Pass Me A Bitters
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She was smiling gracefully at the man seated across from her. The tablecloth was almost as white as her teeth. The man leaned forward, a cheeky grin on his face as he poured her another glass of wine. A fork clinked as the glass was picked up. A pause.
"You enjoying yourself, Carter?" Colonel Jack O'Neill sat back against the seat back with the air of a satisfied cat. He and his second in command were all to themselves, out at a fancy restaurant, and dressed to the nines. They were lucky to be enjoying their wine as it was – the earlier mission had left them more than trussed.
How did I get out of there with my life?
Carter leant back, copying her superior's motions. "I think, sir, in this situation, you should call me Sam." She almost laughed at the quirk in the Colonel's eyebrow. She covered quickly by taking another dainty sip of wine.
"I think, Sam, in this situation, you should call me Jack." Sam choked.
"I- of course, Jack." She tried out his name hesitantly. Jack responded with another heart-breaking grin.
Sam lowered the glass to the table and sat up straight. She straightened the spoon above her plate. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"No more hard than saving your ass this afternoon!" she quipped happily, a childish glee taking over her face. The expression only froze for a moment. "It was nice of you to invite me out for this dinner as a thank you – although, we've saved each others lives enough by now that it's nothing new."
Jack nodded in agreement, opting to stare at the elaborate design on his plate. After a moment, he looked up without moving his head. He had a contemplative expression. "Isn't it- don't you- just today, we were on another planet, in another solar system, light years away from Earth!" He spoke quietly, his voice strained, soft enough that Sam had to lean forward to hear him. "We were gone, we could have never seen it again, we … Sam."
His right hand was gripping at the tablecloth next to his plate. He looked down again. The hand released and disappeared under the table to wipe on a pair of black slacks.
"I think I understand, sir."
The Colonel nodded without noticing Carter's slip up, still looking at his plate
The fork clinked again as Sam hastily picked up her wine glass. Jack straightened. His throat cleared. "Y'know, Car-Sam, I've been meaning to open that room for a while," Sam looked up, surprise evident. Jack continued without pausing, "And I haven't because you said that's where you wanted it. But I think … this might be time enough. We've – I've waited long enough."
Here, Jack did pause. Sam didn't move, didn't even breathe in the hope that Jack would continue. Jack's gaze said clearly, 'if this is too much, tell me to stop.'
He nodded, and reaffirmed himself. "I've waited long enough. Long enough. Um, Sam. What I said in there – that room – wasn't quite right." Sam's face grew taut. "No! Not like that! I mean, it's just. Um. I lo-" Jack's eyes flicked to the right, staring at the doorway to the restaurant. His eyes were slightly shocked, and Sam turned around to see what had stopped him mid sentence, her heart hammering at the implication of what had been in that mid sentence.
A sombre archaeologist met her eyes, his suit jacket thrown casually over his arm. He was sweeping the restaurant with his eyes, looking for someone. When he landed on Sam, his face shifted in a measure of relief. He walked towards her, stopping when he reached her chair.
"Daniel?"
Daniel gave her shoulder a squeeze before walking towards the chair sitting opposite her. He pulled it out, hung his jacket over the back, and sat himself gracefully. Sam blinked as the after image of Jack double exposed over Daniel.
Daniel's first piece of news was equally as discomfiting.
"Jack's wake is next Thursday."
Oh, that's right. I didn't.