This Time of Year
On Christmas Eve 1973
Sam got the two best Christmas gifts she'd ever gotten, her Major Matt Mason doll and her grandmother's old rocking horse that she named Chester. Sam remembers both received plenty of attention for years after. Even when she'd long outgrown the rocking horse, she would ride on it, imagining its hoofs racing through forest or desert; she swore she could feel speed in her veins and the wind in her hair as she encouraged Chester to go faster and faster.
On Christmas Eve 1977
Sam crawled in bed with her mom late at night. Her father was away that Christmas, 4 months in to an 8-month tour. She told her mom that she had woken up because she could hear the reindeer on the roof. Sam asked if Santa ever brought a person, instead of toys, in his sleigh for good little girls who made a wish on a shooting star.
On Christmas Eve 1980
It was like no other Christmas she'd ever known; the silence in the house was almost unbearable. She and Mark opened gifts, things like books, new winter boots, and school clothes. Her father hadn't taken the time to ask what they really wanted and she and Mark hadn't bothered to let him know.
On Christmas Eve 1982
Sam spent the night at her friend Sally Knepper's house. Sally's mom made a turkey, potatoes, and stuffing. The Kneppers exchanged presents and told old stories about the time Sally's older sister Laura caught her father putting together a new bike at midnight, or the year Sally's mom forgot the apple pie in the oven and the fire department showed up when the neighbors saw smoke coming out of the kitchen window. Sally gave Sam a friendship bracelet and a diary with a lock on it. It was the best Christmas she'd had in years.
On Christmas Eve 1984
Sam slipped out of the house at midnight and met Lucas Spencer in the park down the street. He'd hung mistletoe on one of the branches of the weeping willow tree and they took full advantage. With her back against a tree trunk, Lucas's tongue in her mouth and his right hand in her panties, Sam Carter experienced her first orgasm ever, and it was quite a Christmas present.
On Christmas Eve 1987
Sam flew from Colorado Springs to Washington DC on her father's insistence. It had been a number of years since any of them had made a point of celebrating the holiday together. Mark had recently gotten engaged, but neither Sam nor her father had ever met Mark's fiancé. They waited up that night playing gin rummy, and although Mark never showed, Sam remembers that it was the first time in a long time that she and her dad actually had a nice time together; it wasn't strained or silent. It wasn't completely comfortable either, but Sam told him about the extra-curricular project she was working on in a spare lab at school, and he actually listened and seemed interested. They ate pizza and peppermint ice cream and watched the kids across the street ride their new scooters in the driveway.
On Christmas Eve 1992
Sam was stationed overseas. USO volunteers came in to help cook a big feast with all the traditional favorites. They decorated the mess with garland and lights, and a woman in a sequined gown stood at a microphone on stage and sang Christmas carols. It almost bordered on tacky and boring, and was the kind of thing that if someone had forced her to go to at home, she would have scoffed at it. Like it was some back-woods small town putting on a Christmas pageant and meal in the Lion's Club hall. But she was away from everything that was normal; she remembers being overwhelmed by people who would actually give up their own holiday to cook and serve her a meal. It was the only time she can ever recall "Silent Night" bringing tears to her eyes.
On Christmas Eve 1999
Sam had a date with a guy; not someone she was particularly interested in, but he seemed nice. As she left base that night, she rode the elevator with the Colonel. He did a double take at what she was wearing. He never asked, but Sam was sure he knew that she wasn't spending the evening with a friend. As they parted she wished him a Merry Christmas and reminded him about dinner tomorrow night at Janet's. He only nodded, but the look in his eyes made her feel a little guilty. Even though it shouldn't and didn't make any sense, and even when she tried to dismiss it, it bothered her all evening during the very boring date.
On Christmas Eve 2000
It was coincidence that her father happened to be on Earth. They went to a dinner at a local place Sam liked, and somehow Daniel had managed to tag along. They got a bottle of merlot, ordered pork chops, steaks, pasta, and chocolate cake, and talked for hours. Sometimes they used code, so the waiter wouldn't think them too odd. But not all of it was shoptalk, and Jacob told stories of Sam as a kid, and Daniel recounted the time he was a sheep in a Christmas play. That night, Sam slept better than she had in months.
On Christmas Eve 2002
Sam hung up the phone in her lab after having wished Mark and the kids a Merry Christmas and confirmed that their father still planned to be there to celebrate the New Year with his grandkids. Jacob had finished his latest undercover mission and was debriefing with the Tok'ra, thus he'd miss Christmas, but better late than never. Besides, the kids wouldn't care, they'd just be glad to see their grandfather. Sam had picked up toys for Jacob to bring along. He said he thought something from the markets on P7X-004 would be nice, until Sam had managed to convince him otherwise. Jacob was still new at being a grandfather.
Sam turned back to the project on her lab bench. The base was quiet and perfect for her to get a lot done tonight, but suddenly she wasn't as enthusiastic as she should be. A knock on the doorframe made her look up and Colonel O'Neill gave her a raised-eyebrow look. It didn't take much convincing to get her to join him for pie in the commissary.
On Christmas Eve 2005
Sam curled up under the blankets in her bedroom and cried. The wind whipped the trees around outside and snow and ice pelted the window but she hardly heard it. Her father was gone, Janet was gone, Cassie was all grown up, and she was alone now. There was still Daniel, Teal'c, or even the General that she could call, but she didn't want that tonight. Tonight she wrapped her arms around herself and wept, feeling all the pain and loss roll through her like muscle cramps after running too hard for too long. She fell asleep in her flannel pajamas, clutching a Kleenex box, and didn't wake up for another 12 hours.
On Christmas Eve 2007
Sam stood on one of the many balconies in the city of Atlantis, watching the ripples of the ocean in the moonlight. She'd saved the letters that had arrived one by one over the last week, either via e-mail or through the mailbag the Daedalus carried back and forth. She wanted to wait until tonight to read the words each of her friends—who had become her chosen family—had written. Cassie's letter was newsy and happy, while Vala's card made Sam chuckle. Daniel's was lengthy and detailed, of course; Sam was almost surprised that it wasn't indexed and footnoted. The short but beautiful passage Teal'c wrote nearly made her cry. Cam mostly said how much the team missed her, along with a few recent pieces of news from the SGC. She saved General O'Neill's for last. It was a little shorter than she expected—or perhaps hoped—but much like the man himself, it spoke volumes more than lengthy letters could ever say. "Come home soon."
On Christmas Eve 2008
Sam woke in the night and realized that it was because the room was so cold. She got up, and as she spread the extra blanket on top of the comforter, Jack woke. She got back into bed, and he grumbled about her cold toes against his shin. She curled up next to Jack under the pile of blankets, putting her head on his shoulder and an arm across his chest, and reminded him that it was his idea to spend Christmas in a drafty cabin in Minnesota. She suspected that the need for snuggling to keep warm was all part of the appeal for him. Though she couldn't see it, she knew Jack was grinning wickedly as he said, "Merry Christmas, Sam."
And it was.