This chapter takes place a week or two before Sam and Jack get married in my story 'Runaway Star.' It's not strictly necessary to read that story first, but if you haven't I'd be delighted if you'd give it a try.

I hope you enjoy.

Contains spoilers for the S1 episode Cold Lazarus.

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SARA

She was in the kitchen, planning their dinner, when the doorbell rang. It was nearly ten in the morning. Graham had left for his office some time ago, and the girls were gone to school. They were having guests for dinner that night, Graham's new partner in his medical practice, and his wife. Otherwise, she would not actually have been planning dinner. They were usually fairly casual about meals. But today, she was organized. There was even a pie in the oven!

At the front door she glanced out the side window to see who was there. Her eyes widened when she saw her ex-husband standing on the porch.

It was a few moments before she could move. Three years had passed since she last saw him, a strange meeting involving bizarre, classified events that were never fully explained to her. He came and talked about Charlie and regrets—and it turned out it was not really him, but a thing, a creature, shapeshifter... she'd tried not to think about it since then.

Then the real Jack came and took it away—but it was Charlie by then...

"It's not Charlie," Jack had assured her. And then he took him away...

Just as he took the real Charlie away from her forever six years ago.

She felt the old resentment building in her belly as she stared at him through the glass. Her hand fisted against the door frame... No, don't go there, Sara. It's over. I've worked hard these past years to get beyond that...

Jack hadn't noticed her at the window yet, he was looking down at his feet, an expression of uncertainly on his face—apprehension. Slowly her fingers relaxed. She reached for the doorknob.

Jack raised his head when he heard the door opening. She was standing there looking at him, a puzzled expression on her face. Hers was still a pretty face, he thought. It always had been. He'd loved that little unconscious pout in her lower lip, and the smooth, clear skin of her cheeks. Her hair was longer than the last time he saw her. Closer to the way she'd worn it when they were first married. The color was paler, though—not so much golden as ash blonde.

"Hi, Sara," he said.

"Hi, Jack," she answered.

"Um... I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything."

"I was just planning dinner." Hesitation. She stepped back slightly. "Do you want to come in?"

"Thanks." He stepped through the door uncertainly. It wasn't the house where they had lived together, of course. But just stepping through her front door was a small shock. And when he glanced around, he saw things that were familiar. A mirror that had been her grandmother's hung in the front hall. Through an archway, he could see the dining room furniture they'd bought when they married. He turned his gaze on her instead.

They couldn't meet each other's eyes. His dropped away toward the floor. Hers looked beyond him, missing his shoulder by an inch. She bit her lip.

A timer went off somewhere in the house.

"Uh... my pie..." she said. "Do you... want to come back to the kitchen?"

He nodded, and she led the way down the hall. There were pictures along the wall—pictures of Charlie, playing in the yard, fishing at the cabin—Jack's eyes clung to the images as he passed. He followed her into the large, pleasant kitchen at the back of the house. The smell of apple pie filled the room. He stood by the door while she went to the stove and opened the oven door, using oven mitts to remove the pie and set it on the granite countertop.

"It smells good ," he said. "You... uh... you make great pies."

"I'd offer you a piece, but..."

"No." He raised a hand. "Sorry. I wasn't hinting. I didn't mean..."

The corners of her mouth quirked up. "I know. We have people coming for dinner, that's all."

"Sure. I... I'm sorry... I didn't mean... or..." He shut up.

The silence lasted several beats.

"I can offer you some coffee, though."

"Yeah. Thanks. That'd be nice."

She waved a hand toward the kitchen table. "Sit down."

She brought the cups to the table and sat down across from him. They both sipped the coffee. She drew a breath finally and looked at him directly. "What are you doing here, Jack?"

He looked down into his coffee for a second and then up at her. "I came... um... to tell you I'm getting married."

"Oh." She hesitated. "Congratulations. That's great."

He shook his head. "I didn't come for congratulations." He explained. "I came because we still know... well... lots of the same people, and I didn't want you to hear it... y'know, as gossip." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Not that you should care... it's just..." She had called him when she married Graham, and he'd appreciated the gesture, on some level.

"Thanks, Jack. It was nice of you to think of me. Is she someone I know?"

"I don't think so. We serve together... served together—past tense. I've been transferred."

"Ah, yes. The old frat regs."

"Her name's Carter. Major Samantha Carter. She was with me that night at the hospital..."

"Oh. That night. The night that's never been explained, and that I can never talk about." She thought of the officer who had come to see her with nondisclosure documents for her to sign; she'd forgotten his name. "I don't suppose you can explain it now."

He shook his head. "Sorry." And she got the feeling he actually was.

"Right." She drank some of her coffee. "I do remember her... Samantha. Pretty blonde. She was a captain, then."

"That's right."

"Well. Congratulations again. To both of you." She said it expecting that to be the end of the conversation, shifted in her chair in preparation of rising for him to leave.

But he didn't move. Instead he gulped his coffee and avoided her eyes, looking even more uncomfortable. She watched him for a few moments. There was obviously something else he wanted to tell her. But, what...?

Oh. She got it—they were going to have a child. She felt a catch under her breastbone, and looked away, biting her lip, trying to get her breath going again.

He knew that she'd figured it out. "Sara..."

She swallowed quickly, closed her eyes for an instant, and then turned back to him. He looked miserable, as if he'd done something wrong, something deliberately hurtful. And it did hurt, a little, but not in a bad way—if that made any sense. It hurt because she was happy for him, and a little envious at the same time... She'd not been able to conceive again—she and Graham had tried for 18 months, despite the risk of her age.

"Sara," he repeated. "I'm sorry..."

She shook her head—he shouldn't be sorry. He should be happy—she knew he was happy, of course he was happy. And he shouldn't feel sorry for her. She had Graham and the girls, Graham's girls, whom she loved as if they were her own. And thinking of Julie and Betsy, she smiled at him.

"Congratulations again, Jack." Her voice was almost normal. "I'm very happy for you. You'll be a wonderful father."

"I hope so," he said softly. He stared at her for a long moment, and something inside of him let go. "I still miss him so much, Sara," he blurted.

Without thinking, she reached across the table and caught hold of his hand. He turned it at once, and tangled his fingers in hers.

"I know, Jack," she said. "I miss him, too. I think about him every day..."

"Yeah. He'd be fourteen now. He'd look different." His other hand tightened on the coffee cup. "He'd probably be playing baseball on his school team..." His fingers clinched briefly on hers, then withdrew, and he closed down, the way she'd seen him do a thousand times in past years...

"Do you talk about him, Jack?" she asked. He shook his head silently. "You should talk about him," she said softly. "It helps..."

"It hurts too much..."

"It gets better, easier. I promise. It never goes away, but it really does help."

"I... I told Sam what happened... to him."

"Good," she said. "But you need to talk about Charlie, too, not just what happened to him. What he was like. The things he loved to do..." She stopped, seeing that he was closing down even more, deflecting what she was saying. She gave it one more shot. "Tell Sam about him." For an instant she thought he was going to jump up and run. When he didn't, she gave him a smile and stood up. "I think I want to cut that pie after all! Would you like a piece? And another cup of coffee?"

She waited while he made his way back from whatever dark corner he was hiding in, and after a minute he looked up at her and nodded. "That'd be great."

xxxx

"I thought you were going to make an apple pie for dessert tonight," Dr. Graham Reed said to his wife as they were getting ready for bed. "Not that the brownie parfait wasn't delicious..."

"Mmm..." she said, biting her lip. "Yeah. I did make the pie. But then I had a visitor, and we ate most of it."

His eyebrow went up. "Oh. I see." Which he clearly didn't.

"Sorry. There's some left. I put it away for you. There just wasn't enough for everyone."

Graham watched her undress and slip her nightgown over her head. She was so lovely, soft and slim. He pulled back the covers and got into bed. After she went in and brushed her teeth, Sara turned out the light and snuggled in beside him. He kissed her, first her cheek and then her lips, and then settled his arms around her.

"Who was your visitor?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Jack O'Neill."

She felt him move slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. My ex-husband. He came to tell me he's getting married again."

"Why?" Was that a tiny twinge of jealousy he was feeling, he wondered. He had met Jack O'Neill only once. The man was pretty much the opposite of Graham himself, physically, at least—tall, handsome, tough and charming. Graham was redhaired, freckled, only a couple of inches taller than Sara, with the pleasant, wholesome kind of looks that everyone trusted, but never ooh-ed and ahh-ed over. But Sara loved him. No, he wasn't jealous. "Why come and tell you?"

"I guess because I told him before we got married. I thought it would be courteous. Jack and I had only been divorced about two years." She paused. "They're having a baby."

"Oh. That must've hurt a little." He held her closer.

"Only for a second," she said. "Jack was a great father. He was a natural at it. He should have kids. We talked about Charlie a little. Jack's still so closed up about that. It was always his way to deal—or rather not deal—with anything emotional. Shut down. Don't talk. After two sentences, he wouldn't say another word about Charlie."

"That's sad. I've felt so much closer to you because Charlie is part of our family."

She reached up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad there aren't any walls between you and me. With Jack, there were always walls. He kept his secret ops life in a completely separate place. It wasn't open for discussion. After Charlie died, he put him in the same kind of compartment. It's no wonder we couldn't talk." She paused. "His fiancée is in the Air Force, too. Maybe he won't need to keep so many secrets from her."

Graham stroked her hair. "So you and Jack ate the pie, huh?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"He ate most of it." He heard the smile in her voice. "He always did love pie."

xxxx

Jack had been way too quiet this evening, and Sam was worried. He got into bed before her, and when she came in, he was turned away. She climbed in close behind him, putting her arm around his waist. Usually when she did this, he would take her hand and press it to his heart, but tonight he remained stiff and still.

After a few minutes, she sat up and turned the light on. "Okay, Jack. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. Something's bothering you. What's happened? Have I done something to upset you?"

"No! No, of course not." He rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. "It's nothing like that."

"Do you have a headache?" she asked.

"No."

"So what's wrong? And don't say nothing! I know you better than that!"

He stayed quiet for so long, she had just about given up on an answer.

"I went to see..." the rest was lost in a mumble.

He went to see...who? A doctor? Janet? He's sick, she thought in panic. "Jack. Who did you go to see?" she demanded. "Tell me!"

He uncovered his face and looked up at her. "I went to see Sara today."

Sara? For a moment the name meant nothing to her. And then it hit her. Sara. His ex-wife. "Sara? Why?" Why on earth would he go to see his ex-wife.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Of all the answers he could have given, very few would have upset her more than that one. She moved toward the edge of the bed. "You don't know?! You went to see your ex-wife, out of the blue, and you don't know why?"

"Sam..." He sat up and reached toward her, but she drew away. "Sam, calm down. It was just a visit. We talked a little. She fed me pie."

"Really. You were—what? You were in the neighborhood, and just decided to drop in... After how many years..." She remembered Sara from that incident with the crystal people. How lovely she was. How Jack had held her close. What had he said to her? 'We were the best.' "What did you talk about, Jack?" Her voice had risen. She stood up, stared down at him. "How often do you go to see her, Jack? How many times have you talked to her?"

"Sam, stop it!" He bounded across the bed, catching her in his arms before she had a chance to move. When she struggled, he just held tighter. "Stop now!" he ordered. "We talked about you."

"What? Why would you talk about me?" She squirmed, but he was too strong for her. She kicked at his leg.

"Ahhh... Cut it out, Sam!" He let irritation seep into his tone. "I didn't do anything wrong—and you damn well know it!" Sometimes her hormonal moodiness could be quelled by his own show of temper.

She stopped struggling, and stood in the circle of his arms. After a moment her forehead dropped against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered, embarrassed. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're pregnant—and nothing's wrong with you." He kissed the top of her head. "Now can I explain?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Let's get back in bed. It's late." He climbed back over on his side of the bed and sat with his back against the headboard. After a second, she followed and settled beside him, her shoulder touching his. "I went to see Sara to tell her I'm getting married," he began. "When she got married to the doctor there—three years ago, or whenever, she called to let me know. It was shortly after that crystal alien copy incident. She was just being considerate. I thought she deserved the same courtesy, even though we haven't seen each other since that copy thing."

"It was the right thing to do, Jack. I'm really sorry I'm such a bitch sometimes." She rested her head on his shoulder. "When you went to bed, you just... well, you seemed upset. Distracted, I guess."

He was quiet for a few moments. "We talked about Charlie a little."

"Oh. I see." She slipped her hand into his.

"She told me I should talk about him... to you." He squeezed her hand tight. "About the things he liked to do..." He was forcing the words out. "How we played baseball... stuff like that, I guess."

"You can talk to me about Charlie anytime you want to, Jack," she said softly.

"I know. I will." He drew a deep breath, and she could hear the thickness in his throat. "I'll try."

"Anytime," she repeated. She cast about for a change of subject. "She fed you pie, huh? What kind."

"Apple." He relaxed a little and grinned. "You know how I love pie." After a moment the grin faded. "Charlie loved pie, too. Apple was his favorite."

She put her arms around him and waited, but he said nothing more.

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Thank you for reading. I don't plan to post another chapter until after New Years. There's just waaay too much to do!

Happy Holidays, everyone!