Following a heartfelt farewell party at SGC, Sam had little time to pack her belongings, wrap up matters at home, and catch a flight to Washington, D.C.. Jack was waiting for her at the Arrivals area this time, not his driver. When she finally spotted him, she rushed into his arms, and without a care in the world, if anyone was watching, she greeted him with a deep, passionate kiss.
Jack responded in kind, their lips meeting with a fiery intensity that sent shivers down her spine. It was a moment of unbridled emotion, a declaration of their love, and neither of them minded who might witness it.
Alone in their home, they didn't waste time. As soon as Jack closed the front door, Sam felt herself pushed roughly against it.
"Welcome home." Jack's head came forward to claim her neck in searing kisses.
Sam put her arms around his neck, pressing her body firmly against his.
"Take me to bed," she asked against his lips.
Silently, Jack lifted her into his arms and strode with sure steps to their bedroom. He lowered her gently to the bed, and she lay back, their eyes locked.
"Hey," he said, starting to undress.
"Hey," she said with a big smile, doing the same.
Naked, he crawled into bed with her, staring into her big blue eyes, his face within mere inches of hers.
"I missed you," Jack told her, cupping her face and pulling her mouth to his. Sam's arms instantly encircled his neck, her lips opening to take him in. He brought his hands slowly down her body, brushing the sides of her breasts before settling on her hips.
"And I missed you too," she said, kissing his neck. "Now I want you inside me, General," she ordered in a hoarse whisper.
Jack's eyes darkened, and he obliged happily, entering her. Sharp pants and loud moans filled the darkened bedroom. Hands stroked as they drove each other higher and higher in their passion. Fires flamed hot and bright. The bed creaked loudly under the intensity of their lovemaking. She met him thrust for thrust, urging him harder and faster.
"Oh god..." she cried out against his neck, a slight tremor coursing through her body. Sam threw her head back with a scream as her orgasm ripped through her. Harsh tremors racked her body, her leg tightened around his hips, pulling him as profoundly as possible.
His own body demanding its release, he pounded into her. Grunting against her ear, he felt her tense around him, signaling her orgasm building in her again. He felt the initial small tremors course through her body as she climaxed again. Letting himself go, they found their release together. His head dropped to her shoulder, biting down as he erratically thrust into her.
"Jesus, Sam," he let out as they collapsed heavily against the mattress, limbs entwined.
Harsh panting filled the room. Still recovering her breath, Sam slowly caressed his damp hair.
"So, this is going to be our nights from now on?" she asked with a smile.
Jack rolled on his side and faced her. He was smiling from ear to ear.
"God, I hope so," he said, with one hand on her waist.
She started to laugh, hiding her face on his neck. Jack kissed her head.
"I love you, Samantha Carter-O'Neill," he said in almost a whisper next to her ear.
Sam closed her eyes, her hands stroking along his spine. "Love you too, Jack O'Neill..." She found his lips passionately kissing him.
Jack and Sam's final reunion in the rented townhouse in Washington, D.C., was an emotional and passionate moment that had been a long time coming. They had missed each other intensely, and their connection was palpable from the moment they walked through the door. They fell asleep knowing they would spend their lives in the same house together as a couple for the first time since marriage. It had been a difficult and long journey, but they had made it and were determined to make the best of it. They were in it for life.
Sam was on the verge of completing the final equations for her project when an unexpected wave of dizziness washed over her. She attempted to shake it off, realizing she had been laboring for several hours without even a recollection of her last meal, just a hazy memory of a sandwich consumed many hours ago. The signs were clear; she needed a break. She reassured herself that she could wrap up these last few calculations and call it a day.
Her vision began to blur out of nowhere, the numbers on her computer screen becoming indecipherable. She instinctively shut her eyes, cursing her unfortunate timing. Inhaling deeply, she took a moment to regain composure. When she cautiously reopened her eyes, her surroundings had returned to clarity. She stood alone in her dimly lit laboratory, most of her colleagues having left for the day.
General Hendricks, a stern figure who had warned her repeatedly not to be the last person in the lab, had explicitly conveyed the consequences of her late nights. Their previous exchange had hinted at a discreet conversation with another specific General. Sam had blushed deeply, pledging to strive for more reasonable hours. Hendricks had responded by remarking that her concept of "reasonable hours" was markedly distinct from the rest of the world's.
Subsequently, a compromise had been reached, and an automatic alarm timer was installed in her lab. At precisely 1900 hours, it would resound, and her adherence to this curfew was duly documented. Sam despised being monitored in such a manner, but Hendricks insisted it was non-negotiable. She had made several unsuccessful attempts to circumvent the system.
Consulting the clock, she noted it was 1855. "Damn it," she grumbled, closing her computer. As she placed her laptop into her briefcase, the dizziness returned with an even greater intensity, causing Sam to clutch the edge of her desk desperately to prevent herself from collapsing. "What on earth?" she exclaimed aloud. Then, in an instant, her world went black.
Jack sat in his office, engrossed in his work, when his secretary entered with an anxious expression.
"General O'Neill, I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir, but there's a call from your wife's laboratory. You should take this, Sir," she informed him.
Jack swiftly reached for his phone and answered, "Hello."
"General O'Neill?" a concerned voice inquired.
"Yes, this is him. What's the matter?" he asked, heart pounding as he glanced at the time, which read 1915.
"Hello, Sir. This is Major Petersson; I work with your wife," the female voice on the other end responded.
"Is she okay?" Jack asked, rising from his chair.
"Sir, I was leaving the lab when I happened to pass by her workspace and found her unconscious on the floor. We've already called the medic, and she's stable now, but she requested that we contact you," Major Petersson relayed.
"I'm on my way," Jack said before promptly ending the call. He grabbed his hat, shut down his computer, and hurriedly left his office, striding through the corridors toward her department, which fortunately wasn't too far away. Upon his arrival, he made a beeline for her lab. A few concerned colleagues were lingering by her door, and they quickly vacated the premises upon spotting him.
Jack entered the lab and found Sam seated on the small couch she kept in her workspace. A doctor was finishing his examination, and a woman stood beside her, whom he presumed to be Major Petersson.
"Hey," he greeted Sam, kneeling in front of her. She appeared ghostly pale. "What happened?" he asked, asking the doctor for an explanation.
"General," the doctor nodded respectfully. "Your wife fainted. She informed me that she hadn't eaten in several hours, which could be the cause. However, I'd like to conduct some tests to be certain," he suggested.
Jack regarded Sam with a concerned expression.
"Samantha, we've discussed this," he said gently. She cast her eyes downward. "I'll take her home," he told the doctor. "Thank you."
He then turned his attention to Major Petersson, who observed them curiously.
"Thank you for your assistance, Major," he acknowledged.
Major Petersson blushed slightly.
"Don't mention it, Sir," she replied. "Take care, Sam," she added before exiting the lab, leaving the couple alone.
Jack tenderly clasped his wife's cold hands.
"Shall we head home?" he asked, gazing into her cerulean eyes. Her mere nod conveyed that she wasn't feeling her best. Rising from his position, he extended his assistance, and she leaned on him, her balance wavering slightly, causing her to clutch his arm tightly.
"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to go to the Clinic here?" he inquired with concern.
Sam shook her head, her voice feeble.
"No, I'll be fine. I need to rest and have something to eat," she replied.
Jack sighed, concern etched across his face.
"Alright, let's go home," he agreed, draping an arm around her waist.
Exiting the Pentagon, they found Jack's driver waiting for them.
"Home," Jack instructed succinctly.
As Jack's secretary, Mick had been informed about their marriage as soon as Sam was transferred to Washington, D.C.. While they had kept a low profile in the Pentagon, news of their marriage eventually circulated. Within Sam's department, General Hendricks had swiftly quashed the rumors, emphasizing that his staff's personal lives should not interfere with their work, and he had no tolerance for idle gossip. Small talk ceased in Sam's presence. Hendricks reminded Sam a lot of George Hammond. Despite his brown buzzcut and towering stature compared to Jack, he possessed the exact warm and kind-hearted nature as Hammond and proved to be an exceptional commanding officer. Sam felt fortunate to work with him.
Mick parked the car in front of their house, and Jack helped Sam out of the vehicle. She still didn't feel steady, but she kept that to herself, sensing that Jack was already profoundly concerned. They entered their home, and unexpectedly, Jack gently scooped her into his arms without uttering a word and carried her to their bedroom.
"Come on, Jack," Sam protested, burying her face in his chest.
"Don't say a word," he cautioned as gently placed her on the bed. "Do you need help undressing?" he asked, studying her intently.
Sam blushed and replied, "No."
"Good, I'll be right back," he informed her, removing his jacket. He exited the room, and Sam sighed heavily, beginning to undress while in bed.
In the solitude of the kitchen, Jack took a series of calming breaths. He didn't want Sam to witness the anxiety coursing through him, but ever since that phone call from Major Petersson, he had been in a state of apprehension. The mere thought that something might be amiss with Sam sucked the air from his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He moved to the refrigerator and retrieved a water bottle, drinking it. He sighed heavily and began preparing a light meal for her; she needed sustenance. After all these years, she remained as stubborn as ever.
Carrying a tray of food, he re-entered their bedroom. Sam lay on the bed, already changed into her customary sleeping attire, a tank top and shorts. Jack swallowed hard and set the tray on the bed.
"Come on, eat everything," he instructed.
Sam glanced at the tray containing a sandwich, a bowl of soup, a banana, and tea.
"Okay, thank you," she replied, starting with the soup.
Jack finished changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He carefully sat on the bed while she sipped her tea.
"So, what happened?" he asked, gently caressing her foot.
Sam put the mug on the tray and teased, "I fainted, according to the witnesses."
Jack gave her a warning look. Sam sighed and gazed up at the ceiling.
"I forgot to eat, okay, Jack? And then I felt dizzy," she admitted, her tone childlike. He gripped her foot tighter, prompting her to protest, "Ouch."
"Do I need to speak with Hendrick and consider installing a mealtime alarm for you?" he asked slowly.
Sam blushed deeply.
"Don't you fucking dare!" she exclaimed, her complexion returning to its usual color.
Jack smiled.
"I will if you don't start eating proper meals," he warned.
Sam's eyes seemed like turbulent oceans.
"I'll kill you in your sleep. I'll do it, Jack," she threatened.
Jack burst into laughter.
"No, you won't," he stated, moving his hand from her foot up her leg. Sam attempted to shake his hand loose, but he held it firmly.
"Behave," he admonished.
The tray teetered precariously on their bed, prompting Jack to still his hand.
"Alright, I'll stop," he conceded, removing his hand. Sam clenched her jaw and pulled the covers up to her chin. Jack smiled and collected the tray before exiting the room.
He ate something in the kitchen, tidied up, and returned to the bedroom. Sam was lying on her side, facing him with her eyes closed. Jack entered the bed and called out softly, "Honey?" She didn't move a muscle, and Jack realized she was asleep. Kissing her forehead, he turned off the light and gently wrapped his arm around her. Then he closed his eyes and awaited the arrival of sleep.