Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, school's been taking up a lot of time but the end is coming together pretty nicely (two chapters left after this one). Unfortunately, I probably won't be able to update again this weekend, I'm visiting a college then I have a paper to write, joy.

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Chapter 11: Saturday

Sam gazed at herself in the full length mirror near her closet, then sighed and pulled off her shirt in favor of a sweater, tossing the discarded garment half hazardly on her bed. She looked into the mirror again, turned sideways and stared for a moment contemplatively, then exchanged her jeans for a skirt and glanced in the mirror again, still not satisfied.

She was astounding herself. She hadn't gotten this self-conscious about her appearance since...well, no, not then either. And this wasn't even a date, it wasn't even an afternoon with a friends. She knew her commanding officer. It was a winner take all, knock down, drag out, eighteen-hole minigolf death match.

As the amount of clothes piled on her bed began to outnumber those in her closet, she found herself glancing more and more often at the extra SGC uniform that hung in the back. Never before had wearing army fatigues seemed so appealing.

Eventually, she ended up wearing something very similar to what she'd had on in the first place.

Sam was touching up her hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, freezing her insides.

"Ready to meet your match?" Jack asked as she pulled open the door.

"Bring it on," Sam replied with a smirk, stepping outside and locking her door.

"You look great by the way," Jack said, opening the door to his truck for her. He saw her inside then ran around to the driver's side.

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Jack managed to dominate the first two holes, staying right around par while Sam went a little bit over. He had begun to congratulate himself on finally finding a game he was better at than Sam, ignoring the possibility that she was operating under a strategy, one that involved getting used to how much force she needed to apply to the ball and in what direction.

Somewhere around the fourth hole their positions reversed and Sam started scoring better by a stroke or two, something Jack chalked up to beginner's luck or a random crosswind. It wasn't until she got her ball around a corner, past a windmill, and over a water hazard for a hole in one on a par four that he finally admitted defeat.

"Sam, how did you do that?"

"Well, I had to visualize the vectors and estimate the force required to..." she started to explain.

"Let's pretend for a minute that I don't know anything about that stuff." Jack said, cutting her off.

"Easy enough," Sam shrugged. When Jack gave her a strange look she added, "You did ask how I did it."

"Alright then, how do I do it?" Jack amended.

"You have to decide how you want the ball to travel then figure out how to make it do that, knowing that, barring any slopes or walls, it will always travel in a straight line," she replied.

"It's that figuring out part that's the problem," Jack informed her.

"Why don't you just try it and I'll watch you," Sam suggested.

Jack did as she asked, but knowing Sam was studying his shot only served to fluster him even more than loosing at his own game already had. Thus, in his nerves, he hit the ball too hard and it skipped out of bounds into a nearby bush. Extracting it was a trick and cost them several minutes and a few minor scrapes.

When he was ready again, Sam suggested timidly, "Maybe a little softer this time?"

"Thanks," Jack replied huffily, "I got that."

However, he seemed to take the advice a little too seriously. This time the ball didn't even make it to the corner before it rolled to a stop. Sam knew better than to say anything this time.

Jack stepped up to the ball and hit it again, a little harder, but the windmill stopped it.

He rarely kept his emotions close to the surface, but it seemed as though golf balls were quickly encroaching on the list of things for which that rule was null. Sam decided to take a more direct approach.

As Jack moved to set up his next shot, Sam slipped inside the circle created by his arms and placed her hands over his around the golf club.

He stiffened, too shocked to object.

She moved his hands slightly and adjusted his aim but Jack was paying more attention to the way her body was pressed against his and the gently touch of her hands. A moment later she swung his club and moved the ball to a few inches from the hole. From there, Jack hit it in easily, despite being distracted by his thoughts: if he continued to golf poorly, would she do that again?

As it turned out, that wasn't necessary, his game improved dramatically as he followed more and more of her advice. Within a few holes he was scoring nearly as well as Sam. When he finally got his first miraculous hole in one, they both cheered excitedly and Jack lifted Sam up in a hug and spun her around. One might have thought they had defeated the Goa'uld, they were celebrating so.

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By the back nine both golfers had developed a comfortable working proficiency, so he competition heated up. Sam managed to stay ahead of Jack, but he was still keeping her on her toes. Eventually, however, Jack decided that there would be no beating Sam, so he changed his tactic to making it as difficult for her as he could by trying to hit her ball away from the hole with his own.

After Jack knocked her ball out for the third time, Sam decided that it wasn't 'just an accident' as he insisted, so she did him one better. His ball was residing in her ball's former position only an inch or two from the hole, at a perfect angle to hers. She aimed her ball at his and hit it, hard. It glanced off the side, which changed its direction and slowed it down, and it rolled straight into the hole.

Jack could only stand and gape as his ball rolled past his foot. Sam smiled at him and bent down to fish her ball out of the hole, and Jack took to opportunity pick her up and pretend to throw her in a nearby water hazard. He let her down gently, but she still held on to him for support, both were laughing uproariously. Sam managed to pull herself together long enough to shove him in the direction of the water in retribution, but grabbed his hand and pulled him back before he got wet. The momentum caused them to spin around each other until they nearly collapsed in each other's arms, laughing hysterically.

When they finally recovered enough to stand on their own, all competition was forgotten and they completed the course in high spirits, attempting to make the strangest shots they possibly could.

All too soon the eighteenth hole was completed and they had to return their balls and clubs. However, they were reluctant to leave, so they bough sodas and sandwiches then played such a furious game of air hockey that they attracted an audience.

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Eventually, they had no choice but to leave as the course was closing, so Jack drove Sam home. As he walked her to her door she gazed up into the gathering dusk where the first stars were beginning to appear.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said as he stopped and looked up with her.

"Knowing about all the bad guys up there takes some of the fun out of it." Jack shrugged.

"I haven't had a chance to look at the sky like this in forever," Sam sighed.

"I've still got that telescope on my roof," Jack suggested.

"You do?" Sam asked eagerly.