Twist of Fate
What will be, will be.
Trusting in those kinds of things? Highly overrated. And could lead to some pretty irking outcomes.
Sam shifted in her seat, discarding mental topic number twenty-six for the morning.
If only she could...
She did her best not to fidget, but she hadn't felt this strong of a desire in a really, really long time. Frankly, the urge was overwhelming. Her fingers should be moving right now, instead of being held still. She scuffed the toe of her shoe into the wood, looking down at the kicked up splinters. Which spawned mental topic number twenty-seven.
Did little, tiny bugs live in that wood? Were they happy?
Damn. The inactivity was really starting to drive her batty.
It hadn't helped things that she was actually witnessing the passage of time in shadow form. Of course, giving in to her current impulse would no doubt result in technoside. And she was *very* attached to her laptop. So there she sat, baking in the sun, her computer crying out to her from its place inside beside her bed.
Logically she knew that the Colonel went fishing, but in all actuality she didn't fully believe it. Somewhere in her mind maybe a part of her thought that fishing was really some obscure metaphor for something else...something *way* more interesting than this (mental topic number five).
But for some strange reason she had promised to spend the whole morning fishing with him. They started at 5 a.m. and at precisely noon she was cutting him off. Apparently fishing and talking did not go hand-in-hand. So she'd be up to at least eighty topics by then. Although, number five had been quite interesting and probably deserved to be revisited.
Sam patted the splinters with her foot. She should have listened to Teal'c.
At least she had finally said yes to the cabin.
Mental topic number twenty-eight sprang to life. It really was a very nice cabin. She had expected something smaller...and for some reason logs and crates being used as furniture. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. And no outhouse either. However, there were a disturbing number of duck pictures on the walls...
Sam snapped out of her daze as the sound of footsteps behind her echoed off of the dock, causing small vibrations to wiggle the end of her pole. She turned her head, peering out from underneath her cap.
"You guys want anything to drink from the house?" Sam's favorite Kelownan asked with a grin.
Sam glanced at her CO sitting in the chair beside her.
Destiny had taken a left turn.
Sam walked into the commissary, the smell of "Sloppy Joe Surprise" hitting her in the face. Almost six years...and there was still no way she was going to ask what the surprise was. She grabbed a tray and pushed it along the line. The carton of milk had just found its way to her tray when she heard it. That familiar shuffling sound - the one where he kept his hands in his pockets.
Sam turned and gave her CO a smile. Standing in the doorway, he nodded back to her.
She picked up her tray and headed for a table, waiting for him to join her. Or get some food first, if he remembered. She was getting concerned that she may have fried his mind. He kept following her around with that same stunned expression that first appeared earlier in the day - the moment she had agreed to go up to his cabin for a short vacation.
It wasn't *that* big of a deal. Was it?
Just two coworkers. Friends. Spending some downtime together.
At a remote cabin.
Miles from any other people.
Just the two of them.
Hmm. Maybe she hadn't thought this completely through.
Aw hell, who was she kidding? Of course she had thought this through. And right now she was in a very "what will happen, will happen" kind of mood. Somewhere in the last few weeks she had started thinking about leaving it all up to Fate. And it looked like Fate was leading her up to his cabin.
A slightly different shuffling sound came up behind her, and then beside her as he came into view. At least he had picked up some food... He plunked down his tray.
Sam stared at the plate full of pickles.
Maybe she should have warned him about her change in attitude. If she didn't...know him so well, it would have been that exact moment she would have called the whole thing off. She repressed her urge to snap her fingers in front of his face.
"So sir, what kind of clothes should I pack?"
She leaned her head forward slightly, trying to snap him out of his daze using eye contact. "Trip. Minnesota. What kind of clothes should I bring?"
"Oh," he said, shaking his head slightly and appearing to have finally rejoined normality. "It'll be pretty cool. Lots of layers." He shot a confused, disgusted look at his plate.
"Colonel. Sam. Hey," Jonas sat down at a vacant chair, looking perplexed at the heavily pickled plate. "Are you pregnant, Colonel?"
Sam barked out a laugh.
Jonas gave Sam an amused look before turning back to the Colonel. "Well, isn't it tradition for a pregnant woman to crave pickles?"
"Good one, Jonas," the Colonel said flatly while sniffing at a limp pickle. He threw it back on the plate.
"So, you guys have any plans for our downtime?" Jonas asked before shoving a fork full of salad into his mouth.
"Actually..." Sam trailed off. Why did telling someone else about their plans seem not quite right?
The Colonel picked up her sentence. "Actually, Carter and I are heading up to my cabin," he grinned.
Hearing the words coming out of his mouth just then thrilled her. The two of them. At his cabin.
"Ah, Minnesota." Jonas put down his fork. "Land of ten thousand lakes. Capital is St. Paul. Did you know the Red Pine is the state tree?" he asked. "Must be a nice place. Maybe someday I'll even get to see it..." He trailed off, a dreamy look in his eyes.
SG-1's CO shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe."
"So, you guys take vacations together often?" Jonas asked with an all- too innocent expression.
Sam choked on her milk. He had to wait to ask the question while she was drinking, didn't he? "No!" she said with a cough.
"Jonas, it's not really a vacation," the Colonel said quickly.
"Oh? How so?"
"Carter's coming up to..." he stared wide-eyed at the table, "...fix a car I keep up there." He looked up at her. "Right Carter?"
What? Oh boy. "Uh, huh. Fix his car," she said, avoiding both of their gazes.
"Really? Wow! Cars are so interesting! I've read every book in the base library on them. I find them completely fascinating."
They had books on cars in the base library?
Jonas fixed a determined stare on their team leader. "Colonel, I *know* I could help you with your car. I'd love to take a look at it."
Sam knew the expression on her CO's face all too well. It was the look he had when he was about to tell someone to take a hike using some extremely creative wording. She hadn't heard "bite me" in a while. Wonder if he would use that? She leaned forward, staring at his opening mouth while trying to make quick guesses at what phrase would be first.
Well, that was a new one.
Sam swiveled in her chair, starting to stand. "Sir."
The General waived her down. "At ease people. Just stretching my legs."
"Have a seat, General." The Colonel motioned to the remaining empty chair.
"No thanks. Just passing through." His gaze landed on the plate of pickles, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "So, what do you people have planed for your free time?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from the plate.
Sam turned back around to her CO, pursing her lips. She was going to let him field that question.
"Well...uh..." he started to say.
"Teal'c's heading offworld and Sam's going to help the Colonel with his car up at his cabin," Jonas blurted.
Was it possible to hear an eyebrow being raised?
"I see," said the General.
Sam involuntarily hunched at the voice from behind her. Why did she feel like she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar?
She couldn't see the General's expression, but she could see the Colonel's: blind panic.
Metal legs of his chair screeched against the floor as he quickly stood up. "What Jonas meant to say was that *he* and Carter are coming up to my cabin." He turned around, raising his voice. "And anyone else that wants to come. You're all invited. To my cabin. Really."
Silence descended upon the room, broken by the sound of a fork hitting a plate. Sam could have sworn she heard someone whisper, "What the hell?" as all eyes turned to the Colonel.
"No takers?" he asked quickly. "Fine." He sat down.
"Well," the General remarked, "since SG-1 is the only team down right now, it would appear it's just going to be you three."
The Colonel shot Sam a look that was probably an exact mirror of her own before replying. "Yes, sir. Just the three of us."
Apparently Fate had just bit her on the ass.
Sam took the Diet Coke from Jonas' hand and set it down beside her. "Thanks."
"No problem. So you guys catch anything yet?"
"Nope," came the reply from the seat next to her.
"Sir," Sam sighed, "I don't think we're ever going to catch anything. There's just no fish." (Mental topic number fifteen.)
"Hey," he shot back, the beginnings of a grin on his face. "There are fish. Really, really big fish."
Sam put her pole in between her knees and held out her hands. "Yeah, I know. *This* big," she said stretching out her arm as far as they would go.
"Smart ass," her CO smirked.
"Can't help it. I get that way when lied to about fish size." She grabbed her pole back and gave him her best smart-ass grin.
"I'm afraid to ask, Carter, but just how often are you lied to about fish size?"
"Way more than you even want to know about," she said with a snort.
"I never joke around when it comes to fish size, Carter."
Dammit if they weren't grinning stupidly at each other.
"So, how big do the fish get?"
Sam and the Colonel turned to the voice coming from behind them. Jonas. She turned her head back out to the lake.
"Mmm, pretty big," she heard her CO mumble.
Jonas wedged his way between the sitting pair before parking himself in front of them at the edge of the dock. "This is great! Lucky thing I happened to go to lunch late the other day," he said as he dangled his feet over the end.
"Yeah, must have been Fate," the Colonel muttered.
Sam started at his choice of words, jerking her hand slightly and making her pole flick. She knew they were often on the same wavelength, but didn't know how much to chalk up to plain coincidence. Perhaps that should be topic number...damn. She lost count.
Jonas let out a relaxed sigh as he stared out over the water. "It's so beautiful up here. Boy, things really couldn't be more perfect, could they?" he asked.
Her eyes met the Colonel's, but instead of finding annoyance there, she saw a twinkle. An extremely mischievous twinkle. Her own eyes narrowed in reflex.
Maybe she should have said something as she watched her CO raise his foot behind Jonas. A discouragement? A warning?
But then, what will be, will be. Right?
Foot made contact with back.