A/N: You asked for it.

"Is your dad going back to Russia?" Andrew asked as the family sat down in Helen's favorite restaurant in town. It served a variety of foods from Mexican cuisine to Italian and American. Very convenient for a family of many different tastes.

Sam shook her head, "He's getting promoted to Brigadier General and accepting a position at the Pentagon."

William looked up, a little shocked that he hadn't heard this, "When did this happen?"

Sam thought back to when her father had told her about the promotion, "He told me yesterday, so probably about a week ago."

"Are you going with him?" Priscilla asked softly. She liked this girl that her older brother was dating. She was nice and actually talked to Priscilla like she was a human.

Sam smiled down at the girl who was sitting across the table from her, "I don't know yet. The school here is really great, but … I was shot here - by a gang that lives here. I'm not sure I could stay here even if I wanted to."

Joel looked at his watch, "Oh, crap. Sorry, I've gotta go. I'm supposed to meet Hannah in fifteen minutes!"

Helen looked at her son like he was crazy; "You told me that you could eat dinner with us after church, Joel."

"I'm sorry, Mom. She said it was important and she needed to see me after church today, I have to go."

William glared at his son, "Next time, don't double book."

"I try, Dad. Really I do." Joel practically ran out of the restaurant, leaving the family to eat a somewhat stressed meal before heading home.

"Sam? Can I talk to you?" Jack asked when the O'Neill's arrived back at their house. "It's important."

Sam turned to Helen and William, wanting to know if they knew what it was about. Helen nodded, letting her know it was very important and they wouldn't be interrupted. "Sure, Jack."

She looked around Jack's room that was meticulously clean for a teenaged boy. Something from his dad's discipline must have rubbed off. She sat down in his desk chair and waited for him to explain.

Jack picked up a dry erase board from his bookcase and brought it over to Sam, letting her see what was written there. It was a pyramid diagram with several tiers. There were numbers and various crimes written in each tier. After a few seconds, Sam realized what she was looking at and she dropped the board like it was on fire.

The second tier from the bottom had Jack's name written in it.

Her eyes grew wide with horror as she got up from the chair and backed away from Jack, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jack approached her slowly, "I didn't know how."

Sam's look was so utterly fearful and horrified that Jack literally felt sick, "Don't come near me, Jack. Not yet. That second tier says rape, Jack. Care to explain that one to me, huh, Jack?"

Jack stopped his advancement and sighed, looking down at his hands, shame filling him for what he had done. "That's how I met Carrie," he whispered just loud enough for Sam to hear.

The blood drained from her face and Sam grew deathly pale, "Oh, God, Jack!" Tears filled her eyes as she thought about everything he was implying wit his words. "That third tier says murder. Did you do that, too?"

Jack shook his head, mutely. He knew he deserved the words and the anger she threw at him … but it was just so much to be able to bear and keep his façade running smoothly.

"Why not?" Sam suddenly asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Excuse me?" Jack asked, unsure he heard right.

"Why. The. Hell. Not?" Sam said calmly, in a voice more frightening to Jack than her yelling demeanor of a few moments before.

Jack found her sky blue eyes and held their gaze as he said four words that changed everything for Sam: "Because I met you."

She didn't plan on what she did next, and neither did he, but it happened nonetheless. In a few long strides Sam bounded across the room to stand right in front of Jack, mere inches from his face. Her hand flew up of its own accord and soundly slapped Jack once across his cheek. Both of them were sure the resounding smack could be heard by the rest of Jack's family down the stairs.

"Don't you dare pin the blame from this on me, Jack O'Neill," Sam said, her voice low and dangerous.

Jack's eyes flashed rage at having just been slapped for something he didn't say, "What the hell's your problem, Carter?" When her hands came up again he snatched them in his own much larger ones. "No, Carter. No more hitting. Time for you to listen. I'm not blaming anything on you other than the fact that I'm no longer a part of that gang since I met you. I have morals now, Carter. And that is your fault."

Sam breathed in deeply, trying to suppress the emotions that welled within her at being so close to Jack's taught, muscular body. "My name is not Carter. It's Sam."

Jack's already dark eyes grew darker … she wasn't sure if it was passion or rage that lived in their depths. "It's Samantha," he growled predatorily.

Their kiss was full of every emotion the two had kept pent up inside for the past month. Ever since the shooting the two hadn't let themselves feel anything … but now they felt everything. Every place their bodies crushed together; every needless article of clothing; every painful stab as their still tender wounds were roughly crushed against the other. Every damn thing.

When they pulled away there were tears in Sam's eyes. "Hey," Jack said, having calmed down from their kiss. He pulled her toward him and guided her to sit on the bed with him, "What's wrong?"

Sam rested her head on Jack's shoulder, "Why didn't you just tell me sooner, Jack?"

He shrugged, "I'm sorry that I didn't, Sam. But I didn't know how."

She nodded, instating a silence between them that lasted comfortably for a few minutes before Sam broke it again: "I'm glad you found a way."

Jack kissed the top of her head, "Me, too, Sam. Me, too."

A/N: HA! Like Jack's stupid enough to propose that soon after telling Sam about the gang!

Where's my money?