Summary: A short episode tag for 'Beneath the surface", with an imagined different ending.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Beneath the Surface
A/N: Pretty much my first SG-1 S/J-focused story. Short one-shot. Written originally as a Secret Santa gift.
When he finally fell into slumber that night after an hour of fretful tossing, he dreamt of the dazzling blanket of stars that twinkled in the night sky, of the warm breeze's caress and of the softest moss that grew beneath his feet. Next to him, framed against the dark canvas of night stood a beautiful blond woman whom he only knew as Thera, the brilliant, driving force of Section 23. Looking down, he saw their joined hands. He saw his amazement mirrored in her face, and her blinding smile that held him ransom.
It could only have been the conjuring of an overactive imagination.
Because he'd never seen the sky, let alone the night sky. He'd only heard stories of its cerulean blue against which white clouds floated, and of its deep blackness across which an infinite number of stars are scattered. Nor had he felt that accompanying contentment that was too foreign to feel real.
All he knew was the bitter, white cold that swirled above the surface of where he stayed, having been brought up there once by Brenna to observe the dire straits their planet was in. Seeing their world in the throes of a planetary ice-age had strengthened his resolve to help keep producing sufficient energy to heat the greenhouses for the difficult months ahead. And work hard he did in the mines, shovelling ore into carts until he near-collapsed in exhaustion every day.
It was all that he had been doing for many cycles.
Or so he had been told, having forgotten almost everything after a bout of nightsickness.
The vision of idyllic bliss dissolved in the tolling of the dawn work bell.
It was one of those rare days where the timing of their shifts coincided.
Section 23 dealt with the stabilisers. And the stabilisers were located near the mines where he worked. As the day progressed, he cast many furtive glances for the woman he knew as Thera, feeling that deep thrill of excitement just in knowing she was near.
When his long shift ended, he couldn't help but feel vaguely disappointed that she hadn't turned up in his little corner of the world.
A flash of dirty blond glinted in the midst of the women workers as he took a last look around.
Then there she was.
The object of his gaze, that blond, blue-eyed woman who made his breath catch in his throat and his heart sing.
An involuntary smile split her face as she caught sight of him the exact moment he picked her out from the crowd.
Her hands were impossibly dirty, blackened by the soot of the place and the grease from the machines and roughed by endless work on the valves that couldn't seem to work properly. But he didn't mind when she touched his shoulder in greeting.
"How're you doing?" She started brightly, smiling brilliantly as she walked up to him.
At that moment, he knew that he could stare at her forever. That unfailing good humour that she carried around as she worked brightened the dark days. When she turned it on him, the night beneath the surface turned to eternal day.
"I mined," he quipped in return. "And mined, and mined."
She chuckled. It brought a smile to his face when he heard her laugh.
"You look excited," he told her.
Thera took a deep breath and nodded. Strange how he knew that it meant she was about to launch into a long explanation that would make his ears ring.
"I've written some plans to improve the flow of uninterrupted power to the city, which will simultaneously offset the output of energy that could –"
"Ahh, Carter!" He had put up a hand to stop her when he realised exactly what he had just said.
She stopped and frowned in puzzlement, her mouth comically open in mid-sentence.
His own confusion matched hers. Hell, he didn't even know where that came from.
"Carter?" She ventured slowly.
"Hell, don't ask me. Maybe it's just an expression," he murmured hopefully and tried to ease away from that slip. "Well, I certainly understand that you're talking about."
She didn't look convinced but chose not to pursue the matter.
"Look, we can't talk now. Let's meet when the lights go out," she told him, then slipped away into the throng of workers, blending in seamlessly as she manoeuvred her way to the women's quarters.
They sat huddled for warmth in that sacrosanct space she had found only a short while ago. They didn't speak for a long time but then, words had never seemed necessary between them, not even when their paths first crossed. His arm had snaked around her shoulders, and this time, she leaned into his embrace willingly.
"You know," she finally told him as she gently stroked his cheek, "I remember feeling feelings too."
"For me?" He mimicked her earlier words to him. The tight fist that had taken a strangle-hold of his heart loosened completely. He didn't let on how very uncertain he had been when he confessed his own feelings for the first time.
She hadn't been afraid to say it back. It had only just taken her a few days.
"No, for Tor."
They both smiled at that.
"Just another thing in this place I like," he said in affirmation, smoothing a wayward strand of blond hair that had fallen across her cheek.
She snuggled closer. He exhaled in contentment.
It irritated him when Carlin crossed the corridor moments later and made himself comfortable where they were sitting. That man didn't know the meaning of personal space, he groused to himself, unlike the rest of the workers.
Thera sat up, apologetically shrugging off his hand.
Then Carlin spoke of a big pool of shimmering water, of facades and memory stamps and he forgot his annoyance when Thera turned to him with a small, amused smile and an unspoken promise in her blue, blue eyes.
Several nights later, he dreamt of the translucent white dome that cloaked an advanced city and the ventilation pipes that had stuck out from the concrete.
Only that it wasn't a dream.
Confronting Brenna with Thera was in retrospect, the best and the worst thing he could have done.
Then she called him 'Sir' and his whole world collapsed.
The cabin at nightfall was beyond beautiful.
Jack had left the mountain the moment Hammond ordered them on two weeks' downtime after enduring a long physical, eager to flee the ghosts of the recent past.
He went to the only place he knew she wouldn't dare follow, putting as much distance between them as he could, as fast as he could.
Far north into the Minnesotan woods, where he was swallowed up by nature and his rampant thoughts as he sat with the pole in his hand for hours as the air slowly turned cold.
Where life was simpler, as simple as it had been on that ice planet.
Where he could lick his wounds in peace and reconstruct that mask as SG-1 commander without anyone looking too closely.
Orion's Belt kept him company in his self-imposed solitude as he sat out on the dock, and served as a solemn but constant reminder of a time not too long ago when he'd thought they were only a figment of his imagination.
Jack found the comforting reality of the landscape that he knew to be much sweeter than what he had dreamt of back when he called himself Jonah.
The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel and fallen leaves startled him out of his reverie.
Had he been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the roar of the engine that had pulled up at his front porch?
Turning around slowly, he saw her standing stock-still near his truck that was parked out front, hunching slightly in the freezing air.
Hesitation and sudden apprehension held him motionless, even though a part of him ached to hold her.
He wasn't quite ready to meet anyone yet. He didn't think he would be for a long time.
But where he was suddenly crippled by uncertainty, her journey to Minnesota had seemed to give her newfound courage.
And now, Carter stepped forward onto the dock where he stood, bathed in the same starlight that rippled sensually across the pond, looking just like that vision of perfection that he'd dreamt about.
She had never looked more beautiful. Or more unattainable.
"Jack."
Not Sir, not Colonel.
The implications of that single word made him dizzy with anticipation and breathless with sudden hope.
Her voice, rich with compassion and laced with…something more. But she also sounded uncertain and almost afraid, as though she feared he would turn her away.
The hard lines across his brow slowly disappeared as he sighed softly in relief.
"Sam," he breathed and saw her smile.
-Fin-