"Aren't you curious?"
Jack barks out a laugh and eyes his former second-in-command, figuring out if she means what she just said or if she's flirting with him. Her eyes are sparkling, not in a Gouald kind of way, the kind of way where she's about to pounce. Her mouth curves into a challenging smile. He loves it when she's like this. Teasing him.
Jack clears his throat and puts his half-drunk tumbler of whisky on the table. He can feel her watching him. He steps back to her side and catches her gaze, folding his arms to resist the urge to turn and touch her. Though that is becoming easier by the day, it's still new and he tries to ration himself so they don't rush this newfound freedom they have.
It's difficult, though. Especially with the way she's looking at him, he doesn't think Sam would mind if he made a move. They've drunk far much more than they should have. Jack isn't sure who thought it would be a good idea to crack open a bottle of whisky after they drank a couple beers. All he knew was they needed to take the edge off and ease the tension they felt between them the whole journey up to the cabin.
Still, dutch courage and everything.
"You sure you really wanna find out, Carter?" Jack says it with more bravado than he's feeling. She shrugs. "What does the winner get?"
God help him, she blushes before taking a swig of her beer to cover it. "We'll think of something," she muses.
"I'm sure we will," he smirks as she moves past him to sit at the table. He can't help his gaze dropping to her hips as she moves.
"Question is, are we going to arm wrestle or not?"
Wood scrapes along wood as he roughly pulls the chair out opposite her. He can't help but think of the first time she issued that challenge to him. Their hello, the first time they met. The spark in her eyes, the cock-sure attitude he secretly got a kick out of for the split second before he realised she was going to be on his team, scientist or soldier, whether he liked it or not. She was so determined to prove herself, yet she had nothing to prove to him. She never did; he admired her the moment she stood up to him, a superior officer. There was a hierarchy in Air Force that needed to be respected but Jack never put much stock in yes men, and he wanted someone with her spirit on his team.
That was eight years ago.
Today, the watchful eyes of Hammond and Kawalski are gone. Regs are still there but they've officially been in different chains of command for about nineteen hours, give or take. They're all alone, in the middle of frickin' nowhere. Thank God, because he's hellbent on making sure they're both winners after this and he has doubts about their ability to hold out long enough to reach the bedroom.
Sam returns his smirk as she rests her elbow on the table, her hand waiting for his as he makes a show of rolling up his sleeve past his forearm.
His elbow finds a place on the sanded wood of the table. His fingers slide through hers, and he swears his skin tingles where it touches her. Her grip is firm as she steadies herself.
"You ready?" She breathes out, as affected as he is.
"You had me at hello, Carter."