A/N: I can always tell when the story is falling flat, because the reviews slow to the level of rush hour traffic past O'Hare. I know – I've got you all thoroughly depressed with the idea of Sam and Jack going home and pretending none of their romance ever happened. All I can say is…

Ye of little faith! When has anything for SG-1 ever been easy? You really think I don't have a good twist or two in store? I do have a weakness for gut-wrenching angst, but only because it highlights the sappy romantic parts so darn well! C'mon, hang in there with me! I promise that this story will not only make you feel all warm and fuzzy, but it will also prompt you to read my other work in progress – Path from Yesterday. I've envisioned these as a trilogy, and when they're done, I'll be moving to fluffier material for a while.

Anyhow, THANK YOU SO MUCH to all who voted in the SJFAs (Sam/Jack Fanfiction Awards) – Thanks to your awesome support, Reap What Is Sown (my first fanfic ever!) took second place in the outstanding romance category! I'm so honored! You are the BEST readers anywhere!

Chapter 14

Midday sunlight glinted off Sam's brilliant blond hair, making a vague, intermittent halo materialize just above her head. Jack grinned dryly as the observation struck him. Carter might be appearing very angelic today, but his thoughts were definitely veering toward the other end of the spiritual purity scale.

Since his decision to investigate their means home, things had been decidedly strained between the two of them. Sam had never come out and objected to his decision, but he could feel her disappointment keenly. He wasn't entirely sure what was prompting him to examine their escape routes – certainly, he wasn't interested in leaving his present situation – but he couldn't get past the niggling feeling that he needed to look for a way home. And since he was having a hard time explaining the feeling to himself, he hadn't bothered trying to explain it to Sam.

Watching her perfectly rounded bottom sway gently as she walked ahead of him, Jack was beginning to ponder the wisdom of that decision. He didn't doubt his desire to seek an exit – that instinct he was sure of – but he was beginning to think he might have been better served by sharing his gut feeling with his sexy-as-hell second-in-command.

Taking a deep breath, Jack decided that he might as well take the plunge and try communicating. As if hearing his intention to speak, Sam stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity to air his thoughts.

"Sam," he said instantly, before the impulse left him, "I think we should–"

At that moment, Sam bent down to tie her shoe. Obviously, the undone laces were the cause of her abrupt halt. However, it wasn't discovery of Sam's motives that make Jack trail off mid-sentence. It was the view of her gently curved backside straining against her fatigues which stopped him short.

Upon hearing his clipped statement, Sam's head snapped upright. With a guarded expression, she looked at him, waiting for him to complete his thought. "You think we should what?" Her voice was carefully neutral.

Jack took a deep breath. A few dozen endings to his sentence were now dancing through his brain, but none of them were really an appropriate lead-in to the serious conversation he'd originally planned. It took a Herculean force of will to keep from blurting out all the interesting activities that he'd suddenly envisioned. After all, he really did think they should be doing most of them. Immediately.

Shoving those thoughts from his head, Jack swallowed and concentrated on the matter at hand. "Talk." He met her wary gaze head-on. "I think we should talk."

Looking more than a bit surprised, she examined him suspiciously. "You think we should talk?" Clearly, she wasn't sure she believed this. "Is that a metaphor for something else? Or do you really feel like exchanging actual words with me?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, now. I'll admit I'm not much of a talker, but I do know how to have an honest-to-goodness, real, serious conversation. Besides," he added, "when have I ever used a metaphor?"

Sam smirked. "Good point." Then, as his words sank in, she seemed to withdraw. When she spoke, her voice was clearly reserved. "What, exactly, did you want to talk about?"

As he watched her defenses go up, he repressed a sigh. How had things deteriorated so quickly? He understood that she was already trying to protect herself from the pain that would inevitably accompany their departure from this world, but he still hated to feel the distance between them. It was a waste of precious moments that could have been spent together. In any event, he knew of only one way to tear down the wall between them. To that end, he boldly forged ahead. "First of all, you should know that I'm not in any hurry to get back to Earth, Sam."

She shrugged dispassionately. "Yes, I know. You've already told me that."

This time he did sigh. "And yet, I can tell you don't believe me." Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Jack abruptly sat down beside her. Looking her squarely in the eye, he silently begged her to hear him out. "Sam, I can't tell you exactly what's pushing me to check our exits. There's no good, rational explanation for it. All I can tell you is that something about this place is bugging me, and I can't ignore the feeling any longer." He winced slightly. "In truth, I'm a little worried that I've ignored it this long. I hate the thought that I may have endangered your safety because I was too wrapped up in personal feelings." A muscle in his jaw jumped as he continued, clearly illustrating the tension he was experiencing. "No matter what else is going on here, I cannot forget that I'm still a soldier in charge of looking out for my men." Then, suddenly hearing his absurd reference to Sam as 'his men,' Jack broke into a grin. "Guess I probably should have phrased that differently, huh?"

Sam's blue eyes instantly warmed with affection. "Yeah. Something a bit more gender-neutral might have been better." She returned his grin with one of her own. Then, growing serious, she reached over and ran a hand along his jaw. "Jack, I'm sorry. I really didn't understand why you were so anxious to return to reality." Her features took on an expression of guilty remorse. "But when you put it that way…" she trailed off. "I've been working with you long enough to trust you completely. Your instincts are almost supernatural. I'd never stop you from going with a gut feeling." Looking him in the eye, she spoke with quiet intensity. "More than that, I'm ashamed that I questioned your motives. You are a remarkable CO, sir. I can't believe I lost sight of that, even for a moment."

He felt something inside his chest slowly relax. Her words were a balm to his soul. Reaching up, he softly grasped her hand and drew it to his mouth. Placing a gentle kiss on the tips of her fingers, he looked warmly into her crystal blue gaze. "It's not your fault, Sam." Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage for what he knew he needed to do next. "You weren't doubting my motives as a CO, Sam. You were just worried about the more personal ones. And you had every reason to doubt them, because I never gave you a reason to trust me."

Sam held up a hand in objection. "That's ridiculous. You've given me hundreds of reasons to trust you." She shook her head. "I don't think you've ever let me down in all the years I've known you. Not once."

He looked into her eyes for a long moment. "Maybe I've never let you down as a CO or as a friend," he said solemnly. "But I think I did let you down when it mattered most." Swallowing nervously, he seemed to search for words. "If you doubted me, Sam, it was because I didn't make myself clear on a very important point." He glanced at the ground for a moment, pulling his scattered thoughts together. Then, resolutely looking back up, he startled her with the intense gleam in his eyes. "Samantha, I love you. I have for years. And nothing is going to change that. Not the Air Force. Not the president. Not the end of the universe as we know it. Nothing, Sam. You don't need to worry that I'm going to change my mind about us. I won't. Ever."

Blinking away the tears that had just sprung up in her eyes, Sam smiled at him brilliantly. "You'd better not," she whispered softly, "because I don't think I could live without you."

He gazed steadily into her watery expression. "You won't have to. I have no idea how or when, but I promise that we'll figure out a way to make this work. I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Carter."

She wiped her eyes and laughed happily. "Then I guess it's a good thing we've got all those condoms, hey?"

Jack grinned wickedly. "Speaking of which, I've now decided that we're officially done talking. We are now going to spend some time not talking."

Sam smiled back at him. "Sounds good to me," she murmured as his lips crashed over hers.

True to his word, it was a long time before either of them spoke again.