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Logical Mind vs Emotional Heart

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It's late. The storm outside is raging with no near end in sight and he can feel the affects of the beers he's already downed start to warm his insides. If he was smart, he'd head straight to bed. He'd turn off the TV before the inevitable power outage beats him to it and then he'd take a long cold shower to clear his head. He wouldn't think about her. Wouldn't think about her in any way other than as his subordinate. Not until circumstances changed, anyway. To do otherwise would be very, very bad idea.

If he was smart he'd do all those things. Right now. But he's not. Not tonight at least.

Tonight, he's decided, he's been very dumb; but he's clinging to logic like a lifeline hoping it will improve his IQ before he really messes up. He should feel good, like he's done the right thing, but staring out the window by the closed door watching her retreat back into the rain sends a pang of regret through him that his smart self condemns.

It was dangerous for her to come. Again, no call, much like the week before, but she'd had the good mind to ask if he had company before launching into her rehearsed speech. Pete was gone she'd blurted first. Their engagement and relationship had been over for days and with the fresh loss of her father, she'd been laying awake in bed trying to figure out what she wanted.

Him, as it turned out. She wanted him and wanted to know if he felt the same.

Like the clueless fool that he was, he'd struggled to reply. Throughout her speech, all he could focus on was that incessant warning bell in his head signaling that they were heading into dangerous territory much as it always did when things got too close between them. It had been different before she met Pete. For one, he hadn't been the base CO. Now, he was an even more influential superior that, should they cross the line in their current positions, things could get very bad very quickly if they were caught. He wanted her though, so much so that the ache that had taken up a seemingly permanent place in his heart when she had announced her engagement shattered the minute she'd said she was now free and the relief floored him. He hadn't realized how wound tight he'd been. How on edge he was about his emotions until the words "There's no more Pete!" left her mouth. It sent a jolt of thrilling electricity through him at the possibilities opening that metaphorical door had unleashed. But that was why the internal klaxons rang.

He'd fought with himself the entire time. Fought for control over not only his emotions but his physical reactions. If only she'd waited till the rain had stopped. Not rushed rushed over at midnight in a t-shirt and jeans and allowed the rain to soak through the material effectively giving herself a second skin. If only it wasn't cold and she'd worn a bra. If only.

He suspected she hadn't thought it through, merely acting on impulse which was rather surprising coming from the one more likely out of the pair to keep them in line throughout their career. He'd been completely dumbfounded when he'd opened the door to find her standing there, dripping wet and panting like she'd just run the distance from her house to his. That was also the second he knew he was going to be screwed tonight, one way or another.

She'd asked him to say something, anything, as she'd moved dangerously close. The skin on his arm had pebbled from the charged air between them and all the while the angel of good on his should was drowning out the devil by chanting "You're still her CO!". So, with a sigh, all he'd said was "You shouldn't be here."

She'd noticeably deflated at his seeming rejection as they stood there for what felt like hours just staring at each other. He didn't want to reject her. Not at all. In fact, the urge to throw caution to the wind and give in was almost too strong to resist which was why he needed too. There was something in the way her eyes pleaded with his, how the smell of rain mixed with her unique scent intoxicated him more than any amount of alcohol ever could. It wasn't until he felt himself lean closer, into her, and felt her breath wash over his face that logic cruelly prevailed. "You really need to go," he'd all but begged.

He'd itched to brush his fingers against her cheek. Anything to reassure her that this wasn't it. To prove to her they just had a few more obstacles to dodge before giving in. He'd hoped she would understand. Hoped she would snap back to the dutiful soldier she was every other second of every day and quit torturing him for the night. Deep down he hoped she would go home. Hoped she'd leave to cool down, like he knew he had to, and in the morning attempt a proper conversation when things like twilight magic and the bewitching smell of rain didn't make him want to drag her inside and cross the event horizon until they physically couldn't anymore. Instead, she'd held on to that desperation a little longer.

"Jack, please!" Her plea had hit him like a staff blast to the chest. She needed reassurance, needed him to show her he wasn't rebuffing her advance. He knew it, even wished he could give that to her. Just a little something to get her by. But to do that would take more strength than he had. He'd been hanging by a string. A frayed one, ready to snap and he needed her to leave before he pushed them over the line then shattered every barrier that had been between them for 8 years. "We cant,” he'd finally reasoned, “Not right now." And with a heavy heart, he stepped back in an effort to make distance his savior. When she finally gave him a nod and turned to leave, he wasted no time retreating inside to close the door on a groan.

That was when he should have been smart. When he shouldn't have let regret get the better of him. When he shouldn't have peered through the curtain to watch as she stepped away from his house. If he'd been smart he wouldn't have seen her stop. His heart wouldn't have skipped a beat before beginning to pound erratically out of his chest. He wouldn't have been able to see the way she half turned, her profile in perfect view. Even from that angle he could see the determination on her face as she clearly battled an internal war of whether or not to turn back. If he was smart he'd turn away now. Turn and head straight to bed. But he wasn't.

Like a last ditch effort by his subconscious, the part of him still remembering why doing anything other than going to bed alone would be a bad idea, he pleaded out loud for her not to give in to her own desire. "Keep walking, Carter." He whispered, "Don't turn around, keep walking!”. It was as much a plea for his own slipping sanity as it was for her. He was supposed to be smarter. He was supposed to be her CO who lead by example and kept them in check. He wasn't supposed to love her yet. He was supposed to retire, transfer, do anything before they did what they wanted. They were supposed to do this right, not crap all over the very rules that they had followed so carefully for longer than either would care to admit. She needed to leave because the moment he caught her eyes he would be lost. No amount of patriotism or consequences would be able to stop him. And with all that being true, the final “Please...” he hissed left him confused as to whether he was still actually wishing her away.

The air seemed to still the second before she made her decision. Even the wind and rain washing over her seemed to ease noticeably. It was a sound so calming that all he could hear was the sound of his own breath and heart beating out of his chest as she slowly turned back to face him, eyes searching his through the window. And just like that, he was completely hers.

He didn't hesitate when he pulled the door open. Didn't care that he was about to freeze in the storm as he crossed the threshold and closed the distance between them until he was so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her like fire even as she shivered. And he didn't regret finally running his fingers from her jaw to tangle in the silky, wet strands of hair at the back of her head.

"You really should have left," he whispered, voice huskier than he expected. She just stared up at him through sure eyes. She acknowledged his logic. Noted it down and then scribbled it out as if consequences be damned. Those strikingly blue eyes that drugged his better judgment flicked down towards his mouth and in that moment everything he was was hers. He'd do anything, say anything, be anyone she wanted him to be if it gave him the relief he craved since the moment they met. And as the rain picked up force once more and pelted down upon their skin, she smirked, and that was all it took for each of them to surge toward each other as the damn wall burst.

She tasted like rain water and mint and her skin was like ice but he devoured her anyway. Savored every unique flavor he could taste on her lips, tongue, throat, anywhere he could reach. She blossomed for him the way she did in every fantasy he had ever had and he took everything with a hunger that both nourished him and begged for more. He'd been starved for her for years and now that she was here, he took her greedily with little thought to the galaxy around them that may need her more. It was selfish, but that devil on his shoulder had just convinced the angel that they more than deserved it.

Wind whipped their faces, whirled around them as the rain soaked their bodies until it was hard to tell whose clothes were whose as they pressed tightly together. They clawed at each other, oblivious to the chaos from mother nature that surrounded them. Fingers raked and roamed, palms felt and searched. Within seconds, he'd mapped almost every part of her he'd been dying to discover, the only parts left were hidden beneath soaked clothes that he ached to explore.

She latched onto his shirt collar to pull him impossibly closer; Her lips sliding over his in a dance that left him in a suspended state of wanting. She was so soft. Pliable and delicate in his hands even as the goosebumps on her wet flesh pebbled under his touch. Her tongue turned his insides to jelly whilst her lips made his yearning muscles hard and he realized that the weather was making the enjoyment of that fact increasingly uncomfortable. His next move effectively threw his earlier logic into the dirt. She groaned her approval when he hooked both hands under her backside and hoisted her up off the ground, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

She moaned when they made it inside. Groaned when her back hit the wall roughly and she emitted the sexiest growl he'd ever heard as they began shedding clothes in a state of wild abandon. All the while he kissed and caressed every inch of skin he could reach as it became available to his eager touch.

They managed to move things along, slowly yet frantically, towards the bedroom, stopping several times to continue the greedy exploration of each others mouths. The journey to the bed was a blur but he'd forever remember the way she looked, soaking wet with glistening naked skin, as she lay beneath him upon his sheets. He'd stopped at that point. Content for the moment to bask in her beauty, something he'd only ever dreamed of doing. And when she smiled at him, he honestly couldn't remember why he had thought this was such a bad idea.

Even if they were caught. Even if he went to jail for this. Even if he lost his job and the position he had defending earth, it would all be worth it for the chance to make Samantha Carter happy. Because, in the end, every sacrifice they had made, every heart ache they had endured, every near death experience, longing glance, hard choice, locked room, every second that had ticked by since he laid eyes on her had been leading them to this moment and maybe giving in was smart after all.

He loved her and she him and with that final thought, he sank into her slowly.