Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Rating: NC17

Pairings: Sam/Sarah

Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it. I even borrowed the letters that make up the words.

Special Thanks to Hl for the banner and purple_shoes for the cover.

Colonel Robert Makepeace paced in his cell, trying to keep his calm. The last time he had been locked in this room was right after one of his first missions through the Stargate. He had been assigned to follow SG-1 through to a dark world and ended up coming down with some sort of degenerative virus that turned him into a neanderthal for a couple of days.

There was no pleading insanity on this one. He had been Maybourne's number one man inside the SGC. He had given detailed accounts to a reporter named Armin Selig in the hopes that his nosing around would eventually reveal the existence of the project to the nation and political pressure would force the higher-ups to be more aggresive in getting new technology.

Unfortunately, the reporter had turned out to be more trouble than he was worth, going directly to Colonel O'Neill and inquiring about the Stargate Project. Maybourne had caught wind of it and two NID stooges ran the poor, nosy reporter down in the streets. Makepeace couldn't sleep for a week after learning Armin was dead. The NID wouldn't have killed him if he hadn't been so nosy about the Stargate. He was supposed to just print the damn story. Makepeace leaned his head against the wall, almost hoping they found out about the reporter, just so it would be off of his conscience.

Then there was the matter of actually stealing the technology. He was in deep. Neck deep. He walked to the door and pounded for the guard, asking to be given a phone call. For the first forty-eight hours after an arrest at the SGC, all access to the outside world was restricted just in case the arrest was the cause of alien influence. Fortunately, Dr. Fraiser had ruled out any chemical cause for his actions and he'd been cleared for one phone call a day. When a cell phone was brought to him, he dialed the number of the one person he knew could help him in this matter. She was the best... if anyone could get him off on this, it was her.

When the phone was answered, Makepeace said, "Hello, my name is Robert Makepeace. I'd like to speak to Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, please."

---

Two weeks after the arrest of Robert Makepeace, he was being shipped out to Washington to be put on trial for his actions. Major Samantha Carter and Colonel Jack O'Neill were aboard the jet that was transporting their traitorous ex-colleague. The two were members of the elite SG-1, the premiere team at the SGC. Jack was only there because he had been the only eyewitness present to actually see Makepeace pick up the technology. Sam had been shanghaied to go along as a character witness, as well as her testimony to actually being present when a stolen artifact was found in Makepeace's supplies.

She stared out the window at the passing clouds, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "How long before we land, sir?"

Jack checked his watch. "35 minutes, give or take. Why?"

She shook her head, looking back out the window. The last time she had been on a jet like this was with Colonel Harry Maybourne and two aliens masquerading as O'Neill and Daniel Jackson. She shuddered at the thought and pushed it out of her mind. Everyone who knew about her secret fear found it ironic that she was an ace flyer when she was behind the controls. But something about being a passenger made her nervous as hell.

She glanced across the cabin at Colonel Makepeace. He was resting comfortably against the opposite wall, his cuffed hands resting on his lap. If it had been anyone else, she would have said he was sleeping the sleep of the just. Or maybe just the incredibly cocky. She had heard all about his hotshot lieutenant colonel in DC, this Mac MacKenzie. She had heard all about how he was so spectacular in the courtroom, how Makepeace would be cleared of all charges and back in rotation in no time.

Sam had never met the man and she already hated him. She also hated his name. Mac MacKenzie? What the hell kind of person is named that? She pictured a two-ton bruiser with a six-inch neck, forearms covered with tattoos and constantly shouting 'hoo-ah!' like some kind of demented movie Marine. He was probably the kind of guy who made her give up men in the first place.

Jack had changed out of his normal uniform of green khakis and black t-shirt to wear his dress uniform. He walked to the mirror and adjusted his tie, trying to hide the fact that it was a clip-on. Sam looked down at her own uniform, noticing several wrinkles produced during the hour and a half flight. Not to mention Jack's practically off-road shortcut to the airport.

She adjusted her blouse, then reached down and straightened her hose, making sure that there were no runs.

"Mmm, nice show, Major."

She looked up and saw Makepeace smiling at her. He was still positioned as before, only his eyes were open. Open and leering at her. She straighted in her seat and said, "Shut up. Sir." The last part was spoken with venom, her eyes shooting darts.

O'Neill turned away from the mirror. "Kids, kids... I'll turn this thing right around and go home."

"Fine by me," Makepeace muttered, trying to stretch as much as possible while restrained.

"You don't get a vote," Jack grumbled, dropping back into his seat. He checked his watch and answered Sam's unspoken question. "Twenty-eight minutes, Major."

"How about I save the trial cost and just throw this bastard out?"

"Major," Jack warned. "Twenty," he checked his watch again, "-seven minutes to go. Try to restrain yourself."

"Yes, sir."

By the time they landed, Jack almost wished he had given her the order to toss Makepeace to the wind.

---

They handed Makepeace over to the local SFs at the Marine base they were being housed at. After the prisoner was off their hands, Jack suggested they headed to the gym on the base and 'have a little look-see' at the competition.

"Sir? What do you mean by competition?"

"You remember that jarhead that Makepeace called? The one who got all this done oh-so-quickly? I heard he's working out at the gym as we speak."

"MacKenzie? He's here?" The revelation that the lawyer was in the gym didn't surprise Sam; it fit her mental picture of a muscular, braindead twit who probably had just enough legal sense to get Makepeace cleared. She already hated the bastard.

As they entered the gym, Sam spotted her adversary immediately. He was laying underneath about three-hundred pounds of weights, testing his grip on the bar before lifting it and holding his rippling arms straight out. His oversized biceps bulged as he held the weight high in the air, his face turning several shades of red. Finally, he began to bend his elbows and bench the bar. After five reps, he stopped and took a break to breath. A barbed wire tattoo wrapped around his left forearm, along with a skull on the opposite arm.

Jack shrugged. "Kid's stuff. I do that... on a bad day..."

Sam shook her head slightly, not smiling at her COs joke. She was bound and determined to be steel-faced when she met this bastard.

"Um, can I... can I help you?"

Sam turned to face the speaker, and felt her heart skip into her throat. The woman standing behind them was absolutely gorgeous, her shaggy black hair held back in a loose pontail that rested on her shoulders. She was wearing tiny blue shorts that revealed almost all of her perfectly tanned legs, ending in a pair of Adidas running shoes. She wore a red tank top that hugged her full breasts, cut low to show off her generous cleavage.

Her milky-chocolate eyes moved from Sam to Jack and she repeated her question. "Can I help you?"

Jack found his tongue first. "Uh, we'd like to speak to Lieutenant Colonel Mac MacKenzie, if that's possible. Ma'am." He smiled warmly.

"I'm Colonel MacKenzie. Sarah MacKenzie. Mac is just a nickname." She grinned, showing her perfect teeth.

Sam couldn't believe her ears. This... perfect specimen of womanhood was the person she had spent the entire flight from Colorado bitching about? She blinked, then said, "You're representing Colonel Robert Makepeace."

Mac flinched slightly. "I am. But... that's classified information."

"I'm Major Samantha Carter, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill."

Mac nodded knowingly. "The witnesses for the prosecution. I'm not supposed to be talking to you."

Jack scanned his eyes up and down her shapely form once more. "We just wanted to see what we were up against."

Mac smiled and moved past them. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Oh, we're not disappointed," Sam assured her. "In fact, I'm kind of glad you're the one representing him."

"Oh?" Mac smirked. "Why's that?"

Sam shrugged. "Well... someone dressing in such revealing outfits must have something to prove. Some kind of... inadequacy issues. You're making up for something, aren't you, MacKenzie?"

"Hmm, I have no idea what I'd feel inadequate about, *Major.* I'm a damn good lawyer, regardless of my body."

Jack warned, "Sam... let it go."

Sam stepped forward. "I assume you were briefed on the sensitive nature of this case?"

Mac took a step as well. "I was."

"Then how could you, in good conscience, defend what Makepeace did?"

"Maybe I see his side of it. Maybe I agree with it." The two women were now face-to-face. They were almost exactly the same height, but Sam had an advantage with the high heels she wore with her uniform.

Sam smirked, "Maybe I could pound some sense into that pretty little head of yours."

Jack stepped forward and joked, "Ladies, ladies, can we put this off until we can find a boxing ring? And maybe some Jello?"

"Sounds good to me," Mac said.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"We have a boxing ring here. Suit up, blondie." Mac winked slyly as she moved off, heading to the ring. Sam shook her head, but refused to lose face in a Marine gym. Muttering, she followed the brunette away.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And who do I see about the Jello?"

---

Since both women decided it would look and feel peculiar to be boxing in her dress uniform, Sam agreed to borrow some workout clothes from Mac's locker. The sports bra was a few sizes two large, so Sam decided to just go commando underneath the brunette's tanktop; the sleeves and neck were closed enough that no one would notice. She pulled on a pair of cutoff sweats that ended mid-thigh, showing off the muscles of her legs. 'Let this bitch know she's not messing with a pantywaste.' She smiled, admiring herself in the mirror, then picked up her gloves and headguard and headed out to the boxing ring.

As she exited the locker room, someone moved into step behind her. "Carter."

"Sir, don't tell me I shouldn't do this."

"You're a witness for the prosecution. She's the defense. This can't look good..."

"She told me that this is just between us, Sir. It won't have any bearing on the case whatsoever."

"And you're doing it because..."

Sam stepped onto the side of the ring, sliding between the ropes. "Prove a point, Sir."

Jack sighed. "Well, keep the eye of the tiger there, Rocky."

"Yes, sir."

Across the ring, Mac was leaning against the turnbuckle. She smiled when she saw Sam and adjusted her gloves. "Ready for a little brawl, Major?" The Colonel's black hair was sticking out from under her headguard, the long strands framing her face beautifully. The red tank top was gone, replaced by a jogging bra.

Sam closed her eyes, covering her staring by rubbing the back of her glove against her forehead. Finally she looked up and met the brunette's eyes. "Ready." She turned and asked Jack, "Could you ring the bell, Sir?"

Jack sighed and nodded.

Mac hit her gloves together and said, "Well, Major?" she emphasized Sam's rank once more, speaking it like a derogatory term. "How do six rounds sound?"

"One round, ten minutes," Sam said. "Winner takes all."

Mac shrugged. "I was going to give you a chance to get me all tired out... suit yourself." She slipped the mouthguard in, adjusting her lips and teeth around the plastic. Sam did the same.

Jack rang the bell.

Mac was the first to move, swinging a quick jab to Sam's chin. Sam moved to back away, give herself room to maneuver and got the blow on the tip of her nose. She shook her head, a little flustered by what could have been a fatal blow and backed up, dancing around to Mac's side. When the colonel turned, Sam pounded her glove forward and caught the brunette on the left side of her face. Mac was caught off-guard and thrown against the ropes. She corrected quickly, shaking her head and smiling. "Ya good... bettah th'n I though'," she muttered around the mouthguard.

"Wha' are ya gonna do," Sam replied, her voice equally altered by the plastic protecting her teeth. "Talk me ta deaf?"

Mac lunged, faking with the right as she brought the left around. She fooled Sam and knocked the blonde to the side, stumbling as she tried to correct herself.

Jack sighed, dropping onto a bench that ran alongside the ring. As he watched the women fight, someone else came and sat next to him. "Hey. What's goin' on here?"

"Apparently they insulted each other and decided the best way to work it out was to beat each other senseless."

"Wow... sounds more like something a guy would do."

Jack smirked. "Yeah... but you gotta admit, it's kind of fun to watch."

"I know the brunette," the man said, "but who is the blonde?"

"Major Samantha Carter."

"Army? Or Marines?"

"Air Force."

"Sweet," the man smiled. "And you are?"

"Oh, Colonel Jack O'Neill." Even though he was still in uniform, he added, "I'm also Air Force."

"Ah. Commander Harmon Rabb. You can call me Harm, though. I'm a Navy Judge Advocate General."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. A lawyer of the sea, eh?"

"Sort of," Harm chuckled.

Sam, meanwhile had corrected herself and was prowling towards a neutral corner. Mac lunged a few times, pretending to be on the offensive. Finally, Sam broke their dance and swung blindly at Mac with her right arm. The Marine lawyer reacted too slowly and shot her left arm up to block the blow she knew was coming. The motion caught Sam's right arm, raising it into the air. Sam's shoulder was pulled slightly as her arm was lifted into the air. When she moved to correct it without dislocating her shoulder, she spun so that her back was to Mac.

Mac pulled her left arm around, locking it around Sam's neck and pulling the blonde tight against her. Mac's right arm slid around Sam's stomach and pinned their bodies together. Both women froze for a moment, then Mac said, "Looks like you'll have to give in."

Sam blinked a few times, trying to ignore the beautiful woman's body pressing against her back. "Looks like this is some kind of no-rules boxing," she said, her back becoming warmed by the contact with the lawyer. "I can do no-rules..." With that, she brought her sneaker down on Mac's foot.

Mac released Sam and the blonde broke free, rubbing her glove against her injured shoulder. "Ouch... shit," she muttered.

"Problem with the shoulder?" Mac asked.

Sam paused for a moment, trying to determine whether that was genuine concern she heard in the other woman's voice. "Yeah," she muttered. "Fell off of my bike the other day. Just kind of tore up the shoulder..." Mac's eyes darted momentarily to the blonde's chest. Sam realized that the workout had probably caused her braless state to become extremely evident.

"Ouch," Mac said, faking another jab. "Don't think you're getting off on that technicality, though."

Sam faked another blow as well, taking another look at Mac's eyes. The lawyer was actually here for fun. Sam, on the other hand, had entered the ring determined to knock all of this bitch's pretty teeth out. This whole thing was for fun. That's why Mac said it held no bearing on the case.

Sam dropped her gloves. "God... I'm an idiot." She was covered with sweat, her entire torso soaked and the tank top clinging to her body. Her breasts heaved, her nipples poking against the soaked material. One leg of her shorts was bunched up near her crotch, revealing almost her entire leg. She held her gloves out and said, "Truce?"

Mac gently touched Sam's gloves with her own. "Truce."

Sam sighed, walking to the ropes and slipping out. As she made her way to the lockers, Jack rose and started following her. He noticed that Harm had moved to talk to Mac.

"Sam? You okay?"

"It wasn't about Makepeace, Sir. She... she just wanted to *box.* I'm such an idiot. She was playing with me the entire time."

Jack shrugged. "C'mon, Carter. Why're you getting so bent out of shape about this thing?"

Sam sighed. "I... can't really explain it, Sir. I'm sorry." She turned and disappeared into the lockers.

Jack shook his head and went back to the ring to talk to Harm and Mac.

Chapter Two

The base had offered private, on-base headquarters but she and Jack had refused. She had spent far too many nights in government-issued quarters at the SGC. Now that she had the chance to stay at a hotel - on her own dime - she was going to take advantage.

She wore MacKenzie's workout clothes back to the hotel, not wanting to put the dress uniform on over her sweaty body. As she entered the suite she had ordered, she pulled off her tank top and kicked the door shut. She tossed the sweaty material aside and laid on top of the blankets wearing only her sneakers and shorts. The air conditioning was cool against her bare torso, causing her nipples to slowly react to the change of temperature. She closed her eyes, wanting to just take a quick cat nap before showering and getting dressed for her meeting with Jack. He had suggested dinner and she had been too exhausted to refuse.

When she woke, the sun had vanished from the window and the room was bathed in darkness. Sitting up, she realized her skin was dry and sticky from the dried sweat. In a word, she reeked. Groaning, she checked the clock. If she ran downstairs as is (which would cause quite a stir, she believed) she would only be an hour and twenty minutes late.

She picked up the phone and dialed Jack's cell, hoping he wasn't too angry at her. He answered on the third ring. "O'Neill."

"Sir! I'm so sorry... I fell asleep and..."

"Don't worry about it, Carter!" From the sound of his voice and the background on the phone, he was still downstairs in the bar. "I met a delightful young girl at a bar and we're heading back to her room when the drinks get here." There was a pause, and then he laughed, "Don't wait up, Carter." He disconnected the phone and Sam gently replaced the receiver.

She ran a hand through her recently trimmed blonde hair and thought about how to kill her evening. It was almost too late to really eat dinner and she hadn't gone to bed this early since she was eight. Finally, she picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

After one ring, a mechanical voice said, "We're sorry, the number you have dialed must be preceeded by a one or a zero, and then..."

Sam hung up, stopping the abrasive recording before it could finish, then picked up again. She dialed the one, the area code, then the number. On the third ring, a gentle voice said, "Fraiser residence, this is Janet."

"Hi, Janet. I'm not calling too late, am I?"

"No! Of course not! What's going on, you can't be back already!"

"I'm actually calling from my hotel in DC. Just wanted to check up on you guys." Sam looked down, realizing her state of undress. Her body was starting to respond to the sound of Janet's voice. The response wasn't unpleasant... but the situation was. "How's Cassandra?"

"She's not talking, stays in her room until all hours and thinks I'm the biggest moron on the planet. In other words--"

"Typical Teen Terror," Sam smiled, reciting the name she and Janet had for their adopted daughter. Sam felt a pang of sadness at that thought. 'I work with her, I raise a daughter with her... why can't I just *tell* her how I feel?' "And you?"

"I'm just fine and dandy, miss. For someone who, you know, didn't get a fancy invitation to Washington, DC."

"Is that a whine I hear? Besides, what would your many suitors do if you packed up and left town?"

"Suitors, right. When you find one of those, send him over."

Sam closed her eyes. 'If I had my way, love, you would be put on a pedestal and given parades every day.' "I'll be sure to do that. How are Daniel and Teal'c dealing with downtime?"

"Daniel disappeared into a lab with some kind of stone tablet. I think he's working on becoming the next Moses. Teal'c, on the other hand, has been kind of a non-entity around here. We think he's in his quarters performing some kind of ancient Jaffa ritual, but who's to say..."

Sam sighed, "I leave town and the whole SGC is at a stand-still."

"On the contrary," Janet reported. She proceeded to launch into some base gossip that she had overhead since Sam's departure the day before.

Sam laid back on the mattress, closing her eyes and imagining she was in the same room with Janet. Many nights sharing gossip gave her a clear mental picture of the petite doctor; she was probably sitting in her favorite purple recliner, her feet draped over the side wearing socks, but no shoes. The phone was cradled between her right ear and her shoulder while she thumbed through a magazine that had come in the mail the day before. Her hair was probably down - Sam loved it when Janet loosened her hair - and her make-up was either off or minutes away from being washed off. Sitting on the table next to the chair would be either a pint of Mint Chocolate Chip or a bottle of ice water, depending on what the scale read that morning.

Sam smiled at the mental image, then said, "Well, I better go before I spend all of my hazard pay."

"Like you won't be earning more soon," Janet scoffed.

"But if you're sure you don't have anything else to say..."

Hell, yes, there was something else she wanted to say. She wanted to say, 'I love you more than life itself and would risk my entire career, even my life, just to be holding you when you fall asleep tonight.' Instead, she paraphrased and said, "Nope. Just wanted to see what you had to say."

"Well, I guess I'll see you in about... two weeks?"

"That's about how long my part is supposed to last."

"Great! See you then! Love ya!"

Sam winced. It was something that Janet said at the end of every phone call. As the phone disconnected on the opposite end, Sam cradled the receiver and whispered, "I love you, too..."

She held the phone like a talisman until the sharp beeping provoked her to finally hang up. She looked at the phone for a second, then picked up the receiver once more. This time she remembered the one and the area code.

"Thank you for calling The Wishing Well. My name is Ryan, how may I help you?" The bar was located near Colorado Springs and one that she frequented to find companionship without worrying about military regulations.

"Hey, Ry. How're the hot wings today?"

"Sam! Hot wings are excellent! Where you at, girl?"

"Washington. DC, not the state. I'm, uh... looking for some companionship, if you catch my meaning." She sighed. "I use to know all the excellent places around here." The nation's capital was her old stomping ground, where she had worked to make the Stargate project a reality. Unfortunately, she had checked before flying out and discovered her favorite 'don't ask, don't tell' bar had been shut down for health violations. "Any suggestions?"

"Gotcha," Ryan said. "If you're looking for a good ol' one-night stand, you wanna check out The Mess. You need the address?"

"I got a phone book... I'll find it. Thanks, Ryan."

"Yeah... hey, if you ever decide to take a detour on the other side of the fence..."

"You're the first one on my list, honey."

"Promises, promises," Ryan chuckled before hanging up.

The inside joke between them was that Ryan was about as straight as a male interior designer at a George Michael concert. Sam stood and headed for the bathroom, preparing to take a long, steaming shower before heading out to the bar.

She stripped off the clothes and kicked the sneakers into the corner. She despised knowing that she would have to see Mac again to return the clothes, but she didn't let it bother her. She climbed into the shower and lathered herself up with the strawberry-scented shampoos and soaps provided by the hotel. As she shampooed with the bottle she had brought from home, her thoughts began to drift to the first time she had used strawberry soaps. Janet had caught a whiff, which prompted her to sniff Sam's neck for an incredibly long two seconds. Sam had been forced to find an empty office and cool off for a few minutes after that.

As Sam got dressed after her shower, she thought back to her life before Janet. She had been attracted to women, sure... but she'd never gone out to a bar for the express purpose of finding one, bedding one, then setting one free. She'd never been a one-night stand kind of girl until she fell for a straight, once-married Air Force doctor. Sexual frustration makes you do odd things...

Sam sighed and pulled her leather jacket on. An ex-girlfriend had once said leather on Samantha Carter should have been declared a lethal weapon. A group of others had eventually concurred. Sam pulled it on, wondering when she had gone from Sam the Prude to Sam the Slut. She found the address of The Mess in the phone book and headed out.

---

The Mess was located outside of DC, across the Potomac in suburban Virginia. It was set up inside of an old warehouse that had been renovated and fixed up into a club. The cab manuevered it's way through the parking lot and finally found it's way to the front door. As Sam peeled off a couple of bills for the driver, he looked around at the area. Other than the club, it was in the middle of nowhere. "Hey, miss. You want I should stay?"

"No thanks," she said, handing him the fare plus a sizable tip. "I'm planning to get a ride home from someone inside." She smiled sweetly and climbed out, watching as the cab left the parking lot. She turned, scanning the multitude of cars parked outside. '8:30 on a Thursday... not a bad turn-out.' She pulled the large steel door open and stepped inside. A large bouncer stood inside, blocking a second door which led into the actual club.

"Identification?" he said, his voice booming in the small entryway.

Sam felt around inside of her pocketbook and came out with a small base ID. The bouncer examined it, then smiled. "Welcome to The Mess, Major. And don't worry. We practice the upmost privacy with our clientele." He stood and opened the door, ushering her in with a beaming smile.

She returned the smile and stepped inside.

The Mess was huge; she was standing on a landing with a flight of stairs leading down on either side. Below, tables were set up where groups of people sat and drank. She even saw a few trays of hot wings. Dance floors were set on platforms to her left and right, both filled almost to capacity with gyrating bodies.

Blue and purple and yellow lights danced across the entire interior, causing Sam to think she had just stepped back in time and found Studio 54. As she walked down the stairs to the dining area, she saw what had been set up on the ground floor between the dance platforms. Pool tables. She smiled broadly and headed towards them. 'If I can't get lucky in love, maybe I can hustle a couple of unsuspecting jarheads,' she thought, optimistically.

A group of six tables were set up, two rows with three tables each. She peeled off her leather jacket and tossed it over her shoulder, approaching the closest empty table. A redheaded woman and her lover or girlfriend were leaning on the opposite side, watching another game. Sam picked up a cue stick and racked up the balls. The woman turned and watched as Sam lined up her shot. She stuck the tip of her tongue between her lips, shoting with an effort that came only with practice.

The cue ball shot into the center pocket.

Sam straightened and beamed. "Is that good?"

The redhead was also smiling. "Your first time, sweetheart?"

Sam's smile faltered. "You can tell?"

The redhead picked up a cue. "You know, I could teach you. Unfortunately, this place has a little rule concerning the tables."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Five dollars per person. Per ball."

"Per ball?" Sam said. "That's... ten dollars a ball."

"Right."

Sam looked at the table and counted each ball. "Whoo... that's a lot of money."

The redhead shrugged. "C'mon. It'll be worth it to learn what to do next time."

Sam gave in. "Okay... but can I hit the balls first?"

"You mean break?"

"Um... does that mean I can hit first?"

The redhead laughed. "It most assuredly does. Go ahead and hit first." She settled onto a stool, then said, "By the way, my name is Tasha."

"Hi, Tasha," Sam smiled. "I'm Samantha." She hit the cue ball and the balls scattered. Three went into one corner pocket, while two more disappeared into opposite side pockets.

Tasha's eyes widened, then she broke into a smile. "I'll be damned. I believe I've been hustled, Mirabelle," she said to her girlfriend.

"C'mon," Sam smiled. "It'll be worth it to learn what to do next time."

Tasha laughed out loud and laid her cue on the next table. "I won't be needed this, will I?"

"Not if you're playing me," Sam winked.

---

Five hundred dollars and two hours later, Sam finally broke away from the tables. She had won every game she played and decided it was time to share the wealth.

The last person she had beaten was a twenty-something Asian girl with her hair dyed sky blue. Sam winked at the girl before leaving the tables, making her way across the floor to the bar. As she ordered a drink, she turned to scan the club once more. Several things had changed in the two hours she had been playing pool. The multi-colored lights were now dancing with less strength, replaced by a steady beam of soft blue light on the dance floors. The tables were mostly full now, mostly with couples making out or whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Sam turned back to the bar when her drink arrived, thanking the beautiful bartender and watching as she walked away. 'Damn,' she thought. 'Between Tasha, Maribelle, the blue-haired girl and the lawyer bit... Colonel MacKenzie, I think I may ask Hammond to move the 'gate here.'

She was finished up the drink when she felt a gentle tapping on her shoulder. She turned and saw the blue-haired girl standing behind her, a wide smile on her face. "Hello. I'm Ocean."

"How convenient," Sam said, indicating the hair.

"Yes, quite."

They looked at each other in quiet consideration for a moment before Sam spoke. "Um, is there something you wanted?"

Ocean let her eyes wander Sam's body for a moment, then said, "Several things. But there is something I thought you should know."

"Yes?"

"Your pool championship is being threatened. Our resident hustler has shown up."

"Oh? And you think she'll destroy my record?"

"I know she will. No one is willing to play her... but if you step up, I am sure you can hustle her. Pretend to be the innocent young novice. It fooled Tasha."

"It did, didn't it?" Sam smiled.

"Maybe if you beat her at her own game, she will stop being such a bitch about how good she is."

Sam grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

As she slipped off the stool, Ocean grabbed Sam's face and brought their lips together in a smoldering kiss. Sam moaned into the younger girl's mouth, her hands wandering over the girl's black bustier. When they broke for air, Ocean pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and pressed it into Sam's palm. "If you play her, she usually changes the bets from money to sex. I know you'll be going home with her tonight... but if you're ever back in town..."

Sam kissed the girl again. "I'll be sure to look you up. I love the Ocean."

Ocean winked. "Wait 'til you see my girlfriend, Sea. She'd love you." She walked off, shaking her hips seductively as she did.

Sam caught her breath and made her way back to the pool tables.

A new crowd had gathered to watch this resident hustler look for patsies. As Sam tried to work her way through the crowd, a man who had watched her earlier smiled. "Hey, we got a competitor for ya! Ready, willing and able!"

Sam smiled as people began to notice her trying to slip through. They parted, giving her a path to the pool tables. "Okay, okay, where's this all-powerful hustler?"

She froze. The hustler that everyone warned her about was sitting on one of the middle pool tables. She was holding a pool stick between her legs as she chalked the end. The woman was wearing a barely-there mini-skirt that would probably flash the entire room when she bent to shoot. She had a pair of knee-high leather boots that shone like new in the artifical light of the pool area. Her black bra was visible underneath the fishnet blouse she wore.

Sam finally found her voice and said, "C-Colonel MacKenzie."

"Nope," she said, smiling widely. "Here, I'm either Mac or Sarah." She slipped off the table and approached Sam. "I prefer Sarah. Do you wanna play?"

"Depends," Sam said, getting her nerve back. "Do you want to lose?"

The crowd roared.

As they faced off, unbidden images began to roll through her mind. Sarah in the tight tank top. Sarah's breasts pressing into her back. The heat from the other woman's body...

Sarah's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Ooh, we've got ourselves a real spit-fire here. What do you want to play for, Miss Samantha?"

"Hundred bucks for the first game. Then... we'll see what kind of bets appeal to us."

"Sounds interesting," Sarah said. "Rack 'em up."

Sam walked to the row of pool cues. As she picked one up, she felt Sarah approach her from behind. In a low voice, so no one else would hear, she whispered, "I noticed you weren't wearing a bra earlier... in the ring... Are you wearing one now?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Sam teased, picking a cue and turning to face the other woman. Her adversary was flushed. Sam grinned and said, "You ready to play?"

"Oh, yeah," Sarah said breathlessly.

---

Three games had been completed. The fourth was one ball away from being won.

Sarah had won two games. Sam had one under her belt and the final shot was hers.

The crowd on the dance floors had gathered around the railing, peering down at the spectacle that was unfolding below them.

Sam was poised to make her final, victorious shot, when Sarah said, "Wait!"

Sam looked up. "Scared of losing?"

"Not that. Let's just make this a little more interesting." She leaned on the table, her arms pressing her breasts together. "You make this shot, I go home with you."

Sam tore her eyes away from the colonel's cleavage and raised her eyebrows. "And if I miss it?"

"You're out of luck."

Sam's heart rate quickened at those words. She narrowed her eyes, lined the shot up perfectly, and prayed to the Pool Gods for one perfect shot. She slid the pool cue back and, with careful skill, moved it forward again. She bit her lip as the cue ball rolled away. Whatever happened now was fate. Pure and simple. No turning back.

It rolled effortlessly towards the black demon with an 8 printed on the side. It rolled effortlessly past the black demon with an 8 printed on it.

Sam's heart stopped as the cue ball bounced against the side of the corner pocket... and fell in. She closed her eyes. She had lost.

Sarah sighed. "Ah, well. I guess no one goes home with anyone."

Sam was heartbroken to hear those words. She had wanted the brunette colonel since she laid eyes on her. Now, she was...

"Oh, drat. I have to pick up my clothes from your hotel room anyway."

Sam looked up.

"I guess, since I'm going anyway," she looked up, locking eyes with Sam. "That is, if you want company tonight."

Sam dropped her cue to the floor, picked up her jacket and grabbed Sarah's hand. "Lead the way, Sarah."

They fought their way through the crowd as if their lives depended on it.

Chapter Three

Sam followed Mac blindly out of the club, her eyes trained on the other woman's rear as it swayed beneath the material of her skirt. She couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment during the game when her feelings had shifted from anger to lust, but then again, she really didn't care to pinpoint the moment. She licked her lips, anxious to get this woman home and nude. They passed the bouncer who flashed her a knowing smile before holding the door open. "You ladies have a wonderful evening," he said.

Mac reached back, wrapping an arm around Sam's neck as she said, "It's guaranteed with me, Lesley."

As they stumbled out into the parking lot, Sam ventured a glance back at the huge black bouncer. 'Lesley,' she thought. 'A guy named Lesley *would* have to be good at throwing punches, I guess...'

But all thoughts of oddly named men vanished when she realized Mac had stopped next to a large SUV. She stopped the brunette from unlocking the door and said, "Wait... hold on." Mac turned, confused. Had this adventure already gone too far? Sam produced a set of keys. "We'll take my car. You drive." She winked, a plan forming in her mind.

As she handed the colonel the keys, Sam put her hand over Mac's. She pulled Mac across the parking lot to her rental. Without saying a word, their faces came together in a slow, gentle kiss. As their tongues touched for the first time, safe within the confines of their mouths, Sam helped Mac ease the key into the lock and slowly turn it. She broke away and said, "Can you make it to the hotel?"

She blinked, then nodded. "But only if you promise more kisses."

"I promise kisses and more," Sam said, brushing a stray hair out of Mac's face.

The front seat wasn't separated, so Sam was able to slide in to the passenger side without leaving Mac's side. As the brunette climbed in, she was startled to find Sam's hand resting underneath her. She squirmed on the hand, smiling at Sam as she put the key in the ignition. "Where are you staying, exactly?"

Sam told her and Mac pulled out of the space. "Damn," Mac muttered. "That's almost a twenty minute drive." Sam moved across the seat, cuddling against Mac's side and slipped her hand over the bare skin above the colonel's boot. Mac's thigh was warm and tensed gently as Sam's hand came in contact with it.

"Wha... what're you doing?" Mac said, trying like hell to concentrate on the road in front of them. Sam didn't answer, just slid her hand higher until it came in contact with the hem of the brunette's skirt. "In the car?" Mac whispered.

"You'd rather wait until we were at the hotel?" Sam grinned, pulling at the material of the skirt and gently pulling it up. She could see Mac's panties, but in the darkness she couldn't tell if they were black or just dark-colored.

Sam's hand trailed across the moist material, moving from the left thigh to the right. Mac gasped sharply as Sam's fingers came in fleeting contact with her center.

"Please," Mac gasped.

Sam turned her attention to the road as she returned her fingers to the lace barrier that protected the colonel's slit. Without bothering to look down, Sam bit her lip and hooked her thumb and forefinger under the crotch of the panties. Mac gasped, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Oh, God... don't stop..."

Sam chuckled, "You actually think I was planning on stopping?"

Sam's middle and forefinger had now taken residence beneath the lace underwear. Sam watched as a light a few yards ahead of them turned red. Glancing at Mac, her face lightly sheened with sweat, Sam dipped her two fingers into the colonel. She was only inside the other woman's wetness for a second, but the result was lasting.

Mac almost saw the red light too late and slammed on her brakes. Luckily, there were no other cars on the street. Mac rolled her head back, resting it on the headrest. "I can see the incident report now," she gasped. "Distracted while beautiful blonde played between my legs."

"Beautiful," Sam chuckled. "That earns you some points."

Sam leaned forward, placing several butterfly kisses on Mac's cheek before nibbling on her earlobe. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of green. "Go," she whispered.

Mac slammed her foot down on the gas, causing the Corvette to lurch forward and speed through the intersection. As they passed under the light, Mac noticed that it was still red. "I'm a lawbreaker, thanks to you..."

She moved her foot from the gas to the brake, the motion inadvertently causing her legs to move closer together. This caused Sam's hand to be caught, pressed hotly against the colonel's dripping slit.

Mac groaned. "Please, Sam... I want this as much as you do, but if you don't get your hand out, I'm going to wreck this damn car..."

"S'okay," Sam chuckled. "I got the insurance."

Mac glared at her and Sam pulled away, obedient. As her hand slipped out from between Mac's legs, she noticed the glisten that her fingers had acquired. Slowly, she brought the wet hand to her lips and inserted her index finger into her mouth. She was planning on closing her eyes, faking a moan of approval. The plan was tossed, however, when she moaned in actual pleasure. The brunette lawyer tasted, in a word, incredible. It was manna, as far as Sam was concerned. She eagerly sucked the other finger into her mouth, sucking it dry as well.

Once both digits were cleansed, Sam looked hungrily at Mac's lap. "I'm going to enjoy tasting that..."

Mac blushed, looking down at Sam's jeans and obviously wishing she could return the favor. "How much... uh, how much longer until the hotel, d'ya think?"

Sam looked out the window. "Just around this block and a few doors up."

Mac pressed down the accelerator.

"Whoa, there, Bandit," Sam laughed. "What if a cop stops us?"

"I know a couple of Marine lawyers that can help us out," she winked. She turned the corner, luckily not side-swiping any cars. Mac found the hotel, pulling into the underground garage. She quickly found an empty space, pulling into it and squealing the tires as she hit the brakes.

The two women jumped out of the car, dashing across the garage. As they stepped into the access elevator, both locked in on the door as if it were a million-dollar prize.

They burst into the lobby when the elevator dinged, barely waiting for the doors to slide open fully, and Sam made her way to the desk, checking in quickly before making her way back to Mac. "Well? You comin' or not?" Sam smiled.

"Lead the way, gorgeous."

"Ooh, gorgeous. With that and your 'beautiful' comment earlier, you're really adding up the brownie points, aren't ya?"

As the elevator doors opened again, Mac winked, "I'm planning on cashing in each and every one of them tonight."

As soon as they were once again safe in the elevators, the women came together like magnets. As they kissed, Mac's hands were busy exploring the curves and contours of Sam's body.

Sam, meanwhile, had moved her hands down to Mac's waist and slipped under the waistband of her skirt. She squeezed the globes of the colonel's ass as Mac finally locked in on her breasts and massaged them through the green sweater. Mac chuckled, breaking the kiss as she looked down at the fuzzy material. "Only you would wear a sweater like this to The Mess."

"Why is that," Sam whispered, kissing the soft skin below Mac's ear.

"You, ah... makes you look like a prude."

"Got you, didn't I?" Sam asked rhetorically as she slipped one hand between Mac's legs. The brunette gasped and lifted her left leg, wrapping it around the blonde's hip. They lost their balance and fell.

Mac's back pressed against the wall as Sam continued her assault on the brunette's throat. Finally, Mac glanced at the lit numbers above the door. "We're... we're not moving."

Sam turned and looked. They had neglected to hit a floor button and the doors had slid shut automatically. Apparently no one else in the hotel had pressed a button, because they were stationary at the lobby. Sam groaned, reaching out and punching the button for the third floor. "We'll continue this upstairs."

"Damn well better," Mac said, reluctantly peeling her hands off of Sam's breasts.

---

Now it was Sam's turn to fumble with the keys.

When the door was finally shoved open, Sam was forced to enter backward by the brunette pushing against her. They were locked in another passionate kiss, their hands working feverishly to undo buttons, zippers and any kind of catches they came across. Once they were inside, Mac spun and pressed Sam against the wall. She pulled back, letting her gaze trace the contours of Sam's body beneath the clothes.

Sam grabbed Mac's hand, squeezing it gently. "Make love to me."

"With pleasure," Mac rasped. She knelt, reaching down and untying the blonde's boot with insane precision.

"God," Sam muttered. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Driving you crazy," Mac grinned. "Working?"

"Yes..."

"Good." Mac pulled the boot off of Sam's foot, carefully setting it against the baseboard. She moved to the other boot and removed it with the same excrutiating slowness. When both of Sam's feet were clad in nothing but socks, she wiggled her toes. Mac backed away slowly and began to trace her hands over Sam's legs, feeling the heat of the blonde's skin through the denim. When she reached the crotch area, she skipped over it and moved her hands to the belt buckle.

She pulled it loose and slid the ends of the belt apart, leaning in and taking the button between her teeth.

Sam gasped, "Ooh, you're crazy..."

Mac ignored the comment, effortlessly pulling the button free and then proceeding to bite down on the zipper. Once the catches were undone, Mac pressed her hands against Sam's hips and slid the material away. Sam wriggled slightly, assisting in the removal. As the jeans pooled around her ankles, Mac took the time to admire Sam's bare legs. "God," she muttered, tracing the fine muscles of the blonde's upper thigh. "I've wanted to touch these since I saw them in the gym this morning..."

Her voice barely louder than a breath, Sam whispered, "Touch them..."

Mac, never one to back down from an order, gently splayed her fingers over the warm flesh of Sam's thigh, prompting a sigh from the major. As her hands eagerly moved upward on the major's thighs, Mac's attention was locked straight ahead; at the pair of white cotton panties directly in front of her.

More importantly, she was riveted by the wet spot gathering near the crux of the pretty blonde's legs. Her hands had reached the straps of the panties and Mac hooked her thumbs under them. With one deft move, she pulled away the thin material and lowered her head. In almost the same second the cotton was pulled down, Mac's lips were locked on Sam clitoris.

Sam gasped, her hands searching the wall for something, anything to hold herself upright with. She settled on the doorknob to the closet.

Mac released Sam's clit, extending her tongue to dance across the blonde's now-dripping netherlips. She gathered as much of the juices as she could, swallowing them eagerly before pulling herself up.

The two women were the same height, eye-to-eye with each other. Both were breathless. Mac's lips and chin glistened in the soft light filtering in through the window. Their eyes locked for a moment while they tried to control their breathing. Mac took one step back, wrapping her hands in the hem of Sam's sweater and pulling the material up and over the blonde's head.

Sam was now dressed in only her bra, while Mac was still fully-clothed in the sexy outfit she had been wearing at the club. Taking the brunette's hand, Sam stepped out of her jeans and panties, pausing only to lift her feet and peel away her socks before leading her new lover to the bed and gently pushing her onto the mattress. Mac's legs were hanging over the side, bent at the knee so that her leather boots touched the floor.

After taking a moment to admire the view of Sarah MacKenzie sprawled on her bed, Sam remembered there was a goal to attain and dropped to her knees. She found the small zipper on the inside of Mac's boot and slid it down, working the slick material away from Mac's skin. Once her foot was free, Sam tossed the boot aside and repeated the process on the other one. Kneeling between Mac's legs, Sam looked up and caught a glimpse of her lover's panties. By now, they had to be soaked through.

Sam lifted the colonel's leg, bending it at the knee and resting the foot on her shoulder. Keeping her eyes locked on Mac's, she began to slowly kiss down the heated skin of the brunette's thigh. Finally, she reached the hem of the skirt. She let the imprisoned leg drop and Mac rested it over Sam's shoulder.

The blonde smiled, pushing up the material of Mac's dress and gazing at the panties. In this somewhat brighter light, she saw that they were blue. "Air Force blue," Sam whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing, dear," Sam said, lowering her lips to kiss Mac through the panties.

Mac half-moaned, half-growled as Sam spread her lips, and tongued her clitoris through the lacy material. When she could take no more of the teasing, she raised her head off the mattress and growled, "Those come off, you know."

Sam looked at the colonel, feigning shock. "Do they?" She moved her hands up and worked the panties away to reveal the glistening, shaven lips of Mac's center. "Well, what do you know?" she said. She moved Mac's leg off of her shoulder just long enough to remove the panties, then lowered her head again and inhaled the sweet scent of the brunette's juices. She recalled the taste she had gotten in the car and trembled as she extended her tongue and gently stroked the flat of her tongue against the brunette's swollen lips.

Sam moaned, causing a reaction in Mac as the vibrations rumbled across her clit. Sam felt herself getting wet once more just from the taste of Mac's juices.

When the flow increased, Sam abandoned her tongue-ministrations and moved up Mac's torso. No use in letting her climax too early. She traced her fingers over the fishnet material of the brunette's top. "Is this expensive?"

She shook her head no.

"Can it be replaced?"

"Easily," Mac breathed.

Satisfied that the move was acceptable, Sam gripped the blouse and pulled it apart. Mac gasped, still shocked by the move even though she had more or less allowed it. Sam slipped the ruined blouse over Mac's shoulders and then down her arms, helping the brunette toss it aside.

Mac rolled, pinning Sam beneath her. With the blonde flat on her back, Mac reached down and unzipped her skirt. She slid off of Sam, stepping to the floor just long enough to peel away the skirt.

When she straddled Sam's hips once more, they were in an equal state of undress; both wore only their bras.

Sam looked longingly at Mac's heaving chest. "Clasp?"

"In the back," Mac said. "You?"

"Front."

They both reached to undo the other's bra, then fell back with a laugh. To avoid tangling themselves, they mutually decided to undo their own. Mac reached behind herself as Sam found the catch in the valley of her breasts. They popped them both open at the same time and their eyes locked. Mac grinned, "Three."

"Two..."

"Now."

They peeled away the final article of clothing, revealing their nude bodies to each other. Mac reached down, tracing one of Sam's pink nipples with her thumb, licking her lips as she watched it slowly stand to attention.

Sam was too occupied with Mac's breasts to notice. The colonel had small, brown nipples that she could cover almost completely with her thumb. She sat up, forcing Mac to abandon her exploration and wrap her arms around her shoulders.

They kissed, instantly comfortable in their nudity. Sam had never felt so at ease with any of her other lovers. Sam could feel the heat emanating from the smooth, shaved skin of Mac's crotch on her own wet slit. As their tongues dueled for dominance, Sam slipped a hand between their overheated bodies and found Mac's clitoris, rolling the nub between her forefinger and thumb.

Mac gasped, laying her head on Sam's shoulder and deciding that turnabout was fair play. She slipped her hand under Sam's arm, sliding it around and over the blonde's butt to slip between her legs from behind. Sam gasped as she felt Mac's fingers invading. She hadn't expected such a bold move... she was glad she had finally found someone who would take the initiative.

Deciding that the clit was sufficiently rubbed, Sam proceeded to slide two fingers over the entrance to Mac's gleaming core. The brunette gasped, biting Sam's shoulder gently.

In retrospect, Sam didn't know if it was subtle coordination or just dumb luck, but both women decided to thrust their fingers at the same time. The intrusion caused a gasp from each woman, their bodies pressing tighter together. Sam looked down, seeing the lightly tanned flesh of Mac's magnificent breasts pressed tightly against her own.

She closed her eyes, somehow finding Mac's lips and covering them in a hungry kiss.

As Mac pumped her fingers into her, Sam broke the kiss and began to moan as an orgasm rolled through the pit of her stomach, rolling towards her groin. She clutched at Mac's shoulders, not willing to abandon her own thrusting. Sam was just beginning to climax when Mac released a howl from low in her throat and began to moisten Sam's hand and lower stomach. Sam exploded, grabbing Mac and pulling the brunette close. The feel of Mac's juices on her skin was too much and she began to pant, "Oh, God... oh... oh, yes, Janet, yes... oh... oh, God..."

They rocked against each other, their limbs intertwined and locked together in a passionate puzzle. Finally, they were forced to drop onto their sides and untangle, laying face-to-face on the large double bed. There was no post-coital conversation as both women passed out from exhaustion the moment their heads hit the pillow.

---

Sam woke at 5:41, according to the bedside clock. Mac was curled against her back, one arm draped possessively across her stomach.

Careful not to disturb her sleeping lover, Sam rolled over to face her. To Sam's surprise, the brunette was wide awake. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi, Mac. Don't you know what time it is? You should be resting."

'It's 5:41," Mac said, matter-of-factly. "And I did sleep."

"How'd you see the clock?"

"I didn't. It's a knack I have," she smiled, stroking Sam's cheek and brushing a stray hair that was resting on the blonde's forehead. "How did you sleep?"

"Great," Sam smiled, tracing her finger up and down Mac's upper arm. "You?"

"Excellent." They were silent for a few minutes, just staring at each other. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Who is Janet?"

"Anything but that," Sam said, her smile faltering. "How do you know Janet's name?"

"You..." Mac looked at Sam's breasts. "You called it out when you were..."

"Oh, God... Mac, I apologize. I'm..."

"No," Mac said. "It's not that I'm jealous or anything. We both know this can't go further. I'm just... curious if I'm the other woman. The one you boff while on vacation, then go home to the steady girlfriend and tell her how much you love her."

"It's not that," Sam promised. "Nothing like that. It's just that... Janet is the doctor on the project I work on. She's a captain in the Air Force... and she's straight."

"Ah..."

"She's been married before, makes it perfectly clear that she's scouting for a new *boy*friend... I've been trying to get over her ever since I met her."

"Have you ever asked her about these feelings?"

Sam scoffed, "Me major, she captain. All Air Force. That kind of conversation is generally frowned-upon."

Mac sat up. "Then make it off the record. She's your friend, right?"

Sam nodded.

"And you talk to her about everything? Well, except for your feelings..."

"Right."

Mac stroked Sam's cheek. "Tell her," she whispered. "If she feels differently, the hope won't be filling your mind. And, if she does, you'll have your deepest desire come true." She laid back down and rested her head on Sam's breast. "Rest now, love. We have a mutual appointment today at eight am."

Sam stroked Mac's hair. "I... Mac, if I were stationed here, or..."

"Sam," she interrupted. "I... think it's best if what you're about to say went unfinished."

Sam was quiet as they lay next to each other in the hotel bed, watching the sun come up through the window. When Mac finally decided sleep would be impossible and climbed out of bed, Sam watched her naked back disappear into the bathroom. Once the door was closed, Sam pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "I could love you, too."

She rocked slowly as the sun continued to climb on the other side of the glass.

Epilogue

Two weeks after the one-night stand, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie followed the horde of observers out of the courtroom, keeping her head low. As she headed down the hallway, she kept her eyes downcast. She was hoping to make it to her car without running into the blonde bombshell that was Samantha Carter.

She exited the building, stepping into the bright sunlight of Washington, DC, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her jacket pocket and slipping them on.

"About time you came out," came a familiar voice from behind her.

Mac turned. "Sam... I thought you had already left."

Sam pushed away from her perch, approaching slowly. The two women stood a few feet apart, both in their dress uniforms, each looking at the other's shoes. "Hoped, you mean. Hoped I had already left."

"That too."

"I had to see you again... before I left."

"See me... as in...?"

"No," Sam shook her head. "No, I think that would be too painful. I just wanted to say good-bye." She extended a hand.

Mac smiled slightly. "Professionals again, eh?"

"Respected professionals. Colleagues. Friends."

Mac took the extended hand, smiling. "I can live with that."

Sam took a quick glance around before stepping forward. She wrapped an arm around Mac's waist, pulling the brunette's body forward and crushing her mouth in a searching kiss. When they broke, the blonde took a step back and exhaled sharply.

"Whoo," Mac said, blinking. "That was..."

"It was," Sam smiled. "I'll stop by next time I'm in DC... okay?"

"Perfect. And the next time I'm in Colorado..."

"Better call first," Sam warned. "Top secret and all that."

Mac grinned. "Right. I'm still a little vague about what it was that Makepeace stole. It was referred to as 'the device,' the 'technology,' and so on. Maybe one day I'll coerce the truth out of you."

"I've been trained to ignore pain."

"We're not talking about *pain* torture, Major." Mac winked.

"I'll see you," Sam said, finally moving to the stairs that led to the street.

When the blonde was halfway down the stairs, Mac called out, "Sam! Wait!" The blonde turned and saw Mac coming down the stairs after her. She was digging for something in her briefcase. Finally, she produced a white envelope and handed it to Sam. "Don't open this until you're alone... on the plane."

Sam smiled, slightly confused and took it. "I'll see you again sometime, Mac."

"Call me Sarah," she winked.

"I'd like that. Good-bye, Sarah."

---

Jack O'Neill had vanished somewhere over Kansas, chasing a stewardess into coach. She had to have been something, Sam pondered, to make him leave first class for coach. She had frankly been too preoccupied to see anything but the white envelope sitting on her lap. Finally, she realized that she was alone and on the plane. She pulled the envelope open and slipped the contents out. A small slip of yellow paper landed on her lap, followed by an envelope. Sam read the note first.

"Samantha, I am glad we got to know each other. You truly are a wonderful spirit. Janet is the luckiest woman on Earth. I've included a photo to help you remember me. Love, Sarah."

Sam looked at the photo. Mac was standing on an outcropping of rocks, the ocean rolling along in the background. She was wearing a string bikini, barely holding in her curves. Her hands were together and held outward as if she were about to dive into the apparently choppy water. Her expression was one of fear and good humor. Written across the bottom was another message. 'Don't be afraid to dive in... the adventure is worth the momentary chill!'

Sam smiled and slipped the papers back into the envelope. She rested her head against the headrest, closing her eyes as she imagined Sarah MacKenzie... at home in DC... lounging in a bubble bath. She sighed, falling asleep with images of a JAG officer dancing in her head.

Before landing, however, the dreams had shifted slightly to include a beautiful brunette doctor... Sam smiled. Maybe, she promised herself. Maybe soon....

The End