Sam knew for definite that she couldn't sleep just yet – with her it was just one of those things that happened, and just now it was telling her in no uncertain terms that she might just as well forget trying any further...
It wasn't down to the dregs of adrenaline-rush from their recent escape under fire; they'd all had that, and the whole team including Teal'c in his own way, were out for the count, each peacefully dreaming away while the captured mother-ship powered onwards direction Earth.
Nor was it anything to do with the lure of captured technology now at her fingertips, tantalising her with the chance of days-long study; she was definitely used to sleepless nights from grappling with such scientific problems. She just knew that this time such stimuli were not to blame, it was her body that was the culprit.
She felt all fired up and in post combat mode. Finding itself idle, it remained itchy for something to do, insisting upon keeping her aware of this and so making it impossible for her to settle.
The mission, their stealing this ship, along with defeating pursuit over several hours, all should have seen her bushed-out and asleep like the rest – certainly now that they were safely in hyperdrive. Yes, SG 1 had done it again, against the odds – and yet again here she was, left wide-awake.
The scientist in her knew why. It was something the soldier in her encountered after joining the Stargate Program at SGC. The scientific mind knew, because it had taken curiosity by the hand, and gone off in search of answers.
PCRS or less elusively: Post Combat Release Syndrome, was the military-ambiguous title of an otherwise detailed but little known report she had found lurking on the Joint-Military Database, outlining in depth why she and many combat personnel invariably felt horny after coming through heavy action.
Despite the predictably psycho-anal babbling present in most military psychology, she found the thesis in itself engaging. As a trained mind within the body of an experienced soldier, she could dissect, identify and distil it all to clarity; then digesting what was left from the three hundred and twelve pages of cross-referenced conclusion, she had ended up feeling far better about herself.
Essentially, most combat personnel felt the need for sexual release after any intense, close-combat situations; especially those times where they had come close to death. Surprisingly it wasn't so much to do with any deep and prehistoric instincts coming to the fore, something genetically coded and locked in and merely seizing its chance during a moment of weakness – the winner's need to improve survival of the species by procreation – although some aspect of that was partially responsible too. The report focused its thesis upon this response coming from a need to celebrate, more of a relief-reflex at having survived. And being a champion of the rational over the instinctive, this conclusion was one that she fully approved of.
With swift sexual release possibly being the most immediate way to celebrate a victory, the report cited the historic need for camp followers throughout the history of warfare, even mentioning victory raping as a direct manifestation, although it thankfully dwelled there very briefly. It concluded on a pros' and cons' discussion of acceptance for tolerance toward masturbation as an alternative option, as it was logistically cheap and available almost everywhere.
The scientist part of her mind approved of the logic, and her military part had no problem with the conclusions either. Since reading the report, she'd found she could deal with it all far better - reacting in the most pragmatic way possible by bringing herself to orgasm as soon after combat as she could, wherever the opportunity was present to get away somewhere private.
Her body was of course telling her now that this was exactly what she should be doing, right this minute – just go off into the big ship somewhere and masturbate to calm her hormones, and
quickly
.
Unfortunately Jack's increasing presence in her subconscious/conscious mind had begun to add complications to this simple remedy, taking it beyond mere relief after action; Sam found that she was masturbating most nights now, whether she had seen action or not.
Glancing across at him, stretched out in sleep on the bridge command seat next to hers, she smiled quietly at seeing his lined face relaxed and at peace in that grumpy kind of way he had, although partially shielded by the peak of his cap.
Jack's ethos and adherence to the rules, wouldn't allow them to be together, not whilst both were still uniformed members of the Airforce; meaning that they couldn't go anywhere relationship wise, not just yet. Yet she also didn't feel ready to abandon that potential, and go looking elsewhere, not just yet – instinctively she felt that he was ready to crack, soon maybe.
She came out of her introspection, realising that her gaze had settled in subconscious reflection of its own, upon his crotch, and that he had a nocturnal erection, visible even in his baggy combats. She sighed and took back control of her eyes, swivelling them away from that pleasing attraction.
And that was complication number-two – she felt steadily more drawn to risking everything, by taking chances to get them in a position of complete no return.
Lately it had gone beyond the laying of her head on his shoulder during combat-naps, or other occasional contacts bordering upon the intimate, whenever the chance arose. She had kept herself in control, even when the urges had risen beyond those simple needs, but Sam wanted to make it impossible for him to ignore, to deny what they could have together by creating a
fait acomplis
situation.
She found herself looking back at his erection again, in her mind's eye toying with the image of her carefully opening his zipper and easing it out, encircling it slowly with her mouth, sliding it in as far as she could... just for a moment, before putting it back so that he'd never know, except deep down in his subconscious...
But that wouldn't be enough for her, nor would his Special Forces training allow that to happen, she was certain of it; although that hadn't stopped it being a central fantasy of hers for some months now, and even if she could never do it, the thought would remain good orgasm material – fantasy was more useful when it was all you had.