Title: Goodbye because I Love You

Author: Mozambique

Paring: Sam and Jack

Spoilers: Up through season 9, The Fourth Horsemen pt II; but nothing specific so if you haven't seen much of season 9, you should be alright.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate SG-1, Sam, Jack, Daniel, Vala, Teal'c or anyone else I might have mentioned. I also do now own the song Another Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg. I'm just borrowing them.

Notes: Before I get a bunch of angry reviews about this not being Sam and Jack or that you hate the ending, I'd like to tell my side of the story. I am a huge Sam/Jack shipper and was quite disappointed when no mention was made of what happened to them after Threads and Mobeius. This is my take on what could happen to them, though I hope it doesn't. Anyway, I just heard this song and had to write it. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve

She was just standing there in the aisle. Her blonde hair a bit longer then I remembered but I still recognized her instantly. The way she had her head tilted slightly as she studied a pack of hamburger meat and the thin smile on her lips, like she was always laughing at her own private joke. Even the way she couldn't seem to decide which one was the best was completely her. I walked towards her, almost hesitantly, as she went through the packaged meat looking for the best one, wondering what scientific method she was using this time.

"Carter," I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "They're all going to taste the same once cooked, you know. So unless you're looking for some microscopic disease…"

Sam turned, the smile now a frown as she searched my face. My heart sank faster then I thought possible. Did I really look that different? Had my hair grayed that much?

"Sir," she exclaimed suddenly. Her face just lit up. She looked like Charlie always did on Christmas morning after the first gift. Or like Daniel with some new translation. Carter's eyes sparkled with delight and laughter, and her smile was infectious. I loved her smile, but I only ever really got to see it when she was tinkering with some new toy.

And that's why I never really complained whenever she asked for more time off-world to study some alien technology. Sure I rolled my eyes, muttered something incoherent under my breath and made sure that everyone knew how much I inconvenienced, but I never really complained. I would always go back to the Stargate right away to ask Hammond for more time. It had always been easy to spend one more night on the hard ground for Carter, to dine one more time on MREs, to go one more day without the Simpsons or beer. For Carter, I would have walked home.

If Daniel had asked… well that was another bridge entirely. And one I wasn't so quick to jump off of.

She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried.

For a moment there, things had been good, relaxed even. But the tension returned, like always. I still had my hand on her shoulder and we were standing very close together. Too close for my comfort, since I knew we couldn't go any further, and from the way Carter's smile had disappeared, I knew she sensed it as well.

I could see the turmoil in her eyes and I knew she was slipping back into our military routine. It sucked. I had decided this years ago, but it wasn't any less true now. We couldn't be together because of the rules, or at least that was the front we always put up. But sometimes I wonder if that was what really kept us from getting together.

When I left the SGC six years ago, I thought things could finally happen. I thought that maybe Carter and I would actually do something more then subtly flirt or make empty promises. But it never happened.

It was my fault really. Daniel would call every once in a while and sometimes Teal'c would be on hand to talk. But they would never offer to get Carter and I didn't suggest it. It was like we had a silent agreement to not talk about her. She never called me, only wrote. For my part, I never called her. But I also never wrote back and that is why, after a year, the letters stopped coming.

For the first few months, the letters came weekly. It got to be such a joke with my aids that I would lock myself in my office to read them. I loved them, they were the one thing that kept me sane that first year of endless paperwork. They were long, detailing the happenings at the SGC but very short on the personal life of the one person I most wanted to hear about. I learned all about Colonel Mitchalls taking over SG-1 and about Daniel's latest conquest, Vala, but very little of what was going on with Carter. Eventually even that was cut down and I began receiving letters that were only one page instead of multiple pages. They came less frequently as well. It had been five years since I had heard anything from her.

I don't blame Carter, but I just wasn't the letter writing type.

Very slowly, I removed my hand from her shoulder, aware that it was making her uncomfortable. The conflict I could see in her eyes was tearing me apart. I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her close and be there for her like I had promised.

"So, Carter," I said softly, breaking the ice, "I'm sorry I never wrote."

And then Carter did something I would have never expected. She threw her arms around me and hugged me. Startled, I was slow in responding but I'm a fast learner. We stood there in each other's arms – in public – for maybe a heart beat longer then was proper. I didn't care.

Blushing a furious shade of red, Carter was the one who ended it by untangling her arms from my neck and turning back to her groceries. God did she look adorable.

I had forgotten what being out on the field was like and I had grown weak and slow in the past few years. It was only because I had longer legs that I could even keep up with her as Carter headed to the cashiers. My heart ached as I realized that she was embarrassed about the way she had acted, maybe even worried about regulations still. Like I gave a damn anymore.

"You still at the SGC?" I asked.

"Yes." She didn't look at me and just started unloading her cart.

I waited, hoping that wasn't going to be the end of this particular question. Sure, it was a yes or no question, but I still expected more. Like in High School where the questions always ended "explain why." There had to be more then just yes.

"I'm with R&D now," she said after a sigh. But I saw a flicker of a smile touch her face and she glanced at me. Was it because of R&D or was it because of my pushiness?

"You've been pretty much running that for years. Why the change?"

Carter shrugged, "Personal reasons, Sir. I felt that it was time I retired from the field."

I knew she was hiding something, or leaving something out but I didn't push her. Instead I changed the subject.

"And how's Daniel?"

"Oh, you know Daniel, Sir; happy as long as he has something old to translate." This time I did get a smile out of her. "But he's mostly retired from field work as well."

"Please tell me Teal'c, at least, is still kicking some alien butt."

She laughed. "Yes, Sir." The women at the register looked at us oddly but I only had eyes for Carter. We looked at each other; the awkwardness gone. There was still tension; there would always be tension between us. But this tension was normal, I could handle this.

"Your total is $86.79," the girl behind the counter said. Carter pulled a card from her wallet and handed it to her. I would have gotten lost in her eyes again if it wasn't for the flash of gold.

There was a ring.

There was a ring on her left hand.

A wedding ring.

I guess I knew what she was hiding now.

Carter followed my gaze and quickly pushed her hand into her jacket pocket. My head was spinning. I was the world's biggest jackass. Here I was trying to walk back into her life after six years of not saying a word to her, just assuming that she'd want me back without even the decency to ask if she had found someone else.

"You're married." I said. Even knowing I deserved this, didn't make it any less painful. I had lost Carter, the one thing I had hoped would never happen.

But the worst part, the thing that was really tearing at my heart, was that I should have known. After eight years of serving together, and especially what we went through, I knew more about her then anyone on this planet, more then anyone in this galaxy. Or I thought I had. Why hadn't she told me? Or if not Carter, why hadn't someone else? Daniel, or Hammond, or Siler for crying out loud. Someone should have told me.

"When?" It seemed so inadequate, but it was the only thing that came to mind. All the wit and sarcasm I was so proud of had suddenly vanished.

"Four summers ago."

"Oh, I must have misplaced the invitation."

At least she had the decency to blush and look away.

We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged.

It was still snowing when I helped Carter carry her groceries to her car. If anything, it was snowing harder. I hoped we wouldn't get too much; I wanted to get out of Colorado Springs as soon as possible. Coming down here had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

I was probably the only one to see the irony when my superiors kicked me out of my office two days ago. How many times had I been forced to kick Daniel out of his lab after finding him still leaning over a translation at 0300? Too many to count. And Carter had been worse by far. Teal'c was the only one of us who had any common sense. When I worked at the SGC, I stayed late to make sure Daniel and Carter eventually got to bed. In D.C. working late at the Pentagon was better then being in my house alone.

I had such a different reputation there then I did at the SGC. In Washington, I was the serious General who always got his paper work done on time, didn't like my "inferiors" to interrupt me when I was working and was always saying odd things such as "yeahsureyabetcha," "indeed" and "It's all relative" that no one understood. But this was all just a façade. I hated it, but it was my own fault. And maybe if I hadn't ignored Christmas for the past six years I wouldn't have gotten in trouble for this year.

In November, I had been assigned a new aid. She was young, probably only a few years out of the academy, had long dark hair that she always wore back in a no-nonsense pony tail and had large dark eyes that gave her the impression of being constantly startled. Her name was Jennifer and that's what she wanted to be called, that or Sergeant Heisik; not Jen, Jennie or any variation. She was so different then Carter, and yet her energy and dedication was so very alike. Only no one had warned her about my dislike for Christmas. I came in one morning and my office was covered in bright, twinkling lights. Jennifer took one look at my face and began racing around the room in her haste to get it down before I had her fired.

But I stopped her, and I let the lights stay. Everyone was in shock for the rest of the week and I heard rumors that I was going senile – maybe I was. All I knew was that the joy radiating from Jennifer's eyes before I scared her was identical to Carter's when I found her at 0200 still in her lab. And that got me thinking about the one person I had tried my hardest to not think about for the better part of five years, Samantha Carter.

Carter was still the foremost thing on my mind when I was ordered to take some time off two weeks later and that's why I even bought a ticket out here in the first place. Or, at least, that was what I was blaming it on. Whatever the reason for my lack of good judgment, I realized my mistake on the four hour plane ride down here and had planed to go right on back to Washington the minute I got my bags.

You can imagine my horror when the man behind the counter told me that there was no way I'd be able to get out of Colorado Springs for at least three days. Not with the snow, he had said with a laugh, and most certainly not on Christmas Eve. So I cursed my bad timing and I cursed the big, thick snowflakes as I drove the rented car to my house and then to the grocery store where I found myself now, with the one person I most wanted to spend Christmas with.

At least it would be a white Christmas. Even if it was going to be another Christmas alone.

"Let's go get a drink, for old time sake."

She hesitated. And here was another good example of me not thinking again. Of course she had plans. She had a husband now, she couldn't go to a bar with me. She smiled sadly, regret in her eyes. "I don't think anything's open on Christmas Eve, Sir."

But I had it covered. I always did, she should know this. "Don't worry," I said holding up the six-pack I had just bought. "My secret ingredient."

"Sounds like fun, Sir," she agreed with an exasperated smile inching across her face.

I motioned to her car and headed around to the passenger side. "Get in, Carter."

Then I realized what I had just said and my happiness faded slightly. I handed her a beer and popped the top off of my own. "Guess I can't call you Carter anymore," I said.

"You could call me Sam."

I grinned. "Sam."

We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car.

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how.

"His name is Andrew. Andrew Marshall."

I blinked. "Sorry, what?"

Sam smiled and looked down at the ring on her hand. She began playing with it, twisting it around with her right hand in a edgy sort of way. The ring was very simple, just a gold band and a diamond. But Sam had never been a very complicate girl. It looked right on her. "My husband, his name is Andrew Marshall," She repeated. When I said nothing she continued to explain, "You were starring at my hand."

So what if I had? To be honest, I couldn't really believe it. This all seemed like some very, horrible dream. Last time I had felt like this, Sam had been sitting in her lab with a small black jewelry box in her hand. "People normally wear these on their fingers," I had said while my heart skipped a beat and my gut twisted into a thousand knots.

Pete Shanahan. The name made me cringe. Pete had been nice. But he was lucky that Sam had even looked at him, let alone given him a chance. My Sam deserved better then Nice, Normal Pete. And yet, I had tried to be supportive. Really, I had. Alright, so I had gotten my own girlfriend and I had acted like a jerk whenever I was reminded of the wedding but I never told her to call it off. I tried to be a supportive friend and nothing more then her CO.

That was probably my mistake.

I had always thought that that someone better, would be me. I had always imagined that when all was said and done, I would be the one on my knees presenting Sam with a ring. Because I had always believed that Sam and I were just meant to be. Arrogant? To the max. But I just couldn't imagine myself with anyone but Sam and I couldn't imagine anyone else being good enough for her besides me.

Guess I was wrong. Again.

"And what does," I said, swirling my beer and taking a sip, "Andrew do?" I could taste bile on the back of my throat and I'm sure Sam heard the distaste in my voice as I drew out his name like it was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen in my life; and I had seem some pretty odd stuff. In a way, it was. Seeing Sam married… I didn't have words to describe the sickness I felt in my gut. It was if something had died in there.

"He's a journalist," Sam said as she looked down at her beer. She was on her first and it was only half empty; I was almost finished with my second. "For The Gazette. Sports stories mostly."

"A journalist," I repeated with a shake of my head. "Really?"

Sam nodded. "He's pretty good."

"Does he know about the Stargate?"

Sam froze and warning bells began ringing in my head. "No," she said softly. "I never told him."

She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie.

The fact that she had never told Andrew the truth behind her work worried me. Hadn't she told me she never minded being single because none of the guys she had ever dated could have dealt with the truth? And now she was sharing her life with someone who didn't know her deepest secret?

"Do you love him?" Maybe I was drunk; though two beers had never been enough to make me loose control of myself before. I didn't just blurt out secrets. That had been more of Daniel's thing. I had backed Sam into a corner and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights: her blue eyes wide, face pale.

"We have a son. His name is Corey and he'll be three in March," she told me. There was a slight quiver to her voice as she said it. "Sir, he means the world to me."

"That's not what I asked you."

I looked into her eyes; at all the pain and darkness and longing. It was such a contrast to the cheerful smile that Sam wore. They didn't look right together. Like when you saw the moon during daylight or the sun shone through the rain. There was just something unnatural about it. And it broke my heart to see Sam so visibly torn apart.

"I'm," she paused. "content."

I said the years had been a friend to her
And that her eyes were still as blue
But in those eyes I wasn't sure if I saw
Doubt or gratitude.

"So, Director of Homeworld Security, how's that working for you?" Sam asked wanting to draw the attention away from her.

"The pay check is good. Parking space is wonderful..." I trailed off, trying to find something else I liked about my new job. The truth was I didn't much care for it. It was all politics and paper work. No action, no alien technology and no SG-1. The only time I got to catch up with my old friends was when I read a mission report and those were no where near as much fun as going off-world myself.

"Too much paper work, Sir?" Sam guessed, a smirk on her face. She knew me too well.

"That and all the politics." I leaned in and lowered my voice to a whisper, "I actually have to talk to the Russians over there, can you believe that? And I'm sure they're making fun of me behind my back." I sighed dramatically. "Where's that damn linguist when you need him?"

"I'm sure you could have Daniel transferred to the Pentagon if you wanted."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged and opened another beer, fiddled with the top for a moment and stuck it in my pocket. "I doubt Danny-boy would take to kindly to that." That was a bit of an understatement. Daniel would probably kill me if I made him drop all his research about the ancients just so I could have someone around who could translate Russian for me.

"Probably not."

She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was heavenly
But the traveling was hell.

The beer was gone and I was drunk. How that had happened, I wasn't really sure, but there was a slight humming in my head and five bottle caps in my jacket pocket. Sam hadn't even finished her one.

"A toast," I said, raising the empty bottle in my hand.

Sam glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "Sir," she said, "you've finished it all."

"Psh." I waved my hand in a careless motion. "When has that ever stopped me?"

She thought about it for a moment then smiled and tilted her head. "True." She looked at her bottle and then at me. "What shall we toast to, Sir?"

"To the Stargate," I said without hesitating. Sam laughed and held up her beer.

"The Stargate," she repeated.

"And the SGC." Sam took another sip.

"The SGC."

"To Daniel and Teal'c," I said, now on a roll. "And even Jonas."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Daniel, Teal'c and Jonas." The bottle was to her lips before she stopped and eyes me suspiciously. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

I grinned and waved my beer at her. "And to the smartest person this side of the Pegasus galaxy."

"Flattery isn't going to work, Sir, and I'd like to think I'm smarter then the people in the Pegasus galaxy as well."

"McKay doesn't hold a candle," I was quick to reassure her.

Sam shook her head, placed the empty beer bottle in a cup holder and turned the keys in the ignition. "I'm taking you home, Sir. I may not be drunk, but you are."

"What about my truck?" I complained. "I can't just leave it here."

But she had a plan for that. I should have known; Sam always had a plan even when it was something crazy. "I'll call Daniel in the morning and send him over. I'm sure he'd like to hear from you."

I groaned. Daniel would be nonstop talk about his study on the ancients and that was not something I really wanted to hear. Reading the watered down versions at the Pentagon was bad enough but if I was going to be forced to hear his versions while I was already sick with a hangover... wasn't going to happen. "Can you ask him to bring Teal'c with?" I requested, wincing.

"I'll do my best, Sir," she laughed.

But as Sam turned onto the main highway, we fell into the silence. With the heavy snow falling around us and the empty beer bottles at my feet, I relaxed into the passenger seat contently. Even if we weren't saying a word, at least we were here.


We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how.

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'...

Sam pulled into my driveway, the headlights rolling across the empty windows and sending shadows dancing across my walls. The place looked dead and empty. I guess it was, really. I hadn't been here in six years and even in the years before that, I had been gone a lot of the time, off-world and all that. For about two seconds I entertained the idea of asking her in but realized how stupid that was. What would I offer her? A beer?

We had discussed nothing of real importance and yet we had discussed everything that needed to be. The familiar tension, the banter, the lies; their hidden meaning spoke louder then any words could. Maybe though, that was just because I had never allowed the words to be said.

"Carter." I spoke softly as not to startle her. Sam seemed lost in her own little world, her eyes looking right through me.

"Sir?" Her car was in park but she hadn't taken her hand off the gear shift.

"Daniels not here to interrupt." There was nothing else I could say without coming right out and asking her but I wanted to know.

"Jack, I – "

But suddenly I didn't need to hear it. Making her admit it now, after we had lost any chance to do anything about it, was just cruel. I knew, I always had and now it would have to be enough.

"Carter," I stopped her with a slight shake of my head. "Sam, I know."

The silence that followed was familiar and comforting. It was the closest we had ever come to admitting how we really felt but it felt wrong actually saying it. "I know" had always been special; sort of like a promise that if things ever changed, I'd be there. Sort of like the "always" promise. I'd broken both though.

This would be the last time I saw her. I knew that as surely as I knew that she loved me or that I would have given her the moon if she asked for it. It was because of this that I was going to make one last promise to her, and to myself. I was going to walk out of her life for good. This goodbye was going to be forever, because I loved her.

I undid the seatbelt and opened the door, looking at my cold and empty house. Maybe I would call up Daniel, make him squirm for not telling me about Sam. Or maybe I'd call him up to just talk; if nothing else, Daniel was a very good listener. Maybe Teal'c would even be with him and I could see my old team again. If I didn't seem them now, I probably never would again. This was going to be my last time in Colorado Springs.

There were tears in her eyes when I looked at her one last time. I didn't want my last memory of Sam to be of her crying, but it couldn't be helped. Besides, this was goodbye after all. Why shouldn't she be able to cry?

"Merry Christmas, Sam," I said, trying to smile. My eye sight was blurring and I was blinking more then normal. I wiped a hand across them and it came back wet. I was crying.

"Wait." Sam placed her hands on the sides of my face and held my gaze. Then, very slowly, she leaned in and kissed me. Her lips were soft as rose petals and the kiss was no more then the caress of butterfly wings against bare skin, but it was enough. "Goodbye, Jack."

The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away.

I stood in the driveway and watched Sam leave. They had been right; I should have retired. I should have told her that I loved her. I should have just screwed the rules and regulations. There were a lot of things I should have done and now, because of my cowardice and stupidity, I had lost her forever.

The snow was still falling and it was cold but I had gone numb a long time ago. "Goodbye, Sam," I said to the wind. "I've always loved you. I always will."

I walked to my house then but I had to force myself to place one foot in front of the other. If I could, I would have just stood there forever, hoping that someday she'd come back to me and that'd I'd be given a second chance. 'Cause I didn't really care that it was all relative, forever without Sam was a very long time.

Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain –

The Gazette is short for The Colorado Springs Gazette. I just shortened it because I figured with Jack having lived there for eight years Sam wouldn't have to say the whole name. I don't own that either.