Jack was dreading the wake, Pete's funeral and, maybe worse, the reception afterwards, which was almost bound to be a typically Irish affair, something Jack O'Neill knew a lot about. How could he tell Pete's parents how sorry he was for the loss of their son? He didn't give a damn about their son, only how all this impacted on Sam - and him and the SGC. Screw the rest of it, this was his whole life; he had nothing else left.
He told himself he was a sucker for punishment but saw no way out of it; he'd made a promise. Short of a Goa'uld attack on Earth, or a call on the red phone, there was no excuse. Jack didn't think wishing for a Goa'uld attack was particularly productive.
So there he was pulling up outside Sam's place. They were using her car but he insisted on driving. He'd been worried about her previous drive to Denver, whether she would be distracted by grief and have an accident, so was not going to let her risk it this time.
After she'd fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder the previous week, it was almost inevitable that he ended up staying at her place again. Most of the night was spent rather uncomfortably on her couch, trying not to wake her. Although he'd dozed off once or twice, his night was mainly sleepless. Sam had woken at around 3 am and he'd taken her to bed, retiring to her spare room for the second night running. This time there was no sobbing from her bedroom, no holding her close all night. He keenly felt the lack of her next to him. Nothing would ever be the same again.
He encouraged Daniel to spend as much time with her as possible over the following few days and tried to avoid such a situation. She went into work, insisting that she wanted to keep occupied, but he scrubbed SG-1 from the mission list. He wasn't letting her risk her life, or her team's, until he knew she could concentrate on her job.
Talking of concentrating on the job, he was finding it difficult himself. There were no real crises at the SGC to deal with, which was a bit of luck.
Jack made regular detours to her lab, or took her for lunch or coffee in the mess. He even visited her house, but kept more distance between them. If Sam noticed she never said anything. Nor did she ask him to stay or make any move that indicated she wanted him to hold her in comfort again. He longed to do just that, but didn't dare. His emotions were too chaotic and he would risk exposing too much.
On the day of the wake, they were running late to get to Denver, so when Sam saw Jack from the window she picked up her bags, keys and jacket and came out to meet him. They changed cars and drove off straightway, got a little lost trying to find the house, and arrived when the place was filled with people and all eyes were upon them as they walked in. It was more than a little disconcerting to both of them, but particularly Jack who felt he shouldn't really be there anyway. He would bear it for Sam: almost anything for her.
It was a sombre affair, as expected. The old fashioned traditional Irish wake was a ritual rarely followed these days and Jack sincerely hoped that Pete Shannahan's parents weren't in the business of reviving it. He had spent some time explaining to Sam what a traditional wake might be like, to prepare her for the worst. At a 'proper' wake women would wash and prepare the body, followed by keening and crying over the corpse, an important part of the ritual. Amongst other customs, the men might congregate in the kitchen, or even outside. He wouldn't know anyone at this thing and dreaded that he might be separated from Sam, for both him and her.
The coffin was in the living room and Sam cracked when she saw it. Jack held her tightly, breathing a sigh of relief that Pete's parents had chosen a closed coffin. From what he could ascertain at a quick glance around, it appeared that the wake would not be along totally traditional lines, which was a blessing.
He led Sam towards the coffin, kneeling in the customary way to pray. Jack had been raised a catholic and, although he was very much lapsed, still remembered appropriate prayers. Sam was sobbing, the sight of the coffin bringing reality sharply into focus, and Jack tried to fulfil what he believed to be his major function; to comfort her as much as possible, be by her side when she required.
Sam introduced Jack to Pete's family and they looked startled at the mention of his name. Jack wondered what Pete had said to them about him, surprised he'd ever been mentioned. Whatever it was had clearly been negative as they looked at him in the most peculiar way. He managed to mumble something almost incomprehensible about being sad for their loss, all the words he hadn't wanted to say but felt obligated to. Mercifully, Sam dragged him away quickly.
"Well they didn't look happy to see me Sam. You didn't check if they'd mind if I came?" He felt uncomfortable being there without an invitation.
"I didn't think I needed to do that. They told me I should bring a friend and I did."
"I'm betting they think you brought more than just a friend Sam. You probably should have asked a woman to come with you."
"Oh? Oh! You don't really think they think that do you?"
"Well I'm wondering what Pete might have said about me. He must have mentioned me. How else would they know my name?"
"I. I can't imagine why he'd talk about you to them Jack."
"Maybe he thought I was a threat Sam. Hasn't it ever occurred to you?"
"Not really. Why would he?"
Great! This was something else he probably didn't want to hear. He'd never been a threat to Pete. Boy, oh boy, it just got better everyday.
"Come on, let's get a drink. I think we both need it." He said, desperately wishing he hadn't mentioned Pete.
Neither of them knew another soul there. Pete's partner, one of the few people in Pete's Denver life that Sam had ever met, was absent; although it turned out that there were a few of his policemen friends there. Apparently Jim, his partner, had been unable to make it because of official duties but would be at the funeral and reception next day.
Although many of the traditions were not followed, the wake did last until midnight. Pete's relatives would probably be there through the night but Sam did not want that; she wanted to go back to the hotel, sleep and be fresh for the funeral. Many of the mourners drank quite a lot, although Jack suspected that the real hard drinking might take place at the reception. He drank little as he had to drive, and Sam did not want to get drunk, so nursed her couple of drinks for a long time.
By the time they got away Sam was clearly exhausted. The wake had been a strain, as he knew it would be. They checked into the hotel and immediately made their way to their rooms, which Jack had arranged to be adjoining so that he could go to her if she needed him during the night. As far as he knew she slept right through; certainly she did not call for his help. She seemed be keeping it all together pretty well, in the circumstances, although Jack believed that she was covering a whole lot of seething emotions within. If she cried herself to sleep, or woke from nightmares, she kept it to herself and he heard nothing through the hotel walls.
He was barely cognisant of the funeral next day, only of Sam holding onto his arm and squeezing it very hard throughout, and her tears as they lowered the coffin into the ground.
The reception was held in a large hotel room, with it's own bar. It was taking a while for things to heat up but Jack knew it was coming. He'd been to this sort of thing before. He was on edge because he could feel the eyes of Pete's family burn into him and that was bugging him. He did the rounds with Sam, but didn't know anyone himself. He was merely there as her protector, and her prop. Sam was talking to one of Pete's many brothers and Jack went to the bar for drinks.
"Well I'll be damned, Colonel Jack O'Neill!" A voice said and he looked up.
"Reilly?"
"Yes Sir." Reilly gave a small, mock salute. "So Sam persuaded you to come with her and has deserted you huh, Sir?"
"You know Sam? I guess you must have known Pete Shannahan?" Jack queried. Reilly had served with him in Special Forces. He'd been a good man.
"I was his partner Sir. I'm PD now."
"You? Pete Shannahan's partner? Won't his family think you're consorting with the enemy? I don't think they like me."
"Well, you're with Sam. She was Pete's woman Sir."
"She still is." Jack replied in whisper.
"I always wondered whether the Colonel O'Neill he bitched about so much was one and the same but never mentioned it to him." Jack was flabbergasted.
"He used to bitch about me?"
"Yes sir."
"Drop the Sir, Reilly. It's Jack. You aren't in the Air Force anymore. And it's General O'Neill now by the way." Reilly whistled.
"Whoa! Congratulations General. Pete never mentioned that. He had a way of. twisting things." Jack raised his eyebrows in response, hoping to find out more. "I never did know what to believe with him, so I chose to treat his words with caution Sir. When I thought it was probably you he meant, I never believed any of it. I know you're an honorable man Sir.
"Jack. It's Jack."
"Ummm. okay, if you call me Jim."
"Right. Jim. You were partners; he was your friend. Why are you telling me this? I must admit I'm a little curious about what he used to say."
"What didn't he say? Ummm. Jack, we were partners, but not friends." Jack nodded but said nothing. "He said Sam talked about you all the time."
"Yeah, well we work together, she's bound to want to moan about me to someone."
"But that's the point; according to him, she would never hear a bad word said about you."
"She wouldn't?" Jack felt his face flushing.
"It used to really piss him off."
"Yeah, I'll bet." Jack smiled, feeling a little self-satisfied.
"So he really had a downer on you; perceived you as a threat, to him and Sam. Were you?" Jim asked curiously and Jack let a small, but bitter, laugh escape his lips.
"I doubt it."
"Pity." Jack looked surprised. "I used to worry about her." Jack looked into Jim's eyes, alarm bells ringing madly. They always had around Pete; maybe he was about to find out why.
"Why?"
"Pete was obsessed with her. He could be a little freaky sometimes. If you could have seen his flat." He had to break off because Sam was returning. "I think you ought to know about it. I have to tell someone. The Department don't wanna know; he's one of ours and he died in the line of duty. If you want to know more, call me." He handed Jack a card and Jack nodded consent, more than curious about what his old team mate had to say about Mr Shannahan.
"Oh, you've introduced yourselves to each other?" Sam smiled a little as she approached, looking better than she had for the last few days.
"Well, funnily enough Carter, Jim and I have already met. We served together in Special Forces." Jack handed her the drink and downed his own rapidly. If you can't beat 'em join 'em, he thought, although getting drunk could be a seriously bad idea.
"Really?" Sam said. "Oh! It's a small world Sir." She looked at Jack.
"Yes it is. And for crying out loud, drop the Sir."
"I will if you drop the Carter, Sir." She replied and Jack smiled, holding up his arms in the air as if surrendering.
"Fair cop. Take me away officer." He said turning to Jim. Sam laughed and it was something he hadn't seen her do much of lately, so it pleased Jack a great deal.
"Look. I'm due on duty." Said Jim. "Sam, I'm sorry we never got a chance to talk. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you know where to find me." He pecked her on the cheek.
"Thanks Jim." She returned the kiss.
"Good to have seen you again Colonel. I mean General, Sir." He mocked saluted Jack again and then held out his hand to shake.
"You too Jim. I'll call sometime."
"Yeah, you do that." Jim left hurriedly.
"I get the impression I missed something." Sam said.
"Only old Special Forces talk, Sam, nothing important." Jack informed her, hating to lie. Sam kind of wished she could have heard that conversation thinking that she might have learned a thing or two about Jack's experiences with Special Forces. He rarely talked about it. She never guessed he was lying. "You have another admirer, I think." Jack added.
"What, Jim? I don't think so. He's married Jack; happily I think."
"He is? I didn't know that." Jack smiled and then looked at her seriously. "You okay Sam? I mean. well in the circumstances."
"I'll be alright. It's all a little strange."
"Tell me about it." He joked, hoping to raise a smile, which he did. Pete's relatives were eyeballing him and it was making him highly uncomfortable; Sam felt the disquiet.
"I don't understand why they're reacting to you like this Jack."
"I dunno. Have I got something sticking out of my nose?" He joked again and she snorted.
"Do you want to leave?" She asked.
"I'm here for you Sam. It's up to you. Maybe they'll loosen up when the booze has been flowing longer."
That's what worried her. She was grateful he was willing to put up with the cold stares for her sake but this was an occasion when a lot of people could get very drunk and behave badly.
"I don't think I want to stay too much longer, but I ought to go speak to his parents again for a while before we go I guess."
"Do you want me to come with you? That is why I'm here, isn't it?"
"Well I might have thought twice if I'd known you would elicit this reaction."
"Yeah, it seems I wasn't the best choice."
"You were to me. I'll risk it alone Jack. I'm gonna ask them."
"What?"
"Why they are reacting like this to you? I'm gonna ask them."
"Sam!"
She ignored him and approached Mr and Mrs Shannahan, leaving Jack alone again. He got another drink and propped up the bar trying to look inconspicuous, which could be hard for a man who was over six feet tall. Time seemed to pass excessively slowly, and it was half and hour later that Sam rejoined him.
"You were right. They thought I'd bought my lover to their son's funeral."
"Oh! That's a little. embarrassing." He said while thinking, I wish.
"It's alright, I set them straight. Apparently Pete said something to them about me thinking too highly of you and." She tailed off, suddenly aware of what she was saying. Jack noticed her blush.
"Is it true?" He couldn't resist asking.
"Probably. He could have the bad habit of running off at the mouth sometimes."
"I meant."
"I know what you meant. Probably." She looked directly into his eyes and it was Jack's turn to blush, which gave her a small thrill inside. "I used to talk about you, and the team, sometimes." She was quick to add and Jack gave her a thin smile.
"Sure." Her gaze unnerved him and he glanced away, desperate to ease the sudden tension between them.
"It's just warming up..." Jack said by way of distraction, as he eyed a couple of very drunk guests. "Could be fun." His voice held a slight mocking tone. "Do you really wanna go, or stay Sam? Don't leave because you think I'm uncomfortable. I have felt waaay more uncomfortable than this, I can assure you." He alluded to various encounters with Goa'uld, Jaffa and other nasty aliens, none of which had been a walk in the park.
"I don't think I want to be with these people Jack. They aren't my friends or family; they're Pete's folks. And I wouldn't mind betting that there'll be at least one big argument or fight before the night is out. I don't want you getting into any trouble Jack."
"Me?"
"Well. if you carry knocking them back like that you might." She indicated his empty glass.
"Is that an accusation? I can't mix with Shannahans without a drink."
"Jack!" He could tell by the glint in her eye and slight smile that she was amused, her chagrin faked.
"Oh, and I eschew violence, by the way. I'm a peaceful man."
His expression was of studied innocence and it raised a laugh from Sam. Jack O'Neill could be good medicine for whatever ailed you, she thought, realising she would rather be somewhere alone with Jack than with this crowd of people she hardly even knew.
"Come. Let's go have our own party." She said, grasping his arm lightly and steering him to the door. She doubted she would ever see any of these people again. Why would she want to? Pete was dead; it was over. Jim was the only one of them that she might stay in touch with. She liked him.
They ran up quite a bar bill at the hotel, going back to Sam's room and ordering a bottle of scotch, ice and two glasses and getting merrily tipsy, if not drunk. Jack was the merrily tipsy one; Sam was definitely drunk. She talked about Pete a little, revealing small snippets of their lives together. It was killing Jack but he knew it was what you did at funerals; remember the dead and talk about the good times. It was part of the tradition and served a purpose. This was where coming to terms with death really started.
Jack went for a pee and when he came back Sam was standing at the side of the bed wearing her waist slip, bra and panties, her other clothes strewn over a chair. He stared at her open mouthed. Wow! Down Jack, heel!
"Jack, will you kiss me?" She asked. "I need a kiss."
Oh boy! He was momentarily dumbstruck and when she approached he raised his hands to fend her off.
"That's not a good idea Sam."
"Oh come on Jack. Don't be a spoil sport." She whined.
"A very bad idea." He backed away but as a result boxed himself into a corner.
"Gotchya!" She exclaimed.
He was seriously tempted, but pushed such thoughts away. There were a number of reasons why it was a bad idea, not least of which was her lack of sobriety. Jack O'Neill would never take advantage of any woman in that condition, least of all Sam. The timing wasn't too hot either.
"I think it's time you went to bed Sam."
"Oh Jack! Come on." She taunted. It was time for drastic action.
"Carter! Get your ass in that bed. That's an order Colonel!" She almost stood to attention at his best command voice, and obeyed his order.
"Aren't you gonna join me? Whoa! The room's spinning round." Jack hoped she wasn't going to be sick.
"Sam?" He sat on the side of the bed and looked at her. She was unfocussed and her eyes glazed.
"Is that you General?" She said sleepily.
"Yes it's me."
"Good. I'm glad you're here Sir."
She seemed to have forgotten her original intent, gently taking his hand and kissing it and almost immediately passing out still clutching him. He sat for a while and simply watched her. She looked so peaceful, and beautiful. He continued to grasp her hand and used his other one to softly caress her cheek.
I love you Sam, he thought, I wish I didn't, but I do. I can't help myself. Tenderly kissing her cheek where he's just been stroking her, he closed his eyes and wished he were meant to be there, with her; but he wasn't, so he went into his own room, taking the rest of the scotch with him.
Jack knew it was tough going after a funeral of a loved one and wondered whether Sam might need him tonight, even if she hadn't the night before. He remembered Charlie's clearly. Jack was numb, and Sarah cried for a long time and then seemed equally numb. He'd been unable to help her, barely able to help himself. She thought him callous but her own pain blinded her to his; he simply wasn't capable.
Far from being callous, his heart was torn asunder. He'd shed his own tears, but no one had ever known or ever would. Shutting himself off from the world, he almost literally closed himself down, but hadn't the courage to end his life. Or maybe his will to live had been too strong without even realising it. Much of his adult life had been a struggle to stay alive, and ensure his team mates did too. Maybe it was old habits dying hard. Now he never gave up, no matter what, although he'd come close to it when captured and tortured by Ba'al.
There was Sam, of course; he'd given that up. It was ironic that he should come to that conclusion just as they got so close. However, this situation was only temporary; their familiarity brought on by events outside of their control. It was totally the wrong sort of close.
He didn't want to see Sam go the way he had after Charlie's death; would rather die from his acute discomfort with the situation then let that happen. Sam should never know he felt like that.
A couple of hours later he woke to the sound of someone entering the room. Wha.? He sat up quickly, realising where he was and why in an instant.
"What is it Sam?"
"I don't want to be alone. Can I stay in here with you?" She asked.
He was relieved that he sensed nothing of her earlier desire to kiss him so got up and took her in his arms in a hug. It seemed she needed one.
"Sure Sam." He gently pushed her onto the bed and sat beside her stroking her hair. "Nightmares?" He asked.
"Something like that." He decided he wouldn't push if she didn't volunteer to tell. "I think I might still be drunk." She stated.
"Probably." He grinned.
"Sir. did I try to.umm. kiss you earlier? She asked tentatively, in a whisper.
"Yes Carter."
"Crap!"
"Hey, I'm not that bad!" He joked and she smiled up at him.
"I'm sorry." Nervously she touched his face. "I'm sorry." Her touch made him tremble and he could hear his heartbeat loudly. This was so dangerous.
"Get into bed Sam." He whispered.
"Are you gonna get in Jack? I won't bite. I promise." Oh God!
"Ummm. sure."
He was suddenly grateful he'd worn something in bed, which he frequently did not. Sam was still wearing the waist slip, bra and panties she'd had on when he ordered her to bed. There was way too much bare flesh and he shuddered, his skin breaking out in goose bumps. As he lay beside her she put an arm over his chest, settling her head into his neck. In no time at all she was asleep again. Lucky for some. Jack stayed awake for a long time, wondering whether he'd ever get a decent night's sleep again.
Next morning Sam had one hell of a hangover and he suggested she lie in late and try to get more sleep. Making an excuse about having some business to attend to, which was no lie, her delicate condition gave him the perfect opportunity to call Jim, who arranged to pick Jack up at the Hotel.
"So you worked with Sam a long time?" Jim asked as they walked into his apartment building.
"Yeah, a few years."
"She's one heck of a woman."
"Yep." Jack agreed.
"I hope you'll take care of her."
"I'll try."
"Pete would have wanted you to look after her." Jim said and Jack laughed
"No he wouldn't."
"Yeah, you're right, he wouldn't." Jim grinned broadly. "Here it is." He took some keys out of his pocket and opened the apartment door. "I wasn't sure what to do so I brought it home. Honey, you in?" He called.
A very heavily pregnant woman waddled out of a room to greet them.
"Jack, this is Gina, my wife." Jim gave her a brief greeting hug and kiss. "Gina, this is General Jack O'Neill."
"I'm pleased to meet you Gina. Don't believe whatever it is he might have said about me. I'm a nice guy really."
Gina grinned and shook his hand.
"Actually, he told me you were a hero General O'Neill. You don't want me to believe that?" Jack blushed.
"Believe me, what you are doing right there is a lot more heroic than anything I've ever done." Jack smiled and indicated her large bump. "You must be due pretty soon. Jim, you're a dark horse. You should have said something."
"I was a little pressed for time."
"So trying to tell me Pete Shannahan might be wacko was more important than the impending birth of your kid?" Jack joked.
"Something like that." Jim replied amiably.
"When is the baby due?" Jack asked Gina.
"A couple of weeks."
"It's your first?"
"Yes." she replied dreamily.
"First of many, we hope." Jim added.
"Hey, that's alright for you to say but you don't have to carry it around for 9 months." Gina teased her husband. Jack smiled inside; pleased to see the couple look so happy and contented. Someone had to be so why not them? "Would you like a coffee or something General?" She asked Jack.
"I'd love some." Replied Jack, warming to the couple. He always had liked Jim and his wife seemed pretty nice. "I think you ought to put your feet up and get your husband to make it."
So Jim readily made coffee and the three chatted for a while about babies and all kinds of irrelevant things.
"I was so sorry to hear about your son, Jack; and your wife." Jim said sympathetically. Jack's love of children shone through every word he spoke and Jim pondered the loss he'd suffered. How tough was that? Jim loved his soon to be born child already and empathised with how Jack must have felt.
"It was a long time ago." Jack replied but Jim could see the shadow darken his face. "Thanks for the condolences by the way." He recalled Jim had sent him a short letter when it had happened. "So, what do you wanna show me?" He asked to change the subject and noticed the looks exchanged by the couple. Jim led Jack to the spare room, clearly recently redecorated as a nursery.
"Nice job." Jack commented, starting to look around. His eyes alighted on one of the walls and he gasped. Jim pulled a huge board from behind the cot.
"We found this at Pete's apartment."
The board was covered with photographs of Sam. From the various photos Pete had taken it was obvious he'd been following her. There was Sam leaving the gym, shopping, entering Cheyenne Mountain in her car, leaving her house, and even in her house. A couple of those were saucier than Jack had anticipated and his eyes widened.
"My God!" Jack exclaimed.
"That's something along the lines of my initial reaction. Should I tell Sam?"
"I. no! She's upset enough already. Does she need to know? Does anybody need to know?"
"Does she need to know that her boyfriend was probably a sick perverted bastard? No probably not. Although it might do you some favours if she did know."
"What do you mean?"
"Come on Jack, I was watching you two for quite a while at the reception." He could tell that Jack would admit nothing of his feelings and decided to drop it. "Well, I guess I was wrong." He said.
"Yeah. And anyway, what kind of a guy would use this sort of thing to his advantage?"
"Well the beauty is, you wouldn't have to. I could tell her."
"No! I never want her to know about this. It would break her heart. Christ! That son of a bitch!"
"Maybe I should never have told you."
"I'm glad you did. At least it confirms my feeling that he was far from the Mr Perfect that Sam seems to think he was."
"Do you think that's what she thought? If she thought he was so perfect, why did she turn down his marriage proposals at least half a dozen times?"
"She did?" Jack was taken aback. He didn't even know Pete had asked her, but then, why would he?
"Pete was so pissed. There was a lot of stuff he wanted her to do that she wouldn't. It wasn't the perfect relationship you seem to think it was."
"Oh!"
"I just wonder what he would have done if she'd dumped him. It was inevitable that she would. She isn't the sort of woman who wants to be with a controlling man."
"He was controlling?"
"Oh yeah."
Jack was pleased he was learning all this. It made him feel a little better in a weird kind of way. It also spooked him out. Sam must never know.
"What are you gonna do with it?" Jack asked.
"Destroy it I guess. It's probably for the best. The guy's dead so it doesn't matter anymore."
"She must have been to Pete's place. Why hasn't she ever seen it?" Jack wondered aloud.
"I'm thinking he kept it hidden when other folks were around."
"I guess." Jack thought for a moment. "So are all these photos just gonna get destroyed?"
"Yep. You want one? Take your pick."
Jack felt a little embarrassed at the obvious implication of his desire to have her photo. Nevertheless, he scanned the board looking for the best one and plucked one off. She was sitting at an outside table of a café, smiling.
"Good choice. She's a beautiful woman." Said Jim.
"Yes she is." Jack agreed.
"And you'd defend her to the death, right?"
"Something like that." Jack replied quietly.
"Good. She deserves someone like you in her life."
"If I was in her life, that may or may not be true."
"I guess it's too soon." Jim referred to the proximity of Pete's death.
"Not really. It's too late." Jack tried his best not to look dejected.
"Oh." Jim seemed a little disappointed, sensing the sadness in Jack and wondering if it was true that it was too late.
"Thanks for telling me. showing me this, Jim. I guess I'd better head back to meet Sam. We need to get back to the Springs."
"Important military business? Something to do with radar?" Jim asked and Jack laughed.
"Deep Space Radar Telemetry."
"Must be fascinating."
"It has its moments."
"I'm sure it has old friend."
Jim didn't look like he believed this was what his old team mate did for a living, but Jack was not in a position to clarify it for him. A little later they parted with a handshake and promises to keep in touch, which neither believed would happen, and Jack returned to pick up Sam.
They hardly spoke during the drive back to Colorado Springs, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. In what seemed like no time at all he pulled up outside Sam's house. Now he had to bear parting with her again and the thought hit him hard.
"Sam you look terrible." Jack said as he walked her to her front door.
"I wish you'd stop pointing that out." She replied grumpily. Oops!
"I've seen you look worse." He added.
"That doesn't help." Oy!
"I'm sure that underneath that hung over exterior there is a beautiful woman trying to get out." He joked.
"I'll try to take that as some sort of weird compliment." She grimaced. "I guess I've taken up enough of your time Sir."
It wasn't exactly how he would have chosen to spend his precious time; right company, wrong time and place. He was torn about leaving her. She probably needed to be alone, and he should get to the mountain, but he was drawn to her. Typically O'Neill, he had to fiddle around with something to hide his confused feelings and took his mobile out of his pocket. The battery was dead and he sincerely hoped nothing awful had happened at the SGC since whenever it had died.
"Do you need to use the phone?" She enquired.
"I'm sure you wanna be alone Sam, but this is dead." He eyed the phone as if it had done something to him deliberately. "I'd better call the SGC. They might have been trying to reach me."
"Come in." She invited.
He called the base to discover they'd managed perfectly well without him and wondered why he bothered going in. No Goa'uld attacks. He would have been so pissed if that happened now when it couldn't have happened a day or two earlier and saved his ass.
The whole Denver experience had pretty much freaked him out and his emotions were running high. He was finding it hard to come to terms with what he'd learned about Pete. Although it confirmed his own good judgement, he wondered how Sam had missed noticing that something wasn't quite right. It made his blood run cold to think about it. Jack had to admit that Pete had a certain charm about him and he probably piled it on with Sam; he could figure out why she could get taken in. And she'd been lonely; he understood that very well. Besides, his own feelings about Pete were not entirely without prejudice.
Sam had disappeared and he could hear her getting angry and stomping around. What now?
"Sam!" He called.
"Dammit!" He heard. Gingerly he approached the sound, which was coming from her bedroom. Total silence now emanated from her bedroom, which worried him.
"Sam?"
Jack knocked on her door and poked his head round. She was sitting on her bed sobbing silently. Hell! He approached, gently touching her shoulder and she looked up.
"Sam I know it's easy to say, but it will feel better someday." Maybe not wholly better, but certainly better, he thought.
"It's not Pete."
"Oh!" He then noticed the box of photographs and memorabilia, its contents scattered over her bed. Heck!
"I was looking for a photograph." Surely she can't mean the same photograph? Gulp! He looked embarrassed. Dammit, he WAS embarrassed! "But I can't find it."
"You're crying about a photograph?"
"It's important."
"There's lot's of photographs Sam. You sure it isn't there." She nodded.
"It's of you and me." Yikes! "You think I wouldn't see it?" She looked into his eyes. "Jack, you've gone pink. What's wrong?"
"I. I." He stumbled, reaching into his pocket for the photograph and handing it to her. "I took it Sam. I didn't think you'd miss it. I'm sorry."
Jack was mortified and turned away, unable to look her in the eye. Not only had she caught him out stealing something from her, but it was a picture of the two of them. If that didn't tell her how he felt, nothing did.
"Jack?" Her expression was one of shocked bemusement. Jack had taken her picture of the two of them?
"The box fell down when I reached for a blanket and I. well. I." He sighed heavily feeling more uncomfortable and embarrassed than he had for a long time. "Um. I. I'd better go."
He was humiliated but couldn't bring himself to pretend or lie to her; act all surprised and sympathetic about a photograph that he'd stolen. That would be far more dishonorable than his current disgrace. He felt his face redden further and quickly left the room.
"Jack!" She ran after him.
"Sam, just. don't. Please don't!" He desperately needed to get away.
"Jack for God's sake!"
"Leave it!" He spat angrily but she didn't and grasped his arm.
"Jack."
Suddenly she kissed him briefly on the lips but he pushed her away.
"You shouldn't have done that. Not that." He said; his anger controlled under a steely demeanour.
She saw real anguish in his eyes, sensed his pain, and wanted to take him in her arms but knew he would never accept that. He would take it as pity even though that wouldn't be her intention. Jack would never believe that she loved him, not now. The timing was totally wrong and it always had been.
Jack was furious and ashamed because he'd made himself look a fool. Sam had added to his humiliation with her actions and an already bad situation became worse. Pity was something he neither wanted nor needed from her. She wasn't thinking straight and he knew that. Perhaps it wasn't pity but something else
It didn't really matter what it was; there was no way he was getting caught up in any affair with her on the rebound. He didn't want an affair; he wanted a lot more than that and had to find a way to deal with this without screwing up their relationship both in and outside of work. Too emotional to think about it for now, he mumbled something about needing to get to the SGC, turned his back and left.
When his truck was out of sight of her house he pulled over, trembling. I have to get myself together before I drive to the mountain, he thought. I'm an idiot! What am I gonna do now?
/Continued in Part 3: Not Being There/
Story Notes: Being There 02: Sequel/Series Info: Sequel to Being There Part 1: The Wrong Time
Status: Series, 2 of 4
Author's Note: Sorry about the pun in the title of this fic - I guess it is intended to have a double meaning. Thanks again to Bonnie for her beta read, advice and encouragement, Trish for her initial inspiration and Phil for the wonderful artwork he created especially for this fic. The artwork can be found on my site if you want to take a peek http://www.ficwithfins.com/su/ship/btpt2.htm
Status: Series, 2 of 4
Author's Note: Sorry about the pun in the title of this fic - I guess it is intended to have a double meaning. Thanks again to Bonnie for her beta read, advice and encouragement, Trish for her initial inspiration and Phil for the wonderful artwork he created especially for this fic. The artwork can be found on my site if you want to take a peek http://www.ficwithfins.com/su/ship/btpt2.htm
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 ]