It was disappearing. He could feel everything that made him human slipping from his grasp. Jack O'Neill stood under the shower for a long, long time, trying to wash the memory away. He couldn't detach himself anymore, couldn't forget. There were reasons why he had been so successful in his Black Ops career, he had always been willing to do what ever had been necessary.....if they thought that this was the first man he had murdered..... Jack felt the familiar emptiness creep into his soul. Burying his emotions had been the only way he had ever been able to cope. The problem was....the problem was....given the same set of circumstances he would have done exactly the same thing. Sam hadn't said anything during the debriefing. She knew what he had done, but, like the good friend she was, she kept quiet. For some reason, she always felt that she needed to protect him. Jack often found himself wondering why she did it.
Damn, but he had to get out of here...get out of here and drown his conscience in a bottle of scotch.
He turned off the water and grabbed his towel. It was late. With any luck he could leave the base without having to talk to anyone. He could go home, switch the phone off and....The door of the room swung open and he could hear someone banging around in their locker. By the distinctive footsteps he could tell that it was Sam. In other circumstances, Jack would have shouted out to her, just to let her know there was a man in here. However, he really didn't want to talk to her tonight, so he stood out of sight, waiting for her to leave.
Fifteen minutes later, he was still there. He hadn't heard the door open so he had to assume Sam hadn't gone. What the hell was she doing? It was unlike her to hang around. Very cautiously, Jack poked his head around the corner. She was sitting on the bench, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking, but she wasn't making any sound at all. Was she crying? Jack couldn't quite decide. Whatever, it didn't look like she was going to move anytime soon.
Deciding that he would have to face her sometime.....and it might as well be now...Jack stepped into the room. Sam's head snapped up as she heard his bare feet on the floor. She stood up, obviously trying to maintain a military facade, but her eyes betrayed her. She had been crying...alot. He felt sick to his stomach, knowing that he was the cause. It seemed that all he did lately was trample on her emotions.
They just stared at each other, neither of them willing to make any move. Jack had the feeling that, if they left this room without saying anything, their friendship would be permanently damaged. He didn't want that......but he really couldn't find any words.
"Sorry, sir....I didn't know there was anyone in here...." Sam started to apologise.
"Yeah....I was taking a shower."
Obvious thing to say, but it was a start. Sam looked at her feet, shuffling them slightly. Jack was surprised to find that he was shaking. Hoping that Sam hadn't noticed, he started to back away. He really needed that drink, and soon. If he didn't get out of here soon he was afraid that.....
"Why'd you do it, sir?" Sam said, shocking him with the direction of her words. "You told me once that killing a man was no badge of honour......"
"In you're case it's not. But for me....It's what I do best. Or had you forgotten?"
A look of absolute horror crossed her features and Jack realised that he'd hurt her again. She didn't want to hear the truth about him, but maybe she needed to. There was something beguiling about her naiveté, she always thought the best about everyone.
"What did you do the first time you killed someone?" Jack found himself asking.
"I threw up.....and I didn't stop shaking for three days," Sam admitted.
"For you it'll always be personal, but that was trained outta me years ago."
She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. Jack would have offered her a handkerchief....if he'd been wearing more than a towel. "Then why did you stop, if you didn't hate every second?" she asked.
Sam hadn't given up on him.....and she must have studied his record pretty thoroughly. Raking up his past wasn't something Jack would ever feel comfortable. Sara had been the reason he quit black ops.....Sara and Charlie. But he wasn't about to discuss his personal life with Sam. After all, those reasons no longer existed. Charlie was gone and, after several painful years of separation, he and Sara had finally divorced. It had been amicable enough, but he still felt his heart wrench every time he thought about it. For a man who had spent so much of his life killing people, being unable to fulfil his marriage vows was difficult. The reason he had first stepped through the Stargate was to release his wife from those very promises. In the end, all he had managed to achieve was to drive her away permanently.
"Sir?" Sam's question dragged him back to the present.
"Sam, you're smart. You know what would have happened."
"Yes, but I still hate myself for not trying to stop you."
"And me?"
"I could never hate you, sir."
"Sam...."
"Believe me, I've tried."
"Don't do that! I don't need you sympathy and I don't need your forgiveness."
From the expression on her face, you would have thought that he had physically attacked her.
"Now I want to get dressed and go home, so I suggest you leave," he finished.
Sam's eyes flashed in a way he'd rarely seen since their first meeting. She stood her ground, just as she had done on that fateful day. He didn't particularly want to drop his towel in front of her, but Jack was in a perverse enough mood to do it, just to see the expression on her face. Then again, he'd probably already given her enough reason to bring him up on charges. He was tired and the last thing he really wanted to do was fight with her any longer.
"Sam, please." he said, quietly.
"You're shaking, sir."
"It's cold in here."
"No, it's not."
Jack sat down on the bench and crossed his arms in front of him, but he was still unable to totally still his hands. He closed his eyes and didn't see Sam as she walked towards him. It was a surprise when he felt her arms about him, cradling his head against her body. She didn't say anything else, she just held him. Sara used to do that, when he had returned from a particularly difficult mission, she would hold him....stroking his hair in exactly the way Sam was doing. Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut. If he did that he could imagine she was Sara, a woman who loved him.....or used to.
He wasn't crying. That was something that surprised her, but she soon realised that tears didn't come easily to a man like Jack. Sam held him a little tighter, wanting to elicit some reaction from him, anything to show that he actually had some kind of feelings. What she hadn't anticipated was the sudden knowledge that there was a warm hand moving up inside her shirt......
Sam froze, she had absolutely no idea what to do, but her indecision only seemed to encourage him.
"Sir....," she began, trying to bring him back to reality.
He was moving the lace of her bra out of his way to give himself better access. Sam felt herself suppress a moan as his fingers made contact. She couldn't work out why this was happening, but she knew that it shouldn't feel so good. With one sudden movement, he pulled her into his lap. His hands were now fumbling with the belt of her fatigue pants. This was getting out of control, Sam realised. Why the hell wasn't she making him stop? They were in the locker room, on the base, anyone could just.....
The door opened.
"What the......Sam?"
Sam found herself looking into Daniel's confused face. The archaeologist looked horrified. He backed out of the room, muttering apologies. Sam instantly pulled away from Jack.......this was so, so wrong.
"Sam.... ," he began, trying to catch her hand and pull her close again.
But she couldn't look at him, unable to believe what they had been about to do.
"Sam, please. "
"No, sir!"
"I need....."
"I said no!"
"Fine. Whatever!"
Jack stood and crossed to his locker. Not caring that she was still in the room, he dropped the towel from his waist. Sam fled.
She hurried through the corridors, knowing that she had to leave the base. Her emotional detachment had been compromised and Sam found herself unable to cope. If Daniel hadn't chosen that moment to walk in....
"Sam! Wait up!" Daniel's voice made her walk all the faster.
He was out of breath when he caught up with her. Sam had no choice but to turn and face him.
"What the hell was going on in there?
"It wasn't what it looked like," she protested.
"In that case I must need new glasses, coz it looked like Jack had his hand up your shirt."
"Daniel....."
Her expression was one of total panic. Daniel must have picked up on it, because his features softened,
"Are you OK?" he asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "It's like....everything's changing, Daniel."
"You and Jack?"
"Yeah. I saw something today I didn't like much."
"What?"
"It doesn't matter, but I went to speak to him about it......You should have seen him Daniel, he was in a bad way. I never would have thought that he would get like that. Next thing I knew I was hugging him....and..."
"Sam?"
"I've been stupid, Daniel, stupid and blind. "
"Can I help?"
"No. I just need to go home.....Get off the base for a while."
"Sam?"
She could tell that Daniel was angry, whether it was with herself or the Colonel, she couldn't say. In fact, she didn't really care. As far as she was concerned the conversation was over. There was nothing else to say.
"Goodnight, Daniel," she muttered as she pushed past him.
But she didn't go home. Sam found herself driving for hours, just trying to get her head straight. Why she ended up at Jack's house, she couldn't say....but she needed to talk to him. Explain that what had happened earlier that evening was a mistake. Apologise.
The lights were on, so he was home. Sam didn't know if she was pleased or not. It would have been far easier if he'd been out.
The knock on the door couldn't have come at a worse time. Jack wasn't quite drunk enough to ignore it...... although he had been doing his level best to achieve a state of blissful inebriation. The bottle was still in his hand when he answered the door. Sam was the last person he had expected to see standing there. She was still wearing her fatigues, so he guessed that she had left the base without bothering to change and hadn't been home yet. He didn't speak, just stood back and let her into his house.
"You could have stopped me," he told her as he poured her a drink.
"I know....And that's what scares me most of all. Would you have stopped?"
"If you asked me....yes."
"Nice to know my opinion counts for something. I didn't like what you did, sir."
"But you agreed with me?"
"Yes."
She took the glass from him and nursed it for a while, before she took a hesitant sip. Jack found himself smothering a smile. Sam obviously didn't drink scotch very often. She made a face, but she swallowed it down. He was impressed, within twenty minutes she was knocking it back like a pro. She helped him finish the bottle. Then he wasn't quite certain what happened. They'd both had alot to drink. Maybe that was a good excuse....maybe it wasn't.
How they ended up in bed, he never did work out. The memory was decidedly hazy. All he remembered was waking up with a warm, female form pressed up against his own. At first he thought he was back in the past. The hair that shared his pillow was blonde and his sleep fuddled, hung over brain made the natural assumption.
"Sara?" The woman rolled over. Blonde hair, blue eyes....angry, hurt blue eyes. She struggled out of his arms. Jack reached out and turned the light on. Sam scrambled out of bed and started looking for her clothes.
"I'm not you're fucking wife, Jack!" she hissed.
Oh Shit!
"Sam...?"
Oh God, it was Sam...it was Sam and he'd just called her Sara....It was Sam and.....He'd been in bed with his second in command, which meant they'd probably.....She stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Whatever else had happened, Jack knew that he had to stop her. He rolled out of bed and hastily pulled on his boxers. Something told him that he was probably still drunk, which meant that Sam was unlikely to be in any condition to drive anywhere. He hadn't heard the front door open so he presumed that she hadn't left. Jack stumbled into the living room in search of her.
She was sitting on the floor, pulling the cushions off the couch. It took Jack a few seconds to work out exactly what she was doing.
"Where are my keys?" she demanded.
"Sam, I'm sorry, come back to bed," Jack attempted to reason with her. Although there was a small part of his brain that was saying Sam should leave, before they did something else that they would regret.
"Where are my keys!"
Jack spotted them almost immediately, lying on the floor next to the armchair, about two inches away from his foot. He gave them a kick so they disappeared under the rug. No keys, no driving away, Sam would have to stay. Even Jack could work that simple equation, so he stood back and watched her with a smirk on his face.
"You could help."
"Why? I don't want you to go," he answered.
"Fine, I'll walk."
"For cryin' out loud.........No, you won't. It's 3 AM, I'm not about to let you go wandering the streets......."
"And exactly how do you plan to stop me?"
"Come back to bed, Sam."
He could tell by the expression in her eyes that she was wavering.
"Please," he added.
"Sir, we got drunk, we had sex, during which you kept calling me Sara..... I don't think it was a great experience for either of us. Let's leave it there."
He couldn't believe that she meant that. If she did, why hadn't she stopped him in the locker room. Neither of them had the excuse of being inebriated. She'd never know how much it meant to wake up holding someone.
"Have you ever considered the fact that you and Sara should get back together?" she snapped at him.
"We can't," Jack replied, quietly. "She got married again, three weeks after divorce papers came through. Sara could always work fast."
"For what it's worth........I'm sorry......but I can't be her replacement, Jack."
"Sam, let me hold you, that's all I want to do....I promise."
Hesitantly, Sam took the hand that he offered. Jack breathed a deep sigh of relief as he led her back to the bedroom. Perhaps, by the morning, she would let him make up for calling her Sara. She kept her clothes on as they crawled back under the covers. Jack was slightly disappointed, but he didn't say anything. He just held her as close as he dared. As she slept, Sam snuggled back against him.
It was late morning when Sam woke up again. She was momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings and then by the fact she was alone in the bed. Jack must have been up hours ago, she realised. There were vague sounds from other parts of the house, obviously he was moving about somewhere. Sam gave an audible groan and buried her face in her hands. Just thinking was making her head hurt. She'd had her chance to leave last night, but she'd stayed.....despite everything.
There was a towel on the end of the bed, along with a clean shirt and a toothbrush. Sam picked them up and went in search of the bathroom. If nothing else a shower would give her time to think. Her stomach rumbled. Whatever Jack was doing, she hoped that breakfast formed part of his plans.
Showered and changed, she found him in the kitchen. He smiled when he saw her standing in the doorway.
"Coffee or juice?" he asked.
"I should really get going," Sam heard herself suggest. She wanted to give him the opportunity to get rid of her, if he so chose.
"Sure you don't want anything to eat?"
Sam tried not to look as if she was willing to eat the carpet, but she couldn't stop herself admitting that she could do with breakfast. Whatever Jack was cooking it smelt really good.
"It's a great day so I set the table out on the deck. Go out, make yourself at home...."
To her surprise he bent towards her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. He then stepped back, smiling shyly at her. Sam found herself grinning back.
"So....coffee or juice?" he repeated.
"Both.....and aspirin," Sam replied as she made her way outside.
Jack was right. It was a lovely day, the sun was warm and the garden was a blaze of colour. Sam stood leaning against the rail on the deck just breathing in the perfume. Cheyenne Mountain and all her responsibilities seemed to be a long, long way away. It wasn't long before Jack joined her. He came and stood behind her, winding his arms about her waist.
"This OK?" he asked.
"Yeah."
And it was......More than OK. Sam found herself enjoying the contact as he placed a tender kiss on her throat. It had been a long time since she had been this close to someone and the fact that it was her commanding officer.... Sam felt a twinge of guilt. This man was an enigma. He had a childlike quality that she found incredibly attractive, yet his darker side was also beguiling.
"C'mon, breakfast's getting cold," he said, leading her to the table.
"This looks great, Jack."
"Thanks."
"And you just had this stuff lying around the fridge?"
"Er....."
"Smoked salmon?"
"OK, you caught me. I got up early and went shopping....Unless you want Froot Loops....."
"This'll do fine."
His face broke into a grin of childish delight. He was obviously going all out to make up for the previous night....everything from his choice of menu to the flowers on the table. Sam felt a little awkward at first. This man was so different from the one she had faced in the locker room the previous day. There was very little of the soldier about him as he talked about his house, the garden.....his favourite hockey team. Sam quite literally lost track of time.
"Last night....I didn't force anything, did I?" he asked, eventually. It was obviously a question that was very important to him.
"No, Jack," Sam heard herself admit.
"Did I hurt you?"
"A little."
"I am so, so sorry."
He was. She could see it in his eyes. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to hurt her....yet he managed to do it so often. Sam always forgave him, she couldn't help herself. Loving someone meant accepting the good and the bad.........and she loved Jack.....that fact was clear.
"Make it up to me," she told him.
"You sure?" he asked.
"Yes."
Taking a deep breath she reached over and took his hand.
The End
-- Ruth M. King
Story Notes: AUTHOR: Ruth M. King (ruth@snowqueen.demon.co.uk)
RATING: M, for language and situations
ARCHIVE: Sam and Jack, Heliopolis, anyone else please ask.
SPOILERS: Inspired by The Other Side
DISCLAIMERS: Stargate SG1 is the property of MGM, Showtime, Double Secret and Gekko etc. I'm just playing for a while !
RATING: M, for language and situations
ARCHIVE: Sam and Jack, Heliopolis, anyone else please ask.
SPOILERS: Inspired by The Other Side
DISCLAIMERS: Stargate SG1 is the property of MGM, Showtime, Double Secret and Gekko etc. I'm just playing for a while !
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]