A/N: There are no TWs for this chapter, just a warning for sappy, fluffy S/J time. I think they've earned it. ;-)
The snow was falling steadily by the time they pulled onto the lane leading to the cabin in Silver Lake. The full moon illuminated the snow-covered cabin making everything look like a magical holiday card.
"Oh, Jack it's beautiful," Sam breathed out in awe as she exited the truck. Her breath was foggy in the air, the cold making her shiver slightly.
"It is," Jack replied, drawing her eyes to him.
Sam smiled, realizing he was looking at her and not the breathtaking winter scene. She rolled her eyes at the overly mushy sentiment, but her insides melted at the romantic gesture nonetheless.
"Come on, Carter," Jack's voice was gruff with emotion as he pulled their duffel bags out of the back seat, "let's get you inside and warmed up."
It only took him a few minutes to get a fire going. The cabin was small with only two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a tiny living room/kitchen combo. While there was a propane furnace, Jack preferred to save it for emergencies when burning wood wasn't practical. The fireplace would heat the cabin, but they'd have to snuggle for warmth for a while. Not that Sam minded. Snuggling with Jack in front of a cozy fire sounded pretty darn good to her.
They'd stopped at a grocery store before arriving. The weather forecast was calling for substantial snow over the next two days, and Jack knew better than to try and venture out until the roads were cleared. Not that he minded. Being snowed in with Sam sounded pretty damn good to him.
Unfortunately, when it came time to snuggle in front of the fireplace, Jack's knees weren't willing to cooperate. The mixture of the long drive and sub-zero temperatures was wreaking havoc on his joints.
"Hey," Sam tugged him into her arms when she noticed his wince of pain, "let's skip the hard floor and stick to a soft bed."
Jack cast a rueful glance at the fireplace before letting her lead him to the back. The chill in the air had them laughing as they chose to forego undressing each other slowly. Instead, it was a race to see who could get under the covers first. Surprisingly, Jack won, but graciously pulled a very naked Sam into his arms before covering her with his body to keep her warm.
A few hours later, as Sam slept wrapped in his arms, Jack lay awake listening to the soft sounds of her breathing. A sense of contentment he'd never thought he'd feel again filled him. His arms tightened around her, holding her impossibly closer, making Sam grunt softly and wiggle at the tight embrace.
"Shhh, I'm here," she murmured in her sleep. The hand resting over his heart stroked him softly, seeking to soothe, misinterpreting his restlessness.
Jack's entire body clenched as the significance of what was happening settled over him. In this moment, Sam felt more like his wife, his lover, his soulmate than ever before. His breathing hitched, the poignant moment hitting him hard.
"Jack?" Sam's eyes fluttered open, sensing the abrupt change in his emotional state. Her gaze was glassy from sleep as she searched his face.
"I'm fine," he said gruffly and leaned down to press a reassuring kiss to her lips. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."
Sam's face scrunched up and she smiled sleepily. "Hmm," she murmured, "sweetheart, I like it," she said of the endearment he'd never used before. Rubbing her nose against his chest, she burrowed deeper into his warmth and went back to sleep.
They spent the next three days enjoying being snowed in, spending most of their time just being near one another. Jack was again surprised by how normal it all felt, like they'd been coming to his cabin together for years. But then Sam would look up from reading some scientific article, a twinkle in her eye. She'd bite her bottom lip gently before glancing away, a soft blush covering her face, and Jack was reminded they really were newlyweds and, yes, Samantha Carter really did have a tell when it came to her desire for him.
By the fourth day, he'd expected their desire to cool down just a bit, and was surprised when she woke him up in the darkness of the morning with an urgency that took his breath away. That time they'd come together swift and deep, his body seeking to provide what hers desperately demanded.
"I love you," Sam whispered fiercely after she'd collapsed against his chest. The wetness on her cheeks startled him.
"Carter?" Her name tumbled from him in concern as he gently rubbed her back.
She shook her head, unable to find her voice, instead kissing him with a depth of emotion that made his own voice tremble.
"I love you, too," he whispered back fiercely and hugged her close, never wanting to let go.
"Jack, we need to talk," Sam said the following morning, almost giggling at the way his entire body froze. Her brain remembered a weird anecdote about those being the scariest four words a man could hear. "About us," she tacked on for good measure, the giggle finally escaping as he looked at her in abject panic.
"Okay," Jack replied carefully, his previous years as a married man making him proceed cautiously.
"How in the world are we going to pull this off?" She asked.
"Pull what off?" He cocked his head.
"This," she gestured between them. "Staying professional at work because at home I can't get enough. And where is home?" She arched her eyebrows. "Do we have to continue living separate lives? What if I don't want to sleep alone at night? What if I get pregnant? What if—"
"Hey, hey," Jack immediately crossed to the couch and sat next to her. A feeling of immense relief swept over him that she wasn't about to break his heart. He pulled her into his arms. "Let's turn that big beautiful brain of yours off for a moment, okay?" He pulled back to look at her. "As long as we're together, we'll figure it out."
"But—"
"No buts," Jack cut her off, "let's proceed with the assumption that this is going to work."
Sam nodded, although she didn't exactly look happy.
"Home for me is wherever you are," he said simply, earning himself a little smile. "And as for continuing to live separate lives, on the surface, yes, we do," he chuckled at her huff of annoyance. He felt the same way. "But we are expertly trained military officers who deal with top secret information on a daily basis. I think we can handle a little subterfuge."
Sam chuckled lightly at that. "Can we agree to be together as much as possible outside the base?"
"Sam, that's a foregone conclusion," Jack replied with a look of surprise at the question.
"Okay, sir," Sam grinned at him. She hadn't used the honorific in weeks and it felt strange saying it.
Jack, on the other hand, was having the opposite reaction. "That's gonna be hard to get used to," he shuddered at the way she said 'sir.' It sounded like sex personified.
"What, 'sir'?" She cocked her head, her eyes widening as she recognized his heated reaction.
"You say it more than anyone else I know," Jack let out a harsh breath. "It's always been a sort of buffer, but now…" he trailed off.
"Whatever you say, Sir," she teased, drawing a groan from him.
"Cut it out, Carter," he warned good naturedly.
"Just look at it this way, sir , every time you hear the honorific, you'll be reminded how much you love me," she giggled at his pained expression.
They experienced their first argument on the way home, although Jack would contend it was more of a misunderstanding. He'd meant well, he really did. But he'd inadvertently stepped into a hornets' nest without realizing it. In his defense, they had been driving for the past seven hours and had already exhausted multiple discussion topics over the last week.
The conversation had started out easy enough. They were discussing living arrangements and Jack had made an offhand comment that he wasn't quite the neat freak she was. Sam had immediately clammed up and he knew he'd said something wrong, but instead of shutting up, he'd forged ahead.
"Sam, look," Jack tried to explain, "it only makes sense that as a neat freak you'd reorganize everything in my house, multiple times. It's what you do."
"Just because I like things organized," Sam said with clenched teeth, "does not mean I'm a freak of nature."
"I never said you were a freak of nature," Jack rolled his eyes, not yet understanding the gravity of the argument. "You are freakishly smart, which is hot by the way," he chuckled at his own joke, but cleared his throat when she just glared at him.
"Forget it," Sam snapped at him, making his own hackles rise just a bit.
And that's when he said it. He knew he shouldn't have but it was out of habit and way out of line. "No, I'm not going to forget it, Carter," he snapped back in his command tone. "You're mad at me and I want to know why."
"Forget it, Sir ," Sam growled at him, her eyes snapping with fire.
"Sir?" Jack cut his eyes at her, "what the hell, Sam?"
"Oh, so that wasn't an order you just barked out at me?" Sam countered in a deadly calm voice.
That deflated him immediately because it had been an order and he knew it. Pulling the truck over to the side of US-83 south, he threw it into park and turned to look at her.
"That was out of line, Sam," Jack said sincerely, "I'm sorry."
"Good," Sam huffed, still not looking at him.
But he could see it now, the hurt. Something he'd said had cut deep and he had no idea why. "Sam, talk to me," he said softly, "because I know I said something that wasn't good, but for the life of me I cannot figure out what."
"You know I like things organized," Sam's chin trembled as she fought back angry tears.
"What?" Jack was taken aback. That's what had upset her?
"You don't know how annoying I can be," her voice broke, "with the cleaning."
"Sam," Jack shook his head, "I swear it won't bother me at all. You can clean as much or as little as you want. Heck," he joked, "rearrange the entire pantry a thousand times if that's what you want to do."
"He called me a freak of nature," Sam said stiffly, looking at her hands that were gripped together in her lap. "A neat freak who was always wound too tight."
She didn't need to tell Jack who the he was.
"But organizing things is how I relax," Sam finally raised her eyes to Jack's and the pain he saw in them made him want to zat the bastard all over again.
"Sam, sweetheart, I know," he reached for her, but she jerked away.
"I promise not to rearrange your stuff," she vowed as a tear leaked from the corner of her eye. "I don't want to get on your nerves."
"Dammit Sam," he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You can rearrange my stuff anytime you want, okay," he caught the stray tear with his thumb. "And if anything you do ever does get on my nerves, that's my problem. Not yours. Understand?"
She gave him a watery smile and nodded, but he could tell she wasn't convinced. Wishing they weren't on the side of a US highway, Jack gave her a hard and quick kiss, then started driving again. Sam didn't say anything, but she did rest her hand on his thigh. They'd be okay.
By the time they made it through the entire fourteen hour drive back to Colorado Springs, they were both beyond exhausted. They had planned on stopping somewhere for the night around North Platte, Nebraska, but another winter storm was rolling in and they decided it would be best to push through.
Sam had taken over driving around Ogallala. They hadn't talked much, but Jack had rested his hand on the seat touching her leg as he'd closed his eyes to rest. It was enough.
As she'd driven into Colorado Springs, Sam didn't ask where they should go, she'd simply driven to Jack's house and parked in the driveway. They didn't speak as they climbed out of the truck and trudged into the house.
"Shower," Jack grunted, dropping their bags by the door.
"Sleep first," Sam replied, heading for his bedroom and flopping onto the bed still fully clothed.
She awoke the next morning under the covers in her sports bra and panties. Stretching, she glanced over at Jack, still asleep face down in his pillow. Smiling to herself, she rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen. After making coffee, she grabbed the bags of food they'd brought home and laid everything out along the counter. Opening the pantry, she eyed it warily. It was a mess. Boxes of spaghetti were thrown on top of a bag of rice and canned goods were shoved in wherever they'd fit.
She frowned, remembering their conversation from yesterday. Now that she'd gotten some rest, it seemed so silly. She knew Jack was nothing like Pete, and to even compare them was such an insult to Jack; she couldn't believe she'd done it. Shaking her head, she started tearing all of the stuff out of his pantry and into organized piles. She checked expiration dates and tossed anything she deemed a risk.
By the time she'd worked her way alphabetically to Oats, Jack was shuffling into the kitchen. He took one look at her and smiled. Running his finger along the boxes of cereal, he stopped at the Froot Loops and pulled it out.
"This is much better," he said before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "Beats moving everything out of the way every time I try to find something."
She shook her head and smiled back. "I'm sorry, Jack," she said with a shrug, "I shouldn't have freaked out on you yesterday."
"We're gonna push each other's buttons at times," he said while pouring milk over his sugary breakfast. "But please just tell me if I stick my foot in my mouth again," he took a bite of cereal and made a face. Standing, he carried his bowl over to the sink and spit, then poured everything into the garbage disposal. "Soured," he blanched.
"I haven't gotten to the refrigerator yet," she chuckled lightly and handed him one of the bananas they'd brought home.
"Thanks for warning me, dear," he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling when he left her to her organization.
