Always Part 7 of 11
Disclaimer: See Original Post
The elevator stopped on level 28, and the doors slid open. Jack stepped inside, his reports tucked under his arm, and pressed 22 on the wall console. His stomach was telling him it was time for a snack . . . preferably cake.
Yes, definitely cake.
"Hold the elevator!"
Jack's hand shot out, and he stopped the doors from closing just in time for Sam to slide her body between the partially closed panels. As soon as she was inside, he dropped his hand and the doors closed. Jack took a moment to look at her, confirming in his head that yes, today was Tuesday, and yes, she was supposed to be off today, and yes, she was dressed in a sweet pair of jeans and hot blue top.
"Carter, am I imagining things? You're not supposed to be here."
"I know, Sir. And I'm leaving shortly. I just . . . I needed to come talk to you."
Jack popped up one eyebrow. "Anywhere in particular?" he asked, motioning towards the floor buttons. Memories of the last time she hunted him down because she needed to talk to him came to mind. Well, at least this time there would be no poorly-planned red-heads interrupting . . .he hoped.
Sam leaned over and slapped the STOP button with the heel of her hand. The elevator jolted to a standstill.
"Okay . . . that works."
"I know I'm going to sound crazy, but . . . I'm going to just as you a bunch of questions. Will you answer them without thinking too much about why I'm asking?"
Right now, Jack was having a hard time thinking at all. Damn, but those were hot jeans! They hugged her thighs in all the right places! Jack blinked.
"What? Yes, yeah, sure, whatever."
Sam shifted her weight from foot to foot, working her hands nervously in front of her. "Don't think I'm crazy, okay?"
"Carter, you show up on your day off and have stuck us in an elevator . . . I'm not thinking crazy yet . . . but if you don't start talking "
"What's my favorite flavor of Jell-O?"
"Blue . . ." he answered.
"How do I drink my coffee?"
"Same as me. Black, two sugars. I'm wearing off on you," he added with a smirk.
If anything, her eyes darkened. "What's my shoe size?"
Jack only had to pause momentarily on that one. "Eight."
She took a step towards him, and Jack felt the temperature rise in the car by ten degrees. "Do I snore?"
His heart was pounding in his chest like a spastic snare drum. "Only when you lay in weird positions, but if I "
Sam stepped closer, until she had to hitch up her chin to keep their gazed connected. Damn surveillance cameras! Damn!
"If you what, Sir?"
"If I tickle you below your ear, you roll over and stop." His fingers itched to reach up and touch the spot he referred to. "And you always roll towards me."
"Always?"
Jack nodded. "Always."
The alarm over their head sounded, and the intercom system chirped before Walter's voice came through the speaker. "This is Sergeant Harriman. Is there a problem in the elevator?"
Jack groaned, and hit the intercom button with the side of his fist. "This is the General. All's fine. Reingaging now."
With another punch of his hand to the STOP button, the elevator lurched into motion again. Sam stood on the other side of the car, her hands behind her back gripping the railing. Her cheeks were flushed and Jack watched her chest rise and fall with her hitched breathing.
Jack was the one to step towards her this time, still mindful to keep the allotted distance between them. He kept thinking of the way she had felt against him, the way he had wanted to kiss her, to finally feel her mouth under his without alien influence or time loops or parallel realities.
"You love double chocolate fudge ice cream, usually over a warm fudge brownie. You're allergic to MSG. Your shampoo is some herbal number that smells like the gardens on P3X 292. You need a minimum of SPF 30 or you'll burn and you prefer Rocky Mountain brand to the one the SGC stocks. Your favorite element is Hydrogen because you like the simplicity of one proton to one electron. You love Tetris and your highest score is 999,999 but that's only because that's as high as it goes. You read romance novels on your palm pilot when you think no one is looking. You have three leather outfits for riding your bike, none of them black. And," he leaned in just a little closer. "You have a preference for Victoria's Secret."
Sam's lids had dropped heavily over her eyes, and the blush in her cheeks had spread down her throat to disappear beneath the collar of her shirt. Her lips parted, and it was nearly Jack's undoing when she ran her tongue over them, leaving a moist sheen behind.
Jack stepped back and cleared his throat. "Did I answer all your questions?"
Sam just nodded. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened on 26 to pick up more passengers. Before they could board, Sam brushed past them, and was gone.
SJXSJXSJXSJXSJXSJXSJXSJXSJXSJX
Sam watched Pete walk away, pulling the SOLD sign down as he passed.
She hung her head, resting it in her hands, and took a deep breath.
God, that had been hard! One of the hardest things she had ever done in her life. To look him in the face, and tell him she couldn't marry him. That it wasn't fair to him . . . she just couldn't be everything to him that he deserved.
Even in the truth, there had been lies. Half-truths. Because to tell him the truth would have been cruel, and there was no need for cruelty.
I care for you, Pete. But you will never compare to the man I really love. And I may never have him in my life, but it's better for me not to have anyone than to try and settle.
No, that would have been far too cruel.
Sam stood slowly, and took one last look back at the house Pete Shanahan had bought for her.
Then she walked to her car and got in.
If ending the engagement to Pete had been hard . . . this next step was even harder.
But, she was ready.
She was finally ready.
Sam turned the key, and pulled into the street.
