A/N: Back by popular demand… paperback romance novel sex. If you don't want the naked details, just skip this chapter. Nothing but mush here, I promise.
It's spicy. Consider yourself warned.
And I know he doesn't use the 'national treasure' line until season 7, which hasn't, at this point, happened yet, but we'll all just assume he thought of it here first. Okay? Okay.
Chapter 23
"Holy Hannah," Sam exclaimed breathily, wonderment apparent in her voice. "This is our bathroom?"
Jack stood behind her, also struck dumb with amazement. Just moments earlier, he'd have sworn that nothing short of Armageddon could pull his attention away from the pert, blond miracle walking in front of him. However, that was before he'd actually entered the bathing chamber. "Sure beats the hell out of our locker room at the SGC," he mumbled dryly.
Snorting, Sam shook her head. "I'm not sure we should even make that comparison. It seems almost irreverent."
Jack nodded. "They must take their bathing pretty seriously."
It wasn't lavish décor or opulent accessories that caused Sam and Jack's astonishment. It was the sheer size of the place. Nearly thirty feet in diameter, the bathing chamber resembled a large, circular cavern. Reddish stone walls were buffed to a smooth, glassy sheen, giving the entire area a cozy feeling that offset its enormous dimensions. Most spectacular, however, was the gorgeous method used to light the chamber. Several hundred candles stood in stands and dishes on every flat surface in the room. The result was something out of a fairy tale.
Shimmering in the soft candlelight, the bath itself was situated perfectly in the center of the room. No been less than fifteen feet in diameter, it had elegant steps and benches carved into its perimeter, easily allowing bathers to relax in soothing comfort. And, instead of standard plumbing, the water level and temperature were apparently controlled by another small panel set into the floor.
Pulled by curiosity and amazement, Sam crossed the room and examined the controls. She settled down beside them, kicking off her boots and socks, allowing her feet to dangle in the water. After a few moments experimenting with the many small buttons, a wide grin spread over her face. "I don't think there are any faucets," she said incredulously. "It looks like the water is brought in and out using some sort of teleportation device. It just… materializes."
Jack affectionately noted the wonder in her eyes as he stepped up to the pool across from her. Taking a cue from Sam's actions, he also removed his footwear, testing the water with one toe. "Nice," he said appreciatively. "And no need for drain cleaner." Then, gazing around the rest of the chamber, he began walking around the room's perimeter in an attempt to inspect their surroundings. There were two unexplored doors in the chamber, which he called Sam's attention to. "This one," he said, gesturing to the door on the left, "is a closet. Our packs are already inside. And that one," he said of the other, "leads to the rest of the, er, facilities." Suddenly looking a bit uneasy, he scratched his forehead. "If this whole place is controlled by those little panel do-hickeys, you're going to have to show me how to flush the toilet."
Sam laughed, shaking her head. "Jack, what would you do without me?"
The phrase, which had been intended as an off-hand reference to his ineptitude with technology, slowly turned into something far more serious. As the weary, dirt-and-blood-streaked officers gazed steadily into each others' eyes, the true depth of her words sank in.
"I don't know, Sam." Jack's voice was thick with emotion. "I hope I never have to find out."
Instantly, their exploration of the room ceased. Without a word, they unerringly gravitated toward each other as if drawn by a magnet. When they finally met in front of the steps leading down to the pool, Sam could see that Jack's hands were shaking. "I wish I could erase the pain you went through today," she whispered as she took his trembling hands in her own. Leaning forward, she looked deeply into his coffee-colored eyes. "I love you beyond measure, Jack. As long as I'm breathing, you'll never be without me."
Gently removing one of his hands from her grasp, he reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "I wish that were true, Sam," he said quietly. "But we both know that once we get back to the SGC–"
She interrupted him, tears filling her enormous blue eyes. "No matter what happens, I'll always be with you. I've been with you since the day we first stepped through that gate together. It doesn't really matter what the regulations say we can or can't do. You could be a million miles away from me, and I'd still be with you here," she said, pointing to his heart.
Staring reverently into her eyes, he absorbed the sweet emotions he saw there. "Wise beyond your years," he murmured quietly. Then, pulling her body tightly up against his, he slowly brought their mouths together in the tenderest of caresses.
The raw, aching quality of his kiss was enough to send moisture spilling down Sam's dirt-smudged cheeks. Without words, he told her how utterly, entirely needed she was. He expressed his desperation at losing her and his joy at having her back in his arms. Mostly, though, he conveyed the oceanic depths of his love for her. "My perfect, amazing, Sam," he murmured against her lips. "You're my own, private miracle."
Opening her mouth, Sam drank in the taste of him like a desert flower after a summer rain. "God, I need you," she rasped harshly, running her hands boldly along every muscular contour of his body.
Jack leaned back and let his eyes lazily explore her flushed features. "Well, you can't have me yet," he said with a soft, seductive gleam in his eyes. "First, we're going to get those scratches cleaned up."
"Jack, I'm honestly fine–" her impatient response was immediately cut with a sharp gesture.
"I don't care if you feel good enough to run the Boston Marathon," he said firmly, "After what I went through today, I think I'm entitled to be a little overprotective." Their eyes met, and another mighty wave of feelings crashed down on them.
Unable to argue with that logic, Sam just nodded. He saw the acceptance in her expression and gingerly began unbuttoning her camouflage BDU shirt. In several places, the heavy cotton fabric was torn and ragged, a result of her tangle with the giant canine that nearly killed her – that had killed her, in actuality.
"Thank God you were wearing this instead of your T-shirt," he muttered as he saw the damage done by the creature's claws. They'd opted for the heavy, long-sleeved garments in place of their usual attire since Sam had thought it might prevent scrapes and abrasions on their climb up the cliff. The wounds on her ribcage were not serious because the fabric of her shirt had taken the brunt of the scratching. However, even with the protection that the heavy cotton had afforded her, the five shallow scrapes that ran from the lower, left edge of her sports bra to the last rib on her right side were puffy and oozing blood. Carefully avoiding the cuts, Jack gently pushed the tattered shirt over her shoulders and let it flutter to the ground.
The stark, red marks along her chest seemed to trigger something in his subconscious and, before he realized what he was doing, he found both of his hands gently running down the length of her long, graceful neck. Intensely, he let his fingers trail over every inch of it, devouring the sight of her flawless, unmarked skin with the hunger of a starving man.
At first, Sam didn't really seem to be aware of what he was doing. Then, her basic understanding of animal behavior kicked in and her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, Jack," she whispered, suddenly and painfully aware of what he'd probably witnessed earlier in the day. She knew that hungry wolves went directly for the throats of their victims. It was almost too horrific to consider.
"I thought I'd never touch you like this again," he murmured hoarsely. Still staring at her perfect throat, he suppressed a shudder. "It happened so quickly, I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye," he whispered.
Sam felt a fresh wave of tears fall down her cheeks. The significance of that statement was not lost on her. Though he'd never really spoken of his gut-wrenching grief following Charlie's death, she knew it had to be overwhelming. To lose two people in such a sudden, senseless manner was almost incomprehensible. The lost, haunted look in his eyes tore at her heart. "Jack, if something ever did happen to me–"
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm never letting anything happen to you again," he insisted firmly.
She sighed. "Jack-"
"No." His features took on dark, a stubborn cast.
Gently, she took his chin in her hand and forced him to meet her understanding gaze. "We both know," she whispered, "that life doesn't always give us the choices we want. That's especially true in our line of work. Even if we didn't face the end of the world every other minute, life doesn't come with any guarantees. Either one of us could get hit by a bus tomorrow."
Jack blinked. "I somehow doubt they have busses here."
Rolling her eyes, she ignored his attempt to change the subject and pushed ahead. "All I'm saying is that if something ever happens where one of us doesn't make it back, we'll never have to feel tortured that we didn't express our true feelings," she murmured. "There's no need to say goodbye, Jack. Every moment we've spent together has said more than any final parting words ever could."
Jack closed his eyes, and was unsurprised to feel tears of his own roll down his rugged, dusty cheeks. Nodding mutely, he acknowledged the simple truth in her words.
"As for tonight," she whispered, "I can't wait to show you just how alive I'm feeling." Gracefully, she pulled his face to hers and softly kissed the tears from his cheeks.
"Ah, Sam," he breathed, "I'm pretty sure that fate screwed up when they paired me with someone like you." His words were humble and laced with dry humor. "God knows I'm not nearly good enough to deserve anything this perfect." Opening his eyes, he lovingly took in the sight of her delicate features and smiled. "But I'm not dumb enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. If some higher power thinks I'm supposed to wind up with Samantha Carter, then I'm not arguing."
Sam just shook her head. "You're crazy," she whispered. Unwilling to sit back and be patient any longer, she reached up and finished what she'd started on the cliff by hastily unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm just a geek who's pretty good at fixing stuff. If anyone is getting the better end of this deal, it's me." A seductive smile crept over her face as she slid her hands along his bare chest. "How many braniac astrophysicists ever have a chance at undressing a sexier-than-sin adrenaline junkie with more testosterone than an ESPN convention?"
Upon hearing her heated words, Jack snorted with such force, he actually began choking. "That's how you see me?" he wheezed incredulously, trying to get his coughing fit under control.
Sam scowled. "Yes, that's how I see you," she said defensively.
Clearing his throat, he continued to gape at her. "Well, that explains it," he muttered. "You're completely delusional."
She speared him with a belligerent glare. "I am not delusional. You are so totally one of those manly, GI-Joe guys that all women harbor hidden fantasies about!"
He didn't appear convinced in the least. "But, I'm old!" he sputtered.
Sam shook her head. "Oh no," she said with a suggestive smile. "You can't use that line on me anymore. The only parts of you that don't always work as well as they're supposed to are your knees, and trust me when I say that they're not the parts of you which interest me, Colonel."
Jack's jaw dropped. "Yeah, but-"
Unwilling to listen, she forged ahead briskly. "I know what I'm talking about, Jack," she said confidently, "Women think you're hot." She began tracing little lines around his dog tags, delighting in the shivers it evoked in him. "Very hot." She placed a soft kiss just below his Adam's apple and smiled at the tension which infused his body. "Women definitely want you – and they've never seen you single-handedly defeat a battalion of Jaffa warriors on a holy mission, the way I have." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reveling in the pictures flickering past her mind's eye. "When you're diving for cover with your P-90 blazing, all sweaty and intense…" She sighed longingly. "There's nothing sexier in the universe." Opening her eyes, she looked at him with a small smile of satisfaction. "And, amazingly enough, you're all mine. What more could a geeky science chick want?"
Too turned on to concentrate, Jack's gruff, preoccupied reply lacked any real impact. "Let's be honest," he said distractedly as she slid his shirt onto the floor, "you're not the typical geeky science chick." When her mouth slowly made contact with his nipple, Jack closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.
Sam shrugged. "Close enough," she said dismissively. "I wasn't exactly homecoming queen material."
As her tongue danced tiny circles over his sensitive flesh, he struggled to maintain his train of thought. "Whatever," he rasped, "You're damn hot now." Running his fingers through the soft hair on the back of her head, he stifled a small moan of pleasure. "I think half the base has a crush on you."
Sam abruptly pulled away and looked up at his face. "Really?" She sounded shocked.
Jack glared at her impatiently, clearly irritated by her sudden shift in gears. "Oh for cryin' out loud," he muttered. "Yes, really. You're gorgeous, smarter than Einstein, and totally oblivious to all your amazing qualities." Unable to keep the affection out of his voice, he smiled in spite of himself. "You really are a national treasure, Sam." Then, as another thought struck him, his eyes darkened dangerously. "And if any of those horny little bastards think they can get their hands on said treasure, I'll happily demonstrate just how good I really am with my P-90."
Sam laughed enticingly. "Now, now," she purred, leisurely returning to her earlier examination of his bare chest, "there's no need to get violent." Still chuckling, she slowly placed a line of kisses from his left pectoral muscle to his collarbone. "I'm perfectly capable of fending off overzealous men," she said with a smile. "After all, I'm better with a P-90 than you are."
Jack smiled and shook his head slightly. Only Sam would brag at a time like this. "You're better at a lot of things than I am, Carter." Then, as her tongue gently traced the hollow just below his neck, he sucked a hissing breath in between his teeth.
Sam smiled and continued placing kisses along his shoulder. "You just said I was a national treasure," she teased gently. "That's to be expected."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, a lot of people are better at things than I am," he muttered, trying to push his lingering insecurities out of his mind. "I live in fear of the day that some young hotshot comes along and," he grimaced as he continued, "free of any possible career-ending fraternization threats, sweeps you off your feet."
Sam paused, looking back into his intense, brown eyes. "Nobody else could hold a candle to you, Jack," she whispered softly. "Especially not after this. These past few weeks have been everything I've ever wanted in life." She reached behind his head and pulled his lips down to hers with the fevered passion that had been building inside of her since their kiss on the cliff.
Lost in a tidal wave of sensations, Sam allowed herself to be carried away in the electricity of the moment. Feeling her heart pounding wildly, she reveled in the sensation of his warm hands along her lower back. With a little moan of pleasure, she reached down and deftly released the button on the front of his pants.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, Jack growled deep in his throat. He closed his eyes in mute satisfaction as her fingers slowly inched his zipper down over the ultra-sensitive flesh straining beneath it. Struggling for breath, he glanced briefly at the steaming pool in the floor beside them. "Is the water ready?" he panted roughly.
Sam's eyes were ablaze with the knowledge of her effect on him. Pausing in her slow removal of his clothes, she stepped back slightly and nodded. "It's perfect," she said seductively. Then, aware of his reluctance to cause her any pain, Sam reached up and grasped the elastic band at the bottom of her sports bra. With one quick tug, she pulled the stretchy material over her head and tossed it onto the pile of their discarded clothing. Basking in his heated stare, she quickly undid the button and zipper on her own pants and nimbly stepped out of them, leaving her clad in only a pair of black bikini panties.
"Carter," he rasped desperately, "you're killing me." Despite the angry, red welts on her ribs and the multitude of cuts and bruises that were sprinkled liberally over the rest of her, she was impossibly lithe and graceful in appearance. Her long, ivory limbs seemed to stretch for miles, drawing attention to her regal height and willowy frame. Full, rounded breasts crested in deep, rosy nipples perfectly offset her flat stomach. Most amazing, though, was the fevered look burning in her eyes. Jack had no idea how he'd ever managed to attract such a gorgeous woman, but the sight of her nearly took his breath away.
Sam smiled at his gruff words. "Killing you? Well, that's no good." Her voice was soft and throaty, filled with the sensual promise of things to come. "I'm not done with you yet."
As she slid her mostly naked body up against his own bare flesh, Jack groaned at the indescribable sensations which tore through his body. "Exactly what have you got planned for me, Samantha?" He tried focusing on the cool, glassy surface of the floor beneath him in an attempt to lower his own body temperature a few notches.
Sam skimmed her hands along his narrow waist and down to the open front of his pants. Sliding her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers, she smiled at the tension that hummed through his body. "For starters, a bath," she purred. "No way I'm inviting anyone so dusty and grimy to share my clean sheets."
Jack spoke in a harsh whisper. "You're not so clean yourself, Carter." Forcing himself to keep talking, he closed his eyes against the onslaught of pleasure her hands were eliciting. "In fact, I'd say you're probably even dustier than I am." It wasn't the conversation which interested him, so much as prolonging these fevered, erotic moments.
She just smiled devilishly at him. "Well then," she breathed, "that'll work out perfectly, seeing as how we have a bathtub big enough for the both of us." With those words, she allowed her hands to slither completely into his boxers. As one finger gently brushed up against the solid, velvety length of him, she felt his entire body tense with anticipation. She lingered against his straining heat for only a moment before skillfully moving her hands to his hips.
Jack found himself completely unable to speak. At the moment her fingers had so teasingly brushed up against him, he heard a rough, inarticulate noise rip away from his throat, but was otherwise too winded to talk.
Understanding that her lover's boiling point was quickly being reached, Sam slowly eased his boxers and slacks off his body in one, lithe movement. As she knelt to pull the garments past his bare feet, her breath whispered against the most sensitive part of him and Jack issued a violent expletive. "That's it," he muttered. Grabbing her by the arm, he tugged with enough force to pull her back to her feet. Stepping out of his pants, he leaned forward in one, primitive movement and slammed his mouth on top of hers.
Suddenly, Sam found herself feeling a little dizzy. She'd managed to keep control of the situation up to this point, but it appeared that Jack now had plans of his own. As his mouth hungrily plundered every sweet corner of hers, one hand snuck in between their bodies, firmly cradling the heavy weight of her breast. When his fingers lazily kneaded its sensitive peak, Sam found herself tearing her mouth from his and moaning helplessly.
Unwilling to stop his insistent exploration of her body, Jack dropped his hands to her waist and began trailing kisses along her neck and collarbone. In the space of a few heartbeats, Sam felt his mouth eagerly picking up where his hand had just left off. The sensation of his velvet-soft tongue on her sensitized skin left her clinging to his shoulders for support.
With relentless attention to detail, Jack continued his erotic journey downward, only pausing once to gaze regretfully at the crimson welts on her ribs. Those he carefully avoided, instead, placing delicate kisses just above and below the injury, as if to ease any discomfort they might have caused her.
Before she had a chance to absorb the tender gesture, he was moving on to bolder pursuits. As his tongue briefly caressed the edge of her navel, Sam closed her eyes and tossed her head back in wild abandon. Only when she felt cool air on her backside did she realize he was removing the last, tiny scrap of fabric covering her body. His hands slid the garment down her long legs, while his mouth nipped gently at her hip. When she finally stepped out of the black underpants, Sam could feel his breath tickling the overheated flesh of her inner thigh.
Looking down, she saw the fevered look in his eyes and drew every remaining ounce of willpower left in her body. "Oh no," she commanded with surprising firmness. "You're getting into that tub now, Colonel."
He looked up at her wickedly. "You can't give me the orders, Major. I'm your CO, remember?"
Sam nimbly stepped away from him. "Then arrest me for insubordination, sir." She pointed to the large pool beside them. "Get your sexy butt into that bathtub, or you're going to be very, very sorry."
Jack didn't appear daunted in the least. Creeping forward, he tried grabbing her waist, but she danced away again. "C'mon, Sam," he pleaded softly.
"Later," she commanded. Purposefully, she turned and walked down the steps into the deliciously warm water. With naked longing evident in her expression, she stared at him intensely. "Don't make me wait any longer," she rasped.
As the playful atmosphere in the room evaporated, Jack saw the need glowing in her blue eyes and felt it reflected in his own. Without another word, he rose from the floor and followed her down the steps into the satisfying warmth of the pool. Drawing her into his arms, he slid to a seat on the stone bench, pulling her on top of him as he did so.
As she felt the hot tip of him press against her intimately, she gasped with pleasure. Suddenly, however, something occurred to her. "Wait!" she panted. "you're forgetting a-"
He cut her off with a firm kiss. "I'm not forgetting," he murmured. "There aren't any more."
Sam gaped at him. They'd gone through that entire box of condoms? It wasn't impossible, she knew, simply because of their never-ending need for each other. Still, this was a lousy moment to realize it. "But, what if-"
Again, he cut her off, this time with a gentle hand on her mouth. "I don't care, Sam."
With that bold pronouncement, Sam felt her eyes grow wide as saucers. Afraid to move a muscle, she waited silently for him to finish his explanation.
Swallowing thickly, he glanced away for a moment, trying to collect himself. "I never thought I'd want to be a father again." His whispered confession was issued so softly that she could hardly hear him. "But I'm finding that with you, anything is possible." When he looked back into her eyes, there were tears glimmering in his own. "I think the only thing I could love as much as you would be our child," he said hoarsely.
Instantly, Sam felt the hot rush of tears in her throat. "Oh, Jack," she exclaimed softly. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for this moment. She knew the immense emotional baggage that Jack possessed when it came to children. He loved kids – adored them. But, since the accident which had taken his son's life, he'd completely closed himself away from the idea of actually having one of his own. He didn't think he deserved it. With tears streaming down her face, she reacted to his statements in the only way she knew how. Leaning forward, she captured his mouth in a kiss of such sweet yearning and anticipation, it left them both breathless.
Finally, without words, their bodies met in a way that they'd never done before. Flesh to flesh, free of any barriers, the lovers came together in the most intimate manner possible. As the warm waters of the bath gently cleansed the day's events from their bodies, the healing power of their love washed away the dark corners of their spirits. And there, in the blissful moments of surrender which followed, both Sam and Jack felt utterly and completely at peace.
A/N: Not to completely shatter the moment, but now that I'vemanaged to get all that down on paper,I just have to say a few things…
First of all, I hate describing boobs. No matter how I phrase it, the words always sound dumb. I mean, they're boobs, for crying out loud! It's not like they do anything! ("Her full, round breasts…" did what? What the hell do boobs do?) Any verb you associate with a breast is just completely stupid. Breasts do not do anything. They sit there, hopefully not drooping to your knees, looking like, well… like boobs. Aargh!
Also, please note that I had our fair couple discard footwear before getting naked. This is crucial, as nothing looks less sexy than someone standing around butt naked except for shoes and socks.
I've just gotta say… romance writers definitely earn their money. Don't think for a moment that I'm unaware of how utterly cheesy some of this sounds. However, if you believe that writing about sex without sounding totally dippy or completely pornographic is easy, I strongly suggest you try it for yourself. I had an easier time coming up with fictitious uses of quantum mechanics than I did coming up with euphemisms for the word "penis." These are things they just don't teach you in school!
Okay. Sorry about that. I'm done now.