Title: "In the Pilot's Seat"

Summary: Something's bugging Sam.

Rating: PG13 - Sexual References

Could her life get any stranger? No, scratch that thought. The last thing she needed to do was to tempt fate. But even with everything that had happened to Sam over the last 6 years, the last week still qualified as unusual. After all, she'd only left town for two days to visit her brother and his family. Just a quick trip while Jack and Hammond were tied up with budget reports. And then had come the emergency call telling her to get back, and finding on her return that her husband was closer to fifteen than fifty. So that made her what - Mrs. Robinson? (Yeah, the marines had had a field day with that one) Then had come the awful news that Jack was dying, and the confusion of learning that the boy wasn't really Jack.

The whole week had left her exhausted and with a nagging feeling of irritation that she couldn't quite put her finger on. At first she'd thought it was caused by the idea of Mini-Jack running around out there somewhere. Especially after Jack had teased that the poor kid was going to have a hard time finding a girlfriend to hold a candle to Sam. But although she had to admit that the thought of a fifteen-year-old with carnal knowledge of her was a bit creepy, she'd eventually come to terms with it.

Then she had figured she was just annoyed with Daniel, who had insisted on having one of his chats with her to see how she was doing. For some reason he was concerned that she and Jack were having problems, which had confused her until he pointed out that there was a picture of Jack, Sara and Charlie at Jack's bedside instead of a picture of her. But she couldn't be upset with Daniel. After all she had thoroughly enjoyed watching him blush when she explained that the picture of her along with their wedding photo had been the casualties of a little too much enthusiasm in bed one night, and that they were now at the photo shop getting break-resistant glass put in the frames.

Still she felt, well restless was the only way to describe it. And then it dawned on her. She was sitting in a briefing discussing upcoming upgrades for the F-302 when she literally felt the light bulb go off. In all of the turmoil she'd almost forgotten about the pilot's briefing. That male chauvinist group of flyboys had sat in that room and been more willing to accept a lecture from a fifteen-year-old boy than from a woman. And of course Jack hadn't helped any, breezing in and taking over with a confidence that screamed superior officer (even if the body was too young to have driver's license let alone a pilot's) Darn that was confusing. Could she be mad at Jack when he hadn't actually been there?

Besides, she knew the real problem was with her own confidence as a pilot. In the old days she could have handled briefing the boys with ease. Back in the days when an F-16 was as natural a habitat to her as alien planets currently were. But other than a couple of quick check-out flights to keep up her qualifications, she hadn't been in the pilot's seat of a fighter in way too long. She was determined to change that.

Two weeks later, Jack stood in the doorway of Sam's lab surprised to see it empty. He checked his watch. It was only 16:30. He'd been in a meeting with the other team leaders, and as soon as they'd finished he had come to see if she was ready to go home, but his wife was nowhere to be found. Then he spotted a post-it note on her terminal.

'Had to run an errand. Gone for the Day. Carter.'

Very odd. This was the third time in two weeks she'd left early. Something definitely was up and Jack O'Neill was on a mission to find out what. He was waiting for her when she got home and one look at his face told her he was not in the mood for anything other than the truth.

"Hey," she said, trying to figure out where to start.

Silence.

"I've been at Patterson, flying Jack. And no, I didn't tell you. It was something I needed to do for me. As many times as we've been up in the F-302 lately, I've always had to take a back seat. I needed to get back in the pilot's seat. I missed it," she confessed.

He had the grace to look guilty. As the senior officer it had always been assumed that he would pilot. It had never even occurred to him to offer to trade seats with her so she could pilot her own baby.

"I called Nellis. They're going to be doing a few check-out flights of the two new F-302's next week. You are signed up to take one out," he offered by way of apology.

She gave him a brilliant smile, and then threw her arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss. When she came up for breath she leaned back in his arms, and traced a lazy pattern on his chest with one hand.

"You know, I've just had 42,000 lbs. of pure power at my control. It was quite a rush," she commented.

"Is that a challenge, Major?" he asked, pulling her hips in so that she could feel his arousal pressing against her. "Because I think I'm up for it."

"29,000 lbs. of thrust," she added moving her hand around to his butt to pull him in closer.

"Thrust is good," he said giving a little thrust of his own.

"Just remember I like to be in the pilot's seat," she warned before she caught his lips in a passionate kiss.

THE END

Continued in Killing Time