A/N: This ones written for Trinity over at the S/J thread on GW. Cause she asked. And for Petra, who brought up Kerry.
He blew gently upon the soft skin at the nape of her neck, raising small goose pimples across the surface. She arched slightly as she sat in the bed next to him, granting him better access, but she still didn't look up from the laptop perched on her crossed legs. He bent to kiss the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder; she moaned slightly as his lips gently caressed her skin but didn't even pause in her typing.
Trying to restrain his own growing frustration, he slowly trailed kisses down her shoulder, pausing at the strap of her camisole. He slipped one finger beneath it, lightly stroking her sensitized flesh; she shivered at his touch.
He smiled smugly to himself as he planted one final kiss on her shoulder. She smiled as well… at the screen of her laptop.
This time, he couldn't quite contain his groan. He decided to try a different tactic. "Uh… Sam?"
She finally turned her head to look at him. "Yes?"
"Did I tell you I ran into Kerry Johnson today?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"Really? Where? And how is she doing?"
Her tone was almost as casual as his had been, but he thought maybe he'd heard a note of… something… in her tone. His felt his smile grow still more smug. He concealed it by kissing her shoulder again. "We were at a Homeworld Security intelligence briefing together," he explained once he had regained control of his features.
Yes, definitely a note of something; he finally had her full attention. "And she seemed good. Great, in fact," he added, just to turn the screws a bit further. "Her transfer up to New York really seems to have agreed with her."
"Or maybe it's that, with the transfer, she and Bill can finally be together all the time?" she asked, a bit too casually.
He stared at her for a moment. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards; her eyes gleamed.
The damned woman was laughing at him.
He sunk back into his pillows defeated. "You knew."
No longer even trying to suppress her laughter, she admitted, "I ran into her in the hall on the way to meet you for lunch. I was afraid it might be awkward… but then she told me about Bill. Congratulated us, too, by the way."
He crossed his arms over his chest; he was sulking and he didn't care if she knew. Suddenly serious, Sam looked at him for a long moment, head tilted to one side. Examining him with clear blue eyes which seemed to see straight through him.
Finally, she moved. Shutting her laptop with a loud decisive 'click', she set it on the bedside table before turning back to him. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear.
"For what?" he asked. He sounded sulky and childish even to his own ears but he still didn't care.
She smiled and moved to kneel over him, one knee on either side of his. Biting her lip nervously, she explained, "I'm still not very good at this, am I?"
As she leaned over him, the edge of her silk camisole fell forward to reveal just the barest hint of the curves beneath. He reached forward to gently tuck one of the soft blonde curls which had fallen across her cheek back behind her ear. Smiling now himself, he observed, "You're doing wonderfully from where I sit."
"Jack… I'm trying to be serious."
"So am I," he promised and, slipping his hand behind her neck, pulled her down to meet his waiting lips.