Ok, so another two chapter for you today, since I'm going home for the week, and won't be able to post. Thanks for the fantastic reviews, and hope u like the rest of the story...

Chapter 5: A big mistake?

Watching her dance with the guy was like torture. He couldn't help the relief that swept through him when she left Mal within minutes and strode back towards him, a huge smile on her face.

"You're looking happy," he commented as she arrived at his side.

"Yeah. Can we go?"

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he followed her towards the exit, feeling Mal's gaze on them the whole way.

Outside, there was an edge to the wind as it blew through the streets of Colorado Springs. She was standing by his car, smiling happily, either ignoring or not feeling the iciness of the night.

"Home?" he asked.

"Home," was her reply. "Thank you for tonight. I needed it, I enjoyed myself, and I realised that I'm actually over him."

"Over him?" he sounded sceptical, he knew that, but they'd been through this before.

"Definitely. I think we should celebrate. Let's buy some champagne on the way back. And maybe, if you're lucky, some cake as well."

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That was how Jack found himself two hours and two bottles of champagne later, lying on his sofa, kissing Samantha Carter. He couldn't remember who had initiated it, or why, or how. But he really didn't care. Her lips and teeth were clashing with his, their tongues duelling. She tasted like she smelled, and he couldn't recall ever being so aroused in his life. Straddling him, Sam grinded into his hips, making him groan into her mouth. As her t-shirt and bra were thrown towards the floor, his hands kneaded her breasts and then it was his mouth's turn, and her turn to groan.

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Her eyes felt glued together, her throat as dry as any desert. She also couldn't move. As her eyelids struggled to lift, she realised her body was indeed held down: by a distinctly male form. Confused, she struggled to recall the events leading to the morning.

"Oh God," her murmur was enough for Jack to start stirring. His torso was on top of her, keeping her anchored to the bed, his legs were intimately tangled with hers. One arm was behind her head, the other across her stomach with his hand on her hip. It was a possessive gesture which- rather than irking her feminist side as it would usually- made her feel safe and loved. Loved? The though spurred her into action and she shoved him from her body, rolled off the bed and grabbed a t-shirt that was draped over the edge of the bed-frame. Pulling it over her head, she noted that he was now wide awake, frozen as he took in her dishevelled appearance.

To her surprise, his mouth tilted into a small smirk, and with a deep, throaty murmur that made her skin tingle, he greeted her with a "morning."

"Morning?" she squawked. "That's what you have to say to this? What did we do?"

This just seemed to feed his amusement, the smirk widening into a grin.

"Did your dad never explain the birds and the-" she cut across him rudely.

"Oh, don't start. Don't you realise what kind of mistake this is?" she was on a roll now. "We were good friends, we've ruined that. It'll make things all awkward and…"

She realised that the smile had been wiped from his face. He was angry. She hadn't expected that. Surely he saw that this was a mistake? Or maybe he didn't, maybe he thought….

Before she could fully comprehend her mistake, he had raised himself in all his naked glory from the bed and had started collecting bits and pieces of cloth from the bedroom, following the trail from the hall to the sitting room.

"Jack, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…."

"I know what you meant. It doesn't matter. If that's how you feel, you can leave, and we'll act as if this never happened. After all, it was only a drunken mistake, right?" his voice was low and filled with barely disguised, seething anger. He pushed the clothes unceremoniously into her hands. Standing, frozen on the spot, she couldn't think of an answer. After a short silence, his piercing gaze slid from hers and he nodded.

"I'm taking a shower. I expect you to be gone when I'm done." With that, he strode into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

A tear slid down Sam's cheek as she surveyed the mess they had left behind around the couch. Jack's clothes were still littered here and there; champagne glasses and cake plates were on the floor. The cushions on the couch were rumpled and a flush rose in her cheeks as she recalled what they had done. A major mistake for both of them, perhaps, but she couldn't deny that in the bedroom department, Jack O'Neill definitely knew what he was doing.

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Under the spray of the shower, Jack tried his best to calm his anger. Until the second he had realised she regretted their actions last night, he had felt so happy. There really weren't any words to describe the feelings he had felt when he knew that Samantha Carter was his. Really his.

There were also no words to describe the disappointment that had come afterwards. As she had gazed steadily back at him, holding her clothing in the middle of his sitting room, he had felt his heart break. If he'd have been the sort of guy that cried, he'd have been sobbing his heart out by now. But he wasn't. And he didn't. He just clenched his fists in the water, knowing his life would never be exactly the same again. No matter how much he tried, he knew for a fact that he would never get over Sam. He loved her. Always had, from that very first smirk. And he probably always would. He just hoped he wouldn't start to hate her for it.

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She didn't think she'd cried so much in her life. Her heart seemed to be aching, but she had never fallen for Jack O'Neill, so what in the hell had happened? She sat on her own couch, tears streaming, and a bar of milk chocolate in her hand. But it was untouched. She wasn't even craving chocolate, and that had to be a bad sign.

It had taken her a while to admit it, but she was scared. Very scared. Being in love with Jack would be a problem. A major problem. He was in the same faculty, which would be embarrassing. He was her best friend (or had been, in any case), which would make it awkward. He was also well known for his sex-only relationships, his unwillingness to enter into any type of committed relationship, which would ultimately break her heart. Just like Malcolm had done countless times. If this one night stand hurt so much, she wasn't sure she'd be able to survive heartbreak if Jack O'Neill was the one that caused it.

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Next chapter will be up in a bit...