Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I don't own Stargate, I don't own my house, I don't own my car, I don't own my pants. Where…are my pants? Where…is my car…? Oh shit..not again…VALA!
Warning: Sexual Content…I repeat graphic Sexual Content. There will be scenes and they will probably be graphic. Lemons and Limes are my kind of fruit, and if you ain't cool with that turn around now.
AN: Thank you to Lilferret for her beta skills.
Chapter 3 – Adapting
Samantha Carter closed her eyes in the isolation room of the SGC, but when she opened them again she was in the beautiful woods of Minnesota, the cool morning air washing against her skin. She noticed she was standing in snow, her bare feet sinking into the soft slush, and the heat from her immediately began to soften it. She might normally have been cold, but she didn't feel any chill in the slightest. She had surely taken for granted the fell of open air when it had found her at last.
She breathed in slowly, not realizing until now, quite how long she had been locked there. How long she had been trapped there and poked and prodded and subjected to the world where she was nothing more then an object to be tinkered with. Her silence-numbed brain was pushed into by the sound of Jack's voice. "Are you going to just stand there in the snow, or are you going to come inside?"
"In a minute," she whispered, feeling the cold winter wind send shivers up her spine for the first time in so long. She remembered it like another lifetime ago. Something completely far away. The slush melting between her toes and cooling her flesh deliciously.
Jack's boots crunched in the cold slush as he walked back to her side. He watched her flushed skin seem to turn to normal, seem to glow a sweet white but no longer flushed with overheated capillaries. He watched her shoulders tense with realization and her eyes pop open. She looked around, taking in their surroundings with a hint of urgency. "There are no neighbors for acres. No one will see anything unusual, even at night. There isn't anything to worry about."
She let out a little smile and a laugh. He seemed to know just what she was thinking and that scared her just a little. Just a little; because he never seemed to show any sign of knowing how much she cared about him.
Sam didn't mind when Jack left her alone. He disappeared with a flimsy excuse of taking care of paperwork. She walked into the open cabin, the windows open and the screens only holding back the wilderness at each doorway. The house had taken on the crisp, peaceful cool of the outdoors and Sam smiled at the General's consideration of her temperature.
The house was simple but comfortable. She explored slowly, enjoying the feel of her damp bare feet on the glazed wood. It was a very satisfying cold. The open living room lead into the kitchen, air shared, and she could imagine how nice it would be to smell something cooking from the comfortable couch.
She slipped down the hallway. The guestroom was more of an office, and Jack sat quietly at the desk, the quiet sound of typing drifting through the small room. There was a futon in the corner, a single pillow and two blankets on the end of the seat. "I won't need the blankets," she commented softly, but Jack didn't jump. He knew she was there the whole time.
"They aren't for you. Your stuff is already in your room," he explained calmly as he hit print and the machine hummed to life. Behind her was a large bathroom, and just to the left an open door with the two bags she recognized as her own just inside the threshold. She smiled softly at the simple room. The colors where earthen and strong. Completely masculine and yet somehow the entire room was warm and inviting. It smelled like Jack, a soft warm scent that was always him. Woodsy and strong. It relaxed her just a little bit, as she looked down at the large comfortable looking bed and longed to just sink into it. To wallow into it and live out the rest of her existence in comfortable silence. She let her eyes close as she felt the bubbling inside her subside. She felt peaceful and happy all at once, content and calm.
She was brought back from her thoughts with the sound of Jack's footsteps behind her. She turned and he gave her a little smile. "Pizza or Chinese?" he asked, as if there were no other food groups in the world.
"Chinese please," she responded with a contented sigh. "If it's alright with you I think I'll take a shower first."
"Anything you want, Carter; this is your home for now," he said with a smile and turned back toward the kitchen.
The woman reveled in the privacy as she happily found all the toiletries she could possibly need in a small bag.
Sam stood under the running cold water for several long minutes, her body cooling down for the first time in a long time. There had been nothing but military showers, short and to the point, and not all the time, it being difficult to get time alone in the shower. There was also the difficulty that it had to be alone. Although if she exploded the flames wouldn't hurt someone physically, somehow a selective choice in Sam's mind, it did have a tendency to flash boil water and she would undoubtedly end up burning someone while they were innocently enjoying some shower time.
She washed every inch, shaved her legs, and made herself feel like a human being again. She dried herself off and even covered her smooth skin in soft lotion before wrapping herself in a towel and heading to her room. Thankfully, either Cassie had been informed of her condition, or the girl had forgotten that this was winter. There was a soft short sundress that was light and delicate enough to help her stay cool and she slipped it on without hesitation. She sighed happily and walked back out to the living room, the smell of Chinese food warm and sinfully delicious to someone who'd only been subjected to the taste of military mess hall food. And despite her love of blue jell-o, no one seemed to remember to save her some.
Jack peeked up and smiled to himself. She looked so much better like this. Showered and taken care of, released to freedom and not to mention the fact that her body was covered with a beautiful flowing fabric. He was overwhelmed with the temptation to touch her, touch the slippery silkiness of her skin and the fabric. Feel its heat and feel it under his touch. He could see a slight blush in her face and a smile cross her face and that was the only warning he got.
Just in a moment, she felt normal, felt like a human being, the pressure of keeping herself bottled up for more than 48 hours popping at his alluring smile. She felt arousal rush through her at the feeling of walking into the kitchen and seeing him in nothing but jeans and a T-shirt, preparing dinner. Something about being in such casual dress spiked a rustle of emotion and that ignited her. It was white hot but not quite painful, rippling through her with violent power. Her skin began to glow and her body shivered with pleasure just before her skin shivered with slight pain and her hands gripped the countertop hard.
Jack watched her eyes close tight, her face skewed slightly as the fire ripped through her and he was reminded of the reason they were there. Despite all his cravings to be here with her alone, relaxed without work and enjoying one another's company, he hated that it was all because she needed a place to be away from those who ignored her humanity.
He watched with a sick twist in his stomach. The fiery glow from her body illuminated the dress till it was translucent. The glowing skin looked ethereal and beautiful right in front of him and he felt guilty that he was admiring her beauty like a leering peeping Tom while she was overheating to the point of pain. He still couldn't ignore it though. A physical reaction came to his body when her lips opened in a soft panting breath and she burned with a strangely intense red light. As the light dissipated, her skin returning to its beautifully pale normal state, he noticed her body slump in exhaustion. The bursts must use up so much energy; he again felt a pang of guilt for enjoying the curves of her body in such a personal moment.
Then he saw her shy smile, and the still bright blush of red across her face, and for a moment wondered what triggered it. He thought they had said emotions triggered it, but what could she have been feeling that made her embarrassed, and that she could feel at seeing him. He'd file that question away for later.
"Sorry," she said in a stumble, her voice shuddering in her chest.
"You should be," Jack quipped, but he had his humor firmly in place. He pointed at the bubbling glass on the counter. "That was a perfectly good beer."
Sam couldn't help but laugh, a little smile erupting across her features. God was he sweet sometimes, and he didn't even seem to know it. She walked forward, her legs feeling a little like jelly but her will to stay upright and straight was very strong. She didn't want anyone to see her weakness, much less Jack O'Neill. Her body shivered in the coolness of the room. Although Jack had shut the house up he still wore thick clothes, and her cool dress let her feel the winter chill and it was wonderful.
She slinked over to the counter with a small smile and tried to push down the utter humiliation of blowing up back down in her gut. God. She couldn't imagine doing this for the rest of her life. She couldn't imagine blowing up and feeling that twisting burning sensation. She didn't think she could handle everyone knowing what she was feeling. She couldn't handle it being written all over her like this. She waited for the artificial flashed heat of her explosion to dissipate. The bubbling beer calmed down easily to room temperature again and the plate with her food toned down to an acceptable level.
Jack watched her as he noticed her shoulders sag and her muscles weaken. She looked tired all of a sudden. He followed her steps to the living room, watching her sink into the couch and decided he should give her a little space. He sunk into the plush, comfortable carpet at her feet and flipped on the television. They ate in lazy silence, something natural and comfortable about the moment. Sam slid her empty plate onto the table after not too long, having shoveled it into her mouth quickly. She slid down slowly, her body going slightly limp as she stretched out across the soft carpet. She tucked her head on her hands and let out a soft sigh as her front side sunk into the floor.
He could see her soreness in the way she moved, in the subtle popping of her back bones and the way her cute little ass moved to get comfortable. Oh yes, Jack was enjoying this view. He was enjoying the sight of her long, smooth legs right next to him. He had the sudden image of those limbs wrapped tightly around him, hooked at the end of his backbone as he plunged into her, again and again. Those lovely little slips of skin begging for him. Those limbs tugging and grabbing. He held back the groan as he felt his pants tighten, yet again. Maybe being here with her alone wasn't such a good idea. Maybe being here was just torture for him.
He crept forward slowly, feeling a bit of daring come over him, something about seeing those long legs with coffee colored freckles splattered across her fine flesh as they grew to the juncture that was hidden behind her skirt. He loved how it was just slightly ridden up on her thighs, showing a little more flesh.
God it was torture, the pounding of his heart and the fear he felt bubbling in his belly. Years of waiting for this. Years of telling himself he would never touch her. Years of wanting to feel her and she was right there. He played over his strategy in his head: what he would say if she resisted, what he could say if she threw herself in his arms and said those three wonderful heart-racing words. His wide, strong, callused fingers descended slowly onto the thin fabric over her back with gentle pressure. He began to rub slowly. He knew the perfect pressure, because after so many years he knew what she liked without every really having touched her. He had seen her rubbing her own neck, pushing out the knots and he had felt her yielding skin under his touch before. Checking for injuries of course. This time however, he would touch her.
It made his heart race a little when he felt the very real sensation of her skin jump under his sudden touch. But she said nothing and she didn't pull away. Her muscles slowly relaxed and he let his touch become more tender. He felt the tension ease, her body become soft and supple under his hands. He heard a soft delicate moan ease from her throat as she relaxed under his touch. Her muscles relaxed and he found himself lost in the sensation of touching her. He tried not to think about it, but it simply wasn't possible. He felt his blood rush lower and let his eyes trail across the soft coffee freckles on her back. The dress was even a little low in the back, and that wasn't something he needed to see at the moment.
That was when he noticed that the woman underneath him was breathing more smoothly, breathing softly and steady; she was asleep. Part of him knew that it wasn't his touch, but rather the recent explosion that had tuckered her out, but he liked to think he had relaxed her quite well. There was a small smile across his features as he sat there; he didn't move. This woman, this beautiful creature would be the end of him, yet he never wanted to stop touching her. Never wanted to lose her.
Sam felt herself yawn, her skin sweating and her dress sticking to her. She opened her eyes, slowly sitting up. It was dark out, the night sky thick with moonlight as she squinted out the window. Hadn't it just been morning? Damn. She'd slept all day, and the truth was she was still exhausted. Exploding sometimes made her entire body feel like she had been fighting in an enemy camp for days. She was aching and sore. She then remembered the most delicious touch she had ever felt. Just moments before falling asleep someone had touched her back. Someone had rubbed her muscles and soothed her enough to let the sleep pull her down.
Oh god. Jack had finally touched her. Voluntarily, without persuasion, touched her and for the love of god she had fallen asleep. She felt the embarrassment rush through her with a sudden, terrible sensation. Man oh man did this suck. She felt like she was burning up and the room even seemed dimly light from the glow of her skin. She growled at herself and yanked the dress off over her head. She threw the stupid flimsy fabric to the floor and kicked off her covers plopping herself back onto the mattress.
Damn it! When did she get in her bedroom? She groaned at the slight frustration. She was so hot. She was burning with the anger at herself for letting the opportunity pass and she was burning with the sensation that his hands left on her skin. She wanted him to touch her like that again, without clothes on. She was desperate for him, but her body tugged at her mind. She was still tired, it told her. She was still spent and she was burning up inside her own body. So she relented, letting her now naked skin soak up the cold of the slight winter air inside the cabin. She let the covers fall to the floor where she kicked them off, and yet it didn't let her body cool, due to the still soft glow of embarrassment flushed across her skin.
Daniel's shoulder slammed hard into the airman in the hallway, his eyes glancing up for just a second as he saw and acknowledged the other man. "Sorry Ferretti," he mumbled in passing, pushing forward faster. His heart was racing with something, fear, excitement, both? He really wasn't sure but that wasn't going to stop him, nor was the dirty look from his longtime coworker as he rushed by. He wasn't sure if this was good news, or bad news, but it was something that Jack and Sam needed to know and he needed to tell them in person.
General Jack O'Neill had always seen the advantages of waking up early. It was quiet and there were fewer people to disturb him. No one called. And more over his body was simply used to these hours. However this morning, as he stood in the open doorway to the master bedroom of his cabin, frozen, he thanked God for the tendency to wake up early.
There before him, stretched out lazily on his bed, in his cabin, was a very naked, very beautiful, fantastically glowing Samantha Carter. The morning light had just begun to filter in through the window but that didn't matter. The woman in the center of the room was much more brilliant than the light. Her hair seemed to sparkle in the white light created inside it and she smiled softly in her sleep. She had a slight sheen of sweat across her flesh, despite the chill in the air. Her pale beautiful skin was everywhere and her body was in no way hidden.
For the slightest moment Jack knew he should look away, but that was a thought he could only bare to entertain for so long.
She was delicious. Her perfect breasts, long slender legs, strong lean body relaxed as she lay sleeping. He wanted to trail his tongue over every inch of her, from her puckered belly button to her toes and back again. He wondered how her nipples tasted, the heat of them, the weight of her breasts. He wondered how her lips tasted, slightly open, begging for something. Begging for him, he hoped.
The blood rushed from his brain to between his legs in a sudden swell of lust he knew he had to stop. He had to stop before he crawled into that bed and made love to her whether she liked it or not. God was she gorgeous, the swell of her hips looked perfect to his hand. He wanted so badly to spread her legs and delve in between them. To taste her for all he was worth. To hear her scream and moan and wiggle beneath him. What he wouldn't give to just jump onto that bed right then.
But he couldn't even do that. His eyes trailed across the detail of her well-illuminated body and could not avoid seeing the scars. All of them. The long jagged marks left on her beautiful skin by the explosions when she couldn't control them enough. She told him they hurt less now when they didn't break the skin but the physical evidence of what they had done to her was still there. Heat that had destroyed her perfection; her innocence.
He couldn't bring himself to run. He was completely frozen in the cool morning air. She was vulnerable. She was at a point where nothing made sense and her life was on hold, perhaps indefinitely. He couldn't take advantage of her; he couldn't just be there for her once. He would have to leave his primal animal male urges locked away for now. He wanted that naked body in his bed every morning. That is why he forced himself to close the door.