Thanks to Maddy (littlemaddymoo aka black widow mistress) for the prompt of Sam/Jack & Balcony. :D This is completely AU, and set on Atlantis, but since it only really involves SG-1 characters, I don't really think it counts as a crossover. Another Sam-being-morose-while-on-Atlantis-and-thinking-ab out-home fic. Lots of S/J UST. Utter nonsense, and been done to death, but I'm trying to get my mojo back.
As always, please enjoy, and let me know what you think :D
-sjsj-
Yellow Brick Road
-sjsj-
She sits on the balcony and wonders if it will ever feel like home.
It's a beautiful night on Atlantis, even with the light cloud cover and the breeze off the endless expanse of water. It's just the right temperature, when the day has been warm and the night cools off just enough to warrant a jacket. The stars are bright between the clouds, and she sits and watches the constellations that only look familiar because she studied a star map before arriving. A million thoughts run through her head, and the city sleeps while she pulls up her chair to the railing and just sits.
Her balcony is the only place she feels any real peace.
This command had been a long time coming, yet she sometimes still feels like she isn't ready for it. Each small victory feels like a lucky break, and she has to keep reminding herself that she survived SG1 for over ten years on near misses and quick fixes. The adrenaline is different, being in command instead of on the ground, but it still makes her heart quiver.
Sometimes she wishes she had more to do than bark orders into an ear-piece. Her hands twitch, aching to be working frantically on the technology, and her mind races as Rodney babbles in a language sometimes only she understands, and it's those days that are the hardest.
But mainly she just misses home.
"You deserve this, Sam"
She nods, shifting her cheek against the crook of his shoulder. His couch has been occupied since she got to Washington over five hours ago, and she's reluctant to move. The blanket rests over their legs, his sock-covered toes peaking out at the end where they rest on the coffee table.
As ridiculous as it sounds, snuggled up to him on his couch as she watches an old movie, she's not sure where they stand. They've been... something... since he moved to Washington and she did her stint at Area 51, but blowing off eight years worth of sexual tension on weekends is a far cry from an intergalactic relationship. She's not even sure they are 'ship'. They've got the 'relation' bit down; actually got pretty good at it, if she's allowed to say that. But she's never once referred to him as her boyfriend, and she thinks she might not be 'girlfriend' either. Living apart and only visiting on the odd weekend, there's not enough between them for that.
But in many ways there's too much between them.
Calling themselves lovers would be far more apt, but the description always makes her feel a little bit like the woman-on-the-side, and he's made it abundantly clear that so long as she's willing to be snuggled on his couch every other weekend, he's hers and hers only.
So as she considers how amazing this offer is- her very own command, and Atlantis no less- she fearfully over-thinks how she can broach this subject with him.
As though the universe hears her, he speaks first, lips against her hair, and his words shoot right through her, a curling warmth spreading from her belly to her ears.
"You're gonna go kick ass on Atlantis... show those Wraith who's boss... and you're gonna give McKay hell... and you're gonna be great"
He hesitates, and she lets those words wash over her as she considers just who they're coming from, recognising just what it means to have him show this faith in her. He kisses her hair, his thumb running against her arm, the arm that rests over her shoulders pulling her closer still.
"And I'm gonna be here, cheering you on from the sidelines... counting the days 'till you're home"
And just like that she knows exactly what they are.
She fingers the dog tags around her neck, the thin pieces of metal clinking as she wraps and unwraps the chain around her fingers, her thoughts half a universe away. She sees a light flick on one floor up and a few rooms over, but it turns off just as quickly, and she knows it's second shift doing their last rounds of the labs before the change of the guard. Which means it's ridiculously late, and she should be sleeping, not sitting on her balcony in the middle of the night feeling sorry for herself about being in the best place of her life.
Pulling her tags away from her chest, she holds up one so see the name written there.
"Colonel Samantha Carter" she says softly to herself, and she just knows her Dad would have been proud. You can still have everything you want. The memory comes out of nowhere, and she can't help the sad smile that flicks across her face.
"Guess what, Dad" she whispers. "You were right"
She turns to him when she reaches the door, duffle in one hand and doorknob in the other, early morning sun peaking through the glass. He's standing in his tracksuit pants and old worn tee-shirt, his hair in all directions, hand in his pockets and a sad but encouraging smile on his face. She lets go of the doorknob, and softly places her duffle on the floor, before stepping into his waiting hug.
"It's not forever, you know" he says, holding her a little tighter.
"I know"
"And you'll get leave"
"I'm still going to miss you" she says, almost defensively, as though he's suggesting otherwise.
He sighs and squeezes her closer still, planting a kiss against the side of her head. He likes to do that, she's noticed, and she kind of really likes it.
"You'll love it" he says with conviction.
"As much as I love you?"
He freezes, and she starts, and it only occurs to her about four and a half seconds later that they've never really done the 'I love you's and everything. She's not sure what the hell was possessing her to spit it out now, or here, when she's about thirty second s away from leaving Washington to go back to Colorado Springs so she can finalise the packing of her house before the renters move in. She's not sure why her buffer didn't catch it like it's done so many other times. She's not sure why he's frozen, or what this means, or what they are anymore, because things looked so stable until she went and did that. She feels like a fool.
He's grinning against her head.
She can feel it.
His arms lose their rigidity and hold her tight again.
"That depends" he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. She pulls back just far enough to look him in the eye.
"On what?"
"How do you feel about the food in the mess?"
She grins a little, just enough to play along with the joke, but her expression remains serious enough that he knows she doesn't want to brush off her confession as a slip of the tongue.
"I like you a lot more than I like the food in the mess, Jack"
His eyes darken a fraction, and skim across her face, catching every detail along the way before returning to hers, and as she always does when he looks at her like that, she gets a little bit shy and offers the ghost of a smile. He almost smiles at her nervous expression.
"I believe you said you love me...more than the food in the mess" he says lowly, in that tone that's reserved for their own private moments.
"And if I do?"
"Then Atlantis will fall somewhere on the scale after me and food"
She kisses him once, slowly, her eyes slipping closed as she rests her forehead against his, her smile returning.
"And if you end up ranking above Atlantis?"
She can feel his breath against her lips, his fingers flexing against her back and his heartbeat steady against her hand, and she wonders what it would mean if she told the IOA to stick Atlantis up its ass so she can stay in Washington.
"Then I guess we'll be even"
It's sometime in the earliest hours of morning before she finally turns in for the night. Closing the door to the balcony she looks over her quarters, taking in the space she's now calling home. She does love it here. The adjustment hasn't been easy for anyone, and she's not entirely sure where the line is between being Weir's replacement and replacing Atlantis' leader. Some people have been so welcoming, and others a little less so, but mostly she hopes she's been doing okay, and that the people here can come to understand that she's on their side.
For the most part she thinks they get that.
She tries not to make this an extension of SG1- tries to keep her own war stories out of her command decisions, regardless of the reputation that precedes her.
But as she looks over her own space, and the few personal items she brought with her, she knows she'll be fine, because even if it doesn't all work out here, she's got something great waiting for her back home.
"Jack-"
"I was thinking" he says, cutting her off, letting go of her as he takes half a step back, one arm still holding her waist. "When you get back... when things have died down a little... maybe I'll retire. Again. For good this time... hopefully"
She grins at that, and ducks her head to hide it. He tries not to smile at how cute she looks, but it doesn't really work.
"And then... we should talk"
"About what?"
"About making this more permanent"
She watches as he pulls a small box out of his pocket, and she wonders how long he's been hiding it in his sock draw. She also wonders if she'll ever be able to breathe again.
"Is that..."
They're both staring intently at the box, and he fingers the seam for a moment before flicking the lid open, the box facing him. His actions are so reminiscent of another day, and another box, that she could cry over the serendipity of it all. She doesn't of course, because he spins the box around, holding it in the palm of his hand.
"I'm not expecting an answer ri-"
"Yes"
He seems to stumble a little, probably trying to figure out if she broke the speed of sound when she launched the word out of her mouth. He looks her in the eye, looking for any excuse to tell her to wait.
She's never been more certain of anything in her entire life.
"Yes" she repeats, looking him straight in the eye, a smile growing and tears springing up as he stares at her in open-mouthed shock.
He kisses her suddenly and thoroughly, hands cupping her cheeks, the box bouncing on the floor at their feet. They stay like that until breathing becomes an issue, and when they part they both grin like fools, holding each other.
She leans down to pick up the box and hands it to him, holding out her left hand with a grin. He grins back, wide and cheesy, and takes the ring out, sliding it onto her finger. He'd managed to get her size from Daniel, who had asked Vala, who had snuck a peek in her jewellery box on the last team night. He's amazed Sam hadn't already known, given Vala was involved, but glad that he can still surprise her. She holds up her hand to inspect the ring, grinning from ear to ear, and he watches her, his eyes soft, his lips quirked.
She really has to wonder just what it would do to her career if she told the IOA to shove it.
She walks to her nightstand, and touches the small carved box there, flicking the latch and opening it. Inside are a couple of pictures of family- ones that don't have their own frames. A candid shot of her parents on one of their few summer holidays. A picture of her and Mark when they were little, thick as thieves. A couple of shots taken at team nights at Janet's house, her and Cassie somewhere in frame.
She picks up the pictures one by one and smiles at the memories, sad as it is to think that many of the people in them can't share this life with her.
Replacing the photos in the box, she looks underneath, reverently fingering her mother's locket and father's dog tags. She misses them still, and hopes with all her heart that there's a heaven somewhere and they are together.
Finally she picks up the small black box tucked in the corner, and opens it up, taking out the ring and sliding it on to her finger. She doesn't wear it out on base for fear of losing it, even on her tags. But sometimes, on nights like this one, she'll take it out of the box and wear it around for a while, just to remind herself that she's got something amazing waiting for her back home.
"I'm not going to tell them" she says, when they finally make it back to the front door, referring to her future staff on Atlantis. She thinks SG1 might already know, or will probably find out before she gets back, but it's unspoken that Jack won't mention it, and if Daniel asks, he'll make up some story about 'talking about it'.
"How come?" he asks, picking up her duffle.
"I want this to be our little secret. We can tell them when I'm back on Earth next- throw a party or something"
"With cake?"
"Of course"
"Sweet"
She smiles again, and kisses him soundly, taking her duffle from him. The ring is secure on her finger, because she's hours away from bumping into anyone she knows, and she'll have plenty of time to stow it safely in her luggage before heading to Atlantis in a few days. Also, she really wants to be able to look at it for a while, maybe even tell the random passenger she sits next to that she just got engaged, as though it's not going to be months before she sees her fiancé again. They're not ready to go public with their news, but this is the first time an engagement has made her want to shout from the rooftops, and she thinks that's all she needs to know. She's made the right decision.
"I'm going to miss you" she says quietly.
"You'll be back before you know what hit you"
"I know" she says on a sigh, stepping back towards the door, turning as she reaches for the doorknob.
"Sam"
She stops and turns back, and he's once again standing only a step away, hands in his pockets and a sad smile on his face.
"I love you"
She reaches for him, her hand on the back of his neck, though she doesn't drop the duffle this time. She knows if it leaves her hand one more time, she's not going anywhere. She kisses him firmly, decisively, but doesn't deepen it, instead pulling back, placing another feather-light kiss on his lips.
"I love you too. Way more than the food in the mess"
They both smile, and she turns to the door, finally opening it and stepping though as he walks behind her and leans on the doorframe.
"Give 'em hell" he calls as she gets to the waiting cab on the curb.
"Yeah sure youbetcha" she sings with a grin. She gives him a sloppy, mocking salute, and then kisses the fingers on her left hand before flicking them in his direction. He grins madly at her, seeing the glint on her finger and the spark in her eye, and he's glad he didn't wait until she got back to ask her. She slides into the cab, waves once more out the window, and then sits back in her seat, her eyes on the road ahead, and mutters softly to herself. "To Oz"