I dump the groceries on the counter with a sigh, and take a moment to stretch my back, wondering not for the first time how I'd managed to find myself in these circumstances. Shaking my head I nevertheless quickly set about packing all the food and other supplies away, hoping that the Colonel will at least attempt to eat some of the more healthy food options I bought
for him. I don't care what he says, he's not getting pizza and beer when he's supposed to be convalescing. No way, not when I'm charge of him. God...I'm in charge of him...how the hell did that happen? Oh yeah, Daniel and Teal'c off-world and Janet foaming at the mouth with the effort of trying to contain and entertain the Colonel in the infirmary, and the General somehow
coming to the conclusion that I could look after the Colonel myself. So I was ushered out of the General's office, and in ten minutes I was driving a fidgeting Colonel back to his place, still in awe at the swift turn of events that had stolen my few days of downtime.
When we got here and I helped a sore and limping Colonel into his house he grinned and waved me away, quickly informing me that I could go, and that he'd see me when I came to pick him up to visit the infirmary in two days. Well, unwanted though this babysitting task is there is no way I'm shirking it, and no way I'm letting him get away with multiple indiscretions when he's supposed to be in my care!
He let me fuss over him for a short while, then when I went to prepare some sort of meal all I found in the kitchen was left over pizza and bags of nachos. How does this man stay at all healthy on the food he eats? His face lit up when he realised he had leftover pizza, but I quickly disposed of it and informed him I was going shopping. He instantly perked up, but it soon turned out to be merely because I'd be leaving him alone for a while. So he pressed fifty dollars into my hand and spread himself carefully over the couch, telling me he'd relax until I got back, and that I could take as long as I wanted. I must have stood mulling over his words for a few minutes, but eventually I realised I had no choice and left. When I returned I was sure I'd find him indulging in something currently forbidden, but I was quite pleased when I heard the obvious sounds of splashing water coming from the vicinity of his bedroom. Good. A bath is good. He'll be clean and relaxed, and hopefully easier to deal with this evening.
Splash!
I grin and shake my head at the amount of noise he's making, and I doubt whether he's actually heard me come in at all. I'm just about to set some potatoes boiling when the splashing gets rather frantic, accompanied by some bizarre sounds which he must be emitting. I listen confused for a few moments, then when the noises and splashing get louder I start to worry.
"Colonel?" I yell, but he doesn't respond.
"Colonel, are you okay in there?" I ask again, and the noises cease. Still I receive no reply and when I turn back to my food preparation the noises start again, a tremendous amount of splashing accompanied by what I can only call sounds of distress make me bolt across the house and into his bedroom before I have a chance to think about what I'm doing. I pause in his
bedroom as it's the first time I've ever seen it, but I drag my eyes away to face the slightly ajar bathroom door, and I'm perturbed to see the floor inside is a little damp. A cacophony of sounds come from within and steeling myself I push open the door and step in, words faltering on my lips.
"Colonel are you...okay?..."
The sounds stop instantly, with only the soft lap of sloshing water breaking the silence as we stare at each other, expressions of horror frozen on our faces. Well, at least he's not in distress, not physically anyway I think as I move my hands to my hips and glare at him for frightening me so.
His ensuite bathroom is very plain and practical, most of the room taken up with a rather large bath with the end against the far wall. The Colonel is reclining, naked of course, in the bath but luckily most of his body is completely covered by a huge amount of foam, complete to the large stack of bubbles sitting proudly atop his messy hair, no doubt put there by himself. His knees poke out from a mass of sculpted bubbles in the centre of the bath, and in front of his chest, his very nice chest I might add, there is a space carved through the bubbles, leaving a small pool of water, in and above which is currently the focus of both our attentions. The Colonel's hands are held frozen above the water, a plastic model boat gripped in each one, pointing downwards. The boat in his left hand appears to be some sort of detailed Naval destroyer, but the one in his right is more a caricature of a small seagoing fishing boat, with a figure of what looks suspiciously like Popeye standing in the prow, glaring down at the enemy. The enemy happens to be a squat and standard yellow rubber ducky, that bobs disconsolately in the small pool in front of him, no doubt relieved at the escape from the frontal assault my entrance prompted. The Colonel's eyes dart up to mine as I fight to contain a smile, and he carefully places the boats back on the water and sweeps them and the ducky into the mass of foam to his left, effectively hiding them from view.
"This isn't what it looks like Carter." He says carefully, his face sheepish, and I fight my grin as I lean casually against the door frame.
"It isn't?" I ask, and he grins a little, embarrassment giving way to amusement.
"I was going over some team defence strategies for SG-1," he tells me, eyes shining, daring me to defy him, and I grin widely.
"Oh really? And who do the boats and duck represent?"
Grinning like a kid he pulls the toys out of the foam and shows each one to me proudly.
"The destroyer is me of course, and I think Daniel is best represented by the Popeye boat."
Popeye. I was right. Somehow that fact doesn't cheer me at all. I nod at the water at the duck's beak poking from the white clouds of bubbles.
"And the duck?" I ask, and he plucks it from the water and smiles.
"Well...the duck is obviously Teal'c," he replies, turning it this way and that and scrutinising its cheery yellow eyes and bill.
"Obviously," I say, rolling my eyes, and then I find my interest suddenly piqued.
"So where am I?" I ask, tilting my head, hoping to make him flustered for leaving me out. His face turns to one of being caught out, then an idea pops into his head and he starts to scrabble about in the bath, looking for something that must have sunk.
"Uh...you're about here somewhere, I swear."
Eventually his fingers locate his prize and he pulls something from the water and holds it out for me, though as its obscured by bubbles that cling to it, all I can make out is a female head. He looks so triumphant as he gestures for me to take it that I have to comply, and only when it's in my hand do I realise it's a Star Wars figure. I blow the foam away and when he
sees which figure is revealed his face falls, and he glances around for the one he obviously meant to hand me, and I feel a blush rise but instead fight it and stare into his now timid eyes.
"This...is me?" I ask, dangling the Princess Leia complete with gold bikini slave outfit from my fingers, and he grins, a slight flush touching his own cheeks.
"I swear I meant to give you the one where she's got a big gun and is kicking ass...I uh...forgot I had that one."
"Sure you did.." I toss the figure back into the bath at his feet, and he grins cheekily, looking up at me from under that pile of bubbles on his head. I hate to admit it, but the grumpy old fool actually looks rather adorable right now in this vulnerable position. Enough thinking about that, change the topic Sam.
"So, all the noise you were making?" I ask, and he flinches briefly, obviously hoping I was going to overlook that.
"Uh...well...Daniel and I were ambushing Teal'c, and things got a bit...rough. You know Teal'c". He answers, holding a dripping 'Teal'c' in the air for me to inspect, and I shake my head in disbelief.h adds, then his face contorts and he wriggles, and after a few seconds he reaches in front of himself and very carefully pulls out another princess Leia figure, this one holding a large gun that obviously has no place in the world of Star Wars figures. We both flush briefly at where he pulled that figure from, but he shakes any awkwardness off fast and grins.
"Yeah you're always doing that." He says with twinkling eyes and this time I go bright red. He just watches me for a while, obviously enjoying my discomfort, then he gives a brief sigh and lets me off the hook.
"So what goodies didya buy me? Pizza and beer? Chinese food?" He asks, pouting like a small child.
"No sir. Healthy food only. Doctor's orders."
"Ah damn Napoleonic..."
"I'll start cooking now sir. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. If you can drag yourself away from your toys by then." He opens his mouth to protest his innocence again, but all this movement is too much for the bubbles on his head, and the stack tilts, then finally topples and falls forward into the bath, leaving a trail down his nose. Judging by the sheepish look on his face he had completely forgotten he was wearing that impromptu hat.
"Uh..." He starts, face a little red, and I don't even want to hear his attempt at an excuse this time so I leave and make my way back to the kitchen, my thoughts all full of his broad chest, muscular shoulders, and strong bare arms instead of pasta and chicken.
The next half hour passes in relative silence, and it seems the Colonel has got down to the more serious business of getting clean rather than playing with his extensive collection of bath toys. Who would have thought that big tough Colonel O'Neill loved bubble baths? And coconut scented bubble baths at that? I recognise that scent from when he's been just showered on base, he must have a matching shower gel. At least I've had peace to cook.
"Carter!"
Or at least I *had* some peace to cook. I keep on stirring, wondering if he' s just teasing, but his voice sounds again, a little higher pitched this time, and with an edge of worry. So I put down my spoon and head to the bathroom, keeping my eyes closed until I'm through his bedroom. I swing the door open expecting to find him fully dressed, but he's still sitting in the bath which looks decidedly colder by now, and the bubbles have died down. So much so that I have to keep my eyes fixed firmly on his lest they wander elsewhere and show me something I really don't want to see. The Colonel is sitting there dejectedly, looking annoyed.
"Sir? What's the matter?" I ask, and he grimaces before meeting my eyes. Something darts there, and if I didn't know any better I'd say it was shame, not something I've ever seen there before.
"I can't get out," he tells me softly, and his head drops. If he expected me to laugh he's mistaken, as I can see by the trembling of his hands that rest on the sides of the bath that he's genuinely tried and failed. I should have guessed something like this would happen, he's injured and very tired, and getting out of the bath requires strength he just doesn't have at the moment. I crouch down beside him and consider our options, and to be honest there aren't many.
"We'll have to drain the water first," I tell him, reaching for the plug chain, but he grabs my fingers and I smile reassuringly.
"Don't worry sir, I've leave until the water's gone." I hand him a large fluffy bath towel and pop the plug, then step outside. I stand and listen to the water drain and for the first time allow myself a look around his bedroom.
The room is uncluttered, and lots of bare wood and muted warm colours make the room very appealing, and I find myself surprised. I know the rest of the Colonel's house is gorgeous, but if there was anywhere I thought he'd let himself go it'd be in here, well apparently not. The carpet is a neutral short grey but large soft rugs cover it, in red and brown tones. The walls
are a dusky colour, and impressionist style paintings are hung here and there, drawing the eye. A writing bureau sits in one corner, covered in haphazard piles of paper and a bundle of twisted clothes lie at the foot of the bed, but that's the only concession to untidiness present. The bed itself is huge and tall, with large soft pillows and a warm red and fawn throw that just begs to be stroked. This man is full of surprises, and I find my throat suddenly dry at how comfortable I feel in here.
"Sam?" Comes a quiet voice, and I steel myself and go back into his bathroom.
The water is gone now and he sits forlornly in the centre of the white tub, the towel around his waist, tucked underneath himself with great effort. His hair is towelled dry and sticking up in damp tufts, and his hands brace against the sides. I don't meet his eyes as I move in to help him, and after a few brief moments of manoeuvring him and supporting his weight on my
shoulder he finally steps out of the bath, his whole body trembling against mine. I knew he had a harder fall than he would admit to me. Why does he insist on maintaining that macho image? Finally we make our way to the bedroom where I dump him on the bed and he finally relaxes and sighs.
"Thank you," he intones, and I smile at him, showing him it's no big deal. He simply snorts and looks away.
"Betcha didn't include hefting a weak, old man out of the bath in your evenings itinerary," he grumbles, and I can't help but laugh.
"You're not that weak sir," I tell him cheekily, and he snorts again, finally turning to look at me.
"Yeah but I am old huh? Well don't worry, I won't keep you. Grampa here can look after himself." With that he stands up, then quickly sits down again, his head obviously spinning.
"It's the hot water sir, it's made you light-headed" I tell him, and he scrubs at his hair and nods.
"Well what do I do about that?" He asks, brows contorting, genuinely asking my advice, and I smile, and head for the kitchen.
"Eat some good food sir. It'll be ready in ten."
With the Colonel's usual time-keeping he appears in the doorway after exactly eight minutes. After years in the military his speciality is in arriving early for every occasion, especially when he's not invited. Today however he certainly doesn't bounce through the door with his usual childish eagerness, instead I turn to see him supporting his weight with his shaking arms on the doorframe. I pause, caught between letting him struggle himself and helping, but the timer goes and I have to attend to the food.
"Can we eat in here?," comes a voice, and I lean backward to peer out into the living room, and the Colonel is sprawled on the sofa, his head supported by its back. I see he at least managed to dress himself in an old T-shirt and baggy sweats and I'm glad. That is one job I'd really rather not have to tackle. No thank you. Lifting a mostly naked Colonel from the bath was bad
enough.
"Yes sir, food's just coming."
"Do I get Jello after?" He whines, trying to lighten the mood and I simply shake my head, not caring that he can't even see me. Out of curiosity I open the one cupboard in the Colonel's kitchen I haven't yet explored, and the top shelf is a veritable Jello fest. Laughing I walk to the doorway to find him curled up, head on a cushion, sleepy eyes considering me.
"Any particular flavour?"
"Uh...you decide," he answers, smiling warmly, and I bustle back into the kitchen to serve his meal before he falls asleep.
***************************************
A few minutes later and the Colonel has abandoned his sleepy air and is currently wolfing down a great plateful of chicken and pasta, the plate balanced on his knee as he shovels food with a large fork in his right hand. I'm just thankful my impromptu menu worked, and the Colonel certainly seems to have no complaints.
"Is it okay sir?" I ask, still feeling trepidation about my dubious cooking skills, and the Colonel somehow manages to answer me around a mouthful of fusilli.
"S'great Carter...never knew you could do good pasta..." He smiles at me briefly before stabbing another forkful of food, and I grin.
"This doesn't mean I'm doing any more than my fair share of cooking off-world sir," I add, and he rolls his eyes, not even pausing in his single minded consumption of his large plateful. Well I'm at least glad he has his appetite, though to be honest it would take a hell of an injury to make him lose that. I have to stop when I've worked my way through half of my large
helping, and at a soulful whimper of the Colonel I scrape my leftovers onto his now empty plate.
"It's good to see you haven't lost your appetite sir."
"Ah Carter, take more than a little fall to put me off my food, you know that." He grins at me over his plate, but at this mention I can't help but see that fall in my head. I remember the way my breath caught in my throat when I saw his leg slip out into nothingness, and then the way the panic appeared on his face and his arms desperately windmilled, trying to keep his
balance...and failed. He toppled, clutching at the soil and grass, and as I leaped towards him, seemingly in slow motion, and as he fell over the edge, I felt tears push at my throat when his terror-filled eyes met mine.
It took us fifteen minutes to get down to him, and he was lying flat on his back, limbs splayed, blood trickling down the side of his chin from his mouth. I have never felt so afraid as I did at that moment. When I got closer I saw that he was conscious, blinking carefully, and it turned out the blood only came from when he bit his tongue as he landed, nothing more serious than that. Still he had several broken ribs, and had twisted his back so badly he needed a good few days to rest and recover. Huh...rest and recover indeed I think as I turn to look at him, and shake my head. He's currently lying upside down on the sofa, his feet on the wall, head hanging over the edge, playing his Playstation upside down.
"Sir."
"Huh?"
"Sir..."
"What Carter? This is a tricky bit"
"I really don't think this is doing your back any good sir."
"On the contrary Major, if you knew anything you'd realise this is taking the weight off my lumbar vertebrae and allowing them to decompress" He grins smugly at the TV screen, then wiggles the controller from side to side, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he negotiates 'the tricky bit'
"Ah nuts..."
"Dead again?"
"Yeah well you keep distracting me...you can go home ya know...I'm sure you have lots to do..."
"Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easy," I smile, and lean back in my chair to read a recent copy of Sports Illustrated.
"Good," comes a quiet voice, but when I glance at him he is engrossed in his game. Looks like my company isn't received as badly as I had thought. Good. Smiling to myself I settle in comfortably in the chair to enjoy my evening with the Colonel.
**************************************
At eleven o'clock I tidy the last few items in his kitchen away and yawn through a smile. I've had a very enjoyable evening, and the Colonel was very relaxed and open around me, and I found myself reciprocating. If it's at all possible I think I like him even more after spending this pleasant evening with him. He tired quickly though, his back starting to ache a little, so I
forced some pain killers on him and made him sit and watch TV for a while. He managed to stay awake for all of ten minutes then he started to doze off, so I left him to it and cleaned the kitchen. All done I walk back through and stop, smiling at the prone form of the Colonel stretched face down across the sofa.
His left arm is loose and hanging, fingers on the carpet, and a buzzsaw-like noise emanates from his gaping mouth. I attempt to nudge him, poke him, and eventually resort to a shake but he's dead to the world, and there's no way, no way I'll be able to move his bulk all the way to his bedroom. Damn. It's two in the morning and I've had a few beers so I'm not driving, and he's claimed the couch where I was planning to sleep. He doesn't really have a lot of other comfortable chairs, and I'm not sleeping on the floor. I pace up and down for a while, trying to think up some possibilities, but I can only come to one real conclusion.
I'm going to have to sleep in the Colonel's bed.
The very idea makes me feel uncomfortable, but I slowly come to realise that I have no choice if I want to sleep at all. I give him one last rough shake to wake him, but all I get is a grunt, and drool on my jacket which is still draped over the arm. Great...thanks Colonel. I have to sleep in your bed and you drool on my jacket. This is a great use of my downtime.
Gathering my courage I leave the Colonel under a warm blanket and step gingerly into his bedroom. I cross quickly to the bedside lamp and flick it on, leaving the large light off. I leave the door obviously open, should he wake and need me, and remove my shoes and jeans. Thankfully I wore a long T-shirt under my jersey, and that will serve as nightwear. I have myself almost convinced that everything will be okay, that it's just an ordinary bed, when I slip under the covers and realise with a gulp that all I can smell is the Colonel.
Forcing myself to breathe through my mouth I pull the covers to my chin, but keeping them away from my nose.
The morning can't come quickly enough.
**************************************
*Yawn*
Is it morning? It must be morning, there's light blazing through my eyelids. Sighing I stretch a little, but don't open my eyes, not yet, I'm still so tired.
Man, I was having some weird dreams last night, all about the Colonel and...
"Uhn."
Uhn? I never said that, did I? No I couldn't have, that wasn't my voice. Well if it wasn't mine...I know for a fact I didn't go to bed with anyone last night, but this bed does smell like...
Oh
Oh I'm in the Colonel's bed aren't I? And if I didn't know he was definitely, *definitely* asleep on the couch in the other room, I'd swear that he was the warm thing pressed against my side making all that noise. No more noises follow and the warmth could be a pillow, so I try and fall asleep again, since I am alone, when suddenly something heavy falls across my waist. I go stiff, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. I open one eye and cringe when I see what can only be a hand lying in front of me, attached to an arm which stretches back behind me. A very male arm. Somebody please tell me why I'm in bed with the Colonel.
I just go stiff.
My senses suddenly strain to pick up everything, and suddenly I'm very well aware of the man behind me. His warm chest is now pressed up against my back, his arm over me, and I can also feel his warm breath wafting the hair on my neck. Just when I think things can't get any worse he wriggles, and his nose pushes into my hair and meets my skin.
This won't do.
I can almost keep calm enough to work out a strategy of escape, when he pushes his hips against me, and I detect the unmistakable signs that he is starting to uh...notice that I'm pressed against him. Not wanting this, *his* situation to exacerbate I leap from the bed and across the room in one swift move, leaving the bed undulating wildly behind me.
"Ahfercryin'..." He mumbles, waking suddenly and scrunching up, arms wrapped around himself.
"Sir..." I start, not knowing whether I should be apologising or be on the receiving end of one, and he opens his eyes one at a time and takes in the surroundings before screwing them tight shut again and groaning. I want to go to him, want to help, but I find myself frozen against the door frame. He opens one eye and surveys me, then the bed and my state of attire, then sighs and carefully turns and lies flat on his back.
"Okay...Carter, I realise we shouldn't be in this position, but did you have to bounce my ribs when you leapt out of bed?"
"I'm sorry sir," I reply from my position by the door, and he eases himself over to face me, and grimaces. I take a quick jerky step backwards, hands clenched in front of me, and he sighs.
"Hey, I'm not gonna bite," he says, and my face must have paled as he quickly reaches out a hand in my direction to calm me.
"Okay, okay. Look...umm...I take it you left me sleeping on the couch?" He asks, face scrunching as he tries to remember, and I nod.
"Yeah I must have woke in the night and struggled to bed. Uh...sorry about that Carter...I didn't mean to startle you or anything. Uh...I...I didn't do anything did I?"
"Aside from keeping me warm sir, no."
"Glad to be of service Carter, and may I say you kept me warm too. It was kinda nice to wake up with you" My breath catches in my throat and he turns away and carefully sits up at those last words, and I get the distinct impression he said rather more than he meant to as he pushes the sheets aside. Only then do I realise he's only wearing boxers and a T-shirt, and his sweat pants are pooled on the floor by his feet. I'm so glad the Colonel doesn't sleep naked, I don't think that's something I could have coped with. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he attempts to pull himself to his feet, then gives up and sits back down.
"How are you feeling this morning?" I ask him, taking a few steps closer, arms folded, and he touches his ribs then looks up at me, and freezes. I can feel the cool morning air on my naked legs, and it looks like the Colonel has just noticed all I'm wearing is a long T-shirt. Keep talking sir...please...
"Uh...fine. Little sore actually, bit achy..." He admits truthfully, his eyes making a slow, far too slow, journey from my toes to my hair. I collect the rest of my clothes, then quickly move to the door.
"I'll make some breakfast sir, don't rush to get up. Toast and cereal?" I ask, holding the door, ready to close it behind me.
"Sounds good. I think I'll take a shower, warm up these pesky muscles." I smile and nod and leave, the Colonel's eyes on me every second. Finally outside I rest against the door for a minute, pressing my hot cheek against its coolness. No, not how I imagined today beginning. Why didn't I wake up when he came to bed? Half asleep, sore and lumbering as he would have been I
should have noticed! I guess I'm lucky he didn't come around to the other side and get in...I guess now I know which side of the bed the Colonel sleeps on...not that I want to know of course...of course...
Breakfast Sam, make breakfast.
****************************************
I've all but finished preparing a decent breakfast when the Colonel steps into the kitchen and when I turn to face him I find him smiling as he moves towards me, his hands starting to reach out. Then his face blanks, and he quickly sidesteps to the counter to look at the breakfast I've prepared. That was...strange...Its been a while since I had a regular boyfriend, and the Colonel just looked for all the world like he was a boyfriend who'd just got up, and was coming to give his girlfriend a morning hug, seeing she had breakfast prepared. Weird. Too weird. Weirdest of all I felt a return smile form on my own face as he advanced on me. Okay Sam, I think I may be overstaying my welcome.
"Can I have Jelly on my toast?"
"Sure sir...what kind?"
"Raspberry! The one, true jelly!"
I laugh and take the raspberry jelly from the cupboard. I start to screw off the top when he leans over and takes it from my hand, peeling the knife from my other hand.
"Why don't you grab a shower? I'm sure after sleeping next to me you'd want one. Feel free to grab a clean T-shirt or something."
I pause and consider it. I could do with a shower, but it'd be easy to wait till I got home. Mind you, although the Colonel is beaming he still grimaces when he leans over to spread the jam, and leaving him on his own all day would be asking for trouble if I know him at all well. Knowing him he'd try to play hockey or go kayaking, and I'd be in big trouble with the General
for letting him.
"Um...okay." I pause, glancing from the toaster to the kettle to the dirty dishes, and he throws me a grin over his shoulder as I slowly back out of the door, loath to abandon my breakfast in its formative stages.
"I'll finish breakfast honey, go have a shower."
I nod and turn, and I've taken five steps across his living room before I stop dead.
Honey.
Honey?
He just called me honey. Colonel Jack O'Neill just called me honey. I quickly move the rest of the way through to the doorway to his bedroom, and when I glance back I see his back hunched, his hands closed into fists on the counter in front of him as he no doubt curses himself silently. That's the second thing he's said that he wishes he hadn't. That's the second thing *I* wish he hadn't said. I can understand how it happened, I myself had just found myself slipping way too comfortably into a role here, and it wasn't my role as Major Carter, his 2IC. I think I should leave as soon as possible.
My shower passes in a blur, my mind a whirl, and when I emerge back into his bedroom I quickly select an old T-shirt from the bottom of his drawer and pull on the rest of my clothes. I take as much time as I can dressing, but I know I have to go out there. All my hopes of seeing the Colonel happily bouncing around his house as if nothing had happened are dashed when I open the door to see him sitting morosely on the sofa, two steaming mugs in front of him, and a plateful of toast. One large jelly covered slice is clutched untouched in his hand. He looks up at me, his face set, and I smile and drop onto the other end of the sofa, quickly clutching a mug to my chest, blowing to cool it. The Colonel drops his untouched toast slice back onto the plate, and slumps back in his seat. Okay, things have gotten weird. Can't we just gloss over this like normal?
"What do you have planned for today sir?" I ask, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, and he shifts beside me, edging a little closer, and I feel my shoulders start to bunch defensively.
"Whatever you want to do Carter." He replies, voice fairly flat, and I smile and gulp some coffee.
"Well if you promise not to do anything dangerous or taxing I think you can be trusted on your own today." What I don't say is I think it's safer, for both of us, if I go home.
"I'd rather you stayed with me."
"I...I have things to do sir."
"No you don't."
"I...sir I"
"You just want to go cause I made you feel uncomfortable, and I'm sorry about that Carter. I...can't we just do something together?"
He turns those big brown eyes on me, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and I sigh. Damn him but he already knows he's won doesn't he?
"Like what?" I ask softly, looking at the floor, and he inches another little bit closer.
"Well...How 'bout I kick you're ass at Super Bass Fishing?" he asks, waggling his console controller at me, and I roll my eyes.
"Is that the best you have to offer?" I ask, trying to joke, but he takes it as anything but. He quickly slides to the edge of his seat, controller forgotten. He sits up straight, hands in his lap, face very serious indeed.
"There's lots of things we could do. We could go for a walk in the park, it's lovely at this time of year, or we could take a trip to a nice spot by the river outside town, you could drive my four-wheel drive. I'm sure I've stuff for a picnic..." His words trail off, his eyes wide and sincere, and I feel a sudden, abject panic. Feels like a certain feeling I had once when a
certain Colonel asked me fishing. This time however, there's no handy Asgard to save me.
**********************************************
"Computer games are fine," I stutter, and for a second, a very brief second, I see his utter disappointment. He covers it quickly before he nods once, gets up and leaves the room, flicking his games console on before he leaves. I take a controller in my suddenly shaky hands, and focus on the game.
Fishing for bass...how ironic. Looks like I'm going fishing with the Colonel after all. I wonder how big they come in the game? I sit and scroll through the options, and wait for the Colonel.
Fifteen minutes later he hasn't come back, and I start to worry. It's only when I finally turn to get up that I find him leaning on the doorway to his bedroom, just watching me. He doesn't move when I meet his gaze.
"Sir?"
"Not how I imagined us fishing Carter," he says sadly. I force a laugh, and try to grin at the animated bass on the TV screen.
"Oh it has its advantages," I tell him, and when I look up again he's standing by the edge of the sofa.
"Really? What?"
"Uh....well..."
"How 'bout disadvantages Carter? Huh? No lake, no cabin, no wildlife..."
He's worrying me, with the monotone voice and those dead looking eyes, and I shift uncomfortably on my chair.
"No mosquitos sir..."
"And no privacy."
"Maybe...well...that's not always a good thing..."
"Feel free to leave when you want."
His gaze is challenging now, his arms folded over his chest, and I look at the floor.
"I'll go if you want me to sir...I."
"Did I say that? Did I say I wanted you to go? Did I?"
"No but..."
"Well stop assuming things about me! You've been doing that since day one Carter! You never ask, never get my side of the story or listen to what I think, you just assume!"
What does he mean by that? Do I? He throws his hands in the air then winces, and steps to the couch, easing himself down onto the edge.
"Do you know why I wanted you to come fishing with me?"
A gulp starts at the top of my throat and works it's way down, seemingly to my toes. I'm not sure if I want to know the answer. Undeterred by my lack of response he relaxes back against the chair, with a frighteningly easy smile.
"Whatever you're thinking Carter, you're wrong. Sure my mind's wandered along the lines of the soft, king size bed in the master bedroom, but that's not what I was meaning."
I must look like a lobster with the enormous blush I can feel creeping up my neck at his words. I like to think I'm an educated intelligent woman, but it can take just a few soft words from him to render me dumb.
"I...I just. All I wanted was to see you by the lake, in the trees, by the light of the stars, that's all." He slumps back in his seat, pouting a little, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"Sir, we're off-world all the time in just those sort...."
"No, it's not the same. I just wanted you to be you, Sam, not Major Carter. I wanted to see you relax, maybe sipping a beer on the jetty, and most of all, I wanted to see you smile. I wanted to see you smile at me, just me. I wanted to know there was no-one else around, no-one for miles. Then I could be sure, absolutely sure, that you were smiling at me, because of me."
"I...I don't know what to say sir."
"Well...you could start with not saying 'sir'."
"I don't think I can. But, if I had gone fishing with you...I would have smiled."
He smiles, a little sadly, and looks steadily at his feet.
"Well I guess I'll never find out for sure huh?"
He raises his eyes, daring me to answer, and I don't. I won't answer that. I won't let him force me to answer when the answer depends on so many things. I don't know what there is between us, or what it means for now or the future, only that this is the way it has to stay, and this is the way it will stay. Surprisingly he snorts, and picks up the second controller.
"Good answer. Still, I bet I can kick your ass at fishing."
"Don't count on it sir." I answer, trying to smile, and his disappears as he stares at the screen.
"I can never count on anything with you Carter."
He jerks back in surprise when my controller hits him square in the chest, knocking him off balance, and when he falls awkwardly, wheezing a little, I curse my sudden loss of temper. Yes he's a asshole, but beating up on a badly injured man is hardly fair play, even when he pushes me too far. I sit and seethe, watching him curled up on the floor, clutching his ribs and trying to breath slowly through the pain. Yes I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry enough to say it or help him.
"I...I guess I don't need to ask...*why* you did that Carter...but couldn't you have just...yelled at me?...or...something..." His eyes are still tightly screwed shut, and I contemplate just leaving, but I'd never forgive myself for injuring him further. Sighing, I get to my knees and take a hold of his upper arm, trying to pull him round onto his back.
"Ow! Jeez Carter...what is this, round two?"
"Sir, please, I'm trying to check if you're okay" He squirms under my questing hands, grimacing with every move as I try and get a firm grip on him.
"Okay? No I'm not okay, and you should have thought of that before throwing stuff at me!"
I kneel either side of his thrashing legs and holding his shoulders I twist his body, finally getting his back on the floor, but his hands clutch at my arms, and he continues to struggle, just increasing the pain he must be feeling.
"Well you should have thought of that before...before..."
"Before what?" He asks, suddenly stilling, and I find myself staring directly down into his wide brown eyes as I straddle him. I have my hands on his chest, and his which were previously grasping my wrists quickly slide upward, and curl around my own shoulders.
"Let go." I say quickly, and he affects a confused look.
"Me let go? You're the one pinning me down, and...and you're leaning...Sam you're leaning on my chest..." I quickly try to lift my arms, but they're the only thing supporting me, and his face is starting to contort again. Throwing caution to the wind I try to throw myself backward, hopefully putting my weight back on my knees, but he shifts awkwardly under me, and suddenly my weight is supported by his hands. He blows out a breath with the sudden effort of holding me, then his arms buckle, his strained chest and back unable to take the weight. I fall forward onto him, my arms tangled with his and unable to help stop my descent. He manages to stop my full weight thumping down onto his chest, but still I feel the air forced from his body when I make contact.
And somehow, somewhere in all of that, in that tangle of limbs and desperate twisting, his lips find mine, and he kisses me. The bastard kisses me! For a few seconds I still have my eyes shut, my senses dominated by the hammering of both our hearts, and the feel, the sudden soft intoxicating warmth of his lips covering mine. He set this up, the bastard isn't hurt at all! I try to pull back but his arms are now wrapped around me, one creeping into my hair. I can't believe he'd *do* this to me! He seems perfectly relaxed beneath me, now starting to breath easy, and the kiss is lazy, languid, sensual. Kiss! *kiss* Sam remember? He's *kissing* you! I struggle again, opening my eyes, and his brows gather together above his closed eyes as though he's surprised at my reactions! I rock a little, get one arm free, but it takes a couple of
hard thumps against his chest before he lets me go with a sharp exhale, and I roll off him and get to my feet, walking quickly away. Get some distance between us.
I trot quickly into his kitchen, and lean against a unit out of sight of the living room, a hand pressed against my mouth. Oh my God! I *knew* looking after him was a bad idea, but he's never been like this before, never! Sure he's pushed, he's occasionally wandered this side of that imaginary line, but this! Why this, and why now? He's never been so open and maudlin when injured before, but then I've never been the sole carer before have I? Well never again, *never* again! I don't know what excuse he thinks is going to cover this one. God it makes me wonder how he treats the nurses who normally care for him in the infirmary! When he comes in here I'm going to...
I pause in my seething, and quickly realise there's no sound from the next room. Well if he's left for a sulk that's fine but...I would have heard a door or something...surely? Grasping my bottom lip between my teeth I inch towards the open door. I step onto the threshold, and see he's still lying curled on the floor facing away. I feel anger rising in my throat, feel words ready to spill out, and then I see the dark, slowly spreading patch of blood showing through the white T-shirt covering his ribs. He still doesn't move.
"Sir? Sir!" I shout, rushing to his side.
Oh God.
What have I done??
*************************************
Half an hour later and my hands are still trembling, so I tuck them under my arms and hope no one notices. I'm standing by the still open front door, hopping from foot to foot, and Janet sits on the sofa, wrapping fresh bandages around the Colonel's side, who is sitting quietly, looking very sorry for himself, and very pale. When I found the Colonel lying like that, I didn't quite know what to do. I quickly checked him over and he was immovable with pain, so I automatically called Janet. She got here within ten minutes, and between us we got the very quiet Colonel onto the sofa, and luckily, all he suffered were some ripped stitches. Still it looked a lot of blood to me, and Janet assured me I'd done the right thing. She never asked
questions, just got to her work, and finally finished she helps the Colonel ease his T-shirt down
She quickly packs her gear away, then starts to look at faces for answers.
"I thought you'd at least be safe at home, Colonel. Want to tell me what happened?"
He eases himself carefully down against the back of the sofa, head down, looking very sheepish.
"I fell."
"You fell?" Janet asks, not believing a word, and I step forward, ready to admit my guilt. I should do, I should admit that I threw something at him, then fell on him, then....then I punched him in the ribs a few times! Before I can step out in front of Janet, the Colonel answers for me.
"Yeah I was...I was screwing around, you know me, and I fell off the couch. I was trynna play my game upside down and..."
"Upside down?" Asks Janet incredulously, and I bite my lip. Why is he lying like this, why doesn't he just say it was me, that I'm responsible. Well, maybe because he'd have to tell her *why* I did what I did.
"Uh...yeah...upside down, it was entirely my own fault." His eyes flick to mine, then quickly away, but there's no blame there, no censure, just a look that begs me to go along with his story. Janet turns to face me as she packs her equipment away, and she looks a little annoyed.
"Sam? You let him do that? Where were you when he fell?"
I take a deep breath, looking into his eyes, and he stares at me when I can' t find the words.
"I...I uh..."
"She did tell me not to play upside down doc, she warned me it wouldn't be good for my back."
"And I was in the kitchen when he fell, cleaning up, I called you straight away."
Janet nods, seemingly satisfied, and Jack's eyes drop to the floor.
"Okay, well no major damage done, mostly ego's I think." she adds smiling, getting her coat.
"Well I'm going home for some time with my daughter. Sir, you really need to take it easy, and that means staying the right way up, and Sam, I'd keep a closer eye on him if I were you, or I'll be coming to collect him and take him back to the infirmary."
She looks from me to the Colonel, and receives only blank stares.
"Is that clear?" She asks with a lop-sided smile, looking amused at our expressions.
"Yes."
"Sure doc."
She shakes her head, gathers her back, then leaves, giving us a jaunty wave before stepping out the door. We both stay where we are until we hear her car pull away onto the road, then the Colonel slowly slides down the couch onto his side, carefully pulling his knees up to his chin.
"Sorry I got ya in trouble," he grunts quietly, and I cross my arms.
"I think you're the one in trouble," I add, staring at the wall, and he gives me a long measuring look.
"You could have told Janet the truth."
"And what would that have achieved? I don't even...I don't even know what happened, I...I just..."
"Where I come from it's called kissing," he states matter-of-factly, and I whirl on him so fast he flinches, screwing up his face.
"Don't be a smartass!" I yell angrily.
"And here was me thinking you were the smart one," he adds, still leaning away from me as I edge closer. He's actually scared of me.
"Sir, I'm not going to hit you," I assure him, and he closes his eyes, then peeks up at me from under the lids.
"Promise?"
"That depends on your behaviour sir."
He smiles a squint smile, and holding the back of the sofa he slowly pulls himself upright, hissing with the pain.
"Well I'm afraid I'm not fit enough to carry you on my shoulder kicking and screaming to my bedroom, so I'd say you're safe."
"Very funny sir."
"It wasn't a joke."
"Will you stop it! What's come over you? I've never seen you so...so..."
"Honest? Open? Truthful?" He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I find myself completely lost for words. He is acting so out of character, I've never seen him so...He seems to sense my internal struggle then and bobs his head to catch my eye.
"Honest? Open? Truthful?" He repeats, and I slump down onto a chair and hold my head.
"I don't know, I just don't know...why are you acting like this?" My head is starting to throb. Have I entered an alternate universe here? Has the Colonel been replaced with a doppelganger? Or worse, did he pick up a little reptilian friend on that last mission? No, it's not possible, not with the breadth of tests Janet carried out on him.
"Why am I acting like this? That's a good question Carter..." he muses, a finger curled on his top lip. "I...something kinda changed when I fell off that cliff."
I lift my head from my hands, and he no longer looks the cocky teasing man he was a minute ago. He looks quite meek now, hands folded on his lap, brows furrowed as he concentrates on his words.
****************************************
"What changed?" I prompt, and he bites his lip.
"When I kinda came to at the bottom of that cliff, I was, well, I was hurting like hell, and actually a little surprised to be alive" I gulp, not really wanting to go there, remember how it felt to see him lying there, so very still..."All I could see was the blue sky, and all I could feel was a kinda numb pain in my back. My toes were tingling so I knew at least that I
wasn't paralysed, but I was still panicking. I couldn't remember where I was, or what I was doing there, all I could feel was I was afraid, and I was alone."
"We tried to..."
"Let me finish Sam. Now I know I've had my fair share of brushes with death, but this was...I don't know...I think it was different because I was completely unprepared. There was no threat, no gun at my throat, no snake in front of me, I just...fell. And you know what the first thing I saw among all that sky was?"
"No sir."
"You Carter, I saw you. Your face appeared above me, and I was so glad, so relieved, but the look on your face froze me...you. God, Sam, you were looking at me like you couldn't bare to lose me."
"I...I was worried..." I answer, and he snorts quietly, cradles his head in his hands briefly, letting it rock from side to side before meeting my confused, and frightened, gaze. "I don't want to know if you were worried Carter, I want to know if I was *right*."
"Sir?"
"About the way you were looking at me...was I right?"
"I..."
"Was I right?!"
"I don't know, I can't remember..."
"Daniel was worried, Teal'c was worried, you were...more than worried."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Please sir, you know why."
"I've never heard you say it."
"I'm not going to say it sir" I tell him firmly, closing my eyes, and he sighs noisily, and when I look at him he's sitting silent, glaring out he window with a fisted hand pressed against his mouth.
"I can't let things stay as they are Sam...and I won't."
"With all due respect sir...it's not just your decision. And for now I'm sticking with mine."
He jerks in his seat to face me, and for a moment I find myself under intense scrutiny, before he speaks.
"For now? So does that mean if the opportunity for us came up in the future, you'd want to take it?"
I find I can't answer so direct a question, but he makes his own assumptions as I blush slightly and look downwards. He nods then, seeming decided, and he settles in the chair and looks at me as I raise my head.
"Okay then. Why don't we make some plans for the future?" He says, and I recoil.
"The future?"
"Sure. I won't let us sit at a standstill and you won't let us have more, so we need to do something in between." Fear swells in me, and I start to panic slightly, not sure what he's meaning or referring to.
"I don't think that's a good idea..." I stutter, but his hand settles on my shoulder as he entreats me.
"Look, things might work out, maybe even sooner than you think." I shrug his hand off, and try to slide away on the sofa.
"We don't know that, and even if things off-world became settled, we don't know that in the future we'll still...feel the same." I try and make him see my fears, but he slaps his knee in frustration and gesticulates wildly, trying to make me see his point of view.
"Jeez Sam...no couple in the world knows for certain that their gonna be together in a years or five years time. No-one can see the future but they still make plans for it. What makes us so different?"
"We're not a couple!"
"No we're not, but that doesn't really change anything..."
"Doesn't really change anything? Sir..." I feel exasperated, shaking my head, but he touches my shoulder again, and I look into those damn deep eyes of his.
"Do you want to be a couple?" he asks, catching me way off guard.
"I..."
"Not a hard question Carter...I kinda thought that with your brain you'd come up with an answer pretty quick."
I say nothing, and fume quietly.
"Oh now I got ya fuming huh?"
Bastard. How does he know?
"It's the eyes," he adds, smiling knowingly. How did he know I was thinking that? And...my eyes? What does he mean it's my eyes? Caught in my thoughts he turns in his seat beside me carefully, and places his folded hands on his knees.
"Look...You've told me how you feel and I understand. I understand your position, and I think you understand mine. I guess that realistically, we can't have anything right now, you're right in that and I'm sorry I've pushed, it's just...Well look...how about we do something? Just something for the future?"
"Do what?" I ask, leaning slightly away from him, feeling trepidation rise in my throat. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.
"How 'bout this..." He starts, and when he's finished outlining his little plan I find myself lost for words. But slowly, under his intense gaze and through the maelstrom of my thoughts, I come to a decision, and smile.
***************************************
I've never felt more on the edge of turning and fleeing in my life.
A raucous and never-ending argument has been waging in my head since I woke this morning, after only a brief and disturbed sleep as the argument started many days past. But I'm still here aren't I?
No matter whether or not I've decided to go through with it, I've still come here, like we agreed.
I nearly jump out of my skin when an elderly lady brushes past, and instead I apologise profusely for about a minute, my nervousness making me suddenly verbose, my hands flapping around my face as she assures me she's okay, and that it was her fault anyway. Still, I move to the wall out of the way, and briefly consider hiding behind the large potted plant that sits in front of the window.
Better not.
The sound of the automatic door swooshing open finds me spinning on my heels, but it's a couple of teenagers who head straight for the ATM. Has he decided not to come? Still.I'm fifteen minutes early, and there's enough time for him to turn up and still be his usual early self. If he turns up.if I don't leave before he has the chance to.
No.I'm not leaving.we have an appointment.
"Hey."
My tongue leaps in my mouth then attempts to jam itself down my throat, and while the Colonel stands there, hands in pockets, eyebrows drawn together, I do a little dance on the spot, almost choking as I try and speak.
"He.hey" I stutter, trying to control myself, and he nudges me with his elbow, hands still tucked deep in the depths of his jean pockets, open brown leather jacket hiked up at the sides over his wrists.
"You okay?" He asks, eyes dodging around the room, probably searching the bank for people we might know, but you don't have to worry Colonel, I've searched the entire mall and we appear to be safe. For the moment anyway. Still, I screw up my eyes and search the bank with him, scrutinising a woman in a queue who *could* be Janet in disguise. No.now don't be stupid Sam.no-one knows we're here.do they? Still.Daniel could have followed me from the mountain in his car.
"Fine" I answer, deliberately not using 'sir' but my fake confidence fades, and I find my knees are trembling again, and I feel my face pale as my eyes drop to the floor.
"Ya ready?" asks the Colonel, forcing a smile, but though he looks subdued, his eyes are twinkling in their dark depths, and I can tell he's secretly excited. After all it was his idea and I know he really wants to go through with it, really wants to, needs to even, to do something. I agreed with him at the time, and if I'm honest, I still agree with it now. I came, that says it all doesn't it?
I nod, biting my lip and he frowns, and moves me out of the passing people closer to the wall, and I suck in a long breath as he carefully takes my hand, keeping his movements out of sight. He squeezes my fingers and I look up, and into those eyes of his.
"Sam, if you've changed your mind."
He lets the sentence fade away, fear stretched across his face, but I squeeze his hand then drop it, trying to smile a reassuring smile and mostly succeeding.
"I haven't" I whisper, and he grins.
"Well I hope you've brought your purse," he adds, and nudges me again, and we start to walk across the foyer, towards the rear. I frown and concentrate on the floor, and almost smack into him when he stops short, and turn, face screwed up and uncertain. He bites on the side of his lip for a moment, and I find I'm glad that he is feeling as weird about this as I am, even if it was his idea. He leans towards me conspiratorially, dark eyes pensive.
"We're not being stupid...are we?" He asks, just as he asked that night. Just as we both asked that night. I know what he really thinks though, he came up with this idea. Still, the man is just looking for some reassurance. I smile as broadly as I can, and though I'm nervous and still a little unsure, he sees that true smile and the corners of his own mouth lift.
"It's not stupid," I tell him, my voice slightly admonishing. He grins, eyes sparkling, and nudges me towards the rear of the foyer.
"I know," he says quietly, and I clutch my purse in both my hands, the weight of it seeming to increase with each step we take. Before I can really start to worry, or doubt, or even contemplate thinking about changing my mind, a woman dressed in the livery of the bank approaches us with a friendly smile.
"Mr O'Neill? Miss Carter?"
I can feel the Colonel's huge grin beside me and I blush and duck my head, tucking some hair behind my ear.
"That's us," he says, and she asks us to follow her and leads us to one of the offices in the back, where we choose seats and wait. The Colonel leans back in his chair and blows out a breath, then winces and touches his ribs inside his jacket.
"How are they?" I ask, seeing the brief pain flash over his face, and he grimaces a little.
"Healing," he tells me, and it doesn't seem like a week since he fell. Things seem to have changed so much in that brief time. I open my mouth to say more but the door opens, and a short bald man walks in and smiles at us, taking his seat as he makes his introductions.
"Mr O'Neill, Miss Carter? Good afternoon, I'm Mr. Black. I understand you want to open a joint account."
"That's right." says the Colonel smiling, and I smile, feeling a sudden change in the air, a sudden promise. A first step. A move in the direction of...us.
Mr. Black starts to outline the details of the joint account, and the Colonel leans his elbow on the table, chin in his hand as he scrutinises the papers in front of him and nods along with the explanations. I sit back in my seat, letting him take charge, allowing my fingers to play with the edge of the hundred dollar bill I've withdrawn from my purse.
Today we open a joint account with two hundred dollars. Sound stupid? Yes it certainly sounds stupid, but it means a lot. Every month we'll come here, each probably on our own, and deposit another hundred dollars into our account. It's not a lot of money I know, but it's not the amount that matters, it's the fact that we're putting something away for the future, for *our* future...that's what counts. That's why it means something.
I nod as Mr. Black outlines the ins and outs of what would happen should one of us die, and the Colonel and I have already discussed that in length. If that should happen, the other gets all the money to do with as they want. If one of us meets someone else, or something else happens, then we split the money and go our separate ways. And the third option...well...we use the money together...some day far off in the future. So it's not really binding, nothing permanent, but we get to feel like we're doing something to provide for our future...together.
We've made no other promises, we're not beholden to or responsible for the other as anything but friends, and our relationship for now, stays exactly as it is. I know the Colonel has found it very difficult to back off since his recent...well...decision I suppose, but he respects my choices, and we both know this is how it has to be. So we've allowed ourselves this one, secret, private concession...and no-one else will ever know. Not even our best friends will know about what we're about to do, and we can't allow it to be any other way.
I smile down at my hundred dollar note I hold below the desk, feeling its crackly surface beneath my fingertips, and I only look up when the Colonel nudges me, holding out a pen. I look into his eyes, and he smiles warmly at me, his eyes hopeful, and as I take the pen from his fingers he slides the form along the surface of the desk and I look down at it, seeing his scrawled signature already there on the first line, the second line blank. Waiting for me. For my signature. For my agreement. For my admission.
I feel both the Colonel's and Mr. Black's eyes on me, so I take up the pen, and carefully sign my name on the dotted line, and with a smile I really feel, I slide the paper back across the desk, and it seems that the deal is done. I've never had a joint account before, and having signed up for one it makes me feel strangely adult. What a stupid thought for someone my age.
"These are for you, and further details will follow in the mail," says Mr. Black, and the last formalisations are completed. The Colonel and I each hand over a hundred dollars, and the account is officially opened.
"Thank you," says the Colonel, shaking hands with Mr. Black, and in turn I repeat his words and shake his hand, smiling broadly. We stand and collect our jackets, and with a final goodbye we walk out into the foyer, and leave the bank and finally turn to face each other outside in the busy mall.
"So."
"So."
The Colonel breaks into a large grin and laughs, and I can't help but do the same. It's certainly good to see him in such good humour after the events of the last week, and I can't help but feel smug as I'm part of the reason he's so happy.
"Now remember Carter, I don't want you slacking on me. I expect you to make every monthly payment!"
"I assure you sir, *I* won't forget."
"Implying that I might? Fer cryin' out loud, I *paid* you back for my half of Daniel's birthday present Carter!"
"Eventually..."
"Hey, you got your money. Besides...you never reminded me about it."
"So I have to remind you about this?"
"No. No you don't. I promise you Carter this is one money matter I won't forget about."
I nod at his vehement declaration, and then we both smile, and his attention is drawn by sounds from the video arcade next door, so I shoulder my bag and prepare to leave.
"Well sir, I really should go, I have some shopping to do."
"Yeah me too. Well, it was nice banging into ya Carter. I guess I'll see ya on base on Monday."
"Yes sir."
"Have fun shopping."
"You too sir."
"Will do, see ya!" He yells over his shoulder as he waves, then wanders off to the electrical shop. Smiling I turn and head to my favourite clothes shop, patting my handbag to make sure I still have my copy of the joint account details. Maybe it does seem silly, and maybe it seems like a token gesture, but not to us. To us it means everything.
We're saving for a future we might not even live to see, but at least we're taking a step in that direction. And who knows? Maybe one day huh?
With that one last thought on the matter, I mentally command my VISA card to brace itself, and I step inside the shop.
***************************************************
THE END
***************************************************
Story Notes: NOTES: Thanks to Ann, the SJHW Mom and hassler of writers to whom I am indebted for finishing this fic!
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 ]