Procrastination. He was great at it. A kind of master, really. Reports to write? Hell, he'd find ten reasons why he needed to clear out his locker, or check his kit, or strip down and clean his MP-5. Anything. Jack O'Neill was the supreme master of procrastination. Which was why he was determinedly walking towards the infirmary to see Daniel, instead of towards the lab to see Carter. But hey, Daniel was a friend, a colleague, a team member. He needed to check on him, right? It was his duty. Right? Right.
Spying Daniel dozing at the far end of the room, he approached the bed. He looked suspiciously well, actually. Rather better than he'd hoped - um, feared. "Hey," he said.
"Hey," Daniel replied, slightly startled.
Damn, how come he looked so well? He was meant to be sick. "How ya doin'?"
Daniel gazed at him with a curious look in his eyes. "Good," he said, and then frowned. "Did you get your hair cut?"
"Yeah." So he'd gotten a haircut? Big deal. "Why?" It's not like he was trying to impress anyone. Why would he?
"No reason," Daniel shrugged, clearly suspicious.
Time to change the subject. "Can I see your scar?"
"No."
"Uh. Fraiser says it'll be about a week before ya get outta here," he said, doing his best not to sound hopeful. Concerned. That was the emotion he was going for, concern for his team-mate.
"You know," Daniel sighed, "it's funny. I mean, after everything we've been through these past few years, and of all things, it's my appendix that lays me out." Okay, now he *really* had to work hard not to smile; Daniel had been laid out more times than he could count! "But it's not gonna be a week," he continued, "I mean I... I practically... I feel fine now."
Crap. He felt fine? Damn. That wasn't in the plan. Not that there was a plan. Well, he had to ask didn't he? If Daniel was feeling so damn fine, he had to ask. "Wanna go fishing?" He held his breath, waiting for the answer.
"Actually, I wouldn't...," Daniel nodded, and Jack felt his heart sinking towards his toes. But then Daniel tried to sit up and - okay, that looked like pain. Not that he was happy to see his friend in pain, but.... "Uh. Well, maybe...," Daniel muttered, "No, you know, I... I think maybe I'll just... I will stay here for two or three... three days."
Jack found his heart beating a little faster. There was nothing in his way now. No more excuses, he realized. It was now or never. "Bye," he told Daniel abruptly, turning hurriedly away, afraid that if he didn't do it right now he'd back out of it completely. He saw a flash of surprise in Daniel's eyes before he left, but didn't have time to worry about it. He had more important things on his mind.
By the time he reached Carter's lab he'd wrestled his racing heart back into line and had almost convinced himself that he wasn't about to do anything even remotely close to the line. Nothing at all. Just going to see a friend, right? Right.
The sounds emanating from her lab were scary. God only knew what she was doing in there, but sparks were flying and the whole thing looked damn unsafe. "Carter!" he yelled, shielding his eyes against the glare.
She heard him and turned *something* off, pulling the visor from her face and ruffling her hair. Not that he noticed the way she ruffled her hair. Why would he?
"Sir! Hi!" She seemed surprised, but pleased to see him. "How's Daniel?"
"Ah, he's gonna be fine," he told her, and then frowned a little. "What're you doin'?"
He should have known better than to ask. "Ah, I'm getting ready to do a detailed analysis of the decay rate of naquada within the reactor," she told him enthusiastically. He cringed a little as her excitement mounted. "It's really quite amazing. Unlike plutonium, naquada actually has a..."
"Argh!" Enough! "I'm on vacation!" he protested.
And then she smiled, one of her delightful, heart-melting smiles. "Yes, Sir."
"So are you," he pointed out, aware that his voice had taken on a slightly softer tone. He couldn't help it though, not when she smiled at him like that.
"I know," she replied. "It's not that I'm happy that Daniel's in excruciating pain or anything like that, but I've actually been looking forward to an opportunity like this for quite some time."
Only Carter! "Ya know," he said, edging towards the purpose of his visit, "maybe it's just me, but I always thought when one *got* some leave, one actually *left*." 'Okay Jack, easy on the sarcasm', he reminded himself; not that Sam seemed to mind, in fact he was rewarded with another smile. "Daniel's recouping. Teal'c's off visiting his kid somewhere," he continued. "Personally, I have a date with a little lake in Minnesota where the bass grow *that* big." He demonstrated what he meant, but could tell Carter wasn't buying it.
"Really," she replied dryly.
"Oh, yes," he assured her with vehemence. "What I'm describing here, Carter, involves a very special element."
She understood him and smiled a little. "This is fun to me, sir."
Okay, this was it. This was why he'd dragged himself all the way here when he really should have hit the road already. "Well, if playing with your little reactor sounds better than exploring the lakes and natural beauty of Northern Minnesota, there's not much I can do." He held his breath, waiting for her response.
To be honest she looked a little stunned. "Was that an invitation?" she asked tentatively. "Sir?"
"Nothing wrong with that, is there?" he assured her. And himself. "A couple of co-workers, friends if you will, fishing. It'd be fun." Boy, would it ever!
"Wow," she nodded, clearly nonplussed. "I appreciate the offer, sir. Really. Sounds great! But I should...."
"No sweat!" he interrupted her, way too quickly to sound like he didn't care. "See ya in a week. And by all means, have fun."
Damn, he couldn't get out of there fast enough. She'd turned him down. Well, he'd kinda thought she might. Who was he kidding...? Why would she want to spend her leave with her CO? Probably glad to see the back of him. And actually, he reflected as he trudged back around the corner, it would be nice to have some time alone. In fact this was probably for the best. You can definitely spend too much time with your co-workers, however much you enjoy their company, however much their smile fills your heart with sunshine.... In cases like that it was probably even smarter to keep your distance. So this would be fine. A couple of good books, a pile of snacks, and a fishing line. It'd be great. In fact, he was glad she'd said no, because...
"Colonel!" His heart jolted at the sound of her voice, and his carefully constructed reasoning collapsed under a sudden, sharp hope that she had changed her mind. She looked nervous, undecided, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Come on Carter, say yes, he pleaded silently. She paused for a moment before saying, "Uh... have a good time."
"Land of sky blue waters," he tempted her, starting to get desperate. "Loofahs. Yeah, sure, ya betcha snookums. Mosquitos..." Okay, now he was definitely rambling.
She smiled, shaking her head as she studied her boots, and then with a nervous laugh said, "Are the bass *really* that big, sir?"
"Bigger," he assured her, his heart racing. She was changing her mind....
"I'm not sure if I believe you," she replied, her smile gaining confidence.
"Well," he told her, "only one way to find out, Carter."
"Guess so," she nodded. And then, with a look that said, 'I can't believe I'm doing this,' she said, "So, when do we leave?"
He grinned. "How fast can you pack?"
***
I can't believe I'm doing this. The thought had been running through her head constantly for the past two hours, as she'd closed down the reactor - damn, she really *had* been looking forward to doing that - driven home, and flung half the contents of her closet onto the bed as she tried to decide what to pack.
Sam sighed as she started to stuff clothes into her backpack. What the hell was she doing, agreeing to go with him? And what the hell was he doing asking her in the first place?!
"Okay," she muttered to herself, "shorts, tee-shirts. Jeans. Sweatshirt. What else? Socks..." She carried on rummaging, thinking back over their conversation. Who did he think he was kidding, with his "Nothing wrong with that, is there? A couple of co- workers, friends if you will, fishing?" Nothing wrong with that? No, but they both understood the dangerous tension that had grown between them, the unacknowledged potential for something that really, really shouldn't happen. Which was exactly why she'd said no in the first place. She should have just stayed in the damn lab and not gone running after him. But she'd been so tempted. "It'd be fun," he'd said, and the thing was, she knew it would be. Fresh air, blue waters, a quiet, peaceful few days. And good company. It *would* be fun. And although they both knew they were dancing around the edge of something, surely they were old and smart enough not to let things get out of hand? She figured they could spend a few days having fun together without crossing the line.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a ring at the doorbell and she glanced at her watch. He was early. Shoving the final few clothes into her pack she dragged it into the bathroom on her way to the front door.
"Ready to go?" the Colonel asked, as she pulled the door open.
"Almost," she told him. "Come in for a minute."
Leaving him to poke about her living room, she returned to the bathroom and started dropping toiletries into her pack. "Colonel?" she called out after a minute, hairdryer in one hand. "Where we're going - does it have electricity?"
"Sure," he replied. "Running water, all the modern conveniences."
She smiled. "Great."
"I figure we spend enough time roughing it at work," he said, "so we deserve a few creature comforts when we're on leave."
"No kidding," she agreed, stuffing her hairdryer in the top of her pack and closing it. "Done," she said, hefting it onto her shoulder.
"Then let's hit the road, Carter."
***
The sun was bright and the air was clear as they drove, and Sam felt the tension ease from her shoulders with every mile that sped by. With a contented sigh she sank back into the passenger seat and smiled. "This was a good idea, sir," she said.
"Yeah," he agreed, glancing over at her, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. "Feels good to get away from that place - much as I adore my work...."
"It's too easy to get wrapped up in it," she said, "to forget there's a whole world out here too." She smiled to herself. "Sometimes I don't even know if it's day or night outside the mountain."
"Know the feeling."
They drifted into an easy silence for a while and Sam gazed out at the speeding scenery feeling more content than she had in a long time. Too content. A yawn threatened and she sat herself up a little straighter, blinking the heaviness from her eyelids. "Mind if I turn the radio on?" she asked.
"Go ahead," he said. "I've got some CD's in here somewhere if you want...."
"Radio's fine."
She was surprised to hear the soothing tones of an announcer introducing something classical. "NPR?" she asked.
"Yeah." He glanced over at her, "What?"
"Nothing," she shrugged. "Never saw you as an NPR kind of guy, that's all."
"I like the news," he said. "Change it if you like."
"No this is nice."
She let her mind drift along to the music for a while, until Jack interrupted her thoughts. "So what kind of guy do you see me as, Carter?"
She smiled. "Think I might take the Fifth on that, sir."
"That bad, huh?" he asked with rather more feeling than she'd expected. She looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on the road.
"Not bad," she assured him quietly. "I just wouldn't want to give away too much, that's all."
"Do you always play your cards so close to your chest, Carter?" he asked with a small smile of his own.
"I find it's safer that way," she explained. Much safer.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Probably is."
***
"You know," Jack said as they pulled into the motel parking lot, "if this was a movie, we'd find they only had one room free and we'd have to share."
Sam smiled, giving nothing away. "Good thing this is real life then, sir."
He said nothing in reply, the thought of being forced to share a room with Carter suddenly seeming a whole lot more appealing than it should. He shook himself as he climbed out of the car and yawned. "We made good time," he said, glancing at his watch.
"I'm not surprised," she said, reaching into the back seat for her wallet. "The speed you drive, Colonel."
"I never knew you were such a stickler for the rules, Carter," he teased.
But the weighted look she shot him as she stood up gave him pause. "Didn't you sir?" she asked, her eyes slipping from his.
Damn it, what did that mean? He doubted she was still talking about the speed limit! He felt a little beat of uneasy anticipation pulse in the depths of his stomach, and suddenly wondered what the hell he'd been thinking, asking her to come away with him like this. He could already feel the professional line between them begin to blur.
"Sir?" Her voice him back to himself. "Shall we see if they have more than one room?"
"I hope they do," he said as they walked towards the reception, hiding his feelings with his usual banter, "because I don't think you'd be too comfortable sleeping in the car."
"Oh, I get the car do I?"
He shrugged. "Privilege of rank."
"Whatever happened to chivalry?" she sighed.
Jack almost laughed. "I thought you'd kick my butt if I tried chivalry, Carter."
Sam grinned. "Probably," she agreed. "But it has its place from time to time."
He flashed her a quick look. "I'll bear that in mind."
Her smile was enigmatic as she pushed open the reception door and stepped inside.
As luck would have it the motel had rooms a plenty, and they soon found themselves standing outside their respective doors, keys jangling. "I think I'm gonna take a shower," Jack said. "You wanna get some dinner in about half an hour?"
"Sure," Sam replied. "Sounds good." And then, with another little smile she disappeared into her room, leaving Jack outside to regret the fact that the motel was so damn empty!
***
Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, Sam's eyes narrowed. Hair was okay - it never really did what she wanted. Face was pretty good - she'd even managed a little make-up for a change. Clothes - well, couldn't go far wrong with blue-jeans and a white tee-shirt. All in all, not bad in half an hour. And then she frowned and turned away from the mirror, irritated with herself.
"Will you just quit it Sam?" she muttered. "It's not a date."
No it's not, she answered herself silently. But I just want to feel good, that's all. What's wrong with that?
"Just don't get carried away," she warned herself. But the argument was cut short by an abrupt and punctual rap on the door that could only be O'Neill.
"Ready?" he asked as she pulled open the door.
"Starving, actually," she told him closing the door behind her and trying to ignore the way his eyes were lingering on her tee-shirt. She tugged at it self-consciously - it wasn't too tight was it? - and he hurriedly glanced away.
"So what're you hungry for?" he asked as they walked down the stairs to the parking lot.
"As long as it doesn't come out of a ration pack, I don't care," she told him, pleased to hear his quiet laughter.
"Looks like there's a few places over there," he said then, squinting through the darkness to the bright lights further down the strip.
"You want to walk over?" she asked. "I really don't feel like getting back in the car."
"If you think we're up to the trek, Major," he grinned.
"Think we'll make it, sir."
The night air was pleasant as they strolled along and the short walk only served to add a piquancy to her appetite. Both accustomed to making quick decisions, it wasn't long before they were seated opposite each other in a small and friendly diner, a cold beer in hand and a huge basket of chips between them.
"Now this," Jack said, dripping salsa across the table as he pushed a heavily loaded chip into his mouth, "is living!"
Sam grinned, enjoying the taste of her beer and relaxing into the
friendly ambiance. "Yeah it is, isn't it?"
Music was playing in the background and Sam listened to it as they lapsed into silence, her finger tapping gently on the table top. Glancing over at Jack, she suddenly saw a slow smile creep over his face.
"What?" she asked curiously.
He shook his head. "Nothing."
"No," she persisted. "Something - what?"
"Just this song," he said then, his smile broadening into a grin. "It reminds me of someone."
"Who?"
He paused, taking a long swig of his beer before he said, "Lucy Greenburg."
Sam raised an amused eyebrow, but didn't have time to answer because at that moment the waitress arrived with their meals. She waited until they'd been left alone again before she said, "And who is Lucy Greenburg?"
Jack's eyes twinkled as he said, "Spring break nineteen-seventy..." he thought for a moment, "seventy-three."
"Your first love?" Sam asked, meeting the mirth in his eyes with a smile of her own.
"Not love," Jack assured her, "but, um, definitely my first."
"I see!" Sam replied, her grin broadening. "So, let's see - seventy- three, that would make you...sixteen?"
"And three weeks."
"Precocious."
He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. "What about you?"
She blinked. "Sir?"
"Who was your first...love?"
She dropped her gaze to her food for a moment. "Not sure that I've ever had a first love," she told him, her words drawing his dark eyes to hers and holding them there. "But the *first* was James Kelly." She thought for a moment, "And that would be eighty-seven."
Jack nearly choked on his burger. "Eighty-seven?!"
"Junior year at college," she told him. "Why?"
He shook his head, taking a drink. "Just making me feel old, Carter," he said quietly. "Remember that little incident I told you about? With the parachute not opening and the broken bones in the desert?" She nodded. "That was eighty-seven."
"A memorable year for us both, then," she said with a mischievous grin.
"I think I'd prefer your memories to mine," he replied.
But she shook her head. "He really wasn't that good, sir."
***
'Damn, she looks beautiful!' The thought popped into Jack's head before he had time to repress it, and he couldn't deny its truth. Her blue eyes were sparkling, her cheeks rosy as they talked and laughed together - and that smile! It melted every bone in his body and stirred a few things it shouldn't.
They were ambling back towards their motel through the warm evening air and Jack found himself wondering for the hundredth time why he'd done it, why he'd invited her along. What the hell had he been thinking? That they'd have fun? Well they were - a little too much. And then what? Well, the truth was he hadn't really thought that far ahead. He'd just known that he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could, that was all. He hadn't expected anything to happen between them because nothing should, nothing *could* happen between them. Yet every moment he'd spent in her company today seemed to have turned his expectation of nothing slowly and surely into a hope of *something*. It was easy to maintain the fiction at work, to call the growing affection he felt for her camaraderie and to pretend that the subtle tension that existed between them was nothing more than harmless, meaningless flirtation. But it wasn't. It was a hell of a lot more than that and he knew it. They both did.
And as they walked side by side, almost close enough to touch, he was certain that if he reached out for her hand she wouldn't object. There was something in the air, a sort of unreality drawn from being away from the SGC and all its attendant rules and regulations, that let him imagine for a moment that they were an ordinary couple on the verge of moving their relationship from friendship to something infinitely more profound.
Carter's voice broke the moment. "Penny for them, sir?" she asked, glancing up at him with that sunshine smile of hers.
He shook his head. "Classified, Major," he told her.
"Really?" her tone was speculative and flirtatious and did nothing to help him keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow.
Deciding it would be better to change the subject he said, "So how far did we get on the list of life-shaping events?"
"I think we just finished high-school," she replied. "You were telling me about the prom and the spiked punch."
He grinned. "Ah yes. Well, not exactly life-shaping but still funny...."
"Huh," she muttered. "You know, I hated guys like you in high school." Then, flinging him an apologetic smile, she said "No offense."
"What do you mean 'guys like me'?" he asked her, watching her face intently.
She shrugged. "Well, I'm guessing you were probably in the football team or..."
"Whoa!" he stopped her. "Football? Me? Come on!"
"Okay," she conceded, her eyes narrowing. "Hockey?"
"Well, yeah. I guess."
She nodded. "Probably hated classes - especially science class?"
He frowned. "Kinda."
"And probably *really* hated those geeky kids who sat in front and always had their homework done on time, right?"
He smiled. "Yeah, well they deserved it - never put a foot wrong, always had their nose in a book instead of having fun, showing us up with their perfect little GPAs and...." He broke off mid flow to discover that Carter had stopped walking and was standing watching him with her arms folded and one eyebrow raised. "Oh," he said as realization dawned.
"Yeah," she nodded. "That was me."
"No," he shook his head. "I mean...." Hmmm, okay now get out of this one Jack! "I'm sure I'd have adored you in High School."
Her lips quirked into a smile. "Leaving aside the fact that I was still in grade school when you graduated sir," she said, making him wince a little, "you'd have hated me. And I'd have hated you."
"No," he persisted. "Look at you! You're smart, funny, beautiful! How could I have hated you when I...." He stopped himself short, suddenly realizing he was heading in a forbidden direction.
That she'd noticed his slip was evident by the look of surprise on her face, but she recovered herself quickly and said, "Let me paint you a picture, sir."
"Okay."
She thought for a moment. "Samantha Carter - sixteen, five ten, long straggly hair and as skinny and gangly as a boy. No friends because she never stayed in one place more than a couple months, nose in a book and a GPA of 4.0." She flashed him a challenging glance, "Still think we'd have been friends?"
He was silent for a moment, not sure what to say. They stood by the edge of the road now, just across from their motel. It was dark but her face was illuminated by the glow of a nearby streetlight and he'd never seen her look more beautiful. "Well, you know," he murmured at last, stepping closer but resisting the urge to take hold of her hand, "I wasn't the smartest of kids. But it would've been my loss."
She shook her head. "Don't feel sorry for me, sir," she told him, another smile tugging at her lips.
"I don't," he assured her hurriedly. "I feel sorry for me! Who knows how many cute scientists I overlooked?"
She shook her head again, but this time her beautiful smile broke free. "You know," she said, glancing up at him, "sometimes you can actually be - almost - charming."
It was his turn to smile. "Well, you always have brought out the best in me, Carter." Her smile faded as their eyes locked and for a moment he saw into her heart, and what he saw there set him ablaze. Despite his good intentions he reached for her hand. "I'm glad we're friends now," he told her quietly. "I can't imagine the last three years without you, Sam."
She just nodded and squeezed her fingers around his own before gently pulling her hand away. "Yeah," she murmured. "It's been the best."
"Still is."
She nodded again before dropping his gaze and glancing over towards the motel. "We should probably turn in," she suggested. "We should get an early start in the morning."
They were pulling back from the brink and a part of him was glad, despite the disappointment that flattened his heart. "Yeah," he agreed as they started across the road together. "We should leave by, what? Seven?"
"Sounds good."
"Breakfast?"
"Eat on the road," she decided.
Jack shrugged. "Okay."
As they stopped outside his door and he fumbled for the keys in his pocket an awkward silence fell. He glanced up at her and saw her gazing back out over the parking lot. "I, um," he said, tapping the key against his fingers, "I had a good time today."
She nodded, turning back towards him. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Me too."
"See you in the morning, Carter."
She smiled. "Night, sir."
***
The TV burbled in the background as Sam padded around her room with wet hair and damp skin, trying to decide what to wear. Outside the sun was already warming the air and she guessed they would be blessed with one of those beautiful early fall days that seemed more like summer. Smiling to herself, her spirits bubbling, she slipped into shorts and turned her head upside down to dry her hair. She was happy, there was no denying it. She was on vacation, she was having fun and she was happy. And it felt good.
Through the thin motel wall she heard keys jangling and a door slam; Jack was already heading for the car. Glancing at her watch she saw that it was past seven, so stuffed the rest of her gear hurriedly into her pack and slipped on a tank-top and her sneakers. Land of sky blue waters, she thought merrily, here I come!
The early morning air was cool against her skin as she stepped outside, but the sun held the promise of a hot day to come. Trotting down the steps to the parking lot she was aware of Jack leaning against the hood of his car, watching her through his inscrutable sunglasses, and her smile broadened. 'You're smart, funny, beautiful!' He'd said that, about her! Smart, funny and beautiful!
"Morning, Carter," he called as she approached.
"Hi, sir," she grinned. "Sleep well?"
"Like a baby."
"Good," she nodded, dropping her pack to the floor and reaching for her own sunglasses. "Want me to drive?"
Jack shrugged. "Sure," he said and threw her the keys.
By mid-morning they were off the interstate and Sam was following Jack's directions. "Left at the next intersection," he was saying as they sped through the open country, the only vehicle on the road.
"How far's that?"
"About an hour."
She shook her head. "Well, remind me," she suggested, reaching for her Pepsi. "We got any M&Ms left?"
"You know," he said as he poured the candies into her out-stretched hand, "I never knew you ate so much junk, Carter."
She laughed. "I'm on vacation, sir!"
"So?"
She flashed him a smile. "So I get to bend the rules."
Jack raised an eyebrow at her words and smiled slowly, but said nothing. And neither did Sam, although her heart did a little back- flip at the crooked smile on his face. 'Nothing's going to happen,' she told herself as she drove. 'Nothing *can* happen.' But somehow, in the late-summer sunshine, driving along the open road with her spirits soaring, the good sense she talked to herself under the weight of the mountain and the regulations seemed to evaporate like a morning mist. She smiled, unable to quell her bubbling spirits.
It was late afternoon by the time the car crawled up the uneven track towards the cabin. The route was obscure and Jack's confident navigation told her that he was familiar with the place. But at last they emerged from the trees and Sam saw the lake glittering in the sunshine before her. "Wow," she breathed, stopping the car a little behind the small wooden cabin. "This is beautiful."
"Yeah," Jack said as he climbed out of the car. "What did I tell you?"
Leaving everything in the car, Sam headed immediately down to the lake. Trees lined most sides, but in front of the cabin a small wooden dock jutted out into the water and a little boat nestled at the end. The sun was already low in the sky and it gilded the lake's waters as it began to dip behind the trees, sending golden ripples across the surface. The air was still, but alive with the sound of cicadas and scented by the forest that surrounded them on all sides. Taking in a deep breath, Sam could almost feel the fresh air drain the worries and stresses of her life away as she gazed out over the water.
"You know, Carter," Jack said quietly, "I swear I can actually *see* you relaxing!"
Turning to him she grinned and watched her smile prompt one of his own. "And to think," she sighed, "I could have been stuck in my lab with a naquada reactor!"
Jack's smile broadened as he stepped closer, fixing her with those dark eyes of his and Sam found that she couldn't look away. He didn't say anything, but she felt a sudden heat ignite between them and knew that some invisible barrier had been breached. Her heart started racing as she smiled into his eyes, not sure if she was afraid that he would or that he wouldn't reach out for her. His hand twitched and she found herself leaning closer, when, at the last moment he dropped her gaze and cleared his throat. "Um, we should probably get inside," he muttered, "or we'll get eaten alive by the mosquitos."
Sam just nodded, her heart too near her throat for conversation.
***
Inside, the cabin was relaxed and cozy in a simple way. And Sam knew immediately that this place was Jack's. Dropping her pack by the door she gazed around the small living room at the comfortable furniture and through to the neat little kitchen. "Sir?" she asked. "Do you own this place?"
"Yeah," he replied, as if surprised by the question.
"Huh," she muttered, "they must pay you too much."
She heard him chuckle a little. "Well, actually, it pays for itself most of the year," he told her.
"You rent it out?" she guessed.
"I'm not exactly around enough to use it myself."
Walking over to the large window facing the lake, Sam gazed out at the sun setting spectacularly over the water. "It's really beautiful, sir," she sighed. "You must love it up here."
"Yeah, I do." His voice was a little subdued and she turned back towards him, a question in her eyes. But he wasn't looking at her, instead he was picking up her pack and carrying it into another room. "Since you're the guest," he called out to her, "you can have the lake view."
"Sir, you don't have to...," she assured him.
"Done," he said, returning with a smile. "Now - how about dinner? Don't know about you, Carter, but I'm starving!"
Suddenly the thought of food sounded too good to resist. "I'll fetch the groceries from the car," she offered, not a little unnerved by this strange pseudo-domesticity. She almost felt as if they were playing a game, testing something without acknowledging what they were doing - play-acting something that they were forbidding themselves in reality. But she didn't dwell on the thought, she didn't want to; she was having too much fun pretending.
***
The days passed slowly and lazily in the sunshine. Jack did a little fishing and even managed not to be too disgruntled when Sam landed a fish twice the size of anything he'd caught. He'd muttered darkly about beginner's luck, but nonetheless had prepared and cooked it for them - and it was delicious. But for the most part they just spent time together, enjoying the luxury of each other's company away from the restrictions of their military ranks. And although their professional relationship imposed a subtle undertone of restraint to everything that passed between them, Sam had never felt more relaxed in his company. And she'd never felt so close to him as she did now, lying in the sunshine, watching him finish a beer and gaze out over the quiet waters of the lake. Something about the intent look on his face reminded her sharply of their first meeting and that thought prompted a question that she'd never had the courage to ask. Until now.
"Sir?" said, her voice drawing his attention immediately. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he replied. "I might not answer, but you can ask."
She smiled but said nothing for a moment, turning her head to gaze up into the blue sky and almost losing herself in the faint wisps of cloud that drifted lazily overhead. "What did you really think of me, sir," she said at last, still lost in the sky, "when I was first transferred to the SGC?"
Jack shifted a little as he leaned against the tree and she glanced over at him, curious at his discomfort. A small self-conscious smile was playing around his mouth in a way Sam found rather too endearing for comfort. But before she could look away he said, "Well, I guess I thought you were gonna complicate things, Carter."
She nodded. "Because I'm a scientist?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "And because you were obviously smarter than me."
Sam smiled at that, shaking her head slightly. "And did I?" she asked him. "Complicate things?"
Jack took a long swig of his beer before he answered. "Oh, yeah," he said then, fixing her with a look that hid nothing. "You complicated things a whole lot, Carter. Just not in the way I'd imagined."
Their gaze locked as she lay in the long grass, watching him. And she knew they were on the verge of something, of admitting something that was best left unsaid. She told herself to look away, to move and break the moment, but she couldn't. She couldn't because she didn't want to. Something about the place, about the warm sunshine on her face, seemed to melt the cold hard realities from her life. Regulations seemed a whole world away as she lay there with her heart racing, wanting and fearing what was to come.
But in the end it was Jack who backed away. He broke his gaze and glanced out at the sunshine dancing on the lake and said, "So how about you, Carter? What did you think of me?"
It took her a moment to swallow her disappointment and to tell herself that she was relieved. Sitting up she wrapped her arms around her knees and followed his gaze out over the water, thinking about how to answer him. "I guess," she said, "you pretty much lived up to my expectations, sir."
He cast her a sideways glance. "And what did you expect?"
"The usual," she told him, deciding to be honest. "Resistance, doubt about my abilities, the inevitable jokes and innuendoes...."
"Hey!" he objected, looking genuinely hurt. "I never did any of those!"
"No," she agreed. "But we're talking about first impressions, right? And that's what I thought, when you were standing there trying to get Hammond to drop me from the team - again."
She was aware that a note of bitterness had crept into her voice and frowned, irritated at herself for letting it spoil the beautiful afternoon. Smoothing the frown from her face she looked over at Jack, but he'd caught her mood and was watching her curiously and she knew that he wasn't going to let it drop. "What do you mean, 'again'?" he asked.
Sam sighed. "Oh," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "It's just - you know - I should have gone with you the first time. To Abydos. That was *my* mission, but...." She sighed, not really wanting to get into it.
"But?" he prompted.
"But *someone* on the project vetoed my application."
"It wasn't me," he said immediately. "I'd never heard of Sam Carter until that day you walked into the briefing room, guns blazing."
Sam laughed at the image of herself. "Guess I did come on a little strong, didn't I?"
"Maybe," he agreed, taking another drink. "But if I remember right I was behaving like a jerk myself, so I guess we're even."
"Guess so," she nodded. "I still wish I'd been with you on Abydos though. I should have been the first one through - I'd earned a place on that team."
"You know, Sam," Jack said quietly, surprising her by his use of her first name. "I'm glad you weren't."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Why?"
His expressive face twitched a little in discomfort. "I, um...," he began. "Did Daniel ever tell you about that mission? I mean, about...me?"
Sam couldn't hold his gaze, suddenly aware that she was treading on tender ground. "A little," she confessed.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Well, then I guess you know I wasn't exactly myself. It was only a couple of months since Charlie…." He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm glad you didn't see me like that, Carter." There was nothing she could say and so she remained silent, giving him room to speak. "You know," he continued quietly, toying with the label on his beer bottle, "I thought that mission was going to be my last - but it turned out to be the first." He glanced up at her then and she was astonished by the depth of emotion in his eyes; he was usually so closed, so guarded. "I didn't know it then," he said, "but it was the start of a life I couldn't have imagined."
"Through the Stargate?"
"Well, that," he agreed with a small smile. "But I never imagined I could feel this happy again, Carter." For some reason that simple statement took her breath away. "You know," he added, "I told you once that I hadn't been myself since I met you. Remember that?" Sam nodded mutely, the memory an unpleasant one. "Well, I meant it," he said. "I don't know where I'd be without you - you, and Daniel and Teal'c - I feel like you brought me back to life."
She sighed softly, reaching out and touching his hand. "Then I guess things were just meant to work out this way, sir."
"This way?" His eyes burned with a single, unspoken question as he laced his fingers through hers.
Her heart was racing, the heat in his expression rivaled only by the sudden fire in her heart. "We make a good team," she elaborated, pulling her hand free in an effort to regain control of her overflowing emotions; her turn to pull back. "SG-1 I mean."
He nodded, a deliberate, controlled movement, as if he too were struggling against impulses he knew to be wrong. "Yeah, we do," he agreed. "We make a hell of a team, Sam."
***
The final day of their trip dawned bright, but chill. Fall was at last demanding to be taken seriously and a frost had bitten in the night, lacing the world with a delicate filigree of ice. As he lay in bed, Jack gazed up through the frosted window at the tree branches swaying in the breeze and let their gentle rustle soothe him.
He was sad that their time together was drawing to a close, and yet a little relieved too. On more than one occasion he'd found himself a heartbeat away from doing something stupid, something unconscionable that would have altered their relationship forever. And yet it was so enchantingly tempting that even thinking of it now made him ache for her. And he was old and wise enough to know that the desire was mutual, therefore doubly dangerous.
Shaking his head, Jack threw the covers off and sat up. He wanted her. Physically, yes, but that wasn't the half of it. If he'd started this trip feeling an attraction, a curiosity, and a desire to know more about her, he was ending it in the certain knowledge that he loved her. More than that, he was in love with her. He wasn't sentimental about it, there were no hearts and roses floating in his head. He simply knew it. He'd been in love before and, against all the odds and against all his expectations, he was in love again. There was no avoiding it, no hiding from it. All he had to do was try to ignore it and keep it from a disapproving world. "Huh," he muttered to himself, "is that all?"
He knew that once they got back to the SGC, surrounded by the trappings of the military, his task would be easier. But here, up- close and personal, trying to ignore how he felt about her was proving...difficult. And, most frustratingly of all, he knew that were it not for the ranks that separated them she'd be in his arms right now. "Damn it," he sighed as he swung his legs out of bed, wincing as his feet touched the cold wooden floor. "You're too old for this, Jack O'Neill." He shivered a little in the cold morning air and reached for his clothes; a shower could wait until the place had warmed up!
The smell of brewing coffee and toast greeted him as he stepped into the living room, provoking a wistful smile. He'd missed that. These last few years, alone, he'd missed someone else in the house in the mornings; there was something so warm, so intimate about sharing breakfast. Glancing into the kitchen he looked for Carter, but she wasn't there. And then he heard a little sound from behind the sofa and saw her kneeling on the floor next to the fireplace. Logs had been neatly and efficiently stacked, but remained unlit as Carter rummaging through the draw of the dresser looking for matches. He was about to speak when he saw which drawer was open, and realized that she was sitting still, staring at something in her hands. A flash of painful emotion seared his heart, buffeting him with confusion as two worlds abruptly collided.
"Hey!" he snapped, before he knew what he was saying, causing Carter to start guiltily and almost drop what she held.
"Sir!" she stammered, getting to her feet. "I was...looking for some matches.... I'm sorry."
He crossed the small room in a couple of strides and pulled the photograph from her hands. "That's personal," he muttered, not looking at the picture he held. He knew what it was. Who it was.
"I'm sorry, sir," she repeated, clearly upset. "I didn't mean to pry."
"It's okay," he told her, still sounding sharp and tense. "I know. It's just...private." 'Even from her?' he asked himself. 'Especially from her', came the reply. Carter was part of his new life, the life that had grown out of the ashes of the old. The two couldn't mix. It was too hard, too complicated. He loved her with a fierce loyalty that stood uneasily alongside the memories of his family; he'd loved Sara too, and Charlie. But had they still been here, Sam wouldn't be; the thought was disturbing and unsettling in its implications.
As his mind roamed along the paths of guilt and regret, the silence between them grew long and awkward. Carter shifted uncomfortably and at last she quietly spoke. "It's a great photo, sir. You should keep it out someplace."
"It's fine where it is," he replied, pulling his mind back into focus. But he didn't let go of the picture and as the first wave of shock subsided he found his anger fading. But the pain was as fresh as ever and slowly, guilty for using her like this, Jack glanced up and sought comfort in her eyes.
She was unstinting. "The fish is almost as big as Charlie," she smiled, reaching for the photo again. He let her take it from him and turned his eyes slowly and reluctantly towards the smiling face of his son. "He looks as pleased as punch," she added.
"He was," he replied slowly, sadly. "He was a natural. He loved...." He sucked in a deep breath, "He loved it up here."
Carter just nodded, her eyes riveted on the photograph. "It's a great picture," she repeated, "you all look really happy."
"Yeah," he sighed, "we were."
"When was it taken?"
Close to the bone, the question hurt. "Couple of months before...." Carter raised her eyes, strong and full of compassion they gave him the courage to continue. "A couple of months before Charlie died," he finished slowly, making himself say the words to prove to himself that he could. "The last time we were all up here."
It hurt and he saw his pain reflected in Carter's eyes as she nodded and reached out a hand to touch his arm. "It looks like a happy memory," she said softly. "It's a shame to hide it away."
He nodded, taking the picture from her hand. "Maybe someday," he said, laying it back in the drawer, "I won't need to. But right now...." He shook his head. "Four years isn't long, Carter."
She sighed softly. "No, sir," she agreed. "I guess it isn't." And then, after a pause she added, "I really didn't mean to intrude, sir - I was looking for the matches and...."
"It's okay," he assured her, his smile returning as he swallowed the familiar pain. "I think there're some in the kitchen."
Silently she moved passed him, but at the last moment he caught her hand and stopped her. "Sam?"
"Sir?" she asked, her fingers tentative in his grasp. Apprehensive.
"Thanks," he said, wanting to say so much more. Thanks for caring, thanks for understanding. Thanks for letting me love you. Thanks.
She smiled, a small questioning smile. "For what?"
"For being here."
His words had affected her, he could tell by the sudden brightness in her eyes, and he hoped she understood all that he was trying to say. "It's been fun," she told him quietly. "I'm glad I came."
And then she pulled her hand from his and hurried into the kitchen to find the matches, and he watched her go with love and regret.
***
Despite the chill in the air they found themselves sitting outside that night, making the most of the lake and the starry sky reflected on its still surface. Its silence and peace were absorbing and Sam found herself wishing she could stay there forever, watching the moonlight cast the trees in pale shadows and listening to the wind whisper in their leaves. It was magical. She could understand why Jack loved it up there so much; she didn't think she'd felt so at peace anywhere.
By her side, on the wooden bench they shared, she heard him stir and sigh as he gazed out over the water from beneath the peak of his familiar cap. "Penny for them, sir?" she asked, not for the first time over the past few days. Jack O'Neill had a tendency towards introspection that had always peaked her curiosity.
His mouth twitched into that lop-sided smile of his and he said, "Just thinking about work."
She laughed quietly. "The worst thing about a vacation is getting back to reality afterwards."
"Especially when it's been this much fun," he agreed quietly. He didn't look at her when he spoke but she understood the depth to his words; the days they'd spent together had drawn them close, closer than was entirely proper, and tomorrow would see an end to all that. Reality for them meant rules, regulations, and all that they entailed for the feelings that were blossoming between them.
She shared his regret, but didn't want to spend their last evening dwelling on it. Instead she said, "Still, I guess it's not a bad job, all things considered."
"I guess not," he agreed, catching her lighter mood. "And the hours are great."
"Not to mention the travel perks."
"And the health plan."
She found herself grinning. "I can't imagine myself doing anything else."
He nodded. "Me neither."
They lapsed into a companionable silence and Sam found her mind wondering as she finished her beer. She really couldn't imagine her life being any different to how it was, and yet...? Sitting forward she grabbed another beer from the cooler and pried off the lid. "Do you ever wonder, sir?" she asked quietly. "What you'd be doing if you hadn't joined the military?"
He glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Never really thought about it," he confessed. And then he shook his head a little. "I have no idea what I'd be doing. No idea."
"Really?" she asked, not convinced by his answer. "Isn't there something else you'd like to have done? Something different?"
His face scrunched in thought and after a moment he said, "Well, I guess I'd would've kinda liked to have been an internationally famous hockey star."
Sam grinned. "Of course!"
"How about you?" he asked then, shifting a little to get a better look at her face. "If you hadn't been *Major* Carter, who'd you have been?"
She shrugged. "That's easy," she replied. "I'd have been Professor Carter - academic. Probably locked up in an ivory tower someplace." "Well, *that* would've been a waste," O'Neill said, his dark eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
"Thanks," she said quietly, a little unnerved by the intensity of his gaze.
But he didn't look away, even as he swallowed another mouthful of beer. "I know one thing I'd have done," he said then, "if I hadn't been *Colonel* O'Neill?"
"Oh?" she asked, watching the dangerous humor dancing in his eyes. "What's that?"
He paused for a moment, his gaze intent. "I'd have asked for your number," he said then.
Sam's breath caught in her throat. They were sailing close to the wind and the exhilaration was threatening to sweep away all her good sense; she knew she should change the subject, move onto safer ground, but she was feeling reckless. Her usual caution had been undermined by the night air, the stars, and the undeniable magic of the place. And so instead she said, "You still think we'd have met, sir? If we weren't military?"
"Sure," he replied, still watching her with a smile in his eyes. "We'd have met at...," he shrugged. "Some kind of charity dinner for hockey players and astrophysicists."
Sam giggled at the idea. "Really?"
"Really. And I'd have seen your smile from across the room and not been able to stop myself from asking if I could call you."
Sam felt her heart start to trip lightly in her chest. 'My smile?' she thought. 'He thinks I have a nice smile?' Self-consciously she felt her lips twitch into a grin. "Well, I guess I'd have given you my number," she told him quietly. "With a line like that."
It was a game, she knew it was a game, but nonetheless she saw relief in his face as she spoke. Relief combined with something else, something warmer and hungrier. But all he said was, "I'd have called you the next day and asked you for a date."
Her move. They were acting like kids, each daring the other to go further, take another step onto the thin ice. She licked her suddenly dry lips and saw the subtle flicker of his eyes towards her mouth, a flash of desire igniting in their depths. Slightly breathless she said, "What kind of date would we have gone on?
He frowned again. "Let's see," he said thoughtfully, "something fun, not to cliched...." And then he grinned. "Hockey match."
"To watch you play?" Are you serious?!
"No!" he objected immediately. "We'd see some local game - sit real close, because you know it gets kinda cold in those places." He grinned wolfishly. "And you probably wouldn't have dressed right - professors don't know a whole lot about hockey - so I'd have had to let you wear my lucky sweater."
Sam couldn't help smiling at the thought. "You have a lucky sweater, sir?"
"Sure," he nodded. "Don't you?"
Shaking her head she said, "Sounds like we would've had fun."
"Yeah," he agreed, moving a little closer to her on the seat they shared. "We'd have had a blast. In fact, we'd have had so much fun we'd have probably gone on someplace after to grab dinner."
"Mmmmm," she murmured, losing herself in the fantasy. "Sounds good. Anywhere special?"
"Italian?" he asked. "I know a great place - and since I'd be such a famous sporting hero, we'd be guaranteed a table."
"Sure," Sam agreed, flinging him a speculative smile. "It's probably where you'd take all your dates."
He didn't answer immediately, just smiled a slow, steady smile that slammed right into her heart. "Only the very special ones," he said quietly.
For a moment she could say nothing, entranced by the fire in his eyes. The game was getting dangerous, but she didn't want to stop playing, not yet. Just a little longer, just a little further... "And then what?" she asked softly. "After dinner?"
"I guess," he said slowly, his eyes not leaving her face as he moved closer, "I guess I'd have driven you home."
Sam nodded, her heart racing as she said, "I'd have invited you in for coffee."
"I *love* coffee."
They left it there for a while, their gaze locked. He was watching her with such intensity, such naked desire that her breath almost failed her. And she knew without doubt that the delicate threads of professionalism and duty that kept them apart had stretched so taut that a single word, from either of them, could snap them in two. And oh, how she wanted to say the word. How she ached to close the gap between them, to reach out and touch him. But she dared not; some vestige of her good sense survived amid the heat that blazed between them and held her silent. Yet neither could she pull herself away from the longing she saw in his eyes, reflecting the desires of her own heart. And so instead she whispered, "And then what?"
"And then...," he murmured, leaning closer still, the heat in his gaze melting her. "And then I'd have kissed you."
Oh God! She didn't move and neither did he - and the torture was excruciating. They simply sat gazing into each others eyes, the kiss drifting in the cold air between them as they lost themselves in the longing that flooded their hearts. How she stopped herself from falling into his arms, Sam never knew. But she did. And after a long, long moment she wrenched her eyes from his and turned away, shivering with unspent desire.
She heard him suck in a ragged breath and after a few minutes he said, "If only, huh?"
"Yeah," she replied, refusing to look at him. She wanted him too much to risk it, knowing that her resolve was paper thin. Torn between desire, frustration and anger at the whole wretched situation, Sam forced herself to her feet. "I'm gonna turn in," she told him, her arms wrapping protectively around her chest.
"Yeah," he sighed quietly, sadly. "'Night, Carter."
She nodded, feeling his eyes burning into her but unable to meet the intensity of their gaze once more. "'Night, sir."
***
As he emerged from his bedroom the next morning, Jack noticed Sam's bag already neatly packed and stacked ready to go by the door. He wasn't sure why exactly, but the sight only added to the gray of the day. Glancing into the living room he saw her sitting on the sofa, a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other, while outside rain pattered in an uneven rhythm on the windows and roof. Mist hugged the far side of the lake so that the flat, gray water appeared to drift slowly into a shadowy oblivion. It was a good day to be going home.
"Hey," he said quietly, a little unsure how things stood between them after what had so very nearly happened the previous night.
Half-turning at the sound of his voice, Carter muttered over her shoulder, "Morning, sir. There's coffee in the kitchen if you want some."
Nodding at the back of her head, Jack padded into the kitchen and poured himself a coffee. Staring out at the rain as he sipped thoughtfully at his drink, he didn't hear Carter's quiet approach until she said, "I think the weather's trying to tell us something, sir."
He smiled and turned slowly around. "What's that?" he asked.
"That we need to get back to reality," she said quietly, meeting his gaze with serious eyes. "That it's time to stop playing games and get back to work."
Jack nodded and stared down at the steam curling up from the surface of his coffee. "Guess the game got a little out of hand last night?" he said quietly, not looking at her.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Guess it did."
"We, um...," he began, watching her from beneath his brow. "We probably shouldn't play dangerous games like that. Someone might get hurt."
Carter nodded, chewing slightly on her lower lip. "It's definitely not the sort of game you should play unless you know what you're doing, sir," she said at last, watching him with a question in her eyes. "And I'm not sure we did, this time. Did we?"
Uncertain how to answer, Jack evaded her question with one of his own. "Does that mean you think that we'll play again, sometime?"
"I don't know, sir," she replied with a slight shake of her head. And then, almost despite herself, a smile flashed across her face and she glanced down self-consciously. "I hope so," she added quietly.
Jack found himself grinning at the shy warmth in her smile as he said, "Yeah, so do I, Carter. So do I."
***
Procrastination. He was great at it. A kind of master, really. Reports to write? Hell, he'd find ten reasons why he needed to clear out his locker, or check his kit, or strip down and clean his MP-5. Anything. Jack O'Neill was the supreme master of procrastination. Which was why he found himself standing in line for coffee in the cafeteria, instead of doing the one thing that had been on his mind almost constantly since he'd gotten back from his fishing trip. But hey, a guy needed breakfast, right? And anyway, she probably wasn't even in yet. It was early and he knew for a fact that she wasn't due in until nine. Not that he'd gone out of his way to find that out. Why would he? Fact was, he just knew. He was her CO, it was his job to know these things. Right?
"Hey Jack," Daniel called from across the room, only favoring his right side a little as he walked. "How was the trip?"
"Great," he replied guardedly. "How's the scar?"
Daniel nodded. "A little sore, but healing." He paused for a moment. "So, who caught the biggest fish?"
Jack frowned. He had a certain image to protect. "I did...."
"Really?" Daniel nodded, obviously impressed. "Funny - that's not what Sam says."
He blinked. "You've seen her this morning?"
"Sure. She was in early, working on her naquada reactor, and she says that she caught the...."
"She didn't see the one that got away," he interrupted, his mind suddenly distracted by the idea that she was here. She was here already. On the premises. A couple of rooms away. He took a deep breath; no time like the present.
"Here," Jack said, handing Daniel his coffee. "It's yours."
"What?"
"Bye Daniel," he muttered and headed out the door. He'd had two whole nights to think this through and he wasn't backing down now. He had to ask, there was nothing for it. He just had to ask.
***
Sam found the work therapeutic. The need to concentrate on what she was doing, on where she was placing every component, forced her mind off the single track it had obsessively occupied for the last three days. It was relaxing, a relief not to have to think about him and about what had so nearly happened between them. And about how much she wished that it had.
"Carter!"
His voice startled her out of her musings and she found herself breathless as she turned around. "Sir! Hi!"
He smiled. "What ya doing?"
"Oh, I'm just...."
"Actually," he interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "Forget I asked."
She smiled, she couldn't help herself. "Yes, sir." He didn't say anything then, just stood shifting a little awkwardly in the doorway, one hand in his pocket. After a moment he pulled his hand out and she saw that he was holding a piece of paper. "Is there something I can help you with, sir?" she asked.
He nodded, still not speaking as he tapped the paper against his other hand. "Actually, yes," he said at last. He looked up at her then, smiled a little and said, "I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow night?"
Sam frowned, not quite understanding. "Well, I have some of my own work I need to catch up on," she told him, "but is there something you need me to do first, sir?"
He nodded again and held out the paper towards her. "Hockey tickets," he said, hopeful and slightly fearful.
"Oh," she replied, dumbfounded. "Wow." Was he asking her on a date? A date!
"I, um...," he said nervously. "I asked Teal'c but he can't make it. And you know how Daniel feels about hockey. So, I was wondering...?"
"Is that an invitation, sir?" she asked, unable to keep the smile from her eyes even if she managed to school her face into seriousness.
"What's wrong with that?" he shot back. "Couple of friends..." He trailed to a halt, clearly aware that he was kidding no one. Instead he gave her a crooked smile, "I'll let you wear my lucky sweater," he promised. "I'll even buy dinner."
Shaking her head, Sam said, "Sir, I don't think it would be...."
"That's okay!" he said abruptly, brightly. Too brightly. It did nothing to conceal his disappointment. "Don't sweat it. I'll go ask Hammond. Or ol' Doc Fraiser...." And he was out the door before she had time to draw breath. But she only hesitated a moment before she followed him.
"Colonel?" she called.
He turned, watching her with a speculative look in his eyes. "Major?"
"I heard that Siler was a hockey fan."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Lasagna," he suggested. "Fettuccini, tagliatelle...tiramizu...."
And then, mid sentence, he disappeared in a flash of white Asgard light. Sam stared for a single, stunned moment before she dashed for the emergency phone and raised the alarm. Dinner, she guessed, was off. For now.
The end!
Story Notes: Email: reevesally@hotmail.com
Classification: S/J UST, friendship – slight angst.
Spoilers: "Nemesis"
Archive: SJA and Heliopolis. Anyone else, please just ask so I can find you!
Notes: Thanks once again to Marcy for beta reading this, and to Becci for her brilliant transcribing of the first couple of scenes of "Nemesis"! After all the angst of my last story (Crossing the Line) I thought I'd go for something a little lighter…! I hope you enjoy it!
Classification: S/J UST, friendship – slight angst.
Spoilers: "Nemesis"
Archive: SJA and Heliopolis. Anyone else, please just ask so I can find you!
Notes: Thanks once again to Marcy for beta reading this, and to Becci for her brilliant transcribing of the first couple of scenes of "Nemesis"! After all the angst of my last story (Crossing the Line) I thought I'd go for something a little lighter…! I hope you enjoy it!
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 ]