Disclaimer, author's notes etc in Chapter One.
Breaking Point – Chapter Two
"Carter."
I wake up from the slight doze I have dropped into. I seem to have snuggled up against him. My left arm and leg are slung over his body possessively and my head is resting on his chest.
"Carter."
"My name is Sam." I reprimand gently. I always thought it'd be me that had issues calling him by his first name, not the other way around. Seems I was wrong.
He is silent for a moment. Then, "Carter… not that I don't think this is nice, but…"
I sigh. "What?"
"What are you doin'?"
"And here I thought you were a man of the world."
He sighs, exasperated. "Fine. Why are you doin' what you're doin'?"
"Because."
"Uh huh. Because. That's all?"
"Yep."
"Carter…" He says again.
'Oh god, he's almost whining now.' I think. Aloud I say, "That's it."
"What?" He sounds slightly scared.
"I'm calling General Hammond."
"You agreed to sleep on it."
"You keep calling me Carter." I complain.
"Because in the morning, we're gonna wake up and you're gonna freak and start with the 'General' and the 'sir' thing." He says.
Even though I'm still sleepy I detect a note of regret in his voice. Some of me starts to heal.
"No, in the morning I was going to call General Hammond and resign. But I'm going to go and do it now."
"Don't."
"Why?"
"I'll retire."
"You'd be bored."
He is silent for a moment, as if thinking over what he'd do with a third retirement. "Good point."
"Besides Hammond and the Pentagon agree that you're essential to the program."
"How d'you know that?"
"General Hammond told me."
"Oh."
"Like I said, I can stay with the program as a civilian."
"Who else is gonna keep Daniel and Teal'c in line for me?"
"You'll find someone."
"I'll find someone?" He twists slightly to look down at me.
"I have every confidence in you."
He snorts his amusement at that. Then he is silent for a long moment.
"Don't you want this?" I ask, cursing myself for suddenly feeling so afraid and showing it.
"Carter." He says, his tone indicating that he feels he shouldn't have to say it.
I move away from him and sit up. "Jack?"
"What?" He sits up too, leaning against the headboard of the bed.
"I need to know if you want this, or not."
"How can you ask me that?"
"You've never said." I point out.
"What about the whole… zanex thing?" He counters, after fishing for the word a moment.
"That was four years ago, Jack. And you haven't said anything since."
"You were the one that wanted to leave it in the room, Carter."
"Sam." I reiterate. "And you agreed."
"What else was I supposed to do?"
"I still need to hear it."
"Hear what?"
"What you want." I say, ignoring his blatant baiting.
"Why? You were the one that got engaged to someone else." It's a low blow, and he acknowledges this with a slight wince as he hears his own words. I suspect he didn't mean to say that.
Nevertheless, his words hurt, they make me angry. My anger combines with my brokenness and causes me to let slip something I didn't intend. "Because I was afraid!"
He stares at me for a moment, mouth slightly open.
His silence, as always, provokes me into explanation. "I was afraid you didn't… care." I say, stressing the word that means so much more than it should. "That I was holding on to you for the wrong reasons. Afraid because you make me feel too much and not think enough. I was afraid because-"
He is kissing me.
And there it is.
The reason I was afraid.
Feeling too much.
It's too much.
He's too much.
And suddenly it's all there again.
The gut-wrenching grief and guilt over the last mission.
The feeling of suffocation born of my rushing into an 'us' with Pete.
The deep-rooted fear that Pete would never be enough.
Could never be enough.
And the feelings that go back almost eight years.
The anger at him.
The frustration with him.
The fear of him. For him.
The trust in him.
The need for him.
The pain and subsequent brokenness from trying to live without him.
From trying to replace him.
He begins to pull away from me.
A muffled moan of loss escapes my lips and I grab the back of his head, pulling him back to me.
After what seems like all too short a time he pulls away again, and does not allow me to pull him back.
I am utterly speechless. Instead of feeling broken I now feel light headed, and I just know that the goofiest grin ever is at this very moment gracing my face.
"Better?" He asks his voice low and husky.
I nod mutely and reach for him again.
"No." He says. I look at him, confusion and hurt evident in my features. "This doesn't solve anything." He explains. "This just makes things even more difficult."
I drag the coverlet up and pull it around my shoulders, shrouding myself in it.
He shivers in the cold air of the bedroom.
I can feel myself breaking into a thousand pieces all over again. "You're cruel." I tell him.
"I'm not cruel, just a realist."
"Since when?"
"Since always, Colonel." He tells me.
"Don't call me that. You call me Sam, or Doctor. Not Colonel. I resigned."
"I can't do that." He says his voice unexpectedly quiet.
"Why not?"
He sighs. "Because this isn't real." He says, covering his face with his hands.
"What?" I exclaim, thrown by his explanation.
"This isn't real. In the morning we're gonna wake up and nothing will have changed, 'cept we'll feel a whole helluva lot worse."
"Why?" My voice is small.
"Why what?" He asks through his fingers.
"Why won't you even consider this? Are you so afraid that it might actually work?"
"Yes! No! I don't know!" He sounds uncharacteristically flustered. "Crap, Carter." He says, his voice muffled by his hands.
"I love you, Jack." I say softly, playing my ace.
It seems to take a moment for what I've said to filter through. When it finally does, one of his pinkie fingers moves to one side to reveal one eye looking at me curiously.
I know its coming. It always does when he knows perfectly well what's going on, but wants to put off dealing with it for just a few extra seconds.
Here it comes, folks, the ever-present-
"What?" He asks.
"I. Love. You." I say, finding it no easier to say the second time around. Probably due to the fact that he hasn't actually reacted yet.
When he uncovers his face he's smiling. No, scratch that. He's grinning. "Really?" He asks.
I just look at him.
"Oh! Right." He says, managing to wipe the grin from his features.
He says nothing.
For a long time.
I decide to go for broke. "Jack?"
"Samantha?" He asks. He's playing with me now, his seriousness of a moment ago forgotten.
"Jonathan?"
"Ah!" He holds up an index finger in a familiar gesture. "Less of the long name," he seems to remember calling me Samantha, which prompts him to add, "Sam."
I glare at him.
"What?" He asks, feigning ignorance.
"I need to know, Jack." I tell him, my brokenness and insecurity returning in full force.
"I love you."
I hadn't expected him to just say it. He catches me off guard and I stutter slightly. "Oh!" I say, tears beginning to form again. 'Dammit!'
"You thought differently?" He asks softly.
"You keep pushing me away. I resigned and you still keep pushing me away."
He looks at me for what seems like an eternity. Just looks at me. Studying me like I would study some piece of alien technology.
When he does finally speak his voice is soft. "I'm scared, Sam."
I look at him, totally speechless. He squirms under my scrutiny.
"Why?"
He thinks before answering. "Lots of reasons. There was the whole… Pete thing."
I wince and open my mouth to speak, but he waves me into silence.
"I mean, the fact that it took that last mission to bring us to this point does not suggest good things to me." He pauses, and I sense him regrouping, pulling himself together. "And there is the fact that the world might end." He adds, smiling slightly.
As he probably planned, I am completely flummoxed by his last reason. "What?" I ask.
"What what?"
"Why would the world end?"
"Did in all the other realities." He points out.
I think for a moment, not taking my eyes off him, knowing he hates to be watched.
"Okay," I say at last, "First of all, the whole Pete thing happened because I was scared, and I explained it earlier."
"I got it," he says, motioning for me to continue.
"Secondly, the mission just made me realise that I couldn't stand to lose you like that, Jack. I couldn't stand to lose you and know that we never tried this. That we just pretended it wasn't there."
He nods.
"And thirdly. The world is not going to end. I won't let it." He smiles at that. I return the smile and say, "Anything else?"
"I let you know in the morning." He says, sliding back downwards on the mattress and trying to yank the coverlet from my grip.
He only succeeds in pulling both me and the coverlet on top of himself. It takes him a moment to realise that I'm not going to move.
"Uh… Carter?"
"You were being deliberately cruel." I tell him.
"How?" He asks, the question of whether or not I'll stop crushing him momentarily forgotten.
"Do you know how hard it was for me to say what I just said?"
"Yep." He says flippantly. Damn him! He's grinning again.
"Why?" I ask, fixing him with a meaningful look.
"Because just saying it doesn't fix anything. We're still stuck with the way things are."
I look down at my body pressing down onto his. "I like the way things are." I tell him suggestively. I am enjoying this new freedom granted by my brokenness, but, truth be told, I would have thought that he would have caved long before now.
"Don't." He moans, his eyes closing.
"Why not?"
"Because we can't." He tells me.
"Yes we can. Haven't you worked that out yet, Jack? There is no way I am continuing with a life where we can't do this. There's no point." He still steadfastly refuses to open his eyes. "Hasn't it occurred to you that any time you send me through that gate, I might not come back?" I ask him softly.
His eyes snap open, and I gasp at what I see. In his eyes I can see his own brokenness lurking. I wonder how long he has lived with it silently.
"Jack…" I say softly.
"It's occurred to me." He says. "But this," he gestures between us, "This has always been your call, Sam."
"Then why fight me tonight?" I ask him.
"Because I would rather not have you at all, than have you and lose you."
I am surprised and moved by this eloquence coming from a man who would claim he is anything but articulate.
When I am able to speak my voice is husky. "Trust me to know what I want, Jack. Its taken me long enough to figure it out."
He regards me for an immeasurable length of time, and I am afraid again. Afraid at the intensity of his gaze, at the fact that I cannot read him, cannot tell what he is thinking.
Then his hands come up and pull my head down towards his. Just before our lips meet he says, "This is a bad idea."
My retort is smothered by his mouth. As his lips move down my neck I manage to say – gasp – "What happened to being scared?"
"I was never very good at it." He murmurs against my throat, making me shiver and giggle softly.
"No giggling, doctor." He reminds me.
"Jack…"
He sighs against my collarbone, making me shiver again. "What?"
"Too many clothes."
I feel him grin against my skin. Then his hands travel down my back to the bottom of the t-shirt I'm wearing and pulls it off, then he reaches behind me and deftly unsnaps my bra. I'm now wearing just my panties and I'm feeling more than a little self-conscious.
"Jack…"
Suddenly he rolls us both, ending up with him on top of me. He pushes himself up on his arms and surveys my body. I feel myself blush under his intense scrutiny.
His eyes are dark, the look on his face feral. I remember seeing this in him when we were infected with the 'caveman' virus almost eight years ago.
This time he does not try to control it. Does not even attempt to stop himself staring at me.
I decide to take matters into my own hands, literally. I slide my hands over the material of his t-shirt, finding the hem and pulling it upwards.
When he gets the message he begins to help me, shrugging out of the t-shirt.
"Now we're even." I say, amazed at my own breathlessness as I look him over.
He grins at me, and begins his delectable torture of my neck again.
"You know," I manage, between gasps, "I'm beginning to wish we'd done this a lot sooner."
I feel him smile against my skin. Then he gently bites at my neck, making me gasp louder.
"Jack!"
"Thinking too much." He complains.
I nod and let my hands gently roam down his sides to the waistband of his boxer shorts.
His ever-questing mouth has found my breasts now, his activity there making it harder and harder for me to control my vocal appreciation of him.
I finally manage to get him out of his underwear, not that he is much help in my endeavour. He can be a very distracting man sometimes, especially when his hands are doing… what they're doing.
My panties are not exactly a real barrier, and they magically disappear a split second after his boxer shorts.
I can't take it. I can't wait anymore.
"Jack… now." I order him.
He looks at me, as if he still can't believe this is happening. I know how he feels; I'm having the same problem.
Tonight I've gone from being so broken that I didn't care what happened next, to knowing that if he's not inside me right now I might just die.
"Jack…" I moan softly.
He looks up and me and smiles. Then he shakes his head.
He is stretched full length along my body, propping himself up on his left elbow.
He begins to idly slide his right hand down the length of my body. Between my breasts, over the slight curve of my stomach that I don't seem to be able to eradicate, no matter how many crunches I do.
His hand continues on its journey, his surprisingly light touch making me shiver. He just smiles and skims his hand over my lower belly.
Now my whole body tenses in anticipation of his next move. I look at his face, but he doesn't meet my gaze, his eyes intent on his hand's location.
As his fingers slide between my thighs I gasp, eliciting a slight smile from him.
I glare at him, "You're enjoying this too much, flyboy."
"Shh."
As he continues his torture my own hands begin to get restless.
As he begins to nuzzle my throat again, my hand reaches its goal.
"Crap, Carter!" He hisses against my neck, making me giggle outright this time.
Suddenly his hand stops and slides back up my body to being playing with my nipple. I can smell myself on his fingers and it's driving me crazy. "Jack…" I never thought I'd hear myself begging him, but I am. Complete surrender. That's what I came here for.
My left hand settles on his hip, begins pulling him towards me.
He seems to get the message – at last – and settles himself firmly between my thighs, making me gasp at the feel of him.
He bends his head to kiss me and just as his lips contact mine, he thrusts into me. My tiny scream is smothered by his mouth.
He is not exactly a small man, and it takes a moment for me to adjust to his size.
For a long moment I hold his gaze. Both of us are breathing hard, and the fingers of my left hand have somehow become interlaced with those of his right.
Then he begins to move.
I find that I can't think. I can only feel as he strokes in and out of me.
My breath is catching in my throat and my back is arching upwards, so that my breasts rub against his chest.
He growls deep in his throat, his mouth lowering to my nipple. Sucking, licking, biting.
He thrusts particularly hard, making me gasp.
He looks up at me. His pupils are dilated so far that his eyes are almost black. "You okay?" His voice is deliciously hoarse and I feel my body tremble in response.
I grab his head and pull it down to meet mine, kissing him fiercely.
He reaches down and catches my right leg behind the knee and pulls my leg upwards. He does the same with my left, giving himself greater access to me.
The depth of penetration is almost too much. My eyes want to roll back in my head.
I can feel my inner muscles begin to contract around him. I can tell he feels it too, his eyes immediately snap to mine.
I feel vindicated in my choice to come here tonight. Jack is intimately in tune with my body in a way that no other man has ever been.
His mouth has returned to my neck, his right hand slides between our bodies, long fingers unerringly finding my clit.
I have never been one of those women who moans her lover's name incessantly, as if she cannot say anything else. But he makes me one. I've never been one of those women who comes so hard she is left shaking, almost crying in the aftermath. But he's changing that now.
"Jack… Jack… Oh God, Jack! Don't stop. Please!"
My eyes close and I throw my head back.
"Sam. Look at me." It's an order. The part of my brain that's responded to his orders for eight years complies.
Just as my eyes meet his my orgasm explodes within me, around him.
And I don't believe it. I'm screaming. It began as his name, but now I'm just screaming.
It seems like an eternity before I'm able to enjoy a semblance of coherent thought. Somewhat coherent anyway.
Jack is smirking at me. "Jesus you're beautiful, Samantha." He murmurs.
I reach up and grab his head again, kissing him harder than before. My fingers lace through his short, unruly hair, my nails scratch down the back of his neck.
"Jesus, Sam!" He hisses.
I seem to have regained some control over the lower half of my body and I bring my hips up to meet his.
His thrusts have become less controlled now. His breathing more and more erratic.
I grin at the effect I'm having on him.
I kiss him again, my tongue thrusting into his mouth, just as he thrusts into me and I feel him come.
He buries his face in my throat, a primal sound tearing from deep in his chest.
He is lying on top of me. Heavy and sated. I am too weak to object to being crushed, and besides, it's kind of nice.
"You okay?" His voice is low and rumbles through his chest. I can feel it against my own.
He rolls off me and out of me, I almost moan at the loss. Almost. I'm still determined not to be one of those women.
"Sam? You okay?"
I realise I haven't answered him and look up at him smiling brightly.
"Better than okay. So much better than okay." I tell him, making him smile in response.
I rest my head on his shoulder. He curls his arm around me. We fall asleep like that, entwined in one another.
11
