Chapter 2 - In Person

Sam read the note twice more. Here it was, everything she'd dreamed he'd say to her. She laughed to compare the two compositions: her analytical breakdown of the song, versus his heartfelt motivation for choosing it. So different, and yet, so "complimentary," as she'd said in her notes. She wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes again. She knew she had to call him now, and she didn't want to look like a mess if they were going to meet and somehow talk through all this.

Sam got up and walked over to the phone. Resolutely, she picked up the cordless and dialed Jack's cell phone. She paced nervously as it rang. She was debating whether or not she could leave a message if his voicemail picked up, when he suddenly answered.

" - Eill," he cleared his throat, "O'Neill," he said.

"I'm sorry, sir, did I wake you?" asked Sam. It was just after noon now, and she'd thought he'd dropped the package at her house himself.

"Carter! No, I mean, I must have dozed off... What's up?"

Sam felt her courage slipping away, so she charged ahead before it left her altogether. "Um, did you send me a package today, sir?" she probed.

"Yeah," said Jack. After a while, he asked, "did you read it?"

"I did," she replied, then paused before she added, "and I'd like to talk about it, if we can." She closed her eyes, dreading whatever response he'd give her. He may have reconsidered... or he might want to come right over.

Jack didn't answer right away. At last, he asked, "Is it alright if I come in?"

Come in? Don't you mean come over, thought Sam. "You mean come over?" she asked aloud.

"No, actually, I fell asleep in my truck outside your house, hoping you'd call."

Oh. "Oh." He's here already! Sam looked herself over, wondering if she should change. A sweatshirt, blue jeans, some tennis shoes. Then, she almost laughed out loud, remembering her glamorous outfit as "Thera." "Sure, sir, that's fine."

"Okay," he said. She could hear him unbuckling his seatbelt. "I guess I'll see you in a few, then."

"Right. Bye," Sam said, hanging up the phone. She took a quick look out of her front window to see if she could spot the truck she must have missed earlier when she'd come to the door. There it was. He'd parked two houses down the street. She could see the driver's door opening now. Turning back to the living room, she made a quick visual sweep to make sure everything was in order. It was certainly clean, after her spree earlier that morning. She turned off the stereo, slipped the CD's jewel case back in the envelope, and tossed it on the kitchen counter. His note she folded back up and stuck in her notepad, flipping it closed over her remarks. She left it on the table, in case she worked up the nerve to show him what she'd written.

Just as she was finishing, she heard a knock on her door. She took a calming breath, then opened it. He was standing in the snow, without a hat, wearing a jacket over a button-down shirt and black jeans. Sam thought she'd felt "in love" before, but seeing him here, now that she'd read his heartfelt confessions, took her breath away. She managed to stand aside to let him in the house, closing the door after him.

He seemed calm, as he stood in her living room brushing some snowflakes off of his leather jacket. "Hi," he said at last.

"Hi," Sam replied, and then she saw it. He was trying to act composed, but his eyes gave him away. He was desperately scanning her face, trying to determine which way this conversation was going to go. Sam realized, as far as he knew, her curiosity could have just gotten the better of her, and she'd asked him here to try and let him down easy. Realizing she'd have to get into it sooner or later, she picked up her notepad, and gestured to the couch. "Would you like a seat? Can I get you anything? Beer?"

"Water'd be good, thanks," Jack said. "Need some help?"

"No, thanks, I'll be right back." Sam turned quickly to the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses of water. Jack eventually moved over to the couch and shrugged out of his jacket. He tossed it over the arm of the sofa as he waited.

After a few moments, Sam came back in with the glasses. "Here you go, sir," she said, handing Jack his water. She saw his brow furrow, and mentally kicked herself for the appellation. She knew she was just nervous, but he probably felt like she was distancing herself. "Please, sit down," she said, sitting on the couch next to where he stood, trying to make him see that she wasn't going anywhere.

Jack finally sat, looking at the coffee table, rather than at her. He set his glass down after taking a small sip. He drummed his fingers on his knees. Sam placed the notepad on the table, and tried to figure out where to begin. She took a drink of her water, and then placed it on the table as well. This wasn't going nearly as well as she'd hoped. She loved him so much, but what should she say?

"Thank you," came out at last. At least it got his attention. "The song, it's beautiful."

"Yeah?" He looked her in the eyes, waiting for her to give him just a little more of a clue.

"So was your letter," she said, smiling. She was relieved to see him smile a bit, too. He was so handsome when he smiled! Okay, she thought he was always handsome...

Worry came back into his eyes, as he asked, "What did you think, about...," he broke off, searching for the right words.

"Us?" Sam supplied.

"Yeah, us," he said, his hands now stilled on his knees.

Sam reached for her notepad, hesitating slightly before she flipped it open and handed it to him. "I wrote this after I heard the song, before I read your letter. It's not much, but..." she let her sentence trail off, as he reached out and took the pad from her.

Sam sat back into the couch as she watched him read. She saw him reread a couple of the lines as he went, and his smile grew as he did. He seemed even more encouraged by the glances he stole of her sitting there next to him, smiling more and more broadly. At last, he finished, his mouth slightly open in silent astonishment. "Wow," he said, finally.

Sam beamed at his reaction, then plowed ahead. "Your letter was everything I'd hoped for. I was so scared that it was just me -" She stopped as Jack's hand came up to her face. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch, just enjoying being close to him again.

"Sam," he said, turning more fully towards her, having set down the notepad. She looked at him, and was amazed at what she saw. It was the same face, the same eyes that had looked at her when she'd been with "Jonah," but the love she saw went so much deeper and was so much stronger than what they'd shared on the planet.

"Jack," she said quietly, feeling herself reach for his free hand. They would have to talk. But right now, she let herself be drawn to him, if she wasn't the one leaning into him. Thoughts of rules went out the window, as she felt his lips on hers. This was too right, being with him, feeling his hands on her neck, fingers threading into her hair or ghosting over her arm; just melting into him. . . they'd make it right. She slid her hands around his waist as he leaned over her, pulling him more tightly to herself as she explored the delicious territory of his mouth. It felt like the strongest case of déjà vu she'd ever experienced. It was physically familiar, but emotionally brand new. She suddenly realized her hands were on the bare skin of his back beneath his shirt, as he trailed kisses along her neck from her ear to her clavicle. She really, really didn't want this to stop, but at the same time she was hoping he might find some of the willpower she was apparently devoid of.

Sam began kissing his neck behind his ear, as he found a particularly sensitive spot near her shoulder. With a moan that turned almost into a growl, Jack pushed himself up on his arms. As they both caught their breath, Sam saw the regret in his eyes that he had to pull away. "Thank you," she said. Jack raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for her to clarify. "I didn't think I could have stopped," she explained, with a shy smile.

"Oh, Sam," he said, quickly kissing her neck again, before rolling into the back of the couch. At least he was lying next to her, instead of on top of her. She might be able to think clearly enough to talk to him now. Jack looked in her eyes, then kissed her nose and leaned his forehead against hers. "So, what're we gonna do?" he asked.

"I don't want to try and forget this," she said, mentally going over the options she'd written down.

"Agreed," said Jack, smiling.

"And I," she hesitated, hoping she wasn't going to sound selfish and impatient, "I don't want to wait, either."

"I noticed," Jack said, with an evil grin. Sam gave him a fake jab in the ribs. "Hey!" he laughed.

"So," Sam said.

"So, we talk it over with Hammond," Jack finished for her.

"Yeah," she replied.

They were both silent for a while, and lay there holding each other. Sam was excited and terrified. She closed her eyes as all sorts of scenarios began playing out in her mind. Jack would try to retire again. She'd try to resign and work as a civilian. Hammond wouldn't let them do anything, but would send them away with a stern talking to. She'd get transferred to another SG team. She'd get sent back to the Pentagon. They'd get court-martialed.

"Stop thinking so much," she heard him say.

She knew she was being silly and just overreacting, but she couldn't help but feel nervous. On the other hand, here she was, lying on her couch with Jack O'Neill in her arms. She opened her eyes and looked into his, and suddenly knew she had nothing to worry about.

"That's better," he said, as he saw her smile. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too," Sam said, happily snuggling into his neck.

"Thank God," he said, hugging her tightly.

The end.

Please, go listen to the song, whether you've heard it before or not - it's gorgeous!