Chapter 7: Dancing in the Dark

Sam and Jack, who was currently posing as 'Pete,' sat in a dark corner of the restaurant overlooking a small dance floor. They ate their meals in silence until the lack of conversation became quite uncomfortable for them both. Pretending to be dating when you were technically prohibited from doing so was a tricky proposition… especially when both parties secretly harbored forbidden romantic feelings for each other.

Keeping up the act, just in case they were being watched or listened to, Jack initiated a conversation just as 'Pete' might have done. "So... Sam, what's new at work?"

Sam jumped at the sound of his voice. The events of the day had left her tense and jittery. She struggled to calm herself and then nervously answered, "Nothing much. At least nothing I can talk about." She was clearly not comfortable with the situation, but for a woman who had committed a murder in self-defense just a couple of hours before she was holding up rather well.

Trying to ease her discomfort somewhat, Jack tried to get her to relax by lightening the conversation. "Oh come on! You can tell me some things – just leave out the classified stuff."

Sam smiled faintly at his playful prodding and acquiesced, "Okay... Daniel is working hard as usual. The Colonel is gradually recovering from his injury and taking a vacation in Minnesota."

"What kind of boss is O'Neill?" Jack asked teasingly, still attempting to cheer her up.

It worked. Sam laughed softly, her smile a little wider this time, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Jack's expression suddenly turned serious. "Actually, I would."

Sam stared him straight in the eye and answered sincerely, "Okay. He can be a pain in the ass. But he's always there for me when I need him. And he is also the best CO I've ever had the honor of serving with."

"Quite a compliment." Jack took a sip of wine and waited for her to continue.

Instead of continuing to stroke his ego, she decided to turn the tables on him. "Enough about the Colonel. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you, Pete?"

Jack grinned, seemingly amused at having to make up a story about Pete's week. "Oh, you know. Going out on cases. I know how boring that stuff can be. Besides, murder and mayhem are hardly good topics for dinner conversation. Here I am at a beautiful candlelit restaurant, with one of the loveliest women I have ever known. Surely, we can find something more romantic to do than talk about cops and robbers." He motioned towards the empty dance floor. "In fact, how about a dance, Sam?"

The sound of old Italian art songs being performed by the house string quartet and a vocalist wafted through the air, but no one was dancing.

His suggestion only served to make Sam even more nervous. She visibly paled and started to fidget in her chair. "A dance?" she asked hesitantly, apprehensive of getting physically close to Jack.

"Sure...you...me...dancing...What's not to like?" He got up from his chair to help her out of her seat.

"Okay…but this doesn't really seem like the kind of music that you actually dance to…" she noted uncertainly.

Jack smirked playfully as he offered her his hand. "That makes it even more romantic, don't you think?"

They wound their way slowly to the dance floor. Once there, Jack pulled Sam into his arms, sheltering her in his welcoming embrace. Sam promptly accepted the comfort his arms offered, knowing it was something she needed it at that moment. Within seconds, she gently rested her head on his shoulder, finally relaxing after the horrors of the day. As they began to sway in time to the strains of "Il mio bel foco," Jack began to softly whisper a translation of the words into her ear.

"The fire of my love, however far or near I may be, is never changing. It will always burn for you, dearest eyes." At these words, Sam lifted her head to gaze into his eyes, finding only complete sincerity in their brown depths.

His own gaze tenderly traced the contours of her face as he continued, "The flame that burns in me is so dear to my soul, that it cannot be extinguished." As the vocalist's voice resonated on the last word of the phrase, Jack skillfully dipped Sam back and then pulled her back up until her body was once again securely in his embrace.

Sam smiled dazedly and then returned her head once again to his shoulder. He continued to murmur the words of the song in her ear. "And if fate entrusts you to me, lovely rays of my beautiful sun, my soul will desire no other light than you." As the song finished, he impulsively placed a light kiss on her cheek.

They continued to dance as the next song began, still alone on the dance floor. To both, it almost seemed as if they were the only two people in the room.

As they danced, Sam marveled that the man in her arms looked and sounded exactly like the man she had been dating for over a month. And yet, Pete had never made her feel this way. Being with Pete had been fun and exciting. Not so much because she was in love with him, but because it had been so long since anyone had treated her in that way – complimenting her, taking her dancing, bringing her flowers. Pete had made her feel desirable, and that was a novelty for a woman who spent her days on a military base or off on missions with the guys. But she had never really been in love with him. He had merely been an attempt to get over the one man she truly loved and could not have.

Knowing that she was here in this moment, actually dancing with Jack, brought butterflies to her stomach. She could only describe the way she was feeling as… giddy. It was then that she realized that even if he did look exactly like Pete, she could never mistake him for the other man. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her… it was all distinctively Jack. It didn't matter what he looked like. All that mattered was that the man behind the mimic device was really Jack. As she came to this realization, her hand reflexively wandered to the back of his neck. Venturing further, and knowing the risks of what she was feeling, she ran her fingertips lightly through the course ends of his short hair.

At her delicate touch, Jack began to wonder if this idea had been a good one. As he held Sam in his arms and felt her fingers running through his hair, he realized for the first time just how dangerous this operation could eventually get. No... he wasn't worried so much about the rogue NID. They were fairly predictable. He could handle them.

He was more worried about himself. Getting this close to Carter... to Sam... was playing with fire. How could he spend time with her outside work... pretending to be her boyfriend... and still be her ever-stalwart CO at the same time? How in hell was he going to be able to uphold the regulations when he knew full well how he really felt about the woman currently in his arms?

He adored her... he had known that fact for years. At work and on missions it was easy to put those feelings in a box and compartmentalize them. But spending time with her at romantic restaurants… holding her hand… touching and kissing her as a boyfriend was expected to… that was going to be the hard part.

The risk was always there that the line between his real self and the role he was playing would become irreparably blurred. And when this little charade they were playing came to an end - which he knew it undoubtedly would – how would he ever be able to go back to being just her CO and her friend?

AN: "Il mio bel foco," also called "Quella fiamma che m'accende," is an 18th century Italian art song. It probably hasn't been used as a song for dancing since that time. But I couldn't find any more modern Italian love songs that I liked and this one is just so darned romantic. The translation is pieced together from various sources.