His touch was gentle yet certain, brushing across the planes of her belly, tracking down the line of her side. And it had been so long - far, far too long. Her flesh, her skin… everything… grown so sensitive in their longing for the feel of him that even the lightest caress sent need arcing through her, desire coiling inside her like a living thing. One hand found her hip, clasping her waist and lifting her slightly while the other slipped between her legs. The lightest pressure upon the soft flesh of her thigh was the only invitation she needed, and she opened herself to him.

Long fingers swept higher, finding the soft curls between her legs, threading through them to find her softest flesh buried within. He traced her opening and she could feel her moisture wash over his hand. She shuddered under his touch, consumed by the force of her own need.

"Jack… please." It was barely more than a moan, but he looked up, brown eyes grown dark with passion staring straight into hers as he smiled his understanding. One finger slipped inside her, and she arched up to meet him. "God… Jack…"

He stroked her slowly, fingers moving deep inside her. "That's it, Sam. Let it go, Carter…" he murmured. Her head fell back and she moaned, losing herself completely in the feel of his touch. Then - abruptly - his tone changed, jarring her out of her reverie. "Carter? Colonel Carter?"

The pencil gripped in his fingers stopped drumming on the pad in front of him. Sam tore her gaze up to General O'Neill's face watching her from across the conference room table. "J… General O'Neill?"

His eyes danced with amusement and a hint of something else as he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a knowing grin, "Colonel Carter?"

She glanced around the table at the others sitting in the SGC conference room - General Landry trying his best not to notice, Mr. Woolsey looking slightly confused, and the other members of the IOA looking merely bored. Which, as that was how they always appeared to her, meant very little. She looked back to Jack. "Oh… Uhm… Sorry, Sir. What was that?"

"Atlantis requisitions, Colonel? Do you have anything to add to what you've submitted before we move on to more important business?"

She swallowed, allowing herself a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. Atlantis. Requisitions. Right. There was something… Something involving potatoes, though for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was at the moment. But she certainly wasn't going to try explaining that to the room. "Uh... No, Sir. That's it."

Jack's mouth twitched, his smile growing almost imperceptibly wider. Imperceptibly more smug. She was going to have to remember to get back at him for that later. After he'd completed what he'd started in her fantasy, of course.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

His hands fumbled with the buttons on her pants. "Oh… For cryin' out loud…"

She would have laughed if she hadn't been every bit as frustrated herself. "Here.. Let me…" She reached down to help him undo her pants, balancing herself with a hand on his shoulder as she bent down to pull them down and off.

As she straightened back up, her head bumped into his chest. "Oh… Sorry.." he apologized as he stepped backwards - straight into the mop and broom leaning against the wall behind him. 'Crap!"

Laughing now despite everything, she reached round, catching the items and setting them upright before they could clatter to the floor. "Well," she explained, "the janitorial closet wasn't exactly designed for this, you know."

"A flaw in the design we should fix, then…." But he was already unbuttoning his own uniform trousers, and she really didn't care about fixing anything.

She helped him push them down, followed quickly by his underwear. "Yeah, later," she agreed, reaching into the small space between them as he sprang free of his clothing.

"Oh… God…" he moaned as she stroked him. Grasping her shoulders, he pushed her back against the wall and stepped forward to close the gap between them.

She shifted, parting her legs to give him better access and needing no further encouragement, he slipped between her thighs. The friction against her sensitized flesh alone nearly undid her but then he was thrusting forward, filling her in one smooth effortless motion and she was finished almost before she'd begun. Her knees buckled; she clasped her arms around his neck for support and screamed his name silently against his neck.

But he wasn't finished. He continued to thrust, keeping her upright and pressed against the wall as his body moved against hers. And it felt so good having him in her arms again and being in his. Having him inside her again and around her. Having him hers.

She came again, this time more gently than the first, but more completely. Her body convulsing around him, feeling every stroke as he moved deep inside her. Then afterwards, every muscle relaxed, she collapsed against his chest, his arms clutching her close her only support.

He must have finished himself because as reason returned she realized he'd stopped moving and, still holding her against him, stepped back from the wall. She tilted her head up to his, smiling as she kissed him lightly on the lips. "Hi, Jack."

"Hi, Sam." He smiled back down at her, a rare Jack smile that lit his entire face. "Miss me?"

She snorted. "Hardly."

And then, both laughing, they gathered their discarded clothing up off the floor and helped make each other presentable again. Before opening the closet door, he turned to her. "Ready?" he asked.

Their thirty minute lunch break was nearly over and they both knew it. They had to get back to the meeting, after which she was Atlantis bound for another who-knows-how-many months. "No," she replied, suddenly serious again.

"Me neither," he agreed. But it didn't matter. And they both knew that, too. So, after a final quick kiss, he opened the door and checked to make sure the passageway was clear. Then, together, they stepped out into the hall and headed back to the SGC conference room.