He had always known her tendencies, even from the earliest off-world missions. Shared tents, countless missions, and the close quarters had made it impossible not to notice. Initially, he attempted to avert his gaze, striving to respect boundaries. Yet, in the quiet moments, when he was sure she wasn't watching or during the stillness of her sleep, he couldn't deny the curiosity that had taken root within him. His respect for her was unwavering, and he was careful not to overstep.
Captain Samantha Carter was, in a way, an enigma—someone who exuded an undeniable chill. It wasn't a coldness of character but a physical coldness that seemed to emanate from her. Clad in layers even during sleep, she sought to retain warmth with as many clothes as possible. In stark contrast, Colonel Jack O'Neill was accustomed to a different approach, often content with sleeping in his undershirt and boxers, even in the harshest climates. His body, always warm, seemed impervious to the elements. This stark contrast in their sleeping habits was a constant reminder of their differences.
The turning point occurred during the Antarctica mission, a harrowing experience that left an indelible mark on both. As they faced the prospect of death in an icy cave, the bone-chilling cold clung to him, making even Jack struggle to regain warmth after their ordeal. Eventually, the frost released its grip, and life went back to normal for him. For Captain Carter, however, the cold seemed to have become a permanent resident, a constant reminder of their shared trauma and the potential for change and growth. Their journey and growth in the face of such adversity were a testament to their resilience and strength.
Time passed, promotions came, and Major Carter continued to resist warmth. Jack couldn't help but observe her nightly ritual as the missions off-world continued: bundled up within her sleeping bag, boots being the only exception. A fleeting attempt to broach the subject had been met with a quick dismissal, her cheeks crimson with embarrassment. Jack, lacking the courage to revisit the matter, silently watched over SG-1 as life continued its course. But beneath this silence, a subtle shift in their relationship took place, a shift that would soon become undeniable.
Then, on one of the countless off-world missions, when the topics of discussion had been exhausted and the campfire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the faces of SG-1, the unexpected topic of sleeping clothes was introduced.
Daniel, as usual, was the one responsible.
The night air was crisp, and the stars above shimmered in a display that seemed to mirror the camaraderie among the team.
Daniel, poking at the fire with a stick, broke the silence with a casual, "So, um, what's everyone's deal with sleeping attire? You know, what do you wear when we crash in our sleeping bags in different climates?"
Teal'c raised an eyebrow, his stoic expression unchanged.
"Undergarments are a custom of your people," Teal'c intoned, his voice carrying a hint of analytical detachment. They serve a practical purpose in daily life but are unnecessary during rest periods. However, given the varying temperatures encountered during our missions, I have found it expedient to use boxers for comfort and hygiene—and out of respect for Major Carter."
Eyebrows shot up around the circle, and Sam couldn't help but look at Teal'c with a mixture of surprise and respect, her cheeks blushing profoundly.
Jack, smirking, chimed in, "Let me get that straight. You mean you slept naked before joining SG-1, Teal'c? Really?"
Teal'c nodded, unfazed.
"Indeed. It is customary on Chulak."
"Note to self," Jack muttered with a smirk, "no SG-1 sleepovers on Chulak."
The attention turned to Daniel, who shrugged, "I'm a sock, boxers, and T-shirt guy, regardless of the climate. Comfort is key."
Jack, leaning back, chuckled, "Boxers and a T-shirt work just fine for me. Keep it simple."
Now, all eyes turned to Sam, who had been gazing into the fire, trying to avoid the topic, still blushing from Teal'c's remark. Caught off guard, she hesitated before attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Oh, well, you know, it's not that interesting. Let's talk about something else."
But the team wasn't about to let it go. Jack, ever the persistent leader, leaned in, raising an eyebrow.
"Come on, Carter, spill it. What's your sleepwear strategy?"
She sighed, an even more pronounced blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"Okay, fine. I'm always cold, so I layer up. It's nothing exciting."
The team exchanged glances, curiosity lingering in the air, but respecting her privacy, they shifted the conversation to more neutral territory, Jack leading the way. The campfire tales continued, but the unspoken revelation about their varying sleep habits added a touch of unexpected intimacy to the night on that distant planet.
The topic of sleepwear preferences faded into the background, its significance lying dormant until a pivotal moment arose between Sam and Jack after so many years of unspoken tension. The turning point?
Marriage.
It was not just any marriage but a union so personal that it required a presidential dispensation order for them to tie the knot. As soon as the bureaucratic hurdles were cleared, Jack wasted no time. He proposed the idea of eloping to Vegas, and Sam agreed excitedly.
Without unnecessary delays, they caught a plane to the city of lights, where an intimate chapel became the setting for their weddings. With only the essential witnesses to ensure the legality of the union, Jack and Sam exchanged vows that went beyond the realm of command and camaraderie.
Post-ceremony, they retreated to a hotel for the much-anticipated honeymoon. The air was charged with a different kind of electricity that resonated with the deep connection between two who had weathered the challenges of interstellar adventures together. The hotel room, a sanctuary for their newfound commitment, became a haven for shared secrets and unspoken understandings.
Their inaugural night as a married couple unfolded seamlessly, devoid of any clothing concerns, as they luxuriated in the intimacy of discovering each other's bodies. The hotel room became a cocoon where inhibitions were shed, and the temperature soared to scalding heights—each moment was a testament to the newfound intensity of their connection. In truth, the entire honeymoon was characterized by a continual blaze, a fervent heat that mirrored the passion shared between them.
The simplicity of their honeymoon bliss gave way to a more complex reality as Sam found herself stationed at Area 51 in Nevada. At the same time, Jack navigated the halls of Homeworld Security in Washington, D.C. The distance between their assignments was bridged only by periodic reunions, and with those reunions came a return of the sleepwear question that had once been a mere campfire curiosity.
The intricacies of sharing a bed became apparent as their lives, now intricately joined, unfolded across two separate locations. What initially seemed trivial threatened to become a challenge for the newlyweds, particularly once the honeymoon glow had dimmed.
The first conversation about sleepwear choices surfaced during Jack's first visit to Nevada.
It was the height of summer, and with the expectation of spending most of the weekend in bed, he packed light. However, he was taken aback upon arriving at Sam's small apartment. Despite the oppressive heat outside, all the windows were wide open, inviting the scorching desert air inside.
"What the…"
Jack, already drenched in sweat despite the rental car's air conditioning, swiftly closed everything in sight and cranked up the AC.
It took considerable time for the living room's air to become breathable again. Seeking relief, Jack grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and sank into the couch, attempting to cool down.
Twenty minutes later, Sam walked in, her surprise evident as she spotted him on the couch.
"Jack? What are you doing here? You're early," she remarked, checking her wristwatch.
He was supposed to arrive in one hour, not to be seated in her living room.
Jack finished his cold beer and stood up, his T-shirt still clinging to his back. At least the sweating had subsided.
"Hey," he greeted, planting a hot, wet kiss on her lips.
"Hey," she replied, her body shivering immediately as the air conditioning hit her.
Despite feeling the chill, as her hands ran through his damp hair, she decided to endure the drop in temperature. It was clear he was overheated.
"So, how was your flight?" She placed her briefcase on a chair without removing her jacket—a departure from her usual routine when alone.
Still, in a soaked T-shirt and khaki pants, Jack looked at his wife in dress blues as if she were dressed for winter.
"The flight was fine. Are you okay? Aren't you… hot dressed like that?" His hands gestured to her full dress blues, and the temperatures soared well above 100F.
Sam bit her lip.
"I'll change after I shower," she replied, evading a direct answer.
Jack furrowed his brow.
"Sam?"
Seeing that there was no way she could avoid the topic, she swallowed hard.
"No, Jack, I'm not hot. I'm cold, actually," she admitted, glancing at the air conditioning.
He followed her gaze and raised both eyebrows.
"Cold? In this heat? Don't you turn on the air conditioning when you get home? I walked in and found all the windows open. The heat was pouring in; the house felt like a furnace," he said, puzzled.
Sam swallowed again.
"Okay, so I know this will sound strange, but I spend the whole day working with the air conditioning on—it's freezing cold. I have no option of turning it off because it's…you know, the base, and we work with sensitive material," she tried to explain.
He continued to look at her.
"I like coming home and feeling the heat warm me up. And no, I don't usually turn on the air conditioning," she admitted slowly.
Jack looked amused. They had been discovering many things about each other since they married, but he had known this for a long time—his wife was always chilly. The extent of it, however, was becoming more evident now.
"So, you're cold now?" he asked, slowly approaching her.
Sam leaned against the couch.
"Yes," she admitted in a low voice.
"Even if I start doing this?" he asked, kissing her. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck while his hands unbuttoned her jacket.
Sam was still cold, but he was making things much more bearable, she must admit. Her lips moved to his neck.
"You can always see if your body warmth is enough for both of us," she said with a wicked smile.
Jack laughed against her neck and lifted her.
"Let's find out, Colonel," he said, kissing her again as he walked them towards her bedroom.
Their intimacy did not raise issues regarding Sam's body temperature—none at all. The real challenge arose when they settled into bed for sleep. It was a stark contrast—she felt cold, he radiated warmth, and finding a middle ground proved elusive.
He preferred minimal clothing on the bed and the soothing hum of air conditioning, while she insisted on wearing warm fleece pajamas and socks, even in the summer. The comforter was her steadfast companion, and if it were up to her, the room temperature would mimic the scorching heat of the desert.
As they attempted to navigate these conflicting sleep preferences, it became increasingly evident that their nighttime routines were creating a challenge. The struggle between his desire for a cooler sleeping environment and her insistence on warmth became a dilemma whenever they shared a bed. Usually, he ended up without sheets covering him and her under a bundle of blankets.
After things had gotten heated and intimate between them, there was no problem whatsoever during that period.
Then Sam left Nevada and returned to SGC and SG-1 to fight the Ori. The desert temperatures were behind them, but the problems weren't.
Tensions reached a boiling point when a scorching heatwave swept through Washington D.C., coinciding with Sam's weekend off from SG-1 and General Landry. The prospect of spending four uninterrupted days with her husband thrilled and unnerved her. They had never shared such an extended period since their honeymoon, a distinctly different experience.
Sam found herself on the verge of an emotional breakdown as the plane touched down. Her anxiety had built even before she reunited with Jack. The mere thought of spending an entire weekend at home with him, coupled with the oppressive heat, became a source of trepidation.
Deciding to set aside her temperature-related concerns and adapt to the circumstances, Sam chose to endure four days of air conditioning for Jack's comfort. Despite his driver's assumption that the cooling air would be welcome, she shivered during the ride home, trying to conjure images of the warm desert planets they had explored or even her old apartment in Nevada.
Upon arriving, she thanked the driver and entered their house.
"Hi, I've just arrived home. Love you, Sam." She hit the sent button, and the message was delivered.
Freezing, she promptly retreated to their bathroom for a scalding shower, attempting to relax her tense body and not even waiting for him to text her back.
When she got out of the shower, she checked her phone. She had a new message.
"Good. I'm sorry, but I'll be late tonight. I have meetings. I love you more, Jack."
Sam sighed and opened her bag, taking some comfortable, warm clothes. This meant she had some time to relax before the inevitable cold.
When Jack eventually arrived home, he found Sam in the living room, engrossed in TV, wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and… fluffy pink socks. To his surprise, the air conditioning was off despite the heat wave. Jack sighed heavily, placing his hat on the hallway table. Despite the sweltering heat outside, their house resembled a sauna. Attempting to be gentle, he gave her a forehead kiss.
"Hey," he greeted.
Sam muted the TV and turned around, smiling.
"Hey," she replied, quickly grabbing another remote and switching on the air conditioning. A blush colored her face, catching Jack off guard.
He began unbuttoning his jacket, his gaze scrutinizing her.
"Are you all right?" he asked cautiously.
"Yes, fine," she assured, still smiling.
Jack eyed the remote on the couch and the cooling air that started to fill their living room.
"Okay, I'm going to shower, and then we can have dinner."
She nodded, still seated. Jack regarded her suspiciously but headed to their bedroom since she seemed fine, although overdressed.
As soon as he left, Sam retrieved a blanket from the floor, covering herself and closing her eyes. She estimated she had at least ten minutes before he returned, bracing herself for the real challenge that awaited them throughout the rest of the night.
After a refreshing cold shower, Jack opted for just his boxers and a T-shirt, aware that Sam preferred him not to go bare-chested in the house. Upon descending, he found her still in the living room, seemingly engrossed in something. However, he immediately noticed the blanket covering her legs and arms. Closing his eyes briefly, he sensed something was amiss. She wasn't okay; she was cold and had only pretended otherwise for his sake.
Jack's heart tightened at her selflessness. They needed to discuss this and finally reach a compromise.
"Sam."
He entered the living room, startling her. She attempted to dispose of the blanket discreetly, but he was quicker. He slowly picked it up and sat on the couch next to her. She was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry, Jack. You can use the air conditioning all you want; I don't mind."
Her eyes were firmly on the wall in front of them.
Jack held the blanket in his hands, also staring straight ahead.
"And while the air conditioning is on, you freeze to death? Is that your idea of a relaxed weekend with me?" he asked slowly.
Sam swallowed.
"I'll adapt, Jack. We're together; that's all that matters," she said, placing a hand on his arm.
Jack turned his head to her.
"You were always cold, Sam, even when we were off-world at SG-1. You slept almost fully clothed. I noticed," he admitted.
Sam opened her mouth but closed it immediately.
"You... you never said anything," she murmured.
Jack placed the blanket on the couch.
"What was I supposed to tell you? I knew what I wanted to do, but I couldn't do it. I can do it now, but it only solves part of the problem. You're still cold in bed when we're just sleeping, even if you try to hide it from me," he explained.
Sam blushed furiously.
"I don't want you to get cold, too," she said in a low voice.
Jack sighed.
"I think we've established that I don't get easily cold, so I can keep you warm if you let me."
Suddenly, Sam got up and started pacing, her mind in turmoil.
"Sure, we hardly see each other, and when we do, instead of having a wife in your bed, you have an ice block! How sexy is that?" she almost yelled.
Jack looked at her, baffled.
"Is that what's been bothering you, Sam?"
She stopped pacing and looked at him, her exquisite blue eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I've tried everything, Jack, but the cold doesn't leave me. I'm always cold; I don't know what to do anymore. And you don't have to suffer because of that. It's my problem, not yours," she confessed.
Jack stood up like a flash.
"We are married, Samantha Carter-O'Neill, and you seem to forget that sometimes. So, if you have a problem, I have a problem. We have a problem. If you're cold, I'll warm you up," he declared, pulling her towards him.
Sam attempted to put her hands on his chest to keep him away, but he didn't give her any chance.
"I'll be your body heater," he said slowly as he began to kiss her.
Sam moaned, her hands entwined in his hair. Suddenly, the air conditioning didn't seem to bother her so much.
After their heartfelt conversation in the living room, Jack and Sam resolved to find a compromise. They began with their house in Washington, D.C., since Sam frequently visited it whenever she had breaks from her SG-1 duties.
Sam tackled the issue by thoroughly researching everything until she discovered a solution that met their needs. Now, she had to discuss it with Jack. Unfortunately, it would have to be done over the phone since she was back in Colorado Springs. That night, she shared the news when he got home and called her.
"I've found a possible solution for our sleeping arrangement problems," she announced.
Jack unbuttoned his jacket and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer.
"Did you invent it?" His tone was a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Sam chuckled. "No, someone beat me to it. It's already been invented."
Jack sipped his beer and closed the fridge door.
"I can't wait to hear it."
Sam cleared her throat. "It's called a smart mattress with temperature control," she explained slowly.
Jack paused mid-drink. After spending his days at Homeworld Security stuck with dull senators, ambassadors, and politicians, the things he heard still amazed him. She still amazed him. Always.
"Smart mattress? Why? Is it going to talk to us?"
Sam started to laugh.
"No, honey. It doesn't talk," she said, amused.
Jack sat on the couch, taking off his tie.
"So, how come it's smart?"
Sam wished they could have this discussion in person, but the phone would have to do.
"I'll keep it simple, Jack," she began.
"Please do." He craved for simplicity in his life.
"The mattress has built-in heating and cooling features. This means your side stays cool while my side stays warmer. We can adjust the temperature individually."
Jack raised his eyebrows.
"That's fancy. What's the catch?"
Sitting with her laptop open and several options displayed on the screen, Sam sighed.
"The cost. Smart mattresses are more expensive than traditional ones, and we have limited options. The market for this is still relatively niche."
Jack's shoes were already off, lying on the carpet.
"But do they work?"
Sam had read all the specs and reviews.
"I believe so," she said confidently.
He put the beer on the coffee table.
"Then, problem solved. We buy one for our house here and see how it goes."
Sam, seated on her couch in her warm fleece pajamas and socks, felt her heart swell with love for the man on the other end of the phone.
"Okay, I'll order it and have it delivered there," she offered.
Jack's eyebrow rose as he remembered one thing:
"Wait. You said it was smart. How am I supposed to deal with it?"
Sam bit her lip to avoid laughing.
"They have a delivery and support service. If you have any questions, you can ask them when they deliver the mattress. If I'm free, I'll try to come the closest weekend after it's delivered."
Jack was now smiling broadly.
"We need to test-drive the smart thing, Colonel Carter."
Sam blushed and rolled her eyes. Marriage had done nothing to change his behavior, and she loved him even more for that.
"Of course we do."
"In that case, order away."
They exchanged more pleasantries and intimate words before hanging up, and Sam made the online order. The new mattress will be delivered in one week. She prayed that SG-1 would be free by then so she could go to D.C. for the "test drive."
The arrival of the smart mattress marked a new chapter in Jack and Sam's domestic life. It was a sleek, modern furniture that promised to revolutionize their sleep. The delivery men were impressed by the house, and Jack, ever the host, offered them beer while they set up the mattress.
When they were gone, Jack grabbed his phone and sent a message to his wife.
"The smart thing is looking at me and waiting for you. Love, Jack."
Then he picked up his hat and briefcase and returned to the Pentagon. He had taken the morning off to be home and received the order. Already in his car, his phone vibrated with an incoming message.
"I'll try to be there this weekend. Love, Sam."
Jack smiled and silently prayed that the Ori would give them a break.
The following week passed in a blur of missions and meetings. When the day finally arrived, Sam found herself unusually anxious. She secured a few days off and flew to Washington, D.C. She knew the mattress had already been delivered and set up, with the delivery team explaining everything to Jack as he had told her repeatedly over the phone.
"Do you know this thing elevates? If you want to read in bed and stuff?"
Sam had read the features, and she already knew, but the delivery team had apparently explained everything to her husband.
"Yes, Jack, I know."
"So, get your ass on the plane because we need to explore this fully."
His peculiar romantic request left her laughing as she disconnected and returned to her lab. Daniel tried to ask her why she was so amused, but she told him it was just some domestic stuff, and he didn't want to know.
"Oh…right. Not interested then". Daniel swallowed and left her lab quickly.
The anticipation built as Sam's flight approached D.C. She hoped this smart mattress would solve their sleep differences and was eager to see Jack. When she finally arrived at their house, Jack greeted her with a mischievous grin.
"Ready to test drive this smart thing, Colonel?"
Sam laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. They spent the evening adjusting the settings, laughing at Jack's exaggerated reactions to the technology, and marveling at the comfort.
They climbed into bed, the mattress cushioning them gently. Sam pressed a button on the remote, and the mattress hummed softly.
"Warmer," she said, testing the controls.
Jack smiled, feeling the cool air enveloping him. "Perfect," he replied.
"It's like sleeping in the future," Sam mused, her eyes sparkling excitedly.
Jack grinned. "Or in a luxury spaceship," he countered.
That night, as they lay side by side, each perfectly comfortable with their customized temperatures, Sam whispered, "Looks like we found our solution."
Jack reached out, taking her hand. "We always do, Sam. We always do."
The smart mattress quietly adjusted to their needs as they drifted to sleep, ensuring they rested well and were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
The mattress proved to be a game-changer. No more midnight wrestling for the covers, no more shivering or sweating. They both slept better, and their mornings were filled with a renewed sense of energy and vitality.
Sam found herself looking forward to her trips to D.C. more than ever. The house had become a sanctuary where she could relax and recharge. Jack, in turn, appreciated her visits even more, enjoying the quiet domesticity that their relationship had evolved into despite its long-distance nature.
As the months passed, their lives settled into a comfortable rhythm. The smart mattress had become an integral part of their routine, a silent witness to their growing love and companionship.
On the other places that didn't have a smart mattress, they adjusted.
When the sweltering heat made its presence felt, and no intimacy was involved, the air conditioning would stay on, allowing Sam to sleep in the comforting warmth of Jack's embrace. His body became a natural heat source, providing her the necessary warmth for a relaxed night's sleep.
On colder nights, Sam returned to her trusty fleece pajamas, socks, and comforter, yet Jack's body remained her steadfast heater. It became a routine that worked seamlessly for both of them, resolving any previous issues with their sleeping arrangements. Jack was a comforting source of warmth as soon as she entered their bed. It became a habit they were both unwilling to relinquish.
The first challenge of their marriage was behind them, but as they would soon learn, the hardest battles were yet to come.