Title: Somewhere Else Author: Nicky Chevalier Feedback: It's an order. [email protected] Rating: NC-17 Summary: Fishing-fic. Need I say more? Content Warnings: The usual: sex and sap. My favourite combination. <g> Category: S/J romance. Status: Complete Archive: Anywhere. Spoilers: Upto and including 'Disclosure'. Authors Notes: Without the inordinate amount of help I got from Jen, who I hereby officially name *the* most fantabulous beta ever, this fic would have long ago become a forgotten memory. Just giving credit where credit's due. Disclaimer: I still don't own 'em. =========== "...it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that" --The Red Queen, Alice Through the Looking Glass =========== *** He was going to ask her again. She could feel it. She knew without having to look up that it was him standing in the doorway to her lab-- he was after all the only one who ever walked in whistling the theme music to the Simpsons-- and she knew with that same certainty that he was going to ask her again. "Whatcha doing?" She quickly finished the equation she was working on and looked up to greet her CO. "Just working on some calculations to fix the X302's hyperspace generator." "Carter, you can't *fix* something that never worked in the first place." She smiled slightly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Okay, I'm working on some calculations to *make* it work." She returned her attention to the numbers in front of her. "Right." He looked at her pointedly. "You *do* know we're on downtime, right?" She nodded distractedly, engrossed again in the work. "The thought had crossed my mind, Sir, yes." It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Do you seriously not have anything better to do?" He toyed absently with a glass beaker. "Or at least, do you not have anything more *fun* to do?" She gave him her standard raised eyebrow look but didn't answer, too busy mentally preparing for the refusal she was about to give. Wait for it... "Well, I'm goin' up to the lake. You could come, if you wanted." And there it was. How to turn him down this time? The work excuse was wearing a little thin. "Uh... I... Sure." Wait a minute. What?! That was not what she'd meant to say. What the hell was going on here?! When had her mouth disconnected itself from her brain? This was not good. His eyes widened, the beaker falling forgotten from his hands and shattering on the bench surface. "You... you're..." He hurriedly started picking up the larger pieces of glass, trying to hide his surprise. "You're coming? ...Um... Great. I'll pick you up around 1500, then?" She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth after its last betrayal of her, and watched him leave, sitting down heavily in her seat as his retreating form disappeared into the corridor. What the hell had she just done? *** "What the hell did I just do?!" Sam ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes in frustration with herself. 'Finally got your act together,' Janet thought, but stayed silent, not having an answer that wouldn't earn her a verbal ass kicking. "What am I *going* to do?!" She thought again about just calling and backing out, but what was she going to say? 'Hey Sir, I'm just calling to let you know that I can't go fishing with you, because I don't trust myself not to jump you at the first available oportunity. Sorry about that.' Yeah, that'd fix things. Maybe if she just banged her head repeatedly on Janet's nice wooden desk until she passed out and had to spend the night in the infirmary... but then she'd have to go see MacKenzie, and she didn't think he'd accept her self-diagnosis, the 'I-want-him-so-bad-I-can-taste-it' disorder, as an explanation. "You could just go fishing?" Janet suggested in answer, really trying not to sound like a smart ass. "It's just fishing, Sam. Sure, it'll start some new rumors, but hell, last week they had you up on level 14 having your way with him in a storage closet, what's one more unconfirmed report?" Sam shook her head emphatically. "No, Janet, you don't understand. It's *not* just fishing, it never has been." The doctor looked confused. "It's about us. Alone. Together; in a lakeside cabin with no-one watching." "You don't trust yourself." "I don't trust *us*. If I go up there with him, we're not going fishing and we both know it." She laughed humorlessly. "Hell, the only reason he even asks is because he knows I'll say no." "Was he surprised?" Janet couldn't help but be curious about the conversation. "There's broken glass all over my workspace." "Oh." "Yeah." She stood to leave, and feeling somewhat better, gave her friend a small smile of thanks for the listening ear. "Hey Sam?" "Yeah?" She turned back, eyes raised in question. "When you guys get back? Just so you know... there really is a storage closet up on level 14 with a broken security camera." The doctor threw her hands up defensively at the look Sam gave her. "Hey, just trying to help!" *** Sam had no idea what to pack. It seemed that in the aftermath of her surprise acceptance, she'd forgotten to ask some pertinent questions. What was the weather like in Minnesota? Should she bring a sweater? Sun block? Hiking boots? How long would they be staying? Why had he asked her in the first place? What in the name of god had possessed her to say yes? Were they both losing their minds? 'Okay, stop,' Sam commanded herself, sitting heavily on the edge of her mattress and falling back onto the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, waiting for it to give her the answers, but all it would tell her was that this was without a doubt the stupidest thing she had ever done. And she already *knew* that. Stupid ceiling. She picked up the phone, and after much procrastination, dialled his number. "Hey Carter," he picked up on the third ring, and her eyes went wide in surprise. "Sir; how did you know it was me?" "Figured by now you'd either be calling for details on what to pack, or calling to let me know what new and exciting alien toy will be keeping you holed up in your lab all week. So which is it; you still coming or not?" She had to smile at his reasoning, even as her common sense repeatedly advised her on how best to answer his question: 'JustSayNoJustSayNoJust--' "Yep." Dammit. "Okay," he replied, sounding pleased, if a little surprised. "It's pretty warm up there this time of year, and don't forget your hiking boots. I thought we'd stay three days or so." Well, three days wasn't so bad. They were on downtime for seven, so it could have been worse. She could handle three days. Right? "Oh, and absolutely nothing work related," he went on. She cringed, giving a thought to the laptop on her living room coffee table and wondering if she should pack it anyway. "Okay Sir." "See you soon, Carter." They hung up, and she looked suspiciously at the phone for a second. He certainly sounded cheerful at the prospect of spending three days alone in a secluded cabin together, especially considering the astonished state he'd been in when last she'd seen him. That, she decided, was not a good sign. And this was most definitely the stupidest thing she'd ever done. *** He was driving her crazy. He wasn't doing any of the things he usually did just to get to her. He wasn't quoting the Simpsons. He wasn't singing Monty Python songs. He wasn't drumming his fingers annoyingly on the steering wheel while he drove. He was just sitting there, in his nicely-fitting jeans and adorably mussed-up hair, and being likeable. And that was driving her crazy. He looked over as she unbuckled her seatbelt and shrugged out of her jacket, and she looked resolutely out the window, refusing to meet his gaze. "Want me to turn up the A/C?" She shook her head, reaching again for the buckle and clipping it back into place. "It's fine Sir." She went back to staring out at the passing scenery, more to keep her eyes occupied and off of him than for the view. Her mind wandering, his small chuckle pulled her thoughts back to the present and she looked over at him. "What?" He shook his head, a grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Nothin'." She narrowed her eyes, curiosity getting the better of her. "No, what?" she repeated. "You're bored." "What? No I'm not." He grinned again. "Yes you are. You've got nothing to pull apart and analyse, no weird looking squiggle equations to figure out and no ancient alien devices to study. You're bored." "No," she said again, but trailed off as he gestured toward the back of the car. "Your laptop's in the backseat," he told her, and she practically dove for the equipment, ignoring his snort of laughter as she settled it happily in her lap. "You had this all along and you didn't tell me?!" She exclaimed as the computer booted up. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Wanted to see how long it'd take you to get bored." "I wasn't bored." "Whatever." *** When next she looked up from the screen, they were pulling into a gas station. Glad of the opportunity to stretch her legs, she opened the door and got out, leaning against the side of the car as a familiar-looking attendant jogged over to greet them. "Hey, Colonel O'Neill," the man exclaimed, beating Jack to the gas pump. Sam realised then where she'd seen him before. His picture, anyway. "Hi Vernon, how's things?" Jack grabbed a sponge from the bucket and began wiping at the front windscreen, motioning toward her with his head. "Vernon Sharpe, Sam Carter." "Hi." Vernon finished filling the tank and came over to shake her hand, at the same time leaning closer to the Colonel. "She's not..." he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "an alien, is she?" Sam's eyes widened and Jack bit back a grin. "No, Vernon, she's not an alien. She's a Major in the Air Force." "Oh, okay." He gave her a friendly smile, and Sam thought he almost looked disappointed at her human origins. He looked back to Jack. "You're not gonna shoot up my sign again are you? It's new." "Yeah, I noticed." The Colonel looked over at the huge, very brightly coloured sign advertising 'Full Service Gas'. "It looks... great." Vernon looked please. "The Air Force paid for it." Sam gave a glance to the tacky looking sign and bit back a grin. "Your tax dollars at work," the Colonel muttered wryly as he replaced the window washer and grabbed his wallet from the front seat. "Hey there are others, right?" she heard Vernon ask as they walked toward the store. "Other aliens I mean, besides the ones from Melmak?" ...Melmak? She decided not to ask. *** Jack unlocked the door to the cabin and she took in her surroundings with interest, the place looking so great that Sam wondered for a moment why she hadn't gone there earlier. Then he wandered back into her line of vision and she remembered. Damn but he looked good. And tempting. So very, very tempting. Hell, three days with the collective system lords would be less torturous than this. "Just dump your stuff anywhere for the moment," he told her, moving toward the back of the cabin. He flicked a wall switch in one of the back rooms and light flooded the small space, illuminating a double bed laden with miscellaneous objects that had obviously been thrown there to get them out of the way. "This room hardly ever gets used, so stuff just naturally seems to accumulate here," he explained unnecessarily. She nodded, setting her bag on the floor and moving to help him with the relocation of the numerous spare tackle boxes, reels of fishing line and even a box that seemed to contain nothing but broken flashlights. Again, she didn't ask. When it had all been stacked somewhat neatly in a hall cupboard, and she'd finally convinced her eyes to evacuate the prohibited area they'd been wandering around in, they left the cabin, Jack with two beers and a fishing rod already in hand. She declined the offer of a second rod, preferring instead to sit quietly on the dock, sip her beer, and look out over the lake. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. *** This was even worse than she'd thought it would be. She was sitting comfortably on a couch with her CO, drinking beer and talking animatedly about pretty much everything. What's more, she was enjoying herself. That was bad. That meant she was letting her guard down. And the fact that she was halfway drunk didn't really help. "So apparently," Jack was saying, "Thor just materialises in the middle of the room and completely does away with Kinsey's entire argument." He grinned. "Even passed on my suggestion to send him to some planet far, far away. What I wouldn't give to have been in that room. Hammond reckons he's never been more proud of the guy." Sam held back a laugh, trying at the same time to swallow her beer without choking. "I think he's been hanging around you too long," she teased. "Who, Hammond or Thor?" "Both," she grinned. "Remember what General Hammond was like when we first started at the SGC?" "Oh yeah." His face took on a stern look in imitation of the General's. "If you do not return within twenty-four hours..." he trailed off, watching in delight as she set her bottle on the coffee table and doubled over laughing at his almost perfect impression of Hammond. God he loved it when she laughed. She settled back against the cushions again, close enough that their shoulders were touching. He tried not to notice. "It seems like ages ago, now." "Yeah," he agreed. "It *was* ages ago." "We really had no idea what we were in for, did we?" "No, we didn't." He smirked. "Back then I thought *you* were gonna be harder to handle than the Goa'uld." She whacked him playfully on the shoulder. "C'mon, I wasn't *that* bad." "Oh," he shook his head in disagreement, "you were so. All that captain doctor arm wrestle crap." He grinned at the memory. Her own grin belied the indignant look she gave him. "You can talk. At least I didn't *push* you through the stargate." "Hey," he defended, "if I hadn't, you'd probably *still* be going on about... whatever it is you were going on about." She rolled her eyes in answer, draining her almost empty bottle of beer into her mouth as she stood. "I'm going to get some sleep." Time to go away and start putting those guards back up. "G'night, Carter." "'Night Sir." *** He was in the bathroom when she awoke the next morning. Not that she'd known that, when she was wandering in there, still half asleep and caught up in reliving the pleasant dream she'd been having. But there he'd been standing, dressed only in a towel, still wet from his shower. She'd left immediately, of course. If 'immediately' meant staring in slack-jawed surprise for a full five seconds at the tiny rivulets of water trailing down his torso to be caught by the towel wrapped tightly around his hips. Then she'd muttered an apology and left. Way to go, Sam. Now, she was busying herself with her search for caffeine and trying desperately to forget the image. Like she could. He chose that moment to appear in the kitchen, opening the one cupboard she hadn't tried yet and handing her the coffee. "Shower's all yours." "Thanks." She left the coffee on the counter and retreated into the bathroom, feeling somewhat better with the steaming water beating pleasurably over her back and shoulders, easing away the perpetual tension she always seemed to carry there. High stress jobs could do that to you. So could a high stress love life, for that matter; and she had both. She stayed under for a while, enjoying the rare opportunity to prolong the usual ten-minute shower she was used to. She had to admit, it was nice to get away from the base for a change. If not for the constant reminder of just how close they were to tearing up the rulebook, she might even be able to relax and enjoy herself. Sighing, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, forcefully strengthening her resolve as she reached for the clean towel Jack had considerately left out for her. She was going to maintain a professional distance or go insane trying. In all probability, it would be the latter. *** Sam was laughing again. Sitting out on the small dock, she'd just made something of a discovery, and while he hadn't yet confirmed it, the sheepish yet defensive look he wore on his face told her she was right. There were no fish in this lake. "You don't need fish to go fishing, Carter," he defended, grimacing as he realised how ridiculous it sounded when he put it like that. "Look," he tried again, "fishing is relaxing. But actually *catching* fish? Highly overrated. You've got to clean them and scale them and there's the whole matter of disgusting fish guts to consider... will you *please* stop laughing at me?" He finally melted into a grin. "You were special ops trained and you're afraid of a little fish guts?!" "No, I would just prefer not to... oh shut up." He narrowed his eyes in mock annoyance, causing her to laugh harder. "Jack, you really need to--" she didn't finish the sentence, her face going blank as the unfamiliar word registered. Jack. They stared at each other, surprised. Though, his expression said 'pleased-surprised', while hers was more of an 'oh my god what did I just do?' kind of shock. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Um..." she shook her head slightly, breaking out of her reverie and standing, ignoring the tension suddenly weighing heavily in the air. "You want another beer?" "Sure. *Sam*." She should have known he wouldn't just let it go. Nevertheless, she ignored him, heading for the relative safety of the cabin, and though she could sense his eyes on her she missed the small smirk pulling up the corners of his mouth as he watched her retreating form. A few minutes passed before she returned, a paperback and two cold beers in hand, and handed him a bottle. "Here you go Sir." "Thanks. What happened to 'Jack'?" She frowned, a note of warning creeping into her voice. "Sir..." She sat down at the end of the dock, her feet dangling over the water, and threw him a pointed look. "We're off duty, Carter, and in the middle of nowhere to boot. What damage is using my name possibly going to cause?" She gave him a look over her shouldter that plainly said 'you know exactly what damage it would cause' and opened her book. *** It had only been a matter of time, really. She'd known it would come, sooner or later. The inevitable situation where they'd have to address the underlying tension. It's presence was too conspicuous now to ignore. They'd tried, they really had, but the simple fact was, an enormous pink elephant swimming around in the lake would have been less noticeable. So, she'd expected it. She just hadn't expected it to come about over something as mundane as this. After all the hard work they'd put in to not acknowledging the palpable tension between them, their undoing had been the handiwork of a half full bottle of beer. It almost seemed like fate, really. In an uncharacteristic moment of clumsiness, the drink had simply slipped from his fingers. Jumping out of the way of the flying liquid, she'd dropped her book, and lunging for it in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent it falling into the lake, had only just been saved from an unexpected swim herself by his hand grabbing the back of her shirt and yanking her back up onto the dock. So in a matter of seconds he was lying on his back in a puddle of spilt beer, her book was lying forgotten on the surface of the water, and she was lying quite comfortably on him. And, despite her best efforts, finding the situation not altogether unpleasant. This, to anyone else, would not have been too much of a problem. It might even have been funny, had it not been Jack O'Neill she'd suddenly found herself draped all over. But it was, and suddenly the way he was looking at her was very *un*funny. In all fairness, his reaction to their sudden proximity may have had something to do with the fact that she had yet to move off him. She was planning to, really. But with his arms around her, it just wasn't easy. That was her excuse and she was sticking to it. She just wished he'd stop looking at her like his self control could snap at any moment. Oh boy. She had to leave. Now. As in right now... why the hell couldn't she get her legs to move? This was very, very bad. "I... um..." Oh great, now her ability to speak had gone too. She was in the middle of a very dangerous situation and her body had chosen now to stage a mutiny against her. Close proximity never had been something they dealt with easily. In fact, it was the third most common reason for potential reg-breaking, after alien influence and near death situations. And something told her that the reg-breaking was gonna go *way* past potential and straight into definite, if she didn't leave. Like, now. If only she could actually move. He lifted a hesitant hand to her face, his palm pressing into the soft flesh of her cheek, and she found herself leaning into his touch. This was apparently enough of an encouragement, because his mouth was already beginning a gradual advance towards her own, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he kissed her. Once that happened, she'd be lost for good. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and scrambling to her feet, she fled. *** She'd been in her room close to three hours when he finally knocked on her door. He could hear the rapid tapping of her keyboard and knew she was working-- no surprise there-- but he also knew that she had to be hungry. It took her a moment to open the door, and when she did it was with a brief glance and a professional "Yes, Sir?" He held up her sandwich as though it were a peace offering. "Brought you some lunch." "Thankyou." She accepted the plate with a perfunctory nod and closed the door. He knocked again. She opened it with a barely audible sigh of annoyance. "Sir?" "Talk to me." She turned, going back to her computer. "There's nothing to say." "Cut the crap, Carter, talk to me." "And say what, Sir? We both know the score, and nothing we say is gonna change it, no matter *how* much I--" she turned away from him. "Carter? No matter how much you what?" She rounded on him, visibly annoyed now. "What do you want? You want me to tell you I wanted it as much as you did; is that it?! Fine. I did. I do. It doesn't change anything. Now, please." She opened the door wider, waiting for him to leave. He surprised her instead with a sound kiss that she didn't have the heart to fight off. Finally pulling his mouth from hers, he looked around the room for a moment before his gaze came to rest back on her. "Well, the world isn't coming to an end yet." He leaned out into the hallway, as though listening intently. "And hey, no one breaking down the door demanding court martial, either." With that, he left. *** Sam rubbed her eyes, trying to ease the headache that had set in from staring at the computer screen all day. She looked at her watch. 23:47; it had to be safe to leave the room now. She crept quietly through the darkened cabin to the front door, stepping out into the warm night air and closing the door softly behind her. She really needed to clear her head. The idea of saying to hell with the regs and succumbing to the inevitable was actually starting to make some sense, a sure sign that she was losing it. So of course, he *would* choose the exact moment when her resolve was at its all time weakest to appear before her, looking somewhat hesitant. Not to mention downright irresistable. And at that moment, she had the sudden realization that their being together did make a strange kind of sense. It certainly wasn't as if they were likely to find anybody else any time soon. Or, if she was completely honest with herself, any time ever. As much as she hated to admit it, these days she really only had one requirement of the men she dated, but it was one that was a little hard for most people to live up to-- they had to be Jack O'Neill. No wonder she hadn't had a date in more years than she cared to admit. Her mind suddenly and unexpectedly made up, she gave him an inviting smile, discovering with surprise that she didn't feel the least bit guilty about what they were about to do. Because god knew it was about time they did something for them. Reading her expression, he grinned back, and his arms slipped loosely around her waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns in the small of her back. "You sure?" "Yep." The hands at her waist gave a playful tug, pulling her more firmly against him, and her arms lifted of their own accord, her fingers threading through his hair and holding him to her while he kissed her deeply. She whimpered softly, aware of nothing but the taste and texture of his mouth and how good his arms felt around her. Her whole existence suddenly seemed dependent on keeping him exactly where he was, and for the first time in her adult life, Sam Carter forgot to think about anything else. *** His tongue snaked out to duel with her own and their gentle exploration quickly turned heated, her arms unwinding themselves from his neck so she could slide her hands down his torso, tugging eagerly at the shirt he wore until it was nothing more than a forgotten memory at their feet. They sank to the ground, lips still locked together, and she savoured the sensation of his weight above her, pressing her into the soft grass and suffusing every inch of her with heat. The need for oxygen finally forcing them apart, he looked down at her, flushed and panting, and suddenly breathing just didn't seem as important as kissing her, so he returned his mouth to hers and was rewarded with an encouraging moan for his efforts. A wave of awareness washed over her as his hands slid under her shirt to glide along the smooth skin of her stomach; her entire body tingled as it became acutely aware of his touch. She arched under him and he groaned into her mouth, his fingers clenching at her sides at the delicious sensation of her softness pressing up against him. Finally forcing his mouth from hers, his lips trailed a fiery path down her neck, pausing in their journey only long enough for him to pull her shirt from her in one smooth motion. He kissed the hollow of her throat and continued down toward her cleavage, his fingers toying with the lacy cups of her bra before divesting her of that too. She shivered when his tongue darted out to toy with a nipple, his efficient hands already working now at the fastenings of her jeans. He kissed the soft skin at the underside of her breast before finally acquiescing to her restless movements and taking it in his mouth, delighting in the pleasured gasp the action drew from her. She arched her hips up to meet his and was rewarded with a tortured groan of approval, one of his hands working its way to her lower back so he could repeat the action, pulling her tightly against his hardness again. Both gasping at the exquisite contact, his lips came crashing back to hers, the kiss matching the frantic pace of their fingers as they pulled impatiently at the last vestiges of their clothing. *** Somehow he seemed to be everywhere at once, his mouth plundering hers in an explosive kiss, his hair-roughened chest grazing her sensitised nipples, his fingers doing some seriously amazing things at the apex of her thighs. For someone who could barely keep his focus in a forty-minute mission briefing, this man was one incredible multi-tasker. She groaned, on sensory overload as the build-up started low in her belly, and she tore her mouth from his, her fingers raking over the sweat-slicked skin of his back. "Oh God. Jack, please." She whimpered at the removal of his fingers, but was inordinately glad of the loss when she felt him, hard and hot, straining against the inside of her thigh. She guided him into her, both of them crying out at the delicious sensation of him finally burying himself inside her. Her legs and arms wrapped around him and she held him still for a moment, her body adjusting to the new feeling of him filling her so completely. He rocked against her slowly and she easily matched his rhythm, moaning low in her throat, her breath coming out in short gasps of air against his neck. The tempo increased quickly, and it wasn't long before she felt herself nearing the edge, longing for the release the freefall would award her when she finally went over. "Sam," he forced out through gritted teeth, every bit as breathless as she was. "This isn't... gonna last... much..." "Shhh," she instructed, and taking his head in both hands, her mouth possessed his again, kissing him over and over as she splintered explosively in his arms, dragging him with her into oblivion. His guttural groan matched hers and they strained and shuddered against each other, clinging tightly together while the release of years of tension washed over them. *** "Wow." He moved, rolling onto his back beside her. Sam grinned at what had to be the understatement of the century, staring in rapture up at the night sky and wondering if there was ever a night so perfect as this one. He looked over at her, her silence concerning him, and she reached out to grasp his hand. "Brain not functioning," she explained her lack of verbal acknowledgment, "please don't ask me to speak." He laughed, kissing her lightly. "So *this* is what it takes to shut you up?!" She narrowed her eyes in mock reproach. "Colonel, with all due respect, bite me." "Okay." She quickly sat up out of his reach, trying unsuccessfully to brush away the grass still clinging to her sweaty skin. "You know, we really should have considered taking this indoors." "Nah, this is more fun. C'mon." He grasped her hand tighter and pulled her to her feet. They were halfway to the lake before she realised where they were going. "Oh no. No way. I am *not* going in there. Not when there's a nice hot shower inside with nothing swimming in it." "I thought we already established that there were no fish in here," he argued, still pulling her along behind him. "Besides, I already took all the hot water." It was cool, but not as cold as she'd expected, and the water felt nice against her skin as they swam out into the middle of the lake. "Well," she said, draping her arms loosely around his neck, "this is certainly nicer than the last time we went swimming." His arms trailed pleasantly up and down her sides under the water and she shivered. "Yeah," he agreed, "I do like it a lot better when we're not about to drown." She nuzzled his neck, grinning at the picture they must have made; the two of them swimming naked in a lake by the cabin she'd vowed she'd never come to-- or at least not until after he was retired. In any case, skinny dipping was certainly one activity she hadn't planned on this weekend. "So," she grinned, "do you do this often?" "What? Sleep with beautiful women on my front lawn?" She laughed. "Not exactly what I meant, Jack, but now that you mention it... and wow that sounded weird." Hearing his name from her lips still sounded strange to her ears. "It does sound kind of odd, doesn't it?" His arms tightened at her waist. "I could definitely get used to it, though." "Yeah," she agreed, capturing his lips in a kiss, "me too." *** End! My inbox is starving; send it some feedback? |