arguing about, really – Sam found herself drifting off once more.
~*~
Jack looked down at her as she slept, debating whether to put her to bed or leave her to sleep where she was. It wasn't as though she hadn't slept in worse places during the recent week they'd had, but that was more reason than ever to put her to bed where she could be more comfortable, as far as O'Neill was concerned.
"Carter?"
She mumbled something he couldn't understand. Jack knelt beside the couch and tried again, this time reaching out and touching her shoulder gently.
"Sam?"
"Hmmm?"
"Wake up and go to bed."
"Hmmm?" That didn't make any sense. Wake up and sleep?
Jack shook his head, smiling despite himself, and scooped her up into his arms carefully. She opened her eyes, but only for a moment, and then they closed again. Her head drooped and rested on his shoulder as he carried her down the hall and into his bedroom where he deposited her back onto his bed. The bed in his guest room wasn't made – since it wasn't used all that often – so it was easier to put her in his, and he'd go sleep in the other room.
"Jack?" She mumbled, sleepily, when she felt him putting her down. She brought her arms around his neck, holding him against her so he couldn't stand upright.
"Shh..." He smiled, knowing she wouldn't be able to see it in the dark. "Go back to sleep, Sam."
"What about dinner?"
"It'll wait. I'll go turn off the oven, and we can eat it tomorrow for lunch."
"I should go home..."
"No way." He knew there was a good chance she'd fall asleep at the wheel in the state she was in. The state she was in which was his fault for making her so sleepy with that massage in the first place. There was no way he'd let her leave without a good night's sleep under her belt, first. "Relax, Sam. Go to sleep."
"Hold me?"
"Sure. Let me go turn off the oven."
By the time he got back, she'd be asleep, and in the morning she'd never remember she asked.
"M'kay."
Sam nodded and let go of Jack's neck, and he stood up with a sigh. Maybe it wouldn't kill them if he did come back and hold her for a little while? It was a pleasant thought, that was for sure. But one that he couldn't allow himself to dwell over. Of course, it would be taking advantage of Sam, and Jack wouldn't do that. When they finally got together, it was going to be because they both were ready. Not because one of them was really tired and wanted to be cuddled.
He tucked the blanket around her once more, bent and kissed her cheek gently, and left his room, closing the door behind him.