Jack left her browsing the sale rack in Old Navy with a muttered comment about wanting to check and see if the latest edition of Sports Illustrated was at the bookstore. Sam had given him a distracted smile and a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll meet you at Starbucks," she'd told him.
Hands jammed in the pockets of his ski jacket, Jack doggedly made his way through the crowded store and finally out into the corridor of the mall. Jingle Bell Rock blared from the overhead speakers, mixing in with the noise of what had to be at least half the population of Colorado Springs, all jammed together at The Citadel, doing their Christmas shopping. He knew Sam had been surprised when he had casually told her he'd join her in her mall outing. It was no secret he disliked going to the mall and even the lure of a few rounds of Resident Evil in the arcade normally wouldn't get him near the place on the Saturday before Christmas. But he was a man...okay, he thought wryly, a teenager with a mission.
Dodging a tandem stroller, Jack walked past the bookstore and straight to his destination, one of the many generic jewelry stores found at malls all across America. The store was moderately crowded, but Jack eased his way through the people bunched around the display cases and went straight to the register. There were several people in line ahead of him, so he resigned himself to having to wait, hoping that it wouldn't take too long. Sam would have to walk right past the jewelry store to get to Starbucks.
What seemed like an eternity later, the dark haired clerk finally finished ringing up the customer ahead of him. She smiled warmly at him when he appeared at the counter. "Here to make a payment?"
"Yeah," he smiled at her. Laurie had helped him pick out his gift for Sam months earlier, when Christmas was generally the least of anyone's worries. She had gently teased him about being such an early shopper, remarking that his girlfriend was certainly a lucky one. He had accepted her teasing good-naturedly, slowly getting used to being treated with that odd mixture of condescension and amusement adults reserve for teenagers.
Laurie opened up a notebook kept at the counter and looked under the 'O' tab. "This is your last payment," she remarked, looking up at him. "Do you want to take it with you?"
"Um...yeah," he finally muttered. Shit, he hadn't considered the possible ramifications of having Sam with him when he'd decided to tag along with her and pick up the ring. Thank goodness the ring box would be small; he could tuck it in the inside pocket of his jacket.
"Okay, let me just go get it."
Laurie disappeared into the backroom of the store and Jack leaned against the counter and looked out at the mall. Last Christmas he'd still been adjusting to his new body and status in life, he hadn't had time to get maudlin and morose over the holiday. And this year, well, this year he had Sam. She had been his post-Christmas miracle, when she had shown up in his homeroom class that cold day in January. The last year hadn't been easy, for either of them. Oh sure, some things were easy. School, for one thing. And with Sam as his constant companion, he felt less isolated. Her gentle love and encouragement had helped him come to a resigned acceptance of his new life.
He knew she felt the same way, because even though she had chosen to be cloned, he really didn't think that at the time that she had understood it emotionally. So when the full implications of being seventeen had hit the thirty-something Samantha Carter and she'd fallen apart, he had been there to help her through it. She deserved something special, hence the reason he was waiting in a jewelry store, in a crowded mall, the Saturday before Christmas.
"Here you go, Jack," Laurie chirped behind him.
Jack turned around and found Laurie holding the open ring box, the cleverly placed lights in the showroom making the ring sparkle like it contained ten carats worth of diamonds instead of less than one quarter of a carat of the precious gems. The ring was simple, yet elegant--ten tiny round diamonds, channel set, in a fourteen-carat gold band. The first time he had seen it, it had reminded him immediately of Sam. It had been twice what he had anticipated spending, but once he'd seen it, he knew nothing else would do. So, he'd worked their budget down to the last penny and had managed to save enough extra each month to make the payments.
"It's a beautiful promise ring. Your girlfriend is one lucky gal." Laurie commented, for not the first time, as she rang in the amount of the last payment.
Jack pulled out his wallet and took out the necessary bills. "No," he corrected her with a grin. "I'm the lucky one." The whole concept of a 'promise' ring had been foreign to him, until Laurie had explained it. And he found he kind of liked the idea of a visible sign of their commitment to each other. Not that there had ever been any doubt on either of their parts, but it might make other guys think twice before they tried to hit on her.
Laurie laughed, taking his money and giving him the receipt. She picked up the box and closed it, reaching under the counter for a bag.
"No, that's okay," he told her, reaching for the ring box. "I'll just put it in my pocket."
"Okay," she smiled, handing him the black velvet box. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," he replied, tucking the precious gift inside his jacket, once more heading out into the holiday crowds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam watched him work his way through the crowded store, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally merged with the rest of the shoppers outside of the store. She hadn't expected him to come with her to the mall; in fact, she'd been counting on him not wanting to come with her. But now, she had at least fifteen minutes, if not twenty, to do what she had actually come to do.
All the way to the mall in the car, she'd been trying to think of a way to 'lose' him for enough time to pick up his Christmas present. And then she hadn't known what she'd do once she had it, until she remembered that she'd heard Jessica complaining during chemistry lab that she had to work on Saturday, hence her detour into Old Navy.
Sam found her friend folding sweaters in the men's section. "Hey Jessica, can you do me a favor?"
"Sure, Sam," the other girl replied, carefully rearranging the pile of mauled sweaters.
"Can I have one of the big shopping bags?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Jessica popped her gum and Sam followed, practically on her heels, as the other girl ambled over to the registers. Sam forced herself to wait patiently while Jessica rummaged behind the counter. "Here," she handed her a large, handled shopping bag with the bright blue store logo on it. "This okay?"
"Perfect," Sam replied, snatching the sack out of Jessica's hands. "I owe you," she told her.
"Just help me pass the chemistry final and we'll be even!"
Sam gave Jessica a backward wave as she headed out the door. Once out in the mall proper, Sam hurried through the crowd, detouring around the bookstore and a harried group of mall walkers before she finally reached the leather specialty store. The store was crowded, but fortunately there was no one at the register.
"Hey, Mr. Nicholson," Sam greeted the store's owner.
"Samantha," he smiled at her. "I've got it all ready for you. I'll just be a minute."
Sam nodded and waited by the counter while he disappeared into the backroom. She smiled at his daughter, Sally, who waved from the corner of the store where she was helping an older woman trying on a real classy looking full length black leather coat. Sam had a brief moment of longing for her leather coat. She sighed, one day she'd have a coat like that again...one day when she was finished with all her schooling and had a job and was making money.
"Here you go." Mr. Nicholson laid the bomber jacket reverently on the counter. "Finest quality lamb leather," he murmured, stroking the soft dark brown leather. "Excellent choice, young lady. This jacket will last a lifetime and never go out of style."
Sam dug into her jeans pocket for the fifty dollars she'd stuffed in there earlier, handing the rumpled bills to the older man. "That's what I'm counting on, Mr. Nicholson, that's what I'm counting on."
She watched while he rang up the sale and gave her the receipt. It had been a lot of money to spend on something that was essentially a luxury item. But she had seen the longing looks Jack had given anyone who they happened to pass wearing the same type of jacket and had instinctively known that he missed his old one. Or rather the one the original Jack O'Neill still owned and presumably wore. It had taken some creative budgeting, but over the last four months she had managed to scrape together enough money to make the monthly lay-away payments.
"Oh, wait," she said, when Mr. Nicholson got out a box and started lining it with tissue paper. "Can you wrap it in paper and put it in this bag?" She gave him the Old Navy bag. "You see, Jack is with me and if he sees a bag from this store...."
Mr. Nicholson chuckled and took the bag from her. "I will help you keep your Christmas surprise, Samantha."
"Thanks," she smiled. "Merry Christmas!"
Sam hurried out of the store, waving at Sally again and checking her watch. Almost thirty minutes had passed; she hoped Jack hadn't gone back to Old Navy to look for her. Moving as fast as she could through the maze of shoppers, she rounded the last corner before Starbucks and careened right into Jack.
"Hey," he said, steadying her with a firm grip on her shoulders.
"Sorry," she gasped. "Have you been waiting long?"
"No," he grinned, "just got here myself. Here," he reached for her bag, "let me carry that for you."
"No!" she gripped the handles with both hands. He looked mildly surprised. "I mean, no, thank you. It's not that heavy."
"Okay," he replied good-naturedly, linking his arm with one of hers and escorting her into Starbucks. "So, the usual?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack plugged in the string of lights and stood back to admire the tree. It wasn't much, just a small three-footer, but it fit perfectly in the apartment. Sam had protested that it was an unnecessary expense, but he'd easily overcome her resistance. They'd reached a compromise on decorating-they'd bought the lights on sale and managed to find enough decorations at several of the local thrift stores to make the tree look festive.
Jack checked his watch, it was almost 1800. He looked out the front window; the streetlights glowed brightly, illuminating the softly falling snow. The fat, white flakes were sticking to the trees and ground, the streets and sidewalks glistening with moisture. Sam should be home soon...he wasn't worried, really. Sam was a good driver, but their car wasn't the most reliable. He'd have to speak with Captain McDermott the next time she came over for a visit.
It still rankled that the Air Force had assigned a quasi-social worker to oversee his affairs. McDermott was a nice enough woman with kids his age, so she was at least somewhat in touch with the need of high school students. He should have said something to her when she'd stopped by earlier in the week. But she hadn't been scheduled to see them until after the first of the year, so when he'd opened the door and found her standing on their doorstep, he'd been annoyed. But that had quickly faded when she wished him a Merry Christmas and thrust a colorful Santa Claus shaped plastic tray at him that was filled with cookies. He had been surprised and unexpectedly touched by her gift.
She had also handed him an envelope, which he had known immediately wasn't from her. He knew the identity of the sender at once by the distinctive way his name was scrawled on the white envelope. He still got an uncomfortable jolt in his stomach whenever his thoughts strayed to the older O'Neill. Which-thankfully-was less and less often. He'd pulled himself together and thanked McDermott for the cookies. She hadn't seemed inclined to linger, so he'd wished her Merry Christmas as well, closing the door quickly against the cold winter air.
Setting the cookies down in the kitchen, he found himself turning the envelope over and over in his hands, not sure why he felt so reluctant to open it. But, he'd finally given in, pulling out his pocketknife and slitting the top of the envelope. The card itself was a rather bland, generic holiday card and on the inside there were two crisp one hundred-dollar bills and two signatures-The General and Sam Carter. Jack wondered briefly if it had been the Colonel's idea to send the card, but just as quickly decided it didn't matter. It was a welcome gesture and with the extra money, he and Sam could go out to dinner on Christmas Day if they wanted or they could order dinner from the deli at the local grocery store on Christmas Eve, like Sam wanted.
Which they had proceeded to do and Sam had left over an hour ago to pick it up at the store, so she should be home by now. Jack peered out the window again and was rewarded when a familiar looking car turned onto the street and then into the drive for their building. Grabbing his jacket, he rushed out the door and down the stairs to help her. The snow had started to come down heavier as he skidded to a stop by the car.
"Hey." Sam smiled at him as she peered around the open trunk.
"I was starting to get worried."
"I had to wait for a fresh batch of dressing to finish cooking." She handed him a large box filled with covered take out dishes. "Careful, it's heavy."
"Whoa! I guess." He shifted the box in his arms while Sam took out two large bags out of the trunk. "How much food did you order, Carter?"
Her smile turned into a frown and she slammed the trunk shut. "Don't call me that."
"Sorry," he said.
"I'm not her," she added sharply, walking past him and up to the door of the complex.
"I know," he replied evenly, following her. "I just forget sometimes."
"Well, don't," she retorted, tugging on the door and holding it open for him.
She brushed past him and he trudged up the stairs after her, she was halfway down the hall when he reached the top of the stairs and he frowned as she disappeared through the door to their apartment. Shit, he thought tiredly when he reached their door, balancing the box between his hip and the wall, finally getting it open.
The lights on the tree twinkled merrily, the room looked cozy and inviting-if he could ignore the sounds of cupboard doors slamming and occasional swear word emanating from the kitchen. Jack sighed and went into the kitchen, setting the box down on the table. He took off his jacket and watched warily as Sam flung open cupboard doors, muttering to herself.
"Hey," he said softly. "What's the matter?"
"I can't find the gravy boat. What happened to that gravy boat we found at the Goodwill?"
He walked over to her and reached into one of the open cupboards. "Here," he said, pulling out the blue crockery gravy boat she had insisted that they buy when they'd been looking for Christmas ornaments and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she muttered, her voice husky.
He knew the sound of her tears when he heard them. "Sam," he said gently, resting his hands on her shoulders. "What's the matter?" he asked again.
"I guess..." she sniffed and brushed at her eyes. He moved closer, so that his chest was pressing against her back. "I guess it just hit me hard tonight, while I was at the store, that it's Christmas. And that I won't see my Dad," she gulped back a sob, setting the gravy boat on the counter. "That I'm buying Christmas dinner at Safeway and putting gravy in a gravy boat we bought for fifty cents...and that I'm seventeen fricking years old!"
He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. "You're not alone in this, you know."
She went on like she hadn't heard him. "Sometimes I really wonder if she actually thought about what it would be like, when she had this grand idea and contacted Thor. I must've been out of my mind." Her tirade didn't bother him too much; at least he didn't take it personally. He'd gone through much the same thing and had wondered when it would hit her. But it was different for her-because she wasn't alone.
"Sam," he murmured in her ear, bringing his hands back up to her shoulders and urging her to turn around. She wouldn't look at him, so he tilted her chin up with one finger. Her eyes were pink, a slight trace of tears on her lashes. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad that for once she," he emphasized it slightly, "didn't stop to think about what she was doing."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching up and delicately caressing his cheek. "It must've been unbearable."
He shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. "You do what you've got to do-and you survive." Jack pulled her into his embrace and she wrapped her slender arms around him. He hated seeing her upset like this, especially on their first Christmas together. Pulling back slightly, he looked down at her. "Are you hungry?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not really."
Jack took hold of her hand, pulling her toward the living room. "Come with me."
"What about all the food?"
"It'll keep." He tugged on her hand again. "Come on, there's something I want to give you."
Some of the sadness lifted out of her eyes and she smiled. "I thought we weren't going to exchange gifts until tomorrow?"
"Yeah, well, I've changed my mind." He released her hand once they reached the living room and she sat down on the sofa while he reached under the tree and pulled out the gaily-wrapped box he'd placed there earlier.
"Here," he said, sitting down next to her. "Merry Christmas."
Sam took the gift from him and he sat back, acting as casual as he could even though his heart was racing, and watched her open the package. She carefully took the ribbon off, setting aside, and then just as carefully slit the tape with one of her nails and unwrapped the paper from around the box, folding it and setting it next to the ribbon. She looked at him then and smiled and he sat up a little straighter when she lifted the lid off the box. It didn't take her long to find the smaller ring box buried amidst the tissue paper in the larger box. And this time, when she looked at him, her eyes were filled with shy wonder.
"Jack," she said, her thumb brushing against the black velvet lid. And this time when he heard her voice trembling, he knew it wasn't from tears.
He smiled encouragingly at her. "Go ahead," he prodded gently; anxiously waiting and watching as she slowly opened the box.
"Oh, Jack...." She flashed him a brilliant smile. "It's beautiful." She lifted the ring out of the box and looked at it, the lights from the tree glinting off the tiny gems and the gold of the ring.
"Here," he said gruffly, gently taking the ring from her. "Give me your hand."
She seemed to waver, both hands fluttering briefly in front of her. Jack told hold of her left hand, deciding for her, and slid the ring onto her ring finger. He felt a rush of relief when it fit perfectly-and it looked perfect on her finger. He let go of her hand and she held it up, admiring the ring.
"It's a promise ring."
"I know," she said softly. "It's perfect."
"If you don't like it, we can take it back and get another one."
"No," she said emphatically. "It's perfect."
"If you don't want to wear it on your left hand, you don't have to. I mean, if you don't like that symbolism."
"That symbolism is just perfect." She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. "I was made just for you."
When she sat back, Jack clasped her left hand, his fingers rubbing idly on the ring. "You didn't seem to think that was such a good thing earlier," he reminded her.
"That was earlier." She looked at him curiously. "You can't tell me you don't feel the same way occasionally?"
Still holding her hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her fingers over the ring. "Not so much anymore."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam walked carefully through the living room; the twinkling lights from the tree providing enough illumination for her to straighten things up. They'd left the drapes partially open and she paused for a moment, looking out on the still night. Snow continued to fall steadily turning their little corner of the world into a winter wonderland. Holding up her left hand, Sam looked at the ring again, its presence still an unfamiliar sensation on her usually ring-less hand. She leaned against the cool glass, restlessly turning the ring round and round on her finger.
Jack had really surprised her with the ring. The Major-it was still hard to think of her as a Colonel-had taken a huge risk when she had let Thor make the clone...make her. She had been a lot more confident than the unsure, apprehensive girl who had been escorted into that Colorado Springs classroom almost twelve months ago. And while she had no doubts that she was right where she should be-by his side-she hadn't been so sure he would feel the same way. But thank god, he had, because there was only one person for whom she would go through all the hell of high school and college for-again.
Wandering away from the window, she picked up the leather jacket where it lay across the back of the sofa. Burying her face in the soft leather, she took a deep breath. It still smelled new. She wondered idly how long it would take before it started to smell like him. Jack had been so cute after dinner, when she'd decided to give him his present early and dragged the box out of its hiding place in her bedroom closet. He'd been bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and when she finally gave it to him, he'd ripped the paper off in his enthusiasm.
The surprise, wonder and then pure joy that filled his face when he'd folded back the tissue paper and lifted the jacket out had made all the scrimping and saving worth it. He'd put it on immediately and her breath had caught at the transformation that occurred. His shoulders had straightened, his whole posture turning into one of casual authority and his smile...she shivered in remembrance. His smile had turned lazy and seductive and she caught a glimpse of the man he reminded her of-the man he was to become.
Draping the jacket around her shoulders, Sam went back to the window. Some condensation had formed on the window and on an impulse she traced a heart and then printed SC+JO in it.
A set of lanky arms suddenly wrapped around her and she felt his warm breath against her ear. "Whatcha' doing?" he asked.
Feeling flustered and mildly embarrassed at being found doing something so juvenile, she quickly wiped her fingers over the initials. "Nothing."
He chuckled. "Acting your age?"
She didn't take offense to his teasing question. It was Christmas Eve; they'd had a wonderful evening-even if it had gotten off to a rocky start. They were officially 'promised' and the seventeen-year-old part of her couldn't wait for school to start again in the New Year so she could show off her ring.
Resting her hands on his, she leaned back into his embrace. "Is that so bad?" she asked, half-jokingly.
"No," he agreed. Jack turned her in his arms then, grasping the edges of the jacket. The colored lights from the tree twinkled and in the soft glow she could see he was suddenly serious. "You don't regret it, do you?"
"No," she murmured. "We have something they'll never have, a whole lifetime together."
"Think you can stand me for the next sixty or seventy years?"
Her smile turned soft and tender. She stretched up and kissed him. "Yeahsureyoubetcha'."
He chuckled and his arms wrapped around her again, his cheek resting against her hair. "It's a good life, isn't it, Sam?"
"It's a wonderful life."
THE END
Story Notes: Email: mscorkill@earthlink.net
Category: mini!otp-Sam & Jack
Content Warning: None
Season/Sequel info: Post-Season Seven
Spoilers: Fragile Balance
Archive: Heliopolis, SJHW, SJD
Feedback: Cheerfully accepted.
Author's notes: For j_guda and the LJ mini!otp ficathon.
Copyright © M. Susan Corkill, December 2004.
mscorkill@earthlink.net
Category: mini!otp-Sam & Jack
Content Warning: None
Season/Sequel info: Post-Season Seven
Spoilers: Fragile Balance
Archive: Heliopolis, SJHW, SJD
Feedback: Cheerfully accepted.
Author's notes: For j_guda and the LJ mini!otp ficathon.
Copyright © M. Susan Corkill, December 2004.
mscorkill@earthlink.net
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 ]