Title: One Every Four Hours
Author: Gomes
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: M
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Sexual themes
Summary: "What? I said I'd make it up to you."
Notes: Humour & PWP written for my favourite Goa'uld, lj user"emosweet" because she's injured and wanted SJ porn and I, apparently, live to serve her. Heh.

It was quite a staggering feat, if he could say so himself. Amidst the myriad of staff blasts and bullets, he hopped, ducked, jumped and rolled with graceful precision; dodging and shooting right on target to a serene stretch of music in his head.

It was lyrical to a fault, how the moments extended to each other, presenting no falter, no miss-matched step. Calculation and improvisation tip-toed together as his orders sung out in a haunting melody before the gate burst to life, catching his breath with envy.

He watched his team, still under attack and no where as harmonized as he, cross through the liquid horizon in tumbled succession. Now only he remained, his back to his home and his gun poised to finish the final aria.

Two staff blasts flew past him in sync, striking against the gate with a reverberated clash as sparks burned behind him, adding to his dramatic finale. Rhythm beat out of his gun's nozzle, each bullet a cymbal to the Jaffa's chest, complimented by the cadence of bodies hitting the floor.

He walked backwards, gun almost conducting his exit as the blue curtain swallowed him whole, stroking his ego and giving honor to his grin.

The last thing he remembered, save for the blissful feeling that synchronicity had blessed him with, was seeing the ramp, the ceiling, the ramp, the floor and then the ceiling. "For crying out loud!" He gripped his ankle tightly as curses hissed through clenched teeth. "If I find the bastard who -"

"- sorry Sir."

He cracked open an eye and glared at his second-in-command. "Carter." He breathed, stretching out her name with a warning. To her credit, she did look sincerely apologetic. However, her doleful puppy-dog eyed expression did nothing to alleviate the throbbing that drummed in his right ankle; the echoes being felt all the way up to his knee.

He watched as she hopped off the side of the ramp, feet stomping just beside his head. "What the hell were you doing, crouched down right in front of the gate, Major?" He resorted to rank. Despite not meaning them, he did have a few choice words swimming around in his head, and opted for the politer route instead.

"We all came tumbling in, Sir. I dropped my pack and bent down to pick it up, and then you came in backwards -"

He screwed his eyes shut. Of course fate was a bitch. He paraded around on the battlefield, seemingly invincible, making Jaffa cower with fear and one step on home soil - bam! He lands flat on his ass after a series of not-too-graceful rolls, with his major and several techs to witness his moment of splendor.

"I was watching my six, Major," he hissed, watching as the medic team arrived, all biting back grins. He narrowed his eyes, daring even a minute whispered giggle to surface, knowing that they knew the consequences all to well. He turned his attention back to her. "I was making sure none of the Jaffa shot me in the back while I stepped through the gate. Just didn't think that I'd be falling for you -"

"- Sir?"

He held up a hand. "Over…you. You know what I mean." He sighed, wincing as a cold compress was wrapped around his ankle.

"Um well, if it's any consolation, Sir, you did manage to kick me in the back as you fell."

He snorted softly. Her guilt was definitely useful. "A little." He let his lips drop into a little pout, adding an extra painful moan for good pleasure. He peeked at her through his lashes, and noticed the tell-tale signs: the eyes crinkled with worry, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, fingers fidgeting with the material of fatigues. He pressed his lips together, biting back smugness. Extremely useful.

"Colonel, can you stand?"

"I used to be able to." He shot his Major another look, feigning annoyance before looking back at the doctor. He allowed himself to be helped on to the gurney, sighing angrily at the feeling of being rendered incapable.

"A quick X-Ray and you'll be good as new, Colonel."

"Will I ever walk again, Doc?" He asked, voice straining with a dramatic flair which Janet pointedly ignored. Jack O'Neill. Drama Queen. Colonel Drama Queen. He lay back, staring up at the ceiling once more as he felt the gurney start it's motion.

"Sir…if there's anything I can do. Anything to make it up to you…"

"Relax Carter," he cut her off, watching her as she fell into step with the gurney's journey. "It was an accident." He narrowed his eyes, feigning suspicion. "Or was it?" He gave her a lopsided smile as she rolled her eyes, before stopping and letting him continue the rest of the way with Janet.

"By the way, Carter," he called out as he was wheeled away, leaving no room for argument, "don't forget: you're driving me home."

"Just be glad I didn't ask you to carry me over the threshold." He grunted his words, purposely giving most of his weight to his second-in-command. He hobbled, she dragged. "My bag's still in the car," he tossed over his shoulder as he settled himself down on the couch. "Oh and I'd like a grilled cheese for lunch."

"Yes Master."

Eyes scrunched closed as he tried to contain his laughter. Oh this was gold! He cleared his throat, his game face fixed in place. "What was that, Major?" He asked her as she returned, dumping his bag near the front entrance.

"Yes Sir."

He blew out a breath, feeling the venom in her voice. Swallowing hard, he reeled the tension back in. "Care to join me for lunch, Carter?"

"Is it an option?"

Her smile was contagious and he threw her a grin. "No."

"Thought so. I'll start on the sandwich."

He watched her move through his kitchen, smiling as she discovered and explored her way around the small island kitchenette. Pans clanked, glasses clinked and cupboards slammed. He tried hard not to stare, knowing that she'd catch him. Retrieving his bottle of pills from his pocket, he rattled them a little before eyeing the pills through the orange plastic container, trying to guess how many were prescribed. "Take every four hours with or without a meal." He glanced at his watch, his ankle throbbing as he felt it swell further.

"Janet said to take some when you get home, sleep a little…take some more."

He smiled, giving her a nod as she placed a plate in front of him. "Apparently these suckers knock you out like a Jaffa staff blast," he mumbled, words muffled with his sandwich. "Pff, all lies. Those things never work."

She nodded, leaning back against the couch, folding her arms across her chest.

"So you gonna leave?" He asked, as he finished off his sandwich. He handed her the plate, and stretched out on the couch, hissing as he moved his ankle without thought.

"Well who knows what side-effects these pills cause…"

He tapped out two pills and swallowed them dry. "So you're staying."

"Yes sir."

"Good." He held up his hand, waiting for her to help him up. "You can keep me company."

"Please Sir, you'll be out before your head hits the pillow."

"I'll have you know, Carter, that I have a very high tolerance level." He stuck his nose in the air, indignantly. He allowed her to help him into bed, sighing aloud as he crossed his arms underneath his pillow.

"Maybe we can play twenty-questions…"

He moaned as soft lips gently sucked the tender spot right behind his ear. He shivered. He actually shivered as cool air was blown into his ear before teeth gently nibbled his ear lobe. "Carter," he whispered softly, hands trailing down her sides to stop at her waist.

He dug his heels into the mattress, lifting her up and thrusting into her, feeling her core tighten around him as her name slid past her lips with excitement.

He whispered her name over and over, each time his hips met hers, each time he lifted her off the bed -

" - Sir!"

He opened his eyes, concerned blue eyes staring back at him. "Sir, you were dreaming -"

"- well damn." He stated plainly, inhaling deeply before glancing at the clock beside him. Four hours had passed. "Wait, what just happened?"

"You suggested we play twenty questions before you passed out."

He eyed her suspiciously, knowing there had to be more.

"You did manage to make it through the whole sentence. We're all proud of your tolerance -"

"- alright, alright Major." He dismissed her words, wondering if she picked up her new-found sarcasm from somewhere else.

He thrust his head back against the pillow, trying to get his mind off the pain. "Distract me, Carter."

"Um, so what were you dreaming about?"

The almost embarrassment in her voice caused him to jerk his head up, and he searched her eyes for reason. "Uh…nothing." He cringed, dropping his head down on the pillow again. That was lame. That was very lame. He knew she wouldn't buy it.

"You…you said my name, Sir."

Nope, she didn't buy it.

"Called out my name, actually."

Shit. Shit shit shit. She totally knew. He raised his eyes carefully, his own darkening at the depth her blues had deepened to.

"Moaned it…"

He held his breath, feeling fingers tracing up his leg. His eyes grew wide, realizing that they were Carter's fingers. Carter was seducing him! He opened his mouth to say something, but his words were swallowed by her; lips sliding against his own, tongue immediately slipping against his.

Damn, that was hot.

Kissing Samantha Carter was hot. Just like in his dreams.

He pushed her back slightly, eyes traveling from the arousal in her eyes to her slightly kiss-swollen lips. "This is a dream, isn't it?"


He swallowed as she hesitated, hips jerking slightly as he felt her hand slide against his erection. He couldn't hide the disappointment, knowing that he would wake up to nothing but a hard-on and the embarrassment of another wet dream. "Might as well take advantage, then," he whispered hoarsely, cupping her cheek and pulling her to another kiss. He nipped at her jaw line, tongue tasting and teasing has he kissed down to her neck. He sucked on her skin, wanting to bruise the skin until he branded her as his. Possession. Only in her dreams was she willingly his.

She moaned. He loved the sound of her moans. Idle hands began to move as he stripped her of her clothing, unhooking her bra and wasting to time as his mouth latched on to a pebbled nipple. He began working on her pants, hissing as she braced her hands on his shins - the movement sending a painful jolt to his ankle.

"Damnit. This is a dream! My ankle isn't supposed to hurt in my dreams!" He grumbled, lavishing attention on her other breast.


"It's okay. It's worth it." He paused, swallowing two more pills. "You're worth it." His eyes roamed her body before returning back to her face. "Definitely worth it."

The smile she gave him was worth all the pain, and he felt himself harden even further. He lay back down as he understood the silent communication that passed between them. On and off the field, they always had that connection. Folding his arms underneath the pillow, he propped himself up slightly, watching as she gently pulled down his pants and underwear, allowing them to rest mid-thigh.

"God," he breathed out quietly as fingers gently grazed his length, teasing the tip before trailing down. He bit down hard on his lip as he felt her warm mouth envelop him whole. Fingers gripped the sheets, crinkling them as he tried not to succumb to the pleasure too soon.

He reached forward, threading his fingers through her golden strands, cupping the back of her head as she tasted him, teased him and brought him to new levels of arousal.

"Carter…" He motioned her to climb on him, wanting to feel her surround him.

"This is about you, Sir. I promised…"

Her last words were muffled as she took him whole, gently sucking as her tongue swirled around his member. He knew he was close. He knew she knew he was close and knew that she was helping reach that pinnacle.

"Carter…I'm damn close."

"Ready when you are, Sir."

He chuckled, leaning his head back as he pictured her nude body, a soft smile on his face as he realized this was the best wet dream he'd ever had.

He grunted, feeling her hands replace her mouth as she pumped him, allowing him his much needed release. The throb in his ankle had dulled to an almost inexistent pulse as he emptied himself, collapsing back against the pillow.

He felt his eyes grow heavy, words on the tip of his tongue and hands gently caressing his chest.

He limped his way into her lab, leaning heavily on his crutches. The not-quite padded supports dug into his arm-pits and he winced slightly, before shifting them to a more comfortable position. He nodded towards her. "Thanks for leaving me unattended. I could have fallen down the stairs or drank some Pine Sol because I don't know any better." His bottle of pills rattled as he placed it on her desk, watching her with keen eyes; half memorizing her already memorized face, half trying to figure out what was slightly 'off' with her posture.

"Got called in, Sir. I left you a note and Poison Control is probably number 3 on your speed dial." She continued to stare at her computer screen, elbow on the desk and hand half tucked under her jaw, half cupping the side of her neck. "How'd you get here anyway?"

He pressed his lips together, trying to give off an indignant look that failed miserably. "Took your bike." It was annoyingly casual in its delivery, and he smirked when he saw her head jerk up with fear. Eyes then narrowed as her hand quickly returned to it's previous position. "Relax. Took a cab."

"Just couldn't stay away from work, huh?" She asked, tilting her head downwards and giving him a small smile.

"Yeah…something like that." It had a distracted air as he hobbled a little closer to her and gently grabbed hold of her wrist, firmly pulling away her supporting hand from her neck. "Carter?" He drew out her name, staring at the small blemish that graced her skin. One that suspiciously looked about the size of his mouth with puckered lips.

His breath hitched at the mischief in her eyes.

"I told you I'd make it up to you, Sir."

He blinked rapidly. Had that been the unmistakable sound of husk lining her voice? He paused, considering his theory. He almost nodded to himself, Teal'c's 'indeed O'Neill' echoing in his ears, almost making him laugh.

He cocked his head to the side, giving her a slow, accepting nod. "That you did." Leaning in, he cringed slightly as he ran a finger delicately over the bruised skin. "Eugh…bet they could match that with my dental records." He cleared his throat, straightening up and leaning back on his crutches. His thumb gently caressed the inside of her wrist, still held up, captive in his hand.

"So…we even, Sir?"

He let out a small chuckle, his eyes doing a predatory sweep of her body before meeting her eyes. "Oh yah." He agreed willingly. "Though technically, I probably owe you now."

He dropped her hand, averting his eyes as he realized that he took too much pleasure in making her blush. Turning around slowly, he began to lumber out of her lab. He smiled to himself as he moved toward the elevator, ignoring her call.

He knew she'd eventually give chase - eventually find him. Eventually come to him. After all, he had accidentally left his bottle of pills on her counter and he knew guilt still plagued her thoughts. He counted to three and nodded smugly to himself as her voice died down, just as he had predicted.

He knew she was smiling now, having pocketed the bottle, with a part of its label highlighted proudly.

Take one every four hours.