In Matters of the Heart
Chapter One: A Reminder
A/N: Oh, inspiration, how you hit without warning! This two-parter is set during the incomparable episode "Threads." This chapter is the backstory and buildup, while the next chapter will be the resolution. I don't want to give anything away…but prepare for intense shippiness.
Brief references to the episodes "Fair Game" and "A Hundred Days" aka one of the worst episodes ever. And to another one, but I don't want to give it away, just yet. Though I'm sure some of you know which one.
Enjoy!
Catherine Langford sat in her darkening study, hands splayed out on her desk, staring down at the piece of paper in front of her. A small square sheet of cardstock bearing simple silver filigree stared back at her, the names glaring brightly in the yellow light from her lamp. You are cordially invited to witness the union of Samantha Carter and Peter Shanahan on the Seventh of June, Two Thousand and Five. Black tie attire is requested. The invitation went on to say that the menu would consist of chicken, beef, or fish and to please choose only one and if there was to be a plus one, mark it in the appropriate check box.
Catherine sighed and glanced up at her husband, who was reading in their overstuffed armchair. "Sam's getting married."
Ernest looked up, not in the least bit startled. "O'Neill finally got his head together, huh?" He went back to reading his book like that was the end of the conversation, but Catherine didn't have the energy to be annoyed.
"Jack isn't the groom." Her voice was tired and her mouth set in a grim, resigned line.
Ernest didn't look up immediately, but his posture stiffened slightly and Catherine could tell he wasn't reading anymore. "Then how is she getting married?" His spoke very slowly, looking up at her like she was the one being dense.
She rolled her eyes, but had to fight a small smile. After spending the majority of his life alone, with only twenty or so years of human interaction prior to his exile, he could be very odd about interpersonal relationships. He whole-heartedly believed that everyone had a soulmate—a sentiment that glared against his scientific background and was only reinforced by the fact that he had been reunited with her…even after fifty long years.
"Somebody else asked her. She said yes." Catherine sighed and stood, moving to sit on the arm of Ernest's chair. "Over the years I was just…I was just so sure that Sam and Jack would eventually end up together." She half smiled, half grimaced recalling a time several years ago when Sam had called her, sounding as though she had a bad headcold.
"Sam! It's so good to hear from you! How have you been?" Catherine wiped her hands on her work pants, laying her soldering iron down, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder.
"Been better." She answered, her voice scratchy and congested sounding.
"What's wrong?" Catherine smiled sympathetically. "Are you sick? I can send chicken soup."
Sam gave a small laugh. "No, I'm not sick." The young woman hesitated, then pushed forward, speaking quickly like her words were hurting her. "Colonel O'Neill is stranded off world, Catherine."
Catherine felt her heart drop and she brought her hand to her chest. "Is he okay?" She glanced over at Ernest who was napping on their couch and thought about how long he had been stranded and how much she had missed him. Before Sam could answer, Catherine asked a question that she knew was much more pressing. "Are you okay?"
She heard Sam's breath catch over the phone and could picture her struggling to keep a composed face. "I'm…worried." She finally admitted, her voice several decibels lower. She seemed to deflate and a muffled thump led Catherine to believe that the young Major had laid her head on her work surface."I'm worried and—and I don't really know what else." She took a breath. "I just can't stop thinking about Ernest and how he was stranded for so many years and…" She trailed and Catherine smiled sadly.
"And how I felt about being on the other side?" Catherine took her silence as a yes and continued on. "I thought Ernest was dead, so I had at least some closure. But…it hurt, Sam. I felt like I had to find a way to bring him back even if it was impossible."
"Impossible certainly seems to fit the bill." Sam laughed bitterly.
"What's the situation?"
"The gate got hit by an energy blast before Colonel O'Neill could make it through." Her voice was tight and far away and Catherine could practically feel her pain and guilt over the line. "We've tried dialing, but it's gone or buried." Her throat tightened. "But we're proceeding under the assumption it's buried. There's an ally ship heading there, but it'll take more than half a year."
"And you don't want to wait that long." Catherine again looked over at Ernest and felt her chest constrict. He looked so peaceful, she could almost pretend he never went missing. A loud snore erupted from him and she rolled her eyes briefly. Then again, there were certain things she didn't miss.
"He shouldn't have to wait that long." Now she sounded wistful.
"So what're you going to do?"
"I'm attempting to build a particle generator. It'll blast through anything that's obstructing the gate, which, at this point we think is a Naquadah barrier." The younger woman sighed and Catherine could practically see the tears forming in her eyes. Her voice was quiet. "I have to bring him home, Catherine."
Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, her heart going out to Sam. She knew how hard those words must be for her…knew how much she was saying by what she wasn't.
Catherine shook herself from her memory and looked at Ernest. He was gazing up at her with an open expression and she was surprised to see he looked almost hurt. "What's wrong?"
"How do you think Jack is taking this?" Ernest pressed his lips together as he stared up at his wife.
"He's Jack, he survives." But Catherine could imagine his hurt too. He had never been as open as Sam had been about his feelings over the years. But she had seen his pride and care for her in his eyes and voice when he'd told her that Sam was being promoted to Major.
"Can't catch a break." Ernest shook his head sadly. "Who's the shrub?"
"I'm sorry?" Catherine asked, taken aback at the turn in the conversation. "The shrub?"
"The guy she's marrying."
"Peter Shanahan."
"Do you know him?"
Catherine frowned, again taken aback. "No. I didn't think about it before, but I haven't heard anyone mention him." She rose, staring absently at the bookshelf in front of her as though it held the answer to this puzzle. "No one. Not Daniel, or Teal'c. I don't really expect Jack to have, but I just spoke to Sam last week! Not a word!"
"Do you think she was engaged by then?"
Catherine looked down at Ernest, an eyebrow raised. "No, I think she sent the invitations before she knew she was getting married." Her tone was sarcastic, but without malice and Ernest merely rolled his eyes at her.
"I was just checking. Maybe she's been replaced by an alien. Or, oh!" He snapped his book closed and his eyes shone excitedly. "I was just reading a fascinating, supposedly theoretical report on how repeated exposure to-,"
"No, no." Catherine shook her head, cutting him off, her mind a million miles away."I think it's something much simpler." She glanced at her husband. "Something much more human."
Ernest made a face, but conceded. "Think something happened between them?"
"No." Catherine walked back to her desk and began searching for a picture she'd taken long ago. "I don't think anything did. And I think that's the problem."
Ernest came up behind her, a mischievous grin on his face. "What are you up to?"
"Sam said something to me long ago." She continued to root through her desk as Ernest looked over her shoulder.
"So?"
"It's something I think she needs to be reminded of. Ah!" She stood up, triumphant. The picture was in perfect condition, though the frame was a little tarnished. Slipping the picture out, she quickly scrawled something on the back of it and simply signed it CL.
Ernest nodded his head, finally figuring out what his wife was doing. "You don't think this is a little unfair to Shenanigan?"
"Shanahan." She corrected absently. "And I do. I feel a little bad, but I think it's more unfair to him—to all of them—not to do this."
TBC
A/N: Part two up soon! I promise our favorite team will be the stars of the next one!