A/N: Okay, I've had to dust myself off following Friday's SG-1. Think I've recovered enough to continue. Sometimes, fantasy is sooooo much nicer than the actual series!

By the way, this isn't the last chapter. Much more to come, I promise!

Chapter 12

In the fuzzy moments of half-consciousness just before waking, Sam felt herself drifting on a cloud of pure peace and tranquility. She was surrounded by a soothing, familiar scent – understated, masculine, and totally unique. All she felt was warmth, security, and utter contentedness. Life surely couldn't get any better that this.

As she gently awoke, she became aware of more details – the gentle rise and fall of a warm body beneath her cheek, strong arms wrapped securely around her midsection, and a decided lack of snoring… Abruptly, she shifted her position and looked up. Warm, brown eyes, already awake, were fixed on her sleepy features.

"Hi there." Jack's voice rumbled beneath her ear. The slightest smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he took in her first moments of alertness.

She supposed she should feel a little self-conscious or awkward right now, all things considered. None of the events leading to this moment were easy, and the only real reason she was here was due to a catastrophic accident. But, even in light of all this, Sam only felt pleased and comfortable. Waking in his arms was as natural as breathing. "Hi," she replied softly. "Been awake long?"

Jack lifted a shoulder in the barest of shrugs. "A little while. I didn't want to disturb you." The gleaming intensity of his eyes made her shiver. Then, as if of its own accord, one of his hands reached up and traced the line of her cheek.

Sam's breath hitched in her throat. Morning light was streaming through the windows, leaving no plane of Jack's face hidden. Had she really worried that this spell between them would vanish with the night? His features conveyed emotions that she knew he'd never admit in words. Jack O'Neill didn't generally talk about feelings, but anyone who mistook that silence for a lack of emotional depth was dead wrong. Seeing his eyes alight with such obvious affection and – she gulped – desire, made her want to throw up her hands and rejoice.

And then, she had another feeling. One that just made her want to throw up. Period.

Closing her eyes, she groaned in dismay. "Damnit! Not now!"

"Sam?" Jack sounded puzzled and concerned.

Clenching her teeth against the nausea, she spoke slowly and quietly. "Morning sickness. It'll pass. I just need to eat something."

Jack's smile was wry. "Always something with us, hey?" Seeing her eyes flash with remorse and regret, he gently squeezed her before beginning to extricate himself from beneath her. "I'll go get you something. Soda crackers, right?"

Sam couldn't help smiling. "Yes." Looking at him thoughtfully, she asked, "How'd you know?"

He glanced off into the distance for a moment. "Sarah always kept soda crackers on the nightstand when she was pregnant with Charlie."

Seeing the faraway look on his face, she winced. Charlie. She could only imagine how painful these reminders must be. Softly, she spoke almost to herself. "I keep forgetting that one of us has done this before."

As if emerging from a dream, Jacks' eyes returned to hers instantly. He let his gaze linger on her face for a moment before speaking. "But not with you." Then, with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he got up and walked into the kitchen.

Sam felt herself grow misty-eyed. Life had been so unfair to Jack O'Neill. One sucker-punch after another had finally led him to this. And, all at once, she was a bundle of doubts.

She had been forced upon him. Oh, sure, she knew he cared for her. And, after last night, she definitely knew he was attracted to her. But she couldn't squelch the sick feeling of dread that erupted in her when she contemplated how life would be different if she had gone with Daniel and Teal'c on P6Y-441, instead of to the Harvest Celebration with Jack.

She'd still be with Pete. And Jack, being Jack, would probably never have objected to that arrangement. Their careers would be secure. And he wouldn't be burdened with a family he'd never asked for.

The whole line of thought wasn't doing much for Sam's nausea. Abruptly, she sat up, ready to dash to the bathroom if necessary. And then, as if by magic, a handful of soda crackers appeared in front of her.

Kneeling down, Jack carefully placed the crackers in one of her hands, and a glass of water in the other. He stayed beside her as she wordlessly began nibbling. After a few minutes, she felt the nausea begin to subside.

Sighing deeply, she set down the glass of water and looked at him. "Thanks. I really hate that."

He smiled. "No problem." Then, directing his voice at her abdomen, he spoke in his trademark 'General O'Neill' voice. "Hey you two! Quit making your mother hurl! That's an order!"

Sam chuckled. "Jack, I don't think they're old enough to enlist yet."

Looking back into her eyes, he gave her the lopsided grin that always made her heart skip a beat. "Yeah, but it's never too early to start them in the right direction."

Sam felt her world turn upside-down. How many times, in the secret depths of her heart, had she dreamt of a moment like this? And how could she feel so blissful, knowing what it had cost the amazing man in front of her? Without warning, Sam burst into tears – not the delicate, feminine tears seen in the movies, but the powerful, gut-wrenching sobs of someone immersed in grief.

"Whoa!" Jack rocked back on his heels in surprise. "Carter?"

Unable to choke out words, Sam simply shook her head, burying her face in her hands.

Totally flabbergasted, Jack nevertheless wrapped her in a strong, secure embrace. She shifted her position so that her face was nestled in his shoulder. Unable to walk away from his gentle reassurance, she wrapped her arms around him and cried bitterly.

Long moments later, when the sobs had subsided, Jack wordlessly reached over and pulled a tissue from a box on the end table. Handing it to Sam, he examined her closely. "Would you like to tell me what that was all about?"

Blotting her eyes, she stifled a hiccup. "It's just…" She looked down at her hands. "You're being so calm and accepting of this whole situation. I know you never asked for this. And I know your life would be completely different without that one, stupid mistake."

Jack regarded her with a firm expression. "Sam, listen to me." He took both her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes. "The hardest lesson I ever learned was that you can't wallow in regret over mistakes. Playing the 'what if' game nearly destroyed me. It's like an amusement park ride that never lets you off. You can go round and round forever, and get nothing but sick to your stomach." He squeezed her fingers gently, softening his tone of voice. "Sam, if I stopped hating myself for accidents that only made the world a darker, more hellish place, why would I regret those with positive outcomes?"

She bit her lip, tears still glistening in her big, blue eyes. "You really think there's going to be a positive outcome from this?"

His shook his head. "Carter, of course there is." The look on his face was a combination of affection, exasperation, and disbelief.

Not backing down, Sam gazed at him piercingly. "Jack, you can't tell me that you wanted this – that you wanted me. We had plenty of opportunities to give in and make it work between us. But it never happened until now."

For a long moment, he just looked at her, brown eyes alight with intensity. When he finally spoke, it was quiet and simple. "Samantha, I've always wanted you."

Still uncertain, she looked back at him without blinking. "But, like this?"

Jack reached up and took her face in his hands. "Any way I can get you, Sam."

Seeing the straightforward honesty in his eyes, she felt as if the earth had shifted beneath her. In an instant, she knew he was right. How could she regret any of her life up to this point, if it brought her to this moment, with him?

There was no way of knowing who moved first. In the space of a heartbeat, they were entwined in a passionate kiss, the likes of which Sam had never felt before. Longing, desire, fear, affection, and need all blended together in a brilliant wave of emotion. When it crashed over the pair, the rest of the world faded into a distant corner of reality. They existed only for each other.

Frantically, Jack tugged Sam to her feet. With movements that lacked any grace or poise, he began propelling her toward the bedroom, never releasing her from the sweet intensity of their kiss.

Just as desperately, Sam began tugging clothes away from his body. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was terrified that fate would find another roadblock to their happiness. She needed him, right now, before something else interrupted. Even if everything fell apart tomorrow, she thought she might die if she couldn't feel the warmth of his touch immediately.

Stumbling into his bedroom, Sam felt herself being lifted onto the huge, king-sized bed. There were no words. And unlike their last encounter, which had been deliciously slow, tender, and dreamy, their coupling this time was frantic. Clothes were discarded without regard for their condition. They never even took the time to turn back the covers. It was raw, elemental, and utterly soul-shattering.

And, in the last moment, before Sam flew into reaches of space never dreamed of by even the Ancients, she pulled Jack's ear to her lips and whispered the phrase she'd denied for so long.

"I love you, Jack."