A/N-Today's virtual dessert is tiramisu. Enjoy guilt-free :-)!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

9

Jack had become a regular at stool number eight, six-thirty a.m., Monday thru Thursday. Friday was her day off, and Sam suspected it was the day he chose to "sleep-in." She never asked Jill if Jack showed up; she just knew he hadn't. Friday nights were her time with him, and sometimes Saturday or Sunday afternoons. She looked forward to their time together, a little more than she should, she realized. Still, she was fighting the battle between her warring emotions. This Jack could be funny and sweet, and without the bitter edge Colonel O'Neill often displayed. That's not to say if her Jack was outside the military element, he might not react the same way. She knew, however, Charlie's death would still cast a shadow over him. That, she decided, was really what set the two men apart.

Sam sighed. She still continued to think of the Colonel as her Jack, when in reality-this reality-Jack O'Neill, high school teacher, was more "hers." She knew all she had to do was stop fighting herself and Jack would be at her door, and in her bed in a heartbeat. So what was the real stumbling block? Feeling disloyal to the Colonel who was bound by the fraternization regulations? Or that by accepting Jack, she was essentially giving up on getting back to her universe? It was probably both, and she wondered how this was going to play out, because she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do.

Jack tapped her shoulder with a bottle of beer, the cold and wet from the condensation startled her out of her reverie.

"Sorry," he said, wiping the moisture from her arm. The warmth of his hand felt good despite the heatwave Denver was experiencing.

"It's okay," she smiled, a bit ruefully she guessed, judging from his expression.

"You all right?"

Sam turned back from the patio door she'd been staring out of. She liked Jack's yard. Even on the hottest days it offered a cool respite. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"I've noticed you do a lot of that," he teased, taking a sip from his own beer, plunking down on the sofa. Sam joined him, picking up the television remote. Jack's mock outrage caused her to smile in triumph.

"You said if I came over I could watch what I wanted," she reminded him.

Jack leaned his head back on the sofa staring up at the ceiling. "Ah, yes. I do recall something about that. Did I sound as if I meant it?"

Sam giggled. "You were dead serious."

"Oh." A moment passed before he added, "NOVA?" She nodded. "Figures."

"Jack, I would think you would find it fascinating, you being a science teacher and all."

"Why would I want to watch a science program when it's what I do all day?" he whined

"It's what I do, well did, and I still like to watch it."

"You're weird," he pronounced, leaning over to kiss her. It didn't take Sam long to get caught up in the moment, and probably would have forgotten about NOVA entirely if Charlie hadn't walked into the room.

"Jeeze, are you two at it again?" he taunted. "Why don't you just go and get it out of your system?"

Jack rolled over, leaving his head in Sam's lap. "And give you ideas?"

"Dad," Charlie sighed, "You act as if I've never seen people making out before. Although, you've probably damaged my psyche by subjecting me to icky-old-people-making-out."

"Charlie! You apologize to Sam!"

Sam was on her feet in seconds, pummeling Jack with a sofa cushion. "Hey! It was just a joke!" he cried, doing his best to defend himself from her onslaught.

"You crazy kids," Charlie clucked, shaking his head.

The remainder of Jack's beer ended up down the front of his shirt. "Sam! Look what you did!" Jack cried, holding his sodden shirt out from his chest. "Now I have to change, and it was my last clean shirt," he groused. "You," he said, pointing a finger at his son, "Behave."

Charlie flopped down in the chair opposite the sofa, his legs dangling over the arm. "Sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to insult you."

Sam gave him an affectionate smile. "You didn't. And you saved your Dad from having to watch NOVA."

Charlie nodded with a knowing smile. "I'm surprised he let you near the remote. It must be love," he quipped.

Sam looked down, fiddling with the edge of her shirt. "Hey, I'm sorry," Charlie said with genuine sincerity, "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just that I've never seen my dad so happy. Well, I sort of remember what he was like before Mom died. But this is the first time in years he smiles all the time. Especially when he mentions your name. Which is all the time, I might add."

"He makes me smile, too," Sam confessed, still not meeting Charlie's gaze.

"You know, I don't care if the two of you sleep together," Charlie added, his feet twitching nervously as they hung over the chair arm.

"Charlie!"

"Well, in case that was what was holding you back or anything," he said. Now it was his gaze that wouldn't meet hers.

Choosing her words carefully, Sam tried to formulate a response. "That's part of it, I suppose, but it's complicated. There's a lot going on that you don't understand."

Charlie looked up, expectantly. "You could tell me."

Sam smiled at his wheedling. "It's between me and your dad. When we're ready, we'll tell you."

Sighing, Charlie righted himself in the chair and pushed himself to standing. "I guess adults are the same wherever you go." It wasn't a censure, exactly, but Sam felt a wave of defensiveness rising within her. How could she explain it to Charlie when she didn't understand it herself? Although, he probably would have bought into the whole multi-verse thing faster than Jack had. She wasn't sure he still had. The impression she had of Jack was he was making allowances for her eccentricities. She could live with that, she decided.

Jack stepped into the living room, shifting his gaze between the two occupants. "Everything okay?" he ventured.

Sam stood, reaching over to squeeze Charlie's arm. "Everything is just fine, right?"

The grin that had obviously been passed down from father to son lit Charlie's face. "Everything's great, Dad. Really." Jack still surveyed the two of them skeptically, then gave up on the subject.

"Did I stay away long enough for NOVA to be over?"

XXXXXX

Jack pulled up to the curb outside of Sam's apartment. "I had a nice time, tonight," he said, cutting the engine.

"Me too." Silence hung between them, causing Jack to start fidgeting. Something was up with her; that much was obvious. He wondered if Charlie had said something to upset her, but she assured him it had nothing to do with his son.

She'd been off from the time she showed up at his house. While they'd never made any specific plans, she usually arrived on his doorstep after her Saturday shift. Jack took the silence as long as he could, then turned to her, rubbing her upper arm.

"Come on. What is it? I know something's up." It took a few more minutes before she answered.

"I was just thinking about something Charlie had said."

"You told me this had nothing to do with. . ."

Sam turned to him, "He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know."

Jack felt his eyebrows come together. "Then what. . . ."

Sam's smile was rueful. "He told me how happy you've been. I can see you are. You're a lot. . .oh, I don't know, lighter? than when I first met you."

Sliding closer, Jack wound his arm over her shoulders, pulling her head down to rest under his chin. "I think you know why."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "I feel a lot better too, you know. I don't feel so alone."

"You're not," he assured her, shifting her closer.

"I haven't given up on getting back," she stated vehemently and Jack wondered where her odd segue had come from.

"I don't suppose you have. You're not the kind of person who gives in without a fight."

"And I realize I've been fighting myself." Sam sat up straighter, looking him in the eyes. "I also realize I've been putting my life on hold, living as though at any minute I'll be given the chance to return to my reality."

Jack didn't know what to say to that, although he had to admit, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not that she'd return to this mythical alternate reality she believed so strongly in, but that she'd just be gone, moved on to another city, and another life.

"I came to the conclusion it's just not going to happen. Maybe someday," she shrugged, "But if it was possible, it probably would have happened by now." She sounded sad, but not particularly sorry for herself.

"I'm not sure I know what you're trying to say."

Sam leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't chaste, a quick peck or even a longer, tongue-tangling until-we-meet-again sort of kiss. She wanted him. Him, he realized. Not the heroic Colonel O'Neill of her past, not the superior who was out of her reach, but him, living and breathing and willing to do anything to make this kiss last forever. Because God help him, he loved her. He never imagined he could fall so fast after Sara. Never imagined he'd ever fall after Sara. But Samantha Carter had turned his life on its head the moment she spoke to him in the cereal aisle of a suburban Safeway.

"Stay," she said, her eyes shining with passion and warmth. He wouldn't ascribe love, but the possibility existed.

Jack swallowed. "Are you sure?"

She closed her eyes briefly as if saying a final farewell. She met his gaze without hesitation. "I'm sure."

A slow grin came to Jack's lips. "Do you know how I like my eggs?" he queried.

"Absolutely no idea."

"Just the way I like them," he said, capturing her lips once more.