AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sort of a sequel to 'The Difference Between Men And Boys' and 'Certainties'.

History, Repeated

He'd forgotten how much fun it was to make out in the back seat of a car with the captain of the cheerleading squad. He'd also forgotten how it felt to be charged full of hormones and randy as a...well, as a really randy thing.

Then, again, the first time around, he hadn't known things like g-spots, oral sex, or rodeo positions. It made a lot of difference the second time around.

Right now, he was just happy to have his arms full of Sam Carter.

"You know," he said when they came up for air again, "I'm almost afraid to ask where you learned to kiss like that."

She smirked down at him, a full-watt Sam Carter special, guaranteed to blow your mind. "A lady never tells."

He brushed a finger over her lips. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

Jack suspected that for most dates, this was fairly mild - boring by modern standards. Making out in a car parked in a rest area by the highway? Most guys would have had their hands under her top by now.

Oh, God - she had her hands under his shirt. Cold hands, too!

He hissed as her fingers flexed on his belly. "Ever heard of warming your hands up first?"

Naturally, the woman ignored him. She'd gotten good at it in the last couple of years. Seven years of being a good little obedient 2IC, then get her into a high school and all the obedience went away. "Mmhmm."

Her fingers - and her hips, straddled across his - were getting down to business. "Sam, our first time is not going to be in the backseat of a car."

"Sure, Jack," she said airily, and continued to slide her hands up his chest. Jack was finding it hard to breathe. And he found he wasn't minding the cold, either, since other parts of him were getting warm. Really warm.

He caught her wrists in his hands and eased himself slowly backwards up the door. "I'm serious."

Sam regarded him with a smile as she shifted her hips over his, electric tension sparkling in his groin, and he froze with a groan that stopped somewhere in his throat. "So am I."

There was no answer to that but to haul her down and kiss the living daylights out of her. By dint of a fair amount of squirming and a few mumbled protests, he got them positioned so he was on top. That gave him a little bit more control - and in this situation, every little bit of control really did count - and he was going to ease back in a minute, just as soon as she got her hands out of his jeans pockets, moulding his butt with agile fingers.

The rap against the window jerked them apart with a yelp and a muffled thud and another yelp as he fell off the seat and bruised himself on the raised hump in the middle of the car.

She started laughing almost immediately, tugging down her t-shirt, and trying to sit up without squashing him. Jack hauled himself off the floor as Sam wound down the window.

"Evening, officer," she said, and Jack could still hear the repressed laughter in her voice. "Can we help you?"

Silence.

Jack squinted at the faint outline of the cop, whose flashlight was still trained on Sam's face. In the rest area lamplight, and with the bright beam of the flashlight in their eyes, he could only see the soft edge of the man's jaw.

What was the guy doing? Checking Sam out?

Over Jack's dead body he was!

"Is there a problem, officer?"

A moment later, the flashlight was shining in his eyes, making him blink as his eyes frantically adjusted.

"What's going on here?"

It was so tempting to retort, "What the hell do you think is going on here? We're making out!"

From past experience, Jack knew that there were ways to get the cops on your side and ways to not get them on your side. He'd done both in his time - although it had been years since he'd been caught making out in a car.

Sam's fingers closed around his thigh, close to the knee. Jack tried not to tense, but it was...well, to be honest, it was hard. His body had certain expectations, and the strong, firm pressure of her fingers at the wrong end of his thigh was distracting him. He raked a hand through his hair as she said, "Just...having a bit of fun. No harm meant."

Usually, they avoided playing 'clueless teens', partly because they weren't teens, mostly because they weren't clueless. However, there'd been times during the last two years where they'd found it funny to play 'pretend teen' - with occasionally hilarious results.

But situations like this, where the people talking to them thought of them as teens and little else, it was better to behave as teenagers. Otherwise they said weird things and people got a look in their eyes like they'd just met a talking dog.

So Sam had her charm out and read, the slightly embarrassed grin small. If necessary, she could turn the intensity up to the megawatt range. There were times when Jack suspected that if Jacob hadn't been such a military stickler in his younger days, then Sam would have been one of those girls who brought out the charm every time she found herself in a pickle. It was scary to see, even this time around.

Sam Carter loose on the world? Heaven help the world.

However, it didn't seem to be working on this cop. "Step out of the car."

Jack gave her a level look, and she returned him a rueful expression and a shrug.

The night air was cold, especially after the heat they'd been generating in the car. Jack's goosebumps protested bitterly, but his ego liked it that Sam slipped a hand into his and sidled up beside him.

His protective instincts particularly liked Sam's hand in his when he finally got a look at the officer who'd knocked on the door.

The man was tall, stocky build, but with a 'soft' look about him. Ordinary cop. But the way he was looking at Sam was raising alarms in Jack's mind like an unscheduled Stargate activation. Sam squeezed his hand gently, although he had no idea if it was in reassurance or concern.

"Are we in trouble, officer?" He kept his voice mild, especially as the officer's partner rolled up from the idling black-and-white a few yards away. No point in getting in trouble now.

"Not yet," the first man said, continuing to study them as his partner halted, rocking back on his heels a little. The second cop was fifty if a day, and looked like someone's idea of a fat old uncle.

"What's up?" This cop wasn't as tense as the first, and although he gave them a quick, hard look up and down, he wasn't staring at them the way the first officer had. "Having an evening out, then?"

Sam shifted, drawing attention to the fingers she had interlaced with Jack's. "Just...having a bit of fun, officer. We got...a bit carried away."

The blush was a nice touch, even if it wasn't an act.

The first officer still wasn't speaking, staring at her in a way that made Jack want to hit the guy. There was something very worrying about a grown man's intense interest in a girl who looked a dozen years his junior. Was the man a pedophile or something?

His partner seemed more disposed to lenience as he glanced them up and down again. Jack's hand got halfway to smoothing out the wrinkles in the bottom of his shirt before he dropped it and he saw the grin steal across the face of the old man.

"You're aware this is a rest area, son? A public place?"

"Um, yeah," Jack said and did his best to look abashed. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it backfired. He hoped that it worked this time. He was fighting the urge to clench his fingers and clear the expression from paedophile-cop's face. "Like she said, we got...carried away."

The older man chuckled. "I can get that. Look, you've got a warning - and, I imagine, a rude shock when the Detective here knocked on your window. So how about you two lovebirds just drive off and don't do this again, eh?"

"Gerry-" The first one protested.

"I'm in a good mood, tonight," Gerry said with a smirk and a shrug. "They hadn't gotten to public indecency yet. Besides, young love and all that."

"Thanks, officer," Sam said hastily. The slight, tugging pressure she exerted on Jack's hand was enough to get them back into the front seats of the Honda and fumbling with the keys.

"Hurry up," she said, rather more anxiously than Jack liked.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing from her to the cops outside.

"Just tense," she admitted. "The first guy was making me nervous."

Not much of a surprise there. Sam had never been entirely comfortable with interested parties. Not even him. Not until their lives got rearranged. He noticed her hands were gripping the edges of the seat and thrust the key into the ignition at the same time as his hand reached out to touch her knee. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Sam took a deep breath and forced a smile to her lips as one hand covered his. "I'll be better once we get home." Then she grinned at him - a real, mischeivous grin that sent a jolt from heart to groin, churning his stomach at the same time. "I'll be much better once we get home."

Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the grin that crossed his own face as he started up the car.

The officers, he noticed, were still watching them, the younger one grumbling as they made their way back to their car.

"...just reminded me..."

"Christ, man, every woman reminds you of her! That dealer we got the other week reminded you of her. Don't go down that path..."

"This was different, Gerry."

Jack shifted the gears and took off the handbrake as he glanced at Sam. They drove out of there, past the still-arguing cops.

"...just a couple of kids who let their hormones get control..."

She turned the radio to an opera station, and leaned back in her seat as they drove down the interstate towards their turnoff. Jack shot her worried glances, wondering how badly the officer's interest had spooked her.

"Sounds like the guy had an ex that looked a bit like you."

"Yeah, well, if he stared at her like that, it's no wonder he's an ex," she snapped.

There was a moment of silence, while Jack wondered whether he should snap back or wait for her to get out of it.

She spoke a moment later. "I'm sorry, Jack. It just..." She took a deep breath. "Guess I'm used to scaring the guys off by now."

He knew how that worked. Their bodies were teenaged, but their minds were much older. The contradiction came out in unexpected ways and had freaked people out before. Hell, it had freaked them out before.

"You're lucky I'm hard to scare," he said, making a joke of it.

"Oh," she said, offhanded, staring out the passenger window, "I don't know about that."

He barely had time to see her hand slip between them and land on his thigh.

On the right end of his thigh.

The car swerved a little before he dragged it back into the lane. It was really lucky that they'd gotten off the main road some time ago. That would be all they'd need tonight - to be picked up for dangerous driving.

"Fuck, Sam!" His throat had closed up and everything was tight. Including his jeans.

"You'll get to do that later," she said, and the blue eyes gleamed wickedly by the passing streetlights as her fingers flexed. Jack shifted, uncomfortably aware that he was driving and that her hand was still on his thigh, very close to...

Not a good thing to think about.

He swallowed and managed a not-wholly-teasing tone, "Your room or mine?"

"The futon," she said. "Neutral ground."

"Oh, that is..." He gulped as her fingers flexed but he continued, "...so unfair. I'll never be able to watch the TV again..."

Her laughter was beautiful and evil. "That's part of the idea, Jack."

They'd discussed this before - after they began dating for real instead of just hanging out with each other a lot. The 'moving in with each other' thing had been a natural continuation of that, but while the gossip went wild at school, it was really just like sharing a house with another adult.

As far as Jack was concerned, the occasional urge to climb into her bed or to offer to wash her back was just a by-product of living in a house with a woman you were attracted to but hadn't actually made any moves on. It was offset by the urge to whack her over the head with a pillow when she hogged the remote control and left used tissues littered across the dining room table.

Besides, as always, how far they went was entirely up to her.

Judging by the pressure of her fingers, short of the Goa'uld invading, he was so going to get to home base tonight.

Something in him - he thought of it as his inner adolescent - was exultant at the thought. The older, wiser, more sexually experienced part of him was having a panic attack. If she'd meant less to him, he'd probably have been a whole lot more relaxed about it. But she didn't and he wasn't. And that was scaring the shit out of him almost as much as it was exciting the hell out of him.

The rest of the trip home was a blur.

She was impatient enough to have her hands back under his shirt when he tried to find the house key in the dark of the porch. And Jack was tempted to give up the search and just make out on the porch until things got really desperate.

As it was, he wasn't sure how they got the door open between moist kisses and soft laughter, but he knew they did, because his heel caught on the door step as he backed up into the house and he fell backwards into the wall as she held onto the doorframe and laughed.

He saw her hand grope for the lightswitch, outlined by the streetlight, and a moment later, the light was on.

But her fingers were a good two inches short of the switch.

Jack scrambled to his feet, using the wall as a prop.

"Whatever happened to the eleven o'clock curfew during school?" Jacob asked Sam dryly, standing at the other end of the hallway with his hand on the lightswitch there.

Sam paused beside Jack, eyes narrowed. "Appearances aside, I think I'm old enough to determine my own curfew now, Dad. And it's good to see you, too."

For a moment, the tension stretched a little as Jacob eyed the pair in front of him.

Jack mentally reminded himself that he was nearly fifty, even if he only looked eighteen. Sam was her own woman and technically overage, even if she didn't look it; and Jacob was her dad, sure, but he liked Jack.

Sometimes.

Then Jacob opened his arms to Sam and things were okay. Well, mostly.

Jack did the hosting honours and dragged out a pack of beer that he'd stashed away in the back of the fridge. He got a narrow look from Jacob for that, but he'd gotten the beer legally. He'd celebrated his 'eighteenth' birthday back in January, and gotten the beer over the counter - no asking old war-buddies to get the alcohol for him.

Besides, it wasn't as though he and Sam were in the young, irresponsible stage of their lives.

"...the last we'd heard of you, they'd lost contact with the Tok'ra," Sam was saying. "She said you were trying to settle things among the Tok'ra - the ones who didn't like being allied with Earth."

Jack put the bottle down in front of Jacob, and another one in front of Sam before sitting next to Sam on the futon.

The futon.

Okay, so everything else tonight had become secondary after Jacob turned up, but still...

He turned his attention - quite deliberately - to the conversation - a general update on what was happening out in the galaxy.

At first, they'd gotten regular information on what was happening at the mountain. For the first six months, they'd discussed every aspect of what was going on, what their counterparts were doing, what they would have done themselves.

Then, one day, Sam had refused to read the emails. She stopped taking phone calls or talking to any of the SGC personnel who called them. The only person she was willing to converse with was General Hammond. Her explanation had been simple. "I'm not her," she'd said bitterly, one night when he'd wanted to discuss the latest news from the mountain. "I'm not her, you're not him, it's time we faced facts. They don't need us, Jack. It's not our life anymore. It was our life. And I'm not going to spend another lifetime being the good little officer never stepping out of line."

"You sound as though you resented that."

"You sound surprised."

"You always seemed happy enough."

She'd looked at him with clear blue eyes. "I guess you are when you don't have any alternatives."

It turned out quite a bit had happened in the last couple of years.

Jacob didn't offer what had happened to their counterparts and they didn't ask. In the last couple of months they'd discussed it, and decided it was better not to know. Their own story was going to have a happy ending - by their own hands and with their own wills behind it. They didn't want to know if their counterparts got stuck in the endless circle of formality, or ended up shattering the bonds between them.

They are not us.

And nothing made that more clear than the hand she slipped into his halfway through her Dad's recital of the upheavals among the Tok'ra and curled around his fingers.

Jacob's eyes followed their entwined hands, but he continued talking without a break.

"...so we're still fighting against the Goa'uld, there are still factions in the Tok'ra councils, and the Jaffa are still rebelling." Jacob took a swig of beer.

"Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose," Jack muttered to himself.

"Pretty much," Jacob admitted. "Except for the fact that you learned French somewhere along the way."

Sam was grinning, "Second time around allows for the development of a lot of new skills."

"I noticed you've been developing...new skills." The Tok'ra looked pointedly at their clasped hands.

"Hey, we haven't done anything!"

"Yet," Sam added, and Jack shot her an incredulous look.

"Why'd you go and say that?"

"He'd find out sooner or later," she stated in response to his protest. "And it's not any secret that we're living in the same house."

"Although, to your credit, you do have separate bedrooms," Jacob noted. "And no apparent crossover of personal belongings."

They both glared at him for that. "Snooping again, Dad?" Sam asked, brows raised.

"Again?" Jack questioned.

She didn't look away from Jacob. "He has a habit of going through my stuff when he thinks I might be in a relationship. Quite the detective."

"I checked out the house," Jacob said, offhandedly. "That involved opening doors and having a look inside. I didn't snoop. This time."

"Old habits die hard."

"So I take it you're planning to do something, then?"

This was so not a conversation Jack had ever thought of having with Jacob. Still, it was better than the ribbon device scenario. Although, really, anything was better than the ribbon device scenario.

"At some stage," Jack said firmly, "yes."

"And you weren't going to ask my permission?"

There was a twinkle in Jacob's eye, but Sam must have missed that, because Jack heard her open her mouth and draw breath for a blistering retort, and interrupted before she could get her panties in a twist. Besides, they were cute black lace panties, which made his dreams very interesting every night after he hauled her washing out of the dryer.

"Hey, you would never have found out until long after the fact," he said, bluntly.

Jacob grinned and muttered something that sounded like 'same old Jack'. "Okay, I'm guessing you're not going to ask for my approval."

"When I ask the question, then I'll ask for approval," Jack told him. Then he added, "Of course, if you don't give it, I'll take her anyway."

Okay, so maybe that was more than he'd planned to say. Sam was staring at him with disbelief written all over her face. "You've thought that far ahead?"

He stared back at her. "You haven't?" That was a bit of a disappointment.

"Well, I never thought... I mean, it's not something..." Sam was a very bright pink by now, and a chuckle from Jacob suddenly made Jack very aware that they had an audience. "Dad!"

"It's funny from this end," Jacob grinned, unabashed by their glare. He stood. "Look, I'm staying in my - your - her house." He grimaced at the adjustment of pronouns. "I've got a few days off from the Tok'ra, and I'd like to have dinner with you guys - actually, I was hoping for tonight, but then you guys were out..."

"How'd you get in anyway?"

"You gave a copy of the key to Jack - the other Jack. He gave it to me. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

Jacob grimaced. "It's a long story. I'll tell you over dinner. Is tomorrow night any good, or will you be studying for your finals?"

Jack coughed slightly. "I think we can make some time."

They settled for a Mexican restaurant on North Sierra Madre that Sam and Jacob had gone to before and which they thought was fairly good. Then Jacob kissed and hugged Sam, and shook hands with Jack with an odd twinkle in his eye. "Behave, Jack."

After that, there was no way Jack was going to misbehave! Not even when the door shut behind Jacob and it was just the two of the in the hallway.

Sam sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "His timing is still as bad as ever."

Jack slipped his arm around her waist. "He's done this before?"

"Several times." She tilted her head without breaking the contact between them so she could look him in the eyes. "Don't want to pick up where we stopped?" The grin was mischeivous.

"It's not a case of not wanting to," he said with a quick, reassuring kiss. "It's a case of not daring to." He grinned at her pout. "We're gonna have to sit across from him tomorrow night at dinner, remember."

Her expression sobered. "Maybe when he leaves."

"Maybe," he said, non-committally. By now they'd reached the hallway. "And maybe you'll just have to wait."

She jostled him at that, pouting with mock-annoyance. There was no doubt in Jack's mind that Sam Carter could pout adorably. And her lower lip jutted so enticingly, that Jack bent for a little nibble that turned into a longer, deeper kiss when she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and refused to let go.

First time around, he would have picked her up right now, laid her down on the futon and gone for it. Self-control was not high on a young man's priority list when it came to sex.

This time around, he was willing to hold off for a few days. Thirty years made a load of difference. And at least this way, he wouldn't have to worry about being under Jacob's eye tomorrow night at dinner.

But the making out was definitely still fun.

- fin -