The moment the door closed behind them, Sam headed to the bedroom to change out of the clothes she'd worn on the flight from Colorado. "Just give me a minute," she called over her shoulder to Jack.

She set her suitcase down on the bed and sifted through the contents. Nothing seemed quite right for dinner at Perello's. She turned to the dresser sitting across from the bed and started rifling through the drawers. It was always difficult to predict when packing what she would need over the weekend, but she'd learned long ago she could always find something in Jack's wardrobe. Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered to bring her own clothes.

Jack's old Air Force Academy sweatshirt was definitely not right. The sweater she'd bought him for Christmas had far too much red-and-green. And she'd always hated that shirt…

Sam paused mid-motion. That should definitely not have been there. She lifted the post-it-note stuck to the front of the garment. It read: "Carter - Try this." Smiling, she began to undress.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"How's this?" Sam asked from the bedroom doorway.

Jack turned to look. The lacy bit-of-nothing he'd hidden away for her to find looked far better actually on than in even his wildest fantasies, and since it had been over a week since he'd purchased it, those had become very wild indeed. He could feel the slow smile spread across his face, and her grin broadened in response.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"What do you think? Better than one of your old sweaters?"

"Oh… yeah."

Sam glanced down at herself. "I'm not sure how appropriate it is for dinner at Perello's, though," she observed.

Jack stood up and crossed the small room to her. Taking her hand, he led her back to the bedroom. "Perello's will have to wait," he explained. "I, on the other hand, can't."

And Perello's did have to wait. But not too long.

Turned out, they delivered.