Posted June 2004
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World
Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other
characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: Defining Ground
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
RATING: (PG) for language
ARCHIVE: SJD yes. All others fine, just let me know, please.
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Pete, Sam/Jack, Team, some humor
SPOILERS: Through "Heroes 2"
STATUS: Complete
SUMMARY: Sam's dealing with the fallout of a rough year and
looking at her life without the blinders to which she's become
accustomed.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I have taken a little liberty with the rather
rushed late Season 7 timeline. I have not changed the order of
the events, but I have spread things out and padded the
"downtime" between crises a bit. Forgive my indulgence.:) And
for anyone who might be paying attention, this does NOT fall in
the same universe as my "Ice For Melting" series. This is a
whole different possible progression.:D Warnings. This is both
Sam/Pete and Sam/Jack. The story is definitely Sam/Jack 'shippy,
but if you hate Pete in all forms and incarnations, you might
want to steer clear, because in this story he is NOT portrayed as
evil rotten scum.:)
Endless gratitude to my fabulous betas, Bonnie and Polly Lynn.
You rock.
DEFINING GROUND
by
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
Copyright (c) 2004
"Is it enough to love
Is it enough to breathe
Somebody rip my heart out and leave me here to bleed."
-- "Anything But Ordinary" by Avril Lavigne,
"Orange juice," Cassie said simply, holding out a full glass to
Sam as she rushed past.
Sam nearly slammed into the glass, skidding to a halt in her
morning rush. "Wow." She took the glass and pulled in a hurried
sip. "I could seriously get used to this kind of service."
Cassie offered a fleeting smile.
Sam glanced at her watch, then slowed for a minute, leaned her
hip against the counter of the kitchen island and smiled down at
Cassandra. "Thank you," Sam said softly.
Cassie shrugged, gaze still on the history chapter she was trying
to absorb before her first hour class. "You need to eat more."
"Tell that to my hips."
"I can't, you don't have any. But, basically, you need to eat
better."
Sam nodded, swallowing another mouthful of juice. "Touche. How
about you, did you eat enough?"
Cassie looked up from her history book, slammed it closed, and
dropped it into the open backpack at her feet. "Bowl of Grape
Nuts."
Sam grinned. "What time did you get up?"
"Before the birds. Fell asleep too early last night. Had to
finish studying for my history exam this morning."
Sam winced. "Tough one?"
Cassie shrugged and slid off her stool, gaining no notable height
on Sam. Once upon a time, when Cassie's world had fallen apart,
Sam Carter had been the only safe harbor in a world of fear and
confusion. She had seemed all powerful, an Amazon of light and
kindness and strength.
Seven years later, Cassie's foundations had been rocked again.
And though time and age had brought her perception of Sam to a
far more earthly level, her dependence upon Sam's inner strength
and unconditional love had not lessened. Sam was still the
constant enabling her keep her head above water. She couldn't
imagine surviving a crisis without her.
"The test shouldn't be too bad," Cassie replied. "I just got
behind. This month." She needed no further explanation.
Sam's eyes softened, but she knew better than to offer obvious
sympathy. That was one of the best things about Sam. "Give
yourself a break," she said. "You study too hard."
Cassie looked up with blatant incredulity and a flash of mischief
in her eyes that it felt good to find.
Sam missed the irony, but then she wrinkled her nose and her
cheeks flushed with color. "Shut up. Leave me alone." Good to
see Sam grinning like a little girl, again. Too much time had
passed without that.
Cassie picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.
"Listen, LeAnn invited me to stay with her again this weekend,
and I think this time I'd like to say 'yes.'"
Sam set down her juice and pulled up straighter. "Are you sure?"
Cassie nodded. "Yeah. I mean, she's my best friend. It'll be
good. Besides," she smiled kindly, "you deserve a break. I know
you like some time to yourself, Miss Independence."
Sam reached out and rubbed Cassie's upper arm. The warmth felt
good. "No, Cass, honey..."
"Sam, it's okay. Really. I'll be back Sunday evening. Besides,
Pete's coming down this weekend, right? You need to--"
But Sam was already shaking her head. "No, Cassie, don't do this
for me. I want you here, you know that. It's fine, we can--"
"No, Sam," Cassie squeezed Sam's hand, "I'm not just doing it for
you. Honestly. It's good for me to stay busy. And LeAnn really
wants to be able to do something for me. She wants to be there
for me, and she really...this is so over her head, she doesn't
know what to do."
Sam's eyes narrowed and Cassie saw the flashback in her friend's
eyes, the flicker of memories deep in her private past. Cassie
loathed being the catalyst for that kind of pain. But she needed
Sam too much right now to muster the strength to be selfless.
"Yeah, I remember that, with my friends," Sam said softly.
Shared pain--of a type no one else understood quite so well. It
had tightened the bonds between them right from the beginning.
Sam always glossed over her own loss by comparison to what Cassie
had faced. But the pain Cassandra saw still raw in Sam's eyes
told her otherwise. Pain wasn't always as much about what
happened as about how it felt when it was happening.
"I know you remember," Cassie said. "So...if I just stay with
LeAnn for the weekend... I think she'll feel like she's doing
something for me."
Sam watched Cassandra for a long moment. Then she reached out
and smoothed Cassie's hair. "You're a pretty amazing kid to be
thinking that way right now."
Cassie shrugged. "I've had some pretty amazing role models."
Sam pulled Cassandra into a tight embrace. The girl hugged back
hard. One day, in an abandoned bomb shelter, the little girl in
Cassie had almost called this woman 'Mom'.
"Stay in touch, okay?" Sam let her go, but kept her hands on
Cassie's arms, in her hair.
"Of course. I'll call you every day."
"Every DAY? Every HOUR."
Cassie grinned. "A lot. Okay?"
"Okay. You got a ride after school?"
"Yeah, LeAnn has her car. She'll bring me by to get my stuff."
"Okay."
"Gotta go."
Sam's voice followed Cassie to the front door. "I love you."
"Love you, too. Drive SLOWLY to work!"
"Don't I always?"
*****
Sam's leg hurt. She could barely keep her focus on her
microscope. The pain was still keeping her from driving her
motorcycle to work. She had stopped taking the heavy pain meds
so she could legally drive a car, but the lighter stuff wasn't
quite doing the job. Apparently, surviving an all-out attack by
one of Anubis's drones could leave one a little worse for the
wear. She still hadn't felt back to one hundred percent since
her head injury onboard the Prometheus. Sam was starting to feel
old. It hadn't always taken her this long to heal, to bounce
back. She was developing a new respect for Colonel O'Neill. He
had been near her age when they had first begun at the SGC.
Sam tried to get lost in her work. It was amazing what else she
could forget when her mind got caught in a truly fascinating
aspect of her research. She was itching to get out in the field,
but they weren't scheduled for another offworld mission until
Tuesday and this was only Friday. In truth, they all needed the
downtime. This hadn't been an easy few months for anyone, and
General Hammond was keeping a close, fatherly eye on all the
members of his first line team. She was far behind on her lab
work. She hadn't had a chance to see Pete in far too long. This
weekend was to be their first real chance to be together for a
solid block of time. She was looking forward to the distraction,
but that life seemed somewhere far distant from the one she lived
at the SGC. She was having trouble meshing the two.
By eleven o'clock, Sam decided to break early and stop by the
infirmary on her way to lunch, find out if there was anything
else she should be doing to speed the healing of her leg. She
was halfway to Level 21, sorting through molecular variations of
liquid Naquadah, when she realized Janet wouldn't be in the
infirmary. Sam never made it for the check-up on her leg.
*****
"Why don't you eat the nuts?"
"I don't like nuts in my brownies."
"That's ridiculous. You like nuts, you like chocolate, why why
why why wouldn't you want the nuts in the brownies?"
"I don't like them there."
"But you eat Snickers bars."
"Oh, yeah."
"And that's chocolate and nuts."
"Yeah. But there's no cake."
"There's no..."
"Cake."
"Ennnhh!" Daniel gripped the back of his chair in one hand and
the edge of the lunch table in the other as he glared at Jack
O'Neill's brownie. The art was in bringing a brilliant linguist
to a complete loss of words.
Jack looked at Daniel in feigned confusion as he continued to
bite around the nuts in his brownie.
Daniel sucked in a deep breath, tore his eyes away from O'Neill
and said, "Where is Sam?"
O'Neill glanced around the commissary, shrugged. "Probably has
her head in a nuclear reactor somewhere. Generally, that's the
sort of thing that can keep her from meals."
"But this was blue Jell-O day. She knew that."
O'Neill lowered his brownie. "You know, you're right. Maybe I
should go check on her."
The klaxon drowned out Daniel's reply. "Unscheduled Offworld
Activation. Repeat, Unscheduled Offworld Activation."
"Oh, here we go," said O'Neill, dropping what was left of his
brownie onto his tray.
Carter was already in the control room when Daniel and O'Neill
arrived, her headset on and focus on the terminal screen.
"What have we got?" O'Neill asked as he and Daniel flanked
Carter.
"Don't know yet, sir. No impact events as yet, and no
discernable signals."
They watched through the observation glass above a sea of BDUs
and weaponry surrounding the sealed iris.
O'Neill nudged Carter's shoulder with the back of his hand.
"Missed you at lunch," he said softly.
She glanced toward him, a little surprised, a little distracted.
"Yeah, um...I just got involved in the lab."
"There was Jell-O," he offered pleasantly. "Blue Jell-O."
She offered another brief glance and a fleeting smile, but there
was a sadness in her eyes he could feel.
They all jumped when something slammed into the iris. Something
big.
"For cryin' out loud, what is it, a dinosaur planet?"
Sam was typing like lightning and scanning the monitor. "That
was one impressive impact. One of the largest we've had. It's
possible the--" but she broke off when the wormhole abruptly
closed.
"Wormhole disengaged," Sgt. Davis said, stating the obvious with
his usual flare.
"Can you bring up the data on the impact event for me?" Carter
glanced toward Davis.
"Really big bugs?" O'Neill suggested, arms folding loosely across
his chest.
"Anything's possible, sir," Carter replied, eyes still on the
monitor. "But I'd venture to say they were pretty intelligent
bugs if they not only activated the stargate, but recognized
almost instantly that their first traveler didn't make it
through."
"Well...it's possible they don't know," Daniel volunteered. "I
mean, couldn't they have just sent through their traveler, given
him time to make it through, then disconnected the wormhole to
wait and see?"
Sam nodded briskly. "It's possible. Except I'm finding traces
of a type of radio waves bouncing back through to the origin
gate on a feedback loop. I think it's possible the moment
whatever they sent through the stargate didn't reintegrate and
piggyback a response on the feedback signal, those at the origin
cut off the connection."
"See, how does she do that?" O'Neill asked, gesturing toward
Carter as he turned to Daniel. Daniel shrugged and squinted at
the monitor over Carter's shoulder. O'Neill turned to Teal'c,
who had taken a place behind Daniel. "It's been like nine
seconds, and not only does she have twice as much information as
we do, but she's screwed it around in her head into some kind of
logical theory. Doesn't that bug you?"
Teal'c raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," Daniel said distractedly, skimming the numbers and wave
graphs on Carter's screen.
"That bugs me," O'Neill said, aware he was now speaking to
himself.
"I'll need a full analysis of this data as soon as possible,"
Carter was saying to Davis. "There's still a chance there is
some kind of identifiable incoming signal buried in the EM noise.
If they dial in again, we need to know in advance exactly what
was sent through the first time."
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm on it."
Carter nodded to Davis as he moved away, then turned her focus to
her own terminal.
"If you come up with anything I can help translate, let me know,"
Daniel said. "I'll be up in my office, I need to finish that
report on P2C-568 for Hammond by tonight."
Carter tossed a look over her shoulder, tone softening as it
always did when Daniel was concerned. "Thanks, Daniel. I'll let
you know."
Teal'c nodded to O'Neill and took his leave as well.
They were left semi-alone at the controls.
O'Neill reached down and rubbed the back of his knuckle between
Carter's shoulder blades. "You missed lunch," he said again.
"Blue Jell-O."
"I know. I'm fine, sir."
"Looks like you'll be stuck here a while. Can I bring you
something? There's always leftover meatloaf. Of course, there
may be a reason for that..."
Carter shook her head. "No, thank you, sir, I'm fine."
"Carter."
One word. But he put everything he had into it. And only enough
for her to hear.
She heard. Her shoulders lowered a little, and she turned to
give him real eye contact for the first time since he'd come in.
The sadness washed more openly across her countenance. "Janet,"
she said softly. The one word was all they needed.
The two of them held gazes for a long moment. Carter turned back
to her keyboard. And O'Neill gripped her shoulder hard. "Tell
me if you figure anything out," he said, voice muted and hoarse.
Sam nodded.
He felt thin and helpless as he took the stairs to the briefing
room two at a time.
*****
"And if I don't make it known that,
I've loved you all along,
Just like sunny days that we all ignore
because we're all dumb and jaded.
And I hope to God I figure out what's wrong."
--"4am" by Our Lady Peace
The house was quiet. Strange how quickly Sam Carter had adjusted
to someone else living in her home.
But she was grateful for the silence, the comfort, the
familiarity. She wanted softness and warmth and peace this
evening. She wanted her leg to stop aching and for everything to
just be okay for a while and Janet to be a phone call away.
Despite the urgency she had felt toward embarking on a new
mission, in this moment she was infinitely grateful to be in the
cozy warmth of her own home rather than on hard alien ground
beneath an Air Force tent offering nothing at all like privacy.
Sam had showered and changed into a soft skirt and sleeveless
blouse, wanting to look nice, yes, but wanting to feel like Sam,
not Major Carter. She was just finishing fixing a mug of hot tea
and heading for her favorite place on the couch with a new book
on wormhole theory, when the doorbell rang.
Pete Shanahan stood on the doorstep with a box of chocolates and
an affectionate smile.
"Hey, beautiful lady," he said sweetly.
She couldn't suppress a smile. His warmth was tangible.
"Hey, you," she said softly. And she was in his arms, and his
lips were warm and soft on hers and his hair smelled of the
spring wind. She wrapped her arms around him tight.
As they pulled away, his eyes took in the length of her figure
and she couldn't deny the thrill that tickled her skin in the
wake of his approving gaze. "You look...beautiful, Sam," he said
simply.
She smiled. "You don't look so bad yourself, mister. How was
the drive?"
"In Friday evening traffic? A nightmare. But worth every minute
to see you at the other end."
She tried to keep smiling, felt the genuine pleasure at his
arrival, but showing it was starting to feel like work. She was
so tired... Sam took the chocolates Pete was still holding and
placed them on the table by the door. "Thank you," she said
softly. "That was very sweet of you."
Pete caught the vibe. He could be unnervingly perceptive. No
doubt the cop in him. "What's wrong?"
Sam shook her head. "Nothing, really. Everything's fine."
"Something happen on a mission? Are you all right?"
She took his hand, squeezed it reassuringly. "No, no, nothing
like that. Nothing you don't know about. I'm fine."
Pete narrowed his eyes, studied her expression for a long moment.
She lowered her gaze, unable to hold under scrutiny.
"Sam?"
She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. We just...it's still been
pretty rough at work, since... This was a pretty bad day. And I
just don't think...I know you drove all the way down here, but
I'm not really up for going out. I'm sorry. I know you don't
get to come down very often, and--"
Pete was shaking his head, tightening his grasp on her hand. She
found the firmness of his touch deeply reassuring. "It's all
right. It's all right. If you... Do you want--I mean, do you
want to rest, do you want me to get out of here--"
She shook her head. "No. No, I'm glad you're here." Her tone
was open, honest and simple. She breathed quietly for a moment
and Pete stood with her. Her thoughts crossed into words before
she allowed herself the time to consider. "I--can...can you just
come in, and can we sit and...I don't know, maybe watch some TV
and...can you just..."--Her throat tightened as she spoke, and
the tears burning her eyes caught her off guard. She didn't know
she was still so raw.--"...can you just...be here...?" Her
voice faded to a shaky whisper and she glanced away, suddenly
self-conscious.
Pete moved in close, breath near enough to tickle her skin. Her
pain reflected in his eyes, and the tenderness in his voice
nearly broke her composure. "Heyyyy...Samantha." His hand rose
to cradle her cheek and she leaned into his palm.
"Ssh...shh....Shhhh. I'm right here. For whatever you need."
She nodded, and he pulled her into his arms. She let herself
drink in the warmth and support, face buried in his shoulder.
*****
The television played softly in the background, largely ignored.
The sun had set, though neither of them had moved to pull the
drapes. A bright crescent moon shone above the houses across the
street, and Sam lay stretched on her back on the couch, head
resting in Pete's lap.
"I just froze," she said, gaze on the crescent moon, double-
imaged through the thick panes of glass. "I couldn't even cry.
I just stood there in the hallway and leaned against the wall and
tried not to throw-up. I couldn't even conceive of how I could
forget. Even for that moment."
"That's natural," Pete said softly. "It happens to people all
the time. Your brain, your usual patterns, they don't catch up
too fast. It takes a while, to change over all the automatic
reactions."
Sam nodded, but didn't speak. She closed her eyes.
Pete continued to stroke her hair.
"I'm so sorry, Sam," he whispered. "But at least...," he brushed
away a fresh tear as it slipped from the corner of her eye,
"...this is good."
She squinted up at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
"You're crying," he said kindly.
She understood. She closed her eyes and just breathed.
A moment later, she rolled into him, wrapping her arm around
Pete's waist and letting him pull her close as she buried her
face in his stomach.
Not much later, she was surprised when she felt herself slipping
toward sleep.
She thought she might have been dreaming when she heard the phone
ring.
*****
Pete carefully shifted his feet, pushing just that last inch to
grab the phone handset off the end table and stop the ringing
before it could wake Sam. She shifted, sighed softly, but didn't
appear to wake. She must have been exhausted. Images of black
and white film noir flickered across her pale skin from the
television.
Pete pressed the talk button and said quietly, "Carter
residence."
The response was delayed. "Uhhh....yeah, is Carter there?"
"May I ask who's calling?" Pete kept his eyes on Sam's breathing
as it evened out, tempered his voice to match the pace of her
breath.
"Uh, yeah, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill."
"Oh, Colonel O'Neill, of course. "
"And would you be...'Pete'?"
"Yes, I would. I just drove down for the weekend."
"Ah."
"Um, actually, Sam's sleeping right now. Did you need me to wake
her?"
"Oh, she's...oh, no. No, I...don't wake her."
"Okay. Can I give her a message for you?"
"Well, nothing, really. I was just...calling to see how she was
doing. I mean with...everything."
"She's tired. But she's okay." Pete didn't have much of a grasp
on Sam's relationship with Colonel O'Neill. He knew they were
friends, as well as fellow officers, but he knew better than to
give away too much without checking with Sam. He knew a woman
like Sam had clearly defined lines as to who got to see which
parts of her and when. He wouldn't betray the confidences she
had only begun to bestow in him until he knew the situation
inside and out. But, O'Neill's concern sounded genuine and he
didn't want to worry him. The two of them had lost a comrade.
That much the cop in Pete clearly understood.
"I know she's tired," O'Neill said. "Hey, how's her leg doin',
though? I mean, I think she's still favoring it, but she won't
tell me anything as long as she's determined to get out in the
field again right away. I'm not gonna hold her back, she's smart
enough to make her own call, I just..."
"Yeah, that's Sam," Pete said with a smile. "I think it's still
hurting her pretty bad, but it's getting stronger. I think she's
coming along all right." He rested a protective hand on her
thigh, wanted to inspect the wound himself later tonight.
"Good. Good to hear." O'Neill's relief was palpable.
"Still can't tell me what happened to her, I suppose?"
"Ennnhh...'fraid that one's a little too..."
"It's all right. I get it. I'm lucky just to know what I know,
I realize that. It's just...when your girl gets hurt... You
know."
The silence on the other end was too long. Pete was about to
speak, when O'Neill said, "Yeah. Yeah, I can imagine."
"Yeah."
"Yeah, well..."
Okay, time to go. "Well, I suppose I'd better stop talking
before I wake Sam."
"Oh, she's--Yeah. Well, hey, just...tell her I called, okay?"
"Will do."
They hung up.
Pete kept the phone handset close in case it rang again. Sam
shifted in his lap, eyes moving behind her closed lids. He
reached down and smoothed her hair, quieting her in her sleep.
She relaxed into his touch.
"Jack?" she whispered, not really awake.
"Yeah, he called to see how you were," Pete whispered. But she
was too far asleep to respond to his words.
*****
"Try to pull things round when the air starts to thin
We nurse regrets, restricted in our own belief
We suffer love together as one
An empty heart with nowhere to turn
We find ourselves looking back another way
A brand new day"
--"Comfort in Sound", Feeder
They walked shoulder to shoulder, taking up most of the hallway
from the commissary, shifting now and then to allow others to
pass, then falling into their comfortable formation once again.
Sam, Daniel, Jack, and Teal'c. SG-1. Family.
Sam rested a hand on her stomach as she spoke. "All I'm saying
is if you don't intend to catch any fish, why bother with the
fishing at all? I mean...isn't it enough just to sit and be in
a beautiful setting? Do you really need an excuse? I mean,
shouldn't the majesty of nature alone be reason enough to stop
and pay attention?"
O'Neill shook his head and started to speak, but Teal'c said,
"There are many insects."
They all turned and blinked at him for a moment. Teal'c raised
an eyebrow.
"The point is," O'Neill said, shooting a look at Teal'c, "it's a
kind of...Zen."
"Zen..." Sam narrowed her gaze appraisingly.
"Yeah. It's something to focus on. Keeps you..." he gestured in
the air with his hands, grasping for a word, "...centered."
She fell into an affectionate smile. "I'm impressed."
Daniel chuckled beside her. "Give it up, Sam," he said.
"I don't know, the Colonel has a point. Sometimes human beings
need that. We're very basic, when you think about it. We always
have to know what it is we're doing and why. Keeps that
fundamental, mechanical part of our minds busy while the more
aesthetic portions take in the grandeur."
"Yes, but that would be true even if there were fish," Daniel
pointed out.
"True." She looked to O'Neill for his comeback, but he only
closed his eyes and shook his head ruefully.
They had reached the main elevators. Teal'c stopped and bowed
slightly toward the group as he moved toward the elevator
signaling it was headed down. "I must prepare for my mission
with SG-7. I will be assisting in translations within a former
Goa'uld outpost."
"Yeah, you have fun with that," O'Neill said with a wave.
Sam gave Teal'c a warm smile, and his eyes returned the gesture.
"See you on Wednesday, Teal'c," she said.
"Let me know if you need any help with context of the
translations," Daniel said, and Teal'c nodded and took his leave.
"Jealous?" O'Neill asked Daniel as they stepped onto the elevator
heading upward.
"Oh, yes, terribly jealous of the time Teal'c will be spending on
one of the hottest, muggiest planets we have ever encountered
that still sustains human life, all under the command of the ever
charming Colonel McBride."
Jack winced. "Eeiiww. Who did Teal'c piss off?"
Daniel smiled. "You have to wonder."
Sam pressed the button for the 19th level.
"Hey did we ever find out who dialed in last Friday? The
big...thump?"
Sam shook her head. "Nope. They never called back. And we
couldn't make anything recognizable out of the signals we picked
up. Tried every possible playback and analysis. Either
coincidental noise, or just too alien for our technology to make
any sense out of."
Daniel nodded. "Well, you see something new everyday, around
here, right?"
The elevator doors slid open and Jack and Sam stepped out.
"I'm on up to my lab," Daniel said, pressing the button for level
18. "Into the fascinating world of archaeology."
"Well, don't get too lost in the joy," O'Neill said. "Mission
0800 tomorrow."
"Wouldn't miss it," Daniel called as the elevator doors swished
closed.
Sam and Jack continued in companionable silence.
As Sam slowed at the entrance to her lab, she realized O'Neill
seemed to have no other particular destination in mind. She
pulled out her key card and swiped it through the lock.
"So, what's on the docket for you today, Colonel?" she asked as
he followed her across the threshold. She switched on the
overhead lights and powered up her computer.
O'Neill shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Bunch of paperwork
Hammond's on me about. Wants it in by the end of the day or
something about calling off tomorrow's mission."
Sam lifted an eyebrow, failing to suppress a grin. "A little
behind, are we, sir?"
His eyes sparkled. "A little."
"So...you're in here, because..."
He cracked a sarcastic smile and nodded.
Sam pushed onto the stool in front of her laptop and brought up
her morning email. O'Neill paced the circle of her lab, hands in
his pockets, looking over the contents of the room as though he
hadn't seen most of it a thousand times. He poked briefly at a
piece of alien technology she had recently been brought for
study, and she watched him surreptitiously over the top of her
screen. He moved on before anything exploded.
"So, how's Cassie doing?" he asked, whirling to face her.
Sam looked up from her mail. "She's hanging in there. She spent
the weekend with a girlfriend. She did pretty well. She's a
tough girl."
O'Neill nodded, eyes serious. "I'm glad she's staying with you."
Sam took the compliment in silence, mood softening for the
moment. "You should come by to see her. I know she'd like
that."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that, too."
They fell quiet. Sam turned to her laptop.
O'Neill returned to his random inspection of her laboratory.
"Pete said you called Friday night."
O'Neill looked up, surprised. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
"He said there was no message. Did you...need something, sir?"
He shook his head, pursed his lips. "No. Just...checkin' on
ya."
"Oh. Well...you should have just told him to wake me."
O'Neill looked down at his boots, scuffing his heel against the
floor like an eight year old caught with a frog in his pocket.
"Nyaaaa. You were tired."
"A bit."
"Your leg doin' okay?"
She nodded. "It's fine. Thanks."
"You have a good weekend?" he asked.
"I did. Thank you. We, uh...we went out to the Garden of the
Gods. It was beautiful."
"Good. That's good."
They were silent.
"You?" she asked.
"Hunh?"
"You. Did you have a good weekend, sir?"
"Oh. Oh, yeah, fine." O'Neill sprang into action, seemingly
spurred forward by some internal declaration. "I really oughtta
get on that paperwork."
"Of course, sir," she said softly.
He moved toward the door, passed behind her. He laid a hand on
her shoulder as he passed, gave the muscles a gentle squeeze, but
broke a way a bit too sharply. As though he had remembered
something vital, broken an unspoken rule.
He was halfway through the doorway when she said, "You can still
call me, you know."
He turned, open and guileless and innocently caught off guard.
"What?"
"You can call me. And tease me. And...touch my shoulder. Just
because..."
His brown eyes deepened, but he didn't speak.
She wouldn't look away.
"Okay," he said carefully. "It's just...well I didn't want to...
I just didn't know if this...this...would change anything.
About...," he waved a hand between them, "this."
Sam slipped her tongue across her lips, heels of her hands
propped on the edge of the lab table. She shook her head. "No,
sir. It doesn't."
O'Neill nodded, deep lines creasing his brow.
Sam cleared her throat. "I mean...I think I thought, for a
while, that it might. But...turns out...it doesn't
change...anything." Her voice fell to a whisper.
Jack nodded, slow and deliberate. And she knew he heard
everything she was saying. Just as they always had.
The moment hung on forever.
Jack said, "Okay. Just...so I know."
She nodded.
He walked away.
*****
One hour later and he swung around her doorway, startling her
into nearly spilling the contents of a test tube. He probably
should have asked if there were toxic materials in there, but he
couldn't stop. He had to speak. He was riding on pure instinct,
and once reality set in...
"It was...it was always you and me, right? I mean, I just...I
always thought..."
Carter set down her test tube and pulled off her goggles. She
looked beautiful and flushed and breathless. Her blue eyes
locked hard on his brown ones. She was lost.
He held her in his gaze, pleading without words, laying himself
open before the eyes he trusted most in the world.
"You and me," he said, lacking breath. "Carter and O'Neill. All
these years, wasn't it..." his voice was nearly a whisper,
reaching out to her, for her, "...you and me?"
Her expression cracked, pain brilliant on her pale cheeks, but
she didn't speak.
He pressed forward. "I mean, not that I expect--I mean, I'm not
saying you don't have every right to--Since we can't..."
She found her voice. "I-Yes."
He blinked at her. "What?"
"Yes. It's always been...you and me. At least...for me..."
"What?"
She looked at him. Sam Carter's wide blue eyes. And he couldn't
believe what she'd just said.
"For cryin' out loud, Carter, you're the one with the cosmic IQ!
How could you not know..."
Silence.
"I mean...the..the Tok'ra memory...thing. The Xanax detector.
Didn't you realize, I was the one--"
"That was almost four years ago, sir. And time can..."
"Well, it didn't," he said firmly.
She swallowed. "Okay."
"Okay."
"So..."
"So."
The age old futility hit him full force, and he felt the weight
pulling at his features, saw the reflection of defeat in her
eyes. "Damn it," he breathed.
Even this small verbal acknowledgement hit her like a punch in
the gut. She closed her eyes, flinched, then met his gaze once
again. Her lashes were wet.
He tried to speak and found he had run out of words. He started
to reach out, but let his hand fall to his side. He looked away
from the pain on her face. Then looked back.
And it was all there in her eyes, there as it hadn't been so
clearly for nearly four years. All the need and hurt and caring
and desire and all the understanding and defeated resignation.
And he was right back there, staring at her through a fucking
invisible wall, and she was looking back at him with those
timeless baby blues and she was telling him to just...go...
"Just...don't go anywhere."
Jack blinked. He struggled to reorganize time and register
reality and the sound of her voice. Jesus, what had she just
said?
He shook his head, never looking away. "I won't," he said
simply. "Ever."
Sam gave the slightest nod of understanding. He narrowed his
eyes, weathered the impact of the moment. Then he walked away.
*****
Sam stood in her laboratory, hardly able to breathe, vision
blurring through hot tears. Every muscle in her body wanted to
bring him back. To talk to him, to touch him. To somehow fix
this. And she could still smell Pete's aftershave in her hair
from his goodbye when he left for Denver this morning and
suddenly everything hurt too much. She closed her eyes against
her tears, standing alone in the cold of their underground world.
She startled to awareness, eyes snapping open at the sound of
Daniel's voice as he rounded the doorway, giving the casing a
cursory rap with his knuckles but already talking a mile a
minute. "Hey, Sam, are you in the middle of anything? I finally
got back those artifacts from P4X-279 we requested from Area 51
about two weeks ago for Christ's sake, and--Sam? Who...hey..."
His eyes flashed with concern as she watched him scrambled to
switch gears, push up his glasses and slip his hands in his
pockets, trying to process what he was seeing in front of him as
she fought unsuccessfully to mask her emotions. He'd always had
such impeccable timing with his entrances. Daniel took a step
closer, reached out a gentle hand to touch her elbow. "Sam? Are
you okay?"
She nodded, precariously composed. Trying to speak betrayed how
near her tears lay to the surface. She sniffed and brushed at
her nose with the back of her hand. "I'm fine. Just...hard
day." She saw the confusion wash across his countenance. They
had been together at breakfast just a short time ago, joking and
smiling with perhaps the most comfortable normalcy since they had
lost Janet. Just how bad could her day have gotten on pure
principle in such a short time? He knew something had happened.
But he wouldn't push her. He would only be Daniel.
The kindness in his eyes was hard to take. She had never been
able to hide from Daniel, never been able to lie. He had been
her friend in the truest sense for so long, standing quietly by
and offering his gentle presence and supportive words to make
sure she knew he was there when she needed him. She had found
out what her life was like without him. She never wanted to take
his friendship for granted again. Friends like Daniel didn't
come around more than twice in a lifetime.
But she couldn't share this time, couldn't just spill everything,
no matter how tempting those guileless blue eyes.
"Yeah?" he said softly. He shook his head. "What happened?"
She just shook her head, cheeks burning. "It's fine." She
breathed out heavily through her mouth. Sniffed hard, pushed
back her hair. "Did you need me to look at one of the
artifacts?"
"Ummm...yeah." He didn't want to let the subject go, didn't want
to let her hide. But after a moment, he played along. He pulled
a small stack of note cards out of his pocket and moved toward a
counter, motioning her to follow. "Here, I made some notes.
What's confusing me is trying to determine the original intended
use of some of the artifacts. I originally thought they were
meant as weapons, but now, based on both my continued
translations of the surrounding materials, and the technical
analysis returned by the lab crews at Area 51, I'm starting to
think they may have been some kind of healing devices."
"Really?" She met his gaze for a moment, pulling herself into
the work, into what he was saying. She stepped up beside him
where he was spreading out the note cards covered in his hurried
scrawl. She leaned her elbows on the countertop, shoulder to
shoulder with Daniel, pouring over his notes.
He kept talking, going into full Daniel mode, prattling on about
translation difficulties he'd encountered that ultimately had no
bearing on the final question he was leading up to, but which
were of such endless interest to him, he couldn't imagine how
they weren't the same to everyone else.
And she tried to follow. She looked at the notes, and followed
where his finger pointed, and she glanced toward him when he
looked at her, and she felt the sound of his voice, but she
couldn't focus on the words.
She glanced toward the doorway, still feeling the imprint of
O'Neill's figure silhouetted there, still hearing the soft tremor
of his voice. Echoes of her weekend still fresh on her skin.
And everything was all in too vivid color and sound and
sensation. She turned back to Daniel's note cards as he spoke,
but her eyes were blurring with tears, and she had completely
lost the thread. She leaned her mouth against the heel of her
hand. Step by step, the knot in her gut clenched and the tears
slipped down her cheeks, and she slid her hand to shade her eyes,
and it was only another moment before Daniel looked her way and
his words fell away mid-sentence. Something about Goa'uld
symbols embedded in the inner layer of the casing... and then,
"Oh, whoa, whoa...hey, hey....Sam...."
She was really crying, and Daniel was touching her hair. When
she couldn't speak to answer, he moved closer beside her, hands
massaging her arms, circling on her back.
"What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong." He was lost, and probably
scared. Couldn't understand her tears. Probably had never
really seen her cry like this.
The last thing she clearly understood him to say before his words
fell to mere murmurs of comfort was, "Sam, what can I do? Tell
me what I can do?"
"You can't do anything," she managed between hoarse breaths.
"That's just it. There isn't anything to do."
She kept her eyes on the empty doorway, cheek resting on her
folded arms and Daniel's breath on the back of her neck.
And she wanted to tell her CO the word was za'TARCS. And she
wanted to see him wrinkle his nose in annoyance. And then smile--
only for her.
*****
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