So, this is the first story I've written in a long, long, long time. All mistakes are my own as it has not been beta'd.
I find myself with this intense urge to re-watch every episode of Stargate whenever I have exams I should be studying for. Well, this is the result of a season 1- 3 re-watch. Set during the first three seasons across of a few of my favourite episodes that demonstrate a shift in the Sam/Jack relationship to me.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own this!
He had to admit, she was attractive. She wasn't his type. But somehow she was getting under his skin, and he found his thoughts wandering. Thoughts of soft lips on rough skin, hands moving through blond locks and various other things that were so far past what the Air Force deemed appropriate.
He'd noticed the little things first. The slight smirk on her face when she knew the answer to a problem, the overly-enthusiastic stretch of her hand toward a cup of blue jelly in the mess or the steely look of concentration as the made their way through enemy territory; her weapon poised and ready.
She was too young and far too ambitious, he told himself. He didn't know what else to say.
And yet he thought if he let himself, he could fall hard for this woman.
Her look of sheer horror had startled him when she'd turned around from the body of Seth, the Goau'ld hand device still linked to her pale fingers. The blue eyes were almost dull and unseeing, and once again he was struck at how young she was.
"Hail Dorothy," he'd said. He knew it didn't help. But he didn't know what else to say. She'd pushed past him and disappeared.
He found her later, standing back down by the wreckage of the rings.
"Have you ever regreted killing someone?" she'd asked, startling him. He hadn't realised she knew he was there.
"No, never," he'd answered, not quite believing himself but giving it regardless. "He was the enemy. You did your job, Carter."
His words had seemed brash, even to his ears. But this time it was all he could say to stop himself from reaching out and comforting her from the world.
She'd been so pissed. Her shoulders rigid, her mouth set in a thin line and her blue eyes were alight and blazing. They had been there for days, and tempers ran thin. It had been physically tough on all of them, but more so her.
He'd made the mistake of telling her to rest. Pissed-off Carter was not something he was used to dealing with.
Her hair was damp, ends curled slightly from the sweat. Her upper lip had beads of sweat glistening on her skin smudged with dirt, and for the first time he'd found himself wondering when he started looking at her so closely. His had gaze moved down, following the trail of dirt, sweat and skin down her neck, shoulders and kept going.
"Having a good look, Sir?" Her voice was most definitely pissed.
He'd jumped, the heat disgusing the blush that rose at being caught. Oh yeah, he was in trouble.
For the first time on Edora, he had truly questioned involving himself in the Stargate program. He had resigned himself to the fact he was never going home. Two days later, she had turned up.
It scared him how easy it was to ignore her, pretend like he wasn't happy to see her, even Teal'c and Daniel. For the first time he finds a valid reason to not pursue the idea of them. It was too easy for him to hurt her. And he was too accepting of it.
He had seen the dark circles under her eyes, remnants of three months with little sleep. The slight stain of her finger nails from making too much coffee. The sad look in her eye that she was desperately trying to hide. All for him.
Her words trailed off when she thought he was no longer listening. He turned and walked away, back toward his other life for the last time. He didn't know what to say to her. It was all he could do to keep himself from grabbing her tightly and never letting go.
"I told you not to come!" he had shouted, at them both. He couldn't tell her that he was desperate to keep her alive at all costs. That she had doomed herself to die with him aboard an Asgard ship. And the thought terrified him.
He didn't know when the change had happened. When he had started caring a little too much. Maybe it was three years of never ending threats and death. Maybe it was just her.
They'd fought the replicaters, and won. They'd made it again, and escaped through the Stargate. But somehow the fear of her dying had never left him after that moment.
A few hundred thousand light years from earth, on a planet where they had nothing to do but wait to dial home, he'd lie awake at night hoping to god if he ever lost her that he'd be there to go with her.
"Do you miss home?" she'd asked one night, coming to sit with him after another sleepless night.
He considered it for a moment, before answering softly. "I have everything I need right here."