Pairing: S/J
Set: Some time in the future, when Jack and Sam are no longer in the same chain of command.
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: I wrote this a while back, but it needed editing for content before I could post it here. I quite like this one, so I hope people enjoy it :)
It was their first date, and Sam was feeling decidedly nervous. If she had to be entirely honest she felt that eight years of working on the same team was enough of a first date for anyone, but Jack had insisted they do things properly. Unfortunately there was one question that kept nagging her and she just couldn't relax.
Halfway through their starters, Sam couldn't take the pressure anymore. "Jack, I think we should have sex tonight."
To give him credit, he didn't choke or sputter or show any of the other signs of embarrassment that she might have expected: he merely laid his fork down and swallowed hard. If it weren't for a muscle tightening and relaxing in his cheek, she might have thought he was totally unbothered by what she'd just said.
"And you've decided this, why?" His tone was curious but not outraged, thank goodness. She could explain this to him, logically and calmly.
"Isn't it obvious? It's the question on everyone's mind on a first date: am I going to sleep with him or not? I just think that we need to face the facts."
"And those are?"
Sam had a horrible feeling that he was laughing at her, but continued regardless, determined to get everything out into the open. It was just a shame that she couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Well, after all the buildup we've had the first time is obviously going to be a anticlimax, so I figure we should just get it out of the way." She wilted slightly under the look of disbelief he was giving her. "That way we can work on getting things right next time..."
"Let me get this straight?" Jack asked. "You want us to have sex because it's going to be horrible and we might as well get it over and done with?"
It didn't sound quite so logical when he put it that way. In fact, Sam could even see how she might have hurt his feelings. "Pretty much."
He picked up his fork and took another mouthful of salad, chewing meticulously. She waited impatiently for him to swallow.
"And I'm automatically going to be horrible in bed?"
This was bad. "I didn't mean that, exactly..."
He looked at her quizzically. "So are you trying to tell me you're... inexperienced? Because I thought, well, you've been engaged twice and I guess I just assumed –"
"No!" she hissed. "I've had plenty of experience." Then Sam realised what she'd said and slumped in her seat. "Oh god."
Jack was smirking at her, and she couldn't really blame him. "This is nice, isn't it?" he asked. "A typical first date. Maybe we should go with your suggestion – we could skip the rest of the meal, escape the awkwardness and head straight back to your place." He raised his eyebrows and she fought back her automatic reaction to run to the ladies and hide – definitely a strategic retreat - settling for glaring instead.
"Eat your salad!" She took another spoonful of soup herself, trying to ignore the way he was staring at her. The look on his face told her that she was amusing and crazy and incredibly precious, all at once, and really wasn't helping her to maintain her equilibrium.
By the time their main courses arrived she had wound herself up even further, replaying her words over and over. Instead of feeling relaxed after talking things over, as she'd persuaded herself she would, her stomach was churning and she didn't see how she could possibly force down her main course. Plus, she'd probably blown any chance of ever spending the night with him after her 'You're bound to be crap in bed' speech: talk about ruining the mood.
"Carter!" She looked up from the steak dinner she'd been staring at. "Look, let's just forget what you said for the rest of the evening, okay? Yes, the first time we... sleep together might be horrible, but we don't have to worry about it and ruin the whole evening."
A wave of embarrassment surged through her and she could feel her cheeks burn. She didn't like hearing the resignation in Jack's voice, and she didn't like knowing that he agreed with her... assessment of the situation, for lack of a better word. It was one thing after all to come to a certain conclusion on your own, but quite another to hear the object of far too many fantasies agree with you.
She raised her chin. "I disagree."
This time Jack did choke. "Sorry?"
"I don't think it'll be awful."
He was studying her as if she had three heads; again, she didn't blame him. Except she did, because she felt embarrassed and cranky and blaming him was easier than facing up to her own culpability. "But you just said –"
"So?" Sam stared at him defiantly. "I can't make a mistake?"
"Hey!" He lifted his hands up, palms towards her. "There is no way I can answer that without you jumping down my throat!"
For the first time since her little outburst, Sam felt like smiling. "Okay then."
She took a forkful of steak; it tasted fabulous. She ignored the irate male sitting opposite her.
"Sam." His voice was dangerous, but at least he was using her first name for once. She smiled sweetly at him.
"How's your steak, Jack?"
"So are we having sex this evening or not?"
She glared at him. "I haven't decided yet."
He glared back. "What if I don't want to?"
"Then you're a total idiot and you deserve to spend the night alone."
She'd hoped he'd see the funny side in what she'd just said, but his face went blank and she found herself cringing. Finally he gave her a tiny smile.
"You're absolutely right." She froze, warmth spreading through her.
"Really?"
He nodded. "Of course."
"Oh." That was worth knowing. She took another mouthful of food, chewing it automatically, her mind racing.
"And it's good." She had no idea what he was talking about. "The steak. It's good."
She smiled. "Good."
There was an uncomfortable silence, which Sam certainly didn't know how to fill. As it stretched out she racked her brains for anything for say.
"I'm beginning to wish we went to see a movie," Jack said. Sam sent him a startled look, and he shrugged in response. "At least we'd have something to discuss then."
She laughed nervously. "We were doing okay before I propositioned you; I should have just waited till the end of the evening and asked you in for coffee."
He smiled at her and their eyes locked. "That would have worked."
She was finding it hard to breathe, and tried to think of something to say. "You know, Daniel rang me just before you came over?"
"You too, huh?"
That she hadn't expected. "What did he say to you?"
"Oh, the usual. He reminded me to check the reservations, not to bring you flowers as they're a bit much for a first date, and threatened to talk me to death if I upset you. The usual." He looked at her sharply. "Why, what did he tell you?"
"Oh, the usual – something about a gate malfunction that needed my immediate attention." Jack jerked in his seat and Sam bit back a laugh. "I panicked for a minute or so before realising that if there were any problems, Daniel wouldn't be the one phoning me."
Jack gave her a rueful smile. "I'm going to have a nice little chat with him in the morning."
"Uh huh."
They managed to keep up the light conversation through the rest of their meal and the drive home without Sam embarrassing herself further. She tensed up as they pulled up in front of her house though, not sure of what he was expecting or what she should do now – she knew what she wanted to do. Jack took the decision out of her hands by leaning over to her and kissing her on the cheek, his lips brushing over the corner of her mouth. It tingled and she felt a rush of disappointment that the kiss had been so fleeting.
He gave her a small smile. "Thank you for a lovely evening, Carter. It's been... an experience."
She'd bet it had been. And suddenly Sam decided that she was being ridiculous: how many more awful dates did she want to go through just for the sake of proprieties? "Don't you want to come in for a drink?"
He looked at her carefully and she flushed under his gaze. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Absolutely."
As they walked together to her door Sam marveled at how weird this all felt. It wasn't as if she'd never invited a guy over for sex before, but usually there was either more certainty (established relationship) or much less (if she had only recently met the guy); none of this 'I've known you for eight or so years, I propositioned you at the dinner table, then changed my mind at least two more times before inviting you in' melodrama. She wondered if all thirty-something women were still climbing the learning curve as far as men went, or if it was just her. Given her dating history over the past few years (fiancé included) it was probably just her.
She walked straight into the kitchen and started hunting for glasses. "What would you like to drink?"
Jack was hanging back in the doorway. "Just a coffee, thanks."
"You don't want anything stronger?"
He shrugged. "That would put me over the limit."
She closed her eyes in frustration. "This hasn't been very romantic, has it?"
He shrugged again, a smile creeping across his lips. "We're not exactly a hearts and flowers kind of couple, are we? Going on a date was probably a bad idea in the first place."
"It wouldn't have been if I'd just kept my mouth shut," Sam muttered, and glared as she saw Jack's shoulders shaking. "What?"
"C'mere."
She walked cautiously towards him, fighting disappointment as he enfolded her in his arms and hugged her tightly. And then she wasn't disappointed anymore; it was really nice to just hug without worrying about what people would think. As his head lowered and his mouth made contact with her neck, all thoughts of disappointment flew out of her mind altogether.
He murmured something but she couldn't hear him as the words were muffled against her skin; still, the tickling felt good and she almost didn't want to ask. "Sorry?"
"You would tell me if this was totally horrible, wouldn't you?"
She pulled back and punched him on the arm.
"Hey!" he yelped.
"That wasn't fair!" she complained.
He smirked, his eyes dancing. "Well, I'm under a lot of pressure here – you've got to make some allowances."
She stepped closer to him so that he wasn't laughing anymore. "Okay. " Then she kissed him and her healthy dose of irritation disappeared altogether.
She felt hands slide up under her top, gently stroking her skin, and she moaned softly. Jack lifted his head and she focused on him, feeling slightly dazed.
"Can we take this upstairs?" Jack asked.
After years of diligently following a 'no touching' policy, his hands had scrambled her brain in two minutes.
"Huh?"
"Upstairs. Not that kitchen counter sex isn't fun, but it's not exactly what I had in mind."
Her head cleared and she suddenly realised what he was talking about. "Okay." She took his hand and tugged it, leading him up her stairs. After a couple of breaks for more kissing, they ended up in her room.
The tiny part of her brain that was still working told Sam she should feel at least a little nervous, but his mouth was doing wonderful things to her ear lobe and his hands were unbuttoning her shirt, and all she could think about was how unfair (and unexpected) it was that he was so good at multi-tasking.
She shivered as he exposed her back to the cool air, and then shivered some more as she felt her bra straps slip down over arms. Somehow he managed to edge her back at the same time till her legs were pressed against the bed, and then she was lying with him above her and his lips were closing over one of her nipples.
Sam gave up on trying to return his caresses and moved her hands up from his waist, resting one on his short hair and cupping the breast he was neglecting with the other. One of his hands brushed hers, and then she suppressed a moan of protest as he stopped what he was doing and looked up, lips curving. "Great minds, huh?" He shifted her hand out of the way and took over, doing quite a nice job. Very nice, in fact. She was beginning to feel a bit guilty for not doing more to remove his clothes, but pulling his sweater off would involve him having to stop what he was doing and she really didn't want that, so she settled for stroking the back of his neck instead.
Finally Sam decided that she should really be making more of an effort to reciprocate, tingling skin or no, and tugged gently on his hair. "Jack."
He looked up again; his eyes were almost black and she gulped, reaching down to his shoulders. "Let me take your sweater off."
He scooted up the bed. "How about we do a trade: my sweater for your pants."
How could anyone turn down an offer like that? "I think that could be arranged." She tried to ignore the way it felt when he began stroking the skin above the waistband of her pants. "Me first." She pulled the jumper over his head and ran her hands lightly up his chest, smiling in satisfaction as he flinched.
"Is that horrible?" she mocked and leaned forward, flicking her tongue over one of his nipples. He groaned and, feeling encouraged, she gave the same treatment to the other, feeling for his belt at the same time.
"I thought the deal was for your pants to come off?" he gasped. Sam shrugged. "I'm fairly flexible about these things." She got the buckle undone and started on his button, brushing his bulge lightly with her hand. He gasped again and her smile grew.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
She brushed her hand over him again. "I think I've got the idea."
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. "Fair's fair." Jack stripped her pants and underwear off and then finished undressing himself while Sam watched. She eyed him carefully. "Nice muscle tone – do you work out or something?"
He slapped her lightly on the ass and pushed her back onto the bed, joining her quickly. "Hey!" she complained.
She started rolling away when she felt a hand rest on her upper thigh, and then start rubbing circles into her leg. "Sorry," he replied.
"Jack?"
He moved his hand inwards, a huge grin on his face. "Is there a problem, Sam?"
She tried to keep her voice normal, but suspected she wasn't doing a very good job of it. "No problem." He moved his fingers against her and she gasped. "That feels... "
His other hand covered one of her breasts. "You were saying?"
"Don't stop."
"I won't." By now her eyes were closed, but she could still hear his smile in his voice. As he began to touch her, Sam's back arched involuntarily and she moaned.
"Is that better?"
She somehow nodded. "Uh huh." It didn't take much more for her to reach orgasm, hips bucking and head thrashing.
Finally she opened her eyes to see Jack leaning on one elbow, gazing at her. She rolled over to face him, feeling slightly self-conscious. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing."
He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were warm. She decided she didn't mind his scrutiny and ran one hand down his chest to his navel. "Are you feeling neglected?"
Her hand trailed lower, and he shook his head abruptly. "I don't think that's the – Carter!"
She pushed on his chest and he willingly shifted so that he was lying on his back. She kissed down the path her fingers had taken had taken, biting lightly over his hipbone and enjoying the sounds he made – various soft mumblings. She'd seen him not knowing what to say many times before, but this was definitely the most fun to watch.
As she licked him, Jack shuddered and grabbed her shoulders, pulling him up towards her. "Sam, if you don't want this to end in about thirty seconds..."
"Oh." She was tempted to continue, but was ultimately far too greedy to argue. "Okay."
He moved so that he was balanced above her on his hands and she grasped him firmly, easing him into her. Finally he was fully inside her and she gasped, relaxing her muscles around him. "May I?" he asked.
She nodded. "Oh yes."
He began to move inside her, slowly at first, and she gripped his shoulders. "I'm not going to break, Jack."
He smiled. "I've no doubt about that." He started thrusting harder and she listened to him gasp, and then realised he wasn't the only one panting. As he lifted himself up slightly, changing the angle, she moaned, hands running up and down his back.
He kissed her again, then moved his mouth to her neck, finding a sweet spot at the corner of her jaw and making her yelp, but in such a good way.
"Do you need any help?" he gasped.
"No..." Her muscles were tightening in anticipation and she was so close...
Oh. She hadn't realised... She hadn't expected that so soon. She stroked the sweaty back of the man who had collapsed on top of her, resisting the urge to keep moving underneath.
She didn't really want to complain – he had taken care of her quite competently that evening already, which was more than some of men bothered with – but he really was very heavy and didn't seem inclined to move. She prodded him. "Jack."
"Sorry," he mumbled and rolled to his side, pulling her into his side. He lay there with closed eyes and she squirmed slightly, trying to find a position that was less frustrating on her sensitised nerves and wondering if it would be bad etiquette to slip into the bathroom and finish herself off.
Finally she decided that she needed to clean herself up anyway and started disentangling herself from him, trying to dislodge his arm. "Jack, I need to –"
He opened his eyes and looked at her; despite her best efforts to act normally, he seemed to recognise the look on her face. "Aw, crap."
Sam shook her head. "It's fine. I already – earlier."
He brought a hand up to his temples, rubbing them. "Is this the part where you tell me how horrible the sex was?"
And she'd thought she'd been embarrassed earlier. "No! It was good, I just didn't..." She didn't know why she felt so embarrassed by saying the word, but she just did. "It's not a big deal." In fact, in a weird way his reaction was kind of cute – surely he must know that women didn't always orgasm during intercourse, or was it just that he had high expectations?
Jack rolled over again and covered her lips with his own. The kiss went quite some way to making up for her disappointment. Then his lips left hers and started descending down her body, and Sam squirmed. "Jack, you don't need to do this."
He glanced up at her. "You don't want me too?" Then he bit down gently on one of her nipples and all thoughts of protest soared right out of her head.
As his lips kept descending she found herself short of breath. His lips lingering on the inside curve of her hip bone... how did he know to touch her there? And then he continued down, past where she wanted his touch, till he was kissing her inner thighs. She moaned again, writhing until he pinned down her hips with an arm across her abdomen. He worked on her with fingers, lips and tongue and she listened to the noises spilling from her lips, wondering she could really be pleading so loudly.
Intense as the feelings were, Sam wanted just a little more; she released her grip on the comforter and brought her hands up to her breasts, pinching down gently at first, and then harder. The extra sensations caused her to cry out again, and then she lost all coordination as she came in a rush, moaning and calling out his name.
As she lay panting, she was only vaguely aware of the hands that stroked her down from her waist to her knees and then back up again. "Wow."
He stopped the hand motions – for a split second she considered complaining – and crawled up to her side, kissing herself tenderly. "So that wasn't horrible, then?"
She wanted to hit him but really couldn't spare the energy, so settled for frowning instead. He gave her a lovely tender look, and she suspected she wasn't doing a very good job. "No!" A awful thought struck her. "Unless it was for you? Earlier, I mean."
He leaned over her again and kissed her very thoroughly. Her eyes widened when he finally leaned back. "Does that answer your question?"
She considered carefully: it was always important to be precise. "I think so."
He kissed her again, and she thought sleepily that she could get used to this. And then she thought of something else. "You are staying the night?"
Jack smiled. "I have to: I'm over the limit."
"Oh." She snuggled up against him, until she remembered. "But you didn't have that night-cap in the end."
He eased up onto one elbow. "Carter, could you just stop thinking for a little while? Please?"
She snuggled some more, brushing her lips against his chest. "It's pretty hot when you call me Carter in bed, you know?"
He let out a sound that she guessed was supposed to be a growl, and then started tickling her round her ribs until she was shrieking. "Happy now?"
She wasn't sure exactly why being tickled was supposed to make her happy, but somehow it did. "Uh huh."
She was just drifting off to sleep when a final question occurred to her, and she really had to ask this one. "Jack, did you really think we'd be bad in bed together?"
He groaned. "Is this the last one?"
She tried her best to sound meek and biddable. "Yes."
"No."
That was exactly what she had wanted to hear. "Good night, Jack."
She felt him smile against his forehead. "Night." And then she fell asleep.