Still
Author: Rysler (strmscalmaol.com)
Rating: PG
Pairings: Sam/Janet, established relationship
Category: Angst, Vignette
Date: 06/18/04
Website: MGM owns them. I just have the calendar. And a poster.
Archive: Sure, just let me know.
Summary: Sam's workaholic lifestyle causes tension with Cassandra and Janet.
Notes: Written for she who introduced me to the song. Sorry it's a little late.
I see you averting your glances.
I see you cheering on the war.
I see you ignoring your children
And I love you, still.

- Alanis Morissette
"I don't need you." Cassandra's voice was harsh, brittle with anger, as she looked away. She was trying to speak with confidence, but her voice belied her attempts not to care. "You don't take care of me. I bet you hung out with me when I was a bomb just because you were lonely." The taste of cruelty bolstered Cassandra, and she turned to face her target. "Yeah, well, there's a reason you're lonely."

Sam flinched.

Cassandra saw it, and encouraged that Sam felt bad--felt anything, in regards to her, chose her words purposely. "I don't need you. I already have a mother." With that final gust of anger, she turned and ran out of the room, before Sam could see her cry.

Sam dimly listened to the pounding footsteps on the staircase, and then flinched again at the sound of a door slamming. She exhaled slowly, and then walked into the kitchen.

Janet, bent over the stove sprinkling oregano into a small pot, looked over and smiled at Sam. "Welcome home."

Sam settled into a chair at the kitchen table, and looked down at her hands. "I guess you heard that."

"Her birthday was yesterday, Sam." Janet's tone was calm and rational, neither chiding nor sympathetic.

"I was--" Sam paused, knitting her fingers together. She'd been working, but it hadn't been important work, not really. Not saving-the-world kind of stuff. Still, she finished the project before she showered, or ate, or slept... or came home. Sam could have made it to the house for Cassandra's birthday, but she didn't. In truth, she didn't even think about it. The excuses died in her throat.

Sam had come home to find Cassandra sullenly watching television with her social studies book open in her lap. "Hey, kiddo. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything for your birthday yet. How about a blank check?" She gave the teenager an apologetic, cheeky smile. Then Cassandra had turned on her.

Janet set down her spices and walked over to Sam, placing her hands on the soldier's shoulders. "Work comes first."

Sam could only nod.

"And saving the world comes first." Janet stroked the back of Sam's neck. "And SG1...They come first, too."

Sam was silent.

Janet's voice, usually rich and deep, rasped with faint anguish that mirrored her daughter's. "Sam. Why do you even bother coming h--"

Sam twisted in the chair, grabbing Janet's wrists. "Because you're everything I'm not." She implored Janet with a look of such love and need that a rush of heat went through the smaller woman. In that moment, Janet knew two things--She would do anything for that look, and Sam would never give it to anyone else.

She would never possess Sam. Sam would remain untamed. Janet knew others had attempted to domesticate Sam and failed. Jacob. Jack. She knew they had acted from the same motivation she did--desperation. They were always on the brink of losing their beloved to stray gunfire, or a shuttle crash, or that damned motorcycle.

Janet would never have Sam, not really. But that look was enough. It had to be. No matter how much Janet hurt, no matter much guilt she manipulated in her lover, Samantha Carter would never change. Janet knew all this, and loved her, still.

Sam bent her head to press kisses to Janet's hands. "I want to come home to you."

"I'll be here, waiting." Janet slipped her hands free and cupped the woman's face, tilting it upward, brushing away stray tears with her long fingers. "Always."

They kissed, and Sam, tasting Janet's lips against hers, wondered why she ever left at all.