Title: Nothing But The Rain
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Sam/Jack
Word Count: 937
Rating: G
Summary: She'd never admit that since he left for Washington she'd felt lonely and when she was at base, there was always someone around, someone to talk to.
Notes: Set between the end of Season Eight and the start of Season Nine.

Nothing But The Rain

It had been raining for the past few hours; it was the kind of rain that she hated. The huge droplets that pelted down and soaked you in less than a minute and probably would give bruises. She'd run from her car to her porch in less that ten seconds and she was wet through. She mentally reprimanded herself for not staying at the base. She wouldn't be this wet there.

She opened her front door quickly and slammed it shut behind her. The small pile of mail that had accumulated over the past four days was promptly stepped over in her rush to the kitchen. She needed coffee.

Jack was always telling her to go home more. Apparently she spent too much time on base. It was probably true but she'd never admit that. She'd never admit that since he left for Washington she'd felt lonely and when she was at base, there was always someone around, someone to talk to. Someone to occupy her mind so that she didn't have to think about the greying General that had upped and left all those weeks ago. Sure they'd spoken but speaking to someone over a telephone line is not like talking to them when they are sitting on your couch, drinking your beer and listening to your voice.

She'd often find herself calling him at untimely hours of the day and would always be surprised when the angry tone that answered the phone at 3am softened when he found out it was her calling. So many times she'd wanted to just tell him that she missed him and that she needed him, back home, on her couch, just talking the night away; but she always refrained and made up some excuse that he never fell for but was too kind to admit that he knew exactly what she was doing.

Sam filled the kettle up and settled down on the couch. She pulled the throw that rested over the back of the sofa towards her and wrapped it round her legs. Sitting there, warm mug in her hands, she began to drown out the rain and manage, just, to lull herself into a soft sleep.

She woke abruptly to the sound of thunder rolling above her house.

'Figures.'

It was only seven pm. Hopefully, if she called, he'd be at home. Her phone calls were becoming a habit, she'd even stretched to calling him while she was at work, when one of her scientists had blown something up and she just needed a friendly voice that would calm her down and tell her he was proud of her and if she got that one thing wrong, the world wouldn't end. Sam had joked that it might and Jack had put the phone down on her. Naturally he'd rung her back only minutes later to say goodnight and that he hoped she worked it all out.

She reached out from her lying position on the couch and fumbled around on the side table for the phone. Picking it up she dialled the number and brought the phone to her ear. She'd dialled his cell. He was guaranteed to answer that, barring any national emergency.

His voice was barely a whisper when he answered.

'O'Neill.'

'Hey, it's me… you okay sir?'

'I'm fine Carter, what's wrong?'

'I just wanted to, uh… ya know… ask you about the… uh grant I asked for.'

'Oh that.' He said, accepting her reluctance to admit she just wanted to talk, 'You've got it. Go play with your doohickeys till your heart's content.'

'I will. Thank you sir.'

'No problem,' he paused, 'Can I call you back? I'm in the car on my way somewhere.'

'Oh. Sure. I'm at home.'

'I know.'

'How?'

'I rang Walter. He told me you signed out a few hours ago. I'm glad. You spend too much time on base. Okay, I gotta go; I've just pulled up. I'll talk to you soon.'

'Okay, bye sir.'

The phone clicked and she let it fall to the floor. She sat up and straightened out the cushions before standing. The sound of the doorbell made her jump and she, out of habit, reached for her gun.

Knowing her neighbours, it was probably one of them, moaning about the fact that she hadn't mown her lawn this week or that her rubbish hadn't be put out. Her neighbourhood was the kind that hated people who actually worked and had a life that didn't revolve around the tidiness of their front garden.

She slowly opened the door and took a step back as the rain fell softly on her, the porch obviously not giving enough shelter.

He stood before her, that cocky grin and those dress blues, those dress blues that made her melt.

'Oh god, you're getting wet, come inside.' She said hurriedly.

'Thanks, I must admit it was getting a bit windy out there.'

'Yeah I know; so what brings you here?'

'I had to give presents to George's grandkids, and I thought I'd drop by. That and I figured you needed some company.'

'What?'

'Come on, you can drop the act, it's okay that you miss me. I miss you too.'

She smiled gratefully and sat down beside him.

'What's with the dress blues?'

'Meeting with that Senator, the one with the dodgy accent.'

'He's from Hawaii.'

'He talks like Donald Duck.'

'Okay.' She tried to suppress the grin but failed miserably.

'It's good to see you again Sam.' He said, reaching out his hand to grasp her.

She squeezed back. 'I'm glad you came.'

'Yeah, me too.'

-Fin-