Title: Marriage Is Not an Exact Science

Author: Andraste

Category: Missing Scene/Romance

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I promise to put them back when I'm done.

Spoilers: Ex Deus Machina (S9)

Author's Note: "Not exactly." The two words that sent S/J shipdom into a frenzy. What did Sam mean? ;) As always, thanks to Ayiana for the beta.

"Not exactly?"

Sam sighed and thumped her head on the pillow next to Jack's ear. She was currently sprawled atop him, and despite the indignant tone of his voice, his arms were banded tightly around her, holding her close.

She raised her head back up and nearly winced at the look of annoyance he was shooting her. "Jack…"

"How the hell can you be 'not exactly' single? There's a marriage certificate in the safe with both our names on it. I remember being sane and more or less sober at the time we signed it, too. We've just spent the last three months having fairly spectacular sex, whenever we're in the same time zone. I'd say this qualifies you to be decidedly not single in any way, shape, or form!"

She wondered if anyone would notice if he failed to show up for work on Monday. Surely she could find some method to kill him and hide the body. Perhaps a zat. But then again, the sex was amazingly spectacular…

She settled for resting her arms on either side of his head and kissing the tip of his nose. "Jack, the only thing keeping me from zatting you right now is this pesky little thing called love. But even that has its limits, pal. Can we drop it now?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not exactly."

Her growl of frustration startled both of them and had Jack eying her warily. "You are such a pain in the mik'ta," she muttered. "I should have just kept you as my love slave. I have no idea why I said yes when you proposed. Tell me again why I agreed to this?"

Now he was smirking at her. His eyes twinkled smugly. "Because we were both kinda drunk, we were about to be separated for God only knows how long, there was a bit of a regulations gray area at the time with our postings, and I'm really, really good in bed."

Hmm. She supposed those were good points, but more convincing was in order. "Anything else?"

She had the satisfaction of seeing a look of alarm cross his face. "Um… Well, I might have admitted that I thought you were totally hot. Are! Are hot. Was, are, always will be hot."

"Yeah, I thought that was pretty sweet." She wasn't particularly moved, however.

"There might have also been that one thing…"

He was so much fun to toy with. "And what thing would that be, Jack?"

He squirmed beneath her. One part of his anatomy seemed oblivious to the hot water the rest of him was in, and apparently wanted them to resolve this quickly. She smothered a grin.

"Um… That thing… Where, y'know… I, um… love you."

She decided to put him out of his misery, and rewarded him with a quick kiss. "That's a pretty good reason. Convenient, too, since I love you, too."

He smiled then, one of his rare, full smiles, and her brain turned to mush. They had been talking, about something…

She shook her head to clear it. The damn man oozed sensuality, and was oblivious to it. A very potent combination.

"Jack, we agreed we needed to keep quiet about our relationship and marriage. What was I supposed to tell Agent Barrett? 'Actually, Malcolm, I was naked with my former CO an hour after he left the SGC, and married him two weeks later. What's new with you?'"

"If I recall correctly, we were pretty much naked half an hour after we left the SGC that day."

The urge to kill, or at least maim him, was returning. "Jack, that's not the point." She slumped back down, resting her head beneath his chin. "He caught me by surprise. If I'd just said no, he'd have asked questions. I guess the 'not exactly' had more of a 'back off' connotation. He didn't say anything after that."

She swallowed a yelp of surprise as she was abruptly rolled beneath him. Her eyes followed the outline of muscles in the arms braced above her, and her focus began to drift.

"Sam…" He sighed. "Okay. I'm probably making more of an issue out of this than it actually is." His lips brushed hers in a whisper of a kiss. "I want to tell the whole freakin' galaxy that Samantha Carter, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, Doctor of Theoretical Astrophysics, and total babe, is married to me. It's frustrating that I can't."

Her hands came up and gently framed his face. The plain gold band on her left ring finger glinted in the low light of the room, its presence still foreign to her, as it was only worn when they were together. She traced his lips with her thumb, never tiring of simply being able to touch him.

"Patience, Jack." She grinned as he made a face. "I know, you hate that word. But that's what it will take."

His mouth descended upon hers, and within moments, she could almost feel her neurons shutting down, one by one. She nearly growled again when he pulled back. "Sam?"

"What?"

"You were messing with me again, weren't you? Toying with my fragile male ego."

Her grin was unapologetic and totally unrepentant. "Maybe."

He shook his head. "I think we need a new rule. Number five."

This time, Sam rolled her eyes. After eight years of being constrained by rules, Jack was awfully fond of creating new ones.

Rule number one was that they would communicate in some fashion every day, up to and including phones, email, fax, IM, text messaging, Asgard beam technology, ring transporters, Morse code, carrier pigeons, and smoke signals.

Rule number two: No matter what, they would spend no more than a month apart. Even if it meant they spent an hour together in an airport halfway between Washington D.C. and Colorado Springs as a last resort. Thankfully, it hadn't come to that yet.

Rule number three: Sam was allowed to drive Jack's truck (he'd ultimately been unable to part with his large manly toy, so Sam drove it around town when running errands so it wasn't sitting idle), and he was allowed to drive her newer Volvo. However, if he touched her vintage Volvo, his life would be absent of any and all sexual activity. And if he touched her Indian, he was dead. Since Jack was fond of sex and breathing, he considered it a fair trade.

Rule number four: If Jack kept his hands off her laptop and any gadgets she might bring home, Sam would keep him supplied with new video games and ensure that the game systems were in working order. (This rule was of Sam's making after an unfortunate incident involving her bored husband, a broken Playstation 2, her laptop, The Sims, and a bottle of Guinness.)

For being married for such a short time, they had collected quite a few rules, and Sam was reluctant to add another one. She tried to distract Jack by nuzzling his neck, but he pulled away.

"None of that now. I want marital rule number five on record."

She groaned. "Fine. What's your rule?"

"I'm not a toy, unless we both agree that I am. I'm an old man. It's not healthy for you to wind me up."

She arched her hips and nipped lightly at his shoulder. "You seem pretty spry to me, Jack…"

One of them moaned. She wasn't sure who. But Sam definitely knew the shuddering gasp came from her as he slipped inside her without warning.

"God…" she murmured, her voice catching.

He shifted above her, changing the angle slightly and making her eyes cross. "I'll be your toy right now, if you want," he offered with a grin.

This time she surprised him, shoving him onto his back before straddling him. "If you insist."

Then she began to move.

Later, entwined and sprawled bonelessly amidst the tangled bedclothes, a fleeting thought drifted through Sam's head and left a smile on her face as she drifted to sleep.

Jack O'Neill would always be her favorite toy, and she'd play with him whenever she wanted.

To hell with rule number five.