AU: Sam's time missing onboard the Prometheus drives Jack to distraction, setting them on a course they have denied themselves for years. Set in Season 7 after 7.13 Grace, but before 7.16 Death Knell.

Prequel to Lost and Found.

Chapter Summary: Pete is a stalker. Sam is unimpressed and Jack has fun at Pete's expense.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. Here is a little fun at the expense of Pete for your enjoyment... because can't you imagine Jack doing this on the phone. I know I can.

Chapter 4: You've got voicemail

Sunday evening, 18th January 2004

The sound of the kitchen phone ringing forced my eyes open. At some point, the day had ticked over from Saturday to Sunday and then from morning to afternoon, and finally night time, though we had only been out of bed long enough to eat, drink, pick up a pizza, some supplies, and a new box of condoms. The rest of the time, we had been either sleeping or christening some part of the house with a smattering of talking about how we were going navigate this thing we had started.

"I can't go back Sam. I love you."

"I know Jack. I love you too, but I don't want either of us to retire or transfer."

"You want your cake and to eat it too?"

I smiled, "Yeah, besides I don't trust anyone else with your life. We have proven we can remain objective even with our feelings. If anything, we will be better out there."

"Because we have something to come home for."

"Yeah. I thought I could move on, but…" He didn't let me finish my sentence, instead pulling me onto his lap for a searing kiss.

That had been last night and the last of our glow in the dark condoms.

The warm, masculine body beside me stirred, but stayed asleep. Smiling with the thought that I had completely worn him out, I rose from the bed and padded out to the kitchen where the phone continued to ring. I was just about to pick it up when the answering machine kicked in. Deciding I would screen the call, I busied myself with setting up the kettle for some tea.

"Ah, hi. Samantha. Um, I had a missed call yesterday, so I thought, umm…"

I didn't recognise the voice as it stumbled through its diatribe while I pulled two cups from the dish rack.

"Sorry, I forgot my name. Not forgot, forgot my name. Damn. This is Pete. Pete Shanahan."

The sound of his name had me dropping one of the mugs to smash on my tiles. I hadn't left a message on his phone. I hadn't given him my number or anything, so how did he know my number.

"You're probably wondering how I got your number…"

Yes, yes, I was wondering how he got a hold of my number. It wasn't listed. Only people from the SGC, my dad, and Mark had my phone number.

"You see, I heard the hang up on my machine and I wasn't sure who it was, so I found out the number, you know because as a cop I can do that, and Mark was visiting. He saw me write the number down."

"Mark. Dammit!" I cursed, then crouched to pick up the broken pieces of mug while his bumbling message continued.

"What did that mug do to you?" Jack asked as he sauntered his extremely sexy nakedness out of my room, his hand running through his greying hair making it stick up more than normal. I motioned to the answering machine where Pete was still explaining to me how and why he had my phone number.

"Before you came over, I…" how did I explain that I had been ready to give up on an us. That I had somehow twisted my own hallucinations to the point that I believed he felt nothing for me. God how wrong I had been. "Mark gave me this guy's number. Pete. I called but didn't leave a message. I had a shower, and then well you know the rest." I said as I bit my bottom lip. Jack smiled and looked at the machine.

"So, yeah, Sam. I really would love… not love… like, I would really like to meet you. Your brother thinks we'd be great together."

I rolled my eyes and groaned at his last sentence. Mark had first given me Pete's number a few years ago, not long before Jack went missing on Edora. "He found me." Jack just stared at me and smiled, then reached for the phone. "What are you doing?" I said stepping toward him to get the phone. "Jack!" I stage whispered. He held his finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion and stepped away from me.

"Hi, Pete! Yeah. This is Jon."

"Jon?" I mouthed. He smirked. I supposed he wasn't lying.

"Who am I? Jon. Oh, who am I?"

"Jonathan, give me my phone." I chided using his full name then moving toward him again. He smiled wide and evaded my grabbing hands.

"Her friend? Yeah, you could say that."

"Boyfriend? Well, I am hardly a boy. A man, yeah, so manfriend works."

When it was clear that I could not stop his shenanigans, I moved back to the mess on my kitchen floor. I stifled my giggle listening to his one-sided conversation and dropped the pieces of mug into the bin. Turning to the cupboard, I bent over to grab another one and felt his manhood against my butt as I stood up, his free arm snaking around my waist.

"Coffee? Pete, are you asking me to ask her to have coffee with you?" Jack smirked. I had to try not to burst out laughing.

"Yeah, she's here, but she's in the shower. Well, I would you see, but I like my head on my shoulders. Sam has a thing about solo showers." Jack said, to which I rolled my eyes because I hadn't had a solo shower since Friday evening.

"Sure thing, I'll pass on your message. Bye, Pete." He said finally, then hung up and slid his hand around to my breast while kissing my neck. "Pete wants you to call him back. Oh, and he wants a coffee date."

"Ah, yeah, I don't think so. I have what I want right here thank you very much." I replied, then pressed the button until my answering machine announced that the message was deleted.

"You sure? He murmured while his fingers caressed and pinched, his lips on my neck. "He's a cop, he could get you out of all those speeding tickets."

"Mmmm… maybe, but can he give me… ohh…" I realised I had no idea how many orgasms Jack had given me in the last however many hours he had been here.

"Count the condoms and multiply by two, then add three." He said helpfully while his fingers wandered my body, his lips on my neck and shoulder. Didn't I know it. After so much activity, I was feeling a little sore, but I could not bring myself to say no to him.

Leaning back against his chest with a sigh. The last 48 hours had been pure bliss, a bliss that would end when we returned to work tomorrow. We would go back to the Colonel and Major. Sir and Carter. There was no room for Jack and Sam in the mountain. We would have to lock it all away again. We were returning to our normal rotation from Wednesday.

"Stop it!" He chided.

"Stop what?"

"Overthinking."

"I am not overth…"

"Yes, you are. You are thinking about tomorrow and work and how all this…" He squeezed my hip and pulled me against him, "…is going to fit together." I noticed he was almost ready to go again. So much for him being over 50.

"You should probably go home tonight."

"I could, or I could stay here and go home an hour early in the morning." He responded with a kiss behind my ear, his hands splayed on my flat stomach.

I chuckled, "You know I like to get to base at 0700 most mornings, sometimes 0600."

"I know, betcha don't start that early tomorrow."

"Oh, is that right, Sir." I said, spinning around to face him.

He growled, "You really should not Sir me when you are naked and I am like this, Carter." He said motioning to himself.

"And why is that Sir? I thought you liked it."

"Oh, I do, a lot more than I should." He responded, opening the cutlery draw on his right to grab a small foil package from one of our many stashes around the house. Our tepid cups of tea forgotten as we filled the house once more with the sounds of passion.

Monday morning, 19th January 2004

Sam's alarm was obnoxious. It sounded like a combination of a feline mating call and one of those little plastic whistles that parents buy their children at a fair only to take it away from them a few minutes later. How on Earth her eardrums had not shattered was beyond me.

"Oh, that has got to go Carter." I complained, covering my ears by folding the pillow around my head. It was bad enough that it was 0430 hours. Waking up to that sound at any time was evil, but at 0430 hours, when we had only been asleep since 0100, it was wrong on every level.

"What?" She said, sitting up and switching the noise off. "It's my alarm."

"It's an awful noise that makes me wish for artillery fire or sonic boom temporary deafness."

"That is not even remotely funny. Clearly you have suffered neither." She said as she climbed out of bed to head for the shower.

"Oh, I assure you Carter, I have had both. More than once. Incidentally, black ops torture training includes a noise similar to that." I responded, getting up to follow her. We had been locked in a dark room for 48 hours, hands cuffed behind our backs, blindfolded, and assaulted with a noise like that at any given time of the day or night. During that time, we were randomly chosen multiple times for interrogation, only to be thrown back into that room. Only three of us had not broken during that exercise.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Same as you."

"Jack, if you get in this shower, I will not make it to the mountain in time."

Holding up my watch to her face, I pointed to the numbers. "See this Carter, it is a 4, and this is 32. That makes it 0432 which is…" I made a point of counting on my fingers, "…3 and a half hours before you are officially on duty."

"Yes, but I like to get there early. I have things to finish, experiments, and artefa…" She started to explain when I cut her off with a kiss. She moaned and leaned into me. "Jack, I don't think I can."

"It's OK. I'm in the same boat."

"But you are… ummm." She faltered, motioning to my already proud erection.

"Yeah, he doesn't understand the concept of latex rash. He's not getting any relief this morning." I said, guiding her into the shower and turning on the taps.

"Would you be mad if I said I needed a couple of days?"

"Mad? Sam, no. Never." I replied, hugging her to my chest. "Snuggling up with you and waking up to your awful alarm is all I need. I promise. Now pass me your soap."

She smiled as she squirted some of her vanilla smelling body wash into my hands so that I could wash her. I would go home and shower again to cover the smell of her with my own masculine soap because turning up to the mountain smelling like my 2IC was a recipe for court martial. Of course, by the time I had finished washing her, one thing had led to another which ended in a lot of kissing and toe curling oral sex for both of us, followed by a nap with her cuddled up in my arms.

Two hours later, I kissed her goodbye in her foyer with whispered promises of seeing her tonight, this time at my place. Then I donned my helmet and walked out of her house to ride home, making sure to take the long way, a few added extra turns and a couple of alleyways to ensure I wasn't followed. The happiness and anticipation I felt at seeing her again in a few hours, even if it was in our work personas filled my heart with joy.