"Bless this man."
Sam spoke the words quietly but aloud to herself in the privacy of her lab. It had became her daily devotion, her Matins and Compline, bookending her long, underground day.
A soft half-giggle escaped her lips. The chaplain who had confirmed her would have a fit at her misuse of such holy terms. But, then again, maybe not. In the battle against the false gods, the Go'auld, perhaps there had been some divine intervention. Not the Sunday School faith of her youth for sure. Nor was it the technicolor wonder of Charlton Heston's Moses. But something.
The term luck had often been applied to the exploit's of SG-1. Perhaps blessed was just as relevant. Neither could be scientifically proven. Sam would be the first to admit, probably with Daniel's concurrence, she had no idea of how to reconcile Holy Writ with what had come thru this lab and into her life these past seven years. But of one thing she was certain - good had come from the struggle and sacrifice, both for the world and for her. She finished her soft giggle as she realized her thoughts again had come full circle back to Jack.
"Bless this man," she repeated.
When she had first come to the SGC, her laptop screen saver had been a series of photographs taken by the Hubble telescope - star clusters, nebula, distant galaxies. Then she had inserted a image of the Stargate taken from the Control Room. Most recently, as the struggle escalated in cost of human life and desperation, she had substituted earth rise, the shot taken by some Apollo mission of earth rising above the lunar landscape.
Now she had changed again. Following the climactic battle over Antarctica, after weeks of futile effort to revive O'Neill, the return to find his flowers and note - now her laptop displayed a photograph of a vase filled with spring flowers. Leaning against the vase was a picture of one Colonel Jack O'Neill. Teal'c must have shot the original photograph. Jack was leaning against the front porch of his cabin. A fishing pole and line were in his hands. Teal'c probably called the colonel's name just before he had taken the picture. Jack's eyes were wide in almost childlike innocence, his mouth open in a partial smile as if he had just spoken his famous, "What?"
She keyed it so it appeared as she entered her password at start up, could come up on command, or was the last thing she saw as she shut down. Now that "it" was out of the room, even though he was not present, she cherished this reminder that he was still with her.
Bless this man.
Sam wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking or a prayer. Many prayers had been said of late: for the Nimitz battle group (over 10,000 people and 15 ships), personnel at various communication installations around the globe, one third of the X-302 pilots and various crew of the Prometheus.
The meteor story hadn't held for long. Too many people had good telescopes. It hadn't been that hard to get a look at the ships of Anubis' fleet in low orbit to either bombard key targets or disgorge his Deathgliders and troop transports. The first pictures appeared - where was it, Chile, Australia or New Zealand? As the ships came down to close on Antarctica they were seen.
Thankfully SG-1 had missed all that mess. They were still at the Ancient's outpost at the bottom of the world. Working with the Prometheus crew and others to clean up the debris of battle and trying to find something, anything that would help them revive Jack.
Bless this man, she had finally added a third term to her vocabulary. No longer just colonel or sir. He was also now Jack.
While the military licked its wounds, buried its dead, and finally admitted it didn't have a clue what to do or not do to help O'Neill, the world for a time turned upside down and then righted itself. Using Bergman's videos and the current president's incredible charm and political savvy, the Stargate, or at least an advanced space exploration effort, was made public. Dr. Weir was displayed as the head of what was becoming a civilian agency, much like the early space program evolved from military test program to become NASA.
NORAD and SGC still had their secure levels. But a large room formerly reserved as an emergency bunker was reconfigured for public use, both for press and (ugh) tourists! Even Daniel wasn't sure about this but the decision was made by others. Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow and murmured something that sounded like, "Murray lives."
At the entryway were the requisite displays of federal bureaucracy. Utilitarian cement and gray paint were covered with bright colors and tile. One welcome addition, which could not be missed, was a Wall of Remembrance. It was comprised of two sections, one listing those Killed In Action and the other, those Missing in Action. The KIA list started with Kawalski. The MIA list ended with O'Neill.
Bless this man.
He knew. Not just that something could, might, would happen to him. He knew how he felt about Sam and he knew how she felt about him. She had tried to tell him that day at his house. But at least they had that moment on the transport. She still didn't get it out. But either Ancient telepathy or his own common sense finally kicked in and he told her, "I know."
Bless this man.
As the public's attention was held by the politicians and refocused back to Washington, the SGC worked at coming up with what would be the new normal routine. They'd sent word to the rebel Jaffa of the defeat of Anubis. Messages were transmitted to the Tok'ra of both the victory and requesting aid for O'Neill but no response was forthcoming. A similar message had been sent to the Asgaard with similar results.
Sam yawned. She had to quit for the day. Too many days and nights with too little sleep. She realized she wasn't doing good work for the new administrator, wasn't at her best for what was now "her" team, wasn't doing herself any good. More importantly she wasn't doing Jack any good.
Taking one last look at his face, she closed down her laptop . As she headed for her on base quarters she found her mind wandering; recalling looks Jack had given her, phrases that in retrospect either had double meaning or were freudian slips.
Sam found herself daydreaming about what might of been. They all had leave coming. Would Jack ask her to go fishing? If they had a future could they be together as more than CO and 2iC? Where would they live? Would they have kids and what would they name them? "NOT Homer", she swore. She imagined Jack smiling at that.
Entering her quarters, she shut the door and debated undressing or just lying down. The internal debate was interrupted as her attention focused on the leather bound box on her desk. . Roughly four inches wide and eight inches long. Sam opened it once again to gaze on its contents. It was a medal. Jack's medal.
Hammond got his third star and a Distinguished Flying Cross with clusters for his actions with the Prometheus. His grandkids would have to wait a little while longer for his full attention. He was now responsible for integrating the new technology with existing forces.
The SGC received a presidential unit citation which singled out SG-1 for exemplary action. Medals of Freedom were sent for Daniel and Teal'c.
Carter had declined the president's offer for recognition. The promotion to Lieutenant Colonel she would accept as soon as she decided whether to stay in the lab and work with Hammond or stick with Weir in the SGC.
She smiled remembering her conversation with the president. Sam could imagine Jack and the president talking. They'd probably end up at O'Malley's settling things over steak and beer.
As her meeting with the president ended, he had handed her the box that was now on her desk. He had told her to give it to Jack, next time she saw him. A citation went with it, "... for actions above and beyond the call of duty." Sam had met one or two holders of the Congressional Medal of Honor before. Jack was the first she had known
Tired, too tired. Don't bother undressing. Just collapse on the bed. Sleep. Get with Daniel again tomorrow. Maybe ask Dr. Weir to try and contact dad or Thor again.
As her eyes closed for sleep she could hear the gate activation alarm. Once upon a time she would have been among the first into the Control Room but now she remained in bed.
She was on stand down. Daniel was off base until the next day. Teal'c would come get her if it was anything important. Weir could handle this. Besides, it still didn't feel right to stand in the Control Room without him, without Jack.
Bless this man.
Falling into sleep Sam just barely heard the announcements.
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"Unscheduled gate activation"
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"SG-1 identification"
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"Major Carter to the gate room. Major Carter to the gate room."
She was out the door and down the hall before her blanket hit the floor.
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the end
Story Notes: CLASSIFICATION: Angst, Hope - sequel to "Damn that Man"
SPOILERS: End of seventh season
SPOILERS: End of seventh season
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 ]