Colorado, 1994
Rolling over in bed, Sam appreciated the softness of the sheets against her bare skin. She stretched slowly, pushing her long blonde hair back with a lazy gesture, wondering what had just woken her from her sleep. She quickly understood as she felt Jack stir beside her. Another nightmare.
She turned to face him, having learned the hard way that touching him could be risky; his military training and sharp reflexes could kill her in his sleep, or at least seriously injure her.
They had been seeing each other for two years, once a week, always in a hotel. They had never labeled their relationship. Sam had played the role of mistress for several months until Jack's divorce was finalized; she wasn't sure if she occupied any other role that day.
She didn't care, to be honest.
They had never promised each other anything. There was an unspoken agreement between them: expect nothing from the other, take only what was offered at the moment. Yet, she had no one else but him, and he knew that; had understood it long ago. As for him, he thought that even under torture, he would struggle to admit that she was the only one he had.
Yet, she was the one who had helped him overcome the loss of Charlie, the one who had rekindled the spark in the eyes of a broken man. He was the one who had helped her to let go again with a man, the one who had breathed life back into the lungs of a woman who had been holding her breath for far too long. But they had labeled nothing. They were just two soldiers in pain who had found solace in each other's arms.
They met once a week and lost themselves in each other's bodies. Few words were exchanged. They didn't need them; actions spoke louder than words anyway.
Jack finally opened his eyes, feeling Sam's intense gaze on his face. He slowly reconnected with reality by getting lost in her blue eyes. She had been amazed at how much he always wore that mask. How difficult it was to get him to let his guard down, even during an intense orgasm, he seemed to be in total control. And how she loved it, letting him have the control.
She often wondered how unhealthy it was for a woman afraid of men to love surrendering total control of her body to one of them like that.
He reached out to grab his pack of cigarettes, but she placed a delicate hand on his cheek, drawing his attention, before pressing her naked body against his. She didn't like him smoking, and he knew it. He abandoned the idea of a cigarette and focused on the sighs he could elicit from her as he traced his fingers over her body.
Because that was life with Samantha Carter; she didn't impose anything on him, she merely suggested compromises.
He found himself realizing that she had captured something in him that no other woman had ever seen, not even Sara. Maybe that's why the nightmare had shaken him so much.
Jack often wondered what he had done to make such a young woman, with her whole future ahead of her, be interested in him this way. He regularly bet, when he thought about it, on the appeal of the superior officer. But after all, they had waited until his retirement was official to do anything, so... where was the harm?
But as he lost himself in the sensations her body offered, alternating the power of his thrusts while biting her in various places, so great was his overflow of emotions, he finally understood.
They reached orgasm together, and as Sam fell back asleep comfortably nestled in his arms, Jack remained still, silently staring at the ceiling as he recalled the trigger for his nightmare.
Last month, they had been invited to the Pentagon for an event organized by the President. He had felt like a show animal and had been about to refuse, but she had asked him to go, claiming they could see each other more than once in the same week for a change, breaking another one of their rules in the process.
He had found himself engaged in an uninteresting conversation with General West, who had also been invited to the evening when she arrived. He had taken the time to look her over and had probably lost himself in his observation because the General brought him back to reality with a conspicuous throat clearing.
"She is impressive, isn't she?" he had asked in a lewd tone that made Jack want to introduce his fist to the General's perverse smile.
However, he had merely shrugged indifferently, his cold mask still in place. "Carter? I wouldn't have bet on her before heading to Abydos, Sir."
She gave him a smile that lit up the room, a smile she reserved only for him, and he responded with a nod, implicitly promising a warm reunion. West observed the scene before leaning towards Jack, a serious expression on his face.
"It's funny how young Lieutenants are always drawn to old Colonels," he said, pausing, having gained Jack's interest. "Even though we all know there's nothing worse for stalling or ruining a career."
The General walked away after a curt nod, and Jack exhaled a sigh, not really paying attention to the words that had just been spoken.
But if he was staring at the ceiling that night, it was because the General's words had finally reached his brain. Sam was still a Lieutenant, exhausting herself with trips back and forth from the Pentagon just to see him, and… he was 16 years older than her, for crying out loud!
His breath suddenly caught at the enormity of the situation. He was just a selfish, opportunistic old man who didn't deserve such happiness. He had killed his son; destroyed his marriage, and now he was continuing by ruining the future of a woman who deserved the world at her feet.
Using all his military training, he left the bed, the room, the hotel, and then her life.
He wouldn't come the following week to meet her in that room. He wouldn't answer her calls the next month when she tried to understand. He wouldn't give her any more news.
It was over.