Title: BrigaDOH!

Email: [email protected], Back evil leprechauns! With feedback, we can fight them!

Author's Notes: Full disclaimer in Part 1. In Part 5, what can I say? Schmoop. Smut. Comedy.

Part 5/6

Sam was sitting on the wall facing away from the village, half the contents of her pack lying either in her lap or scattered on either side of her. The full moon was just rising over the trees, its pale light tumbling through the canopy to scatter columns of light bright as midday among the pockets of darkness. Sam shoved her pack to the ground, with a frustrated sigh. Tilting her chin upward, leaning back on her elbows to study the night sky.

Jack had broken into a run the minute he'd been confident that the cottages were between him and anyone's line of sight from the village. He pulled up to a stop about 5 yards behind her, suddenly wondering what the hell he was doing.

Her face was pale in the moonlight, the usual warm, inviting flush of her cheeks bleached to icy marble.

Goddess in BDUs, Jack thought, swallowing a hysterical laugh. No boobs required. Well some. I think. Not that I've looked. Oh boy.

His borrowed courage failed him. He turned back toward the village.

"Leaving so soon, sir?" She said just loudly enough for him to hear.

He whipped around to face her. She was still staring up at the sky.

"Hey, how'd you . . ."

"You're loud. Which means you've been drinking." He could hear the smirk.

"Some," he admitted.

"Is that why you're here?"

"No," he said quickly, definitely.

"You asked him about Grace." Her voice was almost inaudible now.

"He told me that you did," Jack answered warily, taking a step or two closer. "First kid through the Stargate. Not too shabby."

"I saw her."

"You saw her? Um . . . have you been drinking, Carter?"

"No. On the Prometheus," Sam replied.

"Oh. Huh?"

She turned to him at last, "It's not important. I'm stalling. Sorry."

"No, no. I'm bugging you. I'll just . . ." he started backing up, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Jack."

Jack? Ooh, dirty pool, he thought.

"Sam?"

"Why are you here?" She was pleading with him for something, although her tone remained carefully neutral.

When in doubt, Jack always told the truth.

"Sid said you were waiting for me."

"Ah," She looked away, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she always did when she was aggravated with him.

Most of the time, the truth was the worst possible strategy.

"I wanted you to be waiting for me," he closed the distance to the wall and vaulted over it, shoving more of her equipment to the ground and settling himself next to her.

"Better answer," She said smiling into the distance.

Unless it was the whole truth, of course.

"What's she look like?" He asked after a minute or two of companionable silence.

Sam thought about it for a moment, "Cute. Bright. Kind of impossible."

"Ah, her mother's daughter," Jack tried to keep his voice light.

"Other than the impossible part," Sam said with a chuckle.

"What do we do with this now, Sam?" He asked staring down at his boots.

"I don't think we have to do anything with it. I'm guessing that whatever Sid does to get us back, we won't remember any of this. It's the only way there can be no chance of us affecting our own timeline."

"Consequence free," Jack said with a bitter laugh.

"Is that why you're here?" She turned on him, suddenly furious.

"What?" He pulled back in alarm.

"No regs? No consequences? No actually having to deal with any messy emotions or . . ." She pushed herself off the wall stalking into darkness.

Jack's feet hit the ground with a thud. He reached for her shoulders and spun her around, pulling her to within inches of him. "No consequences? Carter, are you nuts?"

"Wouldn't be the first," She snapped. "The time loop? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He flinched, releasing her shoulders. "Fine, you caught me. One kiss. I resigned for one single kiss."

"You resigned?" She stared blankly at him.

"Oh yeah, typed, signed, dotted line and all."

She burst out laughing. "You. Resigned?"

"Yes, I resigned. So glad to amuse. Goodnight, Carter." He turned and began feeling along the wall for the gate.

"Jack!" She gasped, trying to recover her breath. "Wait, I'm sorry! You resigned? For a kiss?"

"Had to. Never knew when the damned loop was gonna spit us out." He slumped against the wall.

"But what if it was terrible. What if . . . you kissed me . . . and that was it?"

"Never happen."

"But how can you . . ."

"I'm not a kid, Sam. Been married. Had a kid. Lost him. Been divorced . . .and that's the PG version," He looked up to see her staring intently at him, "which is all you're getting for now. I know what I want."

"Oh."

"The only reason," He took her hand as she stepped within reach, smiling as he realized she still had the clover tucked behind one ear, "the only reason I think maybe I shouldn't be here is no consequences."

"Why?" She asked frowning, "I mean I know we won't remember . . . probably won't remember. But I think . . . it's silly, but I feel like it would be easier to wait . . ."

And suddenly, she was kissing him. He stooped to meet her, easing her back off her tiptoes as he slid his arms around her waist. She locked her hands behind his neck, holding him to her as if he would try to break away the minute she relented.

"Sam," He wrenched his mouth from hers, his hands moving up to either side of her face as he pressed his forehead to hers, panting, "Sam . . ."

"No, Jack, I don't want to think about this. Please." She slid her hands from behind his head, running them over his chest and stomach as she raised pleading eyes to his.

"Sam," He pressed his lips to each of her cheeks, and her mouth, "Sam, listen. I just wanna know if you . . . please god . . . have your bedroll here anywhere."

She threw back her head and laughed, releasing him from her grasp as she bent to rifle through the clutter at their feet.

He caught her arm, holding her fast until she looked up at him with a puzzled expression, "And also if you're sure . . ."

"Tricky!" She smiled.

"Black ops." He shrugged with mock modesty.

"I'm sure."

"Me too."

If he hadn't been, the smile she gave him---full of familiar affection sharpened by something altogether darker----would have obliterated any remaining objections. He nudged her aside, snatching the bedroll from her hands. He whisked it open, laying it flat with a snap.

He leaned down to kiss her again, clumsily maneuvering her through the tangle of equipment back toward the wall. If she just happened hit it with an indelicate "Oof!" it was really no one's fault but her own for doing such incredible things with her tongue. Chuckling against her neck, Jack set his hands on her waist, lifting her slightly until she could scoot backward, to seat herself more securely on the wall.

He knelt in front of her and began unlacing her boots, the knots seeming to become more and more complex as she dragged her fingers through his hair and along his jaw line. He ducked to the left, as one finger dipped trace its way along his ear, trapping her hand between his head and shoulder.

"Carter!" He barked, trying to look commanding from what was, objectively, a fairly ridiculous position. "Do you want me to undress you or not?"

"Well who could resist an offer like that," she laughed.

"I'll take that as a no?"

"No," she smiled sweetly, "I just want you to do it faster."

With something akin to a whimper, he returned his attention to the laces, tugging furiously. She nudged him away with one toe. "Let me," she said, pulling her knee to her chest.

"Control freak," he murmured, as he plopped down next to her, his tongue memorizing the curve of her ear lobe.

"No, I . . . hi hi hi hi hiiiii . .. I just . . . don't have your problems with focus," she breathed with a shiver.

Where he found the agility to clamber to his knees behind her on the wall, she'd never know, but in a flash, he was tugging her jacket down her arms as he nipped the back of her neck, never giving her time to anticipate where he'd attack next. One boot hit the ground with a thunk and he seized the opportunity to pull her elbows back, sliding her arms out of her field jacket and tossing it aside.

Unsurprisingly, the second boot went much more slowly, given the newly exposed expanses of bare flesh he had to work with. She'd been on the verge of surrendering entirely and begging for help when a well-timed taunt whispered low in her ear reignited her determination. The second boot clattered to the ground, warning him to brace for her counter-attack. To his surprise, she simply leaned back into him, arching closer to his hands as they ran up her sides.

With considerably more effort and care than his previous daring move, he shifted to straighten out one leg, then the other, settling them on either side of Sam's hips. His hands crept into the waistband of her pants, tugging the hem of her shirt free. She hissed her approval as fingers skimmed across her belly. Crossing his wrists over her abdomen, he grabbed a fistful of cloth in each hand, slowly pulling her t-shirt upward. His fingertips just grazed her skin, raising goosebumps as he went. He hesitated just below her shoulders as if needing a minute to convince his mouth to part with her neck.
With a final nibble, he coaxed her arms up, pulling the t-shirt over her head.

Jack reached up for her hands, twining his fingers through hers and bringing their arms down to wrap tightly around her. He nuzzled her bare shoulder, fascinated by the contrast between the textures of their skin and more so by the ripples it seemed to be sending through her.

"Cold?" He asked, settling her more closely against his chest and pulling his jacket around her shoulders as best he could.

"Hmmm . . .?" She tilted her head back lazily. He suddenly had a clear line of sight to her. She wore a simple, black sports bra. He saw similar items all the time at the gym and when out running----those things whose purpose was to squash and flatten, rendering the wearer virtually sexless. This one was different. This one was clearly the result of advanced alien technology. It had a zipper.

"Uh . . ." he mumbled, his hand creeping up from her belly toward the pull. "Something about the . . . Sam?"

"Jack?" She kissed the underside of his chin with a laugh.

"Have you been seeing evil aliens without me?"

"Hmmm . . . ?" She worked her way back along his jaw line, waiting for her moment to attack his ear again.

"This . . . this is," His fingers reached their prize and tugged gently, whimpering as the fabric parted, revealing a millimeter or two of cleavage. He cleared his throat, purposefully averting his eyes, "Let's just say we shouldn't let these fall into Goa'uld hands."

"Sports bras?" She frowned against his neck.

"Well, they'll need a snappier name. Something with apostrophes. We'll get Teal'c on it."

In one fluid motion Sam turned halfway around, one arm snaking behind his head to hold it firmly as her lips closed over his earlobe. She laughed as he squirmed in her hold, trying to escape her relentless tongue.

"Carter! That tickles!" He panted.

"Does not." She murmured. Her other hand roamed up his thighs. Centering on his belt buckle as her landmark, her fingers dove beneath his waistband, yanking his shirt free. She raked her nails along the skin just above his pants, enjoying the twitch of his stomach muscles under her touch. She nipped the skin behind his ear once before sliding out of his grasp.

"Hey! Where ya . . . erm . . ." His question trailed off as she ducked her head to plant a kiss on his stomach. Dodging the hands that reached for her, she made short work of the laces of his boots, tossing them to join her own.

"Down," She commanded, tugging him forward by his belt buckle.

He braced himself with one arm, obediently sliding from the wall to the ground. She gave another tug and he followed helplessly in her wake to the bedroll. She batted his hands away as he reached for her, walking around behind him to slide his field jacket off, then taking an unconscionable amount of time sliding his t-shirt up and over his head.

Jack craned his head around looking for her, winning him a cuff to the side of the head followed by twin sets of fingernails skimming down either side of his spine before he could complain. Her hands ran possessively over skin as she circled around in front of him again. Rising unnecessarily on tiptoe, she pressed her body along the length of his and kissed him. Not giving him a chance to regain his equilibrium, she stepped back and sank to the bedroll, flipping the top back invitingly as she lay on her side, head propped on one hand.

Jack dropped to the ground beside her. Rolling her swiftly to her back, he braced himself over her, one arm on either side of her shoulders. A protest died in the back of her throat as his tongue and teeth traveled furiously over her neck and shoulders, the stubble on his chin rasping over the tops of her breasts. Hooking one foot behind her calf, he pulled their bodies side by side, his hand instinctively making its way to the tantalizing zipper and yanking it downward. Impatiently shoving the fabric away, his hand closed possessively over one breast as he shimmied downward to take the other in his mouth.

Her fists closed around handfuls of his hair, clutching his head closer to her. Jack smiled against her skin, enjoying the helpless, incoherent sounds she made as he varied the pressure of his hand and mouth on her breasts. Running the flat of his tongue roughly over her nipple one last time, he moved to press his mouth to the valley between her breasts. He bit lightly on the side of one breast, then pulled back to admire the tiny marks that blossomed against her fair skin.

Sam took advantage of the momentary lull to flip him on to his back, clambering over him to plant one knee on either side of his hips. His eyes widened, a strangled gasp coming from his throat as she deliberately ground against him.

"The ground's cold," she said with an innocent shrug as her hands went to work on his belt buckle and fly.

"Is it?" He smiled, deftly reciprocating with one hand. "I think you're just a top, Carter."

"Given this a lot of thought, have you?" She arched an eyebrow as her hand made its way inside his pants.

"You have . . ." Jack stilled as her hand closed around him outside his boxers, "no idea."

"Maybe some," she said grabbing the waistband of his pants and dragging them and his boxers along as she moved down toward his feet.

"Really?" His head popped up to examine her face. "You've thought about this?"

"No. I went from never giving you a second look to half naked in the last 10 minutes." Sam's heart fluttered painfully as the pleased expression melted from his face. "Jack, don't be an idiot. Of course I've thought about this."

"You know, you didn't call me so many names when I thought about this," He said resting his head back on the ground, a sweet smile spreading over his face.

"Well, when I thought about this, you didn't talk so much," she said working his pants free of his feet and tossing them aside, quickly shedding her own plus underwear a moment later. Dropping to hands and knees, she crawled back up the length of his body and propped her chin on her hands, an elbow planted on either side of his head.

"I'm nervous," he said, avoiding her eyes. "I babble."

"Nervous?" She kissed him, "I'm a safe bet."

"Sweet," He wrapped his arms around her back, easing her weight on to him. He groped for the top of the sleeping bag with one hand, spreading it over her back as she squirmed pleasantly against him. Bracing herself on one hand, she pushed herself up a bit, dragging her knees upward and straddling his hips.

At the same moment, they reached down between them, their hands bumping together awkwardly. They drew back simultaneously, reaching forward again in unison, resulting in another clash.

"Thumb wrestle?" Jack whispered against her lips.

"Better idea," She chuckled, moving his hand up to her breast.

"Mmmm . . You get to be the top from now on."

"Thought you'd see it my way," Steadying his erection underneath her with one hand hand, she lifted her hips slightly the head sliding easily between her already wet lips and forward. She moaned, jerking slightly as her clit ground against him.

Jack fought to keep his hips still, wanting to let her set the pace. He willed his thoughts above the waist, concentrating on her breasts. His teeth scraped lightly over one nipple while his fingers played over the other, enjoying the way the contours shifted as the skin puckered under his touch.

She settled into a rhythm, her hips circling slowly, stroking the head of his penis against herself, lingering longer and longer each time with it just pressed against her opening. Abruptly, she pushed down, sliding him halfway inside her and drawing his attention forcibly back to his groin. His teeth closed over her skin harder than he'd intended, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

He pulled his head back quickly, eyes wide, "Sam, I'm . . ." the rest of his apology was lost amid a rush of incoherent gabbling as she crushed her mouth, breasts, and hips to his. She rocked furiously against him, coaxing him deeper with each movement. His vision flashed brilliant white behind his eyelids.

Somewhere in his mind where coherent thoughts cowered away from the sounds she was making against his ear (God! The sounds!), he knew he was on the verge of bringing their first time a woefully premature end. Just when he felt completely powerless to stop it, some kind Angel tucked an image of the ridiculous green statue through his mind. This proved to be a more effective orgasm dodge than dead nuns, dead puppies, and his mother combined.

Something much closer to a giggle than he cared to contemplate broke from his lips as he grasped her hips firmly, slowing them. She pulled back slightly, an outraged pout on her lips. He leaned up, catching her lower lip between his teeth briefly before gently urging her into a sitting position, arranging the sleeping bag carefully over her bare shoulders. He arched his hips up, shifting her slightly backward to make room for his hand between them.

She held her breath as his finger traced an agonizingly slow path from her belly button, down to her clit, expelling it in a long moan as the tip of one finger just barely grazed it. Leaning back, she braced her palms on his thighs, arching closer to his touch. Jack closed his eyes, hardly able to bear the sight of her, pale, naked, and beautiful above him. Breathing deeply he settled two fingertips against her and began moving in slow, lazy circles.

He opened his eyes again, pleased to find hers shut tight. He stared up at her shamelessly, fascinated by the silent working of her jaw muscles as she, too, struggled for control. A wicked impulse seized him and he grabbed for her hip with one hand, thrusting upward hard. Her eyes flew open in surprise, the blanket falling from her shoulders with the sudden movement. The fingers of one hand dug into his thighs as she instinctively ground against him. The other hand lashed out to grab his wrist, pressing his fingers harder into her clit.

He obliged her silent demand, increasing the pace and pressure of his movements,. Her head dropped back, her mouth slightly open in a futile attempt to catch her breath. Muscles rippled under the smooth skin of her stomach as the rise and fall of her hips reached a frantic pace.

Sensation collapsed in on itself gathering and gathering until nothing existed save his hands on her. Something near pain cut through her for a moment as he pressed just that much harder, her movements bringing him that much deeper inside her. With a cry, she bucked forward, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as every nerve unspooled.

Jack had been watching her intently, enjoying the hell out of watching her fall to pieces. She so consumed his attention, he was utterly unprepared for the sudden shock of her nails digging into his skin. A single whimper in his ear as she slumped forward on to his chest, and he was gone, hips surging madly upward as he came.

They lay together, weary and shivering. He reached blindly for the sleeping bag, breathing a sigh of relief as his fingers found it. She pressed a grateful kiss to his jaw as he yanked it upward, gently smoothing it over her back.

"Sam?" He said faintly after a while.

"Hmm?" She could barely force the syllable out.

"If I fall asleep, how hard are you going to hit me?"

She gave a sleepy chuckle as she shifted halfway off him, one leg thrown across his, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. "I'll let you know after my nap."


Continue on to Part 6, the big finale