A/N: And here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for, the chapter of SHIPPING! Woohoo! Bit longer than the last few as well. Anyway, there's definitely something-for-everyone-a-comedy-tonight in here, and you don't even hafta squint to find it! Score!

A/N2: Apparently I offended a few people with the pranks Sam's been pulling. People have said that she's taking it too far, that she's being vindictive, that she's being horrible to him for no reason. What I say is, that's not what I meant, and if you take it all at face value it's really not that mean, she put itching powder in his bed for God's sake. Not really the worst prank I can think of. And I also clearly stated that he knows what she's doing, and letting her do it anyway because he wants her to have fun. It's all in there. Anyway. Don't like, don't read. 'Nuff said.

A/N3: Thank you to Briar Elwood, Whirlwind-2005, Flatkatsi, and Karma-k2 for reviewing chapter 4!

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It's the last day of our short vacation, and for some reason I'm actually not glad to be getting back to my work. I mean, I'm glad, but these last few days of pranking Colonel O'Neill have been really fun. I sigh in regret. As soon as we get back to the base, I won't be able to do anything to him. At least, nothing permanent. Or smelly. Dammit.

I'm sort of starting to get a sneaking suspicion that he knew I was going to try to get back at him, and that I would have fun doing it. In fact, I'm pretty sure he did know, because I noticed in the glovebox of his car some anti-itching cream that definitely wasn't there the last time he gave me a ride to the base. Hmm. Veery interesting . . .

"Carter! Help!"

I turn to the window and look outside, just in time to see Colonel O'Neill running for his life down the trail. Looking behind him, I see a swarm of very angry-looking bees following close behind.

Evil grin.

Stage Four has begun. Right on schedule, too, I note as I look at my watch. There'll be just enough time after this one to thoroughly confuse him with the romantic dinner I've got planned.

He's running in circles now, trying to stay ahead of the flying devils, screeching his head off for help. I move to the window, making sure the screen is firmly in place, and shout at him, "Jump in the pond!"

He spares a glance in my direction, and I'm sure he thinks I'm completely nuts. Hey, it's been said before, it'll be said again.

"Just do it sir, they won't be able to go in after you and sooner or later they'll go away!"

Apparently he's desperate enough, because on his next circuit he heads directly for the pier. Doing a wonderful cannonball that would have got a perfect 10 from any self-respecting judge, he sends a kawoosh of water up in the air, and at least half of the bees are caught in the splash. The rest, seeing what happened to their brethren, quickly decide that it's not really worth it, and buzz off.

Smirking widely, I walk outside, after first disposing carefully of the anti-bee-repellent my brother invented years ago. It's some sort of combination of honey and bee pheremones, I'm not sure of the exact ingredients, but apparently it works.

Since the only indication that the Colonel is underwater is the small stream of bubbles emanating from somewhere in the nether regions of the pond, I pick up a small rock and heave it gently into the pond.

This inspires a series of much larger bubbles coming from the submerged figure of my commander, and after another two (slightly heavier) rocks follow the first, he comes up, sputtering and rubbing his head. Oops. Guess I hit him. What a shame.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!" he yelps, thrashing about to get back to the pier.

I shrug nonchalantly and answer, "The bees are gone, I thought you might want to know that is all."

"So you felt the need to tell me with rocks!"

I grin impishly. "Thought it might get the point across."

He gives me the "no, really?" look and clambers out. He squelches over to the cabin, not even bothering to wipe his feet, and heads straight to the bathroom.

I wonder what he'll think when he finds a complete set of clean, dry clothes in there waiting for him?

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After spending an hour in the shower, he finally emerges. This time his hair's already dry. I wondered where my blow-dryer had got to . . . anyway, he looks a bit happier than when I saw him last, a look which increases as he smells what's in the kitchen. He comes closer, sniffing hopefully, but I brandish my spatula and he backs off.

"Um . . ." he starts, craning his neck to see what's on the stove. "What's cookin', Carter?"

"Something good that you won't get any of if you don't stay in your room until I tell you to come out," I threaten. Poking him with the aforementioned cooking implement, I herd him into his room and start to close the door on him. He blocks it with his foot.

I glare up at him and he shrinks.

"I was just wondering how long I'd hafta stay in here," he says in a small voice.

I smile insolently. "As long as it takes you to pick the lock," I say as I shut the door, locking it securely from the outside. Apparently it takes a minute for this to register, but then I hear the pounding begin.

"That'll just make you go hungry sir," I call to him, walking back to the kitchen. "Oh, and don't bother trying the window, it's sealed shut."

Hearing expletives from the other side of the door, I start to whistle and continue cooking.

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After a while he quiets down. He's probably thought to look for something to pick the lock with. Too bad his lock-picking set has gone . . . ahem . . . missing. So have all the bobby pins, pens, safety pins, and paper clips I could find while I was rummaging around in his room. Oh well.

"Car . . . uh . . . Sam? Feel like letting me out?" I hear a voice call. Without turning, I yell back, "Do you want me to finish dinner or not?"

He shuts up.

My respite is short-lived, however, as he starts getting creative.

"Hey Carter!"

I roll my eyes.

"What, sir?"

"I gotta pee!"

I laugh. "You're telling me that you spent over an hour in the bathroom and you still have to pee? Try again, sir."

He doesn't. Luckily he's learned, over the years, that the way to get me to do something fast is to leave me the hell alone. So he can be taught. Good.

After I finish the preparation and plattering, I dust off my hands and look around to see if there's anything I've forgotten. Food, check. Candles, check. Firelight, check. Champagne, check. Oh! That was it.

I rush to my room to change. Less than a minute later, I reappear, putting on my earrings. I step across the hall and unlock the door. No response from inside.

I knock. "Jack? You ready for dinner?"

I hear movement. A minute later, an annoyed-looking Colonel Jack O'Neill opens the door . . .

. . . and the confusion (a.k.a. Stage Five) sets in.

His jaw drops farther than I would have thought possible, and he starts making little moaning sounds. I wonder if it's the dress. Hm. Wouldn't have pegged him as a halter-top guy. Go figure.

I step back so he can come out. He's wearing the clothes I left out for him (yay) and I was right about the khakis, they're just . . . him. The black long-sleeve shirt works quite well too. I think I must be grinning stupidly again, but since he is too, neither of us cares. He gulps, then remembers his manners and offers me his arm.

"Shall we?"

I nod and link my arm gracefully with his. We walk out to the living room, where the coffee table is lighted with candles is set for two. Gesturing for him to sit down, I move to the kitchen to get the food.

When I come out with it, his eyes widen even further. I resist the urge to tell him he looks sort of like what we're eating.

"You made . . . oh god . . . you made," he stammers, then gets up as I put the platter down. "I may have to marry you," he says reverantly.

I laugh. "I'd be okay with that," I start to say, but am unable to finish as I'm pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

"Uh, Jack? Air?" I squeak, and he lets go.

"Sorry. It's just . . . wow . . . I mean . . . you made gefilte fish."

I blush. "Yeah, I didn't know if you liked it or not . . ." I trail off. He's looking at me funny again.

"Carter, I was raised in Minnesota. You get shot if you don't like gefilte fish."

"Yeah I sorta figured."

He pulls me down to sit next to him on the couch, still smiling like an idiot. We eat the fish, which is actually quite good, although definitely an acquired taste. After dinner we sit and watch the fire in silence, just happy to be with each other.

As the fire dies out I look up. He's fallen asleep, his head lolling on his shoulder. I carefully reach down to the other end of the couch, trying not to wake him, and grab the quilt that's folded on the arm. Pulling it over the two of us, I settle down against his chest. His arm moves to hold me, although I think he's still asleep.

I'm as completely happy as I've ever been, but I know that this won't last. Tomorrow we'll have to go back to the base, and we'll be back to "Major" and "Colonel" instead of just Sam and Jack. I wonder how many more of these moments we'll have.

"Sam?" a sleepy voice murmers.

"I'm here Jack." I whisper.

"Good. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You know I love you, right?"

Keep smiling. Believe it'll last. "I know, Jack."

"And you love me?"

"Always and forever."

Pause.

"Will you wait for me?"

Slightly confused, I nod.

"I mean, will you wait for me to resign so we can be together?"

Ah. I see. Smile again. Maybe it will last.

"I will always wait for you."

"It might take a while," he cautions.

"I don't care. I'll wait."

I can feel him nod, and can tell that he's relieved.

I have to ask. "Will you wait for me?"

I know he's frowning confusedly.

"Yeah, of course I'll wait for you. I'll wait for as long as it takes."

"Good." I get up. "Then I'll be right back."

He smiles at me. "I'll be here."

And I know that it's all true.

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A/N: -sniffles- oh gawd there I go again . . . -grabs near-empty box of tissues- Okay I'm all right now. Sort of. Just to clarify, there will be an epilogue for this, hopefully up in the next coupla days. Anyway, this chapter should satisfy all you Sam/Jack shippers out there (you know who you are) and if it doesn't, then you're still reading too much into it. It's all there. Just let it come out.