Week 2
Sam chewed each bite of food slowly, one could say even methodically, focusing on the texture and flavors combining in her mouth. The meal wasn't particularly good, simple reconstituted eggs and pre-cooked bacon from the rations General Hammond had sent, but she pretended to savor each bite out of self-preservation.
They'd been stuck, quarantined if you will, at the palace by the beach for almost two weeks, thirteen days to be exact. At first, it had been relaxing. The light's effects had lowered her inhibitions enough for her to not care about anything other than enjoying herself in each moment. Given her workaholic tendencies, the experience had been incredibly freeing. She'd been content to consider their temporary exile as a long-awaited vacation with two of her closest friends.
She even enjoyed Jack's—the Colonel's, she mentally corrected—not so subtle innuendos. She'd thought it was cute the way he couldn't engage his own internal filter. He'd said things over the last week that he would never dream of sharing before. Sam now knew he thought her eyes were the same pale blue as the Stargate's event horizon, he adored her brilliance, was turned on by technobabble, and just this morning he told her she had lips that begged to be kissed.
Of course he hadn't actually kissed her; he had looked at her with wide, shocked eyes before practically running away. And therein lay the problem. Even under the influence of the light's effects, the damn man had more self control than should be humanly possible. He couldn't help but rake his eyes over her whenever she entered a room, his desire was unabashedly etched onto his chiseled features. Sam's body responded every single damn time, but then Jack would catch himself, turn around, and flee the room with some lame excuse.
Sam knew she should be glad he hadn't crossed the line. As her CO, Jack was doing exactly what he should. But as a man, he was leaving her incredibly frustrated. Her body was full of nerve endings that he set off with just a look, and she really wished he'd make a move already and end this torment.
Truthfully, this wasn't the first time she'd felt this way. She and Jack had been dancing around each other for four years and there had been numerous occasions where she was sure one of them was about to break. The sexual tension between them was palatable to almost everyone, enough that the inhabits of new planets usually assumed they were together. Even Janet had recently asked her if they'd ever tested how deep their attraction ran. She'd even told Sam, as a friend, to 'just get it out of her system' then go back to CO and 2IC.
But Sam understood why Jack hadn't made a move in the past. It was a huge risk for both of them--both professionally and personally.
Sam sighed deeply. This situation wasn't getting any easier. Something had to give. Maybe Janet was right, if they could simply release a bit of the built up sexual tension, maybe they could make it through this increasingly wretched situation. Maybe this was the universe handing them a get out of jail free card. Alien influence. Another week in a palace by the beach. It made so much sense. She deserved this. No, she needed this. Needed it more than needed to breathe. Now she just had to to convince Jack.