A/N: As always, I've been totally overwhelmed by your enthusiastic response to this story. It's quite motivational! Not only that, I think a few of you are occupying the same brainwave as I am, because I've read comments and suggestions in your feedback that were already swimming around in my head. Hope that doesn't mean I'm becoming boring and predictable!

Anyway, chapter eight (how can I already be writing CHAPTER EIGHT??) turned out pretty… um, volcanic. Guess I'll warn you again – if you're not into R-rated romance, you'll probably want to forgo this next part. But, for all you (to quote Janet in Hathor) libidinous folks, hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 8

Marching back into camp, Sam squared her shoulders. She could do this. Really, she could. She'd just walk up to him, look him in the eye and tell him that they absolutely could not take their relationship any further. It was a foolish risk to their careers, and, more importantly, to the cohesiveness of SG-1. She would not endanger their long-term goals – which often included saving the entire planet – to have a brief, inevitably-heartbreaking fling with her CO.

Jack was crouched beside his pack, rifling through its contents. Apparently, he was taking inventory of their supplies, most likely trying to decide how best to ration them. Squelching a feeling of nervousness, she resolutely marched up behind him. Then, taking a deep breath, Sam held her head high and readied her nerves. "Sir," she said sharply.

He must have heard her approaching, because he didn't even turn around. "What's up, Carter?" His voice sounded almost bored.

"Sir, I think we need to talk." She was impressed with the steel behind her words.

Evidently, Jack had heard it too, because his head lifted in surprise. Still, he didn't turn around to face her. "What about, Major?"

Sam cringed at his use of her rank. She hadn't been 'Major' in days. Still, she was determined to get this over with. "With respect, sir, I think we need to talk about the situation between us."

Sam couldn't see it, but Jack was actually stifling a grin. He'd known this was coming from the moment they'd first kissed in their rain-soaked tent. In truth, he was a little surprised that it had taken this long. Sam was cautious by nature, and breaking the rules was not something she took lightly. However, he knew these things about her almost as well as he knew himself. He'd long been expecting some sort of resistance from his lovely second-in-command. So, he'd formulated a strategy. His tactical training had prepared him for battle, and he'd had his response planned for days. Forcing the smile from his voice, he spoke grimly. "What's there to talk about?"

She exhaled loudly. "Well, there's the fact that we're endangering both our careers and our mission by blatantly disregarding the fraternization rules. And, of course, there's the whole muddle of what we're going to say to Daniel and Teal'c when we get back. Because, frankly…"

As she'd been speaking, Jack had slowly stood up and turned to face her. Through her whole explanation, he hadn't said a word. He hadn't needed to. He'd simply directed his dark, intense eyes deep into her nervous stare. The result was exactly what he'd imagined it would be. She'd slowly absorbed his penetrating look and finally ground to a halt.

Sam felt her heart slamming against the inside of her rib cage like a hummingbird on steroids. This had been so much easier when he'd been turned away. Now, however, when faced with those striking, familiar brown eyes, she found every ounce of her resolve slowly fading into oblivion. Swallowing, she tried to formulate a new thought, but nothing would come. So, instead, she stood rooted to the ground, desperately trying to tear her gaze away from him.

Jack had to use every ounce of willpower in his body to keep a satisfied grin from spreading over his features. He'd been a fisherman long enough to know when he'd hooked his quarry. However, one false step at this point would either scare her away or piss her off, so he forced himself to reel her in carefully. Schooling his features into an expression of self-assured calm, he spoke in measured tones. "Carter, you can run away from this thing if you want. I just don't see that it's going to do much good." He spoke with an easy confidence, never letting his eyes leave hers. "You want it too much. Fact is, you didn't know just how much you wanted it until you had a taste of it. Now you can't go back." His gaze was mesmerizing, holding her as securely as a set of steel rivets. "I want it too, Sam. And I'm not going to pretend otherwise. If we were back home, we could bury ourselves in work and avoid it, pretty much the way we've always done. But we aren't at home. We're stranded here, alone, with nothing but Danny's box of condoms for company." She flushed slightly, but he continued without pausing. "Carter, if you want to pretend you can fight this thing, go ahead and try. But then, when you finally give in, it'll feel like you're losing the battle, not winning it." He shrugged. "Guess I prefer winning."

Oh boy. Sam felt his steady, unfazed stare clear to the soles of her feet. What had she been thinking? Had she really believed she could march up to Jack O'Neill, special ops soldier and embodiment of her heart's every desire, and turn him down? Well, if she had believed it, she'd been seriously deluded. Because all she wanted to do right now was jump his bones.

He was seriously sexy when he was laying it all on the line.

Jack waited to see if she was going to regroup and try resisting again. The soft, subdued expression on her face convinced him that she was done rebelling against her feelings.

He felt a wave of affection wash over him unexpectedly. She was a soldier, and her honest struggle to do the right thing tugged sharply on his heart-strings. He, too, felt a good deal of apprehension about their situation. And, like her, he honestly didn't know if they were making the right choices. He did, however, know two things: First of all, it was useless to try avoiding each other. He'd spoken the truth when he'd said it was futile to run away from their feelings here on this isolated planet. But, secondly, and perhaps just as important, was the knowledge that of he didn't act on these incredibly strong feelings, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. It might be a mistake, but in his mind, it was definitely one worth making. And he knew Sam felt the same way underneath her fear.

Smiling gently, he leaned over and brushed a single, soft kiss on her lips. "So, I'll see you at our hot spring tonight?"

Suddenly, Sam pulled back slightly and blinked. "Actually, sir, that's probably not a good idea."

Jack stifled a sigh. Unable to keep the impatience from his voice, he speared her with another piercing stare. "Carter, I though we just went over this. Do you really-"

She raised a hand to his lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. "The hot spring, Jack. That's what isn't a good idea. I think we're far enough away from the volcano to be safe, but if the magma beneath Mount Doom shifts unexpectedly we could find ourselves cooking instead of bathing. We might be better off waiting for the eruption before we get into that pool."

He blinked at her. "Oh. Okay." Then, smiling, he gently nibbled on the tips of her fingers. "So, we've still got a date?"

She nodded, staring at his chest. "New venue, but yes, we've still got a date."

Jack saw the uncertainty in her stance. Gently, he reached over and tilted her face up until she was looking directly into his gaze. "Sam, if you're really not sure about this, we can wait. I'm not trying to push you-"

Sam cut him off. "I know you're not. And really, I am sure. I'm just worried about the consequences."

He nodded, looking rather serious himself. "Me too. But whatever they are, Sam, I'll be there accepting them right along side you."

She smiled. "I know you will. And that's why I'm sure about tonight."

Returning her smile, he leaned forward, capturing her lips in a warm, sweet, sensual kiss that left her tingling to the roots of her hair. In an instant, her arms snaked around his chest, relishing the feel of his smooth, muscular back through the warm cotton of his t-shirt. Without thinking, she automatically yanked it from his waistband and slid her hands beneath the fabric so that she could caress his bare skin.

Jack issued a noise that sounded remarkably like a growl, deep in the back of his throat. Before either of them could formulate a thought, they were sinking to their knees, frantically tugging on clothing while they melted into a blazingly hot kiss.

In a flurry of sizzling caresses, Sam felt her shirt being pulled over her head. She allowed their lips to part just long enough for the garment to be removed, then she instantly swooped back to meet his fierce embrace. Feeling his tongue tangle deliciously against hers, she whimpered softly.

Jack's hands roamed her torso purposefully. He stroked the smooth skin of her back, from the bottom of her tank-bra to the top of her fatigues. Sam couldn't suppress a tiny moan when one of his greedy hands wandered back between their bodies, gently caressing the bottom of her rounded breast. His thumb slid beneath the soft elastic, when he suddenly paused, pulling his face away from hers.

She blinked up at him in a haze. Though his hand was still snugly nestled beneath her bra, he was looking at her with an unreadable expression. "What?" she whispered anxiously.

Without a word, Jack's hand shifted, and in a moment, he pulled it out from beneath her stretchy tank top and held it up. In his grasp was a small tube of zinc oxide ointment.

Instantly, Sam turned a lovely shade of crimson. "Whoops. I forgot about that," she mumbled with an embarrassed chuckle. "I usually stash it there because it's easy to keep track of. When I put it in my pocket, it seems to fall out and get lost." Shrugging, she met his amused gaze. "I like to have sunblock handy when I'm offworld."

Jack just grinned. "If I'd known you'd been carrying it there all these years, I might have asked to borrow it more often."

She laughed, enjoying the easy camaraderie between them. Then, seeing his eyes darken with passion once again, she closed her eyes and let herself be carried away on a wave of heat. The sensation of his skin against hers was delightfully right. She sighed with wild abandon. His earlier words now made absolute sense to her. She couldn't fight this attraction, and she couldn't make herself believe that this glorious surrender was in any way a defeat. It was, in a word, perfection.

Jack's hand once again slid under her top, this time gently kneading the supple flesh hidden there. Sam gasped as tiny spirals of pleasure wound their way through all the dark, unmentionable parts of her body, feeding flames that were already starting to burn out of control. Unwilling to be a stationary bystander to the events unfolding between them, she restlessly began doing some exploring of her own. She roughly yanked on Jack's t-shirt, smiling at the satisfied noise he issued as he realized her intent. He reluctantly pulled his hands and mouth away, allowing her to roughly remove the shirt. The interruption was very temporary, however, as he immediately and enthusiastically returned to his erotic pursuit.

Not about to be outdone, Sam forged ahead to new and yet-unknown horizons. Her eager hands traveled down his stomach until they strayed into deliciously forbidden territory. With the lightest of touches, she boldly ran her fingers over the rigid evidence of his blatant attraction to her. Daringly, she continued to investigate her fascinating discovery, delighted by the sharp hiss of pleasure she drew from him at every touch.

She had just undone the button on his fatigues when, with remarkable predictability, the radios clipped to both of their belts crackled to life.

"Jack? Sam? It's Daniel. How are things going there?"

Jack's hands stilled immediately, but Sam could feel tremors in his upper body. When she pulled back to examine his face, she expected to see anger or frustration. Much to her surprise, however, he was totally overcome with giddy, resigned laughter. As their gazes met and locked, Sam, too, felt giggles rise in her throat. The entire situation was almost too ridiculous for words.

Racked with peals of amusement, Jack fumbled for the radio at his side. In a few moments, he was finally able to bring it to his lips. "We're fine, Daniel." His words were strangled, forced out between irresistible spasms of hilarity. "I was just helping Carter find her sunscreen."

At that, Sam doubled over, mirthful tears streaming down her cheeks. The tension between them had been so relentlessly nerve-racking that this latest interruption was almost too much to bear. Since the pressure clearly wasn't going to be relieved in a more satisfying way, this uncontrolled bout of laughter was going to have to suffice.

Daniel obviously had heard the strained tone to Jack's voice, because there was a lengthy pause before the radio sounded again. "I hope you weren't… busy. I just thought it might be nice to check in during daylight hours. We figured you'd be recovering over the next few days, since you had such a hike to your new camp. How are your knees?"

His knees were, quite frankly, the last part of his body on his mind right now, but he couldn't very well announce it. Forcing past the last of his chuckles, he tried to speak evenly. "They feel pretty good today, actually."

"That's great," Daniel said, clearly happy to hear it. "Just try to take it easy for a while." Then, shifting to a more important topic, Daniel's voice grew serious. "So, have Sam's seismometers picked up anything today?"

Hearing her name, Sam, too, reigned in her wild amusement. Pulling her radio from its belt-clip, she cleared her throat and spoke in what she hoped was a calm manner. "Hey, Daniel." Satisfied that she wasn't going to dissolve back into helpless giggles, she forged ahead. "Actually, it's pretty quiet up there today. I did find a geothermal spring off one of the streams near our camp, but I can't tell if it's part of the same magma-vault that feeds the volcano or not."

Daniel seemed to absorb that information. "You might want to steer clear of it until you know for sure. Is there another source of water?"

"Yes," Sam replied quickly. "There seem to be two separate rivers, and only one of them runs near a vent."

"Good," Daniel sounded satisfied with her information. "Well, just try to stay safe until the eruption. I can't imagine how-"

The voice on the radio was suddenly drowned out by a deep, earth-shaking rumble. For a moment, Sam and Jack felt the ground below them tremble violently before a deafening roar sent them both dropping to the earth reflexively. A massive wave of noise crashed over their bodies, thundering as if an entire truckload of dynamite was being set off at once.

Without conscious thought, Jack yanked Sam up against him and did his best to cover her body with his. The rumbling seemed to go on for an eternity – though, in truth, it couldn't have been much longer than half a minute. When it finally subsided, leaving a fuzzy ringing in his ears, Jack began taking stock of his surroundings.

He supposed Sam must have been correct in her predictions for the direction of the blast, because they were thankfully not burned to cinders nor covered in volcanic ash. Cautiously, he lifted his head, making sure there was no immediate danger. In a moment, he shifted his weight from Sam's body; fairly certain that he no longer needed to shield her.

Once she was no longer pinned by Jack's strong grasp, Sam, too, began to look around. The sight before her was unlike anything she'd ever witnessed. Though their camp remained blissfully untouched, she was dazed by the scene appearing to the north. An enormous plume of sinister-looking dust and ash was billowing up from the volcano. It was hard to tell conclusively from here, but by the angle and size of the debris cloud, Sam guessed that the blast had been nearly as lateral as the one which had taken out Mount St. Helens. "Holy Hannah," she breathed, clearly awestruck.

Jack lay mutely beside her, taking in the unfolding destruction with a similar mesmerized expression. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself. Picking up his forgotten radio, he brought it to his mouth and spoke slowly. "Daniel? Are you still there?"

Nothing but silence met his question.

"Daniel?" This time it was Sam who tried. "Hello?"

Again, nothing.

Slowly, Sam and Jack both tore their eyes from the picture of devastation in front of them and turned to meet each other's gazes.

Putting her thoughts in order, Sam swallowed anxiously. "Looks like we picked a good spot," she said faintly.

Jack glanced around, silently agreeing. "The transmitter must have been knocked out by the blast," he said, gesturing to the now-silent radios. "I guess this means we're on our own now."

Sam nodded. "I guess so." She looked into his eyes, not quite able to hide the raw, instinctive fear she was still recovering from. His gaze was steady and warm; comforting her in ways she didn't even understand.

Seeing her tremulous expression, Jack reached over and gently brushed a finger over her cheek. "We're gonna be just fine, Sam." Then, suddenly grinning, he spoke with quiet amusement. "Do you know what I just realized?"

Sam shook her head. "What?" Her voice was still a little wobbly.

Impish delight had spread over Jack's features. "The radios won't work anymore."

For a moment, Sam just stared blankly at him, failing to see the significance of his words. Then, abruptly, she understood.

No radios meant no interruptions.

Sam swallowed reflexively as she realized that a second eruption was just about to take place. And this time, she knew she was sitting squarely in the center of the blast zone.