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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http://rowan_d.tripod.com/