Carter's Post Combat Release Syndrome

Her low grunt of release, he found exited him more than he would have thought possible, causing him to almost loose his poise for a second – his erection already felt close to exploding, and he just knew that the slightest movement could set it off; mentally he started going through a pre-flight checklist for the F-111, then in desperation, the X-3.

Despite all this he still watched her stand up, then quietly and efficiently re-clothe herself, the whole time presenting him with her thirty-eight best sides as she turned, bent over and smoothed her clothing, generally doing all that stuff which always fascinated him.

Waiting for her to get fully clothed again, and so be able to pretend that nothing had happened, he sat bolt upright, making it seem like he'd come directly out of a deep sleep. Slumping slightly forward upon apparently ascertaining that no immediate threat was upon them, he was able to use the action to disguise his hard-on, which had come originally from thinking about Carter while he'd been drifting off to sleep, something made worse by what she'd been doing while thinking he actuallywasasleep.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her watching him, sat there rigid as his erection was against his belly. Slowly he looked around to see everyone else still out for the count, then rubbing his eyes and cheeks firmly with brisk strokes, he checked his watch, then looked up at her.

'Watchyadoin' Carter?'

'Sir...?' Her confusion and half-guilty expression were almost too much for him.

'Get some shut-eye whydontcha?'

She relaxed a little. 'Couldn't sir, too much on my mind.'

He just gave her a two second look of poker-calculation.

'You should learn to relax, unwind a bit Carter.'

'Yessir, I will.'

He gave her a different one of his stock looks.

'That wasn't an order Carter, it was justadvice.'

'Yes sir, I... I'll be fine.'

Giving a further two seconds of the poker look, he shrugged and bowed his eyes to the floor, clasping both hands before him and pursing his lips. 'Ever read Lassiter's paper on PCRS?'

His voice was low and disarmingly neutral, but he knew that she had read it because he'd stumbled upon the link at her workstation a year or more earlier, whilst trying to fathom the science she had been studying by following the same desktop and document shortcuts.

'PCRS sir?' Her caught breath was sign enough for him not to look up at her, like he would more normally do at this point. He gave her a few more seconds instead.

'Yeah. Not to put too fine a point on it, the report is about Post Combat Release Syndrome... and how to...relax.'

'I... I'll look it up, sir.' Sam felt a little curiosity smooth over the guilt, needing suddenly to know what O'Neill was getting at; then seeing in this a rare opportunity for far more than words to be exchanged, she put her best casual tone on.

'I can't remember hearing about it though, sir. What does it say?'

Judging the moment carefully, he looked around at her while pondering the grave he was apparently considering digging for himself.

'Ohfercryin'outloud. Carter, justreadit will you?'

She blinked. 'I will sir, but I'm just curious why I didn't hear of it before. I am a Major after all, and so should know about anything combat related.' To her credibility, she kept her expression from seeming too eager, or too pointed.

'I was trying to avoid specifics here, Carter.' He peeled his cap off and ran a hand through his hair in stalling, before resettling it casually. 'I find this sort of thing easier to tell themenunder my command, and what with you being... a woman an' all...'

'Yes sir, I thought we'd got past all that a long time ago...'

'Dammit, don't interrupt me,' he interrupted, 'not when I'm already having a hard time explaining things. Look, maybe it's because youarea woman that you've never heard of it – Iknowwe're allmodernand integrated in the Airforce nowadays, but you know howconservativeand up their ownassesthe top-brass can be, so maybe they restricted it.' He gave her another few seconds of pause, wondering just where she was going with her innocence act; then a cold though struck him between the eyes:Maybe she had only accessed the report, but hadn't read it yet...but by then it was too late, and there was no way out of it for him.

'It would have made life easier, because even as your CO there are some things I can't just come out and say...'

She hooked him with thatdamnsmile of curiosity she had. 'Such as? C'mon sir, we've been through a lot together...'

Jack sighed and straightened, even though his erection was unabated; he just didn't care anymore. Her glance although brief, told him she'd caught sight of its presence and an idea took over.

'To relieve post combat tension syndrome, the report recommends that the troops should make a little time to...relax, find time for somerelief.' He adjusted the peak of his cap again, apparently unsatisfied with how it sat, absorbing himself while he spoke with short, fine tugs of correction.

'Sir?'

He looked at her, almost as if he'd forgotten she was there. 'So go take some time away...' he gestured vaguely toward the nearest corridor, 'andrelieveany...tension.' He seemed to be flippantly back in control, although still focused more upon getting the peak of his capjust rightin between his words.

Sam now desperately wanted to hear him say the words, nor could she help goading and enjoying the rare pleasure of seeing him squirm before it vanished completely behind his returning control of the situation; she was also using it as counterpoint to combat the uncertainty of whether he had seen her or not. His erection was still very hard and unabashedly visible; she also knew that he had caught her glancing at it.

'Sir, I'm still not quite with you.'

He let out a very quiet sigh, voice dropping to an equally quiet tone. 'Damnit Carter – why are you intentionally making this so hard for me to deal with?

'Sir.'

'Go get that dirty water of your... um chest; go diddle... have a talk to Jill; exercise your fingers; work the switch; adjust the controls; tickle the cat behind its ear; go dial yourself – just go take some time out to masturbate – is that any clearer?'

He ended his short litany with a look directly into her eyes. 'You'll feel better for it.'

They continued to just look at each other for a few more seconds.

'So now do you understand my reticence?'

She could only smirk at his raised his eyebrows.

'Well... go...' he made shoo-shooing motions with his hands.

'Yes sir, I understand – but if I may say so, it would seem that you could do with some similar sort of therapy too.'

'Don't be insubordinate, Carter.' His voice was gruff as he stood abruptly, body angling quickly away from her, and tugging his cap down further over his eyes. 'But as a good CO leads by example, I'll be in the throne room if anything happens – and warn me first...' With that he stalked off, his grin invisible to her.

Sam surfaced from the surrealism of the past few minutes and watched O'Neill disappear. Then checking quickly to see that Daniel was still asleep, she moved to the console and started searching for a way to get a visual link into the throne room itself; her other hand going back inside her combats.

Daniel's erection began to grow at the sight of Sam leaning forward at the ship's controls, one hand clearly playing with herself, seen by her splay-legged stance and the movement of her hand rhythmically between them within the fabric's tight constraint.