Fishing
by
Gateroller
Title: Fishing
Author: Gateroller
E-mail: Constructive feedback and criticism only please, flames will be laughed at. GATEROLLER@aol.com
Status: Complete
Category: Angst, longing and lust
Spoilers: None
Season/Sequel: After Season Four's Divide and Conquer
Pairing: Jack and Sam
Rating: NC-17
Content warnings: Sex, language
Summary: Jack goes fishing and manages to land the biggest and best catch of his life
Archive: Here, there, anywhere, but please ask first, thank you.
Disclaimer: SG-1 is not mine (though I wish otherwise) and neither are any of the other Stargate SG-1 characters. I
haven't made any money doing this, and I haven't got any of my own, so don't bother suing. The characters have just
come out to play for a while and when they've had enough I promise to take them home and give them tea. After that
they go back whence they came until next time.
Author's notes: When they're thinking in their heads, the words are in Italics. Constructive feedback is very
welcome so please let me know what you think and don't forget to reference the title of the fic.
FISHING
Jack O'Neill sat on a low fishing chair at the end of a short wooden jetty. It was late afternoon in Minnesota. He sat
back in the chair holding a fishing rod and gazed out over the lake. The sun was getting low over the mountains on
the western side of the lake and as it was early spring and the air had a fresh tang. Thick forest covered the slopes all
around the lake. There was a gentle wash of lake water around the wooden stilts of the jetty and he could see insects
hovering just above the water hoping their presence would encourage the fish to surface and feed. The only sounds
he could hear were of the lake. He could see a flock of birds wheeling high overhead, just a mass of black dots
heading off to roost. God he loved this place.
He could shed the weight of responsibilities he lived with every day of his working life. Being second in command
of the SGC and commanding officer of its flagship team SG-1 was a burden he enjoyed, though it demanded his
absolute commitment. Fighting a secret war to preserve just this little spot was worth the risk but when he was here,
at his cabin, by the lakeshore, fishing rod in hand, he could be just plain Jack O'Neill, not Colonel Jack O'Neill,
veteran USAF officer.
He sighed with satisfaction, being here meant everything was right with the world his world. This place recharged
his batteries and pushed back the crap
of all the other worlds. This place made no judgements. It embraced all dimensions of his character and personality
equally no matter what dark deeds he had committed, dark thoughts he harboured, this place always lifted his spirits.
His spirits had an extra lift this trip. He'd managed to persuade at least one of his team to take time out at the lake.
The one member of his team he didn't expect to take up his offer of a week's fishing was his second in command
Major Samantha Carter. He had invited her three before but she had always turned him down, preferring instead to
work on some scientific doohickey or other. It was good that she had agreed to come. She was a hard worker, highly
intelligent. Way smarter than you Jack! Anyhow, she was always working and she very rarely played and O'Neill
was determined to make her take some R and R. It was for her own good and this place would help relax her,
encourage her to chill out, and anyway he liked her company. She made him feel strong, decisive, and important.
His second in command was good for his ego, and she was very, very easy on the eye.
He reeled in the line and threw some more fish bait into the water.
"You're an optimist aren't you sir?" Sam asked.
"How so?" he drawled, recasting his line.
"Well, you've been sat here for the last two hours without a single bite. What makes you think the fish will be
interested now? It must be getting near their bedtime."
"Carter!"
"Well sir, it seems to me you've been sitting a long while drowning a worm on the end of a bit of string." O'Neill
looked at her, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his lips. Carter continued where angels fear.
"If you do catch a poor little fish, you stick a hook through its mouth, drag it through the water while it fights for its
life, then you club it over the head and eat it!"
"Carter, since when have you been a vegetarian?"
"I'm not sir, I just think fishing is a pointless exercise. You know the story, man against fish, fish dies, and man
triumphant."
"Major, you fight snakes and kill them."
"Yes but fish don't take over your brain or attack Earth from space!"
"Well this lake has got fish in it this big!" O'Neill stretched his arms out as wide as he could to illustrate.
"Really!" Carter said with feigned belief.
"Oh yes!" nodded O'Neill with even more enthusiasm.
"So, should I stand guard with a zat gun when you catch one sir?"
"Okay Carter, that's enough! I'll just have to explain the finer points of fishing to you." Carter thought for a moment.
"Alright sir, I'm listening." O'Neill looked at her, surprised by her response.
"This is the thing about fishing, see?" He waived his arms expansively. She looked puzzled.
"You know Carter, for someone as bright as you, you can be really dumb sometimes."
"Thanks sir" she said, mildly hurt. She was trying to understand, but he wasn't making it very easy. Waiving your
hands about is no substitute for a reasoned argument she thought irritably.
"Look Carter. Look at all this; the lake, the mountains, the peace and quiet, fresh air - no Goa'uld. This is what
fishing is all about!"
"And, so, but, therefore?" she prompted reprising his usual questioning of her scientific explanations.
"And. All this together makes being here very tranquil; very..." he struggled to find the right word, "very inspiring."
She was entranced by his words, seeing him in a new light. She had always thought he was a bit of a philistine, but
here he was enraptured by their surroundings and being so eloquent about it too.
"See fishing," he went on "it's not just about catching the fish. It's about how you do it, when you do it, where you
do it. It's about understanding how the fish thinks, what attracts it to your bait. There's a thrill to be had playing it on
the line, reeling it in, possessing it, marvelling at it's strength and beauty! Can you understand what I mean now
Carter?"
"Yes" she whispered caught up by his passion. His gaze held her. His eyes were darkened by his passionate outburst
and taking a deep breath he returned his focus back to the lake, his face serious.
Carter lay back on the lounger and watched the water. After a few minutes her neck relaxed and her head lolled to
one side. She was asleep.
Over the next hour or so O'Neill studied the lake, looking for the telltale circular ripples of fish feeding just under
the surface. There was nothing. Glancing at the darkening skies he could see it was clouding up and the breeze was
getting stronger, blowing down from the mountains. There was a growing chill in the air and it smelt like rain.
He glanced over to Carter's sleeping body. Her tall slim figure was stretched out on the lounger, her feet crossed.
Her hands were lying on her abdomen her fingers spread and relaxed. He watched her chest rise and fall slowly,
silently as she breathed. The breeze was blowing strands of her hair across her cheeks and her long lashes caressed
her face. O'Neill smiled to himself at least she was relaxing then he noticed two dark patches on her white stretchy
top. She was wearing something like a sports bra. It was sleeveless, low cut and finished at her midriff, exposing a
large band of skin between the garment and the waistband of her pants. The fabric was skin tight, and he could see it
expanding and retracting as she breathed. He suddenly realised that the two dark patches were her nipples
punctuating the centre of her full round firm breasts.
My god! She's not wearing a 'bra' bra! He stared at the unfettered breasts and sucked in a sharp breath. Get a grip
Jack! You're pushing the envelope way too far just thinking what you're thinking. He coughed loudly as he started to
gather up his fishing equipment making Carter stir and clasping her hands together she stretched her arms as she did.
O'Neill noticed how her breasts squeezed together, deepening her cleavage and he looked away quickly folding his
fishing chair.
"Good nap Carter?" he asked straightening up.
"Yeah, thanks sir," she yawned, and swung her legs over the edge of the lounger.
"Give me a couple of minutes and I'll come and help you with that." He needed to get away from the close proximity
he had to her.
"That's okay sir, I can manage."
"Well, follow me and I'll show you where to stow it."
They walked back to the cabin in silence. O'Neill was pondering on his physical reactions to her. What was he
thinking? There was no way he could act on them. After his confession to her about the fact that he cared for her, a
lot more than he was supposed to, they had agreed not to talk about it again. He knew this week was a test, a test of
his resolve, his agreement with her not to acknowledge their feelings for one another. He also knew that so far, he
was failing the test badly.
Carter followed O'Neill, man handling the heavy lounger. She watched him in front of her, his tall figure, broad
shoulders, greying hair and his tight butt. She was beginning to think this week was a bad idea. When she had
witnessed his passionate oratory about fishing and about the beautiful wilderness they were in, the feelings she had
for him had resurfaced. How would she react if things got up close and personal, while they were in the middle of
nowhere together? It was her suggestion they should bury their feelings and never talk about them again. She knew
this week would be a test of her resolve. Could she pass the test? She wasn't sure.
They stowed away the gear in the den and made their way to the tiny kitchen. They both busied themselves, she
making coffee, he rummaging through the box of supplies they had brought, finding what he wanted and throwing it
in the oven. They moved around the kitchen with careful choreography. Twice they made physical contact. She had
backed away from the counter just as he was trying to get past her. He had caught her around the waist to stop her
bumping into him. Later he had bent to open a cupboard door and she had planted a hand on his backside pushing
him in the ass to steady herself as she balanced plates and cups in her other hand. Each time there had been a
moment of awkwardness, profuse apologising and extended eye contact.
They carried what they needed to eat their meal through to the lounge, where there was a large table set up at one
end of the huge room. Whilst O'Neill finished preparing the meal Carter went to her room and put on an extra layer
of clothing over her sports bra to ward off the evening chill.
She was looking out of the floor to ceiling, wall to wall lounge window. It was now dark outside. She had cupped
her hands around her eyes to block out the reflection of the inside of the room, so that she could see into the dark of
the night outside. Just then O'Neill brought in two plates with food on them. He saw her standing by the window.
She was wearing a skintight black top with sleeves and even tighter black leggings. The outfit traced every contour
of her body and her blonde hair contrasted with the black density of her clothes. Her stared at her trim shapely form
and how the tightness of her leggings showed off her backside. He could make out the small gap between the tops of
her thighs and the small bulge of the pubic area between her legs. He thought he was going to drop the plates at the
sight of her and he suddenly became aware that the heat of the plates was burning his fingers.
"Shit!" That's hot!" he blurted as he dropped the plates on the table, blowing on his fingers to cool them down.
"Time to chow down Carter!" he called.
While they ate they talked about hockey, their school days, their hometowns. They talked about a lot of things whilst
studiously avoiding the one subject that was uppermost in their minds. Just as they had finished eating they heard
the distant rumbling of thunder, and saw a flash of lightening.
"I love thunder and lightening," they both said at once looking at each other and laughing. They cleared away the
table, tidied up the kitchen and went back to the lounge. The irony of sharing such a domestic routine was not lost
on either of them. They sat in silence for a while as he leafed through a fishing magazine and she looked out of the
window.
The storm was sweeping across the lake and the rain battered against the huge lounge window. The thunder grew
louder and the lightening blindingly bright. O'Neill got up and poked the log fire.
"Carter, I'm gonna douse the lights" he announced.
The adrenaline surged through her. What was he going to do once they were plunged into darkness? She was
concerned his resolve would crumble there and then and so might hers. He switched off the lights and joined her at
the window.
"See? You can see the lightening much better with the lights off."
They stood side by side, at the window for the next 30 minutes oohing and aahing as the storm crashed around them.
The lightening was like their very own personal light show, its performance spectacular. By the time the storm had
passed it had gotten quite late.
"Well sir," she said hesitantly, "I think I'll go to bed."
"Carter?"
"Sir?"
"Drop the sir. We're on vacation. Don't you think we could use first names...Sam?"
She had only ever heard him use her first name once or twice in all the time they had known each other. It sounded
strange, pleasing and intimate.
"Okay...Jack," she said smiling. He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. He too thought it sounded
strange, pleasing and intimate.
Sam stripped down to her sports bra and tiny black panties and grabbing a towel and her wash things headed for the
bathroom. The door was ajar when she got there. She could feel and see the steam filling the bathroom and she could
hear running water and peering through the opening she saw Jack under the shower. Through the clear Perspex
screen she could see his naked body, soap lather and water cascading down his muscular lean form. He had his back
to her and she watched as the water ran in rivulets over his back and buttocks. He dropped the soap and bent down
to retrieve it. His buttocks opened to reveal the tight puckered ring of his asshole. She could see his testicles
swinging between his legs. She swallowed hard, mesmerised by what she saw. He turned towards her; his eyes
squeezed shut as he rinsed shampoo from his hair. She could see his broad chest and shoulders, muscles rippling
through his abdomen and the dark pubic hair, straightened by the water. His large flaccid penis rested over the
curvature of his balls.
She stepped back and leaned against the hallway wall. She closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath and blew it
out slowly. Her heart was beating like stampeding horses; she was excited by his nakedness. She'd never seen him
completely nude before. She'd seen him in various states of undress, usually in the infirmary, usually after he had
sustained some kind of mission-inflicted injury. She'd only seen him once with just a flimsy sheet around his waist
when he had got involved with Kinthia, but never as she saw him now.
She resolved to go back to her room and wait for half an hour. He should be finished by then, and out of sight out of
mind. She tiptoed back to her room and sat on the edge of the bed not bothering to turn on the light. Since the storm
had passed, the sky had cleared and her room was illuminated by moonlight. Is it hot in here? Feeling the radiator
she wondered if Jack had turned up the heating. She lay on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling and she just couldn't
get the image of a naked, wet, muscular Jack O'Neill out of her head. She wondered what he would feel like - that
butt was tight, rounded and very sexy. She imagined running her hands over his body, cupping his balls, feeling his
cock rise in her hand.
God it's getting hot in here! She was suddenly aware of the dampness between her legs and a growing ache in her
groin and breasts as she pulled off her remaining items of clothing.
Wow, it's boiling in here! She ran her hand over her neck and throat down to her cleavage. She rested her hand for a
moment, her little finger nestling in the space between her breasts. Mmm this feels good. Bet Jack could make it feel
even better her mind idled. She ran her hand over her breast cupping it, and then running her wrist over her
hardening nipple. She felt a thrill shoot up her arm. Shifting and pressing her backside into the bed she spread her
legs. She felt a rising desire to touch herself and she slipped her hands to her pubic area feeling just how hot she
was. She spread her fingers around the top of her mound, pulled back slightly and exposed her clitoris from under
that small sheath of skin. With her other hand she dipped a fingertip into her wet vagina to moisten it and brought it
back to lubricate her clitoris.
She closed her eyes and ran the image of naked Jack through her mind, again and again imagining that her fingers
were his. Her breathing became shallow and irregular as she rubbed her clitoris, loving the feel of that hard little bud
and the sensations she was creating through it.
Meanwhile Jack had finished in the bathroom and with a towel wrapped round his waist he padded along the
hallway to Sam's room wanting to let her know the bathroom was free. He raised his hand to knock on the door and
noticed that it was slightly open. He peered through the opening not wanting to disturb her if she was asleep.
The sight he viewed at that moment made him both freeze and boil on the spot. He saw her naked on the bed, her
knees drawn up. Her eyes were squeezed shut concentrating on the activity between her legs. The end of the bed was
in the direct line of his sight and he could see her fingers playing her vagina and clitoris. He stepped back in shock
and surprise.
"Oh shit!" he breathed. He turned to go back along the hallway to his room as he heard her voice "Oh Jack! Jack, I'm
coming!" With that she moaned long and low, then panting. He turned back to look, he couldn't ignore the fact that
she was using his name. He saw her tremble and quiver as she climaxed. She closed her knees together, increasing
the pressure of her hand on her sex. Bucking and shuddering, and then relaxing, she lay spread-eagled, gasping for
breath.
Jack crept away and moved silently to his room. Sitting on his bed in the dark, he thought about what he had just
witnessed. He had seen her naked, seen her masturbating for crying out loud! He had heard her climaxing and using
his name. His penis was erect, raising the towel off his lap as he ran the image of those active little fingers and the
glistening wetness of her flesh. His stomach somersaulted. Pulling the towel away, he took his penis in his hand,
gripped tightly pulled and stroked. His balls ached like hell as he realised he had been ignoring semi arousal most of
the day and now he just couldn't ignore it anymore. He thought about how his fingers could have been doing what
hers had been doing. He imagined the feel of her hot wet flesh against his fingertips, and the sensation of sliding a
finger up inside her. It didn't take him long to climax and grabbing the towel he shot his load into it. He fell back on
the bed, his immediate desire satisfied. He knew it wouldn't be enough.
-o-
The next morning dawned bright and clear, the rain having washed and refreshed the landscape. Sam and Jack sat at
the lounge table enjoying a leisurely breakfast but neither said much, both feeling awkward, embarrassed and guilty
about their individual activities the night before. They both felt the other might know even though neither had
evidence, it was just a feeling. The sun shone through the huge lounge window, heating up the room. Jack slid open
one of the door sized window panels. This place is full of half opened doors he thought. Sam was thinking the same.
"I need to g into Gainsborough," Jack said. "I want to get some more fish bait and top up the rations. Do you want to
come for the ride?"
"Sure, that'll be good," she smiled back. "Do I need to take a coat?" He thought for a moment. The weather around
the lake could be changeable at this time of year and there was always the chance the wind would swing around and
blow cold air down from the mountains.
"Take a coat Sam, and a hat. You never know. If it stays warm you can always leave it in the car" he shouted as she
disappeared in her room to get her purse.
They drove along the shoreline. The lake sparkled in the light. It was truly beautiful, captivating. Twenty minutes
later they were in the tiny lake resort of Gainsborough. Jack parked the car by the boat pontoons, which stretched,
onto the lake. Just as they got out they heard a woman's voice.
"Hi Jack! You gonna come by and see me?"
"Ya sure ya betcha Martha!" Jack replied smiling and waiving at a small rotund grey haired woman gliding by on a
bicycle. Sam looked at Jack, raising her eyebrows for an explanation.
"That's Martha," said Jack reiterating what Sam had already picked up for herself.
"And who is Martha?"
"She runs the local store. Known her for years. She's been running the store since I was a kid."
They strolled side by side, enjoying the spring sunshine. No MP5s, P90s, no nine millimetres, no zat guns, GDO's or
backpacks. They both felt surprisingly liberated. Their only responsibility was collecting Jack's fish bait and
selecting something for dinner. Sam took a surreptitious glance at the tall self-confident man at her side. He was
smiling and humming to himself. He looked so relaxed and easy going. At this moment he was a man who belonged
to himself, to this tiny settlement, to the wilderness beyond. She swelled with pride as she walked in his company.
They arrived at Frank's Bait and Angling store.
"Hello Frank," drawled Jack, "how's business?"
"Well Jack O'Neill, look what the carp dragged in!"
"Thanks Frank, nice to see you too!" Jack quipped.
The two men stood facing each other for a second and then embraced. Jack slapped the other man on the back. They
shook hands warmly. Frank went back behind the business side of the counter and Jack seated himself on a high
back bar stool on the customer side.
"Well Jack, how's the insurance business?"
"Oh, good, good thanks Frank."
"What's it like being a city slicker behind a big desk then?" Sam glanced at Jack. What on earth was Frank talking
about?
"Well, y'know Frank, it's real busy, very busy" Jack offered. Frank's eyes alighted on Sam.
"Well now Jack, where have you been keeping this pretty lady?" He leaned over to Jack vainly trying to whisper,
but his voice was as loud as before.
"Look's like you've caught a real prize winner Jack! Landed her yet?" he laughed loudly, raising his eyebrows like
Groucho Marx. Sam blushed and looked away, staring at a display stand of fishing rods. Jack smiled and changed
the subject quickly.
"Need some bait Frank, watcha' got?" The two men were quickly engrossed in conversations about corn niblets and
boilies. Sam was easily bored by this kind of discussion and wandered outside. There was a diner just opposite. She
got herself a take away coffee and came back to Frank's shop. She sat on a wooden bench outside, enjoying the
sunshine and drinking her coffee. After about an hour, Jack emerged carrying several packages.
"Sorry, I was a bit long. Hope you haven't been too bored?"
"No, I've had coffee, sat on this bench and sunned myself. I'm fine really." She smiled, looking at the packages. "Did
you get what you wanted?" He nodded looking like a kid who had just raided the candy store. "Where next?" she
asked getting up.
"Martha's" he said, pointing down the street. As they walked people stopped them to say hello. Well they stopped
Jack to say hello. He didn't introduce them to Sam. She didn't mind at first, but after a while she was beginning to
feel like a spare part, an outsider in this part of his life. She wondered why he hadn't introduced her. Maybe he had
just forgotten his manners. Maybe he didn't want to say too much about his "insurance job" and how he knew her.
Maybe he just didn't want to acknowledge her existence. Maybe he was playing New Guinea bowerbird, collecting
trinkets and setting them before her, like a mating present. Whatever his reasons, she felt irritable and suddenly
realised she was feeling tired and hungry.
"Jack?"
"Yep?"
"Can we stop and eat? I'm feeling weak at the knees."
"Sure, we'll get something at Martha's."
They entered the store. It seemed dark inside, in contrast to the bright light of the sun outside. The small rotund
woman who was Martha wiped her hands on her apron and threw herself at Jack. She flung her hands on his cheeks
and kissed him full on the lips.
"Jack O'Neill! How lovely to see you. How's that insurance job going? Do you see much of George now he's behind
the bid desk? And what about Daniel? Is he still doing that geology thing, y'know with the rocks?" Jack nodded and
threw a glance at Sam. He smiled and shrugged as if to say, "had to tell them something!" Martha spotted Sam.
"And who's this Jack? Ooh you're a dark horse!" "Hung like one as well!" Sam shifted uncomfortably as this stray
thought shot into her head.
"Ah, this is Sam Martha."
"Hello Sam" the woman chimed, "and what do you do?" Jack cut in quickly, "Oh Sam works for me. She's a
technical specialist, does loss adjustment, invents new insurance policies, stuff like that." Sam smiled. She knew
what he was trying to do. These people were important to him, part of another life here by the lake. He didn't want to
shut them out, but he couldn't tell them the truth either.
"Now listen Jack, I'm going to close the store. I want you and your young lady to wait in the kitchen and I'll get
something to eat. Frank dropped in some bass earlier. I'll grill that with some mushrooms and salad. How does that
sound?"
"Great Martha thanks." He took Sam through a narrow dark hallway to a large kitchen
"You seem to know your way around Jack," Sam quipped.
"Of course, I've been coming here since I was a kid! Martha's like my surrogate mom!" They settled at the table.
Martha busied herself around the stove.
"You seen Sarah lately Jack?"
"Nope. She's courting, Martha. I don't hear from her very much at all."
"Well maybe it's time to move on," she called sympathetically above the crash of pots and pans. Jack glanced at Sam
and then down at the tabletop.
"Ooh, I haven't shown you this!" She handed Jack a newspaper cutting. It was a small article describing a local
fishing match. The photograph was of Jack holding a huge fish. The headline ran "Insurance executive wins
Challenge Cup!" He showed it to Sam, a broad grin on his face. Sam had been constantly surprised since they had
arrived at the lake. She was experiencing a side of Jack she didn't know existed. This man was an enigma, and was
becoming more attractive to her by the hour. He had more sides than a polygon she thought.
The spent a very pleasant couple of hours at Martha's place. Sam had heard all about her family and friends. Had
listened to stories about Jack and his fishing exploits, his teenage years and his relationships with various local girls.
"Hey Jack, are you going to take Sam to Ma's Lookout?"
"Yeah, thought we'd go tomorrow Martha."
"Ooh you'll love Ma's Lookout Sam. Make sure he takes you!"
They said their goodbyes and made their way back to the car. As they drove back along the lakeshore road Sam
commented "That's a very interesting cover story!"
"Yeah, the insurance thin seemed to fit the bill. I mean, that's what we do, insure earth stays free from the Goa'uld."
"I'd be very interested to hear how you would explain Teal'c," she giggled.
"I'm still working on that," Jack frowned, "y'know I could say he's George's handyman!" Sam giggled again.
"They're nice people, Frank and Martha."
"I know, they're like family." Jack's face was serious now. Their secret war had a personal agenda for him. They got
back to the cabin about 5pm. They unloaded the supplies and packed them away.
"If you don't mind Sam, I'd like to get in a few hours fishing. Wanna watch?"
"No, I don't think so Jack, but thanks for asking. I think I'd rather relax, play some of your CDs and generally chill.
Do you mind?"
"Nah! You do whatever!"
"When do you want to eat and I'll get it started?"
"Oh later, a lot later. Martha's lunches are always big! Is that okay?"
"Sure, I'll get something ready for about ten."
"Great! Go relax, read, play music!" and with that he was gone.
Sam wandered around the cabin for a while. She searched through his sparse collection of music. There didn't seem
to be anything more recent than 1978. Luckily she had brought some of her own CDs and chose to play Sting very,
very loudly. She flopped onto the sofa and closed her eyes. She thought about the events of the day and the people
she had met. She envied their ordinary lives and more than that felt jealous that they shared an intimacy with Jack
that she felt she would never be able to share. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She wasn't going to last the week.
She needed to leave, now.
Just then Jack appeared in the doorway. He was muddy, wet and cold.
"What happened to you?" she asked, concern on her face.
"Oh, I slipped and fell. Don't worry, I do it all the time!"
"Jack?"
"It's ok. I'll take a shower. Do you want to start supper? I think I'll call it a day." It was 9.30pm.
Sam turned on the stove, opened the fridge door, pulled out the steaks and attacked the vegetables. All the while she
knew Jack would be naked in the shower. She had to leave. She was not coping with any of this. Being in his
company away from the base, away from the context of their working relationship was making her feel vulnerable.
The whole thing was forcing her to re-evaluate her feelings for her commanding officer, for this strong, passionate
man whose depth of character she thought she knew until now. She stood over the stove, stirring the sauce for the
steaks. She wasn't really concentrating until she could smell burning.
"Damn!" She jumped and pulled the pan off the stove. Just then Jack came into the kitchen.
"What's up Sam? Sacrificing supper?"
"No, well, yes. The sauce caught that's all. I can make some more" she retorted, irritated.
"Hey, hey, hey!" he smiled, holding up his hands, "it'll be ok, it doesn't matter."
"Yes it does!" she shouted, putting one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead. She wanted to scream. She
had been distracted by him for the last 24 hours. She wasn't used to so many emotional surprises. She wasn't used to
sharing her time with someone else outside of work. She wasn't used to being with him, alone.
Jack saw she was upset, not just about burning the sauce, but something else.
"Hey, c'mere," he said softly, offering his hand. She stayed where she was. She knew if she took a single step
towards his arms she would lose it completely. She sniffed loudly, composed herself and gave him a weak smile.
"It's ok Jack, I'll get it sorted out. Why don't you get a couple of beers while I clean up?"
"Okaaaaay," he said, unsure what all that was about. He could see she wasn't right; there was a tension about her that
he couldn't explain. Had she been aware that he had watched her last night? He didn't think so. It had to be
something else.
They are in silence, punctuated by the occasional monosyllabic conversation from Sam, which went something like:
"Good day?"
"Yes."
"What did you think of Gainsborough?"
"Nice."
"Nice run along the lake shore."
"Yeah."
Sam only picked at her food. Jack ate all of his and finished hers. He pushed the empty plate into the centre of the
table and picked up his wine glass. He looked into the purple red liquid, smelling its scent. He gulped down the
remaining wine and looked at her.
"Wanna talk about it?" She shook her head, not daring to speak or look at him.
"Y'know you can tell me," he smiled.
"No I can't!" her brain shouted.
Jack waited patiently for a response. He wasn't expecting what he heard next.
"I want to leave Jack!" she blurted, "I want to go now!"
"What?" he asked, stunned. She glared at him without speaking.
"Why?" he persisted.
"Because." she said unhelpfully.
"Because what?" he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Because I have stuff to do at home," she proffered weakly.
"C'mon Sam, I'm not stupid. What's eatin' ya?"
"I just feel...uncomfortable here. This is your place and I feel like an intruder."
"Sam" he reached across the table to take her hand. She withdrew it quickly and put her hands in her lap. He felt like
she had slapped him. He got up from the table and walked around it, standing by her. He placed a hand on the back
of her chair and leaned into her, placing his other hand on the table by her elbow. His face was close and she could
feel his breath on her cheek.
"What the hell is up with you Sam?" he spoke carefully with a measured tone. She wouldn't look at him. He placed
his hand gently on her cheek and pulled her face to look at him.
"Please Sam," he whispered softly, "maybe I can help." She knew if she didn't act to stop this in a heartbeat she
would be lost, probably forever. She swung her legs over the edge of the chair, away from him.
"I'm fine, really, just a little tired. I'm sorry I've been unreasonable. You've been a very considerate host and I was
rude to you."
"Sam," he started to say.
"No Jack," she stopped him. "C'mon help me clear up and we'll have a game of cards."
They moved around the kitchen carefully, trying to avoid each other, chatting generally about the day. The tension
eased though there was a residual barrier between them.
They played a couple of hands of gin. When Jack went to the bathroom Sam rifled through her CDs and selected
Ravi Shankar. She loved the sound of the sitar. She found it relaxing, mesmeric. They played a few more hands and
Sam made coffee. They sate quietly listening to the music. Jack turned out the main lights. There was only a table
lamp shining and the wood fire glow in the hearth. The sitar music was rhythmic, sensual. Jack became aware of a
different kind of tension in the room. It was electric. He couldn't quite get a handle on it.
Sam shifted on the sofa as she read her book. Jack's attention was drawn to her movement. God she looked good.
His eyes moved over her form. He knew it so well, though he had not seen her wearing clothes that so closely
contoured her body. His mind shot back to the night before. There were certainly parts of her body that he would
like to know. "Hang on Jack, don't go there again!"
"Another coffee?" he offered, collecting the empty mugs. Sam glanced at her watch.
"No thanks, I think I'll go to bed now. Goodnight Jack."
"Sam? Do you really want to go home?"
"Maybe, I'll let you know tomorrow!" she smiled, not feeling like smiling inside.
"Okay," he said quietly, "tomorrow."
Sam flung herself on the bed and wept. She felt wretched. She felt really bad for Jack. She hadn't meant to throw
this place back in his face. She knew she'd hurt him, but she had to protect herself. She could not allow her guard to
drop; otherwise she would lose control and do something really stupid, like fall hook, line and sinker to use a fishing
phrase. She laughed without humour. She dried her eyes and searched her purse for a tissue to blow her nose. She
couldn't find one. She would have to go to the bathroom and use loo paper. She opened her bedroom door and
walked straight into Jack. They collided mid stride. Their eyes met. His dark brown eyes looked at her trying to read
what was in her mind. She felt her temperature rise rapidly under his gaze.
"Sorry," she spluttered, "I didn't know you were there." He said nothing, still studying her face. His hands slipped to
hold her upper arms.
"Have you been crying?" he asked looking concerned.
"No! Why would I be crying Jack? I just got something in my eye." He brushed a thumb across her eyebrow.
"Let me see."
"No!" she shouted, "I'm fine! Stop being so nice!" She pulled away from him and slammed her bedroom door. Now
she was angry, not with him but with herself. "Jack! Oh Jack! Why?" she shouted, "Why?"
Jack was still standing outside the door, stunned by her action. He heard her shouting his name. What the hell had he
done? Had he said something to offend her? Had he said something to upset her? He shook his head and went back
to the lounge. He reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels and poured himself a large glassful. He desperately wanted
to hold her, kiss her, and make whatever it was better for her. Why was she shutting him out? He slowly drank
himself into a stupor. He fell asleep on the sofa, still fully clothed.
Sam cried herself to sleep.
-o-
The next morning Jack woke to the sounds of Sam making coffee in the kitchen. He raised his head very slowly his
head ached powerfully.
Sam felt a complete wreck. Caring for somebody, wanting somebody was not mean to feel this bad.
"Jack," she whispered, "are you awake?" He moved his arm away from his eyes.
"Yeah," he groaned. She offered the coffee.
"Thanks," he rasped and groaned again.
"What happened to you last night?"
"Oh, I had a drink or ten."
"You look awful."
"Thanks Sam."
"Do you want some aspirin?" He nodded his head very carefully
Several hours later Jack staggered down to his little fishing jetty where he found Sam laid out on the lounger. As he
approached he did a double take. She was laying face down with nothing on except a pair of high cut Kylie Minogue
shorts.
"Oh god - not again!" he groaned. "Sam what do you think you are doing to me?" He couldn't retreat; she would
have heard his footsteps on the wooden planking of the jetty.
"Hi Sam," he called from a safe distance.
"Damn," she thought, I didn't think he'd be able to face daylight yet. She didn't know what to do. If she moved he
would see her breasts. If she stayed he might get the wrong message. She reached out her hand groping for her shirt.
Suddenly she felt the shirt pool in the middle of her back. He had sneaked up to her, grabbed the shirt and was
slowly pouring it onto her back.
"Looking for this?" he asked. "Don't bother on my account Sam." His voice was harsh.
"Oh god I must have pissed him off. I'm nice to him; he's nice to me. I shout at him, he's nice to me. I lay myself out
practically nude and he's offended. He has every right to be. I'm going home."
"Jack I'm sorry. I thought you were still hung over in the cabin. If you turn around I'll get dressed and be out of your
hair. I'm going home Jack. Just take me to a greyhound and I'll be gone."
She slipped on the shirt and walked down the jetty to the cabin. Jack stood with his hands on his hips looking at the
sky. He couldn't bear to look at her beautifully rounded ass in those shorts.
By the time he got back to the cabin she had packed her bags and was picking up her music CDs, jamming them into
her purse.
"Sam please don't go," he asked, crestfallen.
"I'm sorry Jack, it's not you, it's me. I'm just not a country girl."
"No it's more than that Sam, we need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about Jack, remember?" Jack looked confused. Had he missed something?
"The zatarc thing Jack," she hinted.
"Oh that. I get it."
"Jack can you get my bags, I'll grab my coat."
"Sure" he said impassively. He was well practised at not showing his feeling when he had to. He took her bags to the
car and waited for her. She joined him, waiting for him to unlock the door.
"See these?" Jack held up his car keys, dangling them in the sunlight.
"Car keys?"
"Yep. See this?" To Sam's horror he turned and threw them into the lake.
"Jack! Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?" shouted Sam.
"We're not going anywhere until we talk" he insisted.
"Jack, you can't do this. Your keys? What are you going to do?"
"I'll think of something," he said flippantly. Sam stood still. She threw a poisonous glare in his direction. He ignored
it, picked up her bags and went back to the cabin. Sam had no choice but to follow him. It was five miles up a steep
track to the main road and at least eight to Gainsborough and by now it was mid afternoon. She felt cornered,
knowing that he was determined enough to make this a successful mission, no matter what the collateral damage.
"Jack, you do know you are out of order?"
"Yep."
"Well don't you care?"
"Yep."
"Well, why are you doing this?"
"I don't want you to leave Sam." She shook her head she couldn't answer him. She knew why.
"Look Jack, we agreed didn't we? Remember what I said? None of this had to leave this room. I meant it Jack and
you agreed."
"Yeah well that was then and this is now," he said forcefully. She was taken aback. She walked away from him, too
angry to talk. He'd made her stay, made her choiceless. He grabbed her arm and spun her round to face him. He took
her head in his hands and leaned towards her. He looked into her eyes and not flinching, kissed her hard. She fought
to push him away. He held her firm. She started to pound his chest, squealing from her throat. He grabbed one
flailing arm, then the other and pinned her hands behind her back with one hand. He held her shoulders with his arm
across her shoulder blades. She was well and truly pinned. He released her lips to let her breath. She was angry, a
crazy woman.
"What the fuck are you doing colonel?" She had mentally slapped him again. She could have him up on charges for
this. He decided to call her bluff.
"Major!"
"You can't do this Jack, let me go!"
"Only if you promise not to beat me up!"
"Some hope!" she shouted back and as he released her she lunged at him. He deftly stepped to one side and she went
sprawling on the floor. Before she could gather herself he was on top of her, straddling her hips, pinning her arms
above her head. He shifted down her body to straddle to top of her thighs. He didn't want a kick in the back of his
head.
Her emotions were raging - she felt beaten, humiliated and very vulnerable. He was strong, impassive and on top.
"Listen to me Sam. We have to talk whether you want to or not. The sooner we do this, the quicker we can get on
with our lives, one way or another," he added. She started to calm down, knowing he was right.
"Okay," she gasped "uncle!" He looked at her, trying to size up how genuine her surrender was. He'd have to trust
her not to try and attack him again; otherwise there was no point in going any further. He let her go, stood up and
hauled her to her feet. Her forward momentum meant he had to catch her. He held her again by the upper arms. They
stood looking at each other, their faces and their lips just inches apart. God she wanted to kiss him. Even though his
first kiss was rough and hard, it still sent sparks flying through her system. She started to tremble and burst into
tears, leaning against him, sobbing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
"Talk to me Sam," he pleaded, "please I want to understand."
"I can't do this," she said looking away.
"Why?"
She knew why. She had worked hard over the last 24 hours to rebury her feelings. She was on a knife-edge and
struggling to find a safe passage away from it.
"Because it's too hard Jack."
"But that's never stopped you before. You used Sokar's technology to get me back from Edora, and you found away
to save us on Ernest's planet."
"This is different Jack. I'm dealing with a number of factors and variables I can't predict."
"Say again?" Jack was confused. He was still holding her. At least this time she wasn't trying to kill him. She took a
deep breath.
"Jack, that agreement we had? I'm finding it too hard to keep. That's why I have to leave. Do you understand?" He
looked at her and smiled.
"Sam that was then and this is now." He cradled her face in his hands. He drew her lips to his and kissed her. This
time gently, feather light. Slowly Sam yielded to his touch. She ran her hands over his shoulders and around his
neck. He broke off the kiss and drew back to look at her again.
"We can't deny this Sam, look what happens when we try." He was right damn him, and she knew it. She reached up
and kissed him. He ran his tongue along the line of her lips. He pushed and probed her lips until she allowed his
tongue entry. She kept her lips taught as he penetrated. "God she's good!" thought Jack. Their kisses became more
passionate and frenzied. She pulled herself away from his octopus grip, gasping for breath. Her lips were red and
swollen by their kisses.
"Jack please, let's slow down. We've got three more days. Let's take it easy, carefully." He nodded disappointed but
not wanting to overwhelm her.
They made dinner. This time their kitchen choreography was very different. They enjoyed their close proximity,
touching each other "accidentally". As he passed her, she had arched her back and presented her neat little backside.
He had planted his hands on her buttocks and squeezed on his way to the fridge. She had reached over his shoulders
for coffee mugs and had blown gently in his ear.
They are dinner slowly, she offering him morsels of food, he doing the Sam. They tidied the kitchen, becoming
more and more aware of the sexual tension building between them.
As on previous evenings, Jack switched out the lights except for the table lamp. The wood fire was just glowing
embers, but still very warm.
He went to his bedroom and brought back his duvet, spreading it on the floor in front of the fire. They lay together
watching the flickering flames. Jack stroked her face idly, almost absent mindedly, just glad to be in this place with
her.
She peeled off her sloppy Joe, feeling hot. She was wearing a loose cotton blouse and print skirt. He planted a kiss
on her cheek and ran his fingers over her face. She sighed.
"I think it's bedtime Jack."
"Great" he thought. She kissed him quickly and whispered, "See you tomorrow!" She got up and walked out of the
lounge. He lay there, not believing what she had done. He knew she had said take it slow, but not this slow. He
didn't bother turning the light on. He just shed his clothes and fell into bed. He pulled up the now redundant duvet
and closed his eyes. He had had a raging hard on at least twice since she had tried to kill him. Maybe if he sought
some relief now, he would be able to do her justice when she did decide she was ready. He slipped his had below the
covers and suddenly felt a hand on his semi erect penis.
"What the?"
"Hi Jack," Sam said giggling.
"How did you get in here? I didn't hear you."
"You're not the only one who can perform silent manoeuvres!" He switched on the bedside light. Sam was
gloriously naked. She knelt down on the bed beside him, her breasts available to his view.
"Sam I want you," he confessed, his voice low, hunting and dangerous. He sat up. She straddled his lap outside the
duvet. He could her weight but not the detail of her body. He pouted his bottom lip showing his disappointment. She
leaned forward, to hold the top edge of the headboard, arching her back, her eyes were shut and her head was back.
She moved her breasts against his face, her nipples brushing his lips, tantalising his senses. He lifted his hands to
touch her. She grabbed his wrists, turned his hands palms up and pinned them under her knees. She continued to rub
her breasts across his face. He groaned trying to capture a nipple. She leaned back on her haunches, cupped a breast
in her hand and worked her nipple. It hardened before his eyes. She slipped her other hand behind his head and
offered her breast to his mouth.
"Suck me," she whispered. He groaned into her breast. He wanted to pull his hands away from under her knees.
"Not yet Jack, not yet!" She pulled away and offered the other breast. "Suck me again Jack." Her voice caressed his
senses. When she pulled away again he begged her to release his hands.
"This is payback time Jack. You threw away you car keys to keep me here against my will. Now you pay." She
smiled. He thought he was going to die, he already thought he was in heaven. She went back to brushing her breasts
against his face, stroking his chest with her fingers. She leaned down to kiss his nipples. He moaned with pleasure.
He wanted to touch her, badly.
"Please Sam," he pleaded again.
"Payback Jack!" she reminded him. She ran her tongue over his face, shoulders and upper arms. She moved her
hands down his sides. She knew if she wanted to pull back the duvet to delve further south she would have to release
his hands. She whispered in his ear,
"I'm going to release your hands Jack. I want to pull back the covers. You must promise me you won't touch me
before I say you can. If you touch me before I say, I'll stop and go back to my room. Promise?" He nodded smiling.
He could do as she asked, no problem. How wrong he was.
She moved back the duvet. She was still straddling his hips, her thighs wider than they needed to be.
"Move down the bed," she said huskily. She stayed in position as he moved. She was now straddling his lower chest,
below his rib cage. She was really stretching now. He breathed in slowly, expanding his chest. It rose to meet her
pubic hair. He could feel her wetness against him. He moaned again.
"Please Sam, let me touch you. Please!" She leaned forward to kiss him, but she could only reach his lips if she
flattened herself on top of him. He could feel her breasts against him. She kissed him and spoke against his lips.
"Alright Jack, touch me." He moved his arms around her and turned her. He was now on top of her. He shifted his
weight to one side so that he could access her body with his hands. He kneaded her breasts gently, pinching her
nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He held her left breast, testing the weight of it, the feel of it, the
roundness and firmness of it. She moaned softly, raising her hips.
He ran his hands down over her abdomen, increasing the pressure with the heel of his hand. He desperately wanted
her vagina. He moved his hand down further, kissing her lips softly, slowly. He reached her pubic hair and felt her
mound under his palm. He felt for her clitoris. He pressed against it then dipped the tip of his finger into her vagina
quickly and rubbed his lubricated middle finger against her hard little bud.
"Ooh! Jack!" she breathed, "That's good, very good." He started to flick his fingertip against her. She raised her hips,
pushing against his touch. She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her vagina.
"Take the hint Jack," she urged. He did, sliding his long elegant finger into her hot wet opening. He slid his finger in
and out with long slow movements.
She felt for his erection, wrapping her fingers around his rock hard penis and stroked him, adopting his finger
fucking rhythm.
Their groans grew louder as they wanked each other. He pushed her hand away from his penis.
"I'm too close Sam, too close." She immediately replaced her hand on his cock.
"Take me Jack, fill me now!" He moved between her thighs. She raised her knees and hips. She kept her grip on his
rod and guided it into her, not letting go. He started to push into her and still she held him as he entered her. She
loosened her grip feeling him slip into her through her hand.
She rocked her hips to take his length. He was big and stretched her to fit him. He pushed into her, penetrating her
deep and hard.
"Faster Jack, faster!" He upped his stroke rate, pushing harder and harder into her. He was right on the edge, just a
few more strokes. He shifted his angle of entry slightly and put pressure on her clitoris. She cried out with pleasure,
grabbing his buttocks pulling him in deeper still.
Her breath caught in small gasps and she stiffened.
"I'm coming Jack, now, yeeeeeesssss!" She screamed her climax. He exploded with her as they climaxed together.
Their orgasms left them shuddering as the aftershocks rippled through their bodies.
They relaxed and he moved off her.
"Sam? I think I've just landed the biggest fish in my life!"
"Ya sure ya betcha!" she smiled.
-o-
Jack woke early the next morning, surprised and pleased to feel Sam in his bed. She was still asleep, curled up in the
foetal position with her back to him. He rolled over and snuggled into her back, sliding his arm around her waist and
resting his hand on her breast. He closed his eyes and revelled in the new feeling of being two instead of one and
alone. He idly stroked her breast enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin. Though she was still asleep she
pushed her backside against his groin and moaned. This encouraged him to concentrate a little more closely on her
breasts. He rubbed against her nipples, pinching and pulling gently. She moved again, pressing against him in
response. He kissed her neck and shoulder. He nuzzled her ear, whispering, "You're so gorgeous Sam."
"You're welcome Jack," she murmured still half asleep. He smiled into her hair, feeling the beginnings of an
erection. He continued to kiss her as he moved his hand across her abdomen. She shifted her position by
straightening the leg she was laying on and bending her knee and pulling up her free leg towards her chest. This
gave Jack access to her labia. He pushed his finger between her lips to test her readiness. She was hot and dry. He
pulled away and put his finger in his mouth to moisten it and drew it around the edge of her opening. This lubricated
his entry. By now she was awake and moaning at his activity within her. She shifted again, rising up on all fours,
arching her back and offering her backside to him. He moved behind her and guided his cock into her. He moved
slowly, gently giving her time to really wake up.
He held her hips and moved. She rocked on her knees, pushing against him as she met his thrusts. Her breasts were
pendulous, moving and swaying as she moved against him and thrust into her. His penetrating strokes were getting
deeper, faster, and stronger. She reached for her clitoris and rubbed hard and fast.
"Now Jack, I'm coming! Ohmigodohmigodohmigod!!!"
He pumped fast with short quick strokes, pounding into her. Again, they exploded together and collapsed onto the
bed.
"Wow Sam!" gasped Jack, "I can't tell you just how much you turn me on, how much I want you."
"I know Jack, you make me feel the same."
They got up eventually, showered together, ate breakfast together and lounged together. In fact they had never been
so together.
After lunch, Jack took Sam to Ma's Lookout. They were high up on a bluff, overlooking the lake. Sam marvelled at
the view of the mountains, the forested hillsides and big open sky. She decided that she still wasn't interested in
fishing, but was completely committed to what went with it, especially Jack. Yes, she wanted to grow old and die
here, as long as she and Jack were together. She inhaled the fresh smell of pine and looked at the man beside her.
Yep, fishing had its rewards!
-o-