Jack hadn’t really ‘done’ Easter lately. Come to think of it, he’d had troubles with religion for the past ten years, ever since that gunshot had gone off upstairs. So Easter, being more deeply entrenched in Christianity than Christmas (which had a preoccupation with a certain jolly fat man), had been a bit of an issue. When he’d been with Sara it had just been a given that they’d give something up for Lent (he’d stopped trying to count the number of times he’d said he’d give up smoking for that 40 days), then on Easter Sunday the three of them would traipse off to church before Lunch with her parents. When her mother had died, it seemed to have fortified his Father-In-Law’s efforts at maintaining the tradition. But then Charlie had died in February and nobody dared mention the idea of a ‘family’ Easter. Come to think of it, nobody had mentioned a ‘family’ anything.
It had never been a question with his new family of SG-1, then again, now he thought about it – that may have been because they were never on earth for Easter. It was never a conscious decision, they never went out of their way to avoid it - it just happened that SG-1 would be "out of the country" around March/April and inevitably, it usually ended up that they'd miss Easter. So it wasn't until he had become The Man that they started to think about it.
A quiet word to Daniel ensured that he wouldn't be asked to go to church - that was something he still wasn't ready to deal with yet. "Lunch?" The archaeologist asked one day with a shrug. "A get together, if you will?"
Jack had smirked, and Carter had smiled. "You've been around the General too long," she had murmured.
Daniel raised an eyebrow and Jack began to wonder just how much like each other they had all become. There was a certain amount of Teal’c in the look Daniel was giving him at the moment and he had to smirk.
“My place,” He said, “I’ll see if Cassie can make it home, Carter you bring Pete-“(see, he knew the potato-man’s name), “Daniel bring the drinks and I’ll take care of the Easter part.”
“You mean the chocolate?” Sam asked with one of those small smiles that made him feel 17 again.
He just nodded sagely, “What else?”
So he had about a week to get used to the idea that, once again, he was doing Easter. But this was the SGC so the chance that he would actually have time to get his head around the idea, let alone organise everything, was nothing short of laughable. Monday to Tuesday was spent orchestrating the release of SG-9 from the clutches of a matriarchal society described in Major Harrison’s report as “Xena times about a hundred”. Wednesday was the day all the requestion forms had to be done by, so he’d apparently asked Sergeant Harriman to lock him in his office until they were done. Thursday was relatively quiet; he only had to spend four hours on the phone to the President to negotiate the latest relocation of the Jaffa resistance and another six meeting every single SG Team Leader to go through the monthly team evaluations.
By Friday he was about ready to just forget the idea of Easter, go home and drink himself to sleep. At about two he barked to Harriman that he was getting lunch whether the world was ending or not, closed his door and concentrated entirely on the Mac and Cheese he’d snuck from the kitchens.
A quiet knock on his door and he could only roll his eyes. The door opened and he barked, “Walter, I told you! I want to eat!”
The door kept opening before he was faced with the very welcome second in command of the base. “Sir?”
“Carter! Come in!” He stood up as she stepped into the room completely. There was something a little worrying in the way she looked so he indicated she take a seat before sitting in the chair next to her. “What’s up?” he asked.
She bit her lip before looking over his desk and smiling at his lunch. “I just wanted to check that … Easter was still happening.”
He shrugged, “As far as I know.”
She nodded and jerked up again, “Well that’s good. I’ll see you later Sir,” she said making her way to the door.
“Carter,” he held out a hand to catch her elbow, stopping her. “What’s wrong?” She gave him a look that reminded him of shiny blue force shields and Tok’ra Barbies. “Carter?”
She just shrugged, “It’s nothing really. I’ve just … avoided Easter for a few years, it’s … weird doing it again.”
“You avoided Easter?”
She just nodded. Then he cracked a small smile, having a feeling he knew where this was coming from. “Okay,” he said and squeezed her elbow in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “I’m not sure why Daniel’s decided to make a big deal out of it this year,” he said, “Probably to celebrate that we’re not in some prison like all the previous years. “ He was glad to see that brought a small smile to her face. (It’s not weird at all that the way to get her to smile was to joke about Alien Prisons … not at all). “But don’t worry about it, it’s really just a BBQ at my place and we’ve done that a hundred times.”
Sam smiled at him again, this one looking a lot more like herself. “Thanks Sir,” she murmured. He just nodded and let her go, still curious over what had shaken her up about Easter.
Despite his best efforts, Easter still came, with all its mixed emotions. He woke on Sunday morning to the sound of knocking on his door as his neighbour, Mrs. Meyers stood on his doorstep with a package in her hands. “Mr. O’Neill,” she smiled at him and passed him the cake tin. “A Simnel Cake,” she told him, “Just as my mother them, and I’ve made for a good thirty years or so”. He thanked her with a soft smile, since moving in about four years ago the widowed Mrs Meyers seemed to have decided to take him in. Which was fine by him, it meant a lot of cake. In return, he did odd jobs around the house for her that she couldn’t do anymore. “How’s Tom?” He asked politely.
She shrugged with a smirk, “Off in London, some painter has his eye I think. I’ve seen some of the paintings … all very dark, lots of blood and swords. Is that something your generation like dear?”
He chuckled and shook his head, “Not particularly.”
She just smiled at him and turned to leave. She looked down the drive and saw the Volvo park by the road in front of his house. “Having guests?”
He nodded, “My team, just coming over for lunch.” He saw Sam get out of her car and wrap a jumper around her shoulders, she hadn’t seen them standing by the door. She took a deep breath and looked up to the sky for a moment, before wiping her eyes and turning to his house. She jumped when she realised they’d been there the whole time, but quickly shook it off and started towards them. He could tell Major Carter was in control now, and he bit his lip, just wanting to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything that could hurt her. (And yes, he knew she’d hurt him if she found out). Mrs. Meyers watched them both for no more than a second before tapping him on the arm, “A slice of that, a cup of tea and a shoulder my dear, that should do it.” Then, with a smile, she wandered off back to her house.
Sam reached him as she was leaving. “Neighbour?”
He nodded and indicated the cake in his hands, “Come in, we’ll get stuck into this.”
He took Mrs Meyers’ advice and made tea (he was surprised he actually had any), handing Sam a cup before taking his own and opening the tin. Mrs Meyers’ cake was a work of art. He knew Simnel Cakes had marzipan cooked inside (so it was melted and tasted like almonds) but she had decorated it with that thick icing and had stamped “Happy Easter” into it so it looked like it had been engraved. “Wow,” Sam murmured. “She’s good”. Jack smiled and nodded.
“She used to be a doctor,” he told her, “But stopped when she had her son Tom so apparently she spent most of her time after that cooking. Something about there being a … methodology to medicine that was a lot like baking.”
She smiled and bit into the cake, a warm grin taking over her entire face as she swallowed. “It’s great,” she smiled. He nodded but just waited. As they sipped tea and ate Simnel cake (he must make sure he told Mrs. Meyers, she would be very proud of him) he just stayed quiet, knowing that she would get to why she was here four hours early when she was ready.
Finally, as Jack began to worry what to do once the tea was gone, she looked at him with that sad look again and he felt his heart plummet to about his knees. “Daniel’s excited isn’t he?” She murmured. “I saw him sneaking chocolate eggs into people’s lockers the other day.”
Jack smirked, he remembered. “I know it’s easier for him, Christmas is so overwhelming that it’s actually easier to block out than Easter. Easter sort of …”
“Sneaks up on people,” Sam finished for him. “Without warning.” He nodded, that was it.
“Easter was … big in my family,” she told him. “We’d go to Church, then have a big lunch, then an Egg Hunt, the whole lot. My Mom … she was … it was a big deal for her. So when Dad said that he might be able to get leave for the holiday, Mom cancelled the trip she was on and came home.” She hung her head and the alarm bells in Jack’s brain started to go haywire. “She was killed on Easter Sunday.”
“Carter,” he whispered and before he could stop himself (though did he really want to?) he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Instead of pushing him away (like that evil part of his brain expected) she curled her fist into his shirt and held on. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered knowing that it wasn’t nearly enough.
After a while, and a seriously soaked shoulder, she pulled back and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I … I have no idea why …”
“Shh Samantha,” he murmured, tucked her hair behind her ear, “It’s okay.”
They sat like that for a while, his arm around her; her head nestled on his shoulders. Finally he kissed her hair and stood up, “Come on, Cass will be here soon.”
She stood up, wiped her eyes and watched him intently as he put their cups in the sink and turned to face her. “Want to hide the chocolate?” He smirked. “We’ll make the kids search for hours.”
Lunch had been fantastic. Cassie had outdone herself in keeping Daniel and Teal’c concentrating on her entirely. She told story after story about her life at college, how Dominic was still the most wonderful guy in the world, how the girls in her dorm were like the girls off some movie they’d never heard of, let alone seen. Jack had sat next to Sam the entire meal and somehow (neither was entirely sure how) his hand had clasped hers and rested them both on his knee. She had looked at him for a moment; saw his smile before squeezing his hand tightly and turning back to the conversation at hand.
The sun has long gone and they sat in the den, drinking coffee and chatting softly. Sam sat on one end of the couch, while Jack sat in the middle and Cassie next to him. It was small enough that even with her legs curled underneath her, Sam’s foot lightly touched Jack’s thigh. “Do you remember Janet’s Egg hunts?” Daniel asked with a giggle.
Jack chuckled, “She was good,” he admitted.
Sam nodded, remembering leading a younger Cassie around the back yard in a desperate search for even one egg. “Yeah, until she told Teal’c to bury them,” Cassie grumbled mid-yawn.
Teal’c inclined his head, “Doctor Frasier was most insistent.”
Cassie curled into Jack’s side, holding him tightly. “I miss her,” she murmured into his shirt in a sad and sleepy voice. Jack was beginning to wonder if there was something about this shirt he should know.
Teal’c stood up and lay a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, “O’Neill, I feel we must depart.”
Jack looked up with a curious look, “Oh?”
“DanielJackson will soon be unconscious, I believe it prudent to take him back to the SGC where he may sleep off the effects of his beverage.”
Jack smirked and nodded, “Good call T, are you okay to get back?”
Teal’c nodded, “We shall be fine O’Neill. Thank you for an enjoyable day.”
With a nod to Sam and Cassie, Teal’c basically lifted Daniel up from his armpits and dragged him out the door. Jack shook his head, wondering vaguely if Cassie even noticed what had happened. He took Sam’s hand and gave it a squeeze before turning back to Cassie. “Come on,” he said to the girl, “Time for bed.” Years and years had taught him that anything sad just got worse the more tired you got and the way Cassie was looking around and holding onto him said that she was reaching that point when the tears might overwhelm her. He took her by the hand and led her to the spare room, tucking her under the covers and smiling. “Get some sleep Cass.”
She nodded, “Night Jack.” Jack knew she was a strong kid, but there weren’t many kids that lost their entire worlds only to loose most of their second one a few years later.
Sam was cleaning up when he got back into the room. She’d piled the plates and cups up in the sink and was about to set to washing them up when he stopped her. “Sam?”
She spun around, almost angrily and glared at him. “Why are you doing that?”
He shrugged, he didn’t really know. He could see the way she was clutching the chair in the kitchen and before another word he walked around the table and stood in front of her. “C’mere,” he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his arms.
She breathed in his scent for a moment before pulling back with a wet smile. “Thanks Sir,” she smiled. He shrugged. “It’s what I’m here for.”
She stepped back, but kept his hand in hers as she leant against the counter. “Thank you for today,” she said. “It was a lot better than I thought it would be.”
Jack nodded, knowing that it could have been a horrible day all round, but aside from Cassie’s exhausted sadness it had been a success. “Where’s Pete?” He asked before he could stop.
Sam didn’t reply, just gave him a look that (okay, he’ll admit it – but just this once) he’d been hoping to get for a good six months now – ever since that stupid day in the lift. That look said everything. That look said I’ve come to my senses, now your turn, or even better: Pete who? But Jack needed to hear it. “You broke up with him?”
“Yeah, I broke up with him.”
Okay. Jack’s first idea was to pull her back into his arms, pick her up, carry her to his bedroom and make her scream until they both collapsed with exhaustion. He was incredibly surprised that managed to hold himself back.
She was still holding his hands, her thumb caressing his calm as he stared at them.
She wasn’t with Pete.
Pete was gone.
She was single.
He opened his mouth to speak but a thought stopped him. There was an image in his head of General Hammond’s disappointed face and the look on the SF’s faces as they carted him off to trial.
“Would it matter if I said I didn’t care?” She said, seeming to read his mind as she always did.
“I do,” he told her, “You have worked too hard to get where you are.”
“What about you?”
He just shrugged, “I’ve retired once. I can do it again.”
“No you can’t, you’re CO of the base!”
He smirked, “Anybody can do that.”
She shook her head frantically, “No, you’re fantastic at it! You have to stay!”
“And what? Risk you –“ He didn’t know whether to end that with her dying offworld after he’d sent her through the gate, or her finding another potato head.
She smiled softly, “I never thought I’d say this, no really, if you had asked me twenty years ago what I wanted, it would have been anything but this; but I want what my mother had.”
“What did she have?”
She tugged him a little closer, standing just a few inches away; close enough to feel the heat coming off him. She hadn’t intended to seduce him in the move, but she seemed to be managing anyway. “A husband, family, a life outside of her profession while still managing to do what she wanted.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Did you just propose to me Samantha?”
She found herself suddenly nervous and biting her lip before deciding that it wasn’t worth getting insipid about and nodding. “I think I did … Jack.”
He grinned before pulling her towards him and hugging her. “A long engagement,” he murmured, “Until we can figure everything out.”
She just shrugged and nodded into his chest, “That’ll do me.”
He took one of her hands and tugged her down the hall. She went, but held back at the door to his bedroom suddenly wondering what he expected. He saw her worry and smiled calmingly, “Don’t worry,” he told her, “Nothing tonight. Nothing until we figure out how to get married without getting thrown into prison before the honeymoon. This is just … the fact I’ve run out of spare rooms,” he said with a cheeky smile and pulled her towards the bed.
She curled up next against his chest, one of his arms wrapped around her torso and she smiled. She leant into him and he hugged her tightly. “Goodnight Samantha,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers right down to her toes. He chuckled as he felt it.
“Oh shh,” she playfully grumbled. “Go to sleep.”
“Yes Ma’am,” he lightly kissed her neck and she felt his breathing even out until he was deeply asleep. She looked to the ceiling for a moment and the prospect of Easter wasn’t looking anything nearly as terrifying as it had this morning.
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 ]