Pairing: Sam/Paul
Rating: PG-13
Codes: C/P. Davis, others
Category: Het/Romance
Summary: Things move at a feverish pace for Paul and Sam.

It was Friday the 13th of February. All over Cheyenne Mountain, the duty of keeping the Earth safe from alien invasion was being compromised; Janet Fraiser told General Hammond this in emphatically strong tones.

“—Right NOW, General—for at least three days, which is the standard incubation period for an infection like this. I’m fairly sure the outbreak is confined to SG18 and the personnel who’ve come into close contact with them, but I refuse to take any chances with further contagion beyond the base.”

“Agreed, Doctor—“ Moving swiftly Hammond hit the button on his desk and sirens went off all over every level of Cheyenne Mountain complex.

Joanna looked up glumly from her infirmary bed, away from the hand mirror in her grasp. In the bed next to hers, Lieutenant MacTavish gave a sigh and rubbed his chin.

“I guess it’s official. Man, we are NEVER going to live this down, Colonel.”

“Could be worse—“ Joanna snapped back. “We could have brought back something a LOT worse, like bubonic plague or necrosis.”

“Yeah I suppose,” MacTavish agreed, waggling his chin, “But nobody’s going to be thrilled to get a case of what did the natives call it? Tiktak?”

“Tikmati fever,” Joanna corrected glumly as she raised her hand and looked at the spots covering it. The small dots of green, blue and red swirled under her skin like busy ants.

*** *** ***

Jack O’Neill stared across the briefing room table and tried not to laugh. Daniel glared back at him, blue eyes earnest behind his glasses, the maze of tiny multicolored spots shifting across his face in a mural of interesting patterns. At the head of the table, Hammond himself had spots as well, although his tended to move in slow shifts of color groups, reds together, greens together. His expression between the designs was stern.

“—The inhabitants of PX4-0877 have assured us that the infection isn’t any more dangerous than the average case of chicken pox. So far the virus is fairly similar to variecela, and while a few of our current cases are running a mild fever, most of them are not.” Fraiser wound down. O’Neill shot her an amused look.

“So Doc—how many cases have you SPOTTED?”

“Colonel—“ came a warning rumble from Hammond, dampening the humor somewhat. Fraiser looked around at the group. Already small dots of green were starting to form at her temples.

“Out of the two hundred and seventeen people currently under quarantine in the Mountain, over one hundred and thirty four have Tikmati fever. At the rate of infection, I expect all of us will have it by mid morning of the fifteenth.”

“ALL of us?” Aghast Rose demanded. Currently she and Carter were clear—still in the pink as it were. Fraiser nodded.

“The medical info the Off-world doctors have sent is tremendously helpful—Tikmati fever has no record of fatality and an amazingly accelerated life cycle for a virus. Assuming that the infectious period lasts for only three hours or so, the quarantine would be lifted by Monday night at the latest.”

“Fun, fun—“ O’Neill muttered softly, shooting an apologetic look at Rose and mentally kissing away their Valentine dinner reservations at Playa Del Sol.

“Our bigger problem is setting up enough cots and sleeping quarters for our personnel---we’ve still got a few teams off-world so they’ll gate to the Alpha site, but as for the rest of us---“

“Oh it will be fun—a big happy sleepover of sorts—“ O’Neill tossed out insouciantly. Hammond turned a gimlet eye on his second in command.

“And given your enthusiasm for the situation, Colonel, I’d be happy to put you in charge of accommodating everyone.”

This was enough to take the smirk of O’Neill’ face. Teal’c entered, his hands behind his back, his expression calm. He was covered in small spots of red and yellow.

“Doctor Fraiser, your presence is requested in the infirmary. Several visitors from the front gate need to be examined.”

*** *** ***

Carter glanced down at her fingers and sighed. No dots yet, but it was a matter of hours. Fraiser had set policy that infected persons called in at the first spot sited. The infirmary would note the time, call you in for a fever reducer if you wanted one, and let you go again. The epidemic of Tikmati was staggered, and most people were taking it in stride, well aware that the quarantine would be over by Monday night at the latest.

“Major Carter, it’s good to see you—“ came a familiar voice. At the sound of it she looked up quickly, her cheeks flushing as she smiled. Standing in the doorway in a dark blue flight suit, cap in hand, Paul Davis sent a meaningful glance up at the security camera in the corner, and then walked over to Sam to receive a light hug. The camera didn’t catch her quick press of lips to his cheek, or his answering peck back. They lingered in letting go.

“Major, I didn’t realize you were here—“ she told him, adding in a soft whisper, “—and I’m really glad you are.”

“Captain Breslin and I came in from Travis this morning and I could sure use some breakfast,” Paul added formally, “If you could stand taking a break for a while—“

“No problem,” Carter smiled. They stepped into the corridor and headed down to the elevator in stride, chatting about the quarantine as they passed various personnel in various stages of spots; Sergeant Siler resembled a multi-colored Dalmatian.

As they rounded the corner for the elevator doors, Carter reached for the collar of Paul’s flight suit and tugged; he followed her into the recessed electrical conduit alcove where they huddled, close and warm in the semi-darkness. Sam hovered uncertainly, but Paul slid his hands around her shoulders and pulled her close in a very easy way. She nuzzled his cheek, enjoying the scent of his aftershave, his clean skin.

“Miss me?” he asked in a low voice. Sam smiled against his cheekbone, her voice low and earnest.

“More than I realized I did—wow—” she gurgled, pressing against him as Paul laughed softly.

“This is nice. I could get USED to this—“

“So could I,” Sam confessed with an honest sigh. She clung to him a moment longer, savoring the body contact. Paul gave a little groan.

“Damn it, this quarantine puts my plan to take you out to dinner on hold.”

“We still have the cafeteria—“ Sam offered with a wry smile, “—surrounded by a hundred or so spotty people—“

“Completely worth it—“ he murmured, giving her a light kiss on the nose as pulled her out of the alcove. Sam shot a guilty look at the camera high on the wall, but Paul ignored it and hit the elevator button.

“I guess in a way the captain and I got lucky, slipping in under the lockdown—if I have to be trapped for seventy two hours in close quarters, let it be—“

“—Here?” Carter asked over her shoulder as she stepped into the elevator. Paul followed, waiting to answer as the doors closed again.

“—With you,” he corrected.

*** *** ***

Joanna grinned at Teal’c, pleased to see him slightly discomfited at the sight of the meandering spots moving across the continent of his bare chest. She looked down at her arms to her own discolorations, which were starting to fade into pastel versions of their earlier vibrant colors.

“Come on Teal’c, didn’t you ever wonder what it was like to have freckles?”

“No.”

“Not even once?”

“Erratic pigmentation was irrelevant in the overall duties of a First Prime—“ he began patiently, until he caught a glimpse of Joanna suppressing her giggles. She lightly pushed him back against the only wall without kelnorim candles, her long elegant hands splaying over each broad bare pectoral with possessive delight. The yellow and red dots were clustering around the heat of her fingers.

“They’re glowing a little—does it hurt?”

“Not at all—“ Teal’c rumbled, glancing down. He intended to examine his chest, but found his attention firmly on hers instead, dwelling on the lacy black edge of her bra just visible under the red cut off tank top Joanna lounged in. He drew in a breath. Joanna laughed out loud this time, a sound of delighted amusement.

“Big Man, I really REALLY want to play connect the dots---“ she sighed, her carmine lips dropping a slick kiss between her thumb and index finger on his chest.

Teal’c smiled, and reached for the light switch.

*** *** ***

“Jack, we’ve got several bunks set up, a rotation for the showers, and the laundry’s promised us a change of BDUs for everyone, so we’re set in that department—“ Rose muttered, looking over the printouts on her desk. O’Neill was leaning over her shoulder, ostensibly to check the details, but in reality simply to nuzzle her neck. She squirmed a little, and he laughed.

“When did you call in?”

“An hour ago—not that it was easy to spot with so many spots already—“ she grumbled. O’Neill licked her neck, making her shiver.

“I already LOVED your freckles, Dinky Doll—a few more in primary colors are like extra confetti to me—“

Rose snorted. She was well aware that the camera was inactive and that O’Neill was using this opportunity to make good on his Valentine’s night intentions, which he had thoughtfully listed in full and lascivious detail in the card now tucked in the bottom of her purse. With a squirm, she managed to roll her chair away from him and shake her finger in his direction.

“You need to set an example here, Colonel—show a little restraint please!”

“You want restraints? Yes Ma’am, we can go there if you want—“ he offered, his eyes as dark as espresso, his smile tinged with wicked enthusiasm. Rose regretted her words, but lifted her chin and tried to glare at him.

“You know what I mean, Jack—this is the Mountain. We agreed, no fooling around here, no matter how tempting. It’s a matter of principal.”

“Oy!” he grunted, crossing his arms and staring up at Rose’s ceiling. “I’d be happy to give up my high moral standards in this time of crisis you know.”

“Big of you—“ Rose snickered, staring pointedly at him. Jack smirked.

“Isn’t it? I hate to brag but—“

“—BUT you’re going to set the standards of officer and gentleman to the letter. If you do that for the next two and a half days—“ Rose leaned down to fish in her purse by her feet, showing a nice bit of leg and cleavage in the process. She pulled out the valentine’s card and waved it at Jack.

“—Then on Monday night we can do ALL of these things you so naughtily wrote to me, Jack. In fact—“ she opened the card and licked her lips, “We could do number four TWICE.”

His eyes widened and he drew in a breath, unfolding his hands and sliding his suddenly damp palms down his thighs as he tried to keep his voice calm.

“Twice?” he demanded in a tight voice, “Number four?”

Rose nodded.

Jack actually shivered.

*** *** ***

Paul finished up the last of the meetings with Hammond and the officers of SG9, then caught a quick nap in the bunkroom that had been set up for the unassigned personnel, He was aware that the overall mood of the Mountain was a sort of patient high spirits: the Tikmati spots were at worst slightly annoying and at best amusing. Some of the very first cases were already beginning to fade, and those who still bore them had discovered many interesting qualities about the little outbreaks.

For example, they tended to move faster when the victim was agitated, excited or in any other highly emotional state. Lieutenant Nagy of the day security forces found this out when he got his hand slammed in the one of the VIP room doors. His spots flew into a dervish along the bridge of his nose as he hopped up and down cursing in guttural Hungarian, his wounded hand clenched between his knees.

Also, the spots had a tendency to glow in the dark—Fraiser and her team theorized that the virus somehow focused the body’s natural phosphorescence but nobody knew for sure. The soft glow made for some jokes about a thousand points of light and Vegas showgirls, but most people merely chuckled and went on with as normal a day as they could.

Paul had managed to have both dinner and Valentine morning breakfast with Sam, albeit in the company of other members of SG1 both times. Daniel was in the fade point of Tikmati, and Joanna almost fully recovered. In contrast Rose was in full bloom, her lovely dots dancing across her face.

Paul studied his own hands cautiously.

“Aren’t we ALL supposed to have it by now?”

“That’s the theory,” Jack agreed through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, “Although if you ask me the virus is afraid of yours truly. I did my stints with both measles and chickenpox as a kid, so obviously I’m immune or something.”

“Could be high levels of noxious substances in you—“ Rose commented innocently. While everyone laughed, Paul felt Sam run a cautious hand down under the table to join with his, squeezing it in a shy little impulse. He squeezed back, feeling ridiculously touched at such a gentle gesture. Patience seemed to be paying off. Sam shot him a sidelong look of innocence.

“Well, since technically it’s the weekend—“ Paul began, looking around the group, “I suppose today will be a little more—relaxed.”

“Pretty much,” Daniel smiled. He was absent-mindedly sorting through his Lucky Charms, neatly piling up the soggy marshmallows by type as he spoke, “I plan on catching up on some academic journals that have been piling up. Bonnie from the cafeteria tells me they’re planning on some sort of big Valentine’s dinner tonight, too.”

“Ooooohh—breaking out the prime rib for little old US?” Rose laughed, her spots swaying gently. Jack smiled.

“Let’s see—paperwork until lunchtime, a session in the gym with Teal’c, a little quality time with ESPN in the lounge and a fancy dinner I don’t have to pay for—I’m good with it.”

Breakfast broke up with everyone scattering to various parts of the mountain. Sam touched Paul’s arm, her face pink.

“I think I might be breaking out,” she sighed, rubbing her nose, “But I’m not sure—could I ask a favor?”

Swiftly she led him to her lab and closed the door behind them. Warily Paul looked at her; Sam blushed.

“Okay yes, that looked, um—but I really do think I’m breaking out!” she blurted, rolling up a sleeve. Paul laughed and moved to stand behind her, his big hands on her shoulders, rubbing with the perfect amount of pressure along the tension bracketing her frame.

“Your turf, your moves, Nell baby—and yes, it looks like Tikmati has finally found you—“ he replied, peering down at the back of her neck. Sam giggled.

“Terrific—the sooner I get it, the sooner I can get over it. Ooohhhh, that feels really good—“ she purred as Paul kept up the shoulder rub. He shifted his fingers, lightly massaging the tight muscles along the back of her neck, privately proud to feel them loosen under his touch. Sam was definitely warm.

“Your spots are spinning—“ he mentioned, watching in fascination as the tiny points swayed around his fingertips. Sam gave a helpless little groan.

“I bet they are—where did you learn to RUB like that?” She demanded, arching her neck in pleasure. Paul leaned in, lips close to her ear.

“All part of secret intelligence training—I’ve been known to massage highly restricted material right out of enemies of the nation.”

“Strokes for state secrets?” Sam turned her head, smiling at him, her breathing coming a bit faster at his proximity. Amazing green eyes, really—

“Rolfing for records, caressing for classified documents—“ Paul agreed warmly, laughing with her. Sam dropped her head down to her chest, and unable to resist, Paul tenderly kissed the nape of her neck, not caring if the camera was on or not. Sam stiffened.

“Oh God, Paul—“ she spun, blue eyes alight, lower lip quivering. Clumsily, but with enchanting eagerness she threw herself into his arms. He caught her up and let himself be kissed, letting Sam find his mouth in her hungry quest. She moaned a little when her tongue danced with his joyously.

“Ohhhhh---“ Paul murmured, dazed and smiling, his voice husky. “I think you just gave me spots—“

“Mmmmmm—“ Sam giggled against his mouth, “I better check—“

They kissed with more hunger and less restraint this time; Paul felt Sam’s strength as she held him close, arms coming up under his to grip his shoulders.

“Mmmmmpfh—Sam, the cameras—“ he managed to whisper with regret. She shook her head, nibbling at Paul’s lower lip.

“Alternate days—“ she replied dreamily. He pushed forward at that, no longer shy, and pinned her against one of the putty colored cabinets with a metallic thump.

“Well in THAT case—“ Paul growled, moving his mouth with ruthless skill down the side of Sam’s throat, “—All good officers should take advantage of these opportunities for teamwork.”

Sam didn’t reply, at least not in words as much as soft, urgent sighs between slow deep kisses. She was being reckless, she knew, but this magnificent urgency surging through her was too strong to ignore. After three weeks, Paul’s mere smile was enough to turn up the heat between her thighs; now his kisses were making her throb.

“Paul—I don’t think we can—um—“ she tried to form a coherent sentence, but it was difficult to form the words. His arms tightened around her.

“—Not HERE, that’s for sure—“ Paul replied, his voice strained, but his touch gentle as he slid a hand up along the warm indentation of her spine through her tee shirt. Sam shivered at the feel of his palms through the thin black cotton, and sensing it, he hesitated.

“Sam?” Paul asked, very softly. She could hear the question in his voice, balanced delicately in his low syllables. The thought moved her deeply that this tall, warm, amazing man would wait and give her time; with frustration Sam blinked away the prick of tears, trembling at this sign of how much his patience MEANT to her.

“Paul—“ she began, dropping her head on his shoulder, “I’m not good at this. I want you and I’m a little out of my depth here.”

“I know.”

Annoyed, she looked up at him, expecting a smirk, but instead he met her gaze with a frank one of his own, a look warm with desire and understanding. It melted Sam a bit and she tilted her head to one side, shifting just to feel his body against hers.

“I haven’t—dated—“ she began slowly, “—in what seems like forever. It wasn’t important up until yesterday.”

“What made yesterday so notable?” Paul asked as his soft breath stirred her bangs. Sam gave a self-deprecating chuckle and kissed his Adam’s apple.

“When Janet issued the order for the base to be sealed off all I didn’t know you’d already gotten in. All I could think about was that I wouldn’t see you until she cleared the quarantine, and even though I understood the lockdown protocol perfectly, for the first time in my career I considered—alternatives to direct orders.” She swallowed a little at this admission and Paul’s arms tightened around her.

“Sam—“

“Pretty stupid, huh?”

“I’ve never been more flattered in my life, Nell baby—“ the rough timbre on gentle nickname came easily to him. Paul drew in a breath and ran a hand along the side of her face, caressing it gently.

“I wasn’t kidding about this being your turf, Sam—you call the shots on this, all right? It’s been a while for me too, but I know what I want.”

Sam smiled, feeling the ardent response of his body, the hard press through the BDUs and the melty sensation responding in her stomach.

“What I want—“ she confided softly, “—is to make out like a pair of teenagers.”

Paul solemnly nodded even as his hands moved up her back again with complete confidence.

“Teenagers, hmm?” he demanded as if thinking it over. Sam nodded, her blue eyes bright. Paul lazily yanked her close. The kiss he dropped on her mouth was deep and slow and breathlessly good, a kiss with no restraints on it, and Sam was gasping by the time Paul pulled up to breathe.

“Woooahhhhh—“ she gurgled, cheeks flushed. Paul grinned and bent to nip her earlobe.

“Did you lock the door?”

Eyes going saucer-wide Sam tried to dart towards it, but their dog tags had tangled, and she found herself tethered to him, dancing around as Paul laughed.

“It’s not funny—“ she fumed. He shook his head, fingers tugging at the intertwined chains.

“Sure it is—“ Carefully he pulled his own off, and unhooked it from hers, managing to get a lot of touching in while he did so. Sam gave an exasperated giggle, well aware that she still felt the ache of unfulfilled desire. Paul smiled at her.

“Want to go steady?” he asked in a semi-serious tone, handing her one of the chains. Sam slipped it on and glanced up at him.

“That is SUCH a Valentine’s thing to ask—“ she accused with a grin, poking a finger at his chest for emphasis. He grabbed it, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the pad. Sam squirmed.

“Say yes—you know you WANT to—“ he teased.

“Okay, okay, Do-Right. I’ll go steady with you—“ she huffed. He reached for her again.

“Terrific—let’s celebrate—“ Paul murmured, tugging her over to the edge of her worktable and pinning her up against it. Before Sam could do more than hang on for balance, he had one strong arm braced behind her back and was sliding his other hand very lightly along the front of one of her khaki-clad thighs. Sam gulped. Against her lips, Paul demanded in a muffled kiss,

“Ever win a science fair?”

“Yes—lots of them.”

“I KNEW it—brainy girls always do—“

His fingers had slipped in a firm caress up her thigh in slow circles of pressure, and Sam could feel her pulse start to gallop. Heat flared in her body, and she didn’t know what to do with her own hands. Paul did though.

With smooth deliberation he shifted, straddling one of her thighs as he kissed her to distraction, making soft hungry sounds doing it. For a few minutes, Sam blindly rocked forward, sliding against the solid muscle of his strong right thigh between hers now, and the pressure was amazingly GOOD. She groaned.

“Mmmmmm---Fun with friction—“ he muttered in a tight voice as he licked her ear. Instantly Sam writhed and ooohhh baby, humping his thigh was more than she could handle. Suddenly her whole world was focused on the maddening desperate grind of khaki on khaki. Sam forced herself to glance down, realizing the part of the teasing pressure could only be—

Paul’s hand, cupping and squeezing the trapped fullness of her mound through her fatigues. The combined sight and feel of his ruthlessly erotic touch made shudders slam though her slim frame, and with a sighing cry, Sam shuddered against perfect pressure of his sweet palm.

She clung to his shoulders, trying to catch her breath, looking dazed and utterly amazed; Paul lost no time in kissing her again, but gently on her forehead, like a benediction.

Sam looked up into his eyes and tried to say something but the raw vulnerability of the moment wouldn’t let her, leaving her speechless and bewildered. Paul drew in a breath.

“The fundamentals of pressure and leverage—“ he teased her softly, “—One of my best unofficial projects. Sam, I have to move-“ he added, biting his lower lip. Her eyes flickered down again, taking in the huge damp stain seeping against his fly; Sam laughed before she could help herself.

“Ohh, you—“

“Oh yes. Yes, I certainly did and it doesn’t feel any better now than it did back in high school thank you very much.”

“I have lab coat—“ she offered, a tenderness flooding through her chest.

“No, I’ll just pull the jacket closed and hit my locker in the shower room—“ he grimaced, blushing a little. Sam stretched up and kissed him, happy and shy at the same time, feeling the languid bliss of post-orgasmic relaxation. Paul laughed softly.

“So—was that teenager enough for you?”

“Actually—we need to do this again. A lot of times in fact.”

“CAN do—“ Paul hooted gleefully.

“-- In the backseat of a car—“ Sam batted her eyes at him.


*** *** ***

“He’s cute.”

“He’s LAME. I am not giving up SportsCenter to watch some prettyboy actor pretend he knows a damn thing about improvising his way out of flimsy contrived plots—“ Jack groused. Rose had a death grip on the remote and shook her head.

“You’ve already hogged the set for two hours. You’re just jealous that I think he’s attractive.”

“Riiiight,” Jack scoffed, glancing at the screen. “ANYbody can fake it with duct tape.”

“Oh hush!” Rose rolled her eyes.

“He could at least lace up his damn sneakers—“ Jack sent this parting shot over his shoulder as he made his way out of the lounge. Joanna slid in past him and glanced at the screen.

“Woo, prime Eighties tush!” she approved, dropping next to Rose on the sofa and settling in. Rose nodded.

“Oh yeah---I think he wears a tank top in this one.”

“Sweeet!” For a moment neither woman said anything more, but the grins were matching. Presently Rose glanced at her neighbor.

“So—I noticed certain Majors were MIA this morning.”

“Yep.”

Again a thoughtful pause as each woman digested this. Presently Joanna glanced over. Rose was a multicolored beacon of glee.

“Let’s give them some space then—not that it’s going to be easy, stuck here as we are—“ Joanna admitted. Rose nodded in agreement.

“Yes I agree—I’m pretty sure I can keep Jack-- um, amused for a while after dinner, and Daniel’s getting together with some of those new assistants Nyan was working with. How about you and Teal’c?”

“Oh we’re overdue for a Po’takesh, so we’ll be out of the loop for a good long while—“ Joanna managed with a straight face, although her velvety brown eyes were alight with mischief. Rose nodded knowingly.

“You don’t say—well, that’s going to tie us up. Let’s hope Paul Davis is bright enough to seize the opportunity, eh?”
“He should do fine—they don’t give you clusters for being stupid.”

*** *** ***

Word of the dinner had passed through the complex with amazing speed, and most of the personnel in the Mountain were looking forward to it. Hammond turned a genial blind eye to the relaxation of uniform regs; as a result there were hair ribbons, lipstick and casual civilian touches evident in the wardrobe of every woman in the facility.

Not to be outdone, many of the men managed to take the occasion to heart as well, making it a point to shower, shave and add their own attempts at grooming beyond those required by regulation. The resulting atmosphere of jocular good humor made the locker room more like one at a college than a military complex.

“Same old, same old—“ Lieutenant McTavish groaned, looking in the mirror over the sink. Next to him Paul was doing the same thing.

“Spots—“ he commiserated, examining his own reflection with a jaundiced eye. The lively dots of green and blue were managing a slow waltz over his features, bumping the red and yellow ones around.

“Yeah—at least the Tikmati ones are going to fade and nobody makes TOO much fun of them,” McTavish pointed out. Behind them one of the marines cleared his throat and both men finished up their shaving.

Paul was nervous and relaxed at the same time, well aware that he was treading on very new exciting ground with Sam. The promise of her body was still thrumming through him, and even though he’d completely embarrassed himself by losing control back in her lab it had been worth it a thousand times over. The intense heat of her mound against his palm had been more than he could take, and hearing her cry out, KNOWING he’d done that for her—

It was hard to fight his smile at the memory of seeing her so dazed and soft under him. Paul wanted to see that look again, to send Sam through so much pleasure that she’d stay boneless and content in his arms all night. He’d dreamed of it often enough. With a last flick of the comb though his hair he packed his kit bag and tossed it into the locker, grateful that he’d brought his overnight bag with him instead of leaving it at the BOQ.

“How do you spell languid?” O’Neill asked the room at large as he busily scribbled on a piece of paper he had up against the side of the lockers. Paul hesitated.

“l-a-n-g-u-i-d, sir.” He offered. O’Neill grunted in thanks and finished his note, muttering,

“Since we don’t have access to a Hallmark I’m improvising. God FORBID I try and get out of Valentine’s on the flimsy excuse of a medical emergency.”

“Ate all your hidden bags of M and Ms?” Daniel commiserated, pulling on his white cableknit sweater. O’Neill made a face but didn’t answer, which was damning enough. Daniel crossed his arms and smiled.

“I have three bags of Hershey’s kisses.”

“How much?” O’Neill looked up, his expression calculating. Daniel shook his head.

“They’re our markers for the poker game. Joanna is going to teach Teal’c how to play.”

“With his ability to go inscrutable THAT ought to be an interesting session—“ O’Neill replied. Paul slipped out of the locker room quietly, checking his watch and wondering if he had time to write a note as well. He headed down towards the bank of elevators.

*** *** ***

The kitchen staff of the Cheyenne Mountain complex cafeteria had outdone themselves in more ways than one. Given a certain freedom, they had managed to create an almost café atmosphere in the huge dining room by setting candle votives at every table and decorating the walls with heart cutouts of red paper and silver foil. The tables had cloths, proper settings and namecards on them, and the enticing smells wafting through the air were met with appreciative murmurs.

Paul noticed little of it, preferring to concentrate on the lithe nape in front of him. Sam’s neck drew his eyes to its graceful curves and he yearned to kiss it, just to make her shiver. The spots along it were in full bloom now and added to her attractiveness as far as he was concerned. The jumpsuit clung to her figure, and the hint of pink frost on her lips was enough to keep his gaze on her.

They stood in line patiently, moving down the display of succulent selections and loading their trays. Sam glanced over at Paul’s plate.

“We are SO lucky to make it in line before SG3,” she commented knowingly. Paul grinned.

“I heard that from Daniel too—“

“Yes, they hog everything to be honest, and most of the time nobody really cares, but I really was in a mood for meat tonight—“

That’s when her blush broke out, dark pink under the swirling spots, utterly endearing to Paul, who cleared his throat and murmured under his breath,

“So noted—moving right along—“

They made it through the line without further incident and found their places at one of the long tables back against the far wall under the aerial photo displays. Joanna and Teal’c were already seated, discussing something in low tones as they ate.

“—And a full house beats two pair or a single pair, no matter what the suits are. Got it?”

“Indeed. And the object of this pursuit is accumulate a desirable hand of cards.”

“No, the objective is to accumulate eveone else’s kisses. What’s in your hand only matters at the end of the round—you have to learn to bluff, fake it—“ Joanna persisted. “You can have a crap hand and still win if you can convince everyone to believe you’ve got the primo goods, baby.”

Teal’c arched an eyebrow at her so eloquently that it needed no further words. Sam and Joanna both snickered into their napkins. Paul concentrated on his prime rib, but he was smiling too.

“After a few rounds you’ll pick it up fairly quick—“ he offered. Sam nodded not trusting her voice just yet. Joanna cleared her throat and glanced at the two Majors.

“And you two are in, right? It’s not much of a game with two players if T’s trying to learn.”

Sam shot Paul a look; he nodded.

“Sure—“ she agreed, her stomach aflutter.


An hour later, the four of them sat around one of the tables in VIP room number three quietly sorting out their hands. Joanna had dealt, and the a great percentage of the hands had gone well for Sam, who had a nice pile of Hershey’s kisses at her left elbow. Across the table from her, Paul was debating on what to discard, and keeping his expression neutral. Joanna was grunting a bit under her breath.

“Who dealt this garbage?”

“I believe that is rhetorical is it not?” Teal’c asked softly. Both Paul and Sam smiled. Joanna rolled her eyes and anted. Sam followed as did Teal’c. Paul hesitated.

He had three kings, an ace and a four and was fairly sure he could make a full house. He also had Sam’s boots comfortably trapped between his under the table. Unfortunately, his kisses were down to two, and unless this play went his way, he was going out with no hope of coming back unless someone floated him a loan. Paul looked over the edge of his cards. Sam’s big blue eyes were twinkling amid her fading spots.

“I thought you played this in DC with Senators and the Joint Chiefs, Paul—“

“—Where it’s prudent and practical NOT to win, Sam. You never know who’s going to be sitting on the next promortion board,” he replied smoothly, tossing in one of the little foil-covered candies into the pile in the center of the table. Joanna sighed, discarding three cards. Sam took one, Teal’c none. Paul hesitated, and tossed out the four, receiving in return the ace he so desperately needed. He slid it into his hand and waited.

“Up to you, Joanna—“ Sam prodded the dealer. Joanna shot a dirty look at her and straightened her shoulders.

“Fold—Teal’c, isn’t it time to, ah--Po’takesh?”

Teal’c gravely stared at her, lifting his chin.

“We have no sour cream or windchimes, Joanna,” he announced.

Sam snorted; Paul bit his kips to keep from laughing as everyone looked at Joanna. She went a lovely shade of magenta but blurted back,

“We can improvise, like that guy on TV—“

Sam anted, followed by Teal’c. He arched an eyebrow at the woman opposite him.

“Without the proper material and concentration you will chafe badly and I do not wish Doctor Fraiser to lecture us again on the importance of stretching our tendons.”

More smirking between the majors.

Paul tossed in his last kiss with a flicker of regret.

“Call”

Sam laid down her two pair, Kings and nines. Teal’c tipped his hand, sixes and sevens. Paul sighed, fanning out his cards with a flourish.

“And that brings me my stash back, but only by the skin of my teeth.”

Sam hid her pout; Paul flashed a grin at this evidence of her competitive nature. Joanna rolled her head from ear to ear and sighed.

“Well—“

“It is indeed time, Joanna. Po’takesh tac no kree—“ Teal’c rumbled, staring at her. She blinked.

“We’ll take the stairs—that ought to loosen up our—tendons.“

“Indeed. It is also beneficial for the other muscle group I must abuse in the ritual.”

Joanna thought about this as she rose from her seat and stacked the cards on the table.

“My calves? My forearms?”

Teal loomed over her shoulder.

“No.”

It dawned on her at they passed through the doorway and she stiffened indignantly.

“Muscle group my ASS—“


As they left, Sam shot a look at the door closing behind them and then at Paul, who was leaning back in his chair, hands laced behind his head. The hot fluttery feeling was back, stronger than ever. He smiled at her.

“You were deliberately dumping your hand, Do-Right,” she accused, unpeeling one of the kisses. Paul didn’t deny it and his smile went wider.

“What gave it away?”

“I was watching your neck—“ she admitted, slipping out of her seat and coming over to him. Very gently she laid the chocolate kiss on his lips as she spoke, “—and you flex it a little when you’re about to do something risky.”

Carefully Paul let his tongue scoop the chocolate into his mouth. Sam watched him, the tension thick with anticipation. She bent down a little, but instead of kissing him as he expected, she reached for the tab of his flight suit. He blinked.

“I think you’re coming onto me—“ he pointed out. Sam nodded her white grin flashing out, fingers tugging on the zipper. It slid down a few inches with a growl, revealing a section of firm lightly furry chest. Paul swung his hands down and dropped one over hers, pinning it there.

“Please be gentle with me—“

“Fat chance, Do-Right—“ she muttered hungrily as she bent down to kiss him.

Paul took her into his arms gratefully, pulling her into his lap, devouring her with single-minded intent. Sam tasted of chocolate, watermelon lip gloss and passion, a combination arousing him intensely. Her tongue circled his, taunting it to come play in her mouth. Paul groaned, sliding in strongly, taking the kiss from her in a long mutual session of amazing orality.

“Haveto—breathe—“ he admitted with a low laugh. Sam had shifted, straddling his thighs in the chair. Her blonde hair was ruffled; her big eyes a darker shade of blue as she breathed hard.

“I know—but kissing you is so—GOOD!” she gulped, her spots spinning with an almost joyous flair. Paul felt himself swell painfully at that; a hard throb that he knew Sam couldn’t possibly miss. She didn’t, glancing down with surprise. Paul closed his eyes to hide his embarrassment.

“Positive reinforcement—“ he mumbled, completely unprepared for what Sam did next. Very slowly, she took his warm right hand and pressed it onto the collar of her flight suit.

“Another teenager game then—“ she said a little croakily. Paul understood in a flash.

“--Show me yours and I’ll show you mine—“ he finished breathlessly. Sam nodded, her gaze never leaving his, and suddenly the room was too warm.

Paul sighed harshly. He deliberately looked away from her to the door and moving in tandem they both scrambled out of the chair. They collided against the door, but Sam was faster, locking it with fumbling fingers as Paul loomed against her hip, his long arms reaching around her shoulders to help.

“Sam, we won’t have a lot of time—“

“—So let’s make all of it count! Damn it, Paul, you SAID it was my turf my rules, and what I want is—“

“—To make out like teenagers, yeah,” he responded. With a nip to her cheek, Paul added, “Call the base then—second, third-- Tell me right NOW how far you want to go, Sam.”

Blushing hotly Sam lifted her face to look up at him, feeling his breath on her face, the tough angles and planes of his body pinning hers to the door. She could feel her skin prickling hot and cold as she lost herself in the blazing green of his eyes.

“Not all the way—“ she croaked, visions of SF breaking down the door and hauling the two of them naked to Hammond’s office. Paul nodded seriously.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t want our first time to be here, Sam, honey. I want you in my bed with clean sheets and not a damn stitch of clothing anywhere on your body—“ came his confession. She moaned, her hips pushing hard against his. He kissed her cheekbone and with a groan pulled away from her to run a hand through his hair.

“Give me the rules, Sam---how far?” Paul demanded.

“Th-third--”

“You’re sure—“ as the words left his mouth Sam reached over and tugged the zipper of his flight suit lower, almost to his navel, revealing the once seen never forgotten lean muscles of his chest and stomach. Sam gave a little sobbing gulp, staring in mesmerized delight. Paul sucked in a breath at her rapturous expression.

“It looks better without the spots—“ he assured her, but Sam barely giggled as she slipped her hands into the suit to slide around his ribs. Sighing softly, she began to lick all along the taut lightly furred pectoral muscles of Paul’s chest. He held back a shudder, arms sliding up to cradle her shoulders, helpless for a moment against the determined onslaught of her lips.

“OhhhhhSam—“

Carefully he waltzed the two of them across the VIP room until the back of her thighs hit the edge of the bed. Sam laughed against his throat and tightened her grip around his ribs, pulling Paul down onto her and making the springs creak under their combined weight.

“Do me, Do-Right!” she gurgled under him giddily. Paul laughed outloud at her order and rolled to one side of her, propping his head on his elbow. With his other hand he tugged the zipper of her flight suit down slowly, making the growl sound loud in the room. Sam drew in a breath, making her chest heave a bit. Paul gave an appreciative sigh.

“You have absolutely NO idea how many times I’ve thought about seducing you, Samantha Carter—“ he admitted. Any reply she would have made dissolved as his hand cupped one of her bra-covered breasts, his strong warm fingers curving firmly over it. Heat seeping through his hand made her nipples pebble up through the silk and she arched happily.

“Tell me—“

“Hundreds. From the day we met—“ he confessed, leaning down and kissing her firmly. For a while they contented themselves with tangling tongues and getting amazingly comfortable with their own untried sensuality. Sam took her time in exploring the warm planes of Paul’s throat, in rubbing her face against his lightly furry chest, and when she closed her teeth on the rivet like nipple closest to her, Paul gasped outloud.

“Ohhhhhh---“

Sam studied him with fierce tenderness, loving the erotic image of him in the light of a single lamp, lying there half out of his flight suit, bare-chested and aroused, a Major Davis nobody else would ever see or suspect. She licked her lips.

“Paul—“

“Shhhh—“ his look held a hint of mischief; leaning over her, Paul took the bottom edge of her bra in his teeth, tugging it up high enough to expose her chest, then shifting back to lick the warm valley between her aching breasts. Sam shuddered, her eyes closed against the intensity of the sensation.

“Saucy, pert, adorable—“ came his delighted groans between soft kisses and nibbles. Sam writhed, all too aware of what SHE must look like as well: tousled and half undressed, breasts exposed and lips puffy from kissing. Her hands came up to caress the back of Paul’s head as he rolled a hard nipple between his tongue and upper lip.

“I didn’t think—anything could FEEL this good—“ came her whimper as her entire body arched, longing for him, responding forcefully to the magnificent play of his mouth across her hungry skin.

“God, me either—“ came his heart-felt but muffled reply against the underside of her right breast. Sam slid a booted leg over Paul’s hip, trying desperately to rub against him, but he pulled away and laid his hand on her stomach, staring down into her face.

“I want to touch you Sam—“ he asked, clearly and slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Involuntarily she glanced down the length of her body; a spike of raw pleasure seared right between her thighs at the though of Paul’s big warm hand there, and she nodded.

“Yes, yes please—“

With the gentleness she was fast coming to love, Paul tugged the jumpsuit zipper all the way down, exposing the sleek peach skin of Sam’s stomach, the white silk panties. He softly stroked her stomach, contenting himself with kissing her for a few minutes, pressing the hard length of himself on the outside of her thigh. She tried to protest, but Paul shook his head.

“I can wait. I WANT to wait—“

His fingers slid over the bone of her hip and across her mound, teasing it on the way to the other hipbone, moving slowly. Sam gave a little growl of frustration, lifting her hips.

“Paul!”

“Sorry—it’s just so amazingly erotic to see you all wound up like this—“ he laughed. She was prepared to snap back at him, but at that moment he carefully slid his hand up and under the leghole of her panties.

Sam moaned instead, loudly and deeply. Paul laughed again, but against her neck. His fingers raked through her curls, stroking gently over her mound, and Sam struggled to spread her legs wider, hampered both by the suit and the panties. Paul sucked her neck, right at the tender join to her shoulder.

“So soft, so hot my sexy Sam—“ he rumbled even as his fingers slid along the moist seam of her sex, parting the tangled fur and sliding with knowing delicacy between the hot folds.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing went into choked gasps. Her hands gripped Paul’s shoulder tightly and her body rocked up against his touch, beyond any conscious control she could manage.

“Ohhhhhh---“

“And juicy. I’m going to love the TASTE of you, Nell baby,” Paul affirmed, his voice thick with controlled passion, but his touch teasing and sure. Sam flexed, moving against his touch, helpless to resist the waves of heat rolling up her belly. His thumb was right against the hard little bud of her sex, barely brushing it while his fingers were sliding into her.

“OhGodPaulPauuuuhhhhh---“ Sam groaned, her head roling from side to side as the building wave of her orgasm rose through her body, tensing her, sending her spinning blindly in a hot slow ride of molten pleasure.

When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes, on the verge of tears and aware of every cell in her body singing. Sam felt tender and exposed.

“Hey.” A soft kiss on her nose brought Paul back into focus. He smiled at her, his eyes drinking in the sight of her rosy flushed face as he slowly withdrew his hand from her.

She sobbed. Paul dropped his head to her shoulder, letting her cling to him, rocking Sam gently as the tears came fast and furious.

“Shhhhh—it’s okay, Sam, it’s okay—“ he soothed her, not in the least bothered by her outburst. She wiped her face on his bare shoulder and sniffled loudly.

“I just don’t LOSE it like that, Paul. I’m not the kind of woman who does, but it was just so overwhelming—“

“Listen to me, Sam,” Paul murmured urgently, “You are one hell of an amazing, charming, sexy, funny, adorable, sexy woman.”

“You said sexy twice.”

“Because you’re twice as sexy as anyone else—“ He teased, and Sam laughed, licking a tear that had made it to the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me, but on the Paul Davis scale of women Who Rock my World you’re the only contender there, Nell baby. You want teenager, then face it, you rule my tool.”

Sam burst out laughing again; Paul blushed but held his ground, smiling at her joy and kissing her mouth with soft delight. She shifted and looked down.

“Hey, um—you’re—that is, you didn’t—“

“I was more interested in YOU—“ he told her honestly. Sam rose up on her elbows and shook her head.

“Holy Hanna, Paul—come here—“

Sam reached for the zipper of his flight suit and yanked it down, revealing a sculpted furry stomach, an adorable naval and white briefs with a very respectable bulge stretching them out. She smiled.

“Wow—is that for me?”

“Trick question, right?” Paul grunted as Sam slid her hand over him, cupping the ridge warmly. She sat up on one hip and gently opened the seam, sliding her hands in and freeing his shaft. It rose up between her hands and she studied it, her blue eyes wide and sparkling. Paul gave a low shuddery sigh.

“Well THIS is a first—“ he muttered as the Tikmati spots glowed all along his thick shaft. Sam gave it a light squeeze, her fingers and thumb barely touching around the diameter of him.

“Wow.” Without taking her eyes from his, Sam slowly and carefully licked her palm. She wrapped her hand around his hot flesh, and then reached for his hand, laying it ontop of hers. Paul understood, moved by her unspoken admission.

“ Like this—“ he muttered softly as she scooted closer, letting him guide her hand up and down along the thick column. Slowly they pumped, and Sam leaned in to kiss him, bringing a surge of pleasure to them both. She licked his lips and sucked Paul’s tongue as their hands stroked him, sliding up and down in a rough demanding caress. After a few minutes Paul swelled under her fingers and Sam tore away from the kiss to watch as the broad swollen head of his cock erupted in a geyer of thick white pulses, splattering his stomach and their hands with wet heat. Paul panted, his chest heaving a bit, his jaw slack. Sam kissed him again, feeling his grateful response.

“I’ve never done that—at least not to the point of ejaculation,” she confessed, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. Paul laughed weakly.

“I’d be happy to teach you—although you seem to be a natural—God! I thought I was going to reach the ceiling for a moment there.”

Sam giggled, wiping his stomach and then her fingers. Paul watched her, his green eyes sparkling. Lightly he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss, sighing into her mouth.

*** *** ***

Doctor Janet Fraiser declared the quarantine of Cheyenne Mountain Complex lifted at 12:00 PM Sunday Feburary15th. At that time, only one case of Tikmati fever remained, and the health screening of all other personnel cleared them to return to active duty. General Hammond granted most of the medical wing twenty-four hours of downtime in acknowledgement of their diligent work in keeping the epidemic from spreading outside the complex.

Paul Davis hung up the phone and fought back a wave of frustration as he turned to the woman standing next to him.

“I’m now in charge of a full reassessment of epidemic risk and procedures for the Gate Program. General Patterson wants me to fly to the CDC in Atlanta and start gathering data ASAP, which means—“

“—Twenty minutes ago, I know—“ Sam smiled sadly, her hands behind her back. Paul sighed harshly, glancing around to see if anyone else was within earshot. The computer banks of the Gate Control room were sparsely staffed and out of range.

“Damn it—we still have a lot to talk about, Sam. Serious things. Not so serious things. Stuff I don’t want to rush or pass over or forget.”

Sam smiled.

“Your dog was named Rowdy because your mom loved Clint Eastwood. Your sister is allergic to clams. When you were in college you fell out of a window at your frat house—“

“Okay, okay!” Paul laughed softly, flushing a little. He shot her a look.

“You like the Beatles and pizza rolls and once got grounded for two months for missing a curfew in high school—“

Sam smiled, wide and brilliant. She walked Paul to the main gate and saluted him, their gazes locking in a strong steady glance of rare tenderness. She watched the car drive off, towards Peterson and let herself linger for a moment, feeling the ghost of a kiss on her mouth.

***