Rumors and Truths
Sam heard the rumor, of course. They all eventually make way to her, even when she's cloistered in her lab.
Most people at the SGC were stunned. Some wouldn't believe it, chalking it up to another example of the largely unreliable SGC grapevine. Several more gossiped about the possible reasons behind it.
"Colonel Carter," Siler said, as he passed Sam in the corridor outsider her lab. "Did you hear the rumor that General O'Neill put in for retirement?"
"I did." Sam tried not to grin.
She knew it was truth, not rumor. She also knew it was a like her version of the bat signal in the Gotham sky. It was an alert to begin packing for a fishing trip in her very near future.
Sam was currently on her way to the infirmary, to do the only thing left on her list before heading home to find her tackle box. Half of the batch of macaroons she baked were in the bag she carried, the other half were at home ready to take with on the trip. Wouldn't Jack be surprised, she mused to herself. She couldn't cook, he knew that, but he didn't know that she could bake. How many hidden talents were they about to discover about one another?
Sam wanted to check on Cam before she left. She knew that he was healing, but she religiously checked on her teammates when they found themselves in the infirmary. Jack had taught her the importance of that simple act. That, and as once noted on the way to the infirmary to visit Teal'c with JELL-O in hand, "Bringing food shows you care. At least enough that after surviving an alien ass kicking, he doesn't end up keeling over from infirmary food."
The infirmary visit was short and mostly to the point. If Sam's enthusiasm was a little over the top, well, Cam could understand. He was one of only 6 or 7 people that knew defeating the Ori meant more to Sam than simply saving the world again. It meant so much more.
Cam knew, and he didn't call her on it. It simply didn't seem gentlemanly to do so, especially since she had gone to the trouble of bringing him cookies. The kiss on the cheek was a bit unexpected, but a nice touch. If only it didn't get back to a certain recently retired General.
Sam almost skipped from the infirmary. What was wrong with her? Samantha Carter did not skip, especially over a man. And yet, skipping was so very tempting right now.
She was acting like she was 11 years old again and this was her first big crush. A boy named Jimmy Dugan. Would she start picking out her school clothes the night before with special care for him? Keeping in mind, of course, that Jimmy's favorite color was blue.
A voice inside chided, wasn't picking out school clothes basically another version of what she did this morning while the cookies baked? Carefully choosing the red silk, black lace, and other special underwear from her drawer and packing them in her suitcase. The voice sounded suspiciously like Janet Fraiser.
The 8-hour trip to the cabin involved a taxi to Denver, a plane to Minneapolis, and a rental car to the woods near Cass Lake, giving Sam plenty of time to think about what she was doing. She was surprised at the maze of emotions she was feeling, many of them were not what she expected. But none of them included second-guessing.
Sam, of course, had been to the Minnesota cabin once before. That trip was under a different set of circumstances; loss, healing, and change were the primary centers of everyone's attention at the time. But whispered conversations under starlight during that previous trip had set into motion the possibility of her coming here now, under these circumstances.
"I'll still be under your command," she didn't dare look at him.
"I can't say no to the President."
She kept her focus firmly on the stars above. Refusing to look at him, even though she knew that's what he was waiting for: some sign that she was alright with this, that he wasn't abandoning her when she needed him most, that he wasn't hurting her.
He sighed. "Look, Carter, with your dad and…everything, you need some time."
Tears stung in her eyes. "I know. It's just…"
Jack reached over and took her hand. "Take some time. We'll talk."
She glanced down at their hands intertwined. It was a step. She looked back up and met his eyes. "Promise?"
"I promise." For them, it was a huge step.
Sam shook the memory off as she put the rental car in park and turned off the engine. Exiting and leaving her luggage (including the cookies) in the trunk for the time being, Sam walked around the side of the cabin, certain of where she'd find him.
Sam paused for a moment, taking in the lake, the lone figure on the dock with his line cast, his legs crossed lazily, and his beer sitting next to the leg of his lawn chair. She couldn't fight the grin that threatened to remain a permanent fixture for the next week.
"Hi," she called cheerfully, as she made her way to the dock.
"You made it," Jack said.
"I did."
Sam stopped at his side, and Jack tilted his head up and regarded her. She came. He knew on some intellectual level that she would, but on an emotional level he couldn't help but be a little relieved that she'd actually come.
He set down his pole and stood to face her on the dock. Along with the downward slip of the sun, a cool breeze intruded on the afternoon turning evening.
Jack noted, "No Daniel and Teal'c this time." Of course there wouldn't be. The bat signal "R" word wasn't for them, and they knew it.
"I noticed that."
"So." Jack took a step closer, scratching the back of his head in an absent gesture that told Sam he was a little nervous, a little unsure of himself. Even now, after everything. But he was hoping that he was fooling her into believing he was, as always, the confident alpha male.
"So," she repeated.
"Heard a rumor you guys defeated the Ori."
"Huh," Sam played along. "I also heard a rumor. Someone I know is now retired."
"I can up that," Jack said. "I got a strange phone call from the SGC about an hour ago."
"Oh?"
"Cam wanted to explain before a rumor got back to me through the grapevine about my girl kissing him."
Abruptly the flirtly banter was gone. Sam paused for a moment. Gathering that knowledge, turning it, examining it, she decided that yes she did, in fact, have a right to be a little pissed.
"Your girl? Kissing?"
'Uh, oh,' thought Jack. Her back was going rigid straight and there was a definite glint of something in her eyes.
He said, "Well, sort of," backtracking pathetically.
She huffed a sigh of mild annoyance. Maybe pissed was too strong a word. But still.
"A woman gives a friendly kiss on the cheek and everyone jumps at it?" She eyed Jack. "You know, one kiss doesn't mean I want to sleep with the guy."
"I know."
"Do I need to call him and–"
"No," Jack reassured her. There wasn't a problem between her and Cam. "Mitchell just wanted to make sure I didn't slug him next time I see him."
"Slug him?" She shook her head, almost grumbling to herself. "Men. Testosterone…"
She'd been in the Air Force for decades, she should be used to this kind of behavior. Is this what she would become now?
"I'm more than just 'your girl.'"
"I know."
Jack watched her features carefully as she processed. Sam Carter was really cute when she was irritated and her feminism was offended. It didn't happen often, and certainly less and less as the years went on. Somewhere along the line, Jack saw her almost let go of that feeling that she needed to prove she could keep up with the boys. Blowing up a sun now and again tended to put a damper on any kind of debate on the subject.
But Jack wondered if he should tell her what a turn on it was now, to see her like this, so reminiscent of when he'd first met her? Nah, probably best to keep that to himself. He wouldn't want to hurt his chances of… executing the plans he made for this trip. And oh, did he have plans. Strategic ones.
Jack reached out a hand. It closed over her upper arm and he pulled with only light pressure. Sam could have easily resisted, but didn't. She stumbled forward and embraced him as naturally as if they did this all the time, not only when someone died or ascended.
Their bodies molded together, and relaxed against each other. For a moment, Sam wondered if it was going to be this easy. If after all this time, they would simply slide into a new phase in their relationship, or if there would be bumps. She had always imagined lots and lots of bumps. But maybe not? Maybe this had been here for a long while, longer than maybe they had even realized, waiting, simmering for all this time so that it was already smooth and warm and easy.
Jack held her as the early evening breeze gained momentum. Then he finally leaned in, pausing ever so briefly a fraction from her lips, their exhales mixing, and he kissed her.
Jack could probably count the number of times he'd kissed her on one hand. After he went to Washington, he and Sam began talking and moving in a direction that was promising, including stealing a chaste, cautious kiss or two. Jack had been about to retire.
"I've got the whole weekend planned," Sam babbled in a decidedly un-Carterlike fashion. "Picnic in the park, followed by a quiet…"
She trailed off when she turned and saw the look on his face. Her heart sank. "What's wrong?"
He couldn't look at her as he told her, it was going to be hard enough. But to watch her react, that would kill him. Jack studied the very interesting scuff marks on his shoes. Generals weren't supposed to have scuff marks.
"Jack?"
"The Ori…" he finally said. "Because of the threat, they won't let me go. Not yet." The retirement plan, and other plans that went along with it, were on hold.
She gasped slightly. Then arranged her features to the ever cool, confident Colonel Carter. "On hold."
He dared a glance. "Sam, I'm sorry, you know that–"
"I know."
He crossed closer to her. "I promise you–"
"Soon," Sam said sadly. "Just…"
"What?"
"Kiss me."
They'd slipped a few times over the last year and a half; a few kisses were added to their clandestine list. The waiting had been difficult and they were only human. But knowing it was really going to happen, that it was only a matter of time now, had helped. They, for the most part, had behaved because they wanted to do this right. They could do this right, at last.
Jack broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
"Question for you," he said. The gentle lap of the pond against the dock was the only other sound.
"Yeah?" Sam responded, and he liked that she sounded a little weak and breathless.
"Just how many kisses does it take to signal that a woman wants to sleep with a man?"
Her response was nothing more than a short snort and a smile.
"Well," Jack continued, loving that he could now, finally, continue. "Because I'm on what… Five or maybe six?" He was being flippant and silly. "Can't blame a guy for wondering."
Sam leaned up and kissed him squarely on the mouth, leaving no room for wondering.
As they parted for air a second time, Sam said, "I think you just hit the quota."
"Sweet."
She smiled. Jack took her hand and together they walked toward the cabin. The first few stars began to come out above their heads.
"You know," said Sam, "just because I'm not 'your girl'…"
"Yeah?"
"Don't think that it gets you off the hook."
Jack thought for a moment, trying to process where her mind had jumped and he clearly hadn't followed. Wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last.
"For what?" he asked.
"You are most definitely 'my man.'"
He smirked. "Never doubted it for a second, Colonel."