by Suz suzvoy@tesco.net

Disclaimer – MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.

This is entirely Morjana's fault. Seriously. She gave me the plot; all I did was put my words to it. Justly, this is dedicated to her.

Special thanks to Vicky. Without her wonderful 'Getting Some Lunch' to inspire me, this would have been a lot longer in coming (nudge nudge, wink wink).

Okay, you might wanna prepare yourself before your read any further. If you have any available cushions and pillows, place them around the immediate area. Okay. You done? Ready?

Brace yourself kids: Suz has written a story where Sam and Jack are already in a relationship, and...(whispers)...they actually have sex. Who'd have thunk? Though I don't think there's anything too bad, it's rated R, just in case. Soooo not my usual style – I won’t be making a habit of this. Set season four or five. You pick!



"I am being careful," He responded in his typical 'I'm not listening to a word you're saying so I'm just going to mimic your demand' voice.

"It doesn't feel like you're being careful."

"Tell you what; let's swap places and then you'll discover just how very careful I'm being, okay?"

She knew he wasn't actually intending to swap places, mostly because his gaze kept focusing on the steps beneath his feet. One wrong move and both of them would end up in a precarious position.

She was in a pretty precarious position as it was.

Their latest mission to P7X 216 had gone surprisingly well. No Goa'uld's, no bad guys, in fact no sign of current civilisation at all. A few ruins that the archaeologists (including Daniel) were over-excited about, but there'd been no sign of danger whatsoever.

Until the journey back to the gate, where she'd encountered her most formidable foe yet:

A log.

Much to her own mortification, that piece of wood had accomplished what dozens of Goa'uld's hadn't been able to do; it had taken her out of commission - and in quite spectacular style, too.

It had been completely her own fault. They'd both agreed that their relationship would stay strictly away from work, and on Earth. Nothing was ever going to happen at the SGC, or while they were off world.

Although, she had to admit, they'd broken that SGC rule a couple of times already. If only it didn't have so many convenient store rooms...

It wouldn't have been a problem at any other time, but on this particular mission she’d really had nothing to do. In fact, for once she'd been bored almost the entire time (which had amused the hell out of him because their situations were usually reversed). So, as they'd trooped back to the gate and he'd been walking right in front of her, she couldn't help it: she'd begun staring at his rear.

It was something she'd become incredibly familiar with over the last couple of months, and it was as she recalling some of the very memorable ways she was familiar with it that it happened.

Falling, she'd squawked loudly and with a complete lack of finesse or even a hint of the fact that she'd ever had military training, she flapped her arms around like an idiot before landing painfully on the ground, sure she'd heard the sickening sound of something breaking.

And sure enough, she had.

He'd reacted instantly, yelling at Daniel to rush ahead and dial the gate, then asking Teal'c to pick her up - moving would be all around quicker that way. He'd murmured comforting words in between making fun of her - the way he always dealt with his concern - and before long they'd arrived back at the SGC.

Janet had already been waiting, and within seconds she'd been whisked off to the infirmary.

The prognosis was good; a clean break that was expected to heal nicely and quickly, though she'd still be out of action for a while.

Now, after being kept in overnight, she'd been told to go home.

And Jack was insisting on helping.

She couldn't help but tease him as he reached the final step. "You know, this really isn't very romantic, Jack."

"Screw *ro*mantic," He argued, one arm supporting her thighs and the other supporting her back as he lifted her up towards her porch. "I prefer *prag*matic." Then they were there, at the top. They'd cleared the steps. "Finally," He groaned. He was definitely putting on a show for her benefit. At least, she hoped so. Her cast couldn't weigh *that* much...and if anything he'd often complained that she didn't weigh enough.

He shuffled the few feet towards the door, then paused. And kept pausing. Realising what had happened, she thumped her head back against his shoulder and fondly tightened the arm wrapped around his body. "This probably would have been easier if you'd gotten the key out earlier."

He tried to sound annoyed, but she could tell he wasn't. Well, not really. "Thank you Madam Obvious. You couldn't have said that when we were in the car?"

It was nicely ironic, actually. He'd driven them home in her car, and the car key was on the same key ring as the house key. No doubt as he'd helped her out of the car, he'd shoved the key ring into a pocket.

"Look," He told her. "You'll have to get it. Left jean pocket."

That she could do. That pocket was on the side of his body her torso was closest to, so reaching behind and down with her left hand, she eventually encountered his hip. Slowly moving towards the front of his body, her fingers blindly searched for-



"That's *so* not where the key is."

"Oh. Sorry." Not that she was really. Not that she'd done it on purpose. Ohhh no. Moving back towards the left, she felt what had to be the rim of the pocket and her fingers dived in, straining against the denim material in their quest. Finally they were successful, pulling out the keys and holding them up, jangling noisily. "Ta daa."

"Very nice," He grinned, rolling his eyes. "This'll probably be easier if you do it." Moving slightly, he angled her body towards the door.

Finding the right key she angled it towards the keyhole and eventually found her target, inserting the key and turning the lock. With a last emphatic movement she pushed the door slightly open, leaving him to do the rest.

Of course, he chose to use her body to push the door the rest of the way open.


"Oh, I...sorry."

Stumbling into first the hallway and then the living room, he gently lowered her down onto the sofa. With a great sigh of relief he straightened up and rubbed at his no doubt aching back. "I could seriously use a drink. You?"

"Water, please."

Placing a quick kiss on her lips as he went, he then left Sam to her own devices. Throwing the key ring she was still holding onto the table a few feet away, she set about trying to get comfortable. It wasn't easy. Her right leg, firmly ensconced in plaster, didn't seem to find any position comfortable. Shifting, she continued to mutter and wince.

"Bad?" He was in the doorway, watching her.

"Irritating," Sam responded. "I didn't realise how much I appreciated my legs before."

Smiling, he walked in and it was only then that she noticed the two glasses of water he was holding. Passing one to her, he took a sip of his own before placing the glass down next to the key ring.

Shrugging his jacket off and placing it on the closest chair, he pulled out the contents of one of the pockets. Frowning, he read the small print. "You can't have another one of these for...three hours, yet."

Sam knew that. She did. It just didn't make the growing pain in her leg any easier to deal with. "It'll be fine. It's not so bad." Or she could probably chew it off herself - surely that'd be less painful.

Lowering the bottle Janet had given him - well, had actually given Sam but he'd promptly taken it from her once they were out of earshot and declared it his responsibility. (Sam hasn't known whether to think his behaviour really sweet or really offensive, and was currently hovering somewhere in between) - Jack glanced towards her. "You know, there is something else that's good for pain and generally makes you feel better."

Emptying the contents of the glass into her mouth, she studied him suspiciously. "There is?"

And suddenly the bottle was gone, her glass was gone, and he was kneeling in front of her, leering.

He had to be kidding, right? Did he have any idea how un-sexy she felt at the moment? "Jack, I really don't think sex is-"

"Who said anything about sex?" He interrupted, his gaze moving down to her groin.

Oh, well...if he absolutely *insisted*. "In that case, sure." It paid to be selfish sometimes; she was feeling un-sexy - not stupid.

Getting her pants off was a mission in itself, but at least she'd slipped back into the BDU's she'd been wearing off world just for comfort's sake. The right leg had been cut open to gain easy access to the injury so at least there would be no trouble getting that part of her pants over her leg.

Needing no urging she lifted her hips, wincing a little. Jack supported her where he could, trying to ease the pain on her leg. With some wiggling and some shifting and some "Damn it!"'s from both of them, the pants were eventually off.

Of course, they'd neglected to remove her underwear at the same time. They really had to think these things out more carefully - but that was how their whole relationship had progressed so far. None of it had been planned.

Nothing from the first unexpected coupling starting in his kitchen, to this moment, trying to pull her underwear over the cast on her leg.

It was really quite funny.

He apparently thought so to, as he finally tugged the scant piece of clothing from the end of her leg and grinned. "This is a first,"

"Me too," She agreed, appreciating his assistance as he helped her move, trying to make her comfortable and also to give himself better access.

They got there eventually, and he rubbed a hand on the side of her head. "You good?"

Sam smiled. "I'll be even better in a few minutes."

Chuckling, he leant his head down for a kiss and then lowered it further, to her ear. "Just relax."

She couldn't help it. His voice was so close, his breath flowing into her ear, her mind very much aware of what was about to happen - so she shivered.

Closing her eyes, she lay still. As much as she enjoyed participating, there was something to be said for being treate-


His lips were on her neck, definitely one of the top five places on her body she liked him touching. He was kissing from a rather odd angle given the way her body was situated, but she really didn't care as long as he kept doing it.

A hand rested on her stomach outside of her top. It rubbed; kneading her flesh through the clothing as his lips moved from her neck to her mouth and then back again.

There was no doubt in her mind right then that Jack was in fact very sweet and, if he kept this up, would never be offensive ever again.

The hand moved under her top, pressing against her skin, then edging the shirt she was wearing up until it was gathered around her neck. With a quick pause in the kissing he removed it completely and then he was back, caressing her breasts.

Sam sighed, happy, feeling the tension begin to build in her stomach.

And he continued; kissing, touching, rubbing, sucking and licking until she wasn't so much relaxed as she was desperate for him to do what he promised. "Jack..."

Obviously delighted at her breathy demand - that damn grin she spied between half-closed lids was a dead giveaway - he met her lips for one last hungry, greedy kiss. Then, breaking away, he began to kiss his way down her body.

By the time his lips reached her stomach, her insides felt like they were crushed together in a clamp.

And then he was *there* and she gasped, her head tilting back as she forgot for a few seconds that she'd broken any bones at all. She chewed on her bottom lip, her right hand clinging on to the top of the sofa as he continued to deliver on his promise...

And that was when he made his mistake. That he forgot that certain areas of her upper thighs were incredibly sensitive - and ticklish.

So he did something - she didn't know what, just something - and her response was immediate. Yelping, she sat up, instinctively whacking her legs closer together - and whacking him in the process.

She heard - and felt - his howl of agony.



"So what happened?"

Jack furtively glanced towards Sam. Oh yeah, he could just imagine explaining this one to Fraiser: "Well, you see Doc, I was giving your best friend oral sex when she freaked out and clobbered me with her leg."

Instead, he opted for the truth. Or as much of that as he could get out, anyway.

"I bid my dunggg."

Fraiser's lips pursed together in a bad attempt at hiding her humour. "Yes Colonel, I'm well aware that you bit your tongue. I'm actually more interested in *how* it happened."

Again, a furtive glance at Sam. The journey in had been a memorable one; with Carter unable to drive he'd been at the wheel deliberately sticking his tongue out of his mouth, as they frantically tried to come up with a cover story. It wasn't easy given the fact that he couldn't talk properly. "I ffell oder."

And again, with Fraiser's pursed lips. Annoyed, he glared at Sam. "Carder?"

Nodding, she took over. "The Colonel took me home and ensured I was safely inside my house. As he was leaving the living room he tripped over the coffee table and...the rest is history."

Of course 'the rest' included Sam's madcap attempts to get dressed or even to actually move, while he'd been howling around the room yelling, "Ice! Get some ice!" Not that his demands had actually ended up sounding anything like that.

But they weren't mentioning that to Fraiser. No one knew about their relationship, not even her. It was something that had been causing Sam consternation of late, and Jack knew she was still debating whether or not to tell her.

Jack suspected she already knew.

"Well," Fraiser mused aloud, "There are no other signs of a fall...I guess you got lucky."


A nurse on the other side of the infirmary snorted.

He would have made a response, but it seemed like too much effort.

All business, the doctor continued. "Unfortunately there's not a lot I can do. This kind of injury is very hard to treat. Now while you haven't done any serious damage and I can continue to give you something for the pain, the greatest healer - as usual - is going to be time."

Time? Jack didn't wanna hear that. His noise of protest ended up sounding more like a really pathetic whine.

"I'm sorry Colonel, but that's all I can say. Recommend you stick mostly to soup for the next few days. At the very least, it'll teach you to be careful about where you put your tongue, huh?"

Carter, sitting on the end of the bed he was resting against, suddenly suffered from a coughing fit - which had to be doing her leg a world of good.

Fortunately Fraiser was called away by the amused nurse. "Excuse me for a minute, I'll be right back."

When she was gone, he felt a hand rubbing against his back.

"How are you feeling?"

Jack shrugged, not really sure what to say. "Yuu dry do doo domething nicce an dis iss bwat happens." Ow, dammit, ow.

The expected sympathy wasn't forthcoming. Instead, her head rested against the edge of his shoulder as her body shook with silent laughter.

Great. Was no one going to feel sorry for him?



The hand moved. Her head lifted.

Daniel and Teal'c had walked in.

The archaeologist came to stop a few feet away from them. "We heard you were in here, but not why. What happened?" He was confused, obviously not seeing anything immediately wrong.

Jack sighed. "I bid my..." Ah, screw this. He looked at Sam.

"...his tongue," She finished. "He bit his tongue."

"How, O'Neill?"

"He fell over."

He looked back at them as they looked at him, and then he shrugged. "Crusmy meee!"

Sam continued, explaining what Fraiser had told them. She was quite handy to have around really...but then he'd long since discovered that, for a wide variety of reasons.

Once assured it was nothing serious, Daniel turned his attention to Sam. "How's your leg?"

Everyone's eyes fell on the cast. "As good as can be expected. I don't think it hurts as much as it did earlier."

"That's great,"

"Yeah," she grinned. "It is."

If Jack had feathers, he would have ruffled them. True, it hadn't ended quite the way it was supposed to and she hadn't been entirely satisfied - *so* not his fault - but he'd definitely been a distraction.


Jack's feathers flattened. Hammond was there. "Dir,"

His superior moved towards the group, obviously concerned. "What happened?"

They spoke for him:

"He bit his tongue."

"Jack bit his tongue."

"O'Neill bit his tongue."

Ah, what the hell?

"I bid my dunggg."


"Can I white domething on dor cassst?"

"I don't know - will it have an obscene drawing to accompany it?"

"Doe," He insisted, pretending to be mortified by the idea. "Off coorse dot."

It had been one of his most interesting sexual encounters. She couldn't use her right leg, and his mouth and tongue were out of action - they'd had to find other things to rely on. And while it had certainly been very enjoyable and a lot of fun (they'd always had fun in the bedroom, but this had been funnier than most), he couldn't wait until he could kiss her again.

There was simply nothing quite like it.

Now they were huddled together on her bed, naked - and as much fun as *this* was, he was really, really hot. "Deed dwink,"

"Another one?" She mock protested, burying her head into the pillow. "You better be back in here within thirty seconds."

Knowing when not to argue with her he zipped off the kitchen and, rather than have to make a return trip later, brought the six-pack back with him. Doc had told him he really shouldn't have alcohol, but after the day he'd had he deserved at least one.

Climbing back into bed, he wasn't surprised to find she was dangerously close to falling asleep. Careful of her leg, he pulled her towards him, and rested his chin against the top of her head.



"So how are you doing?" Janet asked.

"Good," Sam declared, smiling as her friend helped her up onto the infirmary bed. "I think I'm getting used to this thing. I'm certainly moving faster than I used to - of course that doesn't mean that I *don't* want it off as soon as possible!" It was so frustrating and limiting. She could only hope that this check-up would provide good news.

"Well that's have a look, huh?" Janet moved her hands towards the bottom Sam's pants - she was still wearing the BDU's. Lifting up the end of the right leg she studied the cast. "And you haven't felt the cast moving out of place at all?"

"Nope. Firm and solid."

"Glad to hear it." Her head moved around the leg where it hung off the edge of the bed, studying it from different angles. "I don't thi...nk...oh."

"'Oh'?" Sam frowned. "Janet?"

Standing up, Janet smiled. "I think maybe you should have a word with Colonel O'Neill about his sense of humour."

"Sense of-?" Oh. Crap. She'd completely forgotten. "Oh. Yeah. He asked a couple of nigh-days ago if he could write something, but I was probably asleep-on the sofa, on the sofa-at the time and didn't notice." Naturally, he'd written whatever it was in the least accessible place possible for her eyes. "What's he put?"

"Oh nothing," Janet responded, still grinning, picking up her clipboard and doodling on it.


"It's really not that important."


"Well to start with," She conceded, still doodling. "To my experienced eye it looks like an inebriated scrawl. He was drunk when he wrote this - so this is *entirely* his own fault. I told him not to, but does he ever listen to my advice?"

He barely listened to *her* advice. "But what does it *say*?"

The grin returned in full force, as Janet stopped doodling, and turned the clipboard towards her.



Lots and lots of crap.

How were they going to get out of this one?

She read it again, and shook her head.


And when did he start writing like a teenager?


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