Bent, Not Broken

by Vicki James, 2002

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

Please do not post or distribute this story without the author's permission.

******

"What do you mean that's not allowed?"

Given how her head was resting on his shoulder Sam's voice was muffled, but Jack heard her words clearly. He could also quite distinctly feel her breath against the bare skin of his neck as she spoke and how her soft hair brushed against his jaw. Definitely not allowed. Never mind how good it felt.

Her hand was now sneaking inside his jacket where it was halfway unzipped to trail slowly across his stomach. Double crap! Jack's hands clenched the steering wheel and he inhaled very deeply.

"Among the plethora of reasons, one would be that you should be wearing a seat belt." That was probably the lamest of reasons, her personal safety notwithstanding, but it was the one Jack felt at ease discussing.

"But this is more comfy," Sam protested, her words now slurring as a result of the excess of Christmas spirits she'd consumed that night. The end result of which was the situation they found themselves in with Jack having to drive her home from the bar.

Sam was nuzzling her cheek against his neck and she was...was she...oh yes, she was kissing his neck.

Jack jumped in his seat, causing her head to bounce off his shoulder. "Come on, Carter, over to your side of the truck. Belt on. Get going."

A pout on her lips, Sam sat up and shifted over on the seat. "Sleepy," she muttered. She lay down, her head falling into Jack's lap.

"Whoa! No!" The truck made a less-than-controlled swerve over to the side of the road where Jack flicked on the four-way lights and slammed the gearshift into park. "Carter, up," Jack ordered. He gripped her by the shoulders and assisted her into a sitting position. Then he took off his own seat belt and helped her along the bench seat to where he could buckle Sam into hers. "Now you stay there," he told her.

"Yes, sir. Jack. Sir Jack." Sam giggled. "Sir Jack. My knight in shining...pickup truck." She laughed again before letting her head fall back against the seat.

Jack grimaced as he got back behind the wheel and pulled out onto the road. Oh, she was so not going to have a good day tomorrow!

He felt sorry for her knowing the humiliation she'd feel if she remembered this little joyride in taking her home. She'd downed a few at the bar with him and Teal'c and Jonas during their Christmas outing. Then she and Jonas had downed quite a few more. Jonas hadn't been feeling any pain either, but Teal'c was able to take him back to the base in a cab. Jack had taken charge of getting Carter home.

It was highly unusual for her to lose control and the fact that she had perplexed Jack. Carter wasn't a drinker; sure, she'd have a few in a night but he'd never seen her get smashed. She always knew her limit. So why tonight? They were off duty for a few days over Christmas but Jack thought Carter would have saved any merry-making for the next night, Christmas Eve. Instead she'd spend it nursing a hangover.

She was silent for the rest of the drive home and didn't rouse when the truck came to a stop in front of her house. Jack shut off the ignition, got out of the truck and went around to the passenger side.

It was a cold, clear night with the snow on the ground glittering in reflection of the moon and the stars visible overhead. Jack's breath misted into a white fog before him as he spoke to Sam from outside the open passenger door.

"Carter, you're home. Carter..." He shook her gently by the shoulder. Her eyes opened briefly before she turned her head back against the seat.

Jack sighed. "Going to make me do this the hard way, right?" He unclasped her seat belt and eased one arm around her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, lifting her out of the truck. He kicked the door shut with his foot and toted his burden up to her doorstep.

Setting her down on her feet he supported her weight with an arm held firmly around her waist. He patted her cheek with his other hand, trying to wake her.

"Carter. Carter. Come on, Carter. Where are your keys?" No response.

Jack's eyes rolled heavenward. "Please let them be in your coat pocket," he said, not wanting to have to pat her down further. Not that he was averse to touching her in...other...areas, but that was a fantasy for completely different circumstances.

The jangling sound followed by the feel of cold metal in his hand as he slipped his fingers into her wide front coat pocket relieved Jack. He found the proper key on the first try and pushed open the door. Then he scooped up Sam again to carry her across the threshold.

It was obvious she would be out cold for a while. Jack stepped out of his shoes and moved past the kitchen and down the hallway to find Sam's bedroom. Once there he deposited her on the bed and made quick work out of taking off her boots and her coat, not letting his mind wander onto the fact that he was in her bedroom and however innocently, to some degree stripping her of her clothes. Okay, so it was just her boots and her coat but what if things were different and he was...he was not going there. He was not supposed to be thinking such things. He was helping out a friend, that was all.

Jack pulled the comforter over top of her and unable to resist, gently smoothed her hair back off her face. Then he left the room.

He paused by the front door. She seemed like she was just going to sleep it off, but what if she woke up in a few hours and fell down in the bathroom or something? Jack looked over at the living room couch. It wasn't huge, but it would do for a night. He removed his jacket, threw it over a chair and flopped down on the couch, pulling a quilt over top of him. He'd stay for a while to make sure she was all right and then slip out before she awoke in the morning.

"And I'll be home for Christmas," he muttered before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

******

Sam opened her eyes then quickly shut them as the nausea assailed her. She lay for a long while, feeling her stomach churn and tasting the dry pastiness of her mouth and hoping for sleep to claim her again. Unfortunately, the jackhammers in her head were pounding too loudly for sleep to return.

The jackhammers.

Jack hammers.

Jack.

Oh. No.

Dread churned around the nausea in Sam's stomach. Memories flooded back and with them ice flowed through her veins. She rolled herself into a fetal position and covered her face with her hands, stifling a groan.

If she could drink enough to get so stupid, why couldn't she have drunk enough to forget everything?

Much to her absolute humiliation, she remembered everything about that ride home. Sam raked her hands through her hair. She'd have to call the colonel and apologize. Maybe she'd even have to go by his house and do so face to face. She'd have to do it that day. Soon. Right away. Sam threw off the covers and jumped out of bed.

Okay, maybe she'd have to save her apologies for a bit later she thought, as a wave of dizziness assaulted her and she was forced to sit back down. Perching on the edge of the bed Sam held her head in her hands and breathed slowly and deeply to keep her stomach from revolting.

Once she had herself back under control Sam gradually rose. She peeled off the clothes in which she had slept and exchanged them for sweats and a T-shirt then headed for her kitchen.

After finding a couple of pain relievers Sam uncapped a jug of juice and downed it in great gulps, not even bothering with a glass.

On her way back from a visit to the bathroom her eye caught something amiss in the living room. She hesitated in her steps.

Sam was a very methodical person who liked everything to be in its proper place. She knew something...was...off. There. The quilt on her couch was turned inside out and draped over the opposite end from where she normally kept it. Sam slowly moved over to investigate, not liking at what the evidence was hinting.

She hadn't been alone in her house. Her quilt had been moved and on the seat of the couch lay a few coins, scattered there as if they had slipped from someone's pocket.

Someone who had apparently spent the night.

'It just keeps getting worse,' thought Sam as she picked up the quilt and wrapped it around herself. Not only had the colonel had to drive her home and get her into the house, he'd also had to baby-sit her through the night.

She lay down on the couch, rescinding her earlier wish to have blacked out and forgotten everything. Screwing her eyes shut, she hoped fervently that she hadn't forgotten anything, that passing out in the truck had been all she'd done. What she'd done prior to that had been more than enough.

The quilt still smelled faintly of the colonel's aftershave. She was familiar with the scent as she remembered thinking how much she liked it when she'd been busy kissing his neck.

No! She admonished herself. She was not going to think about it. It was too embarrassing by far. Yet a part of her still regretted being unable to relish the memory.

What if she hadn't been drunk? What if their circumstances were different and he'd returned her advances?

Sam fell back asleep with thoughts much sweeter than those to which she'd awakened.

******

Following a nap, a shower and a few more hours spent on the couch watching TV with a pint of ice cream and a spoon, Sam felt much better. At least she did physically. Emotionally was a whole other ball game as she tried to find the words she could use to apologize to the colonel.

The aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the house. Sam headed toward the kitchen for a cup but was forestalled by the sound of her doorbell.

It was late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. She wasn't expecting anyone. In fact, she knew there was no one around for her to possibly expect. Everyone else had commitments for Christmas. Sam sighed, pushing away any morose thoughts lingering from the previous night.

The snow had been falling all afternoon. It was probably one of the kids from down the street who liked to shovel her walk for a couple of bucks. Sam answered the door.

******

"Hey, Carter," said Jack brightly, with a smile. "How's the head?"

"Sir!" From the look of shock on Sam's face Jack thought maybe he should have called before showing up.

On second thought, nah. She likely would have made up some excuse as to why he shouldn't stop by.

Her eyes had widened in surprise when she'd opened the door but she was recovering gracefully.

"Sir," she said again, her spine stiffening and her chin tilting upwards, "I sincerely apologize for my behaviour last night. Not only was I disrespectful to you--"

Jack waved his hand in front of her to interrupt. "Carter. Forget about it."

"But sir, I was--"

"Carter! Snowing!" Jack pointed to the sky and then wrapped his arms around himself. "Cold. Can we at least take this inside?"

Her mouth hung open for a moment before she snapped it closed and nodded. "Come in."

"Thank you."

While Jack removed his boots and jacket Sam stood watching him, obviously a little unsettled by his unexpected appearance.

Jack threw his jacket over the back of a chair and grabbed the small shopping bag with which he'd arrived. He rose from picking it up and he and Sam stared at each other for a moment.

"Um..." Sam said as the silence stretched on uncomfortably. "I just made coffee. Want some?"

"Sounds good."

Sam went around the counter to the coffeepot then stopped and turned back.

"Oh, it's flavoured coffee. Christmas blend. Is that okay?"

Jack grimaced. "I suppose it'll have to do," he told her in an exaggerated tone, rolling his eyes and much to his pleasure winning a hint of a smile from her.

As she busied herself with getting their coffee Sam asked, "What brings you by?"

"You needed tinsel. I brought you some." He slid the shopping bag across the counter toward her.

Coffee mug in hand Sam turned to him. "What?"

"I noticed last night that you didn't have any tinsel on your tree." Jack relieved her of the mug. "Every tree's got to have tinsel, Carter."

Looking rather dumbfounded, Sam shook her head. Then she laced her hands together and rested them on the counter.

"Sir," she said firmly, meeting his eyes. "I really do have to apologize for last night."

"No you don't." Jack was equally adamant. "We've all had nights like that. Or at least I've had nights like that. Many a night best left forgotten. Which is what we're going to do. Forget about it."

Jack wished he could relieve her of the memories, which she obviously found tremendously embarrassing. He, on the other hand, didn't want to forget about some moments of the night before such as the feeling of her being cozied up to him with her lips doing unspeakable things to his bare skin.

He grabbed the shopping bag, focusing back on the current moment. "Tinsel," he reminded her. "Come on."

"Sir..." Her voice trailed after him as he headed over to her tree. "I still think we should talk--"

"Carter! Any apology you may feel the need to make is accepted. No sweat. Okay?" He turned to look at her and while she still appeared dubious, she nodded.

"Good. Now come take some of this tinsel." He handed her a clump of the strands and started draping his own portion over the branches of the tree.

When she began assisting he said, "How could you not have tinsel on your tree?"

Sam cracked a half smile. "I used to have a cat. Cats and tinsel aren't a good mix."

"Ah. Say no more."

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Sam piped up. "So this is why you came over? For the tinsel?"

Jack could hear the disbelief in her voice and wasn't surprised by it. "No," he admitted, frowning at a branch on which she'd put too much tinsel. "I also have a question for you."

"Okay," Sam said, curiosity lacing her tone. "Go ahead."

Picking at the strands of tinsel, Jack was engrossed in the task as he asked, "What made you go overboard with the drinks last night?"

Sam's eyes widened. "I thought we were going to forget about it."

Still working on the tree Jack replied, "We're forgetting about what happened. What I want to know is why it happened." He looked up to meet her gaze, seeing confusion and apprehension in her eyes.

"Carter," he said gently, "that wasn't like you. You know your limits and you always stick to them. Is something wrong?"

Sam's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "Nothing that you need concern yourself with, sir."

"Come on," Jack cajoled. "I brought you tinsel and saved your tree in time for Christmas. You can tell me." Her mouth remained clamped shut. "Don't forget, I'm your knight in a shining--"

"Sir! You said we weren't going to talk about it!"

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry." Jack looked down at his hand, his fingers clenching and unclenching, wadding the remaining tinsel he held into a tangled ball. "It's just...if there's something wrong, I want to help. I'm here for you."

She was silent. His last words had been uttered so quietly; he started to think she might not have even heard them. Jack was scared to look up at her, worried she was angry, upset, that he'd gotten too close for her comfort. He started knotting the pieces of tinsel together as the stillness in the room dragged on.

A dog barked outside. The rumble of a large vehicle could be heard, getting closer. It made a scraping, grating noise making it obvious it was a snowplow. It was about to pass by outside.

"I was worried about being lonely."

Jack raised his head, meeting Sam's wide eyes and wary expression. He noiselessly expelled the breath he'd been holding, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"Lonely? But why? Why would you be lonely?"

"Do you see all the people here ready to celebrate Christmas with me?" Sam spread her arms out. "There's nobody. Last night out with you guys was my big Christmas celebration. I had a couple drinks and was enjoying myself. I had been feeling a bit depressed about being alone for Christmas and I didn't want the night to end, so I had a couple more drinks. Then after that I got to the point where I didn't care how much I had to drink. I know it was stupid and irresponsible but that way I didn't have to think that Dad's who-knows-where. That my brother is spending Christmas with his wife's family. That Janet and Cassie have gone to her parents' and that I'm all alone for Christmas. I have no one else to spend it with. There's no one else."

"There's me."

Sam smiled but then shook her head. "Thank you, sir. That sounds nice..." Again a fleeting smile crossed her face before she sobered. "But I don't think it would be right."

"Why not?" Jack frowned down at the mangled pieces of tinsel in his hand as if seeing them for the first time. He threw the wad onto a nearby table and looked back up to meet Sam's gaze. "With everything we've done, with the 'saving the world' business and all, I think we're entitled to bend the rules a bit, especially at Christmas."

Sam sighed. "As much as I'd like to..."

"Oh, come on." Convincing her to spend Christmas with him suddenly became of paramount importance to Jack. He hadn't dreamed of the idea when he'd come over to her house; he'd simply been checking up on her to make sure she was okay. But now that the idea was in place he couldn't think of anything he wanted more for Christmas than to spend it with her. In a perfectly respectable manner, of course.

"I said the rules could be bent, not broken. We're not going to do anything we really, really shouldn't."

Sam's startled look at his alluding to what they couldn't be doing made him hurriedly add, "It'll just be two lonely people getting together for a holiday. Tonight we can grab a pizza and rent National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation and tomorrow we can meet up on base, grab Teal'c and Jonas and go find a restaurant serving turkey dinner."

Jack thought he could feel his heart beating with each breath he took. Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, echoed in his mind.

"Italian and It's a Wonderful Life."

When he couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face Jack was at least relieved to see it answered by a soft smile from Sam.

"I'll give you Italian, but it's got be Christmas Vacation. It's a classic!"

Sam's groan was laced with humour. "Deal. But first, my tree is completely lop-sided with tinsel."

******

Their boots left the first impressions in the newly fallen snow that sparkled in reflection of the lights overhead. At Sam's suggestion they had walked the few blocks to pick up dinner and the movie, admiring the lights and decorations of the houses along the way. Now armed with their fortifications, they cut through the path leading back to Sam's house.

Ahead of them someone from an adjacent house had strung Christmas lights in the branches of two pine trees that arched overtop of the path. Jack's eyes narrowed as he noticed something dangling down from the twinkling arbour.

"Carter," he said, stopping abruptly. "Is mistletoe native to Colorado?"

"No..." Sam answered cautiously.

"Then what's that?" Jack pointed above them.

Sam swallowed. "That's mistletoe, sir."

She looked back at him to have him regard her speculatively. His breath fogged in the cold night air and she counted five exhalations, though she was certain her heart must have been beating at double the pace. Of course, as ironic as it was to find themselves standing under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve, they weren't actually going to act on the tradition. Were they? The colonel was still looking at her and Sam couldn't tear her gaze away. Despite the frigid temperatures outside his eyes seemed to be lit by a fire within.

"You know, it's a rule, Carter."

"It is." Sam surprised herself by agreeing.

"And we are sticklers for rules." His voice had lowered and it washed over her like a caress.

"We are," she whispered back.

His bag containing the food hit the snow and her bag holding the video fell down beside it as Jack's arms came around her. Sam raised her hands to cradle the back of his head as it was lowering toward her.

Gently, his mouth glided over hers asking permission several times before she eagerly granted access by parting her lips. The kiss deepened and Sam knew Jack shared the passion she held in check, but neither would consider taking their unexpected Christmas gift over the edge. It was one kiss, one long, intimate, searing, soul sharing, shattering, heartfelt kiss, but when it was over, they broke apart.

Jack lowered his forehead to rest against hers.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," he said quietly.

"Merry Christmas."

******

Jack would have been content to stay in her embrace until the snow melted away, and then some. Too soon Sam unlocked her arms from behind his head, but with seeming reluctance as she slowly ran her hands down his arms before stepping away. Then she retrieved her bag from the ground and straightened, smiling at him. "Ready to go?"

"Ready. I think the food's going to need to be microwaved, though." He indicated the bag he had picked up.

"At least the bag's plastic." Sam smiled at him.

As they resumed their walk, Sam reached out and took hold of his gloved hand with her own. Surprised, he quickly glanced over at her.

"Bent, not broken," she reminded him.

Her face was flushed, probably from the cold but maybe, possibly from his kiss. At any rate, she looked happy and that made Jack feel the same way.

He simply squeezed her hand in reply.

******

End

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