"Jonbar Point"
He had the worst possible timing, Sam had thought. The one time he decided to be early for anything, she was still struggling with a rebellious earring and had to run to the door, zipping up her dress in the process.
"You're very..."
She opened the door. She blinked, almost forgetting to breathe, then finished the sentence:
"...early."
"Or very late. Depends on how you look at the situation."
*The situation*... The words "awkward moment of silence" didn't even begin to describe it.
"Ah... Colonel... come in," Sam finally managed, realizing how weird they must have looked, standing on her doorstep in complete silence.
Jack O'Neill stepped in, quietly following her into the living room.The dim lights revealed a fresh bruise starting to form on his left cheekbone.
"What happened?" She was gazing at the aftermath of an impressively well-placed punch.
"Apparently, I was under dressed for a field trip to the Oval Office. Though calling the President a lying, scheming, arrogant asshole might have had something to do with it."
She could almost see the look on Kinsey's face and she almost smiled.
"They make Secret Service agents younger and faster these days," he said, gingerly touching the impact site, not a bit self-conscious about being so unceremoniously kicked out of the White House.
"I'll get you some ice."
"It's O.K... I'll live."
"Sir...""
Jack cut her off, though he didn't manage to sound half as harsh as he'd intended.
"As of last week, the military doesn't exist anymore... It's official, remember?"
As if she could forget... "Last week" had been memorable, to say the least. Things had been said, doors had been slammed, old wounds had been opened, next to a set of fresh ones.
"You can use my name now with the added bonus of not having to take any crap from me."
"When did I ever do that?"
She headed for the kitchen and moments later came back with a bag of ice which she shoved in his face. He took it without protest, still convinced ignoring pain was the best technique.
He spoke in his trademark casual style:
"You're probably wondering what the hell I'm doing here."
"I was a little... surprised. Wanna sit down?"
"No...I'm not staying..."
She wasn't sure but she'd known the man long enough to realize that behind that smooth surface there was a storm coming up. Was Jack O'Neill... nervous?!
"I want you to know that I feel the same," he mumbled defensively, then quickly added: "...about the Aschen. But being right doesn't make it O.K. for me to be a jackass."
As far as apologizing went, that was as much as he was ever going to give in.
"Being right doesn't make it O.K for me to be a self-righteous bitch. We'll just call it even."
This time she smiled. The smile before all the arguing and bitterness. His smile. Oh, she wasn't going to make this easier for him.
"You were right about one thing. The war IS over. I give up."
The tone of his voice worried her more than the confession itself.The uncharacteristic stillness, the feeling of helplessness... His fingers had been desperately looking for something to fiddle with and finally rested on the bag of ice she'd brought earlier. He *was* nervous.
"S...Jack... as cliche as this sounds, this is not an ending. Everything we've ever fought for and more... This vaccine they're announcing tonight..."
That amazing sparkle in her eyes was back as well. For years, it had eclipsed everything else in his life, even the bewitching glow of an active gate.
"No, Carter, this is *your* life. What makes you think I want to live for another hundred years? What for? Watch Kinsey get re-elected for the fifteenth time? As much as I love that place, spending the next century alone at my cabin isn't worth yet another needle experience."
She felt like she'd taken a direct hit. He wasn't accusing her of anything, never would... which only made it infinitely worse... Somewhere at the back of her mind, the alarm bells were ringing. Oh, God... this couldn't be...
"There are no fish in that lake, by the way."
"I'm shocked!... So... you're going to Minnesota?"
"For a while... Then we'll see." The distinctive sound of the phone ringing cut through the increasingly palpable tension. Sam was fighting for words as part of her began realizing what was going on.
"It's probably..."
"I know..." Jack's voice was barely a whisper. "Don't answer!"
The phone rang again, kept ringing... Sam didn't budge.
"I came here tonight... because things should be... different..."
Damn the man! He would never stop trying to bring down her carefully-built strategies, never cease to amaze her... Only this time there was no force shield. She would have ignored that phone call forever. And then she remembered...
"Hi, sweetheart! I hope you can't pick up cause you're getting ready. This is the one time in my life I wouldn't want to be late. I mean, it took you a year to finally say yes... Anyway, I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes. Bye!"
...the answering machine.
For a split second she could see the effects of a massive door being slammed shut between them, until his face turned into the cold, unreadable mask she'd been faced with only days before.
"Goodbye, Carter," he said evenly, without the faintest trace of anything akin to human emotion in his voice.
And before she could gather more than two words in a coherent sentence, he was gone.
***********
The night had gone by excruciatingly slowly and yet, it felt like lightning flashing past her. Outwardly, it had been picture perfect (and there had been no shortage of people anxious to use their cameras.) She had smiled, chatted, answered questions--no matter how idiotic--even danced, and generally did an excellent job of not screwing everything up. The inside was a very different story.
She suspected Joe hadn't bought it but he would never say anything. Not only was he a gentleman, but the circumstances were rather... unusual. She didn't know a lot of couples who went to the White House on their first date. During one of the most crucial events in the history of mankind. For which they were directly responsible. But as soon as Joe had kissed her goodnight and she'd closed the door behind him and behind that surreal evening, the silent wave of rage overwhelmed her, rooting her to the spot where she and the Colonel had stood a few hours before.
He would never be back now, that much she knew. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a whole new chapter in her life, one where everything would be... different. But tonight she hated Joe... almost as much as she hated herself. She was still choking on the word..."yes." This time she would have said "yes", would have thrown it all away and would have said "yes." One word... The answer to the three little words she could read with perfect clarity in his eyes, as they stood in the middle of the room, a phone ringing somewhere in the distant background... "Come. With. Me."
The End.
Jonbar Point by Emma
Story Notes: Thank you to my fabulous beta readers!
E-MAIL: bluejello_em@yahoo.com
E-MAIL: bluejello_em@yahoo.com
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 ]