As soon as Sam entered their townhouse in D.C., she let go of her carry-on.
"God, I'm exhausted," she sighed, bending down to unlace her sneakers.
Jack, right behind her, began taking off his coat.
"Come on, General. It was a two-day trip. We've had much more grueling missions," he said teasingly, giving her a playful pat on the backside.
Sam shot him a warning glance.
"I wasn't fifty-one, Jack," she retorted through gritted teeth.
Jack burst into laughter and made his way to the kitchen.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he chuckled, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sipping.
Sam stood at the entrance to the kitchen, arms crossed, giving him a pointed look.
"What? I'm getting older, and my body is going through a lot. It isn't just you, you know?" she remarked, raising an eyebrow.
Jack closed the fridge door and turned to look carefully at his younger wife. Sam was watching him with a strange expression that told him they were now treading on dangerous territory, and he felt the need for extreme caution. Her mood swings were much better, but they hadn't disappeared entirely. He knew their discussion at the hotel over his jealousy of Daniel hadn't been resolved despite her efforts to say it was forgotten. He knew her well. He had overreacted, and Sam didn't deal with that unfair reaction. She never had.
But Jack couldn't help himself. He got extremely jealous of other men, and her relationship with Daniel, despite Daniel being one of his closest friends, had always been a very present threat in Jack's eyes. He knew Daniel loved his wife Sha're during their SG-1 times and then Vala, but the archaeologist and Sam had almost instantly bonded when they met and had a relationship that Jack could never truly understand. Sam and Jack had silent conversations with their eyes. Sam and Daniel had conversations with their mouths, which bothered Jack more than he wanted to admit. Sam had confided in Jack that she often shared her deepest feelings with Daniel when feeling down, and Jack couldn't help but feel jealous.
And now, knowing that they had kissed had seemed the ultimate betrayal. He knew it was stupid and childish, but that was how he felt when she told him. Hey, he never claimed to be perfect—far from it. He had warned her when he proposed that she could do much better. She had said 'yes' despite that.
"We all get older, honey," he said diplomatically. "And yes, your body is going through a lot. I know that. Now," he added.
Sam continued scrutinizing him, and Jack sensed a trick in the conversation but couldn't quite grasp it. She was a master in that field, among others.
"What do you want me to say, Sam?" he finally asked, opting for the straightforward approach, which was sometimes safer and better.
"Nothing, Jack. I was making an observation," she said slowly, her tone measured.
Jack placed his hands on one of the high chairs.
"That you are fifty-one. I know that," he said, meeting her gaze.
Jack smiled as he reminisced, "Last year, Vala threw one heck of a party in her million-dollar mansion, and for once, I was truly grateful for her wealth. We had an incredible time there, and the kids loved it. Heck, I loved it, too. We spent the entire weekend making love. "And?" he prodded, attempting to decipher the direction of the conversation.
"And now I'm practically at menopause," Sam admitted.
Jack nodded, acknowledging her statement. He still wasn't seeing her angle.
"I know, honey. Your body is changing; you explained it to me, and we've already changed parts of our lives. We'll adjust," he replied carefully. "What are we discussing here, Sam?" he inquired, sensing an underlying current in their conversation.
Sam felt a wave of insecurity wash over her after their recent argument in the hotel room and Jack's candid admission. The words lingered in her mind, and she couldn't shake the feelings they had stirred up. She wasn't getting any younger, and her body was entering a phase that still daunted her despite Emily's assurances. After their discussion, she caught her reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, noting the subtle changes that time had etched on her face and figure. Despite Jack's reassurances, the seeds of doubt had deepened in her low self-esteem. She wondered if he still found her attractive and if he missed the younger version of herself that had first captured his heart.
"Do you still find me attractive?" she asked in a low voice.
Jack's hand almost slipped from the chair at the unexpected question.
"Excuse me?" he asked, half thinking that his hearing might be the first thing to go with age.
"Are you still attracted to me?" Sam repeated, this time with a firmer voice.
"Are you serious, Sam? After everything that happened last night?" Jack raised an eyebrow, incredulous.
Sam blushed. "Yes," she said.
Jack let go of the chair and took a few steps, stopping before his wife. His expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand.
"You are and always will be the most beautiful and attractive woman to me. Always, Sam," he said, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her close.
Sam blushed even more, placing her hands on his chest.
"I have wrinkles now, Jack," she confessed in a low voice, her eyes downcast. "My hair is starting to get gray, my weight isn't the same, and my muscles are different now despite all my exercise."
Jack's hands moved to her backside, resting there reassuringly.
"Your muscles seem fine to me," he said with a sly smile, trying to lighten the mood.
Sam bit her lip, looking into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. "I'm being serious," she insisted, trembling slightly.
Jack kissed her lips gently, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "So am I. You are beautiful, Sam. Trust me," he reassured her, holding her closer, his arms encircling her with warmth and love.
"But what if I can't keep up? What if you start to resent me because of it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with vulnerability.
Jack's expression softened, and he cupped her face in his hands. "Sam, we've been through so much together. We've faced enemies, we've saved worlds, and we've built a family. I didn't marry you for your looks, although you are stunning. I married you because of who you are, your strength, intelligence, and compassion. Those things don't fade with time."
She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "I just don't want to lose what we have."
"You won't," he promised, his voice firm and filled with conviction. "We will face whatever comes our way together. We will grow older together, and we will change together. But one thing will never change: my love for you."
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes, and she let them fall, feeling the weight of her insecurities lift just a bit. "I love you, Jack. I just needed to hear that."
"And I'll keep telling you, as many times as you need to hear it," Jack said, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You're my partner, best friend, and the love of my life. Wrinkles, grays, and all. Things that I have plenty of for many years now."
Sam smiled a genuine smile that reached her eyes. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, pouring all her love and gratitude into that kiss.
They stood in the kitchen, locked in a prolonged kiss, until Sam's cell phone rang persistently. "Ignore it," Jack suggested between kisses.
Sam did so initially, but the ringing continued. Reluctantly, she pulled away and placed a hand on Jack's chest as she fished her cell phone from her jeans.
"I have to take this, Jack," she said, almost out of breath.
Jack let her go, and Sam moved to their living room.
"General Carter," she answered, the remnants of their intimate moment still lingering in her voice.
Colonel Magnus Kendrick, Sam's 2IC, wasn't thrilled about calling his boss on a Sunday, but he knew it was necessary.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Ma'am, but I believe you need to be updated on this matter," he said, choosing his words carefully.
Sam, always ready for duty, was immediately intrigued.
"What is it, Kendrick?" she asked, her tone reflecting her curiosity.
"General McFee has requested an urgent meeting with the President, Ma'am. It's about Project Perseus. The word is that he's trying to shut it down and has enough support to make it happen," Kendrick relayed, the urgency evident in his voice.
Sam sat down on the couch, absorbing the information.
"Really?" she inquired, a mix of concern and determination in her expression.
"Yes, Ma'am. That's the word," Kendrick confirmed. "The information I have is that it's scheduled for tomorrow morning at 0900 at the Oval Office."
Sam sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation.
"I see. Thank you for the information, Colonel. I'll take it from here," she said, ending the call. She momentarily sat on the couch, her mind racing through the implications. Then, with purpose in her movements, she got up and searched for her husband.
"Jack?" she called out when she didn't find him in the kitchen.
"In the bedroom," he responded loudly.
Taking a deep breath, Sam climbed the stairs, her mind already strategizing how to address the impending crisis. She had a two-day break from Perseus, and that was it. She was getting sucked back into it again as soon as she arrived home. When Sam entered the room, Jack had already started to undress and prepare for a shower.
"So, any crisis?" he asked, peeling off his T-shirt.
Sam settled onto the bed.
"McFee is meeting with the President tomorrow morning. It seems he has enough support to shut down Perseus," she revealed, her words lingering.
Jack paused, his hands on his pants.
"I'm not part of any of that, Sam," he quickly asserted.
"I believe you," she replied, her gaze steady.
"What's your plan?" he inquired, joining her on the bed.
"I think I won't do anything. If he manages to shut down Perseus, he's doing me a favor without knowing," Sam confessed slowly.
Jack sighed.
"So, you're giving up?" he asked, disappointment evident in his tone.
Sam glanced at her hands resting on her knees.
"Try not to sound so disappointed, Jack. I thought this was what you always wanted, after all. Perseus was a fairy tale, or whatever you called it. Not my best idea by a long shot," she remarked sarcastically.
Jack reached out, placing his hand over hers.
"I'm not disappointed, honey. I only wish you won't regret letting go of a project you've worked so hard on and believed in for so long," he said gently.
Sam managed a half-smile.
"I've worked on a lot of things passionately, believed in several important ones, and it didn't make a damn difference. This is just another one," she said bitterly.
Jack tightened his grip on her hands. He could see the disappointment and hurt in her eyes, breaking his heart.
"Even though I don't agree with Perseus, this is more than just 'another one,' Sam. It's a colony, almost another Earth. It would make a difference," he insisted. "If it were possible to accomplish," he added slowly.
Sam shook her head, her eyes lowering to the floor and avoiding his.
"Ah, there's the catch. McFee will probably use the' if' to pressure the President to end it. Not possible to accomplish," she remarked.
Jack chose silence this time, and they sat together in contemplation.
Sam broke the silence first.
"And with that, as I was starting to have a chance to get close to something significant, politics got in the way. I'm starting to understand why you always complained about politics when you moved here in the first place. They don't realize that it's about the future, about giving humanity a second chance."
"But at what cost, Sam?" Jack replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "How many more resources, how much more time, would the Administration have to pour into something that might never happen?"
Sam turned to him, her expression earnest.
"What if it does happen, Jack? What if we succeed? Consider what that would mean for us, our children, and everyone. Even if you don't believe it, can you at least imagine it?"
Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I understand that. But the risks are enormous, and so many things could go wrong than right. And McFee isn't going to make it easy. He has his agenda, which doesn't align with yours."
Jack reached out, taking her hand in his. "But we've faced challenges before, together. This is just another one. You shouldn't give up now."
Sam looked at him, seeing the determination in his eyes. What she loved most about him was his unwavering belief in their work and his ability to overcome obstacles. But she also saw the strain, the weariness that had crept in over the years. And that he didn't believe in the viability of her project. One single bit. And that said it all for her.
"Maybe you're right," she said softly. "Maybe I can find a way to make it work, prove it's possible," she said, not wanting to create another pointless discussion between them.
Jack squeezed her hand gently. "If you put your mind to it, I'm sure you will, Sam."
They sat in silence again.
The enormity of Sam's task still loomed large, but she knew that at least he wasn't working against her. And that was a huge relief. Because McFee would be throwing everything and then some more at her the next day, and she had no time to prepare. She could only hold on.
"Well, let's see what he has," she said after a while.
"He won't play fair, Sam. You do know that, don't you?" Jack warned.
Sam nodded.
"At this point, there's nothing I can do. I have to wait and see what the President thinks about this little coupe", she said resignedly.
Later that evening, Jack glanced at Sam as they sat on the couch watching a movie. She seemed more relaxed, her head resting on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer.
Jack cleared his throat, pushing past the tension he still felt. He knew he had to speak with her about this, or he couldn't sleep at all.
"Sam, can we talk about what happened at the hotel?"
Sam's eyes narrowed slightly, her body tensing, a defensive posture taking over.
"What about it, Jack? I thought we moved past that."
He shook his head, his arm remaining around her.
"We said we did, but I can tell it's still bothering you. Honestly, it's bothering me, too. I overreacted, and I'm sorry."
Sam sighed, her shoulders relaxing a bit.
"It's not just about the overreaction, Jack. It's about trust. I must know that you trust me, including my relationship with Daniel."
"I do trust you," he said quickly, reaching for her hand. "It's just that sometimes my insecurities get the best of me. I know it's not fair to you."
She softened at his touch, but her eyes were still hurt.
"I get that, Jack. I really do. But that happened dozens of years ago… I was just baffled by your explosion."
He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "You're right. I'll do better, I promise. It was in the past and none of my business."
Sam smiled, appreciating his sincerity. "Thanks. I'll try to be more patient with you. I know my mood swings can be... a lot."
Jack chuckled softly, pulling her into a hug. "We're a team, Sam. We'll figure it out together."
She rested her head against his chest, feeling a sense of relief. "I love you, Jack."
"I love you too," he murmured, kissing her head. "And I'm not going anywhere."
They stood there momentarily, holding each other, the tension slowly dissipating. Jack knew their relationship would always have challenges, but this moment reminded him why it was all worth it.
By the time they retired for the night, Sam felt slightly better but not much better. The professional challenges ahead were daunting. She knew they could face them if she had Jack by her side one hundred percent, but he wasn't, despite his encouraging words. She knew him well. She decided to see what the next day would bring as she drifted to sleep. There was no point in having an anxiety attack for something that was now clearly out of her hands.
Sam was at the Pentagon by 0700 the following day, leaving a snoring Jack in bed. She instructed Anne to contact the Oval Office to confirm McFee's meeting; indeed, it was verified. Next on her list was a call to Cameron, catching him at home during breakfast. Apologizing for the interruption, she asked if the planet hadn't been visited yet, and he confirmed that SG-15 hadn't yet gone there. She thanked him and ended the call. Then, all that was left was to wait.
After much consideration and knowing Jack's true feelings about the project and what might be done to their marriage, even if he had promised not to interfere, Sam decided not to intervene, regardless of the potential impact on her career or reputation. She had ceased caring about those matters long ago, a realization that had recently dawned on her. No more self-delusion, she resolved.
Sam glanced at a picture on her desk—a snapshot from the early days of SG-1 featuring herself, Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c. They appeared young and naive in that photo, especially she and Daniel. Closing her eyes, Sam recalled Jack's jealous reaction when she'd admitted to a kiss with Daniel. It was a memory she'd rather forget, only resurfacing due to Jack's teasing about her supposed alien boyfriends.
The incident had occurred in Daniel's apartment, probably in SG-1's first year, before Jolinar. After an off-world mission, they had gotten extraordinarily drunk and, out of curiosity rather than attraction, shared a kiss. The experiment failed, of course, and they laughed about it afterward. Sam hadn't shared these details with Jack, fearing he wouldn't find it amusing. She wondered if Daniel remembered or had shared it with Vala. She had never mentioned it.
Interrupted by her ringing phone, Sam answered her internal line.
"Yes, Anne?" she inquired.
"General, I have General McFee on the line. Can I connect the call?" Anne asked.
Surprised, Sam responded, "Yes, please."
"Good morning, General," McFee greeted unexpectedly warmly.
"Good morning to you too, General," Sam replied. "What can I do for you?"
"I expect you're already informed, as Head of Homeworld Command, that I have a meeting shortly with the President," McFee stated silkily.
Sam merely hummed, prompting McFee to continue, "And since I like to give fair warning to all my opponents, I'm providing you this courtesy call, General. Project Perseus will end today," he declared confidently.
"You're quite sure of yourself," Sam remarked, leaning back in her chair.
"I have several motives to be," McFee asserted.
"I appreciate the courtesy, General. Have a nice morning," Sam said, ending the call.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, knowing she could only wait now. The morning she was promised would be long and stressful.
After a solitary session immersed in her work on Homeworld, Sam was interrupted by a phone call urgently summoning her to the White House. The Oval Office requested her immediate presence; the President wanted to speak with her. Without hesitation, Sam asked Anne to notify Stevens that they were en route to the White House without delay. As she gathered her belongings, Sam couldn't help but anticipate the focal point of the impending conversation: Project Perseus.
Seated in the car, she paused to compose her thoughts, anticipating a weighty discussion with the President about the project. Upon arrival, she was swiftly escorted to the President's office, a gesture that underscored the gravity of the situation.
"Mister President," Sam saluted upon entering.
The President, alone at his desk, motioned for her to sit.
"General Carter, take a seat. We need to talk," he said with an undertone of tension.
Sam removed her hat and seated herself as instructed. The President, preoccupied with papers on his desk, spoke without immediately meeting her gaze.
"As you know, I met with General McFee and other Generals this morning. They briefed me on the current state of Project Perseus and its apparent lack of viability. They presented compelling evidence. Are they wrong?" he inquired, finally looking at Sam.
Unfazed, Sam replied, "I do not know what transpired in that meeting, Sir. Only that it occurred. Regarding the current status of Perseus, SG-15 is yet to be dispatched to the planet, and we lack intel at this point," she admitted. "What I said before still stands until proven otherwise," she added.
Leaning back in his chair, papers on the desk, the President continued, "You assured me this initial phase would be swift, Sam. Were you misleading me?" he asked bluntly.
Sam felt a flush of irritation on her cheeks.
"No, Sir. I don't make a habit of deceiving my commander-in-chief. I spoke the truth when I proposed the recovery of Perseus. You have the presentation I made at the Pentagon. It only lacks real proof and confirmation on the ground. However, unforeseen setbacks have led to delays beyond my initial projections," she explained.
The President sighed and commented, "I'm hearing a lot of political nuance in your response. I thought you steered clear of politics."
A genuine blush colored Sam's cheeks this time.
"I do, Sir. Completely. I'm providing an assessment of the situation, as planned for this week, regardless of General McFee's meeting," she clarified.
Another sigh from the President.
"Well, they have strong political and financial motives to suspend Perseus. I can't continue supporting it, Sam, as it stands. I'm sorry. They've garnered significant political backing, and you understand how things operate in Washington," he said, his tone now apologetic.
Sam nodded, acknowledging, "I'm beginning to understand, Sir."
"You are to focus on your duties at Homeworld Command. That is now your top priority. Forget Perseus," the President declared, signaling the end of the meeting.
Sam stood, saluted, and exited the office. A conflicting blend of fury and relief consumed her, creating a disconcerting emotional whirlwind. Instructing Stevens to return to the Pentagon, she informed Anne that she wasn't to be disturbed unless the President himself sought her. Alone in her office, Sam needed a moment to gather herself.
However, she could not concentrate on work after the discussion with the President. Grabbing her things, Sam left her office earlier than usual. Stevens, noticing the change in routine, drove her home and bid her a surprising "good afternoon" instead of the customary "good evening" or "night." As Sam entered their house, the familiar sound of a drilling machine echoed from the basement, signaling that Jack was engrossed in his remodeling project. Hat on the entrance table, shoes off, she debated between changing clothes or heading to the basement to greet him. Opting for a wardrobe change first, she decided to address him afterward.
The desire for a shower overcame her in their bedroom, and she stripped off all her clothes before stepping into the spacious walk-in shower. Under the cascading hot water, Sam attempted to drown out the swirling thoughts and the tears that threatened to surface.
"Sam?" Jack's unexpected voice broke through, making her jump. Startled, she closed the tap and looked at him, wet hair clinging to her face.
"Jesus, Jack! You startled me," she exclaimed.
He handed her a towel.
"What are you doing home?" he asked, a mix of surprise and suspicion in his tone.
Wiping her face, Sam replied, "Can you give me ten minutes to dry and change? Then we can talk?" Naked in their bathroom, this was not the ideal setting for this conversation.
Jack, covered in sawdust from head to toe, began removing his T-shirt.
"Sure, I need a shower myself," he said as Sam left the bathroom for their room.
With the water still running, she sat on the bed, taking a deep breath. After a moment, she rose and changed into more comfortable clothes. Jack emerged from the shower, a towel around his waist.
"Do you want to talk now, or should I change too?" he asked with a smile. Sam glanced at his wet chest and shook her head.
"Change. It's better," she said. The distraction was unwelcome at the moment. "I'll wait downstairs," she added, leaving the room with a semblance of a smile.
Jack chuckled, changing into sweatpants and a clean T-shirt as he laughed at the unexpected turn of events.
In the kitchen, Sam waited for the coffee to brew as Jack, now cleaned and refreshed, entered and gently kissed her forehead.
"Okay, what's going on?" he inquired, retrieving his mug from the cupboard.
Sam sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"McFee succeeded in shutting down Perseus. I was called to the White House today. The President delivered the news officially," she explained while pouring the coffee.
Jack swallowed, a dry lump forming in his throat.
"Okay... how are you feeling about that?" he asked with measured concern.
Seated at the table, cup in hand, Sam admitted, "Angry, relieved, numb..."
Jack sat across from her, putting his coffee down to reach for her free hand.
"What can I do?" he asked sincerely.
A conflicted smile played on Sam's lips, her eyes revealing the depth of emotions within.
"Hold me," she said, the first traces of tears welling up.
Immediately, Jack rose from his chair and moved to her side, wrapping his arms around her. She let go of the coffee, resting her face against his chest, eyes closed, feeling his comforting embrace. His arms had always been her sanctuary, even before they were married. Now, with the added intimacy of matrimony, she could reciprocate by wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I've got you," he whispered in her ear, a soothing balm that caused Sam's emotional dam to break. Tears turned into sobs, and she cried in his strong arms. Anticipating this moment, she had sought solace at home, needing him.
"It's okay, honey. I'm here," he reassured, his caresses on her back and gentle kisses on her head echoing his comforting words.
They stood in their kitchen, locked in a heartfelt embrace, for quite some time until Sam, exhaustion creeping in, sniffled and said, "I'm so tired, Jack."
Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms.
"Come on," he said, disregarding her attempt to protest about his knees. Carrying her to the living room, Jack settled on the couch, still holding her close.
"Rest, I'm here," he murmured, gently wiping her tears.
Sam closed her eyes, nuzzling her head closer to his neck, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla shower gel. Unbeknownst to her, sleep claimed her within a minute. Jack continued to stroke her hair, his arms protectively wrapped around her. In the silent embrace, he grappled with the weight of the news, understanding that both needed time to process the impact of Project Perseus's closure.
When Sam stirred, she was still cradled in her husband's arms, now snugly wrapped in a warm blanket on the living room couch. The room was dimly lit by a soft glow emanating from a table lamp near the window. Briefly contemplating how Jack managed to arrange everything without disturbing her, she dismissed the thought – at that moment, she didn't care.
"Hey," Jack greeted, running his fingers through her hair, his hand resting on her neck.
"Hey. How long was I out?" she inquired, her hand caressing his chest, fingers slipping beneath his T-shirt.
A hitch in his breath accompanied the southward movement of her hand.
"An hour, a little more," he replied, clearing his throat.
"Oh," she murmured, her lips tracing his neck.
In a delicate situation, as her hand ventured further, Jack hesitated before calling, "Honey?"
Sam, however, persisted.
"Sam?" he called again as his predicament became increasingly evident.
"Yes, Jack?" she responded innocently, her hand continuing its explorations.
"Are you sure you want to stay here? Don't you want to go upstairs?" he suggested, swallowing as she playfully nipped at his neck.
She flashed a mischievous smile.
"Do you want to go upstairs?" she countered.
Jack closed his eyes, recognizing her mischievous tone.
"Whatever you want," he managed to say.
Her response was a sly grin.
"Oh, General, those are hazardous words to say," she teased, wetting her lips.
Jack's eyes darkened with desire as he watched her. Sam passionately kissed him, ending any further discussion. The living room, filled with the soft glow of evening light, became a haven for a different kind of distraction, a welcomed diversion from the weight of the day's events.
Sam needed to forget, and Jack was precisely what she needed—body and mind. The kiss deepened, filled with unspoken promises and a shared need to escape reality, if only for a little while. Jack's hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as Sam's fingers moved again and now tangled in his hair.
"Sam," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky, "are you sure?"
She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes with a determination that left no room for doubt. "Absolutely, Jack. I need you."
He nodded, his own need mirrored in his eyes. With a swift movement, they lowered onto the cushions, a tangle of limbs, and whispered endearments.
Their kisses were urgent, filled with hunger building up over emotional turmoil. Sam's hands moved to unbutton Jack's shirt, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. Jack responded kindly, helping her remove her top, his touch igniting a fire under her skin.
"You're amazing," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. "You know that?"
Sam smiled, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "You make me feel amazing, Jack."
They continued to undress each other, discarding each piece of clothing, adding to their growing sense of liberation. When they were finally free of their clothes, Jack took a moment to look at her, his gaze filled with admiration and love.
"God, you're beautiful," he said softly, his hands tracing gentle patterns on her skin.
Sam shivered under his touch, her breath hitching. "So are you," she replied, pulling him down for another searing kiss.
Their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that spoke of familiarity and deep connection. Every touch, every kiss, reaffirmed their bond, a reminder of the love that had seen them through countless trials.
As they reached the peak of their passion, the world outside faded away. For those precious moments, nothing existed except for them—their love, their need, their connection. It was a sanctuary, a refuge from the complexities of their lives.
Afterward, they lay entwined on the couch, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Jack held Sam close, his fingers lazily stroking her hair.
"Feel better?" he asked with a teasing smile.
Sam laughed softly, snuggling closer to him. "Much better. Thank you, Jack."
"Anytime, General," he replied, kissing her forehead.
They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. The day's stresses seemed far away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment.