Title: Hot Damn, Life is Good

Author: Gail R Delaney Romance, Challenge, fluffy goodness

Pairing: Sam/Jack

Rating: Mature/Adult, 17+

Season: 9+

Spoilers: Vague at best

Special Note: This is part of my "Moments" series, and while it can be read alone . . . you might like to read "Paradox" first. It's very short. But absolutely not necessary.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was. Never will be. No copyright infringement intended.

Feedback: Yes, please!

Archive: http/ out of the room. homestead . com / LifeIsGood. html SJFic, SJD, SamJack17, Helio2, Gateworld, Anywhere else, just let me know. I'll say yes, just want to know where.

Author's Notes: This story was written in response to a Fanfic challenge on the SamJack17+ list in which we were given specific elements that had to be incorporated into a story. Beyond the given assumption that it would be a 17+ story, I was given the following elements. 1) The story should be placed in a somewhat unusual place. 2) The story should be based around an established relationship between Jack and Sam 3) I need to use the phrase "I need you" but in a non-sexual context spoken by anyone within the story 4) I must use the color purple and 5) I must use the word 'weenie. After several false starts, restarts, new plots, trashings, and start overs . . . this is the final result. Hope you like.

Special Thanks: To my Super Beta… Jenifer. You rock, babe! Thanks for keeping me straight. And thanks SO much for the inspirational manipulation. Also, a special thanks to my friend, Cheryl . . . who had the idea that Jack could be wearing a purple condom on his weenie on their honeymoon . . . I didn't use ALL of her idea . . . But she does deserve some of the credit. THANKS:)

A balmy breeze shifted in off the ocean, tugging at the hem of Jack's white shirt, stirring his hair. He drew in a slow breath, enjoying the salty tang the heavy air left on his senses, and pushed his hands into his pockets. The sun was almost gone, leaving streaks of orange, yellow and red across the horizon.

Behind him, he heard the sound of their party, a small gathering of friends, most of whom he considered family, around three bonfires that stretched along the beach. Someone laughed, the sound carrying on the wind, and Jack smiled.

Hot damn, but life was good!


He turned, his Birkenstocks digging into the sand, to see Sam walking towards him. Her gauzy white sundress caught in the breeze, forming to her shape, and something – everything – inside him stirred.

"Yeah . . ."

"What are you doing?"

"Just . . . enjoying."

He held out his hand to her, and she took it as she approached. Jack's other hand automatically went to her stomach, just slightly rounded but accentuated by the wind-plastered dress. He circled his palm, loving the feel of Sam beneath his touch. After over a year of hiding their relationship, for fear of retribution, he still hadn't quite gotten used to being able to touch her whenever he wanted. Even after six months of being 'in the clear'. It felt damn good.

"Are you going to come back to the party?" she asked.

"In a minute." He raised his hands to her face, holding his palms against her cheeks until she looked up at him. The setting sun behind him reflected in her eyes, and she smiled at him. An unseen fist squeezed around his heart. Jack stroked her skin with his thumbs and took in the details of her face.

Sam's hands touched his sides, her fingers curling into the loose fabric of his shirt. "Jack?"

He leaned in and kissed his name from her lips. Sam shifted against him, her hands moving up his back, her head tilting to deepen the kiss. When her mouth opened for him, and their tongues slid against each other, he nearly forgot the party and the guests, and lowered her to the sand.

But he didn't forget, and reluctantly broke the contact. Jack leaned his forehead against hers as their rapid breaths mingled in the space between them. He toyed with her hair and placed another gentle kiss on her lips.

"The sooner we go back, the sooner we can make them all leave," he said with a grin, and Sam laughed.

Hand in hand they walked back to the center fire. Daniel and Teal'c sat side by side on a fallen log, each holding long skewers with half a dozen hot dogs on each, cooking them over the open flame. Further down the beach was a steamer pit with clams and lobsters, and an array of other cook out fare was spread out on a table nearby. General Hammond stood behind Daniel, a beer in his hand. He looked up and smiled as they approached.

"Why are they referred to as both 'hot dogs' and 'frankfurters'?" Teal'c asked, and Jack nearly groaned.

"Oh, jeez, here we go," Sam mumbled under her breath.

But Daniel didn't seem to hear.

"That's actually a very interesting question. No one seems to be able to agree on the source of either name. Some people claim that the name 'hot dog' came from a cartoonist. I believe his name was Ted, no, Tad Dargon. Vendors used to sell sausages in buns at the Polo grounds in New York and they called them daschund sausages, because of their length and shape. Some also say the reference to the daschund was a slight to German immigrants who were responsible for bringing both the dog and the sausage to the United States. But this cartoonist was unable to spell daschund, so he just put 'dog' instead. But others say that the name comes from the origin of the sausage, being Frankfurt, Germany in the late 1700's."

Jack leaned towards Sam, whispering in her ear. "How does he know this crap?"

She shrugged, shaking her head. "He reads . . . a lot?"

He led Sam to a chair near the fire, not wanting her to try and sit so low on one of the logs. Once she was settled, he went to the refreshment table and got himself a cold beer and a bottle of pineapple and cranberry juice for Sam. She seemed to be into weird fruit combinations lately . . . papaya and mango . . . passion fruit and kiwi . . . grape and strawberry.

As he walked back to her, handing her the bottle, Daniel was finishing up his short lesson in American Pop Culture.

"And some believe the bun was created by a man named Feutschwanger, because he used to lend gloves to his customers to eat his hot sausages. When they didn't return the gloves . . .he asked his brother, a baker to create buns. And, that's pretty much all I know."

"That's it, huh?" Jack mumbled, and Sam elbowed his hip.

"And what of the name 'weenie' and its reference to the male - - "

"Okay!" Jack said loudly, cutting of Teal'c's next question. "Can I interest anyone in some clams?"

- - - - - - - - -

" . . . so, the chieftain proceeds to offer Jack nine goats," Daniel says, holding up one hand, fingers splayed. "Explaining that this is the highest price ever known to be offered for a wife. Jack adamantly says no, of course. And Sam is about ready to blow a fuse."

Jack watched Daniel tell the story, amused at how animated his friend could get. With his back against one of the logs, Jack sat on the sand facing one of the flickering fires with his heels dug into the sand and Sam settled between his thighs. She leaned back into his chest, using his legs as armrests, and her soft chuckle at Daniel's flare vibrated through them both.

"As we're trying to leave the camp, the chieftain is calling out after us, begging Jack – the powerful chieftain from the magical ring – to please reconsider. He would give him anything. One of his own wives. Two. A daughter. Anything to have the beauty with the hair of gold."

Sam snorted. Jack wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked his hands over her abdomen. She sighed softly and settled against his chest.

Jennifer Hailey, who sat across the fire and diagonal to Daniel, looked through the orange glow towards them. "Didn't you just want to throttle the guy, Colonel?"

"Hailey, if I had taken every chief and warrior up on their offers to buy Sam, I'd be a very wealthy man by now," Jack interjected before Sam could say anything.

She looked up at him, and while her lips were twisted into a scornful scowl, her blue eyes smiled at him. Jack pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"We're walking back to the Gate, and Sam is fuming the whole time about how men are barbarians everywhere and we all think with . . . well . . . not the head on our shoulders," Daniel said with a sideways glance, and cleared his throat. "And Jack says 'Don't worry, Carter. I wouldn't have taken less than, oh, eleven goats' – he pauses, then adds – 'And a cow.'. He no sooner says it when the chieftain comes running down the road towards us, dragging behind him eleven very reluctant goats . . . and one cow."

Everyone laughed, the sound echoing back to them from the rock cliffs that shielded the small cove. Sam shifted in the space between his legs and he caught her trying to stifle a yawn behind her hand.

"Okay, everyone . . . " he said, extricating himself from behind her to stand. "As fun as this is, I hope I don't sound rude when I say go away. I would like some time with my wife."

Damn, that sounded good.

"Help me up, Jack," Sam said from the ground.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Nope, you're good right where you are. Stay put."

Cassie came over to them, a bundle of palm fronds and tiny-blossomed tropical flowers in a deep purple held in the bend of her elbow. Sometimes, when Jack looked at her, he still saw the silent little girl they brought home from Hanka. It was hard to believe she was a grown woman, living on her own. Jack pulled her into a hug, and Cassie wrapped her free arm around his neck.

"You look happy, Uncle Jack," she said against his cheek. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, short stuff."

She squeezed him tighter, careful of the flowers she held, and kissed his cheek. Then left him to drop to her knees beside Sam. One by one, and in small groups, everyone prepared to leave, coming over to say good-bye and congratulate them on 'finally figuring it out'.

Oh, if they only knew . . .

Daniel waited until the crowd thinned out before he came over to them, dusting the excess sand off his backside. He wore a big, genuine grin on his face. Jack pushed his hands into the pockets of his navy pants.

"Jack . . . "


He smiled wider and looked down at Sam, who now sat Indian style with her gauze skirt tucked around her legs. She held in her lap the flowers Cassie had given her, lifting them to her nose to draw in their scent.

"Have I said how happy I am for you two?"

"A couple of times."

"Thank you, Daniel," Sam said, reaching a hand up to him.

Daniel leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I do mean it. Nine years was long enough to wait. I'm just glad things finally came around to let you be together."

Jack just nodded, and when Daniel patted his arm, he let his friend pull him into a rough hug. Slowly, everyone gathered into a group, gave their best wishes and said farewells, and headed for the Gate half a mile inland.

"Oh, hey, Daniel. I need you and Teal'c to come back tomorrow and help me bring some of this stuff back."

"Sure thing," Daniel called back over his shoulder.

"But, um, not to early . . . "

"Got it, Jack!" Daniel shouted, his voice faint as he walked away.

When Jack could no longer see the lights from the lantern, he turned his attention back to his new bride. As he looked down, she reached out her arms, beckoning him to join her. An offer he had no intention of ever refusing. Jack sat down in the sand beside her, facing her. He moved closer, drawing her again into the space between his legs, bending one leg behind her back to give her some support and draping the other over her knee to set his bare heel in the sand. He circled her waist with his arm, his hand finding a home on her far hip.

Sam draped her arm across his shoulder behind his neck, drawing him to her for a kiss. The kind of kiss he had wanted all night long. He ran his hand along her bare arm, feeling the gooseflesh beneath his touch. They kissed slowly, deeply, taking their time to feel every breath and every touch. Sam tilted her head, and Jack moved his lips from her mouth to her throat, following the curve to her shoulder. Her body pressed against him and her breath hitched as he nipped and sucked at her skin.

"Jack . . . " she whispered his name.

He moved his hand up her arm to her shoulder then down over the gauzy fabric to her breast, kneading the softness through the dress. His own body hummed, blood pounding in his temples, but he was determined to not rush anything tonight. The first time they were together had been fiery and needy, born of fear of losing each other forever. Tonight, they had each other and he wanted her to know. To understand.

Sam's fingers worked to unbutton the front of his shirt, and as she nuzzled against the side of his neck she pushed the material aside. Her touch was like a firebrand, cooled by the breeze coming in off the ocean. Jack pulled her closer, running his hands over her body.

Summoning the last shred of willpower he possessed, Jack pulled back, and with one quick kiss to her lips, he stood and offered her his hands. Sam smiled wide, and let him pull her to her feet. Hand in hand, they walked towards the small hut that had been erected for their short stay.

- - - - - - - - -

Jack held her face gently in the cradle of his long fingers, his mouth hot and alive against her throat. Sam clung to him, her arms wrapped around his body to find some semblance of solid ground as her senses tuned into his touch and nothing else.

She couldn't breathe properly, her head swimming with each hitched breath, as his hands slid down over her shoulders to the small buttons on the front of her dress. His mouth found hers again, his tongue filling her and completing the circuit that arched her body against him.

The cooler tropical breeze of the night blew in through their open hut windows, cooling her bare skin as Jack slipped her sundress down off her shoulders to pool at her feet. Jack stepped back, his fingers still skimming over her arms, to look down at her with dark, appreciative eyes.

Sam met his gaze, sliding her hands up his bare chest.

Jack touched her face again, a small, secretive smile just barely touching his lips.

"What?" Sam asked, her breathing still uneven from his touch.

"We got married today."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, we did."

He devoured her mouth, kissing her with such force they both sucked in air through their nostrils to keep from passing out from the sudden rush. Sam pushed his shirt off his shoulders as he pulled her against his bare chest, the skin-to-skin contact both searing and soothing at the same time. Sam gasped as Jack bent and swept her into his arms and carried her to the nearby bed, lying her down on the cotton coverlet.

Jack knelt on the mattress, balancing his weight on his fists as he leaned over her to kiss her again. With their mouths locked, Sam closed her eyes and instinctually released and pushed away the final barriers of clothing that kept her from feeling every bit of warm skin she could.

"I love you, Jack," she whispered against his mouth as he settled beside her, her hands roaming his back and shoulders.

She loved the feel of his flexing muscles beneath her touch. For years, Sam had enjoyed watching him from a distance, secretly harboring her arousal when she watched him wield his strength and power. Nothing stirred her more, nothing made her blood hum more, than the sight of Jack O'Neill harnessing the power of a P-90 – not until the first time he touched her.

Then nothing was ever the same again.

Jack moved over her, his lips searing a path down her body. Sam pushed her fingers into his hair as his mouth enveloped her nipple. His hands moved over her body, and her ears pounded as her heart beat ferociously in her chest. He moved to kneel between her knees, his mouth playing sweet chaos against her stomach as his fingers hooked the sides of her panties and worked them down over her hips. As he freed one foot from the leg of the white cotton, he turned his head and pressed his mouth to the inside of her ankle, his eyes shifting up to meet her gaze.

He gently eased her leg onto his shoulder, his hands massaging and caressing her skin. Sam could only watch with erotic awe as Jack tossed the panties aside, and holding her stare, moved his mouth along her calf to her knee. As he drew her highly sensitized skin into his mouth, his other hand slid along her thigh to her center, slipping inside her heat.

Sam gasped, her head rolling side to side on the coverlet. She could no longer categorize each tough, each kiss, each caress as Jack drove her to oblivion. He lowered her leg to the bed, and she moaned his name aloud when his mouth closed on her clitoris, his tongue adding to the plethora of cataclysmic sensation that was quickly taking her over.

"Jack," she whispered hoarsely. "Jack!"

She opened her eyes as he moved over her, his body sliding over hers as his mouth found hers again. Sam wrapped her arms around him, pressing her fingers into his scalp to hold him close, as he slipped inside her.

Jack pressed his face into the curve of her throat, a low moan vibrating against her skin. "Sam," he groaned as his hands slipped beneath her back to curl around her shoulders. "God . . . "

Her body was never more alive than when Jack made love to her, and even now, she felt like every nerve was super-sensitized and every synape in her brain was firing double time. Then Jack began to move, sliding slowing from her body before thrusting in again. With each thrust, each coming together of their bodies, Sam felt a new wave of cold heat rush out from her center. It tingled out into her limbs, coiling and retracting until she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only live in her husband's touch.

Jack pushed up, bracing himself on his elbows to look down into her face, as his speed and tempo increased. Sam ran her hands over his damp skin, from his sides over his flat stomach to his chest and over his defined shoulders. He was beautiful.

Everything inside her was pulling in, tensing and tightening to the point of snapping. Sam both begged for the moment when it all would shatter and break, and almost wished it wouldn't come and end the sweet ecstasy of Jack's love.

Sam moaned softly, the sound vibrating up from somewhere in the back of her throat as she threw her head back. Her world shattered, her body seizing and bursting out in the same moment.

Jack thrust faster and harder, driving into her one last time as his own orgasm ripped through him. He collapsed beside her, his head resting on her breast, as they both fought to find a normal pattern of breathing. Sam stroked his hair, enjoying the small tremors that still ricocheted through her stomach and limbs. She felt spent, and doubted she would be able to stand if she tried.

"Okay?" Jack asked, his voice vibrating through his chest into her side and against her breast.

Sam nodded, her breath still not steady. "Oh, yeah."

She felt him grin against her breast. Sam tried to twist her head to see his face. Jack was, indeed, grinning.

"Are you smirking?"

He looked up at her, not taking his cheek from her body. "Who? Me?"

"Proud of yourself?"

Jack ran his open hand over her stomach, his touch focusing on the slight swell that had taken over her waist over the last few weeks. He didn't answer, but moved down her body until his cheek was over her bellybutton. He pressed his lips to her skin, holding the kiss for several long moments. Then he laid his head down again, releasing a long sigh.

Sam ran her fingers through his hair, blinking against the happy tears that filled her eyes.

- - - - - - - - -

Jack lay on his side, his arm stretched across the mattress with Sam's head pillowed against it and her back against his chest. He ran the fingers of his other hand up and down her bare arm and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

Sam hummed, the sound content as she shifted her cheek against his tricep and reached her hand up to cover her.

"Are you asleep?" he asked, speaking close to her ear.


Jack smiled and nuzzled his face against the sweet spot beneath her ear. Sam giggled and scrunched her shoulder. She rolled towards him onto her back, and Jack slipped his hand beneath the blanket to lay his palm against her stomach. A soft breeze blew in through the open windows, and the double moon outside cast a silver glow over them as they lay in the bed. The heady scent of tropical flowers and salt hung in the air.

"Have you been awake all this time?"

Jack pulled his arm from beneath her head and supported his temple against his fist so he could look down at her. "Pretty much, yeah."

She tilted her head against the pillow, a small smile on her lips. "Why?"

"Been thinking."

"About what?"

He grinned, circling his hands over her stomach. He liked the way her body curved now, and knew he would just like it more as time went on. Jack wasn't sure any man had the right to be as happy as he was, but he was going to enjoy it as long as it lasted. And if it lasted forever, then hot damn.


Her eyebrows popped up. "Names?"

Jack nodded. "Yup."

"Thought of any good ones?"

"Maybe . . . "

"Jack Jr?"

Jack winced and cleared his throat. "No. No Jack Jr."

Sam touched his cheek, her thumb stroking his lower lip. "I don't know. I kind of like it."

He shook his head, dismissing the idea. "Not happening."

She sighed. "Okay. What did you think of?"

"Well, if it's a boy,'' he said, kissing the inside of her wrist. "What do you think of Jacob?"

His wife blinked rapidly, but two fat tears rolled from the corners of her eyes. Jack brought his hand out from beneath the blanket to brush them away, leaning down to kiss her gently.

"Thank you."

He gave her a lopsided grin and shrugged his shoulder. "Don't thank me yet. You haven't heard my name suggestion for a girl."

"Oh, boy. This should be good."

Jack smoothed some hair off her forehead, running his finger along her temple to her cheek. He loved touching her, in any capacity. "I'd like to name her after my grandmother. Grace."

Sam's eyes widened and she sucked in a sharp breath, her hand pulled back a fraction from his face. Jack studied her expression, leaning closer as he shifted his weight.

"Sam? What is it? Is the name that bad?"

"No," she said after a pause, slowly shaking her head. "No, it's not that. It's just. It's a beautiful name, Jack."

"If you don't like it - - "

"No, Jack. I love it." Her voice was little more than a rough whisper.

Jack studied her in the moonlight, and felt the familiar squeezing of his heart he had finally learned to accept. In ten years, his life had come full circle. He had gone from a man who had nothing but a heart so dark and so damaged, he didn't even dream of being happy. Now, as far as he was concerned, he had it all. A woman who loved him and who had agreed to be his wife, and together they had created a child.

He didn't know if he deserved it. Doubted it, really. But, if God or some Greater Being wanted to give him the chance, he'd grab hold with both fists and give it all he had.

"I love you, Sam."

She smiled, and curled her fingers around the back of his neck to urge him down for a kiss. In moments, the familiar and heady need he always felt for her quickly took over his thoughts and he settled into the bed beside her, throwing back the blankets that separated them.

Yup, life is damn good.