I dreamed of this so long
This used to feel so strong
Now I wait
Wish these thought would go away
***
She stared at the felt tip marker in her hand, praying for the courage to use it.
The silence in her lab was almost annoying, and she wished for one of her experiments to beep. She wished to hear the footsteps of people walking past. But it was 0640 and people were only just arriving for their days, not yet near the labs. She wished for something, anything, to distract her. But no sounds came.
Mentally kicking herself for being so ridiculous, she put the marker against the paper and wrote.
Looking at the words staring back at her, mocking her, she gasped.
Tempting as it was to shred the paper and start again, Sam found herself unable, or perhaps unwilling, to do it. The words looked right, even if their connotations were oh so wrong.
"You're an idiot." She muttered to herself.
Her arm slid down the paper a little, marker once more resting on the crisp whiteness of it. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, Sam tried to focus her thoughts. She knew what she had to write, knew why she had to write it. So she did.
Only it came out just like the first time.
"Damnit." Clearly her hands had disconnected themselves from her brain. Or she was possessed, a host perhaps. Or she was under the influence of a drug, "This is insane," she told herself, staring at the words before her. "If this is some stupid unconscious desire of mine, I just have to get over it." It was never going to happen, no matter how many times she wrote it down.
Felt tip marker shaking in her hands, she tried again.
But the result was the same.
Releasing a sigh of frustration, she threw the marker across the room, promptly hitting one very startled General in the process.
"Pent-up anger Carter?" Jack asked, walking into the room with an amused smile on his face.
Sam wanted to smack that smile off his face. "Yes sir." She replied through gritted teeth, hoping that he would get the hint.
He didn't.
"What's up?" He asked in that caring, sweet voice.
"Nothing."
"Carter?"
"I said it's nothing!"
"Obviously it's something if you're getting defensive about whatever it is." He was right, damnit, not that she'd tell him that.
"I'm trying to sign my name, ok?"
"Haven't you been doing that for twen-" at her glare, he coughed. "a while now?"
"Not with a last name of Shanahan I haven't."
"Ah."
"Yeah." Well, this was awkward.
"So what's the problem?"
"It's not coming out right." Sam admitted.
"What do you mean? Don't like the curve of your 'S'? I don't think the health of your soon-to-happen marriage matters all that much if your signature is a little off."
"No, it's not that…" She would not show him the paper. She would *not* show him the paper. She would *not* show *him* the paper. *She* would *not* show *him* the paper. *She* *woul-
She showed him.
He grinned, taking the piece of paper from her, seeing her familiar writing across the white surface. The same name signed three times. "Is that all?"
Glaring again, she took the paper away from him. "What do you mean 'all'? I can't be writing that. I don't even know why I'm writing that!"
"Unconscious desire?" he asked, unknowingly mimicking her earlier words.
"I don't know!" She sighed in frustration, hands moving to cover her flushed face.
He grinned a bit more. "I need your help with something."
Grateful for the distraction from her brain's inability to function, Sam lifted her hands from her face. "What?"
Jack thought for a moment, for once in his life choosing his words carefully. "I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine. About me running the SGC as a civilian. I need your help with my resignation letter, if you don't mind?"
"That's it?"
"It can be."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"After eight years, it all comes down to a piece of paper?"
"Yep. And, if I have anything to do with it, you'll have plenty of time to practice signing your name like that."
"Really?'
"Yeah, your 'O' needs a little work and I can only clearly see one 'L'. Us O'Neill's are very big on being definitive about the two L's thing."
"Really?
"Yep."
"I suppose I could work on it."
She smiled.
He grinned.
***
Told you it was short!
Story Notes: Author's notes: For Amy, who Asked. ;-) It's short, sweet, an so not to the point!
Feedback: Hell yeah! Don't make me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW.
Date: 07/01/2005
Copyright © to Venom, 2004
Feedback: Hell yeah! Don't make me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW.
Date: 07/01/2005
Copyright © to Venom, 2004
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 ]