Title: It Don't Mean a Thing

Author: Gail R. Delaney RmceWrtrhotmail.com

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sam/Jack

Summary: Jack shows Sam a side of himself she never knew existed. Fluff, pure and simple.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, Jack, Sam, Teal'c ... none of them. I don't make any money from writing these; don't intend to make any money. The praise and adoration is enough snort

Genre: Romance, fun, UST

Timeline: Season 7 prior to Lost City, post Chimera

Feedback: Absolutely!

Archives: At my site, ff.net. Here. Anywhere else, just ask. I'll probably say yes... just want to know where.

Chinese lanterns in varying colors hung at different heights, stringing from one end of the dance hall to the other, casting a soft glow over the floor. Cool evening air came in through the open windows near the ceiling, filling the large space with the smell of lilacs and gardenias from somewhere nearby. The dancers on the floor moved – for the most part, except for the uncoordinated few among them – in practiced dance steps as the trumpet and bass melody of Little Brown Jug reverberated off the walls.

Jack O'Neill stood just inside the dance hall door, his fingers snapping and his wrist bobbing without thought with the beat of the song. He looked around, and thought to himself that whoever had been in charge of decorating for this little shindig had done a great job.

"You see, Teal'c, unlike any other century we've know, the United States went through some of its greatest cultural changes in the twentieth century. Each decade developed its own sense of ... style. Music. Dance. Entertainment. Science," Daniel explained as he and Teal'c joined Jack.

"And the fifth decade of your twentieth century is that which we are mimicking this evening?" Teal'c asked.

"Yes. We just call it the 1940's. At that time, we were involved in World War II."

"Your world was at war?"

"Well, the major powers of our planet were, yes. Dances such as this were often held to keep up the morale of the solders fighting overseas. There were dances like this both here in the United States, as well as in England and other allied countries."

"Daniel, will you just let T relax and enjoy himself," Jack growled out, turning back to face two of the other three members of SG-1.

He paused to check out Teal'c get-up in the dim light of the dance hall. The big Jaffa wore tan slacks and a colorful Hawaiian shirt with large palm fronds and '40's style renditions of hula dancers. On his head, he wore a wide brimmed straw hat with a multi-colored band pulled down close to his eyes. Jack shook his head. Only Teal'c could wear stuff like that without batting an eye, and made it look perfectly normal. Daniel, on the other hand, looked like an overgrown school kid in a white Navy uniform... square collar, blue trim and all. He just needed a giant lollipop and he could pass as Little Lord Flaunt-yer-boy, or whatever.

"I find it most interesting, O'Neill, that your society has gone through such great change in such a short period of time. On Chulak, our way of life changed very little from generation to generation."

"Yeah, well, why don't you just try to relax and forget about the history lesson for once. Huh?"

Teal'c did his eyebrow 'thing' and bowed his head, his face disappearing completely behind the wide rim of the hat. Jack squinted his eyes and scanned the room for any familiar faces.

Okay... so one familiar face in particular.

"Hey, there's Sam."

Jack looked in the direction of Daniel's raised arm and looked off across the mass of heads. Then he saw her, and something in his gut clenched.


She wore this sleeveless halter dress thing that hugged her body and left most of her back exposed. Straps angled from beneath her arms to fall over her shoulders and come together behind her neck. The full skirt fell in waves around her legs, ending several inches above her ankles, accentuated by a hot pair of strappy shoes. The killer was the seam of her stockings that ran up the back of each leg, disappearing beneath the hem of her skirt.

Her hair was curled and rolled smooth in perfect period style. Then she turned towards them and saw the three of them standing near the door. And once again, Jack's gut clenched and his blood flashed hot. Her make-up was more than he was used to, but the bright red lipstick, rouge-stuff, and thick eyelashes certainly was a look he could get used to.


"Sam!" Daniel called, waving his arm.

She raised her hand in a wave, said something to Sergeant Siler who nodded, and walked towards them. Jack did his damndest to plaster a non-chalant look on his face, but it was gonna be hard with his 2IC looking that good. Damn good!

He just held the grin.

Wow! Jack looked good! Damn good!

Although the uniform he wore tonight wasn't all that different than the dress blues she had seen him in a dozen times before, there was just something about the way he held himself in the World War II clothes. Whatever it was, it had Sam's nerves dancing and her heart pounding. No matter how she tried to tell her body not to react so intensely to her CO's presence, most of the time her body didn't listen. Like tonight. Her insides were dancing faster than the beat of One O'Clock Jump.

"Wow, Sam, you look amazing," Daniel said as she reached them. He touched her arm and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Thank you, Daniel. You guys look great..." she said, avoiding direct eye contact with Jack. She was afraid her eyes would just scream 'you look great, Jack! You!'

"You are, indeed, of stunning beauty this evening, Major Carter."

Sam dipped her chin, her cheeks flushing at the compliments. Even if they were from Daniel and Teal'c. Despite her best efforts, her gaze flicked towards him. And her breath caught when she found herself under his dark, heated gaze.

Jack's lips parted, and he paused before speaking. "What they said."

Sam smiled. Off handed, and not completely out there, but it was a compliment nonetheless. "Thank you," she said. "I think a 1940's theme for General Hammond's birthday party was a great idea. I love this music. My father used to play big band stuff all the time when he was home."

"It is a most interesting form of dance," Teal'c said, looking out on the crowd. "I have studied many forms of dance on your world, but thus far the most intriguing has been what you refer to as disco. Will there be disco dancing this evening?'

Sam pressed her lips together to suppress the chuckle as Jack arched his eyebrows and looked at Teal'c. "Sorry, T. We're about thirty years early for that."

"This type of dance is called swing," Daniel explained. "You are often, um... swinging... your partner, as you can see."

"It appears complicated."

"Nah," Jack said with a wave of his hand. "Piece of cake."

Sam looked at him, and he did a double take when he realized she watched him.


"Do you swing, sir?"

There it was. The challenge. Would he bite?

A slow, sexy grin gave a slight bow to his lips and butterflies took flight in Sam's stomach. She raised her chin, pulling her lip through her teeth as she waited.

"I've been known to cut a rug from time to time."

"Cut a rug? Why would one wish to damage their furnishings as part of a mating ritual?"

Sam gasped and snapped her head around to stare at Teal'c, matching Jack and Daniel's reactions.

"Excuse me?" Jack asked.

"Is dancing with a partner not a form of mating ritual on your world, O'Neill?"

"Not like... Geez, Teal'c... it's dancing!"

"Jack, in many societies dance is considered a prelude to courtship. Sometimes even... um... mating."

"Thank you, Daniel," Jack snapped, and Sam curled her lips into her teeth to hide her smile. "Dancing isn't a prelude to ... anything... unless, of course there's wine and ... ah, hell! Come on, Carter. Let's show Teal'c what this is all about."

Before Sam could say a word, Jack had her elbow in a firm yet gentle grasp and led her towards the dance floor. The catchy trumpet sounds of It Don't Mean a Thing began as his fingers slid down her bare arm and his hand grasped hers.

Two beats later Major Samantha Carter and Colonel Jack O'Neill were showing everyone in attendance just how swing dancing was done. A giddy kind of excitement bubbled just below the surface of Sam's skin as Jack led her through the dance.

With a burst of laughter, Sam laughed as Jack pulled her back from a twirl and she came against his chest. One of his hands seemed to instinctively find hers, and the other arms came around her body to hold her close as they danced. A crooked, sexy grin twisted Jack's lips as he looked down at her and she gasped for air.

"I didn't know you had it in you, sir," she gasped as he spun them round the dance floor so faster everyone else was a blur.

"Don't talk, Carter. Just dance."

In all honestly – whether it was the speed of the dance or the close proximity to Jack – her breath was too short to talk and dance both. So, she just hung on for the ride and let Jack lead the way. She realized, as they made their fourth or fifth pass around the room and Jack spun her away from him – their hands clasped – that the majority of the people in attendance had stopped to watch.

Heat flashed in her cheeks as she came against him again, her arm up on his shoulder.

"We seem to be the star attraction, sir," she huffed.



Sam clung to his arms, the muscles bunching beneath the rough material of his uniform jacket as Jack dipped her. Deep. He brought her to her feet again as the song ended, spinning them together one last time to the final beats. The band stopped, only to be replaced by the cheers, whistles and claps of their peers. She pressed one hand to her chest, fighting to calm the riotous pounding of her heart and the short gasps of air that fought to fill her lungs. Pleasantly, her other hand was held captive by Jack's large one.

He stepped away, still holding her hand, and bowed deeply. Sam couldn't help but smile wider and laugh softly at his antics. Moonlight Serenade was the next song to play, and as couples moved onto the dance floor, closing the space around them, Jack led her to the outer perimeter of the room.

They passed by the punch bowl, and he grabbed two paper cups as they continued to one of the doors that led outside. Sam sipped at the sweet – and slightly spiked – punch, relishing the cool bite as it quenched her throat. The air outside was cool and refreshing, washing over her hot skin in a bracing wave.

Silently, they walked a ways from the dance hall towards a cluster of trees with a single light post and some arranged flowers in small beds of grass. Sam stepped onto the grass, enjoying the cushioned softness beneath her high heels.

"That was fun," she said, finally catching her breath.

She glanced towards Jack, and her newly found breath caught in her throat. The light of the streetlamp lit his hair and highlighted his features, but did nothing to diminish the intensity with which he watched her. One corner of his lips tipped ever so slightly.

"Yeah, it was."

"I never would have guessed you could dance like that, sir."

"Did you think I could dance at all?"

Sam thought about it for a moment, and decided it would serve no purpose to lie. "No, not really."

Jack set his paper cup down on the bench nearby. Sam watched as he walked towards her and took the nearly empty cup from her hand, returning to the bench to set it beside his own. He walked back towards her, his gaze locked with hers, and Sam held her breath. What it was she anticipated, she didn't even know... but somehow her blood hummed with the knowledge it was coming.

The fingers of one hand touched her bare shoulder, and she fought the shiver as he moved the calloused tips down her arm until they touched her own fingers. Then, just as he had inside on the dance floor, he grasped her hand and pulled her towards him.

She slipped easily into the customary dance position. Her right hand in his left held between them near his heart – her left arm up on his shoulder as his arm circled her waist. The soft music inside drifted out through the open windows and they gently swayed to the music.

Sam closed her eyes and sighed as Jack's jaw rested against her temple, his fingers playing gently along the bare skin of her back. Slowly, they moved in a circle under the light of the lamppost. It was gentle... easy... and despite everything that told her it shouldn't be... dancing under the stars with Jack was natural.

For one brief moment, her thoughts rioted against her heart to remind her that she had attended a dance not a month before with Pete. They had danced together to similar music. She should have tasted the bitter sting of guilt for enjoying the sensation of being in another man's arms. If anything, she felt guilt for not feeling guilt – the paradox twisting in her mind to confuse her.

The thoughts disappeared when Jack turned her open hand into his chest, holding it there with his own. His heartbeat caressed her palm in a slow, steady, strong rhythm. The hand on her back slid up further, the rough calluses that represented his strength and masculinity sending shivers over her skin.

Sam drew in a long, slightly shaky breath. His hold tightened on her, drawing her just a fraction closer.

As the music ended, Sam pulled back and looked up at him. Her heels gave her just the slightest bit of advantage and she could almost look him square in the face, and what she saw in his eyes made her heartbeat jump. There had been a handful of times in the last few years that she had caught that particular ... heat... in his eyes. That certain way that he looked at her, a way she hoped he reserved only for her, that reminded her just how much more there was – there could be – between them.

They stopped moving, and his hand slid up her back towards her shoulder, naturally urging her arm to shift higher and her fingers to whisper across the short hairs along his collar. His warm breath, scented with the strawberries from the bunch, moved across her cheek.

Sam's gaze shifted to his lips – those perfectly sculpted, perfectly shaped lips – as they parted slightly and his body shifted forward.

This was it...Holy Hannah!

"You two were amazing!"

Jack's arms fell away and he stepped back as Daniel strode towards them, Teal'c following behind. Sam glanced away as she smoothed a hand over her hair and the front of her dress.

"I concur with Daniel Jackson. Your dancing was indeed impressive."

"That dip! Great!" Daniel said enthusiastically, and Sam wondered to herself how much punch he had already drank.

"Yeah, well, I believe that if you're going to dip a woman – dip her deep." His dark gaze shifted to her, and Sam felt it over her skin like a caress. "Deep and often."

Her insides melted and pooled.

"You two are great together!"

His gaze still held hers. "That we are, Daniel."

Jack finally looked away, and some of the tension released from Sam's body. Tension she was almost unwilling to give up.

"Shall we go watch the General open his gifts?"

Sam still couldn't find her voice for several minutes, and for the rest of the night whenever she found herself beneath Jack's gaze, she wanted to kick Daniel in the shin.