Title: The Fine Print

Author: Andraste

Category: Missing Scene/Romance

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I promise to put them back when I'm done.

Spoilers: Ethon (S9)

The ringing of the phone startled Sam out of a restless sleep. She untangled one arm from the covers and fumbled for the receiver. "Carter," she mumbled.

"Wakey wakey, Sam."

She smiled sleepily. "Bite me, Jack. Do you know what time it is?"

"Love to. And yes. Sorry. Just got out of the briefing from hell about the Prometheus."

She winced. "Oh."

She could hear the rustling of papers in the background. Despite the late hour, she knew he had to still be stuck at the Pentagon. "Yeah, oh." He cleared his throat. "Sam…"

"Yeah?"

"I read all the reports. Including yours. I just… Damn it. How close was it?"

She knew what he meant, but decided to play dumb, if only to buy a little more time to think. "Close?"

He sighed. "How close was I to having a chaplain show up at my office door?"

There wasn't going to be a painless answer to his question. She knew that now. "Jack…"

"That close, huh?"

She rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "Yes. I'm sorry, Jack. As far as I could tell when I beamed down, I was the last one off the ship before it blew."

There was a long silence. She could hear him breathing, harsher now than before, keeping time with her own unsteady breaths.

"God, Sam…" He inhaled deeply. "Y'know, I don't remember anything in the vows about 'in sickness, health, and exploding spacecraft.'"

"It was in the fine print, Jack. I keep telling you to read things more carefully."

A rumbling chuckle came over the line. "I know." He cleared his throat. "I love you, Sam."

She smiled. "I know. I love you, too. And this isn't permanent. Remember? We agreed to reevaluate our living and working arrangements on our first anniversary. We just need to stick it out."

"I know. But if shit like the Prometheus keeps happening…"

They both knew that her place back on the front line team was going to cause problems for them. Their marriage was long distance and times like this illustrated the fine line they trod in their efforts to sustain a relationship across so many miles. It took the recent loss of the Prometheus to hammer home just how precarious their lives could be, as well.

"Jack, you know I'll do whatever it takes to make it home. I know it just about kills you to sit here on Earth, knowing I'm off God knows where. Trust in me, and SG-1. Whatever it takes, Jack. I promise."

"Okay. Just… Maybe… Could you go on some nice, quiet, boring missions for the next few weeks? My delicate constitution needs a reprieve. I'm an old man, you know."

She snorted. "If I recall, I had a phone call a few weeks ago from a certain Major General, bragging about how, at his annual physical, he was told he had a body the envy of men half his age…"

"George called and told you that? Gee, you two are closer than I thought."

Now she laughed in earnest. "You are such a pain in the mik'ta."

"But you love me."

She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Yeah. I do."

"Sweet."

"Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Maybe. What are you wearing?"

"We're so not going there. Good night, Jack."

"G'night, Sam."

She clicked the phone off and dropped it, not caring where it landed. She burrowed back under the covers and smiled. That he wouldn't take her latest brush with the Grim Reaper well was a given. That they'd managed to discuss it, in their roundabout way, without it degenerating into a shouting match was testament to how well they were settling into married life. True, they still lived a couple of thousand miles apart and only saw each other on sporadic weekends, but they talked. They'd talked more in eight months of marriage than they had in eight years of serving together. They were doing their best to make this work.

But maybe a quick visit to DC was in order for the weekend…