Disclaimer: Not mine. Episode Insert: Descent (pre-episode, really). Rating: R. Archive: SJFic yes please, anyone else certainly. Notes: Was watching Descent, and there's a comment at the beginning about the insanity that went on at the SGC when the whole thing first started, and Sam and Jack had this... look. And Jack totally had the "We shoulda gone to Vegas" look on his face... And I couldn't think of a better title...

Coitus Interruptus
by ALC Punk!



Jack O'Neill was beeping.

That was wrong. As he slid in once again, Sam Carter knew that was wrong. Because while Jack had his hands on her breasts and his lips on her neck and his dick buried inside of her, he did not (and she was beginning to rack up a lot of experience with this sort of thing) as a rule, beep.

And yet, there was the beeping. Again.

It occurred to Sam, as a particularly good thrust made her back arch and her muscles twitch in expectation, that she knew that sound.

Damn.

"Jack." The hand she already had tangled in his hair tugged, trying to get his attention.

His hand slid down between them, and she moaned, momentarily distracted.

But the beeping continued.

"Jack. Stop."

He did. And she really wished he hadn't, but he did. And now she could identify the beeping. Both of the beeps, actually.

"We're being paged."

"I know," his breathing was heavy.

Work. And her training asserted itself, her mind shifting gears (even though her body objected because she had been just that close, and he was still hard inside of her and heavy on top, and that free hand was still toying with her breasts). Only work had that beeper number, and only work would be calling. And only in an emergency. She lifted her head and thumped it back against the headboard.

"Jack..."

He sighed, breath sliding across her skin causing it to shiver. "Carter."

"I know." She pulled her fingers away from him, "We should've gone to Vegas."

"Yeah." He still hadn't moved. "You know it's probably something stupid. Something that Siler could fix--or Walter. Or, hell, even Jonas."

If they'd been in Vegas, they could have gotten away with finishing. Because a few minutes wouldn't make a difference. But they were here in Colorado Springs, and a few minutes could equal the difference between a green or a red light.

Speaking of minutes... she sighed and reached for the phone on the bedside table.

Hopefully, no one would pay attention to the number when she called in. Not that they'd care that Major Carter was staying in a no-tell motel. Probably. With a grimace, she dialed one-handed, trying to ignore the hands still sliding and tickling and playing. "This is Major Carter, I was just paged."

"Major! You need to return to the SGC immediately." Walter sounded agitated. "There's been a difficulty which requires your technical expertise."

"All right." Well, she considered as she hung up, he hadn't sounded like things were going to explode. Hopefully.

"Emergency?"

"Probably."

"It can wait a little longer," he announced firmly, then he began moving again.

Maybe it had been the pause in movement, or the interrupted anticipation, but Sam found herself much closer than she'd thought she was. In less than a minute the world exploded around her.

He followed her and then they lay tangled in the aftermath, sweat cooling on their skin.

"Shower." His voice was muffled by her shoulder.

"Quick one."

"Yup."

And it was. Despite the fact that they took it together and washed each others' backs.

-finis-

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