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To be fair, the Colonel started it. Ever since Kara had leant her the skirt and top for the festival, Sam’s CO had been prodding her to do twirls and swishy things with the layered fabric. They way his eyes fell on her when she did gave her that nervous fluttering that was reminiscent of her 8th Grade school disco.
When it was Daniel that raised an eyebrow at her, she had stopped, blushed and kept her eyes anywhere but on O’Neill.
She didn’t need to look by then. By then she had memorised how Jack looked in the form fitting, dust coloured pants. How the soft fabric of his shirt fell over muscled shoulders and back. And the front where the deep neck showed the salt and pepper of his chest hair - well, that memory would keep her warm for many nights to come.
It annoyed her, when, after raising his eyebrow at her, Daniel was happily swept into the dancing by a rotation of young, tanned women dressed much like she was. She knew he was enjoying the festival and its delights and resented that he frowned upon her small pleasure.
Teal’c, most surprisingly, had found himself a role in the festival serving various refreshments. The job required the lifting of numerous barrels and crates and when Kara had asked him for his help, Sam had seen the way his eyes fell on her hand resting on his arm. Sam wouldn’t have been surprised to see them ‘walking out’ later on, after the children had fallen asleep and the adults’ revelry began to wane.
The Colonel found her leaning against the fence, the light from the lanterns and fires illuminating her face with a creamy glow. He had been watching her all day and wondered if, when she slid back into her good soldier persona, something had happened to dampen her spirits. It was so unusual to see Carter just enjoying herself and getting caught up in the moment. He wanted to see her that way again.
After sampling plenty of the food and drink available to all the festival goers, Sam had found a quiet spot at the edge of the crowd to regroup. Kara was busy serving, as was Teal’c, and Sam found herself wishing that she had a job to do, too. Idly wandering wasn’t her idea of a good evening. Her mind began to estimate how many years it had taken for the festival’s dancers to pound the dirt of the square into the hard, cement like surface that it had now.
It didn’t surprise her when the Colonel appeared at her elbow and leant back against the fence. There was a scent to him and today, for some reason, it was particularly strong. Perhaps it was a result of having been here for two weeks, living amongst the villagers and getting comfortable with their ways. Could comfort have a smell? Or happiness? He was certainly smiling more, which quite possibly had something to do with the village kids and the off world variation of lacrosse that they had been teaching him.
“It’s quieter, over here,” the Colonel observed.
“I needed a break,” Sam offered, “It was getting stuffy in the crowd.”
“More people came than I expected.”
“You like it here,” Sam observed, leaning more of her weight against the fence and turning so she could see the Colonel’s face in silhouette.
“I do. It reminds me of summers with my grandparents.”
“In Minnesota?”
He smiled and Sam watched the way the laugh lines on his face caught the light. This suited him, she thought, a peaceful, agrarian community. He could as easily be happy here as he was in Colorado. Maybe happier, even.
Jack turned and caught her looking at him, no, studying him, like he was a puzzle knot to be teased apart. “I’m not that complex, Carter.”
Sam started, surprised that he had possibly read her thoughts. “And my poker face ...”
“Reads like an open book,” O’Neill finished for her. Then he held out his hand. “Less thinking, more fun.”
“What kind of fun?” Sam wondered. Regardless of his intent, she badly wanted to feel his hand around hers. Whether she was hoping he would give her an acceptable excuse to take it or refuse it, she didn’t know.
“I didn’t spend all those summers learning how to square dance for nothing, Carter. C’mon, let’s go do-si-do awhile.”
Sam reached for his hand before truly thinking about the invitation, “But I don’t know how.”
Already walking towards the dancers, the Colonel turned and looked back at her. “Daniel can do it, Carter. You’ll pick it up fast enough.”
There was something about the look in his eyes that got her feet moving. He wanted to teach her, share with her, this part of his childhood. It was such a rare thing for him to open up this way that Sam found herself stumbling into the crowd of dancers with her hand in his. They quickly slotted into the circle of couples and then the Colonel has his arm about her waist and following his lead was as easy as walking in formation beside him.
The next dance was faster and more furious and Sam was thankful that they’d had the first one to warm up. As they swirled and cantered around the circle, she was forced to hold her CO tightly around the shoulders. The movements were so fast that she felt her feet lifting off the ground as Jack led them through the turns.
When the bright music came to an end, they held each other up as the exhilaration became elation and Sam laughed. The Colonel wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her tight to his chest, until she could both hear and feel the rumbling laughter low in his chest.
The band began the next song and O’Neill straightened, releasing his hold on her and Sam felt disappointment temper her elevated mood as she too remembered who they were.
“Another?” He asked.
“A drink,” Sam suggested.
“I’ll get it,” the Colonel offered and, when she nodded, began to weave his way through the crowd.
Some distance between them was probably a good idea. They were wary of being alone in social situations for this very reason.
“You’re thinking again,” his low voice at her ear made her hair stand on end. When she jumped, he leant his arm into hers, touching her from shoulder to elbow. “Sorry,” he said, handing her a mug of the sharp and sweet juice on offer for the evening.
“Can’t help it, Sir,” Sam replied, gesturing towards her head, “The ol’ big brain doesn’t just turn off.”
“Well. Finish that and we’ll see if we can’t do something to keep your brain occupied.”
Sam looked at him, unsure, and O’Neill inclined his head towards the dancers and then winked. Suddenly she was nervous 8th grade Samantha again hoping Aidan Belior would look her way. Sipping at the juice, she berated her nerves and then gulped the last mouthful as the current dance came to a finish.
Long fingers brushed over hers as the Colonel took her cup, placing it with his under a bench, and taking her hand. As they joined the dancers, Sam smiled up at her CO.
“I hope this is another fast one.”
Jack returned her smile, “That was fun. Maybe we should have some dances at the SGC.”
“The USO at Petersen has a swing band sometimes.”
“Swing?” Jack looked surprised.
Sam shrugged as the music started up again. “My mom and dad used to like it.”
“Jacob likes to dance?” The Colonel wondered as they followed the slow steps of the couples around them.
“He did,” Sam said calmly, “Until my mom died.” They moved in silence until Sam said, “I wonder if Selmac likes dancing.”
“I can’t imagine the Tok’ra have a lot of use for dancing,” Jack remarked, “They don’t seem to know how to have fun.”
Sam moved in closer to the Colonel, his hand splaying comfortingly in the small of her back, her fingers brushing the short hairs of the nape of his neck. “Maybe Dad can teach them. They’ve been fighting for so long now I think it’s all they know.”
“Did Jolinar feel that way?”
His question surprised her. Colonel O’Neill rarely asked her personal things about her short lived pairing. “She was ... different, to most Tok’ra. I think that is what appealed to Martouf and Lantash. Jolinar was very ... passionate and focused in the moment.”
The fingers at her back squeezed in a gesture meant to be comforting. But with Jolinar’s memories of her lovers at the forefront of Sam’s mind, the touch stirred a heat in Sam and she blushed, ducking her head to hide the flush of her face.
The song came to an end and their feet stopped moving.
“Let’s take a walk,” O’Neill suggested, hooking her hand into the crook of his arm and holding it there.
Mind muddled by the mix of memories, Sam let him lead them away and further down the fence than where they had met, until they came to the creek bank. He sat down on the soft grass and Sam joined him.
“You don’t ask about Jolinar much,” Sam remarked.
Jack’s hand found a twig and he began turning it in his fingers. “I always get the feeling that it’s awkward for you. When we met Martouf and then your dad got Selmak I figured ... that you had people you could talk to about it, now.”
“I do,” Sam answered, eyes focused on the darkness in front of them.
“But, if you ever do want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”
Sam turned and considered her CO, his features barely visible in the darkness. “Thank you, Sir. That ... means a lot.”
The twig in Jack’s fingers stopped moving and he reached for her hand, his fingers sliding over hers in a brief touch. “Sam ...”
She gave the Colonel time to go on, but when he didn’t, she turned towards him. “What is it?”
Jack lifted his eyes to where hers would be in the dark. He wanted to take her hand and hold it, to let his touch convey what he wanted to express, but that would be a move too far. “If you ever need ... anything, I’m here for you.”
For a moment, Sam was tired of this careful dance that they carried on, drawing in close, almost touching before one or the other twirled away, putting them at arms’ length, again. She reached for his knee, her hand resting on the fabric, warm from his body.
“I know. You know that I would do anything for you. Jack.” She felt the start of surprise at the use of his first name. It had been a long time since she had spoken it.
Jack reached for her again, squeezing her fingers. “I do. I’m thankful for you every day.”
Ducking her head, although there was no way he could see her expression, Sam left her hand where it was and went back to looking at the sky. They sat there until the ground became too cold to bear and the music from the dancing began to fade. Then Jack took her hand on his arm, again, and walked them back.
“Thanks for the dances,” he told Sam as they stopped outside Kara’s front door.
“Thank you for asking. I did have fun.”
“See, I knew you would.” He wanted to kiss her goodnight, but instead he brushed the back of his hand over Sam’s cheek and then caught her chin as she went to duck. For a moment they held each other’s eyes and then Jack removed his hand. “I hope Teal’c and Kara don’t keep you awake.”
A smile curved Sam’s mouth and she shook her head. “I think they went somewhere else.”
“Good for them,” Jack smiled, not feeling jealousy, but perhaps regret.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed and, not knowing what else to say, she turned and opened Kara’s door. “Night, Sir.”
“Night, Carter.” Jack waited until the door shut and sighed, turning towards his own bed, regretting that he had to face it alone.