Pairing: SJ. If you don't like them together, don't bother.
AN: I suppose this is vaguely appropriate for Valentines Day or pre-Valentines, though that wasn't my intention. This has been kicking around in my head for quite some time. I've worked on it, put it down and come back to it. Some of it is fairly personal and I'm not sure how it really plays for Sam and Jack, but I seemed compelled to write it. I considered not publishing it at all, but decided I should. Frankly, the end parts took on a life of their own. I didn't really intend to bring Daniel in at all, but he appeared and wouldn't shut up, so there you go. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, they'd be together in Canon.
Of Chick Flicks and Other Things
Jack liked chick flicks. Okay, so maybe he didn't really like chick flicks, so much has he liked Carter's reaction to chick flicks.
A soft snort puffed a brief plume of white in the cold air, followed by a longer stream of released breath, as Jack walked across the parking lot toward the video store. He was on a quest to fine a chick flick for movie night with Carter. Check that - Sam - not Carter, dolt.Yes, this movie night was definitely with Sam. Danny and T were off to their own pursuits.
Carter had never and would never ask or consent to watch a "chick flick" in company with the Team, but Sam, after an initial period of shy reticence, looked forward to them, but only when they were alone.
It was purely by accident that Jack had stumbled onto the difference of watching movies with Sam verses Carter. He could be a bit dense when it came to emotions. Well, dense was probably being polite, really. Just shy of stupid was much more likely. It was an odd thing, Jack reflected, where Life Lessons could find a person. Jack snorted again and yanked open the door of the video rental place, quite a bit harder than necessary. Life lessons, how cliché, O'Neill. Jack resisted the impulse to air quote along with his internal monologue, and mumbled an "Excuse me," to the startled counter clerk, as the front door banged off its hinges and swung shut behind him.
Jack moved with fluid ease down the aisle, brown eyes scanned the titles while his thoughts wandered . . . he'd been in DC on business for a couple of days and having a quiet, solitary dinner at an out-of-the way place Sam had recommended. Revelation, in the form of three women, sat at the next table, discussing divorce. Initially, Jack had ignored their conversation, but something about the woman getting the divorce caught his attention. She didn't sound bitter or angry, more resigned and in an odd way, hopeful.
I don't hate him. I don't wish him ill. I just can't live like this anymore. One of the other women snorted, obviously skeptical. Is he having an affair? Jack could hear a sigh. No. And neither am I. No infidelity. There was a pause, almost as if she were gathering her thoughts. Look, people grow and change and sometimes they don't change together. It's not anymore his fault than mine, or it's both our faults. Neither one of us had a very happy childhood and we never learned to communicate, with each other or anyone else, on an intimate level. When we met and he didn't talk about himself or his feelings, it never occurred to me to think there was something wrong. I'd been raised that way. The woman paused again, but she wasn't interrupted. I've had the feeling, and it's been growing stronger, that there must be Something More. I need a deeper level of intimacy and communication. I seem to be learning and moving forward, but he seems to be regressing and has become even more reticent over the years. No amount of couples counseling was going to address those basic problems. The woman sighed again and her voice seemed heavy and tired, So it was the best decision. I can't make him change. There was a pause and her voice seemed to lighten, But I'm evolving into the person I need to be.
Jack sat, dinner forgotten. The Woman could almost have been talking about him, in his marriage to Sara. Even before Charlie, Jack had never been much on sharing his feelings and his job being what it was, the answer to "Hi honey, how was your day?" amounted to the same rote non-answer of "fine," even when missions went bad. Sara had been his lifeline when he'd struggled to make it out of Iran alone on a broken leg, but when he returned to her, he'd struggled with even the limited emotional intimacy they had previously shared. He couldn't tell her what had happened to him and would not have told her if he'd been allowed. To protect Sara from the horrors he'd witnessed and, worse yet, those he'd committed, meant further withdrawal. Jack could see the hurt in Sara's eyes, but he convinced himself that it was better than her knowing the dark that rested heavy on his soul. When Charlie had been born, Jack had thrown all his emotion toward his son. When home, Jack's world had revolved around the boy, while he and Sara had drifted further and further apart.
And then Charlie died and the gulf between he and Sara became a chasm, deep and wide, forbidding and uncrossable. Jack had shut down completely and walled himself inside pain and guilt, anger and remorse. He burned all bridges and avenues in or out of his soul and left Sara emotionally high and dry when she'd needed him most. It still amazed him that Sara didn't hate him. She had every right.
"Sir? Sir? Is everything alright?" Jack started and stared blankly at the waitress. She tried again, "Is everything alright?" Jack blinked and she seemed to take pity on him, she smiled and gestured toward his plate, "Your meal?"
Finally, the gears meshed and Jack returned to the present, "Yes, yes. It's very good. Sorry . . . It's been a long day." The excuse was lame, but the waitress didn't seem to mind. She smiled again and offered, "Let me know if there's anything else you need," before leaving him to his thoughts.
Jack glanced at his plate and made a half-hearted attempt at its contents before he was again pulled into the conversation at the next table. They'd apparently moved on from the Deep Discussion and were now giggling over talk of sex, or the apparent lack thereof . . .
Jack was sure if he could see her, The Woman would be red. Her embarrassment was clear in her voice, but she was trying gamely to answer the badgering of her friends. I think I need a drink. Her voice was muffled, as if she had her hand over her mouth. No you don't, just spit it out, we're friends - what's a little sex talk among friends? Clearly, no graceful exit from the topic was forthcoming. The Woman sighed again. Alright, yes, he had some problems.One of the other woman snorted, loud and long, Let me guess, he didn't talk in bed, either! The Woman barked a short laugh, not really humorous, No, no he didn't talk in bed either, Oy! I can't believe I'm even discussing this . . . Okay, it boils down to this: He never learned or understood that the largest erogenous zone on a woman's body is her Brain. He was never affectionate except when he wanted sex and couldn't understand why that just didn't work for me. Romance engages the brain, but he was all about the physical or the action. Even in counseling, he could never get to the emotion. I think he's afraid of himself. If he examines his emotions or allows anyone access to see his emotions, they might see what he's afraid to see in himself. The Woman stopped. Jack was sure if he looked he would have seen her shrug her shoulders and he had to strain to hear her next words. I just can't live like that anymore. A part of me will always love him, but it's not enough.
"Sir? Would you like me to wrap that?" The waitress was approaching again and Jack drew himself together fast enough to answer. He wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on the plate. "No, just the check, please." She smiled again, "Desert?" Jack was tempted, it would provide him with the opportunity to listen a bit longer, but he had enough food for thought. "No, I'm headed home tonight. I've got a plane to catch. Next visit, though." The waitress nodded and slipped the check on the table. This handsome older gentleman was an infrequent patron, but always tipped well. "I'll see you then. Have a good flight." She smiled again before turning to her other tables.
The flight back to the Springs had been long and uneventful, broken only by a few offers of refreshment. Jack hung out his Do Not Disturb expression and settled in for a bit of reflection. It wasn't an exercise he welcomed with any regularity, but he couldn't escape the feelings elicited by the words of a woman he had never and would never meet. He'd deliberately left the restaurant without looking at her. Wisdom didn't need a face.
Jack pulled the shade and turned off the overhead light and settled himself. He'd learned a few techniques from Teal'c over the years and while he didn't use them regularly, they did come in handy. Several deep breaths helped to center his thoughts. Long years of association with his Team had affected him deeply. He had certainly changed, in ways both small and profound. Jack was still emotionally reserved and could be down right taciturn, but with his Team he could and did, occasionally, open the gates and allow entrance. He still preferred gestures and expression over words, but with them . . . it was okay. Images flickered in his mind's eye and Jack allowed the emotions to flow with them:
Holding Sam after she'd screamed at MacKenzie while reliving false memories of Daniel's death . . . Holding Daniel in a dark storeroom as he cried and suffered through withdrawal from the Sarcophagus . . . The raw plea in Carter's eyes as she demand he leave her and save himself . . . His equally intense refusal . . . The look he'd shared with Carter when she'd called to him as he walked to meet his fate at the hands of Anise and her Za'tarc Detector . . . The dim but real memory of touching Teal'c's face as the Jaffa tried to express his sorrow and loss as the Ancient Library overtook Jack's mind . . . Holding Sam as they grieved for Janet and endured the guilt of being glad it hadn't been him . . .
So many memories laced with the full gamut of emotion and all its nuances. Daniel, Teal'c and Carter: his family. With them he had forged bonds Soul deep and more binding than blood. Bonds tempered in trials of torture, pain, separation, betrayal, anger, remorse and always, always, forgiveness, understanding, humor and joy.
Sam . . . Jack shifted in his seat and refocused his thoughts . . . Sam Carter. She was a woman with two very distinct sides. He'd learned "Carter" over 10 years, both in the field and out. Their CO/2IC relationship remained a wonder to him. The best and closest he had ever had in all his years in the military. As Carter and O'Neill, they could read each other and communicate through expression and gesture better than any he had ever known. A fact that had been commented upon many times, in many performance appraisals. It was uncanny, and at times unnerving, how perfect it could be.
Their gradual shift from straight CO/Subordinate to Something More had sent them both running for emotional cover. They'd danced and weaved and hid within the command structure, until they'd both come to terms with the truth: that the implicit and instant understanding between them was a byproduct of that indistinct and nebulous Something More. Jack knew Hammond had seen the attraction and had chosen to turn a blind eye. Jack had never asked why, but he suspected it was because George had realized that neither officer would violated the trust placed in them and recognized and valued SG-1's unique mix as more Family than Team. The SGC was an insular environment and required flexibility in the rules governing ordinary Military protocol; thus, working team structure was retained far longer than the dictates of common practice. So the odd combination of personality and talent that comprised SG-1 was permitted to exist, despite the attraction between its two military members.
Both Sam and Jack had tried to move on and had failed. They were two parts of a whole, incomplete without the other. Jack was still struck by the occasional bought of feeling far less than she deserved, but he had learned to accept that they were far greater together than the sum of their individual selves. Privately, Jack still believed that Sam's side of their whole was greater than his, but he knew Sam didn't and her belief fueled the hope that his redemption might be possible.
The soft ping of the fasten seatbelt sign broke Jack's contemplation. He looked around, reoriented and shifted to ease the stiffness that had crept into his knees, before settling once again to his contemplation.
For all their shared knowledge of the ways of O'Neill and Carter, the relationship of Jack and Sam was still a fledgling. Bonded heart, soul, body and mind they might be, but they were still learning the unexplored dimensions of the other. Both were slow and cautious, particularly when it came to meshing Sam and Jack with Carter and O'Neill. They had agreed early on that mistakes were bound to happen and could be forgiven, but they would need to talk their way through, and Talk was something with which they had little experience. It was much easier and endlessly tempting to fall back into the familiar of silent looks and gestures, but they both knew it was a temptation they had to avoid. Even if there were times they'd rather face a Goa'uld pain stick than bring Talk in for tea and cake.
Jack might be stubborn, thickheaded and obstinate, but he was determined to learn from his failures. He had failed Sara and over the years he had failed his Team in different ways, but he knew he could not afford to fail with Sam. The salvation of his Soul depended upon her and as such, he was learning to open himself to her in ways he had never dreamed possible. He had also found the rewards of such intimacy sweeter than anything he could ever have imagined.
Jack's mind flicked a recording of The Woman: the largest erogenous zone on a woman's body is her brain. It was undoubtedly true and while he and Sam hadn't experienced any difficulty in that area, he wasn't going to take any chances. One thing for sure, if Sam's brain was her largest erogenous zone, he had a lot to learn: Sam Carter had a Big Brain!
Jack set his mind to contemplate ways to use this new intelligence and, satisfied with this session of introspection, allowed himself to drift into a light doze until the plane came in to land.
It was several weeks later that a Team night was rescheduled for conflicts with Daniel and Teal'c's schedules and Jack found himself at the video store with Sam - they'd decided to continue with plans for delivery and a movie. Normally, movie choice was largely governed by Teal'c. The group would watch almost anything comedy/action/adventure/sci-fi. Jack didn't care, Daniel was resigned and Carter had the capacity to watch, or pretend to watch, Star Wars for the umpteenth time, simply because Teal'c loved it. By unspoken agreement, the Team shied away from the serious and the melancholy, and War flicks were always avoided. They all had enough of that in Real Life, thank you very much.
As he walked with Sam down the row upon row of choices, Jack noticed a subtle tension about her. Here and there she would pause, pull her lower lip through her teeth, glance at the movies, at him and then move on, but never select anything for his consideration. Clearly, she was nervous, but why? By about the 5th time, Jack scanned the titles she was viewing. Okay, dense he might be, but the glimmer of an idea was percolating. Jack sensed he was on delicate footing. There were any number of ways to test his theory, some more humorous than others, but humor would likely send Sam into retreat.
Target acquired, Jack shifted until he stood behind Sam, leaned down and whispered softly, "It's okay if you want to watch a chick flick, Sam."
Sam's head flew around and she stumbled into his chest. Jack reached to steady her. Sam was now virtually gnawing on her lower lip, but she had yet to say a word; her blue eyes were wide and questioning. Jack held her gaze, but allowed himself the ghost of a smile. Direct hit, but clearly more of a push was required. "Really Sam, if you want to watch a chick flick, pick one. I don't mind."
The cat was apparently still in firm possession of Sam's tongue, because all she managed was a low and uncertain "Really?"
Jack allowed himself a full smile and nodded. Not a smirk, not even internally - she'd know if he did. He could smirk later. Now it was about her and the tentative emergence of Sam. Sam considered him for a moment then spun on her heal and walked back several rows. She selected a movie, reached for his hand and moved to the check-out counter.
So it was several hours later that Jack found himself happily snugged on the couch next to Sam watching a movie about lost love and glass making using lightening and iron rods and sand . . . or something like that - Jack wasn't really sure, he was only occasionally half listening to the movie. Mostly he was busy paying close attention to the effect the movie was having on Sam. And it most definitely had an effect on her. Jack had watched many movies with Carter and the guys during countless Team nights and he'd definitely never seen Carter behave like this. Sam got teary when the angst was high and her breath would catch and she would sigh at the mushy parts and she got calf-eyes when the protagonists' finally got together.
And he guessed that was the difference. He was watching this movie with Sam, not Carter. Carter didn't watch mushy movies. Carter watched action flicks with the guys and pointed out how pathetically wrong the Sci-Fi writers got the facts. But when she watched chick flicks, Sam came out to play and on the whole, Jack was immensely grateful she only watched chick flicks with him. He hadn't done any real study and Carter would probably poke holes in his less than scientific method, but deep down, Jack was an empirical kind of guy and he figured his hands on experience was all the proof he needed: Chick flicks made Sam Carter positively libidinous. But he was so not mentioning the calf-eyes. She'd definitely kick his ass.
So over the course of months, Jack made it his covert mission to cultivate romance. A side of himself he was, frankly, surprised he even possessed. He scheduled chick flick nights and slipped chocolate and silly love notes into Sam's off-world pack each time he visited the SGC. One day he stopped by an open field and picked a handful of wildflowers. Sam had actually cried when he gave them to her. But then she'd thrown herself into his arms and attacked him with lips and tongue and teeth. Several very enjoyable hours later, he'd held her close and they'd whispered of future dreams. Sam had been dreamy and had worn a secret smile for days, so much so that Daniel had cornered him to ask what he'd done.
"Seriously Jack, what did you do?" Daniel had never known Sam to be so . . . content.
"Nothing, Daniel." Jack flicked his wrist and spun out his yo-yo.
"Ja-a-ck." Daniel wasn't giving up.
"Nothing, Daniel." Really, he was just not going to discuss it. Not even with Daniel. He could do mush with Sam, but he so had a reputation to protect. Again, he flicked his yo-yo.
"C'mmon, Jack. What'd you do? Sam's walking around here with calf-eyes."
"Got nothin' Daniel," but Jack was grinning and his throw faltered. Ah hell.
It was all the opening Daniel needed, he could smell victory. "I won't stop bugging you until you tell me."
Jack pulled the string off his finger and threw Daniel a suffering look, "Oh, for cryin' out loud, look all I did was give her flowers and some chocolate and watch some movies, okay?"
Daniel's eyes dipped to slits. "Yeah, sure Jack, that's it?" Clear sarcasm laced his voice.
Jack grumbled, "Hey, save the sarcasm for me, will ya?"
"What kind of movies?" Daniel pressed.
Jack paused, but one look at Daniel confirmed that there would be no graceful exit from this line of questioning.
"Jack . . . "
"Alright, but Daniel, I swear, if you tell a soul you will NEVER go to Atlantis."
Daniel leaned forward and quirked an eyebrow in fair imitation of Teal'c, pinned Jack with his eyes, but remained silent.
Jack puffed a breath into his cheeks, blew it out with a loud wuff and glanced around, "Chick flicks." It was the merest of mumbles.
Daniel looked nonplussed, "Say again?"
Jack grumbled, "You heard me the first time. I'm not saying it again."
Daniel leaned back, surprise evident, "Really?"
"Really. Are you satisfied?"
"And it works? Scratch that, clearly it works. How'd you figure that out?"
Jack pursed his lips, "I'm not stupid, Daniel."
He received a look - the look - for his trouble. Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence Danny-Boy. "Okay, okay. I just can't screw this one up, you know? I've wait - we've waited too long for me to screw it up. I overheard something and I've been kind of experimenting." Jack stopped, reluctant to divulge more.
Daniel cocked his head, all teasing gone from his expression. "What did you overhear, Jack?"
Jack paused to consider, but realized that he really didn't need to protect himself from Daniel and besides, Daniel wasn't about to let him go without full disclosure. Oy!
Jack sighed, got up and closed the door to Daniel's lab and spilled the story of the Woman, the brain being the biggest erogenous zone of a woman's body, Sam at the video store and her reaction to watching the chick flick. Jack deliberately left out the libidinous part. Friendship only went so far and Daniel considered himself Sam's brother. There was certain knowledge brothers just shouldn't have.
Daniel listened, privately surprised. He'd known Jack since the first mission to Abydos, when Jack had been very nearly suicidal with grief. The changes between that man and the one before him now were nothing short of staggering. Pride and love rippled across Daniel's skin and joy made him smile. Jack was his brother and Sam his sister. Despite his happiness when they'd finally gotten together, a kernel of fear had laid waiting to pop. Both of them were deeply scarred by the trials of the life they lead, and while they had the potential to be truly happy, they also possessed the ability to completely destroy each other. Listening now, Daniel's underlying fear for his friends melted away. If Jack could seek out and cultivate his inner romantic and Sam, who had been his 2IC and subordinate, could allow herself to be touched by it, and they could blend it into their lives both at work and at home -- well -- Daniel shot a look heavenward, sending a silent thank you to Oma. Maybe she didn't have anything to do with it, but Daniel wasn't counting her out.
As Daniel listened, his joy grew until a full-blown smile graced his face. His eyes were soft as he surveyed his friend. Instant surety washed over Daniel, as if Oma had touched his face. Jack and Sam were going to be alright - more than alright. A knock sounded at the door and Jack called for the person to enter. Sam slid into the lab as soon as there was enough room and made her way to Jack. She slid her arm about his waist and cast a happy, curious smile at the two of them, "Hey, whatcha up to?"
Daniel was still caught by the rightness of their partnership. It fairly glowed in each of them. The light and energy that had once been Daniel's to command and bestow burned bright in each of their souls, but when Sam stepped to Jack, their light merged and became incandescent, blinding to behold. Daniel blinked and the vision dissipated; Jack and Sam were once again mere mortals, lit only by their shared smiles.
Jack hugged Sam to him and shot Daniel a silent, but very clear, admonishment to keep his mouth shut about what he'd been told. Daniel received the message and grinned, filing everything under Future Blackmail - a dangerous game to play with one as skilled as Jack, but endlessly amusing.
Jack acknowledged the silent and possible future threat with a smirk and something approaching pride: he'd definitely rubbed off on his Team. Jack squeezed Sam a brief hug.
"Sorry Danny. Team night tomorrow. I've got a date." With that, he swung Sam up in his arms and swept her out of the lab. He was so getting lucky tonight!