Grown-Up Christmas List

Disclaimer: Only my stuff is mine.

A/N: Heard this song on the radio the other day and inspiration struck. The holidays always give me mixed feelings…so the story's got a little bit of a sad angle to it. All ends well and happy, though. LOL. Set season five, after Daniel's "death."

Note: Thomas Kinkade is a famous artist. He does beautiful holiday pieces.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

ENJOY!!!

Sam stared out her frost-edged window watching the powdery snow fall from the overcast sky. It wasn't even five' o'clock and the street lights were already on, giving her street a very Thomas Kinkade look. The snow lay in drifts along the street, covering the frozen grass and dirty sidewalk.

Usually, Sam loved how the snow seemed to make everything clean and fresh again; like the Earth was being given a clean slate, all scars and unpleasant patches wiped away. The cold, crisp, and slightly damp air would fill her lungs and she could almost imagine that her slate was being wiped clean too.

Everything that she had done over the last five years was…overwhelming. And, while she knew that she fought for the safety of her planet, she sometimes felt that she was no better than the things she was killing. Blood covered her hands…no matter how righteous a cause she killed for.

She had seen whole planets decimated…families torn apart…people utterly broken and destroyed. She had witnessed Daniel's grief over losing his wife twice. The first time she had been kidnapped and turned into a Goa'uld. The second time…the one that rang with cold finality, was when Teal'c had fired the staff weapon that ended it all.

Daniel was torn between grief, betrayal, relief, and guilt. Relief because he knew Sha're was no longer suffering…and guilt because he felt relieved that his wife was dead.

And then…they had lost Daniel too. Grief tore through Sam again as the knowledge that he was no longer with them washed over her anew. She knew he wasn't really dead…but his ascension had left a gaping hole in her heart that felt like would never heal.

She had watched Teal'c lose his wife too and, for a time, the respect and trust of his people. He had given up so much for his fight against his long time oppressors…and he never complained. He bore the burden of his suffering silently, freely giving out comfort and strength to others who needed it.

Sam sighed, her breath ruffling her bangs. Pulling the sleeves of her sweater over the hands she turned her back on the window, squeezing her eyes shut, and pressing her fabric covered fists onto her eyelids. She didn't want to think about this because she knew who the next person on her pity train would be…

And she couldn't afford to think about him.

She had been careless. She had let him in…even if she hadn't been aware of it. He had somehow managed to worm his way past her carefully constructed barriers simply by being himself. He was strong, trustworthy, smarter than he let on…he was safe. He was so much more, but Sam stopped herself before she could finish her thoughts.

Unfortunately, her melancholy mood didn't seem to want to comply with her. All she could see was his face burned into the backs of her eyelids and his voice echoing in her head. His teasing tone making her stomach flip.

"Get out of my head." Sam groaned as she thunked her head once against the wall. All that served to do was give her a headache. She opened her eyes and found herself gazing at the falling snow again.

It wasn't fair.

In one rare, completely selfish moment, Sam allowed herself to voice her most carefully hidden thoughts. "We've given up so much for this planet…this galaxy! Why the hell can't I just have the one thing I want more than anything? Why can't I have the one thing I need most of all when I've never asked for anything? Dammit! Please!" Sam spun and slammed her palms against the wall, squeezed her eyes shut against the burning sensation of tears.

"I won't cry. I won't cry." She muttered, her head rolling from side to side on the wall. "Just…make this stop. Please. I love him. God, I really do. But…I can't. I don't want to hurt anymore. God…please." Sam, not a religious woman by any means, had never begged to God in her life. She didn't want to start now…but damn if she wasn't desperate.

As though realizing what she'd just said, Sam straightened abruptly and reflexively looked around. Of course, she was alone.

"This is stupid." Sam muttered angrily, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. Apparently, willing herself not to cry hadn't been enough. "God, this is embarrassing."

Shaking her hands as though to get rid of her self-pitying mood, she pulled the blinds closed and fell gracelessly onto her couch. Grabbing the remote, she flicked through the channels in search of the yearly twenty-four hour "A Christmas Story" marathon. Not a creative way to spend the night…but certainly a familiar, time-honored tradition.

And Sam really needed some normalcy right now.

As she prepared to skip across another channel, a slow, almost haunting melody filtered from her speakers. Sam paused, curiosity peaked for a moment. She recognized the opening strains of the song, but couldn't place it.

A woman's voice soon joined the cheerless melody.

"Do you remember me?

I sat upon your knee.

I wrote to you with childhood fantasies."

Sam's hand loosed its grip on the remote as she took in the lyrics. She knew this song. She pressed her lips together and averted her eyes to the floor as the words poured over her and seemed to darken her awareness to a single, fixed point on her carpet.

"I'm not a child,

But my heart still can dream…"

"No, it can't." Sam mumbled miserably. "There are no dreams. Only nightmares."

She knew this pity party was stupid. She also knew this was very out of character, but some bleak mood had crept into her heart and was seemingly refusing to let go. She had never been this way over a man before; that was for sure.

So…the combined effort of trying to convince herself that she wasn't in love with her CO and the memories of the less than savory things she'd done over the last five years were definitely not lifting her from somber thoughts.

"My grown-up Christmas list.

Not for me,

But for a world in need."

Definitely for a world in need. But also a little for Sam too. Blinking rapidly, Sam turned her eyes to the ceiling and, for a moment, let herself forget that she wasn't a kid anymore. 'Santa…I only want one thing for Christmas. It may seem like a lot…but, it's not.'

'Yeah.' Sam scoffed at her momentary lapse in age. 'It's just my happiness.'

"That right will always win,

And love will never end,

This is my grown-up Christmas list."

Sam blanched at the mention of love and quickly hit the 'power' button on the remote. She knew that right didn't always win. In fact, it hardly ever did. Power and underhandedness won out. She had learned that the hard way.

And, as for love?

How could it end…when it never began?

To Sam, it seemed that you could feel love…but until you actually acted on that feeling and the other reciprocated…well, it wasn't really love until that happened.

And that hadn't happened.

So her love wasn't real love?

Sam shook her head and buried her face in a couch cushion. Her head was starting to pound in earnest. She knew her love for the Colonel was real. It wouldn't hurt so much if it wasn't. The feelings she had for the man were the most real thing she had ever known.

Sam stared at a scuff mark on her wall until her vision started to blur and her eyelids grew heavy. She didn't really want to sleep, but it seemed like the best solution to her current mood. A few hours of blissful nothing seemed a blessing.

'If only…' Sam drifted into black.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

A frantic pounding on her door awakened Sam a few hours later. She blearily consulted her watch and saw that it was now ten' o' clock. The only three people who would ever bang on her door this late were all off on their own holiday excursions. Well, two were. The third was…somewhere no earthly being could reach while still alive.

Bearing that thought in mind, Sam approached the door cautiously. The pounding grew more insistent and Sam did a quick mental check of where her weapon was before a very familiar voice called out, "Carter! Carter, come on, it's freezing out here! It's me; open the door!"

Sam froze, stunned into an immovable state. She couldn't believe that the object of her earlier near-groveling was actually standing on her porch, demanding to be let in.

"Major! I know you're right by the door!" Suddenly realizing that her commanding officer was still standing outside (and probably waking up her entire neighborhood with his shouting), Sam sprung forward. She unlocked the door and pulled it open in one swift motion.

Jack stopped knocking mid-movement as the door flew open. His 2IC stood before him, looking slightly sleepy and startled. As his eyes registered her appearance he also noted that she looked incredibly sad.

That was to be expected, when Jack thought about it. They had just lost Daniel and the holidays could be especially hard times for people who've lost loved ones. He knew that from experience.

"Sir…come in." Sam said after clearing her throat and stepping aside.

Jack walked past her and made his way into the living room as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Sam shut and bolted the door before following him. Jack had stopped and was now leaning casually against the wall, studying her intently.

Sam blushed under his scrutiny. "Colonel…with all due respect…what are you doing here?"

Jack shrugged, not taking his eyes off of her. "Got some news. Thought you should hear it from me before somebody else told you."

A thousand possibilities raced through Sam's mind at his words. Someone had died…he was leaving…the world was ending…

All thoughts, however, stopped when something the Colonel had said outside her door flitted through her mind. "Sir, how did you know I was by the door?"

"I saw you through the window when I walked up to the house. I couldn't tell if you were sleeping or not, but I figured I should knock loudly just in case."

"Through the…?" Sam trailed, her eyes darting to the front window she had been looking out of earlier that the evening.

The window that she had drawn the blinds over.

"Carter? Something wrong?" Jack pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps toward her as a slightly panicked look flashed across her features.

"I—no…yes?" Sam scrubbed a hand over her face. "I could swear that I closed those blinds before I sat down."

"Maybe you dreamed it." Jack suggested, rather unhelpfully in Sam's opinion.

"Right." Sam agreed with no real conviction. She knew that she had covered that window. "Anyway, sir, what news? Is everything okay?"

"Well, that depends." Jack stated after a long moment.

"On?" Sam pressed when he didn't seem inclined to continue. "Sir." She added belatedly.

Jack winced slightly at the formality in her tone, but surged forward. "I got an interesting call from the…uh…the President, actually." Jack rubbed the back of his neck; obviously still in shock that whatever had happened was important enough to call in the Commander-in-Chief.

Sam remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"He congratulated us on a job well done, yadda yadda yadda…then he gave his condolences for what happened to Daniel." Jack paused to keep his voice from hitching and Sam felt that terrible hole in her heart reopen. "Then he said that in light of the past few years…he took it upon himself to bestow SG-1 with a few gifts."

"Oh?" Sam was shocked to say the least. They did their jobs because they needed to. They didn't expect or want anything in return. 'That's not true.' A small voice piped up in the back of her head. 'You do want something. You want him.' Sam squashed the voice before it gave her any more helpful words.

"Yeah. Uh…Teal'c is allowed to have an apartment off base."

"That's great!" Sam smiled genuinely. Five years of the same little room had to be wearing on Teal'c.

Even if he'd never complain about it.

"And he gave you…and, well, me…a—a joint gift." Jack stuttered, rocking back on his heels.

Sam frowned slightly. There was something he wasn't telling her. "An award, sir?" It was the only thing she could possibly think of that they could share.

"An exemption, actually." Jack cleared his throat and met her eyes nervously, waiting to see if it had clicked.

Sam's frown deepened. "An exemption, sir? From what?"

"From…ah…well, certain regulations." He tried his best not to spit the last word out, but it still came out as a sort of sneer.

No. No…he couldn't be suggesting what he thought he was suggesting…?

Jack continued before Sam could say anything, his voice growing stronger. "One regulation, in particular. The, ah, frat reg."

Sam choked. She was pretty sure that her face had been drained of all color. Except for the red hot blush that was creeping across her cheeks, of course. "Frat reg, sir?" She was disappointed to hear that her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

"Yeah." Jack's voice was low and he took a step towards her. "I know you know what this means." He paused. "I still…still…" he broke off, losing his courage. "Well, if I still…and you still…well, maybe…"

Sam closed her eyes and counted to three wondering if this was all a dream. This couldn't…couldn't actually be real…could it?

"I still." Sam breathed. "I—I do. Yeah, I definitely still." Inwardly, Sam kicked herself. Leave it to Jack O'Neill to reduce her to third grade sentence structure.

"Good." A slow smile spread across Jack's face, lighting up his previously shadowed eyes. "So…you don't want to, ah, return this gift?"

"No." Sam answered quickly. Jack looked amused by her enthusiasm.

"Me neither." Jack agreed.

A long, awkward silence followed, both officers wondering what the hell they were supposed to do next.

The hair on the back of Jack's neck prickled and he could swear he just heard someone whisper, "Kiss her, you idiot."

Without pausing to think about whether that was a good idea or not, Jack closed the distance between him and his 2IC and gently captured her lips. It never even occurred to Sam to resist. She sighed and allowed him access to her mouth.

When they both needed oxygen they broke apart and Sam laid her head on his chest, savoring the sound of his racing heart beat. At least she wasn't the only one having a serious reaction to what had just happened.

"Sam." Jack started, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. Sam smiled as his words vibrated against her cheek. "When I said that I still…I meant I still…love you." His words were halting, as though he was afraid she would laugh and throw them back in his face.

Sam pulled away and looked up into his eyes. So many emotions were warring to express themselves that Sam was forced to settle for a teary, half happy, half relieved, "I love you too."

Jack covered her mouth with his again, taking his time exploring the previously illegal territory. As they both came up for air for a second time they would later both swear that they heard a ghostly chuckle and familiar voice say, "Thank God. One more 'repressed love' look and I was gonna puke."

But they wouldn't recall this particular detail until much later the next day. And when they did, smiles would cross their already happy faces.

The End.

A/N: Please R&R! Merry Christmas!

Song: Grown-up Christmas List as sung by Kelly Clarkson