Desert islands and Elephants.
His eyes snapped open. He held his breath and listened. He could have sworn he heard a noise coming from his front room. It was dark; pitch black the only light coming from the digital alarm clock on his bed side locker, 3:05am. He shifted in the bed trying to settle down once more, three hours fifty five minutes before his alarm went off.
There, again, another noise, this time the floor boards creaked in the hallway outside his room. He contemplated reaching over and switching the light on. CREAK… Ok so definitely someone there. He strained his eyes trying to make out any shapes in his darkened room. There was another noise now, closer than before. The rustling of material, definitely. CLUNK, something fell to the floor, CLUNK. He could feel the presence moving towards him. He strained his eyes again, trying to get a look at his early morning intruder. He felt a slight breeze as the bedclothes lifted from the bed and his guest slid under. A head rested on his chest and a hand slowly ran up and down his torso. He inhaled deeply.
"We have to stop meeting like this," he kissed the top of her head
"I could sleep in the spare room….?" She shifted the position of her head slightly and kissed his neck.
"No no…..," he let his fingers trace circles on her back "we seem to be like ships sometimes."
"Ships?" The tone in her voice giving away the smile that he was sure was playing on her lips.
"As in passing in the night."
"Gotcha.".
They lay in silence for a few moments; the warmth of her body, taking away the tension he didn't realise was there. Then he felt her sigh, inwardly albeit but it was a sigh none the less.
"So you ok?" he let his hand run through her hair.
"Do you ever just think it would be nice to be marooned on a desert island?"
"Ah palm trees, clear blue skies, hut on the beach..."
"No phones, no intergalactic emergencies..." her fingers were tapping a tune out on his chest.
"You wouldn't last a day," as he said it he felt her tense.
"I would if you were there," the fingers on his chest suddenly went from drumming out a slow easy beat to playing at Mardi Gras.
Suddenly he felt like he'd missed something.
He reached over to the bed side locker and switched the lap light on and immediately regretted it. It was bright. Too bright. He shifted position until they were lying face to face and he took a moment to look at the woman lying next to him. Lying with her now it almost seemed unimaginable that for so long they had denied the inevitable. He scolded himself mentally when he heard a voice inside telling him they should have been doing this years ago. No shoulda, woulda, coulda's. That had been their deal.
There must have been something fascinating on his chin because her eyes hadn't moved from there once. He reached for her jaw line and gently moved her face up so that he could look into her eyes.
"Sam, what's going on?" He let his thumb run across her lower lip.
"How many lucky escapes have we had over the years?" He watched as her eyes flicked over his features and he wondered what she saw. If it was the same as he saw when he looked in the mirror he was screwed.
"A few I guess."
"What about when it runs out…my luck?"" She was biting her bottom lip, not a good sign. Her eyes were filled with doubt and with Samantha Carter he'd learned that was not a good thing.
"I won't let that happen," he wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself or her.
"You can't control what happens to me out there from Washington, Jack."
"Don't I know it," he let out a breath.
They'd danced around the fact that she really at the end of the day was a chess piece in a game he tried to control. While he could tell her and those under his command what their next mission would be, ultimately their fate was in their own hands. He could only hope the calls he made were the right ones. The weight he carried had become heavier over the last few years, first Atlantis and now the Hammond, each move becoming riskier for her, each bringing him a few more fine lines. He longed for the days when it was them and Daniel and Teal'c off world shooting down a battalion of Jaffa. When General Hammond shouldered the responsibility and all he had to worry about was keeping his team safe and finding new ways to bug Daniel.
Although if he still had that life then he wouldn't have her. Was it a fair trade, finally getting your cake and eating it? Only now the cake might be ripped from your hands at any minute or worse you're forced to throw the cake to the floor and dance all over it.
"Earth to Jack," she was waving her fingers in front of his face.
"Sorry," he leaned forward to place a kiss on her nose. "You've survived this long because you damn good at what you do, Sam. Luck has nothing to do with it"
He was lying off course, he knew it and so did she. Luck had everything to do with it and after reading her last mission report he knew she was lucky to be here; he was lucky she was here. This was the risk they had decided to take, to live with the ramifications of their relationship, the relationship that they still technically shouldn't be having.
They knew it would be complicated, keeping their personal feelings out of the professional relationship and if they had to ignore the giant elephant dressed in combat gear sitting in the corner of the room then that was what they were going to do. That's what they were good at. The elephants outfit had changed over the years, it used to wear pj's with love hearts all over them, mocking the love they couldn't share, it occasionally just for him wore ones that had the face of the latest smuck who had fallen for her or wore pictures of her and followed him around the Pentagon just so he wouldn't forget what he was trying to hide when he spoke of her in briefings with the Joint Chiefs and the President. More recently it had pictures of the life they could have, smiling faces, a house, a child. The life they were currently denying themselves for the greater good.
"Your right, I'm sorry." The smile she forced on to her face didn't match her tone of voice," I'm just tired".."
Tonight she was playing along. She wouldn't forever, he knew that. The conversation they were both avoiding was bubbling away beneath the surface but it was her call. Always had been, if she really wanted to run away from all of this to the desert island, he'd get the bag that he already had packed from beneath the bed and carry her there himself. He knew she was doubting herself, doubting the path she had picked, doubting whether a couple of days every few months was really enough any more. Every now and again he pushed away his own nagging doubt, the doubt that for them there may never be a happily ever after, no desert islands or sitting on a dock in Minnesota.
Luck had always been on their side and as he watched her sleep he could only hope that it didn't turn its back on them now.