He stayed in the kitchen while she cooked, making small talk about the evening they'd had and enjoying a chuckle over the costumes they were wearing – and especially the ones Daniel and Teal'c had worn. Jack hadn't managed to get a picture – there weren't any pockets for a camera in his Santa suit, but several of the staff at the orphanage had brought cameras with them, and Jack had promised himself that he'd seek out at least one copy of Teal'c in the elf outfit – although he wasn't sure he'd dare show it to anyone. The Jaffa would definitely kill him if he found out.

Sam put him to work making toast once the omelets were close to being done, and he stood hip to hip with her while she minded the stove, and he watched the toaster, but he still managed to engage in a conversation. His initial reaction to her closeness had taken him by surprise, but he was far more under control now. Even when she brushed his hand reaching for the spatula to turn the omelets.

"Plates." She ordered, pointing at the right cupboard.

Jack reached over and pulled a couple down, handing them to her. Then the toast popped up and he grabbed it. And promptly dropped the first slice.

"Ouch!"

"You okay?"

"Fine."

He scowled, popping his burnt finger in his mouth. Sam smiled.

"Want me to butter it?"

"I got it."

Now his scowl was directed at her, but it didn't even make the smile fade.

"You sure? I'd hate for you to come away scarred."

"Cute."

She snorted softly. She thought she was.

Jack buttered the toast while Sam dished up their plates – giving him a far larger portion of the omelet than she gave herself – and then Jack topped the plates with the toast, and carried both plates to the table while she poured them each a cup of coffee.

"It looks great, Carter." He told her as they sat down.

She smiled.

"Thank you, Sir."

"How about Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"It's a holiday, right? We're not working. And we're not on base. Why don't you call me Jack? I won't tell anyone."

"Are you going to call me Sam?"

"Maybe."

"Fine. Jack."

"Thank you. Sam."

They shared a smile, and then Jack turned his attention to the meal, feeling that same old tension building up around them and hoping to diffuse it before it became uncomfortable for either of them.

"No Christmas plans with the family?" He asked her after a couple minutes of steady munching.

She shook her head.

"Mark's with his wife's family, and you know how dad is…"

"Yeah."

"What about you?"

He shook his head, shrugging.

"You know how things are with me… I think I'm just going to stop doing holidays…"

She couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow, even though she knew he wasn't feeling sorry for himself, but she couldn't think of anything to say to that. Jack seemed to realize he'd made her uncomfortable, and he set his fork down.

"Of course… if I didn't do holidays, I'd probably miss out on presents…"

She looked at him surprised.

"How did you know I got you a present?"

"What?"

"How did you know that I have a present for you?" She repeated. "We didn't discuss gifts, I know…"

"You got me a present?"

"You just said that you'd miss out on getting presents if you didn't do holidays…"

He smiled.

"That's not what I said, Sam. I said I'd miss out on presents. I meant giving presents. Would you like yours now? Or would you like to wait until tomorrow?"

"You got me a present?"

"You got me one?"

She nodded, and stood up, going into the living room and opening the closet. She disappeared for a moment, then pulled back and closed the door again. Now, though, she had a large brightly wrapped box in her hand, which she brought over and set down in front of him with a slightly shy smile.

"Open it."

He stared at the box for a moment and then smiled and stood up.

"I'll be right back."

His hand brushed the back of her neck as he passed her, and he headed for the door, slipping back into his boots and going outside. She sat at the table, munching on a piece of toast and waiting for him to come back. Which he did only moments later. And now he had a box in his hand as well. It was wrapped neatly – although there was just enough of a ratty edge to the wrapping that it gave her the impression that he'd wrapped it himself – and the bow was slightly off-center. He set it down in front of her.

"For you."

She smiled and started to reach for it, but then moved her hand away.

"Open yours first."

"Ladies first."

"It's my house."

He grinned, and reached for his present, ripping it open. Inside was a chess set – the board made of black and white marble – and the pieces carved out of a similar material. It was absolutely gorgeous, and Jack pulled out the black king, admiring the details etched into the stone.

"It's beautiful Sam…" he said, obviously impressed, and deeply touched. Sam smiled in pleasure.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Thank you."

He set the king down and looked at her, his brown eyes soft and warm.

Sam's smile changed just a little as the tension that Jack noticed earlier returned in full. She felt her breath catching in her throat, and looked at him questioning, her tongue moistening lips suddenly gone dry. An action that Jack found irresistible. Unable to stop himself, he leaned over and brushed a gentle kiss against her lips – knowing even as he did it that he was crossing a line he shouldn't be anywhere near.