Part 1
07.45 Monday
It was fall again. The air was crisp, the sky was clear and the sun was bright as Sam drove the familiar route to work. She loved this time of year, there was always a sense of anticipation in the air. It reminded her of going back to school, with new challenges ahead and with all of the mistakes of the past year burned away by the heat of the summer. And this year she felt that anticipation more keenly than normal; she could almost smell it, so strong was the sense that *something* was about to happen.
Regretfully she passed the security point and drove into the darkness of the mountain, its huge weight blocking out the bright sunshine. She parked in the first available space and climbed out, noticing the Colonel's truck parked opposite her. It was dusty and mud- splattered, and she couldn't help but wonder what he'd been doing during their week's stand down. Probably gone up to his cabin, she realized. He hadn't asked her to come along though, which wasn't a surprise. Their relationship had been strictly professional since the day when he'd been left with no alternative but to fire the zat twice, knowing she would die along with the entity. In fact, the Colonel had been assiduous in avoiding any situation that might have even looked compromising - she'd barely seen him outside work since January, and only then with Daniel or Teal'c. He'd never exactly explained why, but she suspected that something had happened while she was out of it - something that had spooked him. She just didn't know what.
She sighed as she pressed the button to call the elevator. She missed him. Which was odd, considering that she saw him almost every day. But there was a distance between them now that stretched the emotional tie they'd once shared almost to the breaking point. If not beyond. She understood why, of course, and approved his motive. Their forced confession in front of Anise, Janet and Teal'c had shaken them both, the consequences of the truth going beyond those four walls too bleak to consider; an end of SG-1 as they knew it. To this day she was astonished that Hammond hadn't reassigned her to another team. But he hadn't and as the days and weeks had passed she and the Colonel had reached a tacit understanding that they would try to put their feelings aside and move on together as a team. Which was exactly what she'd spent the past twelve months doing; repressing, ignoring, denying. It was wearying and she felt as though she hardly smiled anymore, hardly laughed. And she couldn't remember the last time the Colonel had cracked a grin, or even so much as looked at her with anything more than cool professionalism. But it was worth it, she reminded herself. She had duties and ambitions. But still...she missed him. She missed the warm smiles, the casual banter, the unspoken sense that he cared for her. It was all gone, hidden under a mountain of responsibility, of regulation, and perhaps, a little fear as well. She didn't blame him for that, but she still missed him.
Ping! The elevator door juddered open and she stepped inside and hit the down button, feeling her stomach lurch with the swift drop. And today, Sam reflected as she watched the floors flick slowly past, she missed him all the more. Because a year ago today she'd been forced to watch him confess, with as much dignity as the situation allowed, how much she meant to him. It was the first and only real acknowledgment of the feelings that had grown between them, and for that, at least, the memory had a place in her heart.
The elevator doors opened and Sam hurried down the hall to catch the next one that would take her down into the SGC. She slipped through the closing doors just in time, and nodded a greeting to the couple of airmen already inside. And as the elevator started to descend she sighed again and wondered if O'Neill would recognize the memories that floated behind her eyes, today of all days.
***
08.00 Monday
Jack was early for the briefing and was enjoying the peace of the empty room. He stood leaning against the window frame, gazing down at the activity in the gate-room. On the large table behind him sat the pile of papers he'd brought with him to skim through before the meeting, but they lay untouched; he was rarely in the mood for paperwork, and least of all today.
He sighed, and leaned his head against his arm. He felt old. And weary. Another year had slipped by and nothing had changed - the war still raged, the SGC still fought, and the light at the end of the tunnel was as far away as ever. Sometimes it seemed so faint, he wondered if it was there at all.
He shoved the thought away, forcing himself out of his slump. Things weren't so bad. Okay, so they'd lost the Tollen.... That was bad. Very bad. Shocking, actually. But other than that things were going okay.... Oh, who was he kidding? It wasn't the progress of the war that was needling him today, it wasn't even his niggling guilt at the fate of the Tollen. It was something far less heroic, far less interplanetary - and far more human. It was Carter.
For the past year he'd been walking on egg-shells, second guessing himself almost every time he opened his mouth around her, looking over his shoulder, wondering if he was betraying himself. Hammond hadn't said anything of course, nothing overt - but his little caution when Sam had been possessed by the computer alien thing, well that had hit home. Not that Jack had ever entertained a doubt that he would compromise the team or the base or the planet because of his feelings for Carter, but the fact that Hammond knew.... Hell, he knew the position that put the General in and the risk he was taking by not moving to split them up. And the last thing he wanted to do was exploit the implicit trust Hammond had shown in them. So, he was very careful not to let anything slip. And he'd been damn good at it - hell, even the rumor mill had stopped. And that thing had been churning away since day one.
Yeah he was good at it, good at pretending that he didn't miss her, that he didn't think about her more often than was healthy, hadn't printed out and signed his letter of resignation at least six times. He was real good. So good, in fact, he was beginning to think he'd fooled Carter too. She seemed so distant now and their warm, sparkling friendship was a mere shadow of its former self. They treated each other with the easy familiarity of colleagues, but the heat was gone and he had to say he regretted it. He missed her - he missed her smile, her humor and her warmth. And he wondered if she missed him too. He wondered if she'd remember significance of the date, wondered if it was burned into her mind as indelibly as it was in his own. He wondered if....
"Colonel?"
It was Sam. Of course. Turning slowly, he met her eyes. They were as carefully guarded as his own and gave nothing away. "Carter," he said quietly, moving back towards the table and falling into their usual bland repartee, "you're early."
Sam shrugged. "So are you," she said. And then, in a hesitant voice added, "Actually, I was looking for you."
"Something you need?" he asked wearily, dropping her gaze as he sat down and started fiddling with the stack of papers.
"I just thought...," she said quietly, and trailed despondently to a halt.
Jack's heart somersaulted at the emotion he heard in her voice; she hadn't spoken to him like that all year. He looked up and their eyes met for a long moment, a moment full of truth and regret and for the first time in too long he felt as if he was actually seeing *her*. His mouth opened before he could stop himself. "It's been a hell of a year," he said quietly, drawing a faint smile to her lips.
"Yeah," she agreed just as softly.
"You wanna talk?" he asked. "It's been a while since we...talked."
But she shook her head. "No. It's probably not a good idea."
"Probably not," he agreed. "But maybe...."
"Actually," she blurted, interrupting him as she began to back out of the door. "I just remembered I left something running in the lab... Excuse me."
Frustrated, Jack rose to his feet. "Sam?" he called, stalling her flight from the room.
She stopped, eyes wide and face inscrutable once more. "Sir?"
Sir. Right. He sighed. "Are you okay?"
Her lips tightened and indecision flashed briefly across her face before she resolutely nodded her head and said, "Yes, sir. I'm sorry I disturbed you."
"You didn't," he assured her.
But Sam just nodded again and turned away, leaving him alone in the room. And although the pain was less raw, it was as deep and heart- wrenching as it had been the day she'd told him to lock away his feelings for her.
***
08.15 Monday
With his files under one arm, and balancing a sandwich on top of his coffee in the other hand, Daniel backed his way into the briefing room, nudging the door open with his shoulder. He was early, but Jack, it seemed, was earlier.
As O'Neill glanced up Daniel caught the flash of disappointment in his eyes, but it was quickly suppressed. "You're early," he said, pushing away the papers he'd been working on.
"Am I interrupting?" Daniel asked, glancing around the room. "Were you expecting someone?"
"No," Jack replied quickly. "I was just getting some paperwork out of the way."
Daniel grimaced as he carefully rested his coffee on the table. "Yeah," he said, dropping his armful of files, "same here."
"I won't disturb you," Jack assured him with a wry grin. "I *really* need to get this done, or Hammond's gonna kick my ass all the way through the damn gate!"
Daniel nodded and the room fell into silence. Opposite him, Jack pulled the pile of papers closer and started reading again, his chin resting on one hand. Daniel watched him for a moment as he sipped his coffee, and soon realized that Jack's mind had wandered. He was obviously deep in thought about something, but from the pensive look in his eyes, Daniel doubted he was deliberating SGC operating procedures. In fact, Daniel had a damn good idea what he was thinking about, or, more accurately, who. Ever since the day Jack had been forced to zat Sam's alien-possessed body, something between them had changed. Their closeness had stopped so suddenly that it could only have been a deliberate decision, and since there was no bitterness between them Daniel suspected that the decision had been a mutual one. He didn't know the details, although he'd speculated with Teal'c from time to time, but whatever had happened it had thrown a bucket of ice-water over their relationship and he was beginning to wonder if it would ever recover.
Behind him, Daniel heard the door open. Jack looked up, but this time there was no disappointment in his eyes, merely resignation. "Teal'c," he nodded. "Is *everyone* early today?"
"I am not early," Teal'c assured him. "It is oh-eight-fifty-eight."
Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He checked his watch. "Damn."
Teal'c cast a quizzical look at Daniel, who merely shrugged. "Jack's been trying to do paperwork," he explained.
Sitting down, Teal'c nodded slowly. "Such are the burdens of command," he noted with a gleam in his eye.
Daniel bit back a grin of his own, and Jack just scowled. "Thanks Teal'c," he muttered. "I appreciate your support."
The door clicked open again, and Daniel was surprised to see that Jack kept his eyes fixed firmly on his paperwork this time. "Hi," came Sam's voice, a little more subdued that usual.
"Hey," he said, smiling at her over his shoulder. "Good week off?"
"Great," she replied, returning the smile. "You?"
"Yeah, there was a conference up in Chicago I wanted to catch, and it was well worth the trip."
"How about you, Teal'c?" Sam said then, taking her customary seat at Jack's side. "How's Ryack?"
"He is well," Teal'c replied, smiling proudly. "And growing tall and strong; he is almost a man now."
As Teal'c spoke, Daniel's eyes were still on Jack, so he saw the slight flash of pain in his friend's eyes and knew that he was thinking about his own son. But he left his sympathy unexpressed; Jack wouldn't want it.
As a slightly awkward silence descended, Sam started shuffling her own papers and after a moment said, "Did you catch any fish, sir?"
Jack glanced at her sideways. "No," he replied, "but as I explained to Teal'c...." Then he frowned. "How did you know I went fishing?"
Sam smiled slightly and a faint blush touched her cheek, as if she'd just given herself away. "Lucky guess," she replied, catching his eye for a moment. "What else would you do with a week's leave?"
He said nothing for a moment, his gaze returning to the papers in front of him. Then he sighed quietly, "Yeah, what else?"
Sam frowned and looked as if she wanted to say something more. But whatever it was, she swallowed the words because at that moment General Hammond strode into the room and drew the meeting to order.
***
12.26 Monday
Sam was busy. Her fingers were actually beginning to ache as they flew over the keyboard, but she really did need to get this mineral analysis complete before the end of the day and besides, it was a good distraction.
"...would be my recommendation that the third tranche of minerals should be...."
Ping!
Sam smiled. New mail. There was nothing like the welcome distraction of new mail in the middle of a tedious report. She clicked into her email and gave her cramping hands a shake as she read the incoming messate.
From: col.jonathon.oneill@s...
To: maj.samantha.carter@....;
dr.daniel.jackson@s...; tealc@s...
Sent: September 3 2001 12:09
Subject: Hungry, bored - lunch?
Last one there buys....
O'Neill
Sam smiled to herself, and clicked 'Reply All'.
From: maj.samantha.carter@....
To: col.jonathon.oneill@s...;
dr.daniel.jackson@s...; tealc@s...
Sent: September 3 2001 12:13
Subject: Re: Hungry, bored - lunch?
Apologies. Some of us actually have work to do, sir. Tuna sub and a
diet-soda if you're passing though....
Carter
But her finger lingered over the send key - was she being too informal? Maybe she should just ignore it? They'd figure out she wasn't going to show when she...didn't show. Then again.... She'd been so close to saying something this morning, when she'd gone to find him before the briefing - just to make some kind of acknowledgement of their silent, personal struggle over the past year. It had been wrong of course, and they'd both known it, but for some reason her self-imposed restraint was rankling today. Was it really so bad if she asked him for a sub and a soda? Would the heavens open and strike one of them dead? Hardly. With a flutter of unease she determinedly sent the mail, and returned to work on her report.
But she couldn't help but wonder if she'd get her sub and soda....
***
13.19 Monday
In the end, only Daniel showed. Teal'c never checked his email anyhow, and Carter.... Jack sighed, in two minds about Carter. She wasn't here - no surprise. He couldn't remember the last time they'd eaten together other than off-world. But she had replied to his message, and with rather more informality than he'd grown used to. There was almost a hint of the old, slightly rebellious spark in the tone of the message - 'Some of us actually have work to do, sir' - that sounded like the old Carter, the one he missed so badly.
"Penny for them," Daniel said, interrupting his musings as he pushed away his empty plate and turned his attention to his coffee.
Jack gave a crooked smile. "Not even worth that," he assured his friend.
"Mind if I guess?" Daniel asked, peering at him over the top of his glasses.
There was something bright in Daniel's eyes that made him uneasy. "Umm...no...I suppose..."
Daniel leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. "I'm guessing...your Car," he said conspiratorially.
"My car?" Jack replied, eyebrows rising.
"Seems like it could do with a tune up to me."
"What? What do you know about my car? You barely know where to stick the fuel pump in!"
Daniel chuckled to himself, much to Jack's confusion. "Well, I don't think we need to discuss the mechanics," he said, still grinning. "I was thinking of your general... relationship...with your Car."
"Daniel, what the hell are you talking about? My relationship with my car?"
He shrugged. "Just seems like it's been a tough year, that you've been running on empty for a while and that maybe you and your...Car...could spend some time together to...get reacquainted." And then he grinned again. "I'll leave the refuelling as a matter between you and her."
Jack stared for a moment longer before Daniel's not-so-subtle metaphor clarified itself in his mind. He frowned, embarrassed. "Wait," he said irritably, "if you're talking about...." He lowered his voice. "Are you talking about...Carter?"
Daniel just smiled.
"For crying out loud, Daniel," he hissed, "I don't have a relationship with Carter!"
"Sure you do," Daniel objected.
"I do not!"
"You're friends, aren't you?" Daniel pressed. "That's a relationship."
Jack frowned. "Yeah, well, I'm not so sure we are...."
"My point exactly, Jack," Daniel said more seriously. "Look - I don't know what's happened between you and I don't want to. It's none of my business, and frankly I have more important things to worry about. But something's changed - you both seem kind of, um, withdrawn, up-tight. I can't remember the last time I saw you laugh. Either of you." Jack frowned at the picture, but in all honesty couldn't deny the truth of it and so held his tongue. "All I'm saying is that maybe you should talk - quit being the Colonel for a while and talk to Sam, not 'Carter'."
"Yeah, well, that's the problem, isn't it?" he muttered in response. "I *can't* quit being the Colonel, and so she'll always be Carter. To me, anyhow." With a sigh, he rose to his feet and turned to leave.
But Daniel called him back. "Jack?"
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Daniel nod towards the tuna sub and soda left on the table. "You want me to take those round to Sam?"
Jack paused, but then nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I need to get back to work."
Daniel just shrugged, although Jack didn't miss the regret in his eyes and as he turned away he found that his friend's words had stuck in his mind: 'All I'm saying is that maybe you should talk - quit being the Colonel for a while and talk to Sam, not 'Carter'. And he found himself wondering if he could, if it was still even possible....
***
17.41 Monday
Almost done. Sam stifled a yawn as she ran through the spell-check - contrary to popular assumption, she was a terrible speller - clicking wearily as her eyes struggled to focus on the screen. She hated spending all day in front of a word processor - it made her feel like a typist. She had so many better things to be doing with her time than writing reports to sit and look impressive in the in-trays of the top brass.
At last she was done, all the red squiggles had disappeared from beneath the words and she hit print, stretching back in her chair and reaching for the remains of her soda. There was little but ice left, rattling around in the bottom as she sucked noisily on the straw.
Daniel had brought it by in the end. She hadn't been surprised. It had been months since the Colonel had stopped by her lab on anything other than official business, and even then he usually came with a chaperone in the form of Teal'c. No doubt he'd considered it too personal, too dangerous to deliver her some lunch - as if that simple act of friendship could send the whole house of cards tumbling down.
She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the smooth hum of the printer. She'd staple the thing together, stick it in her out-tray and be on her way home by eighteen hundred. If the traffic was good she might catch "The Simpsons"....
Ping!
New mail. Leaning forward in her chair, Sam clicked into her email and fervently hoped that it wasn't some last minute request for a report or paper that would keep her tied to her PC for the rest of the evening.
It wasn't.
***
19.59 Monday
"Do you mind if I take this chair?" the young woman asked, startling Jack from his thoughts. He glanced up from his beer and saw her smiling at him; long dark hair spilling over narrow shoulders, young and girlish. Attractive.
"Actually," he said, "I'm waiting for someone."
"Oh," she shrugged. "Okay. Sure." And then she was gone, disappearing into the crowded bar and leaving him alone.
He guessed that he made a pretty pathetic picture - a middle-aged guy, sitting alone in a dark corner of the bar, nursing a beer. He sighed, and took another swig. He felt old. And not a little pathetic, sitting there alone. Waiting. Hoping.
Inviting her had been a reckless, spur of the moment decision at the end of a long day. Perhaps it was Daniel's words at lunch, or his own growing loneliness, but something made him abandon the strict, but unspoken, rule they'd developed about being alone together. One drink wouldn't hurt, he figured, and he really wanted to see her tonight - he needed to talk to her. As a friend, no more. So he'd asked, and she'd given a tentative 'yes', and now he waited. His eyes flicked to the door; she was only half an hour late, it didn't mean she wasn't coming.
***
Sam had been dithering in the parking lot for over twenty minutes. The fall air was crisp and, as high up and out-of-the-way this spot was, her leather jacket wasn't really warm enough to keep out the chill. But inviting as the warmth of the bar appeared, she still hesitated. Should she go in? Tonight of all nights?
It wasn't that she didn't want to. Quite the opposite, in fact. She'd like nothing more than to spend the evening in Jack's company - she hadn't seen enough of him over the past year and she missed him. A lot. And that was the problem. Their relationship had been strictly professional for the past twelve months and professional was how it had to remain. However hard it was sometimes, how however lonely it made her.
She shivered, not entirely from the cold, and reached into her jacket for her car keys. Perhaps she should go? He'd understand, she knew he would. He might even be grateful. But as her fingers slipped into her pocket they curled around the piece of folded paper that had brought her there. Slowly pulling it out, she unfolded and read the brief message again.
From: col.jonathon.oneill@s...
To: maj.samantha.carter@....
Sent: September 3 2001 17:49
Subject: Hey
Hey Carter,
I figure, after a year on the wagon, one drink won't hurt.
Trudy's (2010 W. 21st Street) tonight? 1930?
O'Neill
Glancing up, she looked over at his truck. It had been here since she arrived, so she knew for sure that he was in there, waiting for her. It was already past eight, and she wondered how long he'd wait before he gave up on her and went home. Could she do that to him? Stand him up? Closing her eyes, she imagined their awkward meeting the following morning and shuddered. She could already see the guarded disappointment in his face, imagine they way his eyes would just miss hers when they were talking, and the way he'd carefully avoid being alone with her. No, that would be worse. And after all, it was just one drink. Right?
"One drink," she said aloud. "One drink won't hurt. I can handle this. We can both handle this."
Folding the paper again she shoved it back into her pocket and walked determinedly towards the bar, trying to ignore the way her stomach was fluttering in anticipation.
***
She's not coming, Jack decided as he watched the hand on his watch tick away another minute. Ten after eight. She was beyond late, and Carter was never late. He sighed as disappointment washed over him, although he wasn't entirely surprised; it had always been easier for Sam to hold the line. She had more to lose, after all. So it was no surprise that she didn't want to risk what she had and he admired her for that, in a way. Although he knew that if her feelings for him were as powerful as those he harbored for her, there was no way she could ignore....
"Colonel?"
His heart leaped painfully as he looked up and realized she was standing right in front of him. "Carter!" he breathed, unable to control the relief he felt. She'd come. She'd cared enough to come.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she murmured, sitting down opposite him. "I was...."
"It's okay," he assured her, fighting a sudden urge to reach out and touch her hands where they rested on the table. "I'm just glad you're here."
She smiled. "So...?" she said then, looking at him with a question in her eyes.
"So," he agreed, matching her smile. "Drink?"
"Beer," she nodded.
He waved over a waitress and ordered, glad of the distraction while he forced his elation back behind the appropriate barriers. He noticed that Sam still had her jacket on and suspected that she didn't plan to stay long; again, he couldn't blame her. He was just glad she was there at all.
Once the waitress had left, they fell into silence amid the noise of the bar. Everything he wanted to say was forbidden, and anything he *could* say seemed too banal to give voice. So he just watched her, wondering how she was feeling, wondering if she still cared about him despite the long, cold year between them. But they were questions he could never ask, and as he struggled to think of something to fill the increasingly awkward silence, Sam said, "So, did you have fun with your week's leave, sir?"
He paused before he answered. A part of him wanted to tell her no, that he'd missed her, that he'd thought about her way too much and hated himself for his unprofessionalism. But looking at her tense, bright face, he decided that he couldn't. He didn't want to lay that on her, given the already ambiguous nature of their relationship, so he chose a half-lie instead, "Sure," he said, "fishing's always fun."
Sam smiled almost sadly. "I guess," she sighed, dropping her gaze to the table top.
He thought he saw disappointment in her eyes and couldn't help the pulse of pleasure it aroused; was she disappointed because he hadn't asked her along this time? It's not like she would have actually come, but maybe she wished he had asked anyway? He wanted to ask her, but saw that she was trying to hide her sudden melancholy and so added, with deliberate brightness, "The weather was great. I figured it would be my last chance before winter."
"Sounds nice," Sam replied, glancing up again. "Relaxing."
He nodded. "What about you?"
She rolled her eyes. "I repainted the living room. I hadn't touched it since I moved in."
"That was four years ago, Carter," Jack pointed out.
"I know," she agreed, smiling ruefully. "Well, it's not like I have a lot of time - and there's always something better to do."
"Not a big home improvement fan, huh?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder as the waitress returned with their drinks.
"I've never considered watching paint dry to be fun," she agreed.
Jack chuckled slightly, but shook his head. "Actually," he said, "I kinda like it. You at least feel like you've achieved something at the end of the day. It's satisfying."
Sam laughed at that. "Really? Well, if I'd known, I'd have asked you round to help out...." She trailed off then and her smile faded.
"Anytime," Jack told her quietly, knowing that she would never ask. It was one of those forbidden areas, too personal to be appropriate.
Fortunately the waitress chose that moment to cheerfully serve them their drinks, and after he'd paid her Jack raised his beer. "To the end of a hard year?" he suggested.
Sam smiled and clinked her own bottle against his. "I'll drink to that."
His lips had just closed around the neck of the bottle when something in the crowd, near the door of the bar, caught his eye. It was a round, bald head. His heart sank. "Oh crap," he said slowly lowering the bottle from his lips.
"What?" Carter asked, glancing over her shoulder briefly and then back at him. "What do you see?"
Jack ducked lower, gesturing for her to do the same. "Hammond just walked in!"
"What!" she hissed. "I don't believe it!"
"I know!" he hissed back. "I didn't think anyone would come up here...."
Carter's face was worried, anxious. "Has he seen us?"
"I don't think so," Jack replied, sitting up a little and peering over her shoulder. "No, he's too busy....he's with someone." Despite himself, he smiled a little. "The old dog!" he grinned. "He's with a woman."
"Really?" Carter was curious now, turning around to peer at the General and the attractive woman at his side. "Wow - who'd have thought?"
Jack grunted and returned his attention to his beer. "So I guess it's true what they say about bald men."
"What do they say?" Carter asked with a delicately raised eyebrow.
"That women find them irresistible," he told her, running a rueful hand through his short hair.
Carter smiled, the first real smile he'd seen in so long that his stomach actually did a back-flip at the sight. "Well, although Teal'c's pretty cute, sir," she said, eyes twinkling, "personally speaking I like men with hair." Her smile faded and she added, "On their heads, that is - on their backs...less so."
"Yeah," he grinned, "it's not so hot on women either...." She giggled, she actually giggled at that, and he felt a sudden flare of warmth - how long had it been since they'd joked like this? He couldn't even remember. But he was still wary, his eyes drifting once more to where Hammond was sitting close to the door. "We should get out of here," he decided. "If he sees us...."
"He'll just think we're two colleagues having a drink after work?" Carter suggested hopefully. "Which is...what we are. Right?"
He paused, giving her a serious look. "Are we? Is that what this is?"
Carter only held his gaze for a moment before looking away. "I'm talking about what the General would think," she answered evasively.
He was silent again, awkward once more. "Don't forget that he knows," he said quietly. "He's seen the tapes of the whole zay'tarc testing...thing."
She gave a humorless laugh. "Oh I haven't forgotten that for a moment, sir."
"No," he agreed softly. "Don't suppose you have."
Carter sighed. "So...it would look bad," she said, lifting her eyes to his. "If he saw us together it would look...compromising."
"He's done us a huge favor in not reassigning us," Jack reminded her. "If he was ever called on it his only defense would be the fact that he had no evidence of us ever behaving unprofessionally."
"But we haven't!" she protested with a flash of her stubborn streak. "We haven't done one damn unprofessional thing, and yet we can't even have one single *drink* together in the whole damn year, without...." She stopped herself, angry. "I'm sorry," she sighed, "it's just so...unfair."
"I know," he agreed, watching her sadly. "It sucks. I hate it - I hate this whole thing."
The expression in her eyes softened from anger to something much warmer. "Me too," she replied, watching him intently. "And I miss you."
She looked so beautiful in that moment, so much the woman he'd grown to care about, that he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to brush a finger over her hand. "You know nothing's changed, don't you?" he said, looking up at her from under his brow. "I mean...the way I feel hasn't changed."
Another brilliant smile touched her face, almost self-conscious. Definitely happy. "I'm glad," she replied, cautiously turning her hand over beneath his light touch and gently squeezing his fingers. "That makes me feel...better."
He smiled at her, sensing her hesitancy and sharing it. They'd spent so long stamping on these feelings that it felt strange, almost heady, to be giving them room to breathe at last. Not to mention dangerous. But he'd always lived for danger, thrived balancing on the edge, pushing himself and everyone around him to the limit and sometimes beyond. It excited him, set his heart racing and his blood pumping. And, God, how his blood was pumping now! Had the circumstances been different, had he not respected her as deeply as he cared for her, he would have leaned across the table, kissed her smiling lips and whispered, 'I love you.' But the words drifted unspoken in his mind, and he wondered if she saw them in his eyes. Her smile faltered, became more serious and more intent, but nothing was said - nothing could be said.
For a long time they sat there, lost in each other and oblivious to anything else, until suddenly Carter shook herself and frowned. "You know," she muttered, pulling her hand slowly from his, "if Hammond sees us like this, one of us is going to end up pushing papers at Wright-Patterson before the end of the week."
She was right of course. "Sorry," he mumbled, clearing his throat in an attempt to master his emotions once more, irritated at his lapse. And with Hammond right there!
"Don't be," she replied softly, her small smile incredibly intimate. "It was nice."
"Really?"
Sam nodded. "But...we really should go. Maybe if I leave first, and you wait a little longer...?"
Jack didn't know what worried him more, the idea of getting spotted by Hammond or the fact that their precious time together seemed to be drawing to a close. Desperate to hold onto the moment a little longer he said, "I don't think that'll work - it would look even worse if he saw us trying to sneak past him. Like we really *did* have something to hide!"
Carter frowned. "Well - what else can we do? We can't hide here all evening." He thought for a moment and then an idea crept in, bringing with it a wide smile. Carter's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Sir?" she asked dubiously.
"Ever made a break for it through the fire exit?" he asked.
Her eyes widened. "Ah...no."
Jack nodded towards a door behind him and to his left, "We'd make it, no problem," he assured her.
"That exit's alarmed," she told him, assessing the situation with all her usual assurance.
He shrugged. "Just adds to the fun." When he saw her frown he added, "You think we can't outrun the bar staff?"
Sam glanced over at the rotund figure serving behind the bar and smiled, "Well, he's not exactly a Jaffa," she conceded.
"Probably not even armed," Jack agreed.
"*Probably* not?"
He grinned again, adrenaline pumping. It had been years since he'd pulled a stunt like this.... "Come on, Carter," he cajoled her. "It'll be fun.... Unless," he added with a mock challenge, "you're chicken."
Her eyes narrowed. "Chicken, sir?"
"Or maybe you don't think you can keep up with me?"
Her blue eyes sparkled with laughter. "Oh, it's nothing like that, Colonel," she assured him. "I was just concerned that the excitement might be too much...for someone of your age."
"My age?" he asked, giving her a slow, deliberate smile. "Oh, believe me, Carter, the older I get the better I get...at handling excitement."
She flushed slightly, her lips curving towards another smile as she eyed the fire exit. "Well, I guess there's only one way to know for sure, sir. Right?"
"Right," he grinned, standing up and taking another quick look towards where Hammond sat ensconced by the door. He turned his eyes on her again, this time more seriously. "Okay?"
Sam nodded, also rising to her feet and draining her beer. "You certainly know how to show a girl a good time, sir," she smiled, heading for the fire exit.
"Wait until you see what I have planned for later."
She gave him a sideways glance. "Grand theft auto?"
"Sure, why not?"
***
The alarm started ringing the moment the Colonel slammed down the emergency bar across the fire exit and kicked open the door. He was out in a flash and she was close on his heels, running full tilt across the parking lot towards her car. But as the sounds of angry voices from behind them grew louder, he suddenly veered off to one side. "Come on!" he whooped, in obvious delight.
Half-laughing at the ridiculous situation, and half-cursing herself for agreeing to such a stupid stunt, Carter followed him as he raced around the back of the lot and vaulted a low wooden fence. Behind the building the mountain rose dark and solemn into the night sky, and within moments O'Neill had disappeared into the woods. Sam had no choice but to follow, running through the trees blind until she tripped on a root and stumbled, almost falling. "Damn it," she muttered, slowing her pace and glancing around. She couldn't see much of anything in the darkness, but she could hear the voices of people from the bar milling around in the parking lot.
Just then she felt a strong arm circle her waist from behind, and a hand loosely cover her mouth as she was pulled behind a tree and held close against a firm, warm body. Instinctively she struggled, until she heard the familiar voice. "Shh, they'll hear you."
Relaxing, Sam reached up and pulled his hand from her mouth. He lowered it only as far as her chest, still holding her tight, as if they were fleeing some mortal danger instead of an overweight barkeep. But she knew what he was doing, she'd seen his flush of desire in the bar and her body had answered it - if this was as close as they got to acting on the powerful impulse they shared, then so be it.
"Did you see what they looked like?" an irritated voice came from back in the parking lot.
"Nah," said another. "Couple a kids, probably. Sort of stupid stunt they'd pull."
Sam grinned at that, stifling a laugh. The Colonel's arms around her tightened and suddenly she felt his warm, slightly beer-scented breath tickle her ear, "No giggling."
It didn't help and a little chortle slipped out before he slid his hand over her mouth again. But she could feel him shaking, and knew that he was laughing too.
"You hear that?" one of the voices asked. "I thought I heard something."
"I didn't hear nothing," said the other. "And I'm freezing my ass off out here - I'm going back inside."
After another few moments, all was silent. But O'Neill didn't move, and neither did Sam. His hand over her mouth dropped again, this time coming to rest on her shoulder, his fingers touching her neck above her jacket. His other arm was firmly around her waist and she had to admit if felt...good. Hesitantly she leaned back a little, resting against him and smiling as his arm around her waist tightened momentarily. Sam closed her eyes, wishing the moment could last, but forcing herself to say, "I think we're safe, sir."
"Yeah, they gave up pretty quick."
"They'd never cut it as Jaffa."
He chuckled as his arms dropped from around her, and she sighed at the abrupt sense of loss. Sam turned, still close, and looked up at him. It was dark, the light from the bar didn't penetrate far into the woodlands, and his face was all angles and shadows, his dark eyes glittering. "So...," he said slowly, watching her. And then, with a small smile, "See? That was fun."
"It was crazy."
"Yeah - it was," he frowned, his eyes suddenly hooded as he glanced down. "I guess...I'm just feeling a little crazy tonight, Carter." She wasn't entirely sure what he meant until his fingers slid gently around hers, holding her hand. "There's a trail not far from here," he added more quietly, "it leads up to this great little spot - you can see the city and the stars...." He looked up again, still holding her hand. "Maybe we could...admire the view?"
Sam licked her lips, her heart racing. So much for the quiet little drink. But even though reason, and everything she'd tried to tell herself for the past twelve months, urged her to demurely refuse and flee back to her car, she didn't. Instead she said, "That sounds nice."
"Yeah," he replied with a flash of a smile, "it does." With that he turned, still keeping hold of her hand, and led her assuredly through the trees and up the steep hill. They walked in silence, afraid that if they spoke they'd have to actually acknowledge what they were doing. This way, in the darkness, they were merely shadows, their clasped hands were barely visible - the transgression was unseen, unacknowledged and so perhaps less...wrong.
It took about half an hour to reach the spot the Colonel had suggested, but Sam savored every moment of the walk. His hand holding hers was warm and strong, his thumb moving gently over her knuckles. And every so often they'd bump shoulders as they walked, the additional contact rippling through her in warm waves of desire. She looked up at him once and he turned to meet her gaze, but they said nothing, just smiled. And his was such a rare smile, untouched by sarcasm and full nothing but affection, that her stomach turned itself over in response. Her answering smile was equally powerful and for a moment they both faltered mid-stride, stumbling over the strength of their mutual feelings and teetering on the brink of acting on them. But the moment passed, and they resumed their silent walk with a sigh.
At last the slope flattened out and O'Neill led her out onto a small, flat outcrop of rock. One twisted old tree clung to it, and beyond that the whole city lay sprawled before them, mirroring the sparkle of the stars in the sky. Sam smiled as they stopped, their hands still clasped, and sighed. "Wow," she breathed, "it's beautiful."
"Isn't it?" he agreed. And then he tugged on her hand again, "Come on, let's sit down." He led her over to the gnarled tree and dropped to the ground, leaning his back up against the smooth bark. She followed suit, sitting close, their fastened hands coming to rest in his lap. "I come up here a lot to think," he said then, surprising her with the admission. He rarely talked about himself.
She nodded slowly. "Seems like a good place to be alone," she breathed, her gaze fixed on the sprawl of lights below.
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him nod too. "But it's much better with company," he said softly, squeezing her fingers. She just smiled but remained silent, shivering slightly in the fall chill. "Cold?" he asked then, turning to face her.
There was more light here, and she could see his face quite clearly. He looked...nervous, slightly out of his depth, but concerned for her. "A little," she replied, unable to take her eyes from his face. It seemed like an age since she'd really looked at him, at least without the ever-present sense of guilt and unease - was someone watching, was she behaving appropriately, were her feelings on show? But right there, in the cold night, for the first time in too long she felt free to just be herself with him. It was liberating and exhilarating. And not a little frightening.
He seemed equally entranced, his chest rising and falling with small, quick breaths. He licked his lips slightly, the movement drawing her gaze to his mouth as she felt the heat between them ratchet up a gear. "Here," he said at last, still watching her as he loosened his hold on her hand and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against him. Sam's heart missed a beat - the sensation was electric - and she felt like a High School kid on her first date. "Better?" he asked in a voice rather more husky than normal
His hand was running up and down her upper arm, as if warming her, and Sam had to catch her breath before she could speak. "Yeah," she whispered as she let her head come to rest gently against his shoulder. "Much better." God, they hadn't sat like this since she'd known him as 'Johna', but the sensations were still intensely familiar - she could hear the rapid beating of his heart beneath her cheek and feel his soft breath ruffling her hair - and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It felt wonderful, but at the same time achingly sad, because she knew that all they had was this moment and that all too soon it would be over.
"I'm glad you came tonight, Sam," he said then, interrupting her melancholy musing.
"Me too," she agreed. And then, more shyly she added, "Why did you ask me, sir?"
He was silent for a moment. "You know what day it is?"
"Apart from Monday, you mean?"
His arm tightened around her. "Yeah, apart from that."
She nodded against his chest. "I know," she said. "I wondered if you'd remember."
"How could I forget?" he asked. His voice was still low but there was a heat in it now. "It changed everything between us."
Sam looked up at that, and right into his eyes - they were mere inches apart. "Changed?" she asked. "I thought you said nothing had changed."
"My feelings haven't changed," he assured her seriously. "But...us...we've changed. Don't you think? I feel like we hardly speak anymore - like we're walking on egg-shells around each other." He frowned, shifting a little to look at her more clearly. "Am I making sense? I just feel so distant from you sometimes."
She nodded, feeling a hard lump tighten in her chest. "I know what you mean," she assured him quietly. "I feel it too. But what can we do? We have to be careful. We have to remain professional."
Jack sighed again, turning his gaze to stare out over the city. Sam lowered her head back to his shoulder, smiling as he pulled her closer. "Do you ever think," he said quietly, "that if we're going to have to spend our days hiding our feelings, trying to be professional around each other, that we...might as well...have something real to hide?"
Something real? Sam swallowed, but her stomach was suddenly alive with butterflies that fluttered rapidly up into her throat. When she spoke, her voice was breathless. "Something real?" she repeated.
"Something worth hiding," he clarified carefully. "Something to make all the hiding and repressing worth it."
She licked at lips gone suddenly dry, and her heart started thumping in nervous anticipation. In a small voice, she asked the next question. "Something like what?"
Jack moved, shifting around until she lifted her head and they were face to face again. His eyes were dark now, gleaming like liquid, and they were fixed on her, searching her face for permission. She smiled, suddenly heedless of the danger, lost entirely in the moment and deprived of all sense of discretion or rationality. For a moment he didn't move, just watched her with such a burning look in his eyes that she felt herself melting despite the night's cold air. Then slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his hand. "Something like this," he whispered, reaching out and touching her face with his fingertips.
His touch burned like cool fire against her skin as he traced the line of her jaw towards her lips, brushing them lightly - he set her alight, incinerating all reason with the intensity of the heat. She was lost, and raising her own hand to his face murmured, "Or like this?" She caught her breath as her fingers tenderly caressed the hard angles of his cheek, trembling with fear and longing as she slowly moved towards his temple, her eyes locked on his the whole time.
Jack's lips parted in a small gasp at the sensation, his own fingers starting to thread through her hair as his eyes darkened with heat. His tongue flickered over his lips again as slowly, very slowly, he leaned towards her and murmured, "Or like...this?" And with the last breath of the last word, his lips touched hers and the world stopped. "Sam...," he whispered, her name dancing on a breath between them.
You can't, you shouldn't, you mustn't - the words span through her mind like silent screams of bitter harridans. She knew they were there, but for once in her life she chose to ignore them. Yes this was inappropriate, yes it compromised many things - herself and her own career included - but in the final balance, was it really *wrong*? She'd seen death and hatred on a vast scale during her years at the SGC, and in comparison with the evil they fought on a daily basis how could this simple act of affection be wrong? Was it really so wrong to express her love for another human being? No. It wasn't.
She smiled, feeling a sense of ease wash over her as the guilt began to dissolve. They were still close, lingering on the verge of the kiss, their frosty breath entwining in the cold night. But she didn't rush, not now that she knew what she would do. Instead she let her fingers gently caress his temple, running through his short hair as she pulled back just enough to see his face. He looked like a man balanced on the edge, his dark eyes aflame with turmoil and desire. She smiled again, to reassure him, but his intent gaze didn't waiver for an instant. "Jack," she whispered into the tense silence, "if you don't kiss me right now I think I'll go insane."
She barely had time to see the flash of a grin on his lips before they closed softly over hers. He kissed her gently at first, his arm tightening around her while his hand cupped her cheek, his fingers toying with the hair behind her ear. After a moment they broke apart for breath, noses bumping gently as they came to rest with their foreheads touching. He whispered her name again, still stroking her cheek with one hand and holding her tight with the other. And then, as this lips brushed lightly against hers he murmured, "I love you, Sam."
She simply closed her eyes, too overwhelmed to move for a moment.
"Sam?" he asked doubtfully, pulling back slightly, obviously afraid he'd gone too far. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said...."
Her eyes flashed open. "Shh," she breathed, placing a finger over his lips and giving him a watery smile, "it's okay.... "
"It is?" he was still uncertain, exposed.
She nodded. "It's okay, because...I love you too."
It was his turn to stare, his eyes glittering brightly until he hurriedly looked away. When he spoke his voice was thick and cracked, "I'm sorry...it's just been... a long time since anyone ...."
"I know," she whispered, reaching out to touch him again, raising his eyes to hers once more. "For me too."
And then with a soft moan he pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest. He held her there, rocking her for a moment, before pulling back and reclaiming her lips for a kiss so intensely mind-blowing that Sam felt herself float free of her body for long, heady minutes. When they parted again they were both breathing heavily, but he was smiling, looking as stunned and euphoric as she felt. Her own mouth quirked into a grin, and from a grin into a giggle. He chuckled too and pulled her close again, stroking her hair as she laid her head against his chest. "Wow, Carter...."
"Yeah," she agreed. "That was...intense."
"And incredible."
"And...insane."
He nodded. "That too."
She sighed, closing her eyes. "So...."
"So," he agreed seriously. "I guess...now we have something worth hiding."
Sam nodded, knowing he was right and that come the morning their old barriers would have to be restored, their walls rebuilt and the pretence started anew. But that was tomorrow. And tomorrow was a long way away. "Jack," she said softly, relishing the taste of his name on her lips, "talk to me."
"Sure," he agreed, shifting slightly until his back was resting more comfortably against the tree. "What about?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Something - something about you. It's been so long since we talked."
He drew her closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "There's not much to tell," he confessed, "you probably know all the good stuff."
She smiled at that, snuggling closer. "There must be something I don't know."
After a considered pause he spoke again. "Did I ever tell you about the time Teal'c took me Jello-wrestling...?"
***
08.12 Tuesday
Jack slowed as he strode along the corridor towards his office, eyeing the scene before him. Daniel stood to the side of the corridor, talking to Carter. She was laughing at something and he had to fight hard to prevent a grin of his own from leaping out in response to her heart-stopping smile. It had only been - he glanced at his watch - about five hours since he'd last seen her, kissing her for the final time as they'd gone their separate ways in the empty parking lot outside the bar. And he was still struggling to regain his sense of equilibrium, especially now, when she was so vibrantly there in front of him. God, she looked amazing, like a genuine burst of sunshine amid the dreary dullness of the mountain complex.
But he had no choice, and if he was to protect the precious time they'd shared the previous night he couldn't let his feelings show for a moment. So he kept his face grave, hands stuffed into his pockets, as he approached them. "Hey kids," he said, wading into the conversation, "what's going on?"
They both turned, Daniel as open as always, Carter as unreadable as granite. Despite himself, his heart sank. But he knew she must be seeing the same impassivity on his face, and forced himself to remember the warmth that he knew lay beneath. "Ah, Sam was just telling me that," Daniel lowered his voice, glancing warily over his shoulder, "that she saw Hammond out - on a date!"
Sam smiled, but only at Daniel. "Shh," she admonished him. "I told you that in confidence."
With a glance at Jack, Daniel shrugged. "Oops."
"It's okay," Jack assured him dryly, "I won't tell anyone. I'm the soul of discretion."
Daniel didn't look convinced, but didn't have time to speak before Carter jumped in. "Well, excuse me, sir," she said, just managing to miss looking into his eyes, "I still have reports to write."
He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. "I'll need the mineral survey for D8W-532 by tomorrow," he reminded her.
"Yes, sir," came the cool, efficient reply before she hurried on down the corridor.
Jack deliberately didn't watch her leave, instead turning towards Daniel who fell in at his side as they headed back towards his office. After a moment's silence Daniel sighed, "So," he said, "how are things between you and your 'Car'. Seemed a little less...rough this morning."
Frowning, Jack felt a moment's unease as he glanced up to see Daniel looking at him shrewdly out of the corner of his eye. But he knew Daniel was his friend, and so rather than completely blank him on the question he merely said, "A man's relationship with his 'Car' is best kept...private."
It seemed that reading between the lines was one of Daniel's many linguistic talents, because he immediately nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "Plausible deniability."
Jack's eyebrows rose. "What?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
By this point they'd reached the door to the commissary and Daniel stopped. "I, ah, was going to go get a coffee," he said. "You want one?"
"Nah," Jack replied, glancing down the corridor towards his waiting office. "I need to do some stuff. Work on the brief for next week's mission, check my email...."
Daniel just nodded, the scent of coffee already half-distracting him. "Okay, well, see you later."
"Sure," Jack agreed, and before the commissary doors had swung shut behind Daniel, Jack was striding hurriedly back towards his office.
Shutting his office door carefully, Jack dropped into his chair and flicked at the mouse until his computer sprang back to life. Scanning the list of unread messages - damn, how was it possible to have over one hundred? - his heart did a little flip when he saw the one he was waiting for. Nervously he opened it and began to read.
From: maj.samantha.carter@....
To: col.jonathon.oneill@s...
Sent: September 4 2001 07:43
Subject: Re: Yesterday's meeting
----- Original Message -----
From: col.jonathon.oneill@s...
To: maj.samantha.carter@....
Sent: September 4 2001 07:11
Subject: Yesterday's meeting
> Morning, Carter
Morning, Sir
>Thank you for your time yesterday, Major. I found the meeting very
>useful and hope that our full and frank discussion will profit the
>team as a whole.
I agree. I think that team moral can only benefit from ensuring open
lines of communication within the command structure, and that
yesterday's meeting went a long way to removing some of the blockages
that had previously been present.
>In fact, I was hoping that we could arrange a further meeting in the
>near future, at a time and date of our mutual convenience.
That sounds like a great idea, sir. In fact, may I suggest a series
of weekly meetings along the same lines, perhaps progressing to bi-
weekly meetings at some point in the future?
>Perhaps we can discuss this later today? My office - 17:00?
That would be fine, sir. See you then.
Carter
The grin that spread across Jack's face as he read her reply to his tentative message was so wide it almost hurt. Weekly meetings? Bi- weekly meeting? Yes! He'd been afraid she'd want to lock the whole damn thing away again, batten down the hatches and ride it out. But no, it seemed that she was just as keen as himself to take hold of what they had and to nurture it slowly, in the secret parts of their hearts and lives. At work nothing would change. If anything they'd have to be more discrete, stamp out the flirting, do their best to ignore what they meant to each other - hell, even ignore each other completely if that's what it took. But he knew for sure that it would be a hell of a lot easier to douse his feelings for her in public if he knew that, for just a few precious hours a week, he could show her exactly what she meant to him and bask in the warmth of her affection in return.
Still grinning, he hit 'New Message'.
From: col.jonathon.oneill@s...
To: maj.samantha.carter@....
Sent: September 4 2001 08:37
Subject: Our next meeting
Carter,
How are you fixed for later today?
O'Neill
~The End~
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and that it cheered one or two people up! Feedback is always welcome at reevesally@hotmail.com
Story Notes: Email: reevesally@hotmail.com
Spoilers: References to the nature of Sam and Jack's relationship in season five, and one reference to "Between the Fires".
Archive: SJA and Heliopolis. Anyone else, please just ask so I can find you!
Notes: This one's for everyone who's feeling blue about the lack of 'ship in season five. Someone suggested that I write a 'feel good' tag for '2001', but since I haven't seen it yet I thought I'd try and write a general season five 'feel good' story instead. This is what I came up with in a couple of days! I hope you enjoy it!
Thanks to Erika and Lynn for their comments and encouragement.
Spoilers: References to the nature of Sam and Jack's relationship in season five, and one reference to "Between the Fires".
Archive: SJA and Heliopolis. Anyone else, please just ask so I can find you!
Notes: This one's for everyone who's feeling blue about the lack of 'ship in season five. Someone suggested that I write a 'feel good' tag for '2001', but since I haven't seen it yet I thought I'd try and write a general season five 'feel good' story instead. This is what I came up with in a couple of days! I hope you enjoy it!
Thanks to Erika and Lynn for their comments and encouragement.
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 ]