samandjack.net

Story Notes: Waiting 5 : SPOILERS: Chain Reaction

SEQUEL: Waiting and Waiting 2: Politics, Waiting 3: Shades of Grey, Waiting 4: Chain Reaction......I'll Happily send copies to anyone who wants one :):)


He must have blacked out for a few minutes....he must have done...because the next thing he heard was Carter's voice, asking him if he was okay......Dumb question. And Carter was supposed to be the smart one.

"I've been shot , Carter," he groaned.

Of course he wasn't all right....she should try getting shot and see how it made her feel.

"I know," she replied, "Your vest stopped one of the bullets."

"I want sleeves in my vest."

His voice sounded almost child like, there was a definite whine in his tone. Sam allowed herself a nervous smile as she ran her hand over his shoulder, careful not to touch the wound.

"You're going to be fine, help's on the way," she said.

He rolled over onto his side,

"I'm not kidding, they should put sleeves in these things," he carried on.

"Did you see who shot you?"

"No."

Didn't see, didn't hear....God, he really hated getting shot. And why was it always his right arm? His favourite, the one he did stuff with......But whoever it was couldn't have been much of a shot...they should have aimed for his head.

"Sir, can you sit up for me? It might help the bleeding."

Sam wanted him to move? Was she nuts? Her arms slipped around his waist and she gently pulled him upright. He soon found himself propped up against the wall...however he couldn't seem to stay that way. A few seconds later, he found himself sliding towards the floor. Moving quickly, Sam managed to catch him before he hit the ground. Not to be discouraged, she settled herself behind him, bringing him back to rest against her. One of her arms snaked around his waist while the other supported his injured shoulder.

"Easy, sir," she whispered.

"Hurts," he replied.

His head flopped back to rest on her shoulder.

"So...how many times have you been shot?" she asked.

It was an attempt to keep him distracted. Jack recognised her tactics, but he answered her anyway.

"Only seven...if you count the bullet the vest stopped...you?"

"Just once...so far."

"We should compare scars some time."

She shifted behind him, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. Jack turned his head slightly, so Sam could feel his breath on her neck.

"Sir," she warned, her voice cautious.

But Jack didn't move. The only time he ever got this close to Carter was when he was too sick to appreciate it. The medics would be here soon enough. To his surprise the arms which held him, tightened.

"Carter?" he questioned.

Sam turned her head, so he couldn't see the single tear which trailed down her cheek..

"I though I'd lost you," he whispered.

This time she felt his lips move, brushing her skin as he spoke. Tired and in pain, Jack wasn't really aware of what he was doing. He felt safe and cared for...in the arms of the woman he loved. If he died now, he'd be a happy man.

"Carter?" he questioned again, just to make sure it was her.

"I'm here, Jack," she replied.

"Tired."

"I know...try to sleep."

"'kay."

She could hear the sounds of people approaching. Jack would be okay. Quickly, before anyone came into view, Sam brushed her lips against his forehead.

"Felt that," Jack mumbled.

Then he really did seem to sleep. A few minutes later the medics appeared. He grumbled as they gently took him from her and Sam herself felt strangely bereft. Next thing she knew, Daniel was pulling her to her feet and enveloping her in a hug. Teal'c was next in line and his attentions were barely less restrained. It felt good....but the one person whose arms she wanted around her had barely touched her. When he'd been unlocking he cuffs, his hand had briefly rested on her knee and that had been it. Okay, so Maybourne had been in the room, even so.... Sam had expected more.

But he had found her...it had taken him four days to do it...and it looked as if he'd had to make another deal with the devil....only to get shot for his pains. So he'd saved Sam's life, and she'd got to rescue him right back. Which was a fair compromise, she supposed. The question of who shot him worried her. The obvious candidate was Maybourne, but somehow.....it didn't
quite add up.

Sam wasn't really in any condition to think clearly. A well meaning paramedic wrapped her in a blanket and started to help her outside. Sam would have complained, but she figured she'd probably be taken to the same place as Jack, which could only be good. She wanted to keep an eye on him. It was possible that, whoever had shot him in the first place would try again....especially if they found out he was still alive.

As soon as Jack's condition had stabilised, they were all flown back to Cheyenne mountain. Sam managed to get a little sleep on the flight. What she wanted most of all was to have a hot shower and get out of the hospital scrubs. Jack's blood still stained the front and it wasn't a very pleasant sensation. Daniel had lent her his coat to wear, even so....

Despite being shot full of drugs, Jack woke up as soon as his body registered the fact he was on a plane. The lights were dim and, for a second, he had trouble recalling exactly what had happened. He moved his head slightly, trying to see who else was around. His gaze quickly found Sam. She was curled up, wrapped in Daniel's coat. Her beautiful face was pale and, even in sleep, she didn't look relaxed. As he watched, the muscles in her face twitched and she moaned quietly to herself. Without thinking, Jack tore himself free of his drip and the equipment he was attached to and attempted to get to her.

He knelt down beside her, using his good hand to brush the hair from her face.

"Sam...Sam?" he questioned.

She moaned again....

"Gonna kill me...," her voice muttered.

Her body twisted slightly, as if trying to escape from and unseen assailant. She didn't seem to be comforted by his voice or his touch. If anything, she was trying to get away from him.

"Colonel O'Neill! What are you doing out of bed?"

The nurse...a woman definitely related to Attila the Hun, had returned from the bathroom. She looked as if she was capably of putting him back to bed manually...especially in his weakened condition.

"Something wrong with Carter," he gasped.

He clutched his injured arm to him as, once again, he tried to calm Sam down.

"I'll give her a sedative," the nurse reassured him.

"No, she won't want any more needles," he argued.

Sam had been through enough over the past four days. No doubt she had been knocked out so many times, she no longer knew what day of the week it was. Drugged, tied down....almost killed. No wonder she was having nightmares. He looked at the way her body was curled up. She had been trying to find a comfortable position, despite the fact she was wearing a seat belt.....Fumbling with his good hand, Jack tried to flip the catch and release her.

"Stop that," the nurse ordered.

Naturally, Jack took no notice. There was only one medical professional he was scared of...and Dr. Fraiser was currently deep in Cheyenne mountain. With a satisfying click the belt came free. Sensing she had been released Sam's hand instantly clasped around his own, ready to fight her way to freedom.

"Hey, it's me," he reassured her.

"Colonel...you should be in bed", she replied, her voice heavy with sleep.

"He's just going," the nurse answered for him.

She grasped his good arm and Jack knew it was time to stop playing games. He let her take him back to the bed and plug him back in. His head turned to Sam....she went back to sleep almost immediately, much happier now she wasn't restrained.

Jack closed his eyes. He had done it. He had saved her.

**********************************************************************************

"One of you has to take him home," Janet ordered.

The rest of SG-1 didn't seem exactly enthusiastic.

"Do you have any idea how annoying Jack can be when he's ill?" Daniel demanded.

"Why do you think I want him out of my infirmary?" Janet replied.

"I'll do it," Sam volunteered.

Janet looked at her friend, surprised that Sam would put herself in a position whereby she was alone with Colonel O'Neill.

"I guess I owe him one," Sam explained.

By a series of obscure gestures, Janet told Daniel to go too.....however the archaeologist was thinking about some artefact SG-6 had picked up and was a little slow on the uptake.

"Doctor Fraiser, why are you winking at DanielJackson?" Teal'c asked.

"Daniel can come and pick me up from the Colonel's," Sam suggested.

"Fine," Janet replied.

"What?" Daniel asked.

"That's settled then.....get that man out of my infirmary."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam grinned.

The Colonel was sitting on his bed, looking very sorry for himself. His right arm was caught up in a sling, over which he had placed his leather jacket.

"Can I go yet?" he demanded as soon as he saw Janet.

"Major Carter has very kindly volunteered to drive you home," the doctor replied.

"Carter has?"

"She's waiting for you outside."

"Cool."

He jumped off the bed and instantly regretted the movement. Despite his protests to Janet, he wasn't feeling himself. Being shot did that to you. He supposed he should have been thankful it was just in the arm and not somewhere more serious. As it was his days in the infirmary hadn't been a complete waste....Carter had come to see him three times. And she'd stayed for a while. They'd played chess....Sam won...but only because he was distracted.

Sam was waiting for him in the corridor. Dressed in civvies, she was casually leaning against the wall, chatting to Sergeant Siler. When she saw Jack her smile brightened and she came over to him,

"I hope you don't mind me driving your truck. I brought my bike in today."

He hated the idea of anyone else driving his precious vehicle...but Jack still nodded and smiled. If they took his truck how was she going to get home?

"Daniel's going to pick me up when he's done here," she explained.

Ah...Spacemonkey. Jack should have known there'd be a catch. Oh well, he'd have Sam to himself for at least...hmm...thirty minutes, if she drove slowly. Maybe if he whined and complained enough she'd stay for a bit longer.

"How's it feeling?" she asked as she started the truck.

"I've had worse," Jack replied.

He found himself grabbing hold of the seat with his good hand as Sam drove off the base. It was stupid really. Sam was a very good driver...better than he was, in fact. She caught the gesture and grinned at him.

"If it makes you feel any better, sir, I'll let you drive mine next time."

"Really?"

Jack's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. Sam's car was way cool.

"Yes, really," she smiled back. "I think I can trust you not to scratch the paintwork."

What was this? She was smiling a lot more than she had recently. Was there something no one had told him? He wasn't getting his memos again, that was it.

"Sir, do you want to stop on the way back?"

"My bladder control's not that bad, Carter."

"I meant...is there anything you need to get? Groceries? Breakfast?"

Jack shook his head. He just wanted to go home and go to bed. His head hurt. Definitely a sign he'd been thinking too much....and it was only going to continue. He wasn't going to be fit for duty for a while which was going to leave him with way too much time on his hands. Too much time to think about the blonde woman sitting next to him....who was smiling again. Maybe it was just the fact it was a beautiful morning and she was enjoying the drive, but Jack suspected some kind of plot.

"Here we are, sir."

His eyes snapped open. Damn, he'd slept through most of his quality Sam time and he was home already. She jumped out of the truck, and came round to his side. Jack waved away her offers of help,

"I'm not an invalid, Carter!" he snapped.

"With due respect, you're not quite yourself yet either."

She took his good arm, providing balance as he clambered down. Clearly, Sam had received instructions to look after him. She even offered to make him breakfast.....which he declined, knowing exactly how good Sam's cooking was....or more importantly, how much she hated doing it.

"I think I might just grab some more sleep," he mumbled.

"Good idea. Janet said you weren't sleeping very well."

"Never do in the infirmary. I'll see you later."

"Need any help?"

Jack nearly tripped up the steps. What had Sam said? He must be going deaf in his old age. Turning, he stared at her, trying to see some sign in her face. She just smiled back at him.....again. Jack decided to make a quick retreat to his bedroom. He threw himself on the bed, not bothering to get undressed. Sleep was the best thing he could do now, maybe it would stop him having delusions.

He woke several hours later. In considerable pain. He'd been sleeping in an awkward position and his shoulder was now throbbing. Janet had given him some drugs but Jack had no idea where they were. He forced himself out of bed and staggered towards the living room. To his surprise he wasn't alone in his house. Daniel was sitting on the couch, papers spread out around him, drinking what must have been his tenth coffee.

"Hi," Jack ventured.

"Hmmmm?" Daniel wasn't really paying any attention.

"Let me rephrase that....what are you doing in my house?"

"Oh...oh...I came to pick up Sam, but she said she had some stuff to do and borrowed my car."

"Borrowed your car?"

"Yes...she said she was coming back."

"Good."

Daniel shuffled his papers around, ignoring Jack again. Hurting too much to really care, he went in search of his pain killers. They had been left on the kitchen table.....not by him....Sam must have done it. He tipped out a couple of pills and swallowed them dry.

"See you, Daniel," Jack waved as he headed back to his bed.

"What? Right? Okay......see you," was his friend's coherent reply.

The next time Jack awoke it was dark outside....and there was a very strange smell in the house. By this time he had actually managed to take some of his clothes off. He was dressed in his boxer shorts and an old T-shirt when he ventured into the kitchen.

"What the....?"

Sam was standing in front of the cooker, an apron around her waist and she looked as if....as if she was cooking. She'd turned around when she'd heard him, a panicked expression crossing her face.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Making dinner," she replied. "Or trying to."

"I thought you didn't cook."

"I don't....but it can't be that much harder than astrophysics."

"If you say so."

"Excuse me sir, but I'm just getting to the complicated stage."

"Right...I'll go and take a shower, while you .....finish."

"Keep the pizza menu on standby."

There was that smile again. The one designed to make him nuts. It was only when he had gotten into the shower that he realised something else....Sam had been wearing a dress. A very sexy dress.....

Did this mean what he thought it meant?

Smiling or not, the only thing Sam was currently worried about was how bad this dinner was going to be. What Jack didn't know was the fact her first two attempts were currently languishing at the bottom of his trash can. She was starting to think she should have ordered in and lied. Why were recipes so complicated? How much was a pinch of salt?

And a cup? What kind of measurement was that? And how accurate did she need to be?

It was all very confusing. Trying to shake off the feeling of inadequacy, she poured half a bottle of red wine into the sauce and hoped for the best. One thing....it smelled pretty good. She turned her attention to the potatoes, adding more butter. This meal was hardly going to be on the healthy eating list.

Sam was checking on the meat when she felt a very strange sensation. Her concentration had been total and she hadn't heard Jack return....so the feel of his arm sliding about her waist and his chin on her shoulder came as a surprise....albeit a very pleasant one. He smelt good too, fresh from his foray into the bathroom. Jack was close enough that Sam could admire the clean, sharp scent of his shower gel.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Okay....I think. Does this look the right colour to you?"

"You're asking me?"

"Right."

"Anything I can do?"

"Table?"

"You've got it."

He gave her a quick squeeze before moving away. He'd put on a clean shirt and a pair of jeans...his injured arm still caught up in it's sling. Sam glanced fondly at him as he fumbled with the cutlery. It seemed she had got her message across, so maybe it wouldn't matter if dinner was a disaster.

But it wasn't. The food made it to the table in an edible form. Very edible, judging from the way Jack was eating. She knew he'd been living on infirmary food for a while, even so....Sam took a forkful, and gingerly tasted the fruits of her efforts. Not bad. She should try this more often.

"Got any more?" Jack asked, scraping his plate clean.

"You sure?"

"Yeah...and I'm starving."

Sam ladled some more onto his plate. He ate more slowly this time, breathing between forkfuls.

"So," he began, "all this...."

She cast her eyes downwards, blushing into her wine.

"Lots of reasons," she said.

"Carter?"

"I was thinking...with everything that's happened recently.....maybe it's our time."

He nodded once and started eating again. Sam blushed even harder, she really had been too obvious. Way too obvious.

*********************************************************************************

"I nearly died, Jack...not in the line of duty, not protecting earth with a gun in my hand....because some psycho wanted to cut up my brain. I couldn't do anything..."

"I know....I know."

His hand traced up and down her spine, sliding easily on the smooth skin. Familiar. comforting. Sam couldn't help but relax at his touch.

"I've never felt so helpless."

"You weren't, you fought them long enough for me to get to you. That's all you needed to do."

"I don't think I've ever been so glad to see anyone in my life....and don't mention P3X595."

He chuckled, "I don't know I recall a couple of things I liked about that planet."

Sam giggled, sounding a little more like herself.

"And do you still like them?" she asked.

"Oh yes..."

Settling herself, she continued talking.

"This year has been hard, you know. We've lost so many good people, people I cared about, I didn't want it to be too late. I didn't want to have regrets, Jack....regret being with you. I...I love you."

Jack gathered Sam back into his arms, pressing a kiss onto her upturned lips. The admission wasn't easy for her. None of this had been easy for her. Jack was well aware of how hard it was to get close to Sam. Despite her natural warmth, she was wary of letting anyone be in a position to hurt her. He felt deeply honoured. She was gazing at him, now. Her big blue eyes
asking him the obvious question.

"Sam, you know I love you."

"Sometimes I wondered."

"What about?"

"How you could keep on loving me."

"Believe me, loving you has never been a problem. Trying to stop....now that was hard. "

"I'm kind of glad you didn't."

Sam reached up, brushing his hair off his forehead...the kind of gesture she'd been wanting to make for years. Jack's hair always stuck up in such an adorable fashion.

"What about the regs?" he said, gently, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

"Screw the regs," Sam replied.

"Didn't we just do that? "

"Jack...."

"But if you really insist..."



The End




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