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Jane and Erin took turns reliving tales from their days at MIT, of parties Sam hadn't attended and gatherings she had probably skipped because she had a report due or an upcoming exam. Occasionally, they would find an embarrassing tale to relay to Jack – and Sam tried – unsuccessfully – to divert the conversation.
"Jane, please... that was a very long time ago—"
"Oh, come on, Sam. I'd love to hear."
Jack's arm rested on the back of her chair, and his fingertips had been caressing her neck and shoulders for the last five minutes... driving her to the near brink of insanity. She tried to control herself, but worried that if he didn't stop soon she could very well orgasm sitting right there at the table.
His palm came against her skin as he curled his hand around the back of her neck. "I can always use more ammunition..."
She shot him an oh-very-funny glance. "I suppose you're going to tell Daniel and T—Tom as soon as we get back?"
"Who's Daniel and T-Tom?" Russ asked, mocking her near slip.
"Just two friends of ours," Sam answered. "We work together."
"Doing Deep Space Telemetry..."
Sam glared at Russ. After all these years, he was still the biggest ass she had ever known. Jack's thumbs worked the tight knot Russell's questions had immediately formed in her shoulders. She took in a long, deep breath and snaked her hand under the table to rest it on Jack's knee.
"Yes," she said, making sure her voice made it clear Russ should shut up and back off.
He didn't get the hint.
"I don't know. It always seemed to us that something so benign as deep space telemetry would be too beneath the wonder child we knew as Samantha Carter. You had such a promising future with the Air Force, didn't you, Samantha? I remember you saying you wanted to be an astronaut. What happened? Did you flunk out of flight school? Piss someone off and get bumped to the pointless job of mapping galaxies no human will ever see?"
"Russ, drop it..." Jane whispered.
"Now, come on, Jane. We've all been wondering. We barely hear from Samantha for years... just the occasional Christmas card or email... to the two of you, anyway... and she sweeps in to Erin's wedding with a grin on her face and a Colonel on her arm. We want to know what's been going on for the last ten years, Samantha. Fill us in. For instance, how long have you and the Colonel here known each other?"
Jack's hand slipped from her neck and he sat forward, folding his hands together on the tabletop. Sam felt the shift in his demeanor, recognized the authority in his stance.
"Not seeing why that's important, Russ."
"We want to know, Jack. We're her friends."
"Russell..." Erin said, backing up Jane's previous request.
"And if the two of you work in the same place... and forgive me if I'm wrong, because I'm in no way a military aficionado... can you even date? Or... is what you do qualify as dating? After all, 'dating' might be too young a word for a man of Jack's advanced years."
"Russell, shut the hell up," Phillip, Jane's husband, snapped.
Sam saw Jack's hands curl into fists, and she shot to her feet. "Dance with me, Jack," she said quickly.
He raised his head and glared at Russ across the table. But he didn't move. She put her hand on his shoulder, and realized he was holding his breath. Not moving. Not flinching.
"Jack, please..."
Then he stood, and with his hand pressed to her back, they moved to the dance floor as a new song began. Jack pulled her to him, his arms hard, but gentled as they closed around her. He twirled her around once before bringing her close and grasping her hand over his heart. Their cheeks rested together and his breath whispered over her ear as they swayed to the music. Despite his attempt to squelch it, Sam felt the tension in his body.
"Jack..." she said softly.
"Shhhhh."
She closed her eyes and enjoyed being in his arms. His hand moved up and down her spine, warm and gentle and he dipped his head to press his face against her shoulder and she heard him draw in a long breath.
"Jack..." she said again. "Jack, I'm sorry."
"No talking."
Sam smiled, despite the anger that Russ had stirred in her. They continued the dance, and Sam slipped her arms up to wrap them around his neck. Their dance was probably more provocative than most on the floor, but she didn't care. Like he had said before, and she had agreed, they only had this weekend and she was going to take what she could.
She stroked his hair and relished in the feeling of being cherished by him.
"Sam," he finally said.
"Yes?"
"I'm so going to kick his ass by the end of this weekend."
She laughed and pulled back enough to look into his face. The smile on his lips was subtle, but it reached all the way to his brown eyes. The tension was gone... the anger dissipated. Sam held her hands against his cheeks and leaned up for a kiss. His open lips covered hers and he stopped dancing, holding her in the deep contact. Her insides liquefied, warmed and spread out into her limbs. Her heart pounded... her breath quickened.
Why did he have to kiss her like this in public?
The music stopped, and the conductor announced a short break. Reluctantly, they had to leave the dance floor and head back to the table. Sam noticed the men were gone, leaving only Jane and Erin seated. She glanced around, and back at Erin as Jack pulled her chair out for her.
"Phillip and Tim took Russ to the bar. I think they're going to tell him to knock it off if he knows what's good for him. Jack, I'm so sorry Russ is being such an ass. I don't know what his problem is."
"I do. Russ has always been an ass," Sam said.
Jack stood behind her chair, not sitting, and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right back," he said.
She looked up at him. "Jack..."
"Don't worry," he said with a cocky grin and a wag of his eyebrows. "No blood will be spilled."
Then he walked away, leaving Sam to sit and watch him go. Erin's voice pulled her back.
"Russ was right when he said we want to know what's been going on in your life, Samantha. But not the way he said it. We just care." Erin smiled and glanced in the direction that Jack had left in. "And you have to understand our interest. Your Colonel O'Neill is one sexy man!"
Sam smiled, slowly and knowingly. "Yes, he is." She took in a long, shuddered breath. And in less than thirty-six hours he'll go back to being my Colonel, not My Colonel.
Jane and Erin took turns reliving tales from their days at MIT, of parties Sam hadn't attended and gatherings she had probably skipped because she had a report due or an upcoming exam. Occasionally, they would find an embarrassing tale to relay to Jack – and Sam tried – unsuccessfully – to divert the conversation.
"Jane, please... that was a very long time ago—"
"Oh, come on, Sam. I'd love to hear."
Jack's arm rested on the back of her chair, and his fingertips had been caressing her neck and shoulders for the last five minutes... driving her to the near brink of insanity. She tried to control herself, but worried that if he didn't stop soon she could very well orgasm sitting right there at the table.
His palm came against her skin as he curled his hand around the back of her neck. "I can always use more ammunition..."
She shot him an oh-very-funny glance. "I suppose you're going to tell Daniel and T—Tom as soon as we get back?"
"Who's Daniel and T-Tom?" Russ asked, mocking her near slip.
"Just two friends of ours," Sam answered. "We work together."
"Doing Deep Space Telemetry..."
Sam glared at Russ. After all these years, he was still the biggest ass she had ever known. Jack's thumbs worked the tight knot Russell's questions had immediately formed in her shoulders. She took in a long, deep breath and snaked her hand under the table to rest it on Jack's knee.
"Yes," she said, making sure her voice made it clear Russ should shut up and back off.
He didn't get the hint.
"I don't know. It always seemed to us that something so benign as deep space telemetry would be too beneath the wonder child we knew as Samantha Carter. You had such a promising future with the Air Force, didn't you, Samantha? I remember you saying you wanted to be an astronaut. What happened? Did you flunk out of flight school? Piss someone off and get bumped to the pointless job of mapping galaxies no human will ever see?"
"Russ, drop it..." Jane whispered.
"Now, come on, Jane. We've all been wondering. We barely hear from Samantha for years... just the occasional Christmas card or email... to the two of you, anyway... and she sweeps in to Erin's wedding with a grin on her face and a Colonel on her arm. We want to know what's been going on for the last ten years, Samantha. Fill us in. For instance, how long have you and the Colonel here known each other?"
Jack's hand slipped from her neck and he sat forward, folding his hands together on the tabletop. Sam felt the shift in his demeanor, recognized the authority in his stance.
"Not seeing why that's important, Russ."
"We want to know, Jack. We're her friends."
"Russell..." Erin said, backing up Jane's previous request.
"And if the two of you work in the same place... and forgive me if I'm wrong, because I'm in no way a military aficionado... can you even date? Or... is what you do qualify as dating? After all, 'dating' might be too young a word for a man of Jack's advanced years."
"Russell, shut the hell up," Phillip, Jane's husband, snapped.
Sam saw Jack's hands curl into fists, and she shot to her feet. "Dance with me, Jack," she said quickly.
He raised his head and glared at Russ across the table. But he didn't move. She put her hand on his shoulder, and realized he was holding his breath. Not moving. Not flinching.
"Jack, please..."
Then he stood, and with his hand pressed to her back, they moved to the dance floor as a new song began. Jack pulled her to him, his arms hard, but gentled as they closed around her. He twirled her around once before bringing her close and grasping her hand over his heart. Their cheeks rested together and his breath whispered over her ear as they swayed to the music. Despite his attempt to squelch it, Sam felt the tension in his body.
"Jack..." she said softly.
"Shhhhh."
She closed her eyes and enjoyed being in his arms. His hand moved up and down her spine, warm and gentle and he dipped his head to press his face against her shoulder and she heard him draw in a long breath.
"Jack..." she said again. "Jack, I'm sorry."
"No talking."
Sam smiled, despite the anger that Russ had stirred in her. They continued the dance, and Sam slipped her arms up to wrap them around his neck. Their dance was probably more provocative than most on the floor, but she didn't care. Like he had said before, and she had agreed, they only had this weekend and she was going to take what she could.
She stroked his hair and relished in the feeling of being cherished by him.
"Sam," he finally said.
"Yes?"
"I'm so going to kick his ass by the end of this weekend."
She laughed and pulled back enough to look into his face. The smile on his lips was subtle, but it reached all the way to his brown eyes. The tension was gone... the anger dissipated. Sam held her hands against his cheeks and leaned up for a kiss. His open lips covered hers and he stopped dancing, holding her in the deep contact. Her insides liquefied, warmed and spread out into her limbs. Her heart pounded... her breath quickened.
Why did he have to kiss her like this in public?
The music stopped, and the conductor announced a short break. Reluctantly, they had to leave the dance floor and head back to the table. Sam noticed the men were gone, leaving only Jane and Erin seated. She glanced around, and back at Erin as Jack pulled her chair out for her.
"Phillip and Tim took Russ to the bar. I think they're going to tell him to knock it off if he knows what's good for him. Jack, I'm so sorry Russ is being such an ass. I don't know what his problem is."
"I do. Russ has always been an ass," Sam said.
Jack stood behind her chair, not sitting, and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right back," he said.
She looked up at him. "Jack..."
"Don't worry," he said with a cocky grin and a wag of his eyebrows. "No blood will be spilled."
Then he walked away, leaving Sam to sit and watch him go. Erin's voice pulled her back.
"Russ was right when he said we want to know what's been going on in your life, Samantha. But not the way he said it. We just care." Erin smiled and glanced in the direction that Jack had left in. "And you have to understand our interest. Your Colonel O'Neill is one sexy man!"
Sam smiled, slowly and knowingly. "Yes, he is." She took in a long, shuddered breath. And in less than thirty-six hours he'll go back to being my Colonel, not My Colonel.