My lips traced the soft skin of Sam's abdomen. She twitched. I paused, listening for guidance. Silence. I resumed my touches, and she flinched as I kissed her belly. I ignored it. My mouth molded to the curve of her hip. She made a keening sound, soft and warbling.
"Sam," I breathed.
She gasped, the sound choked, and I reluctantly lifted my head.
Her eyes were closed, her head arched back on the pillow. Her hair, straw-colored against the hotel sheet, was limp with sweat. "I'm sorry, Janet," she whispered. Her words were inadequate to make me feel better. How could I when she was hurting? Her cheeks were free of tears, but her nostrils flared with each breath as she struggled for self-control.
"It's all right," I said, and moved up the bed to lie on my back next to her. We stayed apart, not even brushing forearms. I closed my eyes, imagining her lying naked beside me, and tried to sense her heat, but she seemed cold.
She was shivering.
"Sam," I started. I wanted to make her tell me what was wrong. Was it Washington? Jacob? Seth? We had brought her here to heal, to see her shiver in March with cherry blossoms in her mussed blonde hair.
Not like this.
Sam refused to recover. She seemed to be getting worse. Had we made a poor choice? Washington was her old stomping ground. The first place she had lived outside of General Carter's shadow. She had worked at the Pentagon, and the Stargate program had become her whole life. Had one visit from Jacob dismantled what she had built free of him?
I wanted to know what she was thinking, but she was keeping it to herself. I missed reading the expressions of her eyes. She barely looked at us these days, her heavy-lidded gaze only widening when she forgot herself and revealed glimpses of anguish.
I called her name she had flinched again. The bed shook. She rolled over and sat up. "I'm going to watch TV."
I opened my eyes, studying the curve of her back as she stood. Her pale skin was smooth and unmarred. I closed my eyes again as she walked out. I asked sleep to come. Alone in a bed I often shared with two, I told myself to embrace the rare chance for peace. I told myself not to antagonize Sam, not to make her anguish about me. I knew it wasn't.
I was pretty sure it wasn't.
Shit.
I got up and dressed, slipping into old tennis shoes before padding onto the balcony of our hotel suite. Jack O'Neill leaned against an iron railing. One foot was hooked on the lower rung, and he was looking at a distant skyline of forest and office buildings. I went to his side and tried to see what he was seeing.
He looked down at me. "I thought you and Carter were inside." His tone was light and even, but he was asking why Sam was crying instead of making love, and why I was outside on a chilly night, alone, when I greatly preferred the indoors.
"Sam's watching TV."
He nodded, looking again at the night. The sky was a hazy red of reflected city light, but one or two stars peeked through the canopy. Sam would know their names. Jack would know their names. To me, they were just stars.
"I'll talk to her," he said, pushing off the railing.
"You don't have to--"
"I've got an idea."
* * *
Sam was staring at the television when O'Neill walked into the living area of the suite. He stood behind the couch, leaning over to look at the blonde trusses on top of her head. "Let's go to the Mall."
She blinked and arched her neck to look at him. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise. "It's 11 o'clock."
"Trains are still running."
"Sir--" She looked back at the television and sighed.
"Come on, Carter. We're both not going to get any sleep. Walk might do us good."
She bit her lip, squinting at a commercial for Tostidos.
He waited.
"Okay."
* * *
They walked along a dark street toward the metro station. Sam professed an interest in brownstone architecture and the quietness of the city, and O'Neill professed an interest in listening. Both were and dressed in black overcoats to protect them from the night's cold. Their faces wore similar expressions of disinterest.
"So," Jack started, as they ambled down into the concrete depths of the subway, "You're conflicted because we executed an illegal military action on American soil, violating a number of federal laws and that pesky Constitution that allows people to bear arms and start cults when they aren't hurting people too badly."
Sam stopped in front of the electronic ticket booth and stared at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Her face twisted in annoyance. She ran a hand through tousled hair, bouncing from foot to foot while she wasted for her ticket.
"Way off?" Jack asked.
"Way off." Sam snatched a card from the machine and headed to the turnstile.
O'Neill took his place at the booth, cursing the slow progress of the credit card reader. When he caught up with Sam at the edge of the platform, he asked, out-of-breath, "What about the fact that a Goa'uld lived among us for thousands of years? Creepy." He stood next her to in the tunnel.
Carter folded her arms and shivered against the cold. "No."
"Was it weird seeing Jacob in uniform, BDUs like he'd worn the whole time you were growing up, like he'd never left? Never been sick?"
Her breath caught when she answered. "Like nothing had changed."
"Ah."
Yellow lights flickered at their feet. The train arrived. They had their pick of seats in the empty car. O'Neill settled in front of Sam.
She leaned back against the windowpane. "We went to see Mark. It was nice. Well, almost nice." She exhaled. "So on the drive back to Colorado Springs, I told him about Janet."
O'Neill raised his eyebrows.
"He already knew about you." She shrugged. "Janet's family, too." She hugged herself, looking at her reflection in the window opposite their seats.
Jack nodded.
"The look of disappointment on his face." Sam closed her eyes. For a moment they listened to the sound of the train on the tracks. "He wasn't mad. Just...very quiet. He asked me why. Why I needed her when I had--" She ran her fingers through her hair.
"A perfectly normal life with me?"
"Yeah." She looked down at her hands.
The train stopped. They walked out, slowly. "I was thinking," Sam murmured. "Isn't he right? I'm so close. Studly lover."
O'Neill posed.
"Great daughter." Sam continued. "Fulfilling job. Why do I need that extra perversion?" Her voice hitched on the last word, and she glanced around, to see if there was anyone in the train station who might overhear.
"Because I like to watch?"
"Sir." Sam smiled. "I just--there's my father's way, and there's chaos. That's my life." She pulled her coat around her.
O'Neill was silent as they emerged onto the street. The Washington Monument, close now, lit brightly against the night, was the dominating feature of their view. They strolled at an angle to the landmark.
"If I gave up Janet," Sam murmured, "I'd have to give up you, too." She squinted against the lights.
"I'm in love with her," O'Neill answered. "But this isn't about threatening you into staying."
Sam sighed. "I can't help wanting what my father wants for me."
"None of us can."
They reached the crest of the hill. Below them was the Vietnam Memorial. The pit was lined with onyx that shone under the soft glow of ground-level spotlights.
"I know the exact spot," Sam said, and she descended down the sidewalk.
O'Neill followed, and watched her place her hand over a name chiseled into the wall. Her fingers traced the indentations of the letters. Despite the lateness of a chilly, ordinary Wednesday night in March, other visitors were at the site.
"My uncle." Sam cleared her throat. "Dad's brother. He was an officer. When I was his age, I was an Academy brat. Shit on wheels." She snorted. "I guess it's better that we remember him young and beautiful. Rather than old and damaged."
"Like your father?"
Sam shrugged. "A cliche, I know." She turned to him. "Was it the same for you in Iraq?"
"You were there."
"Later, though. What about the syndrome and the friendly fire and the desert heat?"
O'Neill sucked in his cheeks. "It's the same everywhere. Iraq. South America. Russia. Everywhere I've been. War is hell, Carter, and you can't always escape through a Stargate."
"Escape through a Stargate." Carter looked upward. "Solves so many problems, doesn't it? Saved Dad's life. Nearly destroyed the planet." Sam snorted. "Seeing him was such a shock, in that camouflage cap, barking orders. My childhood all over again. But there was still that alien slug in his gut. He was still just that far from 'normal.'"
"And you?"
"He wants me to be better than him." Sam looked at the name on the wall.
"Aren't you?"
"Luckier, maybe." Sam dropped her hand from the stone and sighed. "I'd be stupid not to love someone like Janet."
"I hear you're very smart."
Sam chuckled. "He said, 'Janet's a nice girl, but why can't you just play bridge?'"
"We could play bridge."
"I don't know how to play bridge."
"We could play poker, then."
Sam grinned. "Okay." She stepped toward him. He opened his arms to envelop her and Sam buried her nose in his jacket. He smelled musky and sweaty. She was surrounded by his body heat. His fingers, stroking her back in gentle circles, made her exhale with pleasure. Her hand slid down to his ass, squeezing him through his jeans. His cock twitched against her thigh. "It's not enough," she murmured against his chest.
O'Neill smirked. "I'm insulted." He put his hands on her shoulders and rotated her, then stood close to her so that his body was against her back. Her gaze traveled up the ramp.
* * *
I stepped out of the shadows, wearing jeans and a fleece parka. My hands were gloved and shoved into my coat pockets. I did not have the capacity for exothermic processes that my two larger lovers had. Sam's expression changed from contentment to desire when she saw me.
She walked toward me. Her cheeks were red from the cold and her eyes seemed to dance with an icy blue fire.
Jack stood his ground, and I gave him a small smile. Sam ascended. I wondered what she saw in my tiny stature and chattering teeth that made her wear that familiar expression of lust.
I shivered, and by the time she reached me, standing in front of me with a half-apologetic grin, I felt I would shatter if she touched me. She reached out with long, pale fingers and cupped my cheek. I leaned into her caress. "You look good," I suggested.
"My father's an asshole."
"No, he's not," I countered, and tilted to kiss her palm. "Maybe that's the problem." I looked around her shoulder at O'Neill, the man that had brought her to me. She still looked afraid, but there was a hint of wonder I recognized in her features. The non-self-conscious part of myself knew that I was a gift to her, too, and that Jack had arranged my appearance for Sam.
The presentation, the objectification, gave me my place between them. I nuzzled Sam's fingers. She stepped closer, bringing her other hand to my neck. I had to tilt my head back to see her, and I watched her head descend, blond hair falling over her forehead, as she bent to kiss me.
Her lips were as cold as her hands, but when I slid my tongue into her mouth I discovered heat. Her tongue traced mine, and we indulged in a moment of intimacy before drawing back. Her gusts of breath floated between us.
O'Neill appeared at our side. He wrapped his arms around our shoulders. "Do you realize that you have just kissed another woman on the most secure piece of land in the world, in plain view of two police officers, three Secret Service agents, and one frail Senator?"
I blushed, but Sam threw her head back and laughed. "Tell them to bring it on. I'm General Carter's little girl."
O'Neill grinned. "Pulling rank? I've saved the planet, too. Just because I'm an old war hero with a busted knee doesn't mean I--"
"What?" I interrupted, turning to look at him. Carter stood behind me, touching my back. Blocked from inquisitive government eyes, I cupped his crotch. "Who gives a fuck about your knee, Colonel?"
He sighed. Sam's lips curved into a smile against my ear. "I want to go home," she whispered.
"What's wrong with here?" I asked.
"Dip a toe in the reflecting pool and they'll shoot you," O'Neill said. "I don't want them interrupting us, for crying out loud."
Sam frowned. She glanced around.
"Sam," I said. "Do you think that we can both get our tongues inside Jack's mouth at the same time?"
O'Neill's eyes widened. "Let's go home."
* * *
We took a cab. Sam held my hand. I held Jack's thigh.
Our lovemaking as a group was rare--it demanded such energy and concentration, exhausted us so completely, that the ignition was sparing. Sam would say it was the difference between a nuclear bomb and candlelight. One was far easier to ignite, but the burning in the other was far greater, and the recovery time, much longer. We were getting older.
We maintained separate households. Most of our time was spent at my house because of Cassandra. Jack's cabin was our getaway. Sam kept her home, really her father's home, for the sake of appearance, but none of us did much sleeping there.
I had slept with Sam. I had slept with Jack. But we had not been all together since... I bit my lip. Since before Jacob came. Since before Seth died. Since Sam had gone west and come back broken.
In the cab, Sam leaned over and kissed my neck. I transferred the touch to Jack, tracing his inner thigh. He shuddered, almost imperceptibly, his shoulder vibrating against mine.
"Dad was disappointed," Sam said softly, and I looked at her in confusion. I felt Jack shift, and felt his hand brush my shoulder. "He didn't like me loving you." She repeated. "But he didn't say no." I felt her lips touch my cheek, and then flutter against my forehead.
The cab stopped.
* * *
Upstairs, we stood in the living room of the suite, avoiding the bedroom where we had spent the last sleepless night. Sam caught my eye. "Wanna try it?" Her voice was playful, and dullness had been washed off her features. I had to wonder at the healing powers of an evening walk.
I unzipped my parka and took it off, standing in jeans and a maroon sweater. Sam took my side in front of Jack. Her head was even with his, and I stood on my tiptoes to reach his mouth, but my head barely reached his chin. "Maybe you should sit," I suggested, and nudged Jack backward against the couch.
He fell into the cushions. The sight of him sprawled was tempting, and I straddled his legs, tucking my knees on either side of his hips. Sam came to my right side, leaning over. Her presence, near enough for me to catch her scent, completed the triangle. She stuck out her tongue.
I laughed.
Sam turned her head and we kissed in front of Jack.
"Good girls."
Sam's tongue slipped between my teeth as I held her face in my hands, surrendering to the invasion of her warm, wet tongue stroking mine, lightly flickering against my gums. I kept my eyes open, watching the fluttering of her pale lashes as her mouth touched me.
"You go right ahead, ladies, I'll just--" Jack shifted, reaching for the buttons of his jeans.
"Nuh uh," Sam said against my lip. She drew away and we turned to him. We lunged for his mouth at the same time, knocking heads, laughing, and approaching again more slowly. Even with my cheek pressed against Sam's, it was hard to kiss him.
I settled for tasting the corner of his mouth, while Sam nibbled at the other side. His tongue came out and swept my lips. Sam's tongue, soft and pointed, darted over my mouth in an attempt to find Jack. The tickling and struggling left me laughing with them. We slobbered until my back hurt from the posture and my jaw hurt from the strain. We surrendered.
Sam sagged onto the couch at Jack's side and I rocked back to look into his face. His expression was glassy, and he was smiling. "Jack, watch," I whispered.
He blinked his eyes and looked at me. I pulled my sweater over my head, arching over his lap to stretch my arms. Sam reached out to unclasp my bra at my back so that my breasts sagged forward. Jack drew the straps down my shoulders. I leaned in and kissed him, just the two of us, our tongues mingling in each other's mouths. I felt him hard and hot underneath me as I ground against him. He responded by moaning against my lips. Sam stood, moving behind me, holding my hips. Suspended between them, I felt helpless and powerful at the same time.
I broke away from Jack, noticing his lips were swollen with kisses. He covered my bare breasts with his palm, cupping and squeezing them. I groaned. I knew I was wet. I thrust myself against him, wanting the hardness underneath me, denied by our clothing. He urged me, sweating and panting, toward nature's intended conclusion.
And there was Sam, kissing my shoulder. Chaos. I dragged my fingernails across Jack's chest until I reached his waist. I tugged the fabric of his shirt free from the belt.
"Janet," Sam whispered in my ear. "Let's take him to bed."
"And what?"
"Thank him."
She helped me off Jack's lap. I saw his penis straining in his jeans. My own arousal mirrored his. I took his hands and pulled him to his feet, and we walked to the bedroom.
Inside, I commanded, my voice thick with need, "Off."
Jack yanked his shirt over his head. Sam moved between us, her body lean and supple, and attacked his belt. She pulled the strap free of the buckle and then left the two ends hanging while she worked to open the buttons of his pants.
I moved behind him and pushed the denim down to his ankles, and then knelt at his feet to help him step out of his jeans and sneakers, leaving Sam with a full view of his cock. Sliding my hands up the back of Jack's thighs, I looked around him and caught Sam's hungry expression.
I flushed. I needed her, needed them both. My skin felt hot. I licked Jack's spine, and then pushed him toward the bed. "On your back."
"As you wish." Jack snorted. He stretched out on the bed on his back, his head on a single pillow.
I leaned over the bed. Sam's arms encircled me from behind. "Let me undress you," she murmured. I felt her lips vibrate against my neck.
I moaned. Sam's touch and scent were unraveling me. Her hands, clasped at my waist, opened my pants. One slipped into my fly and touched me. I arched back against her, knowing she could feel my wetness. Her fingers dipped between my lips, opening me, exposing me. She panted against my ear as she fondled me.
"Sam," I whispered.
"Janet," Jack called from the bed.
I gasped as Sam's hand withdrew. I mourned the loss of her touch, but Jack was naked in front of me. I knelt on the bed and crawled over him, straddling his waist, resuming the position from the couch. I bent down to kiss him. When he groaned against my lips, I knew Sam had taken him in her mouth.
Our lips touched softly. I ran my tongue along his lower lip, tugging it between my teeth, urging him to open his mouth. He gave me his tongue and I sucked on the warm, wet organ. The sounds of Sam's eager slurping came from behind me and I tore myself away from Jack to look over my shoulder.
I watched his penis disappear between Sam's lips and slide out again, glistening with her saliva. I whimpered at the sight, pushing myself against Jack's abdomen, leaving trails of desire on his skin.
"More," Jack moaned, and grabbed my waist, pulling me up. I crouched over him. My breasts dangled above his face. His mouth was open and I lowered myself to brush my nipples against his lips. Even the brief contact with his chapped flesh made my nipples harden and I shuddered with pleasure, lowering myself again for him.
His tongue circled my aureole, tasting my left nipple. My clitoris throbbed with each lick. I lifted myself again before he could suckle.
"Janet, please," he moaned. I knew Sam had him close, past the threshold of teasing. I descended again, letting him take my breast into his mouth. He suckled hard, wrapping his arms around my back, crushing me to his body.
I concentrated on the sweet pull of his lips on my breast. When I began to hurt from the urgency of his passion on my hard nipple, he arched his head back, breaking our contact, and groaned. His face was red with exertion, and he was gasping.
"Sam," I murmured. "Make him come."
Jack bellowed, tousling my hair with a gust of breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. His body went rigid beneath mine. He shuddered twice and then sank into the bed. I twisted, wanting to see Sam with his come on her lips, but she grabbed my waist.
"Don't," she commanded.
I reluctantly returned my attention to Jack. His eyes opened and he met my gaze. I was suspended above him, and longed to lower myself onto his body and give into the carnal need centered between my thighs. "Sam," I begged. "What are you--?"
My words were stopped by the sensation of something wet against my lower back. "Sam," I pleaded, closing my eyes.
Her tongue traveled lower, nudging between my asscheeks, making me hiss when the wet muscle circled my anus. Her lips brushed against my swollen center. I whimpered, and Sam responded by swishing her tongue over my clitoris.
Jack's fingers touched my cheek and entangled themselves in my hair, forcing me to open my eyes. I leaned down and kissed him. His tongue invaded my mouth just as Sam entered me.
I moaned at the dual penetration. My knees gave away and I sagged against Jack's chest. My hips were thrust in the air, held to Sam's eager lapping tongue by her strong hands. I squirmed against her, abandoning Jack's kisses. "Please, Jesus, now," I begged.
Sam complied, concentrating on my clitoris. Her kisses touched the most intimate part of me. I was burning as Jack held me in his arms. I buried my face in his neck as I came, my cries muffled by his warm skin. Sam licked me until I whimpered for her to stop, and then she began chastely kissing the back of my thighs.
I panted, my breath hot against Jack's neck. Sam finally stretched out at my side, rolling onto her back to smile at the ceiling. I heard her breathing change. "Sam," I murmured. "Stop touching yourself."
"But--" She breathed. "You two are satisfied."
"Not completely." I knelt and clambered to Sam's other side. Jack sat up against the headboard and, with encouragement, Sam wriggled into his arms.
"Have I mentioned," he said, roughly into hear ear. "That I love watching?"
I caught his eye and winked. Sam's hips were still on top of the wrinkled, damp sheets, but her upper body was supported by Jack Her breasts were above his forearms, displayed for me. I stared at them, glistening with sweat, nipples puckered, as I traced my fingers along Sam's thigh. "Sam, honey," I cajoled. "you shouldn't touch yourself." I cupped her, feeling her curls against my palm.
"Why not?" She gasped.
O'Neill, his brown eyes intent on the movements of my hand, moved to squeeze Sam's breasts. I savored Sam's whimpered response.
I sank one finger into her depths, teasing the hard, swollen nub I found. "You'll go blind."
Sam grinned, and then gasped as I fondled her. "Wouldn't want that."
"No sirree," O'Neill echoed.
I slowly stroked her, exploring her heat. I closed my eyes as my fingers worked, wanting to concentrate on the sounds she was making. I could tell she was close by the hitch of her breath and the familiar thrusts of her thighs against my hand. "Sam," I murmured, caressing her with my voice. I opened my eyes. My free hand came up to cup her cheek as I gently urged her climax.
Sam shuddered in Jack's arms.
"Good girl, Sam." I crooned. I withdrew my hand from between her thighs and Jack released her breasts to grab my wrist. I allowed him to draw me to his lips. He licked my fingers, tasting Sam. I quivered at his rough, textured tongue against my skin.
Sam was held between us, cushioned against O'Neill's strong body, and spread underneath me as I leaned into Jack's caresses. The corners of her eyes crinkled. "He gets to taste me. You should taste him."
Still cupping her face, I kissed her. I could taste Jack's semen on the corners of her mouth. I nibbled the rim of her lips. He must have come on her face, rather than inside her mouth. I moaned at imagining Jack spurting against her skin.
Arousal flared in me, and I wondered if I could come again. The more I tasted the dried, salty flecks coating Sam's cheeks, the more my passion expanded. Sam took notice and wrapped an arm around me, grabbing my ass. I leaned into her, rubbing my nipples, sensitive and swollen, against her breasts.
"Oof," Jack grunted. "Gained weight?" He asked me.
I pinched his thigh and he yelped.
Sam found my clitoris, rubbing me gently, and I squirmed. "Inside," I requested, and immediately was filled with two of her fingers. "Yes," I hissed. I rode her hand, my hips bouncing against her. I came quickly, quivering, gritting my teeth.
I collapsed, and Sam gathered me into her arms. Jack held us both.
"Nice," he slurred.
"Wanna go again, Colonel?"
He grimaced. "Maybe tomorrow."
Sam snickered. I rubbed my nose against her shoulder.
"My father wants me to live in a perfect world," she whispered, her tone confessional. "I've been trying to convince him my whole life that I already do."