Sitting on a rickety folding chair, I try to untangle a mass of fishing lures. What's strange is I'm certain I hear a knock on my door. How long has it been since anyone's visited me here? Daniel was the last to come, and that was years ago. I have no acquaintances in town, so . . . . Standing, I put down the knot of tackle on a bench as I round the corner of my cabin. Carter. It's Sam. And for one moment my heart stops beating and I lose my breath before my brain kicks in, reminding me *why* I haven't seen her in ten years.
I become rooted to the spot, staring at her as she stares at me. She's nervous, unsure of what to say. Well, after the way we parted I'm surprised she isn't more apprehensive about facing me.
"So, this is the place you kept threatening to take me," she half-grins; her attempt at levity falling flat. "It's good to see you, Sir."
I don't verbally dismiss her, but I take a seat in a peeling wooden chair, my back practically to her. "I'm retired, Carter. Lose the 'Sir.'"
"Right," she says, taking a seat in the chair next to me without invitation. ". . .Jack." My name sounds foreign on her lips, and she forms the word carefully, as if she's never pronounced it.
I pick up a beer I'd abandoned earlier, and taking a swig, grimace at how warm it's become. "What are you doing here?"
"It turns out we made a mistake, a big one."
I feel a small bubble of excitement rising in my chest. Could it be she's here because he and what's-his-name broke up? "Which one?" I ask, my voice still caustic. "We made a few."
"Our alliance with the Aschen," she clarifies, crushing my fledgling hopes.
"Oh, that. Not workin' out, is it? Gosh I wish I'd seen that coming. Oh, wait! I *did* see that coming!" I can't help feeling bitter. They were my friends, my *family* and they chose to believe some slimy aliens over me. Just because I had no physical evidence to back my claim they were bad news. How many times did I believe my team members absurd claims simply because I knew *them* and trusted *them?*
"It isn't what you thought," she said, looking down at her hands. There's a beat, causing me to look over at her. I wish I hadn't. She's upset, and my traitorous heart starts to soften. And, damn, if she doesn't look good.
It's not just her seemingly eternal youth, it's everything. It's *her.* Her hair is still short, cut the way I always liked it best, and I wonder for a moment if her husband prefers it that was as well. She's dressed casually--a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, topped with a long cotton jacket--but I've never seen her look better. It's an outfit reminiscent of her old down-time attire, and I wonder if it's some kind of subliminal message she's trying to send. A remember-when-we-were-friends? kind of outfit. Even though the T-shirt has a modest V neck, I find it incredibly sexy, and can't seem to take my eyes off it. I'm staring at her like some kid who's just discovered girls have breasts. Geeze. I've been in the woods too long.
"A couple of days ago I found out that I can't *ever* have children," she adds, eyes still locked on the hands in her lap.
My fantasy of a T-shirt clad Sam is replaced by an older vision--the one where there's a miniature version of herself standing between us, holding each of our hands. Not that there's much chance of it becoming a reality, especially given our recent past, but now it will never come true for her. Or for me.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, still a little harsher than I intended.
"So was I," she said quietly, making me soften another fraction of an inch.
Looking up, she said, "According to the Aschen doctors, I was fine, but not according to Dr. Fraiser. We got into the Aschen computer network. The keep statistics on everything. In the last couple of years without our even knowing it, they've managed to sterilize over ninety percent of the world's population. The other ten percent is probably just a matter of time. We don't know how they've done it, or how they've managed to keep it a secret this long."
I find myself wondering if she came all this way to keep me up-to-date on what's going on in the world, or if there's a purpose. "So, what do ya want me to do about?"
"Help us."
"Us? Who's us? You get a little too nostalgic at your anniversary ceremony and you've formed the SGC Reserves or something?"
"Something like that," she smiled. "At the moment it's Daniel, Janet, Teal'c and I. And, by the way, we missed you at the ceremony."
"Yeah, I'll bet."
"You would have been proud," she insisted. "President Kinsey even read one of your reports."
My head jerks up at that. "One of *my* reports?"
"Yeah, it was your account of our initial encounter with the Aschen."
"Well, I knew it couldn't have been one of the later ones," I humph. The thought of Kinsey trying to make it seem like we were buddies, comrades-in-arms, was as nauseating as the smug looks the Aschen used to give me. They knew they had Earth by the balls and there was nothing I could do about it, because no one believed me.
"So, what are you and the rest of the Superheroes from The Hall of Justice gonna do?" I query, finishing off the last of my beer.
"Undo this."
"Oh, here we go," I sigh, getting to my feet. Sam stands as well, following me as I try to walk away from her.
"We send a message through the Stargate to ourselves ten years ago. We stop this from ever happening."
I wave my hands around. "Stop 'this' from ever happening."
"We know it's possible."
I rub my hand over my face. "Aren't you the one who always kept going on about the consequences of messing with time? Why do you think this occasion makes it okay?"
"Because I don't see any other way to stop this," she says. "From what I can tell, there's no cure for the sterility. The damage has been done. The only way to stop it is to prevent it from happening in the first place."
"And you feel you have the right to make that decision for the entire *planet?*"
She gives me a small smile. "Janet said pretty much the same thing."
"Maybe she has a point. What if something's happened in this time line that won't be repeated if you change the past? Something that might affect a future we *should* have?" I shake my head. Now she's got me thinking about her damn Grandfather Paradoxes.
"And think of the mistakes that could be avoided," she says, looking me in the eye.
Is it my eternally hopeful spirit that makes me think she might be referring to us? I hate that she can do this to me. Show up out of no where after a decade and I'm ready to forgive her anything. Even choosing another guy over me. Anger is my only defense against what she makes me feel.
"Why am I even having this conversation?" I throw at her.
"We know what we have to do. I'm almost positive with the Aschen computer and solar observatory, I can predict a flare within a few hours of it's happening. And we should be able to get our hands on a GDO. So, it'll come down to accessing the gate within that window, dialing the right address and sending the message."
"Well, if it just comes down to that, do it."
"Look, if I thought it was going to be easy, I wouldn't be standing here asking for your help!" She's getting frustrated with me, and I can see her inner battle to remain calm in the hopes of convincing me to join them.
"Just out of curiosity, say we do this. What happens to everything that's happened the past ten years?"
"It won't happen."
My heart starts to race. Ten years to live over again. Well not exactly, since I won't remember these ten years. But what if in the "corrected" time line Sam and I don't have a difference of opinion? What if there's no reason for the rest of the team to write me off because of my heresy against our new saviors? What if she doesn't meet the hubby? If there's no Aschen, there's no ambassador, right? Instead of focusing on the blight the Aschen have brought to Earth, all I can think about is how maybe Sam and I would have a chance. Not necessarily a shot at the whole picket fence scenario, but it wasn't out of the question as it is now.
"So we don't go to P4C-970, we don't meet the Aschen, then what?"
"I don't know."
I want her to put two and two together as I have, to realize we could have a life together. Maybe she *is* thinking about how her personal life would change. Maybe she's thinking about Joe. That's right, that's his name. The name that's so hard to remember. I wait for her to come to the conclusion he might not be a part of her life, and I don't like what I see.
"Let me tell you something, Carter, You want to erase your mistakes, that's your business. My conscience is clear. I warned everybody. I threw up the red flag, and everybody, including *you* shot me down."
"I'm asking you to put that behind us," she says. Right. I'll just overlook the fact when I pleaded, no *begged* you to hear me out, you turned a deaf ear. Well, now it's my turn.
"You're not happy with the way things turned out? I'm sorry to hear that. Personally, I like the way things are," I say, twisting the knife as she'd done to me all those years ago when she wouldn't listen to reason. "No more saving the world, just a nice pond with no pesky fish in it. And the single most pressing issue in my life, is whether or not to get a dog. There's a lot of pros and cons to consider."
I keep up my tirade in a vain attempt at counteracting the effect she's having on me. I'm furious with myself at my reaction to her. How her imploring eyes make me want to tell her it's okay she's betrayed me on every level and I'll come back for more. Just on the off-chance she'll say she's missed me as much as I've missed her.
"Jack, I'm talking about the future of the Human race!" This time she says my name without hesitation, and one more brick in the wall I've built around my heart tumbles to the ground.
"So was I"
"We're doing this," she states resolutely, giving me one last chance to reconsider my position.
"Let me know how things turn out."
"I won't have to. If we succeed, none of this will have ever happened. You'll never know. Wouldn't you rather be there so you know? At least for the split-second before this is all gone? Our chances are a lot better with you than without you."
"Let me ask you something. What does your *dearly beloved* ambassador have to say about all this?" Sam looks up at me, and the expression on her face is unreadable. I don't know if she's mad at me for the sarcasm, or herself for not thinking of Joe as her "dearly beloved."
"I haven't had a chance to tell him," she says softly.
I feel the urge to spit out another nasty comment, but there's something about her stance that holds me back. "How come?"
"I was going to tell him this morning, but we got into a fight."
"Oh," I say, wondering if I want to pursue this.
"About you. About my coming here."
"You got to the part about looking me up but didn't tell him about saving the world?" I ask, surprised I took precedence over Earth.
"I was getting there," she says, gaze cast downward, "but as soon as I mentioned your name he started shouting. He actually tried to forbid me from coming to see you," she says, looking up with a weak smile.
"I'm sure *that* went over well," I say, imagining the fire in Sam's eyes. She could put a Goa'uld's glowing eyes to shame when she was really pissed.
"Needless to say, I'm here," she says, shrugging her shoulders. We stand there for a moment, gazes locked, both at a loss for words. And all I can think is it has to be a crime for her to look so beautiful. Does Joe know what he's got? Is that why he was so adamant about her not coming to see me? That he sees me as a threat and can't bear the thought of losing her? Well, I could tell him a thing or two about missing Sam and what it's like to lose her. I'm sure he's not a bad guy. Hell, maybe I'd even like him under different circumstances, but these are the circumstances I've got.
As we stare at each other I wonder if there's a reason Joe would feel threatened. Is it possible she still harbors feelings for me as I do her? After our argument over changing time, I find it ironic how it's now at a standstill as I gravitate toward her. My hand reaches out, brushing against her still-toned stomach, feeling the material of that sexy T-shirt under my fingers. Running my hand around her side to her back, the cloth feels as sensual as silk as I pull her closer.
She isn't resisting, but so far she hasn't moved closer to me. Am I misreading the look in her eyes? Is she remaining passive so she can claim it was "all me" if she has to confess later? Or is she afraid to let herself go, a tight rein on her feelings as she's always had? Slowly, her hand reaches out, touching my shoulder, then sliding over, she burys her hand in hair on the back of my neck.
My skin is on fire from her caress, and I step closer to her, lowering my lips to hers. There's a instant of awkwardness between us as we slightly adjust our position. I've had the advantage of kissing her before--both in an alternate reality and during a time loop--but this is new to her, and she's hesitant. It takes a moment, but the kiss soon deepens and I feel the world slip away. Perhaps someone has beat her to the punch and already changed time, and this is the last second of our existence.
Before I can prove that theory, Sam's pulling away from me, unshed tears in her eyes. "I have to go," she whispers, and I know it's true. I won't try to persuade her to stay. I know she would if she could.
Walking back to her vehicle, she turns and asks, "Will you come?"
shoving my hands into my pockets, I look out over the pond, then over to the cabin. It's not a bad life. I've been happy here as I can be. Without her. "I'll think about it."
She nods, getting into her car. I can't watch her drive away. Instead, I walk to the back of the cabin, picking up my fishing lure puzzle, attempting to untangle the hooks from one another. Looking out over the pond I think: I can always get a dog.
The End
Story Notes: Season/Sequel Info: Season four, specifically "2010"
Spoilers: Major ones for "2010"
Story notes: Knowledge of the cabin scene in "2010" helpful, but not necessary.
Spoilers: Major ones for "2010"
Story notes: Knowledge of the cabin scene in "2010" helpful, but not necessary.
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 ]