Here's the promised part four, ladies and gents! Remember, the more you feed the author, the more she writes, so click that lil' review button for a 4-second message and I'll be a happy lady!

(PS: what do you all say to some more Pete whumping:P)

Suddenly the little nest she'd made in him was ripped apart. She now sat on the bed, not his lap, though his hands still gripped her arms firmly but gently. Gingerly, and with a sigh, he peeled his hands off her, too. "I'm not Pete," he said, like he was confessing to some minor crime.

Huh? "I know," she replied. She let her next sentence go unsaid: Why'd you let go?

"W – huh?" he said, startled. They sat in silence for a few more moments before he said softly, "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" she asked, her conscience puking at the desperate tone in her voice. She scooted closer to him. "I…I was only seeing Pete because…because I didn't think I could ever have who I really wanted."

Silence reigned again, and she wished she could see his face, his expressions. So Sam leaned over to her nightstand and tugged on the chain of her lamp. The light snapped on and Colonel O'Neill immediately shielded his eyes. "Crap!" he hissed.

Sam blinked a couple of times to get used to the light. "Sorry," she said.

He moved his hand from his eyes and blinked rapidly until he too could see. But they wandered about her room, settling on some distant object and never once meeting hers.

She swallowed over a lump in her throat. "W-well, I guess that puts me in my place," she said a little shakily. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

She turned her head and didn't see him look at her bewilderedly. "Carter – " he began.

"Sir," she interrupted, "please leave. I'd like to be alone."

"Carter –!"

"Please!" she pleaded, a dry sob racking her body. She thrust herself off the bed and away from him. God, this hurt; emotion flooded her body so hard her fingers hurt again. She turned to the wall and covered her eyes with one hand shamefully, while the other arm hugged herself.

"Sam."

Her dying heart started to beat a little, somewhat revived by the sound of her name on his lips. Sam felt it purr, and there were no objections from HER when he came to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

The hand fell from her eyes and she turned in his arms, looking into his eyes. They were warm and loving, and her heart simply melted!

Mom's Additional Hints to Knowing You're in Love:

4) When your insides turn to mush when he looks into your eyes, no matter how cliché it may seem.

He leaned in, breath warm on her lips, barely touching them before pulling back slightly to look at her, as if to ask her for permission.

Permission? He could have done this years ago and I wouldn't have objected.

Sam leaned in a little more, brushing his lips with hers. Yes, she thought as his captured hers completely.

His tongue licked at her lips, seeking entrance, and she granted it. He explored every inch, every crevice of her mouth and mingled with her tongue. Sam's legs went weak and her knees knocked together. Holy Hannah! she wanted to shout. This kiss drove her wild!

5) When a kiss from him drives you wild, but would feel insignificant and normal from anyone else.

Purring a moan, she tugged him closer and entwined her arms around his neck. As she did so, his arms slid around her waist.

When they pulled apart, he still held her in his embrace. Both were breathing fairly heavily.

Sam suddenly felt something pressed against her, and she looked at him quizzically. He blushed – he actually blushed! – and said throatily, "It's my sidearm, I swear." Sam gave a little giggle because they both knew what it really was, and she was amazed he would react to her like that.

"That…that was nice," he said with a small laugh. "Pretty damn nice, actually."

Sam nodded, her eyes full of sky. "Yeah," she breathed. "Pretty damn great, if you ask me."

She snuggled into him, her forehead pressed against his neck. "Mmm…Jack," she sighed.

"Sam…" he murmured a moment later, even as he rubbed her back, "…we can't do this."

She froze for a moment, then pulled back to look at him. "What are you saying?" she asked, relieved and proud that her voice was calm and steady, and not whimpering or shaky.

"I –" he swallowed hard, "I'm saying…oh f'cryin' out loud, I don't know what I'm saying. This feels so…so right, but it's definitely against regulations."

Regulations. That was one word she'd hoped not to hear tonight, especially after that promising kiss.

"Yeah," she agreed softly.

The Colonel let go and smoothed his clothes, clearing his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow, then, major." He didn't look at her.

Sam swallowed a shaky, lumpy gulp. "Yes sir," she whispered.

"I'll lock the door on the way out; I still have the emergency key you handed out to me, Daniel, and Teal'c."

"Yes sir."

She waited until after she heard the front door close before she walked dizzily to the bed. She didn't want him to hear her collapse on her pillows.

I swear to god, she thought to herself snippily, I will never – NEVER – cry over a man again. You hear me! she shouted inwardly at the mists of tears forming in her eyes. I won't let you cry! I can't stand you flippin' tears anymore!

She clenched her teeth and clutched a pillow in both hands, willing herself never to cry. Taking a look at her clock, she realized it was now 2300 hours, three hours to midnight. When'd that happen?

Sighing, she sank into the sheets and willed herself a dreamless sleep. But even in her subconscious she could not escape Jack O'Neill, and she had a bittersweet sleep.