Failsafe – a drabble
Two hours left.
Their eyes locked.
An unspoken possibility etched into their expressions, translating to something much more than they had ever really told each other.
Back room? A moment of satisfaction long denied?
Were they truly ready to 'give up'? Because doing that now would be more of a confession of failure than an admittance of 'feeling feelings'. Because if they did that, there would be no pretending they didn't want to. No more pretending it didn't faze them that they couldn't without consequences.
Five years of pretence and half-confessions beneath which seeped an undeniable and volatile attraction. Could they really allow their last moments on Earth (rather, their last moments on an asteroid drifting away from Earth) be limited and corralled by regulations which were pretty much moot at this point?
That's who we are.
It was conveyed in his eyes, the resigned acceptance there so familiar. They were the moral ones. And because of that moralistic trait that she was sure wasn't shared by every single SGC-ite (she'd noticed the way that one Major Tomlin and Captain Johansen acted –and was pretty sure that the storage closet on level 19 had been christened because of it), they were sitting here in their last hours still playing by the rules.
There was no way they would spend their last moments decimating the hell out of rules when those rules were the code they lived their lives by.
Because they wouldn't become less- stoop to that level of debauchery- when it would be the last act they led. The last conscious decision they made.
"Hammond will come." He said to the ceiling as he lay there by her feet, so close. Never close enough.
"I have every confidence." Daniel murmured from one of the pilot chairs.
Sam turned back to stare beyond Jack, her thoughts reluctantly accepting of what wouldn't happen between them. Ever. Their time had run out.
"Me too." She said, feeling his eyes skim her features as she agreed with him.
She looked down as she felt a pressure on her ankle, his fingers curved there, hidden in shadow from the others.
"As am I." Teal'c intoned, but she was beyond listening.
His touch grounded her and gave her...something essential at that moment. Not quite acceptance of their current predicament and their oncoming demise and the inaction they were exhibiting when it came to their last moments alive, but…maybe a grudging comprehension instead. Anything sexual would be benign at this point –despite how she wished she could experience that long suppressed fantasy. And oddly enough, this almost touch gave her a moment of clarity. Maybe just this acknowledgement of what they had and what they meant to each other would be all that was necessary.
Because it spoke completely of who they were.
Words weren't needed to communicate. And inaction didn't necessarily mean a lack of desire. This touch was more. A comfort and a recognition without any true vocalisation.
Somehow, it was enough…
.fin.