Disclaimer: To paraphrase Sgt. Schultz, I own nothing. Nothing!
A/N: This is just to please Belle, and I hope it does. It's set in Season 8. It's S/J fluff. That's all you need to know.
It was late – not that you could tell time by any external indicator in their underground world, but Jack O'Neill was tired. He was about to go home for the night – what was left of it – when Samantha Carter called. She said it wasn't urgent, that it could wait until morning, but he could hear the restraint in her tone as she said it, as though it were an effort to force out the words. So, he told her to wait, closed up his office for the night, and made his way down to her lab.
He was barely in the door when she blurted it out. "We've perfected a weapon against the Goa'uld." Jack stopped in his tracks and considered this information as she continued to speak. "I just finished running the tests on the Tok'ra weapon, sir. The science team has altered the compounds in such a way that it will only affect mature symbiotes. The Jaffa will remain unharmed. All we have to do is contact the Tok'ra to pull out all their undercover operatives and we can begin the offensive. We can wipe them all out in one fell swoop."
Jack reached back and closed the door behind him. He spoke casually as he began to stroll around the room. "And you thought this wasn't urgent?"
"Well, Sir, very few people are left on base this late at night. I assumed you would want to hold a briefing in the morning before we acted on this information."
"I see." Jack had reached the corner of the room where the security camera was affixed to the high corner of the wall. With one agile motion, he jumped up and ripped out the wires. He sauntered over towards her desk. "I agree, we – the official 'we' – can't act on this information in the morning."
"I'm sorry, General," Carter said, "but I'm not following you. Is there something we should be doing unofficially?"
Jack held up his hand to silence her as the telephone on the desk in front of him rang. "Colonel Carter's lab, General O'Neill speaking," he answered calmly. "The security camera is out? No, everything is perfectly fine here. No need to worry about it tonight, Colonel Carter is finishing up. Just send someone around in the morning. Yes, goodnight Sergeant."
Colonel Carter eyed the General nervously. She had expected him to be as excited about this information as she was, yet his calm, collected manner did not coincide with his strange, surreptitious behavior. As he made his way to the door and quietly locked it, she tensed. Suddenly, she wondered if he was being controlled by the Goa'uld and planning to kill her and destroy the research. At the same moment that she dismissed the thought as ridiculous, she wrapped her hand tightly around her pen – the sharpest object in reach.
"You're sure this is going to work?"
"Yes, Sir. One hundred percent."
"You know what this means, don't you?"
"What?" she said suspiciously.
He advanced towards her. "We have defeated the Goa'uld."
"Why don't you sound excited about that, Sir?" Sam backed up into her desk as he stepped directly in front of her.
"Because it is a secondary concern for me at the moment, Carter." Jack smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His gaze was intense and direct; Carter resisted the urge to squirm under his inspection.
"And what is your primary concern?"
They stared at each other silently for some time. Sam knew her CO could be a dangerous man, but she had never before felt that danger in him. It was an oddly exciting feeling. Usually, he was an open book, and she could read him fluently. This was one of the few times she didn't know what he was thinking, and while that alarmed her, she also found it mesmerizing. His stare had an almost hypnotic effect. When he began to speak again, it took her a moment to focus on his words.
"We had something of an unspoken agreement, you and I, an agreement to see the fight against the Goa'uld through to the end. The way I look at it, that end has come. So, the question becomes what to do about it. My inclination is to resign as soon as the final offensive has been green-lighted."
"What?" Confusion and surprise battled in Sam's brain. What was he talking about? "Why would you resign?"
Jack gave her a look that clearly implied that she should know the answer to that question. In fact, it implied that she was shockingly ignorant if she didn't, but the whole picture just wouldn't resolve in her mind. She was missing something. With swift and decisive action typical of Jack O'Neill, he supplied the information she lacked.
The kiss was fiercely possessive. Jack pulled Sam's pliant body against his, consciously taking advantage of having caught her off guard. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, allowing no room between them. His free hand tangled in her hair, keeping her mouth firmly against his. He wanted to leave her no doubt as to his intentions, or his determination.
When he finally released her, Sam was dizzy from lack of air and the surge of adrenaline, but she was definitely clear about his meaning. She tried to speak, at first muttering unintelligible syllables somewhat resembling the phrase "Oh, dear God." After exposure to a bit more oxygen, she marshaled her strength and tried again. It was difficult with her commanding officer looking at her as though she were a four-course meal. She managed a breathy whisper. "You can't resign."
"I can and I will. I don't think you're ready to say 'screw the regs,' so that's my best option at this point."
Sam stared at him in amazement bordering on anger. How could he seem so calm, speak so coherently, and be so damn cocky? He was sure after all this time that she would just gratefully fall into his arms? She was speechless, and he knew it, if his smirk was any indication. Placing one arm on either side of her, effectively trapping her against the desk, he leaned in and began seductively kissing her neck.
Her brain located the key word and forced it to leave her mouth. "Pete."
"Dump him," Jack mumbled absently as he moved his lips to her ear.
"I'm… We're…" She just couldn't formulate a thought with Jack doing that.
Jack pulled away and looked at her expectantly. In response, she held up her left hand. Jack took her hand and efficiently removed the ring, setting it on the desk behind her. "Return it," he said as he resumed his interrupted activity.
"Sir," she began, pleading in her voice.
He pulled back and met her eyes again. When he spoke his voice was authoritative and stern. "Never call me 'sir' when I am kissing you, Carter. In fact, never call me 'sir' again." He directed his attention to the other side of her neck, nibbling his way from her earlobe to the collar of her shirt.
"But… you can't resign. The replicators and… the base. Oooh. The…" As much as she struggled, the power of speech kept slipping from her grasp. Of their own volition, her hands had wandered under the General's shirt, which in turn made him a bit more aggressive in his attentions to her, making conscious thought even more difficult.
He was still infuriatingly collected as he spoke between kisses. "The replicators weren't part of the agreement." Kiss. "Done with the Goa'uld..." Kiss. "Done with waiting." Kiss. Then he caught her eyes again, and she found the hypnotic stare had returned. "From now on, you are mine and I am yours. How we handle the details is entirely up to you."
Sam took a deep breath and tried to consider the situation rationally. An unspoken agreement? How do you know when you have one? This was crazy. She absolutely could not allow him to resign. There was only one thing to do. She found her voice.
"Screw the regs."
Jack looked at her with amusement and pleasure. "Uh-huh," he said. "But can it wait? I planned to take care of you first."
Sam grinned. "That goes without saying."