Chapter Three

Stepping into the smoky confines of the bar, Sam was amazed by the sight before her. As they'd approached the entrance to the tavern, she'd had her doubts about agreeing to come here tonight. The tiny, cramped streets were crammed with cars on both sides, making parking a nightmare. Instead of the bustling club scene she'd been expecting, Sam was faced with a mainly residential neighborhood in a blue-collar section of the city. Caleb had assured them that there really was a bar at the end of their five-block hike, but Sam hadn't entirely believed him until she'd stepped into the very unremarkable building.

Inside, a different world seemed to erupt in glorious, high-energy chaos. The smoke-filled room was practically bursting at the seams with people – mostly college students, by the looks of it. Loud, boisterous music blared from a jukebox in the corner, but was almost drowned out by the cacophony of a few hundred noisy conversations. The bar itself was almost impossible to see behind the teeming throng of revelers.

Caleb smiled and practically shouted to be heard over the noise. "My girlfriend works here. She always saves us a corner in the quiet corner of the room. It'll be easier to talk there, away from the jukebox."

Daniel nodded and gestured for the young man to lead the way. Thankfully, once they'd pushed their way across the crowded space, the noise did diminish noticeably and normal conversation could resume.

A few people tossed envious looks their way as the four of them crossed to a table where a few of Caleb's friends had saved them a seat. Space was at a premium here, and bar stools were reserved for those who'd arrived early.

Caleb introduced his friends and was about to brave the crowd to order drinks, when Jack held up his hand to stop him. "I'll get the first round," he said gamely. "After all, you're going to be helping us out tremendously tomorrow."

Caleb smiled. "Hey, thanks, man. Just stand down at this end of the bar and talk to the redhead – that's my girlfriend, Emma. She'll make sure you don't have to wait in line again. These crowds are crazy on Friday nights."

Daniel pulled off his coat and hung it over the back of his stool. "I'll help you," he said to Jack. "There's no way you're going to carry all those drinks by yourself."

Sam, who had already removed her parka, gestured for Daniel to sit. "I'll do it," she insisted. "You stay and talk shop with Caleb. I'm sure he'd like some advice on how to write grants or something." Sam's smile was warm, but the meaning behind her words was clear. They needed Caleb to be on friendly terms with the team if they hoped to work out a deal to see his father's artifact. Daniel's similar interests with the student were probably the best way to make that happen.

Understanding Sam's unspoken advice, Daniel nodded and took a seat beside the grad student. In a few moments, Sam and Jack were pushing their way across the room toward the crowded bar.

Once the pair were out of earshot, Caleb grinned and shook his head. "Man, I felt like a total ass earlier today," he said to Daniel, a knowing look in his eyes.

The archaeologist looked confused. "Why?" he asked, unable to pinpoint what the other man was talking about.

Caleb waved his hand. "You know, in the Streets of Old Milwaukee exhibit."

Daniel blinked. "What about it?"

The student looked at him incredulously. "Dude, we totally interrupted a tender moment between those two."

Laughing, Daniel shook his head. "I don't think so. They work together really closely, but military protocol makes their relationship strictly professional."

Caleb shook his head. "I don't know, man. From where I stood, it looked like they were inches away from locking lips when you interrupted." He winced. "And the look Colonel Jack gave me was more 'strictly murderous' than 'strictly professional' after we walked up to them."

Eyes widening, Daniel looked at Teal'c uncertainly. "Did you notice anything odd?"

Teal'c's sage expression spoke volumes. "I would agree with our young friend, Daniel Jackson. It did appear that an intimate moment was occurring between O'Neill and Major Carter when we approached."

Daniel winced. "Oh, crap," he muttered. "If you're right, Jack might not-so-accidentally shoot me on our next mission."

Caleb laughed at Daniel's comment. He had no idea that the archaeologist was only half-kidding.

When Sam and Jack finally returned with drinks, conversation had moved onto safer ground. Caleb's other friends were vastly entertained by Daniel's (highly-edited) stories of some of the team's past missions. Of course, all references to other planets were left out, and the team was often portrayed as pursuing 'ancient artifacts' instead of 'alien technology.' Goa'uld were transformed into smugglers, and alien landscapes were turned into remote Earth locations. But there was enough truth in the stories to provide an element of authenticity to them, particularly when Jack or Sam would chime in with laughter and supporting details.

Many drinks later, Caleb found himself smiling at his four new friends. "Wow, you guys have been through some serious bonding experiences together. You must be like family to each other by now, hey?"

A half-smile twitched onto Jack's chiseled features. "All the family I have," he replied quietly. Then, shaking off the somber mood, he lifted his dwindling glass of beer. "Looks like I need a refill," he said lightly. "Carter!"

Sam snapped to attention reflexively. "Sir?"

He grinned. "Think you can help me deliver another round?"

Rolling her eyes, she saluted. "Yes, sir." Then, turning to the others, she sighed loudly. "He can't do anything by himself."

"Better watch it, Carter," Jack quipped as he tugged her toward the bar, "or I'll make you eat Daniel's cooking on the next mission."

Shuddering, Sam allowed herself to be pulled away from their table, clutching the nearly-empty whiskey-sour she'd been sipping. As they elbowed their way to the bar, Sam downed the last of her drink with a flourish.

Jack observed her actions with a knowing smirk. "Having a good time here in Milwaukee?" he asked mildly.

Setting her now-empty rock glass down on the bar, Sam smiled faintly as the syrupy warmth of intoxication slithered into her bloodstream. "I am," she replied, relishing the freedom that the evening had afforded her. "You know," she said, turning to glimpse the ruggedly familiar features of the man beside her, "I think I'm a little tipsy."

Taking in her delightfully flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, Jack couldn't quite suppress an amused smile. "I'd say that's a pretty fair assessment." Her warm, somewhat unfocused expression was a 180-degree turnaround from her usual razor-sharp intensity.

Sensing his examination, Sam found herself slightly uncomfortable. "What is it?"

Jack's face was the picture of innocence. "What is what?"

She fixed him with a no-nonsense gaze. "You were looking at me strangely just now."

Shrugging, Jack decided no harm could come from telling the truth. "I'm just not used to seeing this side of you. It's kinda nice to see our straight-laced, by-the-book Major-Doctor Samantha Carter let her hair down a little."

Sam seemed to digest his words for a moment before responding. When she did, her words totally took him by surprise. "Actually, I can't really let my hair down," she said, gesturing to her fashionably short locks. "The whole 'military' thing always made me keep it short. Easier to deal with in the field," she explained off-handedly. "And I never really thought about it until I ran into my – uh – twin." Sam's somewhat clouded judgment was still active enough to keep her from speaking of the 'alternate reality' version of herself outright in a public place. By the flicker of understanding in her CO's eyes, she could see he'd picked up on her reference. "Anyway, since she wasn't military, I guess she chose to wear her hair long. It was sort-of startling, really – seeing my face with someone else's hair."

Jack nodded mutely, completely baffled as to what his response should be. Luckily, her rambling monologue didn't seem to require any verbal feedback.

"I'm not even sure why she'd choose to wear her hair long. Was it a personal decision? Or was she wearing it that way because-" she broke off suddenly, seeming to change her mind about her next statement. Blinking, she flushed slightly before picking up her earlier train of thought. "Anyway, I just wonder sometimes if I would have worn long hair if I'd decided to remain a civilian." She reached up and brushed the short, blond wisps at the base of her neck. "Some people think long hair is more feminine on a woman." Turning her large, soulful eyes to her mute companion, she seemed very concerned with her next question. "What do you think?"

Caught in the vulnerable, blue-eyed gaze she was sending him, Jack suddenly found himself unable to put together a coherent thought. "What? No," he stumbled lamely. "Don't be silly. Your hair is just fine." With those words, a disappointed, somewhat-stricken cast came over her features, making him feel like a complete heel. "I mean, your hair is really nice. Great, even." His awkward postscript sounded pathetic even to his own ears. Exhaling sharply, he realized he'd navigated mine fields less treacherous than this conversation. Setting his own drink down somewhat impatiently, he waited until she looked him in the eye before continuing. "Carter, listen to me. I'm clearly not going to win any prizes for my stellar delivery of compliments. But, I'm pretty sure you'd be beautiful whether you grew your hair to your knees or shaved it completely off." He paused for a moment at the picture he'd just painted. "Though I wouldn't recommend the latter if you're going for feminine."

Ignoring his dry humor altogether, Sam's eyes widened slightly. "You think I'm beautiful?" The question slipped past her mouth before her slightly-addled brain could stop it.

Sensing the nerves exposed by her question, Jack responded with quiet sincerity. "Of course I think you're beautiful." His mouth quirked up dryly as he continued. "Carter, almost everyone we know thinks you're beautiful – and the 'almost' is only there because the Asgard have rather weird aesthetic tastes."

Smiling self-consciously, Sam shook her head and looked at her shoes. "I was never 'the pretty one,' you know." Slowly, she forced herself to look back into his dark, steady gaze. When she did, the trust reflected in her expression was slightly unnerving. "I was always 'the smart one,'" she said softly.

Knowing he was treading into dangerous waters, Jack was nevertheless unable to turn away from the naked vulnerability in her eyes. "Seems to me, you're both." The husky quality of his voice was unintended, but further underscored the honesty of his words.

As tension sizzled across the smoky air between them, a nearby, loud, and rather inebriated voice broke into their silent communication.

"Hey! It's after midnight! Give your valentine a kiss!"

As the boisterous words filtered into Sam's alcohol-clouded brain, she couldn't help imagining for one, forbidden moment, what taking that particular piece of advice might mean. Earlier in the day, she actually thought such a fantasy might come true. Of course, she'd since realized that the whole episode had been a figment of her imagination. Jack O'Neill would never lose control of his military instincts in a public place – especially not when the only temptation was, well, her. She and her CO might share a close friendship, but she knew that kissing was not part of his plan for her.

Even if it was Valentine's day.

Closing her eyes, Sam tried to force reckless thoughts of kissing him from her head before they showed up on her face.

Unfortunately, her dulled reflexes weren't quite fast enough. Jack watched her wide, hazy blue eyes skitter electrically over his mouth with an expression of sheer longing. Inhaling sharply, he felt a shot of adrenaline explode through his bloodstream. Closing his eyes against the wild torrent of emotions her unguarded response had released, he tried to gain some control of the situation. He'd almost given in to his crazy urges earlier in the day. And now that his sobriety was at less than one-hundred percent, he had serious doubts about his ability to resist her. When he looked back into her unfocused expression, he forced himself to verbalize his concerns. "Not a good idea, Sam."

Oh hell. Sam swallowed, wondering how he seemed to be able to read her mind so easily. Still, after a moment's consideration, she didn't bother denying what they were both thinking. Instead, emboldened by the alcohol, she simply allowed herself to say exactly what was on her mind. "Don't you ever get tired of following the rules?" she asked, sounding almost desperate. "Sometimes, I think about how good it would feel to just let go and do what felt right."

Jack's heart was hammering in his chest. Her words hit far too close to his own thoughts for him to deny them outright. But the line they were currently treading was a dangerous one – and he had no idea if he could hold back his own torrent of unrestrained longing for very long, much less the sheer force of his and hers. "We both know what's at stake here."

Her eyes sobered at that statement, but after a brief moment of doubt, the determined glint returned to them. "What I know, Jack," she said, stressing the use of his first name, "is that we're less than an hour away from closing a bar that nobody at the SGC has ever heard of, much less visited. And I'm also pretty sure that the only people in this bar aware of the UCMJ's fraternization regulations are going to keep their mouths shut if two lonely officers share a simple Valentine's day kiss." The logic in her argument was sound, and was backed by the resolve which with it had been delivered.

Jack took a deep breath and opened his mouth to gently decline her offer, when it suddenly struck him what he was about to do.

Was he crazy?

In her somewhat-tipsy state, Sam had managed to grasp a golden opportunity – one he would have entirely ignored out of sheer, stubborn habit. In a bright moment of piercing clarity, he realized she was absolutely right. Tomorrow might bring them right back to square one, but only a fool passed up the opportunity to seize the prospect of sheer bliss while it could be had.

And Jack O'Neill was certainly no fool. At least, he wasn't tonight.

Before Sam could even begin to process what was happening, Jack's eyes darkened as his mouth swooped down to claim hers in a fiercely possessive embrace. Within the space of a heartbeat, passion fueled by years of repressed hunger erupted with unrestrained fury. As if of their own accord, Jack's hands reached up to gently cradle Sam's face, tenderly caressing the delicate skin of her jaw and cheekbones. In response, Sam's own arms snaked around his waist, reveling in the feel of him so close to her.

Across the bar, Caleb was avidly describing a recent dig proposal he'd been working on, when the young grad student suddenly stopped mid-sentence, grinning knowingly. "Hey, looks like I was right about your two friends after all," he said cheerfully, pointing toward the bar.

Daniel was about to ask for clarification, when he followed Caleb's gesture with his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks, jaw falling slack in utter shock.

Teal'c, crammed against the table by the press of people around him, was unable to see what the other men were looking at. "Daniel Jackson, is everything all right?" His voice held an unmistakable note of concern.

Still dazed, Daniel nodded numbly. "Yeah. It's just…" he trailed off, unable to believe what he was about to say. Tearing his eyes from the scene unfolding across the room, he looked at his friend with an expression of astonishment. "Sam and Jack are making out over there."

Teal'c's eyebrows shot upward. Suddenly not caring who he jostled, the large man pushed away from the table, ignoring the grumbled protests in his wake. When he was finally able to peer across the smoke-filled room, his eyes registered the same stunned disbelief reflected in Daniel's. Slowly, however, a deliberate half-smile crept onto the Jaffa's features. When he next spoke, his words were profound.

"It would appear we've all found what we were looking for on this trip."

Sam's head was swimming. The combined effects of a few whiskey-sours and one Colonel Jack O'Neill were enough to send her senses into overdrive. The feel of his warm, moist lips gliding eagerly over her own was exquisite. Seven years of restrained passion suddenly erupted in a blaze of explosive heat. Somewhere in the background, Sam was dimly aware of nearby patrons catcalling and whistling over their very public display of affection. In spite of her usually-reserved nature, she found she didn't care in the slightest.

To her dismay, she felt Jack's mouth slowly pulling away. Uncertainly, her eyelids fluttered open.

A pair of familiar, intensely dark eyes regarded her with enough heat to blister the paint from the walls. Moments ticked past as the pair stood millimeters apart, gazing silently into each other's eyes. Finally, with a slow, deliberate motion, Jack ran his thumb over her slightly-swollen lower lip.

Sam shivered reflexively. Her heart was pounding at an astonishing rate as a torrent of raw emotions tore through her. Could this really be happening? Or was this some kind of dream?

Well, she reasoned, real or not, she was going to hold onto the moment for as long as possible. Reaching up, she captured his hand in hers before leaning in for another sweltering kiss.

Jack's head was also quickly spinning out of control. He'd always known that holding the woman before him would be dangerous – but he'd never really understood how dangerous until this very moment. He found himself utterly unable to resist her sweet, passionate kisses. And, though he knew he was standing in the middle of a very public place, he discovered he didn't really care who was watching their intimate exchange. The feel of her mouth on his had suddenly become as urgent a need for him as breathing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Daniel and Teal'c were probably taking in the actions of their colleagues with slack-jawed shock. But that knowledge did absolutely nothing to curb his enthusiasm for the feel of Sam in his arms. He'd waited too damn long for this moment. He wasn't about to let go of her until he absolutely had to. And by his calculations, he had at least another thirty minutes before the bar would be closing.

It was going to be a delightfully pleasant half-hour.

Daniel blinked in astonishment as he stared across the hazy room. Caleb had long since gone and fetched their drinks, since it was obvious Sam and Jack were not going to be doing so.

Across the table, the young man grinned knowingly. "You're really blown away by that, aren't you?" he asked, gesturing toward the still-lip-locked pair now wedged in the corner where the bar met the wall.

Nodding, Daniel exchanged yet another dumbfounded look with Teal'c. The large warrior seemed to have accepted the turn of events with his usual unshakable composure. Daniel, however, found himself unable to duplicate his colleague's calm demeanor. Seeing his two dearest friends finally giving into their long-restrained feelings was both welcome and jarring. After so many years of watching the pair dance around their emotions, it was almost unbelievable to think they might finally come to some sort of resolution.

Caleb took another sip of his beer. "So, this is totally unexpected?" he asked bluntly.

Daniel shook his head, as if to clear the cobwebs lingering there. "What?" he asked, trying to focus on the younger man's words.

"Your friends," Caleb replied. "You weren't expecting this?"

Daniel exhaled slowly. "Well, I'm not sure I'd say that." He smiled in Teal'c's direction. "We've actually been expecting this for the last seven years. I guess I'm just surprised that it's finally happening here." He blinked. "At a bar. In Milwaukee."

Caleb laughed. "Well, it is Valentine's day," he pointed out cheerfully. "And with our particular brand of evil cold happening outside, what else are you going to do to stay warm?"

Teal'c's eyebrow shot up. "Then, perhaps the Wisconsin winter is not as unpleasant as it may seem."

Daniel laughed in spite of himself. Then, with another jolt of surprise, he made a second realization. Not only were Sam and Jack playing tonsil-hockey in one corner of the room, but now Teal'c had made a joke. Suddenly, the possibility of the universe coming to an end seemed closer than it had half-an-hour ago.

And it hadn't been all that far off to start with.

"Last call!"

The bartender's forceful announcement sliced unpleasantly through Sam's fuzzy, muddled brain. The last thirty minutes had passed in a dreamlike blend of kisses, heated looks, and tender caresses. She hadn't made out in a public place since college, but her lack of practice hadn't slowed her down in the slightest. She'd enjoyed every minute of these stolen moments, all too aware that they were sadly fleeting.

Reluctantly, Sam pulled away and examined Jack's rugged features carefully. In the last half-hour, she'd tenderly explored every contour of his face with her fingers, eager to memorize every texture, and terrified that she may never get another chance to do so. Now, she found his warm, dark eyes staring knowingly into her own.

Swallowing, Sam tried to think of something she could say at this point. She was fairly certain that tomorrow would bring a return to business as usual, and she was desperate to hold onto these brief moments for as long as she could. Still, in spite of her best efforts to put together something meaningful, she couldn't think of a single comment which didn't sound ridiculous or cliché.

Seeming to understand her sudden loss for words, Jack merely pulled her up against the solid wall of his chest, holding her in a fiercely tender embrace. Sam felt his lips brush the top of her head.

"Sam?" His voice was a low rumble, husky with emotion.

"What?" she asked softly, not able to will herself from his arms.

Inhaling deeply, Jack was overwhelmed by the light, breezy scent of her shampoo. He, too, was drawing a blank on conversation. Instead, he smiled into her hair, squeezed her gently, and said, "Happy Valentine's Day."

Feeling her throat thicken with emotions she dare not explore, Sam hugged him fiercely for one brief moment, then pulled away briskly. Looking into his eyes, she tried to communicate the tangled mess of emotions she was experiencing. "I'm going to hit the restroom before we leave," she rasped. Then, before her sentimental side got the best of her, she turned and practically fled to the ladies' room.

Jack exhaled shakily and ran a hand through his silver hair. There was absolutely no way he was going to be able to digest all that had happened in the last hour – at least not anytime soon – so he instead straightened his spine and turned back to the table where the rest of his friends were still seated.

Daniel saw Jack approaching with a carefully neutral expression carved on his face. Surprised that he was alone, Daniel hoped all was well. Since Caleb and his friends were currently absorbed in a conversation about an upcoming Bucks game, Daniel hoped he could have a few words alone with his friend. When Jack finally reached the table, the archaeologist raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Jack saw his friend's look and nodded absently toward the restrooms. "She'll be right back," he said quietly. Then, still looking remarkably sharp for someone who'd been pretty much out-of-commission for the better part of an hour, Jack straightened and regarded Daniel intently. "I'm sure it's fairly obvious that Carter's had a little too much to drink tonight."

Daniel couldn't quite restrain a smile at that comment. "You don't say," he replied sarcastically.

Ignoring the barb, Jack pushed ahead, anxious to finish his thought. "When we get back to the hotel, you need to make sure she gets back to her room safely."

Daniel blinked. "Okay," he agreed easily, "but is there some reason you need me to look after her?"

A faint smile flitted over Jack's features. "Because if I walk Sam to her room tonight, I'm fairly certain I'll still be there in the morning."

Coughing on the last sip of his drink, Daniel was taken aback by Jack's blunt assessment. "Ah," he choked out, "I see." Then, as his initial embarrassment wore off, a shrewd look crossed his face. "So, would I be out of line asking why that would be such a bad thing?"

Jack inhaled slowly and looked absently into the distance. "Well, to start with, we've already covered that Sam's had too much to drink. Secondly, there's the whole career fiasco to think about. And, of course, with the fate of the universe hanging in the balance, I figure the timing might be a little off."

Daniel chose his next words carefully. "I suppose it wouldn't do any good to point out that I don't think Sam's sobriety is really an issue here." He smiled. They both knew that it wasn't alcohol which had pushed Carter into her CO's arms that night. Continuing, Daniel felt his confidence rise. "Or that, even if the military thing turned out to be completely insurmountable – which I'm not convinced it is," he added pointedly before continuing, "both of you could continue your present jobs in a purely civilian capacity. After all," he reasoned, "I'm a civilian, and I'm still a member of the team." Then, he smiled humorlessly. "And if you're waiting for the universe to stop teetering on the brink of destruction for the timing to be right, you might as well give up now. In our line of work, there will always be one more reason to postpone our personal lives." Suddenly, his face sobered. "And take it from me, Jack, time is limited."

Ruffling his hair in an act of sheer frustration, Jack digested his friend's words silently for a moment. "I know that, Daniel. But there can't be any regrets," he said simply. "Until I can be sure of that, I need to think more and act less."

Daniel stared at him levelly. "I hope you don't think tomorrow can go back to the status quo," he said simply. "This changes things for her. A lot."

Jack snorted inelegantly. "Not just for her, Danny-Boy."

The archaeologist took in the range of emotions flickering across the older man's face. "Just don't hurt her," he said quietly.

Jack's face curled into a bitter smile. He looked Daniel in the eye for a moment, and then spoke levelly. "As soon as Carter's out of the bathroom, we should hike back to the car. It's damn cold outside."

Daniel sighed inwardly. He had a feeling it was going to get colder before it got warmer.