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: PLANETARY SHIFTS 2: LISTENING
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
WEBSITE: http://rowan_d.tripod.com
RATING: (PG)
ARCHIVE: All archives fine as long as you let me know.
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Pete, Sam/Jack
STATUS: Complete
SPOILERS: Through 'Gemini' (only minor for 'Gemini')
SUMMARY: He's still watching. But he's starting to listen as
well. And there's something he's missed. Something...


Endless thanks to my betas: Teddy E and Foxcat (and AnnaK for
trying :))



PLANETARY SHIFTS 2: LISTENING
by
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
Copyright (c) 2005


"I'm at a place called vertigo
It's everything I wish I didn't know
Except you give me something I can feel"
--U2, "Vertigo"



It had always been strange to see her like this. It had always
been lovely and tantalizing and sweet to see her like this.
Tonight, it was beautiful. And painful. And nothing made sense
anymore.

"Hey, Daniel, how was your Christmas?"

Jack watched as Carter embraced their friend, closing her eyes as
she held Daniel close. Daniel's arms locked tightly across
Carter's back, and it was hard not to smile, because he loved
them both. They were his family.

As Carter pulled away, her delicate earrings twinkled in the glow
of the Christmas lights Jack had so painstakingly strung about
his foyer.

She was dressed in sleek black slacks, high-heeled boots, and a
soft red sweater that folded and draped across her collarbone,
angling down to a red and green Christmas brooch he couldn't
remember having seen. He wondered if the brooch had belonged to
her mother. Once, years ago, he had overheard her telling Teal'c
of all people, that she still had a case of her mother's best
jewelry. She had treasured it for years, and only wore select
pieces on special occasions. She had said she kept a compact of
Elizabeth Arden face powder in the case with the jewelry, just
because it smelled like her mother.

Jack had felt like the world's biggest fool when he'd realized he
was jealous she had told this to Teal'c and never to him.

Here was Daniel in Jack's foyer, grinning like an idiot, despite
the fact only ten days had passed since he and Sam had seen one
another. Hell, why wouldn't he be grinning. Carter was flat-out
gorgeous.

Teal'c pushed free of the crowd hovering in the kitchen (not too
hard, most people were quick to veer out of his way) and moved
toward Carter, Teal'c-big smile coloring his massive features.
"Colonel Carter," he said with a nod, "it is good to see you."

"Hey, Teal'c," Carter said sweetly; you'd never guess what she
could do with a P-90. She took Teal'c's hand and stretched up to
kiss his cheek.

Jack didn't want to hate the fact she hadn't touched him when he
had greeted her at the door.

"And Pete Shanahan," Teal'c continued. "We are glad you could
join us."

Pete nodded as he shook Teal'c's hand. "Good to see you, too,
Teal'c. Happy New Year." Pete's free hand remained at the small
of Carter's back.

Jack had an armful of coats. He turned to carry his load to the
spare room as Daniel greeted Shanahan.

Stepping into the spare room was almost like stepping through the
gate, another world light years from the party outside. Dim and
empty here, and the rush of voices was muted to a dull murmur.
Jack tossed Shanahan's jacket on the bed, then spread Carter's
long black coat over the back of a chair. He stood for a moment,
hands on his hips, staring at the coats. Then he closed his
eyes.

Charlie had loved to be in charge of coats at parties.

Charlie had loved New Year's.

Almost better than Christmas for him, though Jack had never quite
figured out why. But the little boy had been enchanted by the
notion of the year changing in mid-air, where you couldn't really
see it. Charlie had insisted upon staying up until the stroke of
midnight each year, no matter how tired he got. If he dozed off
and his parents failed to wake him for the magical moment, he
wouldn't speak to them for days. And Jack and Sara had stopped
going out to their own parties, instead staying home to enjoy
their son's unfathomable glee.

For the first few years after...after, Jack had thought it was
better to ignore New Year's, stay home alone, drink beer and conk
out in front of a Clint Eastwood movie by eleven. Then he had
figured out it was better to be around other people, to be among
friends. That had kind of been true about a lot of things.
Yeah.

Her voice startled him from his reverie.

"Hey, sir."

He turned, found her silhouetted in the hallway light, hands in
her pockets.

"Colonel," he said, an affectionate grin tugging the corners of
his mouth. Months now, and she still got a school girl rush out
of hearing her rank, he could see it in her eyes. She grinned
and glanced downward. "I think I left my cell phone in my coat
pocket."

"Oh, horse feathers, Carter. Even a brilliant mind such as yours
shouldn't be on call on New Year's Eve."

Her smile broadened as she moved into the room and he pointed her
toward her coat with melodramatic reluctance.

"Actually, sir...," she pulled the phone from her pocket and
clipped it to the waist of her slacks, "...it's not really for
work."

Jack slid his hands in his pockets and lifted his eyebrows,
hoping for more. "Playing the ponies again, Carter?"

She flashed a quick smile, then ran her tongue over her lips.
She caught her breath, glanced to the side. Classic self-
conscious Carter.

He narrowed his eyes, waiting.

"Um...well, actually, sir, it's...my brother. He...he calls me
at midnight."

"Oh, yeah?"

A shy smile. "Yeah...we, uh...well, our Mom used to do it. When
we were growing up. Since my Dad was away a lot, a lot of years,
we just celebrated at home with just us and Mom. But, then when
my Dad was in town, he would usually take our Mom out somewhere
for New Year's Eve, and then at midnight, she would call us--and
even wake us up when we were little--and say Happy New Year. And
then when we were older and Mark and I would be off somewhere
with our friends, Mom would call us wherever we were. Both of
us, right in a row. Then...well, the first year after our Mom
died...at midnight, Mark called me over at my friend's house.
Just so the phone would ring. And then he kept it up. Even when
we weren't really...getting along otherwise. With my Dad,
and..." she faded off.

"That's really nice," Jack said softly, fueling the simple phrase
with as much depth as he could muster.

It must have been enough. Or maybe it was the dim light, or the
warming spirit of the Holidays. But instead of the usual quirk
of the eyebrow and fumbling exit that followed any Carter
revelation, he was rewarded with a wistful smile and solid eye
contact. "Yeah," she whispered.

They stood together. Silent and comfortable in the softly
colored light. Then, Carter said, "Well, shall we, sir?" and
motioned toward the hallway.

"After you."


*****


It was only 9:30 and Siler was unbelievably drunk. Daniel and
Lewis had already pulled him down off the porch railing twice,
and that new blonde guy from the infirmary with the needle
technique reminiscent of Frasier's had swiped Siler's car keys.

Jack was staying largely sober in the interest of preserving his
house (if not his commanding dignity), and he was feeling only
pleasantly warm from the beer. It was good to see everyone
having a decent time. Kicking back and letting off steam were
things that rarely held sway at the SGC. And Jack took no small
amount of pride in the fact that even after months as Brig. Gen.
O'Neill, Commander of the SGC, the men and women of the
installation were comfortable enough to get drunk off their asses
at their commanding officer's house.

He strolled through his crowded home, stopping in the kitchen to
reload a couple of bowls of chips. One he left on the center of
the kitchen table, the other he carried out onto the back deck.
Only a handful of people were braving the cold, but enough folks
had passed by here to drain the provisions he had initially
provided.

Jack dipped a chip in the sloppy tub of salsa and carried it with
him to the far end of the deck. The night sky was clearing of
its earlier cloud cover, and he was feeling the urge to have a
look through his telescope while the picking was good. But
disappearing to serve his own interests was rude enough when he
was a guest, let alone as the host of the party. He settled for
sitting back on the railing and picking out constellations with
the naked eye while he munched his corn chip.

He didn't even realize they were there until Carter giggled and
drew his attention to the foot of the stairs leading to the yard.

She and Pete were seated on the lowest step, shoulder to shoulder
and looking up at the sky.

Pete pointed up at the stars and said something to Carter.

Jack couldn't quite make out enough of the words to follow their
conversation. But it didn't matter. He felt everything in the
tones.

Carter followed Pete's eye line, then looked at him and smiled.
She said something through her grin then, and as Pete returned
the smile, she fell into that deep-throated laugh that had always
been so rare and more contagious among SG-1 than yawns on
graveyard shift.

Jack heard Pete try to keep up his act, falter, then dissolve
into laughter mid-sentence. Pete was as susceptible to Carter's
charms as anyone.

And Carter...Carter was flirting like a sixteen-year-old.
Huddled up with Pete, in their own private bubble amidst the
crowd, her blonde hair soft, freckles showing and nose crinkling.
She was snuggled into the oversized bomber jacket that had
arrived here on Pete, her hands gone inside the sleeves and knees
hugged to her chest.

This was the part Jack hadn't understood from a distance, the
part he hadn't wanted to know. But he couldn't look away.

He hadn't wanted to see the connection between Carter and
Shanahan. Hadn't wanted to see she was with him because he made
her smile. And made her feel as beautiful as she didn't know she
was. And let her be...normal. Happy.

Sitting here, under the stars, laughing at made-up
constellations, Carter didn't have to be the only woman smart
enough to keep saving the world. She only had to be...Sam.

Just...Sam.

Yeah. His Sam.


*****


All these years, and he'd had no idea Daniel could limbo. He
really didn't look the type.

But Daniel and a young Lieutenant and Felger--yes, Felger--were
the last three standing in a limbo contest that was fast becoming
the center focus of the party.

Teal'c was DJ-ing for the competition, which was making for some
rather...unique...selections, and the spectators were clapping
and cheering and showing just how much alcohol they'd consumed.
Jack wondered in passing how many people would still be passed
out around his house when the sun rose.

He watched the competition for a while. Even found himself
laughing and cheering a bit. You couldn't help it. The spirit
was contagious.

He saw Sam and Pete come in the back door and join the crowd.
They watched for a while, too. Pete's arm around Sam's waist,
she leaning into him as she stood, still wearing his jacket.
Then Pete glanced at his watch, and Sam nodded, and they started
toward the door.


*****


Sam Carter shivered at the blast of cold air as they stepped onto
Jack's front walkway. The back porch must have been more
sheltered. Or she'd adjusted to the cozy warmth inside more than
she'd thought.

"You all right, Babe?" Pete asked, rubbing her upper arms.

"Yeah, it's just cold. The temperature's dropped."

He nodded. "Supposed to snow again tomorrow, I think."

"Could be. Are we still going to try to catch a movie?"

"Sure, Babe, whatever you want."

"Good."

They gazed at one another for a moment, and the warmth between
them made her smile. "Hey," she breathed.

"Hey, yourself," Pete said with a gentleness that touched
something deep within her.

He leaned in for a tender, lingering kiss, and his lips were soft
and warm in the cold air. He tasted like candy canes and
chocolate brownies.

"I wish I could stay," he said, close enough for his breath to
heat her cheek.

"I know. But believe me, I have no room to complain about the 'I
have to work' excuse."

Pete cracked a wry smile. "Yeah, you got me there." He rubbed
at her arms again. "You all right here on your own?"

"I'm fine, sure. I probably won't stay too late."

"Yeah? You gonna drive yourself home? You sober? You've had a
few..." The genuine concern in his eyes warmed her stomach.

"I'm fine. Promise."

"No more tonight?"

She shook her head. "No more."

"Okay. I'll call you later."

She grinned. "I know." And the smile spread between them.

Pete cupped a hand to her cheek, leaned in for another gentle
kiss. "Happy New Year, Babe," he whispered.

"Happy New Year. Oh, your jacket..." She shrugged out of the
thick, warm leather, and passed it over.

"Oh, yeah, thanks." Pete took a step back, catching hold of her
hand. He held her gaze for a long moment. "I love you," he said
softly.

Sam lifted his hand to her lips and placed a lingering kiss on
his knuckles, then she rested her cheek against his hand, eyes
closed.

"'Night," she whispered.

And he walked away.


*****


Felger hit the floor like a ton of bricks, and the young
Lieutenant was declared the winner. The prize was the privilege
of choosing the music for the next two hours. Jack hoped the kid
had decent taste. In the end, of course, he was limited by
Jack's CD collection, so it couldn't turn out too badly.

Damn. He'd forgotten all about that unfortunate Bee-Gees
incident.


*****


She couldn't go back inside. Pete had pulled away, and Pete's
car had pulled away, and she'd been left alone without her coat,
and she had turned to retreat into the warmth of friends and
celebration, but her stomach had dropped through the floor, and
she'd felt more like crying than she had since the hours after
her Replicator clone had vanished through the gate.

So she was sitting on the concrete step of Jack's front porch and
she was starting to really feel the cold. But she couldn't go
inside. She was too unsteady, uncertain; incapable of sorting
through the sensory rush. She felt the heat of tears warming her
eyes and she let the icy wind whisk them away. The contrast of
the cold stung the edges of her lids. She tucked her arms across
her stomach and pulled her knees in close.

The air smelled of coming snow. And she didn't know why it hurt.

Or maybe she did.


*****


He'd been staring into his thin plastic cup, half-drained of beer
and squishing in his fingers. He'd been staring at the street
lamp across the way; squinting at the barely visible stars in the
winter sky. Anywhere but at the woman on his front step. Seeing
her all the same.

He'd been standing by the window too long for the host of the
party. Someone was bound to notice and wasn't it always Daniel.

A Pepsi can tapped Jack's arm. Probably wise for someone of
Daniel's coordination to have forgone the flimsy cups. Although
there was that limbo thing...

"Hey," Daniel said, sipping at his Pepsi. He was designated
driver tonight. For Teal'c and a couple of geeks from the lab.
Last year he'd been on the floor by ten o'clock. The year before
he'd been...gone.

"Hey," Jack offered, surprised by the flatness in his voice. It
felt foreign, interacting with another person. He didn't realize
how quickly he'd pulled out of reality.

"Regretting having opened your house to the masses?"

Jack looked up at his friend, blinked a few times as he searched
for meaning in the words. "What? Oh...naanh. They're good
people. They all deserve a break."

Daniel nodded. "I'll drink to that." He took a sip of his Pepsi
and looked down in companionable silence.

Jack tried to keep his eyes away from her.

Daniel followed his gaze out the window.

"Is Sam still out there?" Daniel stepped closer, seeking a
better view. "I thought she went out to see Pete off a long time
ago."

"She did. He left," Jack said simply.

Daniel stared at Jack for a moment, but Jack failed to lift his
gaze. Daniel turned his attention to the window. "Well, okay,
then why--did--hey." Daniel leaned into the glass, pushed up
his glasses. "Hey...is she crying?" Daniel whipped his head to
face Jack again, tone dripping incredulity. And something like
accusation.

Jack grimaced. After a beat too long, he said, "'Think maybe."

Daniel's mouth worked for a few moments before he gathered the
words to speak, and Jack contemplated his beer and wanted the
world to go away.

Daniel's tone was biting. "I'm sorry, and you're still in here,
because..."

Jack closed his eyes. He let go a heavy sigh and realized how
tight his chest felt. He'd forgotten to breathe for a while.
Maybe he was too old for this..all this. "Because it's none of
my business," he said.

The eyebrows went up. Always the eyebrows. Sometimes it was
funny. Quite often it was funny. Tonight Jack just didn't
want...just...didn't want... "None of your business," Daniel
parroted.

Jack set down his beer on the windowsill and turned to face his
friend. He stared him down hard, and Daniel's throat muscles
tensed as he swallowed. "Things change, Daniel. And that--"
Jack waved a hand toward the window, "--is none of my business."

"Really."

Jack let slip a flash of bitter sarcasm. Even this little
glimpse fueled Daniel's righteous indignation. Jack fought the
urge to walk away.

"Okay," Daniel began with false calm, "you say things change.
So...Sam is no longer your friend?"

Jack struck back on gut instinct. "Hey! This isn't about
that. Of course, she's my friend. She's always my friend."

The two men locked gazes. The air in the room felt heavy with
the heat of close-packed bodies, and the sounds of companionship
blurred into white noise.

Daniel broke the impasse. "All right, well, all I know is that
whatever has or hasn't or will someday change, or whatever
reality or parallel universe or timeline I happen to be in--if
Sam Carter is crying, then I go and I sit beside her. Maybe even
put my arm around her. Because she's my friend. So, if you'll
excuse me..."

Daniel was four steps away when Jack said, "Wait." He sounded
more like a General again. Daniel turned.

"I'll go," Jack finished.

Daniel studied him, seeming to weigh his judgement between a
reluctant attempt at too little too late, and the deeper notion
that maybe Jack had been contemplating going to Sam all along,
and just hadn't worked up the strength.

The latter was the truth. And Daniel finally saw it.

He nodded, smarminess gone. "Okay," he said softly.

Jack nodded.


*****


Carter turned ever so slightly as he stepped off the stoop.
Knees popping audibly, he lowered himself to the shallow step,
and without a word he spread his jacket across her shoulders.

Carter was startled for a moment, then pulled the jacket close
around her, shivering at the added warmth. "Thanks," she said
softly. He caught the lack of 'sir'.

Jack nodded, squinted out at the quiet street. "It's cold," he
said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah." She sniffed, swiped at her nose, and he knew she really
had been crying.

"You know," he said into the silence, "I know my parties aren't
the famed knock-you-out-for-a-week bashes of my wilder youth, but
generally, they don't leave my guests..."

"...out in the snow crying?" she finished, eyes now bright with
tears.

"Yeah."

She looked down past her knees. "It's a great party, sir.
Everyone's having a really good time."

He took that in, then added, "'cept you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, but didn't reply. He watched
the shape of her breath in the chill air.

Jack gripped his knee, rubbed the stiff tendons for a moment,
then said, "I thought...I mean, it seemed like you were having a
pretty good time. Before."

Carter nodded, released a sharp breath through her nose that
echoed bitterness. "I had a wonderful time. It was all perfect.
All my friends around me, happy. None of our team Offworld or
hurt or...ascended. Beautiful night out here." She waved a hand
toward the deep black sky.

"And Pete..."

"...was wonderful, too. We were at our best tonight, you know?
He was sweet and charming and caring and it all..." Her voice
faltered and she took a beat to regroup. "Everything
was...perfect."

Jack watched her profile in the gentle glow from the porch light.
The greyish blonde of her hair by moonlight, the smooth line of
her cheek, tender mouth that could make her look twelve years old
when she was scared. And the scars of past hurts drawn in the
lines of her face, too deep for someone her age. She rarely let
them show. Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter.

"What happened?" he asked.

Carter wrinkled her nose, shook her head. "Nothing. I said
goodnight to Pete. He's on duty at eleven. He took the holiday
shift since he's the new guy in the precinct."

Jack's voice softened, and the easy intimacy scared him.
"Carter..."

She looked down at the sound of her name, the verbal caress. And
with no conscious thought, Jack reached his hand over and slid
two fingers around Carter's wrist. Her skin was cool, her pulse
strong. She was his Carter; and she was someone else.

Carter's gaze darted to his fingers the moment he met with her
skin. She stared at the point of contact, and he felt her pulse
quicken.

She closed her eyes.

She pulled away.

"Oh, Christ..." She sounded ill.

She was pushing to her feet before he realized what was
happening. "I'm sorry, sir, I just...I have to go..."

He was up beside her in an instant, cringing at the abuse of his
knees. "Carter, wait, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, but the tears in her eyes caught the glare of
the porch light. "Nothing, sir. I'm fine. Thank you. For the
party. It was lovely. But, I really...I have to go."

She took a fumbling step backward down the walk, found her keys
in the pocket of her slacks. "Carter..." He was lost, hands
useless at his sides and mind spinning and coming up empty. All
too fast. "Carter, it's..." He had to speak. Had to speak
before it all slipped through his fingers...

"...it's not even midnight," he offered lamely.

Carter just nodded, moving away.

...like water...

"And you haven't even got your coat."

She glanced down, seemed to realize she was still wearing his
jacket, let it go.

...through a sieve...

"Could you bring it to me on Monday, sir?" She was beside her
car door, him trailing a few yards behind.

...and he was left...

He shrugged, helplessly. "Well...yeah, sure, I...Carter... you
sure you're all right?"

...alone on his front lawn...

She nodded again, hand resting on her open car door. "I'm fine.
I just have to go. Tell the guys I said goodnight, okay?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

...with nothing but the cold...

"Happy New Year, sir."

"Carter...I--" he released a heavy breath. "Happy New Year."

...and silent moonlight...

A single nod before she climbed in her car and gunned it down the
driveway without so much as a moment to heat the engine.

...with nothing but a memory...

The gears whined at the abuse, but responded to her skillful
demands.

...of the warmth of her skin...

Her car vanished around the street corner, sizzling on the fresh
sheen of snow.

...and echoes of her trembling breath...


*****

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