Hi, this is Angela from Divine Dreams. I'm calling to confirm your fitting for tomorrow at 3:15. Bring your shoes and we'll see you tomorrow!

Sam supposed she should have just called back, but she was right by the shop when she remembered to check her voicemail and she figured it would be easier to walk in, explain, and sign whatever she needed to to make the dress go away.

But she'd severely underestimated how intimidating a flurry of satin, tulle, brides, and mothers-of-the-brides would be for her right now. The shop was full of people talking at high speed, excited and dreamy, and the last thing Sam wanted to do was drop some poor girl into her terrible week by uttering the words "not getting married after all" or "my dad died" into the happy chaos.

She blinked, bewildered, and almost just left again, but the girl at the front desk recognized her, breathlessly said "Sam? Follow me, please." The girl kept up a stream of happy chatter that Sam felt unequipped to interrupt, and she ended up downstairs in her dress, in front of a mirror that made it hard to look anywhere else.

The girl finished lacing her into the dress before remarking that the tailor would be just a couple of minutes before racing back upstairs into the fray, leaving Sam alone.

She spent a few minutes just looking, trying hard not to think about her dad, or Pete, or… well. She just looked at her reflection, at the dress, and tried to see herself in there somewhere.

Something just wasn't right. She looked… fine. The dress was nice, it really was-flattered her figure and had made her eyes misty when she'd first tried it on. It was just that every time she'd thought about actually wearing it on her wedding day, she'd filed the thought away under "things to think about later when the world isn't in danger of being blown up."

Well, the world was officially not blowing up, but she'd given back the ring this morning and she suddenly felt ridiculous just standing here in a dress that she was not ever going to wear. She really should find someone-

Her phone rang, and she jumped.

She held up her skirt and shuffled awkwardly to her purse. She pulled out her phone-didn't check who it was, either-just swiped to answer and said, "Hello?"

"Carter?"

"Sir?" she said.

"Ah…" There was a beat of silence. "So, I'm downtown today, and I just saw your car and thought-I'd call."

Sam blinked. "What?"

"Call," Jack added helpfully. "You know, I used my phone and dialed your number and now… we're talking."

"We're… talking," Sam said, feeling as if this was some sort of code she should understand.

"Right!"

Sam couldn't think of a thing to say, except, "Why are we talking?"

Another pause. Sam could hear traffic in the background, and she suddenly realized that Jack had said he was downtown. Where he saw her car. Meaning he was on this block. Right now. And he'd called her. She saw herself go pale in the mirror.

"Well," Jack said, "I just saw your car and thought 'hey, Carter's here,' and that maybe you'd want... company."

"Company," Sam said, numb and a little panicky.

"Yeah," Jack said, sounding a little panicky himself now. "You know, this was a bad idea, I-"

Sam burst into tears.

"Oh," Jack said. "Where-"

Sam absolutely didn't believe that humans had ESP, but she would swear that she heard Jack see the sign for the bridal shop and put two and two together. She pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call, stuffing the phone in her purse blindly and reaching behind her to tear at the lacing on her dress. She heard him on the stairs before she managed to do more than tangle things and gave up, instead trying to get ahold of herself.

He appeared in the doorway, took in the whole picture, dress and all, and then hugged her. She collapsed against him, hating herself for being so ridiculous and yet feeling so relieved that he was there. She tried to stop crying, but it was hopeless and eventually she just stopped worrying about it and let it all come. At some point she thought she heard someone else just outside the door, but Jack must have waved them away.

Finally, she got a grip on herself and pulled back.

"Okay," she said, shakily, with as much dignity as she could muster, "I just want to say, for the record, that I was forced into this dress."

Jack nodded, said, "It wouldn't be the first time," and patted her on the arm.

It made her feel strangely better, like this was just another weird alien thing, and not a complete emotional breakdown.

Sam tried breathing through her nose, and wished immediately for a tissue. As if by magic, the girl from upstairs appeared with a box of Kleenex.

"This happen often?" Sam said, taking the box from her with a self-deprecating laugh. She wiped her face and blew her nose.

The girl quirked a smile. "You'd be surprised." She looked at Jack. "Are you-" A slightly raised eyebrow made her turn to Sam. "Would you like to come back another time?"

Sam took a breath-much better-and said, "Not really. I think I just want to get out of here."

The girl just nodded again, apparently unflappable in the face of unstable brides. "Okay. Let's just get this off you." She reached for the ties on Sam's back and Jack ducked out of the room, pulling the curtain across as he went.

Sam had a quiet conversation with the girl about returns-not an option, but Sam hadn't thought so-while she got dressed, and then she gathered her purse, said she'd figure out what to do with the dress and give them a call, and opened the curtain to find Jack waiting, propped against the other wall.

In silence, they climbed the stairs and left the now-empty front room. Sam wondered if everyone had left because of her or if they had been safely ensconced in their own dressing rooms by the time she'd had her breakdown.

"You were in the area?" she said once they were on the sidewalk.

"Yeah," Jack said, waving a vague hand. "Wanted some stuff."

Sam looked down the street. "Sorry," she said.

"For what?" Jack said nonchalantly.

Sam smiled, a little. "Thanks."

"Sure," Jack said. "You… doing okay?"

Sam shrugged. "It just all sort of hit at once. Dad, and…" she trailed off. "Daniel volunteered to call everyone."

"Yeah," Jack said. "He told me."

Both of them looked away, pretending interest in the people walking down the street. Jack cleared his throat. "So, I'm guessing this wasn't your only stop today?"

"No, I was picking up a part for my bike. Got that done already."

"That's good," Jack said.

"Yeah. I'd hate to walk in there now, looking like this." Sam had caught her reflection before she left the store, and it wasn't pretty.

"They might give you a discount if you did," Jack said, bumping her shoulder to let her know he was joking.

Sam was almost amused. Almost. By unspoken agreement, they headed toward her car, which was just a few feet away.

"Look," Jack said, "This was-"

"Bad timing," Sam said, sighing. "Yeah. But it was nice that you called."

"Yeah?" Jack said.

This time, Sam did smile, for at least a half a second. "Yeah." She felt a rush of warmth for him. Not only had he barely been fazed to find her crying in a dressing room, trying on the wedding dress she wasn't going to wear, but she knew he was never going to tell anyone else about the whole thing.

"I'll have to do it again sometime." He rocked back on his heels, looking very pleased.

"I'd like that," Sam said, sincerely hoping that the next time he called, she was cleaning her gutters, or in her lab, or staring at the takeout menus on her fridge-anything but this.

"So. I'll see you Monday?" Jack said.

Sam nodded. "Monday." She got in her car and turned the key, looking over her shoulder before pulling away from the curb. In her mirror, she could see Jack standing on the sidewalk, watching her go, and she thought that by Monday she might even be able to look him in the eye again.