Ok, this is my first SG:1 specific story, so please don't flame me to badly.
Not our problem
She lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling. She'd never expected to see this particular ceiling from this particular viewpoint, but she wasn't about to complain. She moved her head to look at the man sleeping next to her: he seemed, well, different. Maybe it was just the face he showed when he was asleep, all his defences down. Maybe he was just tired after the night before.
It had been, well, intense.
Seven years they had spent dancing round their feelings for each other, trying not to let them show to the outside world. It had been a living hell: working together, spending so much time together, almost losing each other, but in the end it had all worked out. There was still the slight problem of him being her CO, and the Air forces rather strict rules about this sort of thing (i.e. not allowed). But they had finally reached the point where they couldn't hide it anymore: he had kissed her, and she had kissed him and one thing had led to another. And so here she was in his bed.
He stirred, his eyes opening, slowly getting used to the light that shone in from the window, making the entire room glow. He looked at her, a huge grin on his face, "Why good morning."
"Good morning to you to." She smiled back, "I thought you where going to sleep all day."
He leaned over to look at the clock, "It's only 0630."
"And we have a mission briefing at 0800." She laughed, "We better move."
He looked around the room, "Where's my shirt?"
"It's hanging from the lampshade."
"How did it get there?"
"If you need to ask that, you better get the Doc to check your short-term memory!"
He looked at her, and she saw his eyes go wide as the memories returned, "Oh, yes, that. I didn't know you could do that?"
She giggled again, "Four years of gymnastics while at school."
"That explains a lot." He leaned over and kissed her, "I just want you to knew, what ever happens, I don't regret any of this: they want to fire me, again, then let them. I love you Sam, and I want to be with you. If the brass can't deal with it, it's not our problem."
Sam smiled, pulling his head down to kiss him again, "Good."