The Stuff of Legend
Sam Carter was pissed. It wasn't just because she hated clichés - which she did - but she really, really wanted to kick the crap out of something and couldn't.
Sam Carter didn't do helpless.
And yet, here she was, staked out like a virgin sacrifice, tenderizing in the baking sun, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.
She couldn't even open her eyes, for crying out loud.
The mission sucked.
The planet sucked.
And the people of the planet REALLY sucked.
For that matter, Daniel and Teal'c sucked, too, especially if they didn't show up to rescue her like knights in shining armor before whatever it was came to eat her for dinner. Or before she died of heat exhaustion, dehydration, and sunburn, whichever came first.
While diplomatic missions could (and sometimes did) go horribly awry, nobody at the SGC had remotely anticipated anything like this. The downfall of the Goa'uld left a power vacuum in the galaxy, and many planets were turning to Earth for help and assistance. So it wasn't too surprising when the Feliti, who lived on an Abydos-like planet, had requested to meet with the blonde-haired representative of the Tau'ri and her team, dangling their naquadah mines as bait.
SG-1, it was flattering to realize, was famous across the galaxy.
Unfortunately for Sam, what SG-1 didn't know was that the Felitian leaders had decided that the wrath and insatiable hunger of the local demon (called "the belago" in hushed and whispered voices) might finally be satisfied if fed the extraordinary and obviously powerful blonde woman who had helped overthrow their tyrannical gods. Daniel had at least managed to tell her that much before she'd been dragged away from her teammates to be bathed and prepared for her moment of glorious sacrifice.
Daniel hadn't known what a belago was, and Sam could only speculate that it was something that liked to eat people, exotic women in particular, apparently, and the natives were hoping that eating her would prove to be such an exquisite meal that it would finally leave them in peace. Not that she believed for a second that any such creature would actually care about the gender (or hair color) of its meal. Men were just too chicken-shit to offer themselves up for dinner, and therefore subjected their wives and daughters to the horror instead.
Superstitious, sexist, cowardly bunch of bastards.
Belago sounded like a slow-moving creature, like one of those big RVs that had trouble making it up the mountain passes every summer when the Texans invaded Colorado. Slow-moving and stupid. That's probably why they'd injected her with some paralyzing agent the minute they'd dragged her off, so she wouldn't kick the shit out of it when it came to eat her. And God forbid that they would inconvenience the damn thing by forcing it to gnaw through her clothing to get at her. Nooooo.
She was belago bait. Paralyzed, nude, belago bait. Chained to a wooden pole that was riddled with splinters. Roasting in the sun in the middle of a freaking desert.
Maybe she should have taken that job at Area 51. It's not like Earth really needed her on these damned diplomatic missions, anyway. Daniel was the diplomat; she, apparently, was just something to feed the local monster.
Oh, yeah. Sam Carter was extremely pissed.
Jack knew that something had gone terribly wrong the instant that Daniel stumbled out of the wormhole, shouting for SG-3. Under normal circumstances, the last thing Daniel would want on a peaceful, diplomatic mission was a bunch of marines.
When Teal'c came through, wearing an expression that could only be interpreted as furious, and the gate shut down behind him, Jack felt the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that signaled the beginning of a really bad day.
He flew down the stairs and into the control room. "Where the hell is Carter?" he demanded.
Daniel looked at him with anguished eyes. "They took her. It was all a trap to get her. They're going to sacrifice her…"
"What?"
"There's some creature… animal… they believe it's a…a demon of some sort… and they think that it will go away if it eats Sam…"
"What!" Jack repeated with slightly more emphasis, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that somebody out there wanted to feed his former second in command to a demon…animal… creature…What the hell?
"It's a ritual sacrifice, Jack! They, they think that Sam must have special powers…she's extraordinary… smart… blonde… beautiful… brave… powerful …so she'll be able to satisfy the demon's hunger once and for all. It's not uncommon for primitive cultures to associate eating something with the ability to inherit its…"
"Daniel!" Jack interrupted, not wanting to hear the psychobabble reasons behind the fact that Carter was about to become something's dinner.
Daniel blinked at him behind his glasses. "We need to go back and rescue her," he said. "It should be easy, Jack. The Goa'uld prevented the Feliti from developing sophisticated weaponry. They only have knives, hunting bows, mining picks, clubs…"
"Indeed, O'Neill," Teal'c finally spoke up. "There are fifteen of them guarding the gate, but two simple Goa'uld shock grenades will take them out easily. We must hurry before the belago reaches Colonel Carter."
"Belago?" Jack asked, frowning. "Isn't that some kind of whale?" Hadn't Daniel said that Feliti was a desert planet? He really needed to pay more attention to these briefings now that he was in charge…
"You're thinking of a beluga," Daniel said. "Belago is the thing that's going to eat Sam."
Oh, well, that made everything perfectly clear. "And a belago is….?"
Daniel shook his head. "We didn't see it. But apparently it, um, likes the, uh, taste of… um… exotic women."
Jack's brain sorted through several responses to that, none of which he decided he wanted repeated around the base, or, God forbid, on an official report. "Well, it's not going to get a taste of Carter," he finally said. That was safe, wasn't it? He looked around the gate room. Colonel Reynolds was standing at attention a short distance away. "Get in gear; be ready to go in fifteen."
"Yes, sir!" The colonel snapped a sharp salute and turned on his heel to gather up his team.
"And get a med team to go along!" Jack called out after him.
Reynolds nodded, acknowledging the command.
He turned back to Teal'c and Daniel. "You two okay?"
Daniel nodded.
"We were asked to disarm before entering the High Council's sacred chamber prior to negotiations," Teal'c supplied.
"They said it was traditional for all parties to be unarmed," Daniel added, clearly chagrinned. "Which isn't unusual. But we were forcibly separated from Sam once we were inside."
Jack nodded. He knew how these things went. "Do you think she's still alive?"
Daniel's eyes were worried, but he nodded. "I would expect some kind of ritual. A ceremony or something. We heard drums and chanting in the distance while we were escorted back to the gate. Hopefully it will take a while. Of course, the gate is a ways from the village, and it sounded like they took Sam in the opposite direction…"
"Well, get your kits replaced. We leave in fifteen minutes."
Daniel looked at him in surprise. "We?"
"I'll be damned if I sit around here waiting when something out there is getting ready to eat my gate expert," Jack said, knowing it was true. This was one minimal-risk mission he was incapable of sitting out. Carter was in danger, and dammit… He wasn't about to let someone else go galloping to her rescue while he held down the fort. No way in hell. "I might be needed to salvage the treaty after we beat the crap out of them and save Carter." That sounded like proper justification, didn't it?
Daniel looked at him and blinked. "Yes, of course," he said in a way that suggested he knew exactly why Jack was getting ready to abandon his post, but was willing to go along with Jack's charade about the treaty. "As the former leader of SG-1, you are in a unique position to smooth things over with their leadership."
Jack smiled at Daniel and looked up at Walter Harriman, who was manning the control booth. "Sergeant, the base is yours. If anyone calls, tell them I'm busy!"
He was fairly certain that Harriman paled slightly at this, but to give the man credit, his expression didn't change. "Yes, sir!"
As they moved down the corridor toward the armory, Jack glanced at Daniel, unable to contain himself any longer. "Soooo… Do exotic women really…?"
"Don't even go there, Jack," Daniel interrupted without looking at him.
"Yeah, you're probably right…"
The drums had stopped beating long ago, and Sam figured that the villagers had tucked tail before the belago reared its ugly head. Assuming, of course, that it had a head. Maybe it was a giant, sand-surfing, desert jellyfish. Or something plant-like, yet mobile, that merely digested its victims after spearing them on cactus-like thorns. She couldn't stop her mind from speculating morbidly on the many varied forms of alien life that might have been summoned by the drums to come enjoy a free meal.
It was a good thing that she heard the distant sound of people calling her name before she heard the scrape of something large, slow, and heavy moving across the sand towards her. She fought down a rising panic with the vibrant hope that her comrades would reach her before the belago did.
Still paralyzed, Sam had no control over her breathing while she waited, and though she felt as if her heart should be racing with fear, she knew it was not. The result was a feeling of disconnect, as if only the pain in her sunburned back kept her anchored to reality as the scraping sound grew steadily louder.
Suddenly, a staccato burst of automatic weapons fire split the air. There was cursing and more shouting, and the sound of a staff weapon blast, followed by zats. Terrifyingly, the scraping sound paused, but did not stop.
Sam fought a round of nausea. What in the galaxy could survive all that?
Someone, it almost sounded like Jack O'Neill, yelled, "Fire in the hole!" and a moment later she snapped violently back into her body as she was slammed back against the pole in an explosion of sound and pain.
Grenade, her mind supplied when her head stopped ringing enough for coherent thought. But there was silence where the scraping had been. God, that must have been close.
She heard the sound of booted feet pounding through sand, coming towards her.
"Jesus, Carter…" Jack's voice said nearby, startling her. What was he doing here?
Cool fingers pressed against her neck, and she realized someone was taking her pulse. I'm not dead, you idiot, she wanted to say.
"She's got a pulse," Jack said, relief evident in his voice. "But it's slow. Her back's pretty badly sunburned."
Very observant, sir. What was your first clue? The lack of clothing, the unusually high levels of solar radiation on this planet, or the lobster-colored skin? At least, she assumed that she must be lobster-colored by now; she certainly felt like she'd been broiled alive.
"If you can get her off the pole, we'll take over from here, sir," a strange voice said. Probably one of the field medics from SG-21, she thought. Great, more people to see her naked. The belago may not have eaten her, but she still might just die of embarrassment.
"Allow me," Teal'c said behind her.
She heard a staff weapon power up and flinched mentally as the blast hit the chains holding her up by her arms, the flash of heat close enough to singe her hair. Her support gone, she collapsed bonelessly into her commanding officer's arms. At least, she assumed it was the Jack trying to gently lower her to the ground. And failing spectacularly on the gentle part. God, I hope Daniel isn't taking pictures of this.
"C'mon, Carter, now would be a good time to wake up and threaten me with a harassment lawsuit," he muttered. "Get that stretcher over here," he said, louder, as more hands started to help. "This sand is hot."
Eventually, she was moved again, and a blanket was draped over her body (thank God) as multiple hands arranged her arms and legs on the stretcher.
"Colonel Carter? Can you hear me?" an unfamiliar voice asked.
Someone shook her shoulder. White-hot pain shot through her tender skin and sore arm, but she couldn't cry out in pain. Yes, I can hear you, dammit.
A knuckle rubbed her sternum painfully. "No response to pain stimuli," the voice said.
Fingers groped her skull. Someone lifted her eyelid, and light seared into her brain blinding her to everything but the pain of it.
"No evidence of head injury, but her pupils are fully dilated." Blissfully he let her eye close again.
"Could she be drugged?" Daniel asked from beside her.
Bless you, Daniel.
"It's possible, Dr. Jackson. Dr. Brightman will check for that back at the SGC, I'm sure. We'll give her oxygen support and set up an IV now."
She felt the sting of a needle inserted into her arm, and a plastic mask was placed over her face and pressed down tightly. Someone placed bandages on her wrists under the manacles where they'd been rubbed raw. Then she was strapped tightly to the stretcher, causing her sunburned skin to scream in anguish.
"Okay, she's packaged and ready to go, sir." She felt her stretcher being lifted.
"Good, let's go," Jack said. "Hang in there, Carter, dammit." Cool fingers stroked her forehead, and she allowed herself a moment to enjoy his tender concern, focusing on his touch rather than her misery.
She drifted in and out of awareness on the hike back to the gate. She knew her team was there beside her, and their close proximity allowed her to relax, exhaustion and drugs overcoming her pain.
When Dr. Brightman's voice finally pierced the haze of her consciousness, she realized she didn't remember the trip back through the Stargate. The smell of antiseptics assaulted her nose, and the beeping of a heart monitor sounded beside her. She must be in the infirmary. How long had she been out? Long enough for someone to have removed the manacles from around her wrists, but not long enough for her back to stop throbbing in agony.
Dr. Brightman droned on. "Her autonomic functions such as breathing, heartbeat, and digestion are functioning at a severely depressed level; you see how slow her heartbeat and breathing are - and she is completely unresponsive to external stimuli."
Completely unresponsive, my ass. I can feel everything just fine, thank you.
"Is she in a coma, then?" the General asked.
"I don't think so. Her EEG shows a pattern I've never seen before."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, I don't know, sir. If she was drugged, it could be caused by the chemical or chemicals in her system. For example, different anesthetics cause different patterns, and this could be something unique to this particular chemical substance."
"I see," Jack said.
"It could also be caused by brain damage, I suppose," the doctor continued almost reluctantly. "I won't know until she regains consciousness."
Sam fought down an almost painful bout of fear at those words. It wasn't true. Her brain was fine; she'd be just fine. She just had some paralyzing poison in her system, and the effects would wear off soon.
"Her pupils don't react to light, but her oxygen levels are good, even without supplemental oxygen," the doctor continued after a moment of silence. "My guess is that it's another one of those oddball alien things, sir. I'm not quite sure how to treat it. We're doing a scan for foreign substances, but even if we turn something up, we're not likely to be able to identify it right away."
"I see. What about her sunburn?"
"The pole provided some protection, but she has some blisters on the back of her shoulders and buttocks."
"Does she need treatment at a burn center?"
"No, despite the high UV levels on the planet, her exposure was not prolonged. I'm far more concerned about her unresponsiveness."
"Would it help you if we could get the Feliti to tell us what they did to Sam? We killed their damn belugo; the least they could do is help us out here."
"If they used a toxin of some sort, it might be helpful to get a sample. It would be even better if they knew of some sort of antidote."
"Right, I'll send Daniel, Teal'c, and SG-3 back to get some answers."
"Thank you, sir."
Sam breathed a mental sigh of relief as she heard him leave.
She'd been dozing lightly, having adjusted to the quiet sounds made by Dr. Brightman and the nursing staff as they went about their business, but the sound of the infirmary door bursting open startled her awake instantly. She recognized his footsteps entering the infirmary even before he spoke.
"How is she doing?" the General asked.
"No change. I was just getting ready to apply some ointment to the burns on her back," Dr. Brightman said tiredly.
"You've had a long day," Jack said. "Where are your nurses?"
"Johnson and Radley went to the commissary since they missed lunch and dinner on standby, and Michelle's son has the flu so I sent her home."
"Here," Jack said. "Let me do it. I know you've got a mountain of paperwork to take care of before you go home."
"Sir, the nursing staff…"
"I'll take care of it. Just her back and shoulders, I swear."
"Sir, it's not appropriate," Dr. Brightman said bluntly after a long pause.
"If we were in the field I'd be expected to do it. Besides, it's Carter, Doc," he said, as if that explained everything. "Let me do this for her."
"You're her CO."
"Not for long, perhaps," he said after a moment of silence.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Sam wondered.
"Sir?" the doctor asked.
Sam heard him sit down in the chair, sighing tiredly. She could imagine the exhausted expression on his face.
"I tell you this in strict confidence, because I know you're considering taking that CDC job, and it might affect your decision. General Hammond is retiring. I've been offered his job. I'm seriously considering it."
Sam was stunned. He was going to leave? Go to Washington? Leave them? Leave her?
"That's…" Dr. Brightman trailed off into silence.
"Doc?"
"Interesting."
"I may be leaving the SGC, and you find it… 'interesting?' And here I thought you liked me."
"No, sir. I mean, yes, sir, you're the best commanding officer I've had the honor to serve under. It's just… her heartbeat sped up."
"What?"
"Colonel Carter's heartbeat sped up when you said you might be leaving."
Yes! Sam exulted. Yes! Yes! Yes!
"Doc?"
Sam's eyelids were lifted again, one by one, and again she was blinded by searing light.
"Her pupils are still fully dilated. But I suppose it's possible that she can hear us."
"Is that possible?"
"Well, she may be paralyzed but semi-conscious of what is going on around her. There's no way to tell for certain..."
Yes!
"Hey, Carter, can you hear me?" Jack asked.
Yes, Jack.
"Of course, if she's paralyzed, she has no way of telling us…," Dr. Brightman pointed out patiently.
Jack apparently decided to ignore her. "So… Carter… I was thinking about taking this promotion. That would get us out of that chain of command problem, you know."
Did he just say that?
"We could date… get married. Elope." The next words were whispered in her ear. "Have mad, passionate sex on my kitchen floor."
Sam could not believe that her commanding officer had just said this. Her brain exploded - or imploded, she wasn't sure - as a billion electrical impulses tried to reach portions of her anatomy that would have liked to respond to his words but were cruelly thwarted before leaving her head.
Jack started chuckling. "Your heart skipped a beat, Sam," he said, delight evident in his voice. "But if you've been listening to us all along, you'll know we've been worried about brain damage. I hope to God this means you're still in there."
And I hope to God you weren't just messing with my head just to get my heart to react.
"All right," Brightman said. "I think you've proven your point, General. I don't like what her vitals are doing," the doctor continued.
"Calm down, Sam," Jack said, taking her hand gently. "It's okay. You're going to be okay." He paused for a long moment, slowly stroking the skin on the back of her hand with his thumb. "You're in the driver's seat, all right? You're in control. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want to happen…"
She wasn't sure if he was talking about her medical condition or, or other things, but the effect was the same, and she felt herself relax.
"I'm sorry if you're in any pain, Colonel Carter," Dr. Brightman said. "I've been afraid to administer any analgesics for fear of interactions with whatever is already in your system. It's our hope that the effects will start to wear off soon."
That would certainly be nice.
"Doc, I'll let you finish putting that ointment on. Hopefully that will help her." He squeezed her hand gently. "Carter, hang in there, okay? Daniel and Teal'c are trying to get an antidote for you. Even if they don't, you'll get through this." He squeezed her hand again, and then his footsteps retreated back towards the door.
Dr. Brightman sighed audibly. "Well, Colonel. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid. I hope you're not too disappointed…" The doctor's cold hands rolled her gently onto her side, and while Sam could hear the smile in the doctor's voice as she spoke, the truth was, she wished it was Jack slathering the ointment on her skin instead.
Jack jerked awake, startled from his doze by a noise. Expecting to see the nightshift nurse, he was surprised to find the infirmary empty. Teal'c and Daniel had both headed off to bed, exhausted and frustrated from their unproductive interactions with the Feliti. The information they'd gathered on their third trip to the planet – and briefly he wondered if that was some kind of long-distance travel record for a single day - indicated that the poison would eventually wear off, but no one knew when, especially given Carter's wacky reactions to drugs in general.
He glanced at his watch: 03:00. He hadn't meant to stay with Carter all night, but he must have fallen asleep in his chair. He rubbed his neck, trying to relieve the stiffness. The noise repeated, and he smiled, realizing that Carter was snoring slightly.
He did a double take. Checking the readings on the equipment monitoring her vitals, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He couldn't be certain, but he thought her heartbeat had sped up some, and her breathing, as well… which might account for the snoring. He couldn't make heads or tails out of the EEG, though, so he leaned forward to grab the call button to summon the nurse.
As he reached forward, his hand brushed Carter's, and he froze as her hand twitched in response.
"Sam?" he asked, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
He held his breath as she stirred, her mouth frowning. Finally, her eyes fluttered open. He smiled as she focused blearily on him, and his heart swelled. It was like this every time, he realized. Every time he saw those gorgeous blue eyes open after fearing he'd never see them again, he could damn near cry for joy.
"Jack?" Her voice was hoarse.
"Hey. Glad to have you back."
She smiled weakly and tried to swallow.
"Let me get you some water," he said, standing to go find a cup.
She sucked gratefully through the straw when he returned a moment later.
"Thanks," she said when she was done, handing him back the cup.
He pulled a bedside table over and set the water down where she could reach it.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"A little… fuzzy…"
He grinned. Carter was usually a bit more precise with her words than "fuzzy." "The Feliti poisoned you," he told her, unsure what she might remember. "Some sort of paralyzing agent."
"I know," she said, an odd catch in her voice. "I was… aware of everything…"
"Everything?"
She nodded.
Oh, boy,Jack thought. While telling her he wanted to have sex with her on the kitchen floor had seemed safe enough when she'd probably been unconscious - and definitely had been unable to respond to him - now it was time to pay the piper.
"Did you mean it?" she asked softly.
"Ummmm…?" He wasn't positive what she was referring to, and he wasn't about to have that conversation unless she initiated it.
She smiled indulgently. "I remember something about mad, passionate sex on your kitchen floor…"
He grinned. "Ah! Yes. I meant that. Definitely, absolutely, certainly…"
She just continued smiling at him. But it emboldened him. She could just be flirting with him, but he was sick and tired of the little tap dance they'd been doing around each other for years. If he took Hammond's job, they could finally do something about it. He'd known for a long time that Carter was attracted to him. He was smart enough to recognize the signs, and he knew she cared about him deeply. But he didn't know for certain if she loved him beyond the deep friendship they'd shared for so many years. He forced himself to meet her eyes.
"I'm tired of waiting, Sam. I want to take Hammond's job so we can…," he waved his hand between them, "you know. Find out if it works."
He was pretty sure he didn't imagine the uptick in her heart rate at his words, but he waited patiently while she struggled to say something, her smile faltering. He held his breath, desperately hoping he hadn't misread the situation.
Finally she swallowed. "I don't have a great track record," she said.
Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, that wasn't it. He chuckled. "Carter, you're as lousy at this touchy-feely crap as any man," he teased. "So I'll help you out. I tell you I love you, then you tell me you love me back. Or not. But break it to me gently. I'm an old man."
"Do you?" she asked.
Jack frowned. Did he what? Love her? How could she possibly not know how much he loved her? Or was she talking about her track record again? What track record? Her track record with men?
"Love me?" she clarified, when he didn't answer right away.
She sounded so uncertain, it took his breath away. "Sam…" he began, but she interrupted him.
"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that," she shook her head, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.
Jack ran his fingers through his hair. He recognized a strategic retreat when he saw one, but this time, this time, he wasn't going to let her get away.
Dammit. One of them should be good at the emotional stuff. Carter was good at so very, very many things, why couldn't this be one of them? But no. That wasn't fair. She couldn't be good at everything. Hell, if he wasn't sure how Sam felt about him, was it really such a stretch to think that perhaps she didn't know how he felt about her? Carter lived in her head, and she didn't trust her heart. He knew this about her. So, in this, he had to take the lead. In fact, maybe he should have done that years ago.
"Sam," he said quietly, waiting until she finally found the courage to look at him again. He smiled when she did. "I love you. I always will."
He almost laughed at her expression, which went through twenty different emotions in a nanosecond before settling on stunned.
"I…," she began, then faltered, clearly overwhelmed.
"Sam?" Jack said softly. "Remember what I said about being old? Break it to me gently."
She smiled, then shook her head. "Jack, you aren't old." She swallowed, then took his hand in both of hers. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm terrible at this sort of thing…one of many reasons for my poor track record with men. But… I do love you. I guess I've been trying to deny it for so long that it's hard to say out loud."
Jack O'Neill may not have been an old man, but he wasn't a young man, either. Yet, at that moment, he felt younger, and happier, than he had in decades. He leaned forward, kissed the hands still holding his, then leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, and kicked his feet up on the bed.
"You don't have to look so smug about it," Sam said, but the indulgent smile had returned.
Indulgent was good, he decided. She'd need lots of indulgence to put up with him. "Why not?" he asked, grinning ear-to-ear. "I just rescued the most beautiful woman in the entire universe from the evil Feliti belooga, and now she's all mine."
Sam rolled her eyes, just as he knew she would. "I hate clichés. And it's belago, not belooga. Besides, I've saved your life a time or two, as I recall."
"Be that as it may, this time, you can't deny that it was me who blew it into a dozen sluggy pieces, thereby saving your life. That makes me your knight in shiny armor."
"Oh, whatever," she said in disgust, and Jack had to laugh. "What was it, anyway?" she asked.
He remembered that she hadn't been able to see it. "Well, it was sort of... slug-like - without the slime - and it absorbed the bullets we hit it with and just kept going. Took a grenade to do enough damage to stop it. I can understand why the Feliti were never able to kill it themselves."
"Big?"
"Very big. Big enough to enjoy human-sized snacks."
He saw her shiver slightly. "Thank you," she said seriously. "I was really… terrified," she confessed quietly.
Her words gave him pause, because he knew that she would never have told him that as her commanding officer. Just like that, their relationship had changed. It would take them a while to get used to it, he knew, to find a new balance, but, God, how he wanted to get to know this side of her. "I'll always be there for you, Sam. Always."
Daniel brought Sam flowers when he visited after breakfast. He was pleased to see that she looked great, the color having fully returned to her face, heightened by a light sunburn. She actually looked quite happy, almost radiant, which surprised him a bit since typically she was rather cranky when stuck in the infirmary.
"Thank you, Daniel," she said as he handed Teal'c the flowers to place in a vase on the bedside table. "Those are beautiful."
"You look great, Sam. I'm so glad you're doing better," he said, sitting down on the side of her bed. He turned to Jack, who was sitting in the chair next to her, playing with his yo-yo. "You know, Jack, you've become a major hero in Feliti history. The stuff of legend."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, right."
Daniel pulled a pendant on a chain out of his pocket and held it out to Jack, teasingly.
"What's this?"
"You're Catholic, you tell me," he challenged with a smile. He'd always wondered just how devout a Catholic Jack was.
Sam caught a glimpse of it as it dangled from Jack's fingers. "Oh, no, not you, too, Daniel!"
She tried to snatch it from Jack, but he pulled it back before she could grab it.
Jack looked at it, still obviously confused. "What is it, Daniel?"
"It's a Saint George medallion. Saint George, patron saint of soldiers… who slew a dragon to rescue a princess…"
Jack frowned. "I'm no saint, Daniel. You know that."
"In the eyes of the Feliti, you freed them from a monster that terrorized them. That makes you a hero, O'Neill," Teal'c said.
Sam snorted.
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Daniel cocked his head to the side.
She made a face and gestured at Jack. "He tosses a grenade and gets to go down in history as the great hero, and I get to be remembered for eternity as the helpless damsel in distress."
"Well, he did save your life," Daniel pointed out.
"That's true," Jack said smugly.
"And you were in… distress…" Teal'c added, no doubt unhelpfully from Sam's point of view.
Sam sighed and tossed her hands up in defeat. "Fine. All of you. Ugh. I hate the Feliti and their giant sand slug anyway."
"I think Carter is jealous," Jack grinned.
"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.
"I am not!" Sam protested, even though Daniel knew it was true.
He laughed. "You forget, Sam, the whole reason the Feliti wanted to feed you to the belago in the first place was because you were viewed as an extraordinary woman, the conqueror of their gods… I don't think for a minute that they thought of you as a helpless damsel."
"Funny, but they neglected to mention their respect and admiration while they were busy poking me full of poison needles…"
"They only did that because they knew you'd kick their collective asses if they didn't," Jack remarked.
"I would have, too!" she said, and Daniel could just imagine her rage at being rendered so helpless.
"Well," Daniel said, stroking her arm absently, "The Feliti want to honor you both at a ceremony. They've issued formal invitations to everyone who was in the party that killed the belago, but I believe they wish to honor you two specifically."
"I think I have a prior engagement," Sam grumbled.
"I believe they will set the date at your convenience…," Teal'c said.
"I'll still have a prior engagement," Sam said. She glanced apologetically at Daniel and Teal'c. "Actually, guys, I have… something important to tell you."
Daniel sat up a bit straighter, wondering why she had gone so serious so suddenly.
Sam swallowed, looking directly at him. "Truth is, I'm tired of getting beat up by aliens. Earth is safe now, and I'm not needed for these diplomatic missions. Diplomacy is your thing, Daniel, technology is mine. And right now I have years of work waiting for me at Area 51. I've been offered a promotion that would make me head of R&D there, and I plan to accept it."
Daniel was stunned, but Teal'c appeared to be surprisingly… unsurprised.
Daniel looked at Jack to see if he had suspected this news, too, but Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Yeah, I'm leaving, too," he said.
"What?" Daniel asked in shock. "Where are you going?"
"Hammond is retiring. I'm going to take his place in D.C."
"Both of you?" Daniel shook his head in disbelief, then stood up and began to pace at the foot of Sam's bed. "I can't believe it." He couldn't imagine the SGC without Sam and Jack. His two best friends leaving… abandoning him.
"Will you finally explore your relationship together, then?" Teal'c asked, looking between Sam and Jack.
"Yes, we will, Teal'c," Sam said. "I'll be removed from Jack's direct chain of command, so it would be allowed."
Daniel froze, the real reason for their career moves becoming apparent. Right. Sam and Jack. Sam and Jack together. He let his breath out, shoulders relaxing. "Jack," he smiled, acknowledging Sam's use of the man's first name. "Well, good for you," he nodded. It was right. It was right for them. He slapped Jack on his back. "Good for you both. It's about time, really."
"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.
"But a long distance relationship…," Daniel said. "That can be difficult."
"We routinely commute light years for our day jobs, what's a few thousand miles?" Sam shrugged.
"And if the Feliti's giant sand slug can't keep us apart, nothing will," Jack said, grinning, his eyes locking with Sam's.
Daniel understood the truth of Jack's words. Nothing would keep them apart. Neither distance, nor any random, alien monster would ever stop them from coming to each other's rescue. St. George and his princess had nothing on Jack O'Neill and Sam Carter. And he hoped with all his heart that they might find a fairy tale ending and live happily ever after. It was no less than they deserved.