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Story Notes: Waiting Time - EMAIL: jagoll@hotmail.com

RATING: PG

ARCHIVE: Sam and Jack and Heliopolis. Others sites, please ask permission.

DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM, World Gekko Corp., and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

SUMMARY: Jack's thoughts on Sam as he waits for her in "The Fifth Race"

SERIES/SEQUEL: Quiet Time and Grieving Time. See Author's Notes.

SPOILERS: Children of the Gods, First Commandment, First Season. Secrets, The Fifth Race, In the Line of Duty, A Matter of Time, Tok'Ra, Second Season.

CATEGORY: Missing scene, Angst.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I have decided to turn these stories into a series called "Moments in Time" since my muses insist on coming up with more ideas set along the lines of these stories. The only order for them, is when the episodes they are based on, aired on TV.

Feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

DATE: 06/09/1999

Copyright Jena Bartley, September 1999.


It sits there, mocking me, an alien device built by human hands. I designed it. I scavenged the parts for it. I built it and now it sits there silently mocking me. Correction. They built it, using my body, my hands, alien voices growing stronger in my mind, taking over my body, pushing me ever so slowly out of my own body and mind. I'm no more then a tool, a body with hands and feet only there to do their bidding. Now, the voices that have been pushing me to build the device are silent. No explanation about what they want or why they force me to build this. Instead, I'm compelled to do what they want or else go mad. Sometimes, I feel I'm already there. Feel myself retreating further and further into my brain as they take over more of me, forcing me out of my own body, reduced to a tool for their pleasure and convenience.

Daniel enters the room. One look at his face and my stomach clenches. Something is very wrong. His eyes just scream it, his body tense with worry and something close to fear. He looks from the machine to me before gesturing for Doc Fraiser and I to follow him. Not good at all. He barely noticed what I had built, asking only a token question instead of the many he bombards others with. He takes us to his lab, clutching a video tape.

"Alright. I didn't want to tell you before because I thought you had enough on your mind. Sam, Teal'c, and the rest of SG-1 are in trouble. The DHD on P9Q-281 isn't working. They can't get home. To make matters worse, there is a very hot sun rising. They don't have much time."

My blood freezes as I listen to him. He puts a tape in the VCR and my captain appears, fear in her eyes. Fear and resignation that she and the others are going to die. Her expression says it all. She has tried everything, thought of everything but nothing has worked. The harsh, blinding light of the brutal suns pours over her. All I can do is stare at her, grief starting to rise up. My bright, beautiful captain is going to die. And there is nothing anyone can do to help her. If she can't fix it, the leading expert on the stargate's inner workings, then there is no hope.

Daniel freezes her image, turning to look at me. "Look. No one else believes that you have the knowledge of the original gate builders in your head right now except me."

As he speaks, an image suddenly appears in my mind. I reach for it, embracing it eagerly instead of trying to block it out. I need something to write on. Paper, pencil, ruler. My hands start drawing, giving in to the alien knowledge swamping my mind. Doc and Daniel's voices intrude on the flow of information. I write a note telling Jackson to shut up and go away. As they leave, I let my hands flow over the paper, willing slaves to whatever is taking over my mind.



*****



The stargate opens and the cylinder containing the solution to fixing the DHD is tossed into it. Lieutenant Simmons monitors its travel through the stars.

"The object has reached its destination, Sir," he announces and the Gate shuts down.

"Now, we have to hope those instructions were right," Hammond says, looking over at me.

I don't respond, focussed solely on the gate and hoping. *Let it work. Please let it work.* The voices in my head start cambering for my attention, my obedience. With an effort, I ruthlessly shove them back into a corner of my mind. I can't, I won't let them take control of me until I know my people are safe and home. And there is nothing I can do to help them out there, except hope like hell the plans I drew will fix the DHD.

Around me, the control room settles into an uneasy vigil. Waiting, hoping, praying. They are doing a better job of it then I am. I hate standing around doing nothing, My body is tense, humming with the need to do something, anything. Always before, I was with my team in whatever mess we had stumbled into. Waiting was left for those at home and it was driving me crazy. Leaving me with too much time to think. To imagine Sam lying dead under the blinding light of dual suns, her skin burned black and blistering from the intense heat, crystal blue eyes staring sightlessly into the sun.

A shudder runs through me as this picture blossoms into full detail in my mind. Taking a deep breath, I shove the image back into the corner of my mind, to accompany the alien knowledge residing there. I won't even consider the very real possibility of Carter dying. I can't consider it. Logically, I know that kind of thinking has no place in the SGC. Not with the kind of work we do and the high mortality rate. But my heart refuses to contemplate the idea of my captain's death. All that passion and intelligence, vanished in an instant. Leaving me alone again with the darkness in my soul.

Selfish, I know, to want her to live only to ease my own personal demons. The ones that haunt me late at night, whispering about the mistakes I made, the lives lost under my command due to my decisions. Taunting me for my carelessness in securing my weapon in a safe place in my own home. Forcing me to relive over and over again the sound of a gunshot echoing, the sight and stench of my son's blood splattered over the floor and walls. To remember, in exquisite detail, the hell my Iraqi tormentors put me through, mentally, physically and emotionally. Demons calling up nightmares that even the most hardened horror movie fan would run screaming from.

Then she came along, casting a light into the deepest reaches of my darkened soul. I didn't want to like her when I met her. Another scientist, regardless she was also an Air Force Captain. A scientist is a scientist no matter what else they also claim to be. But she proved me wrong, with her dedication and loyalty to the Air Force, becoming a second in command that any officer would die for. Unafraid of questioning my decisions when she felt it was warranted it but always backing me up in the end, regardless of how she felt about it.

She constantly amazes me with the balancing act she performs between being a scientist and a military officer. Something I could never do even if I had the desire to do it. I see the strain it causes her, trying to be both people. I certainly don't help her, always looking to her for all the answers and solutions to whatever mess we are currently in. Every time I order her to find a solution no matter how impossible the situation may be, I can see her shutting down, her eyes darkening in resignation and frustration. It hurts me to see that. I know she isn't superwoman, I know how much pressure I put on her. I also know she feels she must always succeed, to not let me down. I want to tell her sometimes that it's alright if she fails, that I won't look at her any different if she can't solve the problem, but I can never find the words or even the gestures to convey that message.

I hide behind sarcasm, letting it mask the pain I'm always feeling. The dark places that now invade my soul and mind. Darkness that seems to recede the longer I am with my Captain. Her passion, the way her whole body lights up in the discovery of some new bit of knowledge. The way her smile brightens up any room she is in. Her vivid blue eyes seemingly able to penetrate the darkness surrounding me. Somehow, she has crept deep inside of me, bringing her light with her. I've become more open with her and the rest of my team in a way I haven't since Charlie's death. She is my friend, my second in command. And if there was no regulations or protocol, she would have been my lover by now.

I want her and she wants me. We dance around it, flirting with each other, ending just shy of violating the rules. We are tuned into the other in a way I've never experienced. Like today, she was the one who found me in the weapons room instead of Daniel, my best friend, or Teal'c. Both of us know it's more than physical attraction between us. If it was only that, we probably have slept together and got it out of our systems or just completely ignored it. But it's far more than that. I'm not ready to handle another relationship, I'll only mess it up and that is the last thing I want to do with Sam. Not to mention the rules against fraternization in the Air Force and how it will affect the team dynamic. I don't want to deal with any of that; a casual affair or one night stand is all I want right now. When we become lovers, it will be more than just a casual affair, so much more. I'm half in love with her now. The move to being lovers will only deepen that, becoming stronger and more lasting.

I think she feels the same way about a relationship between us. She has never pushed for anything more or even hinted at it. I know she was deeply affected by her relationship with Jonas Hanson and her attraction to what she calls the 'lunatic fringe'. Of which, I willingly admit, I'm part of. Then there are the emotions and memories she is trying to cope with after being possessed by Jolinar. Jolinar's feelings towards Martouf have drawn her to the Tok'Ra. She doesn't know if she's attracted to him or if Jolinar's feelings are influencing her.

So for now, we flirt madly with one another in view of everyone else, letting the rest of SGC be our chaperones. And every once in a while, we steal moments of time to enjoy the pleasure of one another. A quiet bath to ease the aches of a mission, sharing the comfort and warmth of another body in bed to ease the pains of grief over a dying father or curb the demons that haunt us in the darkest hours of the night. Small touches and gestures expressing our feelings towards each other.

The sound of the gate starting up, jolts me out of my thoughts. Simmons goes through the procedure of verifying the incoming code and opening the iris. All eyes focus on the shimmering blue-white light of the stabilized wormhole.

Sg-1 steps out of the light. More like stumbles out, exhausted and drained of all energy by the intense heat. There are blisters on her face as she greats the General. I hear her say the plans were perfect and ask who came up with them. Hammond moves aside with a small smile and Carter looks at me.

"Colonel?" A question in her voice and eyes.

I shrug, hands in my pockets, a little boy who's not entirely sure what he just did.

Teal'c approaches me, his face grave. "I'm sorry, O'Neill," he apologizes. "We could not find a way to help you."

He moves away, and I look at Sam. She ducks her head in sorrow and regret. Doc takes her arm and gently pushes her toward the infirmary. The gateroom grows quiet as SG-1 and the medical personnel filter out.

I wander out after them, unsure what to do and where to go. For once, nothing is driving me since this whole mess started. The alien knowledge that has been badgering me is quiet. So I wander aimlessly through the base.

Stopping abruptly, I find myself outside of the locker room. Without hesitation, I go inside. The sound of running water grows louder as I move deeper inside. A large, fluffy towel and clothes sit on the bench just outside the showers. I pick up the towel and walk into the area.

Sam stands under the nearest showerhead, cool water flowing over her heated skin. I wait patiently for her to finish, quietly enjoying her naked beauty. She shuts the water off and slicks her hair back. As she turns to me, I hold the towel open, smiling slightly. She returns my smile and walks towards me. My arms, holding the towel, close tightly around her as she rests against me, her ear over the steady beating of my heart.

We stay like that for a long time. Her listening to the sound of my heart and me enjoying the feel of her alive in my arms. A shiver ripples through her, and my mind is no longer my own. I set back from her, leaving her clutching the towel, sadness flickering across her face. I want to respond but can't, the invaders in my mind pushing me away from her, demanding my obedience to them. And this time, I think I won't be able to fight back any more.



END




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