"Help me," Jack gasped, through lips bubbling with blood. "I can't see...."
"I'm trying," she cried, as she struggled desperately to hold the remains of chest together, but it was no good. There wasn't enough left. "Please hang on."
"I can't." His voice was a whisper, his face ashen. But his soft brown eyes, usually so full of humour, glittered with anger as he struggled to speak: "You were too late, Carter." And then they glazed, and she knew that he was dead.
"NO!" Her scream jarred through every bone, piercing the stillness of the night, and tearing her from the nightmare. Gasping for air, and shivering with cold, Sam found herself sitting bolt upright in bed, staring into blackness. She couldn't move for a long time, she never could. But at last, the swell of nausea in her guts broke the hideous spell, and forced her to dash for the bathroom. Where she threw-up, like she always did.
Returning to bed, Sam flicked on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness, and shrugged off her night-shirt, damp and chill with sweat. Curling up under the covers, she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. She wouldn't sleep again that night. She never did. How long had it been now? A month? Six weeks? Every night, tortured by the same nightmare, or some version of it. O'Neill was dead. Or dying. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. In her mind's eye, she saw him again - blood seeping from his lips, his eyes glazed with death - and felt her stomach twist in on itself with the familiar tension of dread. She curled up around the little ball of fear in the pit of her belly, and stared at the clock by her bedside. Three-thirty-four, it told her, and promptly flicked over to three-thirty-five. Three hours sleep. That was enough. She could function on that. She'd be fine.
***
General Hammond had already detailed the salient points of the mission, and now Daniel was rambling on about something. Jack didn't even try to look like he was listening - they all knew he wasn't. So, he sat in the briefing, doodling on the papers before him, wondering why Carter looked so damned ill. Her face was pinched and pale, and he noticed a tremor in her hand as she sipped her coffee. Even her hair looked flat, which was strange, because it usually had that kind of unruly tousled look that made him want to.... He sat up straight, blocking off that line of thought immediately. If he was concerned about Carter, it was because he was her CO and it was his job to be concerned.
His eyes must have been resting on her for a long time, because she suddenly glanced at him, as if sensing his gaze. He smiled fleetingly, and mouthed: are you okay?
Tight-lipped, she nodded, and returned her attention to Daniel's ramblings. And that tense little nod did away all his doubts; something was definitely wrong.
At last the meeting crawled to a close, and Jack was on his feet almost as fast as Carter.
"Jack, could I...?" Daniel began.
But Jack waved him silent. "Later," he promised, as he skirted the table and hurried to catch up with Carter's flight from the room. "Hey!" he called after her. "Wait up!" She slowed, eventually coming to a halt. But as she turned, there was no smile to greet him, and he was struck by the dark circles under her eyes. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Sir?"
"You look - " He decided to try tact: "You look a little under the weather."
"I'm fine sir," she replied, gazing at his left shoulder and not his face.
"You know, this is really a routine mission," he said. "Some musty artefacts for Daniel to dig up - we can handle it without you. Why don't you just go home and rest up?"
"I said I'm fine," she snapped, her blue eyes flashing with a fire he'd rarely seen. But it was gone in an instant, and she raked a weary hand through her hair. "Really, I'm fine to go. I want to go, Colonel."
"Well, if you're sure," he replied, hesitant. She really didn't look good.
"I'm sure. I'll see you at the gate, sir." And with that she turned and walked away.
Jack was thoughtful as he watched her leave, wondering why he hadn't ordered her to stay behind. Deep down he was afraid that there was something in those blue eyes of hers that he couldn't refuse. And that worried him more than he dared admit.
***
As missions went, Carter reflected, this one sucked. So much for the musty artefacts! The apparently uninhabited planet was teaming with life, and none of it friendly. They'd barely been here twenty minutes before the Colonel had decided that discretion was, indeed, the better part of valour, and had ordered a retreat.
And so here she was, only metres from the Stargate, pinned down under heavy fire, and feeling like shit. The adrenaline flooding her blood mixed uneasily with the caffeine that was keeping her going, making her sick to the pit of her stomach and causing her hands to tremble so much she could hardly aim her weapon.
She was crouched behind a couple of boulders with Daniel, who was rummaging in his pack for the symbol he needed to dial home. The Colonel and Teal'c were on the other side of the gate, firing randomly into the advancing alien hoard.
"Got it!" Daniel cried in triumph, waving a piece of paper in the air and nearly loosing his hand to a bolt of phaser fire in the process.
"Keep down," Carter hissed, yanking on his arm. Glancing at O'Neill, she knew that he'd seen. He made a couple of gestures, which she easily understood. The plan, basically, was to provide covering fire while Daniel dialled home, before running like hell for the Stargate. She raised an eyebrow - THAT'S IT? The Colonel's sharp eyes picked up her expression and he shrugged - YOU GOT A BETTER PLAN? Since she hadn't she just shook her head, unable to keep a small smile from touching her lips. She hated the way he could do that do her, without even trying.
"Get ready," she hissed at Daniel, as O'Neill counted down with his fingers - THREE, TWO, ONE. GO! "Now!"
Daniel bolted from behind the rocks like a hare from a trap, and Carter pointed, fired, and kept her finger on the trigger for what seemed like an age. And then she heard the familiar whoosh of the gate opening, and heard O'Neill yell: "Go, go, go!" As if in slow motion, she watched him jump to his feet, still firing as he started running head-long for the gate. And it was then that the panic descended like an anvil crushing an eggshell. She couldn't breath, her vision narrowed until all she could see were her nightmares; Jack shot, Jack's life-blood draining into the dirt. Jack dead. Her gun fell from shaking hands, and she found herself unable to move. He was going to die. This was it. He was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The panic gripped her throat, choking her, and all she could to was watch him running.
He was almost at the gate now, almost safe, but at the last moment he turned, glancing to each side, making sure his team got through first. Daniel had already dived into the blue, and Teal'c was poised on the verge. Jack's head snapped around, looking for her, and his eyes found her in an instant of shock and confusion.
"Carter!" he yelled, amid the flurry of phaser fire. "Run, damn it!" She watched him with a sick detachment. It would all be over soon. She saw O'Neill bark something at Teal'c, who dove for cover and continued firing, while he started running back towards her.
The sight snapped her back to herself. He was coming after her! He was going to die coming after her! She couldn't let that happen. It couldn't be her fault - she'd rather die. Forcing her feet to move, her weapon abandoned, Carter made herself run towards the Stargate. As she passed him, Jack was sliding to a stop, astonished and baffled, but she heard him curse as he turned, and felt his hand propel her through the gate with such force that she fell to her knees on the other side. Teal'c was a fraction of a second behind her, followed immediately by Jack, who skidded to a halt half way down the ramp.
Still shaking, Carter started climbing to her feet when she felt a strong hand grab her arm. It was the Colonel. He yanked her upright and, not letting go of her, yelled: "What the HELL was that?!"
She stumbled backward in the face of his fury, and he dropped his hold on her arm. "I..." she stammered. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" he spat. "You're sorry?!"
"Hey, take it easy Jack," Daniel intervened, coming to stand between them. "What's going on?"
"What's going on," the Colonel raged, "is that Carter ignored my direct order to retreat, and damn near got herself killed! That's what's going on!"
"Well, I'm sure she can explain," Daniel assured him. "Sam?"
But she couldn't. Even if she'd had an answer, she was shaking so hard that coherent speech was impossible. She felt Daniel's hand come to rest gently on her shoulder, and the sympathetic gesture choked her with tears. WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME? she pleaded silently. I'M LOSING MY MIND!
O'Neill took her silence as proof of her guilt, and he turned angrily away, flinging his cap on the floor and struggling to regain his composure. Gradually his breathing evened, and he turned back. But his eyes were still hard and angry as he glared at her: "Go to the infirmary and get yourself checked out."
"But..." she began weakly.
"That's a goddamn order, Major!" he snapped, daring her to answer back.
She dared not. "Yes sir," she murmured, and unable to look at him, or at Daniel or Teal'c, she trudged away.
***
"Well," Janet said, perching on the edge of Sam's bed, "there's no sign of anything too disastrous."
Sam made a show of smiling. "Then I'll be on my way."
"Not so fast, Major," Janet warned, a firm hand on Sam's shoulder keeping her in place. "Your adrenal glands are working over-time, there is entirely too much caffeine in your system, and your reflexes are sluggish to say the least."
Sam held her silence, reluctant to reveal anything. But after a moment Janet asked: "How long have you been having trouble sleeping?"
"I haven't..." Sam started to protest, but Janet interrupted immediately.
"Don't even try," she said. "You think I can't recognise chronic insomnia when I see it? So, how long?"
Sam sighed, almost relieved to be able to tell someone. "A month, maybe six weeks."
"Any idea why?"
"I've - I've been having bad dreams," she said, careful not to give too much away.
Janet's brow furrowed. "Every night?"
She nodded.
"Every night for six weeks?"
She nodded again.
"Sam, why on earth didn't you come to see me? You're exhausted, your mental acuity is impaired - this is a serious problem!"
"I didn't come, because I was afraid of this."
"Of what?"
"Of being told that I can't handle it."
"I haven't said that, Sam."
"But it's what you're thinking, isn't it? Nightmares, insomnia - classic signs of someone failing to handle the stress. Even I know that!"
"Is that what you think's going on?" Janet asked quietly.
Sam was silent for a moment. "I don't know," she said at last. "I honestly don't know."
***
On his way to the infirmary, Jack rehearsed the words in his head. Apologies weren't really his thing, and he avoided them whenever he could, but today he knew he owed her one. Yelling at her like that, if front of the whole damned SGC, had been out of line - and unprofessional. Especially when the person he was most angry at was himself.
"I should never have let her go," he muttered. He'd known there was something wrong, but he'd ignored it. She'd insisted, and he'd backed down. His mistake. Unprofessional, again. What was it with her, that she impaired his judgement like that?
Not sure that he'd be comfortable with the answer, Jack conveniently forgot the question as he arrived at the infirmary and poked his head around the door. She wasn't there, but Fraiser sat at her desk, studying her computer screen intently. He coughed to gain her attention. "You seen Carter?"
Turning around, she nodded. "She was here."
"Everything okay?" Jack asked, hearing tension in the doctor's voice. "Is she okay?"
"I sent her home."
"Why?" His chest tightened painfully. "What's wrong?"
"She's exhausted," Janet told him. "She's hardly slept for at least six weeks - maybe more. She's been keeping herself going with way too much caffeine, and she's totally strung out. Something's going on with her, but," she shrugged, "you know Sam, she clams right up and you can't get a thing out of her."
Jack took a deep breath. "She hasn't said anything," he agreed, strangely hurt that she hadn't confided in him. He'd thought they were friends. "I'll talk to her," he decided.
Janet shrugged. "Good luck," she said. "Getting Sam to open up is even harder than getting Teal'c to crack a grin."
Jack allowed himself a brief, humourless, smile: "I'm her CO, I'll just order her to talk."
"Yeah," Janet nodded, turning back to her screen, "that'll work."
***
The bath's hot water soaked into every aching muscle, and the scent of jasmine filled both the bathroom and her head as she took deep, slow breaths. Sam couldn't remember when she'd last had the time for such indulgence, and she had to admit, it felt good. It felt very, very good.
In fact, she'd been feeling a whole lot better since she'd spoken to Janet. Just telling someone had eased the burden more than she would have imagined; she knew she wasn't losing her mind. And, glancing over to the washbasin, she saw the little bottle of sleeping pills Janet had proscribed. Not many, just enough to get her back on track. And the knowledge that she had help was enough to ease the knot of tension in her stomach, and free her mind enough to start thinking.
Something, she realised, had to be done. She couldn't continue like this, seeing him every day, treasuring every look, every accidental touch, and wanting to be near him so badly it hurt. It was ridiculous, and it had to stop.
"I love him." The words sounded strange, felt strange on her tongue. She'd never spoken them before, never truly admitted them. "I love him." She said it louder. "I'm in love with Jack O'Neill." She almost giggled as she spoke, but her smiled soon faded, because that wasn't the only truth. "I'm in love with COLONEL Jack O'Neill, and nothing can ever happen between us." That was the second truth, the one that twisted like a dagger in her guts. But truth was always betterspoken than hidden, and it gave her the courage to do what she knew had tobe done.
As the bath cooled, Sam climbed out. She dried her hair slowly, deliberately, with more care than her usual technique of tipping her head upside down and running her fingers through it. Tonight, she wanted to feel good about herself. She wanted to forget about military fatigues, and heavy boots, and rules and regulations. Tonight she wanted to be pampered, she wanted to paint her toe-nails, and curl up with a good book and a large glass of wine. Tonight, she wanted to be Samantha - not Carter, not Major, but Sam. Feminine and cosy. So, she dressed in her favourite silk pyjamas, the fabric both cool and warm against her skin, and padded into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of red wine. She glanced briefly at the "Do not take with alcohol" warning on the side of her sleeping pill bottle, and chose to ignore it, swallowing one with a mouthful of wine.
She'd just got herself settled in the corner of the sofa, and had read half a page of her book, when the doorbell rang. She ignored it the first time, and the second time. But the third time it rang, she sighed, and struggled to her feet, the wine already taking effect and making her sway slightly.
When she opened the door, she blinked. "Oh," she said. "It's you."
***
Jack had been about to give up, afraid that she might be asleep, or worse, that she'd seen who it was and didn't want to talk to him. But just as he was turning away, a light came on in the hallway and the door opened. Carter stared at him for a moment, before she said: "Oh, it's you."
He smiled. "Yep." When it didn't look like she was going to say anything more, he added. "Can I come in?"
She blinked again, and he wondered if she were a little drunk. But her voice was clear enough as she said, "Yes, of course," and stood back to let him pass.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked as she closed the door. She was dressed for bed, and although her pyjamas were loose, they clung to her in places he knew he really shouldn't be noticing.
"Oh." Carter glanced down at herself, as if realising how she was dressed, and a faint blush tinted her cheeks. "No, I was just reading," she said, tugging self-consciously at her shirt, which only had the effect of suggesting even more accurately what lay beneath. Jack kept his eyes on her face. "Can I get you anything?" she asked as she led him into the lounge.
"No, I won't stay long. I just wanted see if you were okay - and to apologise for what happened this morning."
"Sir?"
"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," he told her, "I was mad at myself for letting you come when I knew something was wrong, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."
Carter looked stunned.
"Don't be too surprised," he told her, with a half smile, "I do occasionally admit to making mistakes."
She smiled too, but her eyes slid away from him as she said: "I shouldn't have insisted on coming along when I knew I wasn't up to it." She was staring at a spot on the carpet somewhere near his feet. "And I should've gone to see Janet weeks ago."
"True," he agreed. "So, we're even?"
Carter nodded. "I guess so." And then she cracked an enormous yawn.
"Sit down Carter," he suggested, "before you drop."
She didn't argue, curling herself up in the corner of the sofa. Her eyes were beginning to droop, and she smiled at him. "Thanks for coming by," she murmured, her words starting to slur. "I'd hate for things to end on a bad note."
"End?" he asked, a cold sliver of panic coiling in his guts.
"Hmm?"
"Carter," he pressed, sitting down in a chair opposite her. "What do you mean end? What's going on with you?"
She yawned again, snuggling her head against the arm of the sofa. "I'm okay," she told him.
"I don't believe you."
Her eyes drooped further, and she muttered, "Oh well."
Jack leaned closer. "Carter, I could order you to tell me what's going on. I'm your CO, remember?"
Sam sighed. "Yeah, I remember," she agreed as her eyes fluttered shut. "I really hate that."
"Me too," he whispered, but she was already asleep and didn't hear.
Leaning back in the chair, Jack took a deep breath and watched her sleep. She looked so different from the Major Carter he knew. Gone were the trappings of rank, of her military life. And without them she looked more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. Well, almost. He didn't think he'd ever be able to erase the image of her standing amid the phaser fire that morning, her wide eyes staring at him, lost and terrified. It turned him cold just remembering. He'd thought she was going to die, and it had almost paralysed him with panic. He shivered, despite the warmth of her house, and closed his eyes. It was over, and she was okay.
When he opened them again, he found himself still watching her. She looked so soft, so delicate, her lips slightly parted, her hair curling gently around her face. He had to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. WHAT'S GOING ON, JACK? he asked himself. As if he didn't know. He rose to his feet abruptly, powerful feelings he refused to acknowledge making him too uncomfortable to stay. I SHOULD GO, AND LET HER SLEEP, he told himself. GOD KNOWS SHE NEEDS IT.
Glancing around for a blanket to cover her with, he suddenly realised that she should be in bed. If she slept where she was, he knew she'd wake up in the middle of the night, chilled and stiff. He toyed with the idea of waking her now, and pointing her in the direction of the bedroom, but he was loath to disturb her.
Of course, he was just avoiding the obvious solution. PICK HER UP, YOU IDIOT, he berated himself. SHE WON'T BITE. But that, he knew, wasn't what worried him. It was his reaction, not hers, that he was afraid of. But Jack O'Neill hadn't made Colonel for nothing; he was made of stern stuff, and always did the right thing, despite the personal cost. So, steeling himself, he bent down and gathered her into his arms. And because he was a disciplined, military, man he managed to ignore the way his pulse started racing as he held her close, and lifted her from the sofa. He ignored the bitter-sweet pain in his heart as her head rested against his shoulder, and he ignored the heady sent of jasmine that filled his head as her hair brushed against his face.
With the determination of a soldier, he strode purposefully into her bedroom, and lay her gently on the bed, pulling the covers over her. And if he did touch her face with a gentle finger before he left, it was a only a minor breach of his self-discipline. And given the temptation, he judged himself to have done a damned good job.
***
The sun was high in the sky by the time Sam surfaced from her first full night's sleep in weeks. And although she was a little groggy from the tablet, the sleep had done her the world of good, and she lay in bed, gazing out at the sunshine with a smile on her face.
She couldn't quite remember how she had gotten into bed. The last thing she remembered was talking to the Colonel, and then - it was morning. She guessed he must have helped her to bed, which provoked an interesting fluttering sensation in her stomach, accompanied by a little pang of regret. But the important thing was that she had slept, all night, without dreaming the dream. And she felt great.
Glancing at the clock, she realised it was close to ten. Late, but not too late for what she had to do today. Her resolve hadn't weakened overnight, in fact, catching up on some sleep had only fortified her against the unpleasantness she knew she would have to face. But Sam Carter was no coward. She knew what had to be done, and she was going to do it.
She dressed carefully. She wanted to be taken seriously, and looking like she was on the edge of a breakdown wasn't going to help her cause. But the woman who stared back at her from the hallway mirror was in control - uniform pressed, hair neat, face scrubbed clean, shoes polished. Not exactly sexy, but it was the look she needed today. Major Carter, strong and in control. Peering closer, she wondered how much her eyes gave away. But she saw nothing of the pain she felt and was satisfied.
By the time she reached the SGC it was almost noon, which suited her fine. General Hammond would be in his office, and he was the man she needed to see. As she strode along the corridor, the clicking of her heels marking time, anxiety started crawling in the pit of her stomach; she felt a tingling in her fingers, and clenched them into fists at her side. She was dreading this encounter, but there was no avoiding it. It had to be done.
She rapped sharply on the door to Hammond's office, and her heart thudded when he replied: "Come in."
Willing herself to calmness, she stepped inside. The General glanced up, and smiled. "Major Carter! I didn't expect to see you for a couple of days. I heard you were told to take it easy."
"Yes sir," she agreed. "I just came in today to talk to you, if you have the time."
"Of course." He waved her to a seat. "What is it, Major?"
When it came to the moment, Sam found that her mouth had turned to dust, and she had to pause while she worked the words onto her lips. But at last she said it: "Sir, I'd like to request a reassignment."
Hammond stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, before he said: "Major, is this a joke?"
"No Sir."
He shook his head, baffled. "Reassignment? From the SGC?"
"No, Sir. From SG-1."
"Are you going to tell me why?" he asked her.
"Personal reasons," she replied, hoping he wouldn't press her further. But her hope was a vein one.
"That won't cut it, Major," he snapped, anger starting to replace his astonishment. "SG-1 is the best, and you are the best. Personal reasons are irrelevant. If you want me to break up the best goddamn team I've got, you'll have to give me a better reason."
She felt her jaw clench, but knew she had no choice but to continue. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she said: "Sir, I have," she cleared her throat, "that is, over the last few months - years - I've developed feelings - inappropriate feelings - for a member of SG-1. And they're interfering with my ability to do my job. It would be best if I were reassigned."
The General looked down for a moment, toying awkwardly with the pen on his desk. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its anger. "Carter," he said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, "this sort of thing isn't uncommon. In fact, it happens all the time. These crushes come and go and...."
"Sir," she interrupted, "with respect, I'm not an eighteen year old cadet, and what I feel isn't a crush. And it won't just go away." She paused, and readied her trump card. "Sir, if you won't reassign me I'll be forced to resign."
"And I won't accept it."
"Then I'll take it to welfare."
The General was silent, studying her for a long moment. His brow furrowed into a frown, and he said: "Carter, I want you to think about this carefully. For the sake of your career, if nothing else."
"My career?"
"Being reassigned because you've developed 'feelings' for your...for a colleague, is not going to read well." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And, the hard truth is, being a woman, it'll be even worse. I've heard too many people argue that women shouldn't be allowed in the forces because they're too emotional, not able to control their feelings, and liable to destabilise units by creating inappropriate relationships with other officers. Don't prove their point for them."
Carter opened her mouth to protest, but the General raised his hand for silence, and she subsided.
"I'm not saying I agree with them, because I don't," he said. "And I'm not saying I don't sympathise with your situation, because I do. But I'm not the only General you're going to have to impress in your long career, Major, and I'd hate to see that career cut short because of a mistake you make here."
His words rang true, and cut deep. But she could see no other way out. "I can't work with him anymore," she said quietly. "I don't want to see him die."
"No one's going to die, Major."
"You don't know that," she replied, cursing herself for the tears she felt pricking behind her eyes. "Every time we go through the gate could be the last. God knows we've had a few close calls. It's only a matter of time."
Hammond leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "How many times have you saved this colleague's life?" he asked. "You want to leave that in someone else's hands?"
She shook her head, refusing to let her tears fall. "I just don't want to be there when it happens."
The General didn't move, regarding her intently. Then he gave a brief nod. "This is what I'm going to do," he told her. "As of now, you're reassigned to SG-5 for a period of six weeks."
"But...."
"No buts, Major," he snapped. "If, after that time, you still want to be reassigned away from SG-1 I'll consider making the appointment permanent. But I want you to do a hell of a lot of thinking in that six weeks. You understand?"
She nodded, relief making her suddenly light-headed. "Yes sir. Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me," Hammond grumbled. "I doubt I'm doing you any favours."
She rose then, turning towards the door, but was called back: "Major?"
"Sir?"
"I take it you haven't discussed any of this with Colonel O'Neill?"
Her lips tightened. "No, Sir."
"I thought not. All right, I'll speak to him." He sighed: "That should be a lively conversation! Now get out of here, Carter, before I change my mind."
She was gone in an instant. Sam had no desire to be anywhere near the place when O'Neill heard of her defection.
***
"She did WHAT?!" Jack yelled storming backward and forward in Hammond's office. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Requested a reassignment," the General repeated calmly.
"What the hell for?"
"Personal reasons."
"Personal...?" Jack stopped his pacing and stared. "What personal reasons?"
"That would be for Major Carter to tell you, if she so chooses."
Jack's mind raced, searching for anything that might explain what she was doing. It came up blank, unless... "Was it to do with what happened yesterday, on the mission?"
"Maybe. I don't know," Hammond replied, leaning forward, elbows on his desk. "Jack, sit down."
Reluctantly, Jack slumped into a chair. "And you've agreed to her request?" he asked, a strange bleakness descending over him.
"Temporarily. She needs time to think - to make sure she's making the right decision."
"Well, she's not," Jack snapped. "This is definitely the wrong decision!"
The General shrugged. "Maybe. But it's her decision to make, not ours."
Jack was silent. He felt as if someone had just pulled the world from under his feet, and the implications were staggering. He couldn't begin to unravel it right there, but all he knew was that he was devastated. And angry, and frustrated. She couldn't just leave him!
"Jack?"
"Hmm?"
"I said, I'll be assigning you a temporary replacement as soon as possible. I'll let you know who as soon as I can."
A replacement for Carter? Jack would have laughed, if he hadn't been so angry. Like she could be replaced! But he pushed his anger deep, and rose to his feet. "Thank you sir," he growled. "Is there anything else?"
"No, that's all," Hammond replied, eyeing him steadily, and then added: "Jack, Major Carter should be in SG-1. Do what you can to persuade her of that fact."
Jack smiled bleakly. "Oh, don't worry, General, that's exactly what I'm going to do."
***
Sam had almost made it to her car when she heard him yell her name. Damn it, she cursed silently, Hammond didn't waste any time! Turning, steeling herself, she watched O'Neill stride towards her, his face like thunder.
He stopped a few feet away, arms folded across his chest, and glared. She shifted under his stare, but refused to speak. At last he said, in a quiet, angry voice: "What, leaving without saying goodbye?"
"Sir, I -"
"You what?"
"I'm sorry."
"You know, I'm getting really sick of hearing that from you, Carter. I don't want your apologies, I want a goddamn explanation. What the HELL are you doing?"
His anger dismayed her, but she refused to let it show now, after so long. "I think that what I'm doing is for the best."
"Best for who?"
"For the unit."
"Well, it's not," he told her abruptly. "The unit - and by that, I mean me - needs you." He paused, and then qualified his statement: "You're the best, Carter. You can't walk away from it."
"With respect, Sir," she pointed out, "I haven't been my best for a while now -yesterday's mission proved that."
"So you froze!" he exclaimed. "It happens. Get over it."
"That's what I'm trying to do," she told him. "But while I'm serving with...with SG-1, I don't think I will get over it."
"Because of this 'personal reason'?" He was clearly unconvinced.
"Yes, Sir."
"If you had a problem, Carter," Jack said, "you should have come to me."
"That's wasn't appropriate sir."
"Why the hell not?"
He was boxing her into a corner, and she felt herself starting to panic. "Because," she began. "Because..."
"Because?" he pressed impatiently.
"Because you ARE the problem, Colonel." As she spoke, her stomach did a strange little back-flip into her throat, and her fingers clenched into nervous fists at her side. He was bound to understand, to know what she meant, and the thought filled her with dread and anticipation in equal measure. This was it!
But Jack was nonplussed. "Me?" he asked, uncertainly. "I'm the problem?"
HE DOESN'T GET IT! She couldn't believe it, she'd virtually spelled it out, and he didn't damn well get it!
"Care to explain?" he prompted, shifting a little uneasily.
HOW CAN I EXPLAIN? her mind screamed at him, IF YOU WON'T SEE IT, HOW CAN I EXPLAIN? And then something inside her snapped. It was as if a dam had burst, and all the years of unresolved emotion between them flooded out, distorted by her frustration into an anger she couldn't control. "You think you know everything, don't you Jack?" she began, her momentum quickly building. "You never listen to the explanation - 'get to the point, Daniel,' 'cut to the chase, Carter,'- that's all we ever hear. And you ALWAYS know best, don't you? You think you're so damn smart, that you can figure it all out on your own, without anyone's help. Well, you know what? You can't. You don't know shit. You don't even know what's going on right in front of your goddamn eyes!" She was struggling for breath by the time she finished, anger tightening her chest and forming hot tears behind her eyes. She hated him, because she loved him and he had no idea! No idea why she was leaving!
He stared at her, and for an instant she thought she saw a raw pain flicker in his eyes, but the emotion was fleeting, soon surpassed by a towering anger. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed, and when he spoke, his voice was cold and measured. "That's it?" he asked. "That's your explanation? We've worked together for three years, and that's all you can give me? I don't LISTEN to you?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I expected better of you, Major," he told her. "Much better." He paused, cocking his head to one side. "I came here to persuade you to stay, because I thought I needed you - that SG-1 needed you - but I don't need THAT attitude in my unit. I need team players, Carter, not prima donnas. All things considered, SG-5 are welcome to you."
Sam thought she would die on the spot. She felt the colour drain from her face, and her throat tighten until she could hardly breath. Was this how it would end? Him hating her, despising her? She opened her mouth to speak, but found she had nothing to say. He lingered a little longer, as if waiting for something more, but in the end her silence said all that was to be said, and he turned away. "See you around, Carter," he muttered, in a voice she barely recognised, before he strode back towards the elevator and she turned, trembling, to her car.
***
That had been a bad day for SG-1. But even the worst days end, and are followed by tomorrows, which also end, until time passes and raw nerves scab over, even if they don't heal. And so, two weeks later, Daniel Jackson found himself sitting in a mission briefing, surreptitiously sizing up Captain Taylor, Carter's replacement, as the man detailed the technical problems they'd be facing on their latest mission.
"The gate is under water," Taylor was explaining, "so, that means that the displacement caused by the event horizon opening will cause a compression wave in the water equal to 100,000 PSI of pressure. Now, while we're on this side of the gate, it's not a problem. The problem will be dialling home from the other side."
He was good, Daniel had to admit. Concise, and to the point, if a little less enthusiastic than Sam. And, for some reason, O'Neill was letting him get away with a whole lot more techno-babble than Carter ever had. In fact, he realised, the Colonel had been subdued for the last couple of weeks. Ever since Carter had left. He missed her, of course, but, being Jack, he refused to admit it. Daniel suspected that he even denied it to himself. He didn't know the details, but he'd heard that the two hadn't parted on the best of terms, which didn't surprise him - Jack hadn't taken her defection well. And then there was the question of that whole 'thing' they had together, or rather, that they didn't have together. And that, he suspected, only made things worse.
"Sound good to you, Daniel?" Jack's voice cut through his thoughts, and he sat up guiltily.
"Um," he stammered.
The Colonel took pity. "We send an advanced party to check out the vicinity of the gate - see if it's worth the trip - while keeping the gate open as long as possible? To avoid the, um," he turned to Captain Taylor, "what did you call it?"
"Compression wave, sir."
He nodded. "Right. To avoid getting squished by the compression wave."
"Sounds good," Daniel nodded gratefully. "When do we leave?"
A sharp knock at the door forestalled General Hammond's answer. "Come in," he barked, and the door opened to admit Carter. Daniel smiled at her, but Sam didn't notice. Her eyes were riveted to one person in the room: O'Neill. Or rather, to his back.
"Oh," she said, awkwardly. "I didn't realise you were busy."
Hearing her voice, Jack tensed, but kept his back to her, his mouth compressing itself into a tight line - of anger, or something more painful, Daniel couldn't tell.
"I'll come back later," Carter offered, backing out the door.
"That's okay, Major," Jack said, still not turning around. "We're pretty much done here." He got to his feet. "We'll leave at fourteen-hundred."
Hammond nodded. "Very good, Colonel. And good luck. This should prove an interesting mission - I'll look forward to reading your report."
"Well, I'll make sure I 'get to the point', and 'cut to the chase'," the Colonel said with an peculiar venom. Then, turning to Carter at last, he gave her a stiff, formal nod: "Major."
"Colonel," she responded, as he passed her. But her wide eyes followed him down the hallway, her sadness exposed for all to see. All who cared to look, anyway.
What is it with these two? Daniel thought, do they enjoy torturing each other? But all he said was, "Nice to see you, Sam. You doing okay?"
"Fine," she replied awkwardly.
Reaching out, he squeezed her arm - being a civilian, he felt he was allowed to take such liberties. "We'll get together soon," he promised. "Don't be a stranger."
Giving him a watery smile, she nodded. "Sure, that would be nice."
With a parting nod, he left her to the General and followed Jack slowly towards the locker room.
***
Jack changed into his pressure suit without thought, moving automatically, his mind fixed on the subject that had preoccupied him for the last two weeks. Major Carter. Her words kept whizzing around his head - YOU ARE THE PROBLEM, COLONEL. YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING. YOU NEVER WANT TO LISTEN - and they prompted him alternately to anger and contrition. But they needled enough to tell him that they contained a grain of truth. Yes, he didn't always listen to her, yes, he didn't always want to know the details. But it wasn't because he didn't respect her, it was because he trusted her so completely that he didn't need to know. As long as Carter understood what was going on, he knew it would be okay.
"So much for trust," he muttered to himself, fastening the heavy buckles. All these years, when he'd thought they were becoming friends - maybe, even more than friends - and she'd felt like this! YOU ARE THE PROBLEM, COLONEL. Well, he was entitled to be angry. She'd betrayed his friendship, thrown it back in his face, and without the decency to tell him in person. Oh, yeah, he was entitled to be angry!
And yet, he missed her. God, how he missed her! Every second of every day. He kept turning to her to ask her a question, or to tell her something he knew she'd enjoy, or to crack a joke, only to see Captain Taylor in her place; and each time the pain of loss was as sharp as the first. He felt like he'd lost his right arm, and, he supposed, that's what she'd been. He'd relied on her more than he'd realised. Not just for technical support, but for so many other things; someone to share a joke with, someone who understood his military mind, someone to brighten his morning with a smile - that infectious smile that brought her whole face to life, and always lightened his heart, however bad a day he was having. He missed that. He missed her friendship. He missed her.
And the more he missed her, the angrier he got - it wasn't the best way to cope, but it was effective. It helped numb the pain, even if it didn't heal the wound. So, he gave as good as he got; he avoided her when he could, if they met he cut her dead, and, that day in the parking lot, he'd told her that he didn't even want her in his unit. That had been the killer. And yet, when he remembered her dismayed expression, the guilt was almost overpowering. Her face had paled until he was afraid she was going to pass out, and her eyes - her beautiful, wide eyes - had filled with tears. So he knew his words had cut deep - he'd wanted them to, because he felt betrayed, and so very, very angry - but he hadn't imagined he could really hurt her. How could he, if he was the reason she was leaving? It didn't make any damn sense!
He sighed. "Never try to understand women," he advised himself, as he snapped the final seal home.
"Why not, O'Neill?" a voice boomed from behind him.
Startled, he turned to see both Teal'c and Daniel suiting up. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed them come in. Feeling a tad self-conscious, he decided that bravado was the best tactic: "Because, Teal'c," he explained, "it's impossible. Women, are illogical. It's in their genes, I swear to God."
Teal'c frowned. "I do not understand. In what way are women illogical?"
He saw Daniel roll his eyes, but decided to push on: "In the way that nothing they do or say makes any damned sense."
"Samantha Carter always makes sense," Teal'c pointed out.
"Oh, no," Jack corrected him. "Don't even get me started with her - she's the worst of them all."
Still frowning, Teal'c opened his mouth to reply, but Daniel stopped him with a hand on the man's arm. "I don't think you can win this one," he advised.
"Damn straight," Jack muttered, clunking heavily towards the door. "You coming then?"
***
Even beneath the cumbersome pressure suits and breathing apparatus, Sam could tell who was who as she watched from the back of the control room. Teal'c of course, was obvious; his height alone would have marked him out, even without his unique gravitas of movement. And Daniel, shifting awkwardly under the weight of the unfamiliar equipment, was easy to spot. The strange figure, slightly taller than Daniel, must be Captain Taylor - her replacement. And then, of course, there was O'Neill, still managing to swagger and look every inch the leader.
"Chevron six encoding," a lieutenant at her side announced, as the Stargate went through its laborious routine. "Chevron seven encoding. Chevron seven locked."
"SG-1," General Hammond said, "you have a go."
Sam glanced down into the gate room, now filled with the familiar shimmering light, and felt sharp stabs of envy. She should be going with them - she COULD be going with them. It was her choice to stay here and let fate deal them their cards without her, and it was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. Her logical mind told her it was for the best, but her heart tugged in a different direction.
"Regrets, Major?" Hammond asked, coming to stand by her side.
Sam forced a smile onto her lips. "No Sir," she lied.
The General shrugged. "We've never opened a gate under water before," he commented, staring out into the gate room. "Another first for SG-1."
She refused to rise to the bait, but following his gaze, she watched as O'Neill led his team through the gate. GOOD LUCK, she wished them silently. GOD'S SPEED.
***
The water, he'd been prepared for. The darkness, he hadn't. Aside from the cold blue light from the gate, that did little to illuminate their surroundings, they were encompassed on all sides by thick, impenetrable darkness.
In his ear-piece, he heard Daniel gasp. "Whoa - interesting."
Turning slowly in the water, O'Neill tapped on his wristlight, and flashed it in Daniel's general direction. He was nearer than he'd realised, and his looming presence startled him. "Damn it," Jack hissed. "Don't creep up on me like that!"
"We're under hundreds of feet of water," Daniel pointed out mildly. "I have to creep."
Jack ignored him. "Teal'c, Carter...." Her name slipped out automatically, and he cursed himself for it. "Taylor," he corrected. "Get over here - we need to tie on. It's way too dark to get separated." Once their life-lines were secured, he turned to the Captain. "So, which way?"
Taylor's face creased into a frown, an expression exaggerated by the cold white illumination of his suit. "It's hard to tell," he said, glancing down at the device in his hand. "I'm not picking up anything on the sonic transmitter."
Jack waited for a moment, in case there was more, but the Captain seemed to have exhausted his imagination. CARTER WOULD HAVE KNOWN. The thought popped unbidden into his mind, and he pushed it away ruthlessly - Carter wasn't here, she didn't want to be here. So, with a shrug, he suggested: "How about straight ahead?"
"Seems good to me," Daniel agreed.
"I have no objection," Teal'c added.
"Straight ahead it is then," he decided. "General Hammond, are you getting this?"
"Loud and clear Colonel. What's it like through there?"
"Dark," he replied. "Very, very dark. We're heading out now - we'll be out of radio contact for about thirty minutes."
"Understood, Colonel. And remember, we can't keep the wormhole coherent longer than an hour. So, don't get lost."
"Believe me, Sir, this is the last place in the universe I'd want to get lost!"
***
The control room was hushed now that the mission was underway, monitors bleeped, data streamed in and was efficiently processed and reported. And at the back of the room, trying to remain inconspicuous as she scanned the mission data, sat Major Carter. Her mind, if not her body, was out there with them, and so she didn't notice anyone approaching until a quiet voice in her ear startled her back to reality.
"Sam? What are you doing here?"
She turned guiltily away from the computer, but relaxed when she saw it was just Dr Fraiser. "Oh," she said casually, "I'm just..."
Janet glanced at the screen. "Monitoring SG-1?"
She felt a sudden heat come into her cheeks. "Well, I was passing and...."
"Sam..."
"Okay, okay," she admitted. "But it's a tricky mission - the gate's under three hundred feet of water, and we have to keep it open until they get back because...
Janet waved her to silence. "So why aren't you out there with them?"
"You know why," Sam told her crisply, turning back to the screen and willing her friend to leave.
But she didn't, she sat down on the corner of the desk and said: "Personal reasons?"
"That's it."
"I see." Janet paused for a moment, before adding in a low voice. "Then tell me, is it easier to sit here and wonder if he's okay, than be out there where you could do something about it?"
Claws of panic gripped Sam's stomach. She knew! How did she know? Forcing herself to remain calm, she opted for denial: "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, come on," Janet chided gently. "I'm not blind. I know how you feel about O'Neill."
"Shhh!" Sam hissed, jumping to her feet, and glancing around her. Thankfully, no one was close by. "How do you - I mean - what do you mean?"
"Sam," Janet smiled, "the men around here might be as unperceptive as a bunch of rocks, but I'm not. I've seen you guys together - it's obvious."
Sitting down heavily, Sam scrubbed a hand through her hair and shook her head. "You must think I'm such a fool."
"Because you've fallen for Jack O'Neill? No. Because you've quit SG-1? Yes, definitely."
Sam turned away, uncomfortable with the conversation, but strangely relieved to be talking. "You don't understand what it's been like. I've had these dreams - really, awful dreams. And every time I go through that gate with him, I'm wondering whether this time will be it, and knowing there's not a damned thing I can do to stop it."
"You're afraid he's going to get himself killed?"
She nodded mutely.
"And that you won't be able to prevent it?
Another silent nod.
Janet paused: "Well," she said at last, "we're back to the same question; is it easier waiting here and wondering, or being out there with him?"
Sam was silent a long time. She knew the answer. She wasn't the sort of person comfortable on the sidelines, and sitting here, watching and waiting, was an excruciating torture. But it did have one significant advantage. Looking up into the face of her friend, she said: "At least this way I won't have to watch it happen."
***
"This is incredible!" Daniel breathed, shining his wristlight up along the edge of the plinth they had discovered. "It looks like some kind of alter, although the statuary is gone. It must have been down here aeons."
"Aeons?" Jack asked. "How long's an aeon Danny?"
Daniel flashed him a dark stare. "A long time," he said.
"Looks like it," Jack agreed, turning in a slow circle, watching the walls of the decaying city flicker in and out of existence as his wristlight passed over them.
"Sir," Captain Taylor said. "We should be heading back to the gate. We've been out thirty minutes so far."
"Thank you, Captain," Jack said, wishing that he didn't think of Carter every time the man spoke. "Daniel?" he called. "You about done?"
"Well, there's so much here - I'm barely started...!" Daniel's enthusiasm was running away with him, as always.
Reluctantly, Jack snapped him back: "Given that if we don't get back through the gate in the next thirty minutes we'll be as dead as this city, are you about done?"
"What? Oh, right. Yes," he nodded. "But I HAVE to come back. This place is fantastic! It...it's like Atlantis!" Even under three hundred feet of water, Daniel's face was as eager as a schoolboy's.
Jack just shook his head. "Rather you than me. This place gives me the creeps."
"Sir?" It was Taylor again. "The time?"
"Okay, okay - we're leaving! Daniel, Teal'c, come on."
Plodding along the base of the ocean - or whatever it was they were under - was hard work, and their progress was slow. Slowed further by Daniel, who, forgetting they were all tied together, kept stopping to examine some rock or another, and pulling them all to a halt. But, nonetheless, Jack thought he could see the faint sheen of the Stargate shimmering through the watery darkness, when disaster struck.
"Look at that!" Daniel was exclaiming, gazing up at an elegant pillar just to his right. A pillar, Jack noticed, that had something rather large and precarious balanced on top of it. "It looks almost Minoan in design, but...." Daniel reached out to touch it.
"Daniel, wait!" Jack yelled. But it was too late, his touch dislodged a large piece of something, which fell heavily towards them. Fumbling through his bulky suit, Jack managed to grab Daniel and yank, but people don't move easily through water, and he didn't yank him far enough. The falling masonry just clipped Daniel's oxygen tank, sending streams of bubbles shooting upwards.
"I'm loosing air!" Daniel yelled, glancing at his dial. "From all tanks!"
"Damn it," Jack cursed, turning Daniel around, searching for the emergency tank. It too was breached. He glanced briefly at the faint shimmering of the Stargate, and knew it was too far. He turned to Taylor. "How do we share air in these things?"
The Captain's face was pale. "We don't," he said. "They're designed with integral back-ups. It's not supposed to be necessary."
O'Neill just stared. "Supposed by who?"
"Jack?" Daniel was starting to panic now, as his air began to thin.
The decision was made in an instant. "Teal'c, Taylor - get back to the gate, and get help. Daniel and I are going to the surface."
"But we don't know what's up there, sir," Taylor protested. "We don't even know if the atmosphere is breathable!"
"Then I guess we'll find out," Jack snapped, grabbing Daniel by the arm. He was breathing rapidly now, his eyes starting to droop with the first signs of oxygen depravation.
"But..." Taylor continued to protest, until Teal'c laid a large hand on the man's shoulder.
"We will return, O'Neill," he promised.
"Damned right!" Jack replied. "Now get out of here." As he spoke he was stripping weights from Daniel's suit, and his own. Then, yanking on the cords to inflate their buoyancy aids, they started a rapid ascent to the surface. If Jack had been able to cross his fingers, he would have done, because if the atmosphere up there wasn't breathable, Daniel was a dead man.
***
"Wormhole integrity failing, Sir," the lieutenant reported. "We'll have to close the gate in three minutes."
"They'll be here," General Hammond assured him calmly. But from the way his hands were clenched behind his back, Carter could tell he was anxious. Almost as anxious as she was.
"Someone's in transit sir!" The words sent a jolt of relief through her, and she allowed herself to smile. Cutting it fine, as always - typical Jack O'Neill. She watched as Teal'c and Captain Taylor strode through the gate, water streaming from their suits all over the floor. And she watched, and waited...
"General Hammond," Teal'c's voice crackled across the radio. "We have encountered a problem."
And as he spoke, the Stargate blinked shut, plunging the room into shadow. Carter's eyes met Hammond's in an instant of alarm, and they both bolted headlong for the door.
***
It was only the decreasing pressure that told Jack they were about to break the surface, for it was as dark above as it was below.
"Great," he muttered, hauling Daniel's head out of the water. The surface was strangely calm, for which he was grateful. A quick glance showed him that his friend was barely conscious, so wasting no time with worrying, Jack snapped open his own visor and took a deep breath. It smelt pretty stale, but seemed to do the trick. He breathed again, to be certain - no burning lungs, no blistering skin. Nope. Seemed okay. He quickly found the emergency release on Daniel's suit, and was relieved to hear a gasp of air and a spluttering cough.
"Easy," he warned, doing his best to keep both of their heads above water. "Just breath slowly, I don't want you hyperventilating."
As Daniel's awareness and strength returned, Jack glanced about him. His wristlight cast little illumination, but squinting through the darkness he thought he could see a pale light shining back at him.
"You see that?" he asked.
Still breathless, Daniel turned his head. "Phosphorescence," he coughed.
"As in plant life?"
"Probably."
"Huh," Jack smiled, "guess this is our lucky day after all. You think you're up to a swim?"
"Where to?"
"Plants have to grow on something, right?" Jack asked.
"Not necessarily," Daniel pointed out. "It could be a pile of seaweed."
"Always the optimist," Jack sighed. "Come on, we can't just float here forever - let's go."
They'd been swimming some time, when Daniel said: "Jack? When you said forever...?"
"Figure of speech," he assured him, trying to ignore the all consuming darkness. "They'll find us, no problem."
"Yeah," Daniel replied. "Sure they will."
***
Sam found it hard to stand still as she listened impatiently to Taylor's explanation. She was itching to go, to do something!
"But we don't even know what's on the surface!" Hammond growled. "The atmosphere could be poisonous."
"I tried to warn him," Taylor said, shaking his head. "But the Colonel doesn't listen to...."
"He had no choice, sir," Carter interrupted. "Daniel would've been dead before they reached the Stargate."
"And now they both might be," Taylor pointed out. She flashed him a deadly glare, and he looked away. But he was right, and she knew it. Always playing the damned hero, O'Neill, she thought. But to her surprise, she felt pride rather than dread; the debilitating panic she feared wasn't there.
Teal'c cut through her musings, and got straight to the point. "General Hammond, I must return immediately to assist O'Neill and Daniel Jackson."
"Agreed," Hammond replied, frowning at Taylor. "But re-opening the Stargate is going to be a problem, isn't it Captain?"
"I've calculated that the concussion wave will be over 100,000 PSI," he said quietly. "Their pressure suits won't withstand it."
"But they'll be on the surface," Carter pointed out. "They'll be tossed about a little, but they should survive."
Taylor looked rather sheepish. "I guess so," he admitted. "I hadn't factored that into my...."
"So, what are we waiting for?" Carter interrupted. "Let's grab some spare tanks and go!"
"We, Major?" Hammond asked her.
"Oh." She stopped in her tracks, and her heart sank as reality slammed home. She had no role to play here. It wasn't her responsibility anymore; it wasn't her team out there. And in that moment, she realised how stupid she'd been to think that she could just walk away from it, that she could reassign herself away from SG- 1. It was like trying to reassign yourself to a new family. SG-1 were her friends, her life, and however hard it was, she would always be part of that team. It was something she couldn't walk away from; it was something, she realised, that she didn't want to walk away from. "Sir," she said quietly, "I have to go."
"Major Carter," Hammond said slowly, "are you requesting a reassignment BACK to SG-1?" She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn there was a hint of a smile in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to ignore the fuming Captain Taylor, she said: "I guess I am, sir."
"Good," Hammond said abruptly. "Consider yourself reassigned. Now, get suited up, and go bring them home."
Carter grinned, her heart racing with a new found exhilaration. "Yes, sir!"
***
"Told you it was worth the swim," Jack said, as he pulled himself up onto the narrow shelf of rock. Above him, the cliff disappeared into the endless darkness, and the vast mass of it unnerved him a little. Not that he wanted Daniel to know that. "Here," he reached down to help his friend out of the water. "Now that's better, isn't it?"
Daniel was breathing heavily, and leaned back gratefully against the cliff face, closing his eyes. After a moment he said: "It's very still, isn't it?"
"What?"
"The air," he said. "It's very still."
"I guess so."
Opening his eyes, Daniel angled his flashlight upwards. It didn't illuminate much, but he was staring at something.
Jack followed his gaze and frowned. "What is it?"
"You see the way the cliff curves inward?"
"Uh-huh."
"I think we're in a cave."
"A cave? Great. I love caves."
Daniel looked at him sideways. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. All that rock hanging over your head, rising water and no way to get out? What's not to love?"
Daniel smiled slightly, his face wan and tired. "Well, I'm just glad we're not swimming anymore."
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "That's a plus."
"And I'm sure they'll find us soon."
"Real soon."
"Although," he sighed, "I can't help wishing Carter was on the case."
"Me too," Jack replied, with entirely more feeling than he'd intended. He missed now more than ever, and he couldn't stop thinking about her - her smile, her laugh, the exasperated way she looked at him sometimes. It just felt so wrong to be here without her, in fact, he was having a hard time imagining life in the SGC without her by his side. After a moment, he said "Daniel, do I listen to you enough?"
Daniel blinked in surprise. "Do you listen to me?"
"Yeah, you know - when you're rambling on about ancient civilisations and stuff?"
"Jack," Daniel said, amused, "I gave up trying to tell you anything years ago."
He frowned. Then it WAS true! He rubbed at his eyes, and sighed. "I'm sorry about that. You know, it's not that I'm not interested, it's just..."
"Jack," Daniel interrupted. "It's not a problem. I don't listen to you most of the time."
"You don't?"
"No! All that tactical stuff you go on about?" He shrugged. "I figure when the time comes you'll tell me to run, or get down or do something. That's your job, right? Archaeology is mine. We're a team."
Jack sighed, frowning into the darkness. "That's not what Carter thought."
"It isn't?"
"It's the reason she quit."
Daniel sat up straighter. "What is?"
"Me not listening to her explain things."
"I heard it was 'personal reasons'," Daniel said carefully.
Jack shrugged. "Yeah. And I'm the personal reason - because I don't listen to her."
"She told you that?"
There was an odd hint of humour in Daniel's voice, and when Jack turned to look at him he saw that his friend was smiling. It made him distinctly nervous. "Yeah," he said warily, "she told me that."
Daniel shook his head. "I don't know what's funnier," he chuckled, "that she thought you'd believe her, or that you did!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on Jack, Carter didn't leave because you're not interested in her science projects!"
Jack felt his heart start to race. "She didn't?"
"Jack," Daniel said, serious now, "she left because of the way she feels about you."
Now his stomach was starting to do very odd things. "And the way she feels would be?"
"She's in love with you, Jack."
"Oh," he breathed, as everything tumbled into place. "Damn. I'm an idiot."
"I can't believe you didn't know!"
"How could I know?" he protested.
Daniel shook his head. "You've been a soldier WAY too long, Jack."
"But why didn't she say anything?"
"Maybe for the same reason you've never said anything to her?"
Daniel's words hit far too close to the mark, and Jack's defences were raised in an instant. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't be ass, Jack. You think I don't know?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Know what?"
"Jack," Daniel said wearily. "I'm too tired for this. Sam is in love with you. You are in love with Sam. Both of you are too damned stubborn to do anything about it, so you're both miserable. End of story."
Put like that, the truth was hard to ignore. But while she'd been there, Major Carter, dependable, constant, always at his side, it had been easy to persuade himself that what he felt was some kind of comradely affection. So, okay, sometimes, he found his mind, and his eyes, wondering into places they really shouldn't be wondering, but that was only natural, right? She was an attractive woman. It didn't mean anything. And the fact that, if he closed his eyes, he could still feel her slender body in his arms, the weight of her head resting against his shoulder, and the scent of jasmine in her hair - well.... Well, okay, so he was crazy about her. He needed her in his life, and without her he was miserable. It was true. It was all true. Sighing heavily, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "It's not that simple, Daniel," he said after a long silence.
"Why not?"
"I'm her CO. It's not allowed."
"Um, Jack?"
"Uh-huh?"
"You're not."
"What?"
"Her CO. She's been reassigned, remember? To SG5?"
Jack felt as if dawn had suddenly crept over the horizon. "I..." he began, but for the first time in many, many years, he found himself at a loss for words. "Well, I'll be damned!"
Daniel grinned. "So, I guess I know what YOU'RE doing tonight!"
But Jack's answer was lost in a sudden, strange gurgling sound coming from the depths below. Scrambling to his feet, he scanned the water. "What the hell was that?"
Daniel edged himself upright. "Got me."
Staring at the water, Jack's sharp eyes noticed something. A faint, cold light shimmering way below, and he knew in an instant what is was. "The Stargate," he guessed. "They've opened the Stargate."
"Great!" Daniel smiled.
But Jack was less complaisant. "Daniel. Hold on."
"What?"
"To the rock. Hold on."
"Why...?"
"Just do it!" Jack snapped, his fingers searching the cliff face for a hand hold as his eyes remained fixed on the water's surface. The gurgling sound was louder now, getting closer. Suddenly, as he watched, the surface erupted into the air as the gate's compression wave forced tonnes of water upward. "Whoa!" Jack yelled, watching the huge water fountain. "Hold on!" The water exploded against the cave's ceiling, sending it crashing back down into the lake with such force that it sent ripples the size of immense waves racing outwards. Jack turned his face away before the first wave hit, but the force was still incredible. It slammed him hard against the cliff face, before dragging powerfully back, threatening to yank him into the water's embrace. He barely managed to keep hold of the slick rock, when a second wave crashed into him. He could feel his fingers slipping on the rock as the wave retreated, but then a third wave hit slamming him back against the cliff. His fingers burned with the effort of maintaining his hold, but as the wave retreated he managed to suck in a lung full of air, and risk a swift glance at Daniel. He was on his knees, a nasty cut to his head covering his face with blood.
"Daniel?!"
He looked up, eyes unfocused. SHIT! Jack cursed, as a fourth wave crashed over them. And when it was gone, so was Daniel.
***
As always when the gate opened, Sam felt a thrill of excitement. However many times she stepped into a new world, the wonder of it never ceased to fill her with awe. And this time was no different, in fact, it was only heightened by the pressing need to help her friends, and, if she was honest, by her anxiety about seeing O'Neill again. After their fight in the parking lot, she was apprehensive about his reaction to her return. Would he be glad, or would he object? Maybe he'd even refuse to have her back? Well, she figured, she'd know soon enough. So, straightening her shoulders, she put such thoughts firmly out of her mind and focused on the mission ahead.
"Major Carter," General Hammond's voice crackled over the radio, "you're cleared to go. Good luck."
"Thank you sir." She nodded at Teal'c, and they stepped together into the gate.
***
"Damn it!" Jack swore, scanning the frothing water with his wristlight, until, by some miraculous chance, he saw Daniel's bobbing head, as he struggled weakly to stay afloat. Jack dived into the maelstrom after him, swimming strongly until his hand touched his friend's arm. He held on tight, as the raging water smashed them back into the rocks, but the waves were loosing their fury, each one less powerful than the last, and Jack was able to keep Daniel's head above water as he clung, with one hand, to the shelf of rock. "Daniel," he yelled. "Can you hear me?"
"Jack?" his voice was weak, but at least he was conscious.
"You need to climb up onto the rock. You understand?"
"My head..."
"I know. I'm going to give you a shove, and you're going to pull up. You got that?"
"Got it."
It was a struggle, but eventually Daniel managed to drag himself out of the water, and Jack quickly followed. By now, the water had calmed, the waves just lapping at the stone; the storm had passed. "Well," Jack breathed, gasping for air, "that was fun."
But Daniel made no reply. He was out cold.
Anxiety beat loudly Jack's ears, as he checked to make sure his friend was breathing. He was, but his face was pale beneath the blood that poured from the wound on his forehead. Rummaging quickly through his med-kit, Jack pressed a bandage against Daniel's head to staunch the flow of blood. "Come on Teal'c," he muttered into the darkness. "Hurry up."
***
It took them almost twenty minutes to reach the point where Daniel's tanks had been damaged, and Carter resented every second of it. Her friends were up there somewhere, and needed her help - if the atmosphere hadn't poisoned them, or the compression wave hadn't drowned them. She felt the chill hand of dread close around her heart, but refused to give in to it, focusing instead on the mission. She would find them, and they'd be okay. She had to believe that.
"It was here." Teal'c's voice in her ear was a great relief.
"You're sure?"
He nodded, indicating a large piece of stone lying next to an elegant pillar. "I am sure."
"Right," she got down to business. "We're going to ascend pretty fast, so, take a deep breath and breath out slowly until we reach the surface. Okay?"
He nodded, already unbuckling his weight belt. She followed suit, and soon they were both speeding upwards. Her eyes were searching for light, for some indication they were approaching the surface, but there was nothing. For a horrible moment, she feared that maybe she had miscalculated their depth, or that, perhaps there was no surface and that she'd spend the rest of her days in this claustrophobic, featureless night. But even as her hopes were sinking, her head broke the surface. Glancing around quickly, she saw Teal'c close by, but there was no sign of Daniel or O'Neill. "We should try the radio," she said.
"Indeed." Teal'c made no move to do so himself, deferring to her rank. So, taking a deep breath, her stomach squirming with dread anticipation, she opened a channel and said: "Carter to O'Neill. Do you read me, sir?"
The hiss of static seemed to last forever, but eventually a voice said: "Carter?"
"Yes sir!" The relief almost made her laugh. "Are you okay? How's Daniel?"
"He's been better. Carter - where are you?"
"Um", she glanced around. "Well, on the water's surface. But, it's kind of dark."
"It's that all right." There was a pause. "Carter, open your visor. I'm going to try yelling."
"Yelling, sir?"
"Just do it."
"Yes sir." She shrugged at Teal'c, who merely raised an eyebrow, as they both snapped open their visors. The darkness was silent, and she strained her ears to listen. And then she heard him, distinct, if not close by: "Carter! Teal'c! Over here!"
Tapping her radio again, she said: "We hear you sir, keep yelling. We're on our way."
***
If Jack had been the sort of person who believed in fate, he'd have cursed it for conspiring against him right now. Just when he'd realised what was going on with Carter, and had come to understand the depth of his own feelings for her, she popped back up, apparently under his command again! He was her CO once more, and they were back to square one.
"So what do I do now, Daniel?" he asked his unconscious friend. "Yeah," he agreed with Daniel's silent reply. "It's a toughie all right." In the distance, a quiet splashing drew his attention and he got to his feet, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted: "Carter! This way! Over here!"
He watched the narrow beams from their wristlights come slowly into view, and found himself uneasy about seeing her again. Nothing had really changed between them, other than that he'd been forced to acknowledge a truth that had been there all along. Yet it made a difference; he couldn't pretend to himself that the little spark of joy she always inspired in him was anything other than what it was - love. He found himself glad that Daniel was still unconscious, grateful not to have to endure his friend's scrutiny of their meeting. And then, of course, there was the little matter of the fight they'd had, and the fact that he'd barely spoken a civil word to her since.
"She probably hates me," he muttered to himself. "That would solve a few problems." And break his heart at the same time, he realised with a sigh. Nope, the horse had well and truly bolted, and there was no point in trying to close the stable door now.
So, it was with a racing pulse, that he watched as two figures swam into view. Teal'c, moving powerfully through the water, encumbered by spare oxygen tanks, and Carter, a little behind, but showing no sign of flagging.
"O'Neill," Teal'c greeted him. "I am glad you survived."
"Yeah, me too."
"How is Daniel Jackson?"
Jack winced. "A little beat up, but I think he'll live. We got thrown around some when you...." He was suddenly acutely aware of Carter, bobbing in the water at his feet. He found he couldn't take his eyes off her, though she was studiously avoiding his gaze. Clearing his throat, he tried to continue - "when you opened the...um....." - and then he gave up. "Carter?"
She glanced up at him, looking as awkward as he felt. "Sir. Hi."
Not knowing how to deal with his tumultuous feelings, Jack lapsed into the familiar pattern. He raised an eyebrow: "So, what happened to Captain Taylor?"
"He, um," she began. "That is, I..." She stopped, looked him straight in the eye, and said: "I asked to be reassigned, sir."
"Again?"
"Yes sir."
"Well," he said, reaching down to help her out of the water, "two units in two weeks has to be some kind of record."
She hesitated before taking his hand, weighing his words to see if they were spoken in anger or jest. He decided to help her out, and flashed a brief smile. "Welcome back, Carter."
Her face lit up with a smile that sent his heart skipping, as she reached up and took hold of his hand. "Thank you, sir."
Her fingers were warm in his, and he was reluctant to let go once she stood next to him on the rock. He must have held on a little too long, because her eyes flashed to his, full of unspoken questions. Unable to answer them, he dropped her hand and turned away. "Daniel's not looking good," he said hastily. "We need to get him out of here ASAP."
"Sir," Carter said from behind him. "We have less than twenty-five minutes to get back to the gate before it closes."
"Are we going to make it?"
"Not if we use the same route that brought us here."
"What other route is there?"
Carter frowned. "Think of it like a triangle, sir. We walked along the bottom of the ocean..."
"It's a lake."
"Whatever. We walked along the bottom, and then came straight up - two sides of the triangle. The only way to get back before the gate closes is to go along the hypotenuse."
"You mean," Jack said, "we have to dive straight for the gate - do not pass go, do not collect $200?"
"That's about it."
"And you know where the gate is?"
"All I have to do is calculate the angle of the...." She stopped, and gave him a brief, self-conscious smile. "I know where the gate is, sir."
He returned her smile. "That's good enough for me, Carter."
The decent was hard going. Daniel's unconscious weight slowed their progress, even with both Teal'c and Jack pulling him through the water. But at last the glimmer of the Stargate was visible below.
"How long, Carter?" Jack asked.
Her voice crackled with static. "Five minutes sir. We'll make it."
"Sure we will," he agreed, and then turned to Teal'c. "You wanna speed things up a little?"
Teal'c understood, doubling his efforts so that Jack found himself breathing heavily by the time they reached the bottom.
"Two minutes sir," Carter said, as they walked the remaining distance across the bed of the lake. But eventually they stood before the gate, Teal'c scooped Daniel up into his powerful arms, and Jack let out a sigh of relief. He nodded at Teal'c, who, returning the gesture, carried Daniel into the Stargate and disappeared. Carter moved to follow, but Jack reached out to stop her, his hand resting on her shoulder.
"Carter," he began, unsure what he wanted to say.
"Sir?"
"I..." Her eyes were wide and puzzled, as she watched him from behind her visor. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful. "I..." he began again, and then backed out. "Good work."
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Thank you sir."
He wanted to say more - to tell her everything, to hold her, to kiss the face that was gazing at him so curiously, but he didn't know where to begin. He cleared his throat and said: "Carter, I...."
"Sir?" she interrupted. "We have thirty seconds before the gate closes."
His hand tightened on her shoulder. "Carter, I...I think we'd better go." He just had time to see the confusion in her eyes, before, keeping his hand on her shoulder, he steered her into the gate.
***
Lying in the infirmary, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the pneumatic drill boring into his head, Daniel heard the Colonel before he saw him.
"How is he?" Jack asked.
"Conscious," Janet replied. "He's got a nasty concussion, so I'm going to keep him here for the night. But he'll be fine."
"Can we see him?"
"Sure, but keep it quick. He needs to rest."
Turning his head gingerly, Daniel watched as Jack and Sam trooped in to the room. "Hey," he managed weakly.
"You look better," Jack noted, pulling up a seat and sitting down. "You got stitches?"
"Five," he replied. Then, looking up at Sam he said: "I hear I have you to thank for bringing me back?"
She reached down and squeezed his hand. "Any time."
"So, does that mean you're back?" he asked. "With SG-1?"
Sam nodded, casting a quick glance at O'Neill. "Yeah. I'm back."
"Just like the old days," Jack added, with a significance Daniel understood. He was her CO again, and any relationship between them was once more prohibited. Closing his eyes, Daniel sighed; damned stupid military rules, trying to tell people who they could and couldn't fall in love with! As if you ever had a choice!
"You're tired," Sam said, misreading his sigh. "We should let you get some rest."
"No it's..." he began.
But she was determined. "Get some sleep Daniel, I'll come by tomorrow and see how you're doing." She glanced over at Jack. "Good night, sir."
"'Night, Carter," he replied, with a curt nod.
Her lips tightened into a resigned grimace, and she turned and left the room. Jack watched her go, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on the door long after it had closed. Daniel remained silent, until Jack roused himself and abruptly stood up. "Well, I guess Carter's right," he said. "Feel better, Daniel."
But before he could leave, Daniel reached out and grabbed his arm. "Don't risk loosing her, Jack," he said quietly. "It's not worth it."
O'Neill frowned. "I told you, it's complicated."
"No it's not," Daniel insisted. "You love her, she loves you - the rest are details."
Jack laughed humourlessly. "Details?" he asked. "Being reassigned away from the SGC, maybe even facing a disciplinary? Those are details?"
"Believe me," Daniel said, with feeling, "when you loose the one you love, the one person in the whole universe who completes you, nothing else matters. Nothing." He stopped for a moment, before adding. "Don't let that happen to you. Or to Sam."
Jack shook his head slightly, reaching down to remove Daniel's hand from his arm. "Get some sleep," he said, and turned away, striding quickly from the room.
Daniel sighed and closed his eyes. "I guess they really do enjoy torturing themselves," he muttered.
***
As Sam left the locker room, her hair still damp from the shower, she noticed Jack someway down the hall, leaning idly against the wall. She watched him for a moment, but he was deep in thought, and so, with a shrug, she headed off in the opposite direction, towards the elevators and home. But she hadn't gone far when he called her name.
"Hey, Carter, wait up!"
She turned. "Sir?"
"Going home?" he asked, eyeing the bag over her shoulder.
She nodded silently.
"Good." He paused, frowned, glanced down at his boots, and looked back up again, his eyes serious. "We need to talk," he said at last.
"We do?" Her heart started to race. ABOUT WHAT? she wanted to ask. ABOUT WHAT, JACK?
"About what happened the other day," he said, as if reading her mind. "In the parking lot?"
"Oh, that." She dropped her gaze, uncomfortable. "I owe you an apology for that sir."
"No, it's okay," he said. "I just wanted to know..." He trailed to a halt, unusually hesitant for a man who liked to get straight to the point. "The 'personal reason' you had for leaving - have you," he shrugged, "have you gotten over it?"
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and contemplated lying. But deceit wasn't in her nature, so, instead, she said: "Let's just say I think I can handle it now. I wasn't sure I could for a while, but I've done some thinking and I'm pretty confident I can deal with it."
Jack narrowed his eyes slightly. "But the 'problem' is still there?"
Sam frowned. He almost sounded hopeful! "Well, essentially, sir, yes. But it won't effect my performance again. I can assure you of that."
He smiled. "I never doubted it, Carter."
After a long, silent moment, she said: "Was there anything else, Colonel?"
Jack nodded slowly: "Yes. Yes, I think there is." He paused. "I wanted to apologise for what I said about SG5 being welcome to you. That was - nasty. Plus, it was a lie." A little thrill of relief made her smile at his words, but before she could speak he continued. "And to make it up to you, I'm going to make you dinner."
She stared. "Dinner, sir?"
"Why not?" He glanced at the ceiling. "I hear it's a beautiful evening up there - perfect for a barbecue."
"It's really not necessary," she protested, even as her stomach tied itself into knots of excitement. Was he asking her to dinner?!
"I want to," Jack said, quietly. "Indulge me."
Her better judgement told her that this was a very bad idea, but she simply couldn't resist. "Well, if you insist, sir."
"I do," Jack said. "My place, seven o'clock." He started to leave, but at the last moment glanced over his shoulder: "Oh, and Carter? Bring a couple of beers."
"Yes sir," she replied, nonplussed. "Beers."
***
Okay, so he knew Daniel was right. Daniel was always right. Well, most of the time anyway, and always when it mattered. And this mattered. This mattered big time. Two weeks without her had taught him all he needed to know about his own feelings, and he knew now that he couldn't do without her. He needed her in his life, and he couldn't risk loosing her for the sake of military protocol. He knew that. But, and there was always a but, Jack O'Neill was still a Colonel. He'd bent a few rules in his time, bent some so far they'd damn near snapped, but he still respected them. He understood what they were for, they made sense to him, and he wouldn't break one now. More importantly, he refused to lead Carter into breaking one. He was her CO, and he still felt responsible for her. And so, he needed to know how far this particular rule could be stretched. Okay, so it wasn't exactly romantic, but it had to be done. He was still Colonel O'Neill, after all - he couldn't help it.
"General Hammond?" Jack poked his head around the door. "You got a minute?"
"What is it Colonel?" the General asked, glancing up from his paperwork.
"It's, um, a personal matter."
A slightly pained look crossed the General's face, and he let out a little sigh: "Well, I guess you'd better come in," he said.
"Thank you sir." Jack closed the door behind him, frowned for a moment as he considered where to start, and then said: "General, hypothetically speaking..."
"Hypothetically?"
"Yes sir. Hypothetically." He cleared his throat, and shifted a little awkwardly under the General's intense scrutiny: "If two of members of one of your teams were to," he paused, considering his choice of words, "were to start a relationship - a romantic relationship - what would your view be on that? Sir. Hypothetically."
Hammond took a deep breath, his lips pursed into a straight line. "Well, Colonel, if such a situation were to arise I think I'd prefer my view on it to be obscured."
"Sir?"
The General fixed him with a meaningful stare: "I'd rather not know, Colonel. I'd rather not have to take an official view on it."
Jack nodded. "So - if such a relationship were discrete...?"
"And didn't effect the performance of the officers involved."
"...then you'd be okay with it?"
"No," the General said slowly, "because I wouldn't know anything about it."
Jack considered. "Right," he nodded. "Thank you sir. I think." He turned to leave, but Hammond called him back.
"Jack?" he said, a small smile touching his lips. "I'm glad Carter reconsidered her decision to leave SG-1. You make a good team."
"Yes, sir," Jack agreed, with a smile of his own, "I think we do."
***
This is a very bad idea, Sam told herself as she pulled up in Jack's driveway. She figured that one of two things would happen that night - something or nothing. If something happened, then they'd be opening a whole can of military worms, and if nothing happened, she thought the frustration would probably drive her insane. Either way, it would be bad. "I should just keep my distance," she muttered, switching off the engine but not leaving her car. "Just keep it professional, see him at work and nowhere else." But even as she was talking, she found herself glancing in the rear view mirror, checking her appearance. She'd spent at least an hour that evening trying to decide what she should wear. How do you dress for dinner with your boss? The boss you're secretly in love with? Her wicked side had campaigned for sexy - put him on the spot, and see what happened. But her rational side had vetoed that idea right away. "We're just friends," she repeated to herself, as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. "Just colleagues, having dinner together." And if she'd spent a little extra time on her hair and make-up, so what? Men never noticed that sort of thing anyway.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the six-pack of beers from the passenger seat, and got out of the car. "Just friends," she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. "Just relax and be yourself."
But as she climbed the few steps to his porch, her pulse started racing, and her mouth turned suddenly dry. Don't be ridiculous, she scolded herself, taking a deep breath and struggling to remain calm. But it only had a limited effect, and so, ignoring the way even her fingertips were tingling with anticipation, she rapped on the door and forced a smile onto her lips. It seemed like an age before he answered, and her mind was beginning to whirr with the wild possibility that he had forgotten, when the door opened.
"Hey, Carter," Jack smiled. "Come in."
"Thanks." She held out the beer. "As requested sir." As he took them from her, she noticed him studying her with an odd sort of intensity. She frowned: "Sir?"
"Hmm?"
"What is it?"
"You," he told her. "You look different - nice - this evening."
She felt herself blush. "Oh, well I...thank you. Sir."
He winced. "Carter, don't do that."
"Do what?"
"It's Jack. Not sir."
She gave him an arch smile: "Okay. Then it's Sam, not Carter."
"I think I can manage that - Sam." He smiled again, a gentle smile that touched his eyes with a warmth she wanted to lose herself in. His eyes held her for a long time. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he leaned closer until she could feel his breath against her cheek, and for a wild moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. But at the last minute he looked abruptly away, and stepped aside. "Um," he muttered, "why don't you go through?"
She nodded, her heart too full to speak. God, this was a bad idea!
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. They chatted about work, about Daniel and his propensity to end up in the infirmary, about whether Teal'c would ever crack a joke, and about other all the other nothings that they shared. Sam began to relax, aided by a beer and a substantial amount of barbecue, as they laughed, and grew serious, laughed some more and, at length, fell into a companionable silence. As the final rays of the sun sank beneath the horizon, and the stars came out to take over the sky, Sam stretched out in her chair, let her head sink back, and gazed up into the night.
"Do you ever look at them and wonder?" she asked quietly.
Jack sat nearby, nursing the remains of a beer. "Wonder what?" he asked.
"Which is which."
He glanced up. "Have we actually been to a star?" he asked her. "I thought they were kinda hot."
She chuckled, still gazing upwards. "They're not all stars," she told him. "Some of them are planets." She sighed, and raised her head to look at him. "It's so strange to think that it's all up there somewhere - everywhere we've been, everyone we've met...."
He smiled at her, shaking his head slightly. "I guess I never really thought about it like that."
"No," she agreed. "To you it's work - risks, tactics, alliances."
"That sounds like an accusation."
She smiled, turning back to the stars. "It's not meant to be. You're just a down to earth kind of guy - so to speak."
"Unlike you?" Jack asked quietly.
Sam was silent for a moment, wondering how much to say, how much to open up. "I know the science," she said, "I know how it works, but sometimes, I just get lost in the wonder of it all."
She heard him give a short, soft, laugh. "You're a romantic, Sam."
"I am," she admitted with a sigh. "But don't tell, it's my little secret."
He didn't reply, and for a long time all she could hear was the singing of the crickets. Then she heard him shift slightly in his chair, and she raised her head again. He was watching her, his gentle brown eyes dark in the starlight, his face serious. "I," he began, suddenly awkward, "I heard you had another secret."
Her heart dropped so far and fast she thought it would start oozing out the toes of her boots. ANOTHER SECRET? OH, GOD, NO. HE CAN'T KNOW. PLEASE, GOD, HE DOESN'T KNOW! "A secret?" she replied, proud of the fact that her voice barely trembled. "What do you mean?"
Sitting forward, so close he could have touched her, Jack said. "About why you wanted to leave SG-1?"
She sat up, mortification slowly turning her cold. "Who...?" she began, but her voice failed. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Who told you that?"
Jack's eyes narrowed slightly, as if her question pained him. "Let's just say, a mutual friend."
JANET! HOW COULD SHE? HOW DARE SHE? I'LL KILL HER, I'LL KILL HER WITH MY BARE HANDS! The thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant, as the full horror of her situation crashed over her like an icy wave. HE KNOWS. OH, GOD, I WANT TO DIE. She lurched to her feet, backing away from him, desperate to escape.
Jack stood up, taking a step towards her. "Sam..."
But she backed off, stumbling against the table. "I..." she stammered. "I didn't want you to know. I never thought...." Afraid that if she didn't get herself under control she might fly apart entirely, Sam dragged her emotions into check. She forced herself to take a deep, deliberate breath and to stand still, even if she couldn't force herself to look at his face. "Sir," she began again, in a strained but coherent voice. "I know that this puts you in a very awkward position, but I assure you that anything I feel..." He moved closer, his presence as powerful as a physical force, threatening to shatter her fragile control. "Sir, I assure you that my personal feelings will never affect how I...and, I certainly don't expect you to share my...."
"Carter?" He spoke gently but firmly, and despite herself she raised her eyes to his. He said nothing for a moment, just looked at her, and then he placed a finger over her lips. "Shhh," he murmured, as he traced the outline of her mouth. Sam couldn't have spoken a word just then if her life had depended on it. His fingers caressed the line of her jaw until they rested lightly on her chin, tipping her face upward as he leaned close and kissed her softly. Despite her astonishment, his gentle kiss ran through her like warm honey; it spoke of love and tenderness and demanded nothing in return.
The moment lasted forever, but was over all too soon. And as his lips left hers, reality slowly penetrated Sam's romantic haze. "Sir, we shouldn't...." she began in a voice thick with emotion, backing away once more.
"Oh, yeah," he breathed, in an unsteady voice, "we definitely should."
But she shook her head. "No. It's not allowed."
"I know," he nodded, reaching out and catching her hand in his. "But I can't help myself."
"We'll get reassigned," she protested, pulling her hand away. "I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bare not to be with...." She found herself on the edge of tears, and refusing to give way, stopped speaking.
Jack's face was suddenly full of doubt. "Sam, if you don't want this...?" He reached for her hand again, but she refused. "Sam, I don't want to force you into anything you don't want. If I've misread how you feel....?"
"No," she whispered. "No, you haven't. I've wanted this for so long, Jack, but I never dreamed it could happen. And how can it? You know the rules - you're my CO, one, or both of us, would be reassigned. Away from the SGC. I don't think either of us could stand that!"
"Well," Jack said, reaching up and brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, "I don't think that'll happen."
"But...?"
"Can you really imagine General Hammond getting rid of either of us?"
"He wouldn't have a choice."
Jack smiled. "We'll be discrete."
She shook her head. Discrete? The whole SGC would know before lunchtime! "I should go," she muttered, trying to pull away.
But he reached out and gripped her shoulders. "Don't," he said, "don't go."
"I have to - it's for the best...." She backed away, and he released his hold on her.
Turning abruptly, she was about to step back inside the house when he said: "Sam, I love you." She stopped dead, too effected to move. "Whatever happens tonight, I'll still love you," he said, in a voice charged with emotion. "No damned rules can change that. Nothing can change that."
For a moment she didn't move. Damn you, Jack O'Neill, she cursed, through silent tears that fell unchecked. Why did you have to say that? I could have done it if you hadn't said that. I could have walked away. She remained motionless, paralysed by indecision. How could she leave now? He loved her! He'd told her that he loved her! Yet how could she stay? She was risking so much - her career, HIS career, the best damn job on the planet.... But if she left? What would she lose then? Something she was yearning for heart and soul. The chance for a deeper happiness than she had ever known - a happiness more profound than anything she might discover through the Stargate. When it came right down to it, there really was no choice to make.
She turned slowly to face him, wiping at the tears that streaked her face. He was watching her intently, but made no move towards her - the decision was hers. Sam smiled, she had made her choice and her heart lifted with a sudden burst of joy. "Discrete?" she asked, sniffing a little, not sure if she were still crying or about to laugh.
"Totally."
"You think we can do that?"
He reached out for her, and she took his hands, letting him pull her into his embrace. "Oh yeah," he grinned, holding her tight. "You and me, Carter? We can do anything."
She closed her eyes for a moment, burying her face against his shoulder, not quite believing where she was - in his arms at last! And it felt so right, so safe - just like coming home. And then she smiled, her heart bursting with high spirits, as she wound her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer: "You know, Jack," she whispered, brushing his lips with a kiss, "as a scientist, I think we should test that theory."
Catching her meaning, Jack grinned, a wicked glint sparkling in his eyes. "Are you talking about a practical experiment?"
"Probably more than one," she told him. "Think you're up to the challenge?"
"Oh, yeah," he promised, kissing her with a sudden, fierce, desire that set her alight. "I can handle it."
"Yes," she whispered, when she'd managed to catch her breath. "I'm getting that."
***
Daniel felt better. The pain in his head was bearable, and the nausea had been replaced by a gnawing hunger. A hunger that almost made the military issue goo Dr Fraiser had given him seem appetising.
"What is it?" he asked, poking at it suspiciously.
Janet peered over the chart she was working on: "Looks like oatmeal."
"Really?"
She shrugged. "Or it could be grits."
Tentatively, he raised half a spoonful to his lips and tasted. "Oatmeal," he decided. "I think."
Just then the door swung open. "Good morning," Jack called, in an unusually cheerful voice. "How're you doing?"
"Better, thanks," Daniel replied, exchanging a surprised glance with the doctor. O'Neill was never cheerful in the morning.
"Good." He wondered around to the other side of the bed, and sat down with a yawn. "You want that?" he asked, indicating a limp piece of toast on Daniel's tray.
"It's yours," Daniel said, eyeing him suspiciously. "Hungry?"
Jack flashed him a quick grin. "Oh, yeah," he said, taking a mouthful of toast. "Very hungry."
"Hi, Daniel," Sam's head popped around the door. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better. Come in."
"I can't stop," she explained, as she stepped inside, "I'm on my way to a briefing with...."
"Morning Carter," Jack called.
She hadn't noticed him, and started at the sound of his voice. "Colonel," she replied carefully, looking very much as though she were suppressing a smile.
"I hope you slept well?" Jack continued, with something that could only be described as a twinkle in his eyes.
Sam's eyes widened a little, as if she couldn't believe what he'd just said, and her mouth twitched towards a grin that she ruthlessly suppressed. "Yes sir, very well. Thank you." And then, as if issuing a dare, she added: "And you?"
"Incredible," he told her. "I mean, I slept incredibly well." This time, Carter's grin escaped her, and she was forced to look away.
Daniel glanced between them, and noticed Fraiser doing the same thing. Their eyes met, and Janet's widened as a grin spread over her face, but she turned back to her work in silence.
Daniel couldn't be so discrete. "So?" he asked.
Jack shrugged. "So what?"
"What's happened?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, come on!"
Jack shook his head. "I don't know what you mean." He turned to Carter. "You know what he means?"
"No idea sir."
Jack shot him a grin. "Enjoy your breakfast, Daniel," he said, standing up and heading for the door. "Come on Carter, we'll be late."
Sam gave Daniel a little, apologetic shrug. "Yes sir," she said, following Jack to the door. But as they left, Daniel distinctly saw a smile flash between them, with all the heat and intensity of a starburst.
"I saw that!" he called, but Jack just waved a dismissive hand at him and shut the door.
"At last!" Janet exclaimed the moment the door had closed.
"No kidding!" Daniel agreed, a smile creeping across his face. "You know, I've seen a lot of incredible things since I joined the SGC, but that...?"
"Nothing short of a miracle," Janet nodded.
"Amen to that."
THE END!
Thanks for reading! If you loved it or hated it, let me know at salxtom@netscapeonline.co.uk
Story Notes: Email: salxtom@netscapeonline.co.uk
Season/sequel info: After season 3
Spoilers: None
Archive: SJ - yes.
Notes: I only started watching Stargate SG-1 a couple of months ago, and this is my first piece of SG fan fiction. So, apologies in advance for any glaring inconsistencies - especially anything technical! Hope you enjoy it, and do let me know what you think!! Feedback is always welcome!
Season/sequel info: After season 3
Spoilers: None
Archive: SJ - yes.
Notes: I only started watching Stargate SG-1 a couple of months ago, and this is my first piece of SG fan fiction. So, apologies in advance for any glaring inconsistencies - especially anything technical! Hope you enjoy it, and do let me know what you think!! Feedback is always welcome!
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 ]