Disclaimer: Okay, so I don't own Stargate SG-1, or anything like it (sadly). I didn't invent the characters; just enjoy the manipulation! Frankly if I can't have control over my own life, why should anyone else? I am not making any money out of this, written purely for my own entertainment. But if you like, let me know? Be warned, I am a major J/S shipper!
Recovery Time – by Jack's Biro (I figure he always has it with him, and who wouldn't want to be?)
"Atishoo!"
Sniffle.
Its official: I am not well, thought Sam.
"I blame Daniel," she said aloud to her living room at large.
And then sneezed again.
Oh, Daniel was gonna pay for this. Big Time.
He was the one to insist they recce P3X-939 after all.
Ancient ruins, he said. Roman Architecture, reminiscent of Pompeii, he said. Chance of a lifetime, he said.
Yadda, yadda, yadda.
So they'd gone. And the ruins had been, well, in ruins. No sign of life in the immediate area and the UAV hadn't found any
indications of a population either. Well, no people anyway. A lot of the temple, dedicated to Aphrodite according to Daniel,
was covered in tiny purple flowers. Calls from the forest nearby sounded like a dog, or wolf, yapping to Sam, but she was no
zoologist.
Daniel had set to with his digital camera, taking pictures, filming away to his heart's content. Sam liked mosaics, yes, but there was only so many little bits of pottery you could look at before it all got a bit, well, soporific for her.
So there they were, Daniel declaring himself thrilled, Teal'c looking impassive (no change there then), and Jack, the Colonel, the Colonel she told herself, the Colonel? Well, he'd taken himself off to "patrol".
Sam hadn't been thrilled. Her bike needed minor tinkering with, she had a book to finish off and not least, Janet had planned to come over that evening for a girl's night in. Cassie was away on a school trip and by happy coincidence both Janet and Sam had leave owing, and opportunity to take it. It was perfect, they had both agreed, and the evening had been booked for about a month in their respective diaries. An old movie, a bottle or three of wine, takeout and girltalk. They both agreed it was needed, deserved even.
So, it was only when Daniel announced they had to go to –939 right now that Sam could see her evening disappearing off into the long grass.
However, he seemed to gather all he needed in quite a reasonable time in the end. Sam surreptitiously looked at the watch.
If we debrief for an hour or less and I have the quickest shower known to woman, she calculated, I could still make it.
They headed back through the gate, all present and correct.
And it all went wrong.
For Sam anyway.
The minute she hit the ramp, she felt like death warmed up. Her eyes and nose had started to stream, a monster headache kicked in and she felt nauseous. Janet had frog-marched her to the infirmary, taken one look at her and insisted she be stood down immediately.
Two hours later, after all the test results had come back, Janet had declared Sam non-contagious, and deemed her okay enough to drive herself home – and to stay there till the weekend was over. General Hammond concurred, which only confirmed to Sam how rough she must look.
So, SG-1 had been stood down. Daniel had taken off with SG-12; Inca ruins this time. Teal'c was with Bra'tac and the rebel Ja'ffa doing goodness knew what. And Jack? Sam stopped herself and corrected her mind, The Colonel, thank you very much madam she told herself, was probably off at his cabin fishing.
While here I sit alone, full of cold, or flu, or whatever... blowing my nose raw and looking terrible. On a Friday night.
Friday night.
She sighed. Date night, or at least it was for somebody else. Cassie usually had a date on a Friday, how come she can manage a social life and I can't? Sam asked herself, I'm a single, successful intelligent woman. And I look like hell!
"Oh well, at least I can catch up with the TV," she said to herself, reaching for the remote. Once again she was grateful she's paid up for the all-singing-all-dancing satellite box that stored her favourite programmes.
So, surrounded by boxes of tissues, curled up on her sofa in her pyjamas, Major Samantha Carter settled down to watch the last half dozen episodes of NCIS.
The second episode in, just as the lead character was explaining some gruesome details to his team, the doorbell rang.
"No! Oh for crying out loud!" Sam stopped the programme and shrugged into her dressing gown as she made her way to the door.
"Hello?" She called to the door, hoping that when whoever it damn well was saw how sick she was they'd just go away and leave her in peace.
"Carter? You well enough for a visitor bearing gifts?" the familiar voice came through the letterbox.
"Sir!" Sam dropped to her knees and the open aperture to find herself eyeball to eyeball with her C.O.
"Yeah, that'd be me. Listen, you gonna let me in or do we have some weird kinda quarantine thing happening here?"
"No! Sir, sorry! Just give me a second!" Sam jumped up and flung the door open.
"Hey Carter. Nice PJs" Jack grinned at her as she ushered him in the door.
"Er, thanks. I wasn't exactly expecting company." Sam hurriedly retied her dressing gown around her. Though why she felt
so bashful round him was embarrassing; 'the man has seen you in less than this!' she told herself.
"So I see" another mischievous grin.
"Well, can I get you something sir? Coffee? I don't have any beer, sorry"
"Ah! Carter – you're not well! For crying out loud woman, go back to what you were doing – as long as it wasn't work!"
"No, sir, it wasn't working – no, really I wasn't" this because of the derisive snort from the Colonel, "I was actually catching up on my TV series." There, she thought, that shows him I can have down time too!
"Hmmm, well, knowing you its probably on the Discovery Channel and mindbogglingly clever"
"No, NCIS actually"
"Who? Carter, you work for the air force, don't tell me you watch it when you get home too?"
"I happen to find it really interesting, sir!"
"Well, you may be in the minority there Carter"
"If so, it's the discerning one sir" and with that she sneezed heavily.
"Gee, stay back Carter! Right, back to your sofa with you ill woman, and I'll highjack your kitchen"
"My kitchen?"
"Ah! No questions!" and with that he took her hand, led her back to the sofa and sat her down. Still holding her hand he took up her TV remote in his other hand and gave it to her. Then he smiled broadly and disappeared into her kitchen.
Sam sat, slightly stunned at his behaviour and shook her head.
So, walk into my house, order me about and then commandeer my kitchen? Hmmm, something is wrong with this picture, she thought. However when you feel this lousy just go with it girl, she told herself and settled again in front of the tv.
Thoroughly submerged in the plot of the programme, she didn't even notice when Jack entered the room again with a loaded tray, which he put on her lap.
"Carter, drag yourself away from NBA and eat!"
"NCIS sir"
"I knew that. Scoot over willya? You need the whole couch?" He picked her feet up and put them on the floor, then sat down at the other end of her couch.
"Sir, this is very kind, but really, I'm not feeling that hungry…"
"No arguments. Eat!"
She sighed theatrically and picked up her spoon. 'Chicken soup?' she thought after the first tentative sip. When did the Colonel get so aware of the Chicken soup is good for a cold theory? She looked up and gestured with her spoon,
"Are you trying to feed me better sir?"
"Not really, the Doc just said that someone should be making sure you're taking care of yourself"
"Ah, right" and Sam bent to eating again, with half an eye to the TV.
Jack took advantage of her absorption in this to let his mind wander, whilst taking full chance to watch her without her noticing. Hopefully.
Janet, the doc, had kinda said what he told Sam she had. Well, nearly. Oh, be honest Jack, he told himself. What the Dr had said was "There goes my and Sam's girl's night in". So, figuring her to be on her own, he'd left early, and swung by the market on the way home for food as an excuse for dropping in and seeing Sam.
She had looked pretty sick coming back from the mission, and he'd been worried about her, though obviously he couldn't voice his total concern, being her C.O. and all.
How was it, he thought, sneaking a look at Sam as she sat next to him, that she could have such an effect on him? Even looking like she did now – bedhead hair, red nose, pale as snow… obviously ill in other words, yet still able to knock him off his feet. And make him nervous around her. First date kinda nervous.
Which was ridiculous, 'cause they'd never dated.
And weren't likely to either.
Ever.
Well, not as long as he was her C.O., she was his trusted Second In Command and the whole damn silly stupid frustrating annoying gonna-blast-'em-with-a-staff-weapon regs about "fraternisation" existed.
Doh.
And anyway Jack, he told himself, hello? Reality check? Age diff? Not that he thought it would matter much, not to him, not really. But maybe just a little bit, if he was being honest with himself. And his track record with the opposite sex hadn't been spotless; but then again he'd never claimed to be a saint, just human. On the other hand, Sam was no blushing innocent in that department – oh, surely not? She'd been engaged to Jonas, and it was Daniel who'd told him about that Tollan guy, Narim? Grrr. Narim, thought Jack, silently clenching his teeth. The things he found out from Daniel when he was under the influence of alcohol were priceless, and this was one of them. Daniel had, apropos of nothing, just launched into "Oh, and I knew there was something I meant to tell you". Which turned out to be the story of walking in on Narim and Sam kissing in the control room just before the Tollan had been "rescued" by the Nox. Daniel had blathered on "Not making out, but it wasn't a chaste thing either, boy, were they going for it!" and then seen the look on Jack's face and moved the subject on, quickly.
Jack didn't blame the Tollan jerk at all really, because, lets face it, Sam was gorgeous. Check, is gorgeous. And half the base – the male half – knew it, even if she hadn't realised. Little courtesies not often observed were shown to her. A door held open, a lift held, smiles of greeting, admiring stares, these seemed not to enter her mind at all. Oh, she was polite to a fault, always a "thank you" and if her admirers were lucky, one of her megawatt smiles. Jack had been changing in the locker room when the SG-3 marines had come back from a mission and over heard their conversation.
"Man, did you see the Major in the Control Room?"
"Which one?"
"Ah, c'mon! Carter – like you don't know who I'm talking about!"
"Yeah man, you've been jonesing on her since you arrived!"
"She's…"
And after that the conversation had gone downhill. Jack had felt like walking round the corner and punching the one guy who went into way to much detail what he'd like to do to Sam if he ever got his hands on her, but satisfied himself with coughing loudly and slamming his locker door shut. The next time he saw the Marines, he's given them all the look that would not only kill but also cause the worst kinda pain before hand. They got the message, and if they didn't, well, actions spoke louder than words.
It wasn't that Sam couldn't look after herself, Level 4 Hand to Hand Combat qualified and handy with a P-90 true, he just hoped that she knew that he, Daniel and Teal'c would batter anyone who stepped out of line with her. Though Daniel and Teal'c's relationship with Sam was brotherly in nature, Jack was at least honest enough with himself to admit his feelings for her were not. At all.
The clatter of spoon on ceramic roused him from these thoughts.
"Sir, thanks for that – seems I was hungry after all" Sam was wiping her mouth on the kitchen towel he'd laid on the tray for her.
She stood up, and went a very pale colour that Jack didn't like at all.
"Hey, where you going?"
"Water, need a drink."
"Yeah, well, I can get that for you!"
"Sir, I'm fine!"
"So why the swaying? Is that normal for 'fine'"?
"Don't fuss si—" she started to say and then passed out. Luckily she fell backwards, back onto the sofa, but also halfway into his arms, as he'd jumped up as soon as he saw her eyelids start to flutter.
"Carter? Er, Sam?" Jack cradled the unconscious woman in his arms. This was not good. He laid her on the couch and felt for a pulse and at her forehead.
"Damn, you're burning up" this information decided him and he reached for his phone.
"Janet? Yeah, hi, its, well, yes, it is Col. O'Neill. Listen I'm fine, but I'm visiting with Sam and she's just passed out on me. Can you come over?"
Janet's voice came down the phone.
"Well, she's definitely got a temperature doc, but her pulse is a bit quick – could you, oh, you're coming over now, well, see you in a few then"
Janet wasted no time. Within ten minutes she was banging on the door, and when Jack opened it, she marched straight in and to Sam's side.
"So, what happened?" she demanded.
"She ate, we were talking and watching TV, she stood up and then she passed out"
"Hmmmmm," Janet bent over her friend and took her temperature and the like.
A few minutes passed.
"Er, Doc?"
"Shush" Janet was in no mood to be interrupted. While she dealt with Sam's symptoms, her mind was thinking, "So, Jack just "popped in" did he? Sam never mentioned that before!"
Finally she turned to the tall man hovering worriedly on the sidelines.
"Doc?"
"Well, she's running a high temperature, but that's quite normal for the flu."
"Does she need to go to the infirmary?"
"No, I don't think so. I'll give her a broad spectrum antibiotic shot and leave her some tablets for when she wakes up."
"Oh-kay, you're the doctor."
"Yes, I am, Colonel. Now, if you could just carry Sam through to her bed, I think she'll be more comfortable there when she does come round" Janet busied herself with her bag, hiding her smile as she did so. Here was a perfectly legitimate reason for the Colonel to sweep Sam off her feet, even if she was totally unaware of it at the time!
"Sure" and with that Jack gently slid the unconscious Sam into his arms and carried her out of the living room.
Janet smiled after him. 'So, you know where things are do you Colonel?' she mused, and then followed him through.
Sam lay on her bed, shivering and delirious.
Janet turned to Jack.
"Colonel, would you wait in the living room while I do a proper exam please?"
"Oh! Yeah, no problem" and he reluctantly left the room.
Janet unwrapped Sam from the cocoon of her dressing gown and woman-handled her under the duvet. After she had administered the antibiotic shot, she fetched a bowl of tepid water from the kitchen and returned to her friend, bathing her forehead in order to cool her down further. For nearly an hour Janet sat, listening to Sam's breathing, checking her lungs weren't filling with liquid, re-taking her temperature and bathing her forehead. Sam stopped shivering and her temperature dropped slightly as the medication kicked in.
All through this Janet was aware of the sound of pacing, up and down the corridor outside the room, just barely on the edge of hearing, but there all the same.
As Sam cooled and calmed down, Janet went to the door and softly called "Colonel, you can come back in now if you like?"
He was there like a shot.
"Well, Doc?"
"Her temperature is down, and the antibiotics seem to be working now. Could you find a jug and glass for some water, she'll need to be kept re-hydrated when she comes round."
"Comes round!"
"Wakes up, I mean. Don't worry Colonel, she'll be fine. I'm not convinced it's flu, but I'm not sure what it is really. Still, I've taken some more blood and will run some more tests."
"Okay, now what?"
"I have to go and run tests on this," she said indicating the blood sample "and then I'll come back and check on her later."
"But she shouldn't be left on her own?"
"Not really, and I hate to ask Colonel, I'm sure you have plans…"
"No! No, no plans, not for tonight."
"Well, if you don't mind?"
"No problem at all, I'd be happy to."
"Right! Well, I'll be off and be back later – about 11pm I'm afraid. If you could just keep bathing her forehead and
checking her temp, that'll be fine. If you get concerned about her, you must ring me – immediately – is that clear?"
"Crystal Doc"
"Okay, well, see you later Colonel" and with that Janet packed up her bag and bid him goodnight.
Jack heard the front door close. He stood up, stretched and, after checking Sam was sleeping peacefully, went and made himself a strong coffee. He figured if he was going to pull and all nighter – and he didn't intend leaving her side until he was dragged away – he was going to need all the help he could get.
Settling himself again in the comfy chair by Sam's bed, he put his phone on silent and then instantly wished he'd picked a book up on the way back from fetching the coffee. He didn't like to leave Sam again so soon, so he was at the mercy of her nightstand.
Reaching out he found two books on physics – doesn't the woman ever stop working? "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance", obviously well read, and – what? Jane Austen? Jack was surprised. Sam Carter, a closet romantic? Well, even he'd heard of the author, even if it was by default – his tv had got stuck on a channel showing an adaptation of the very book he held in his hands.
Oh well, he might understand it better than the rest, he thought, settling down again.
A little later, having taken time to bathe Sam's forehead on a regular basis – after all he had promised Janet he would – he was struggling to understand the incredibly formal language but thought he might just have the plot.
"Jack?" a whisper from his right side caught his attention.
He dropped the book on the arm of his chair and knelt by the bed. Sam was lying on her side, eyes still feverish bright but wide open.
"Hey Carter" he said softly.
"You're reading my book" Sam was hoarse.
"Uh-huh. Carter?"
"Sam. It's Sam."
"Okay Sam, well, I think you ought to drink some water." And he proffered the glass, which Sam sipped from.
"Thanks", exhausted by the effort, Sam laid back down on the pillow.
Jack laid his hand on her forehead, trying to gauge her temperature.
"Nice"
"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, "Well, if you say so. You do feel cooler", and reached for the thermometer that Janet had left them.
Sam opened her mouth for the instrument and lay there giving Jack a stupid smile. Jack returned with one of his own.
"So," he said, after removing the instrument and waving it about in what he hoped was a professional fashion "seems you're cooling down after all. Well done Major, fever broken."
"Hmmm" Sam had closed her eyes "Shame."
"Sam?" What did she mean by that?
"What?" Sam was drifting gently to sleep.
"Why is it a shame – you've broken your fever" She's obviously delirious, he thought, standing up and reaching for the book again.
"Shame, 'cause you're so hot, sir" she sighed.
"What!" Jack whipped round to look at her, sending the book he held flying, 'Oh, I so didn't see that comin'!' "Sam?"
But Sam was asleep.
For the time being anyway.
Jack watched her sleep, trying to fool himself that he was still reading.
He'd just got back from fetching himself another coffee when he saw she was awake again.
"Hey, how are you feeling now?"
"Tired. Wanna talk?"
"You have to rest – Janet's orders"
"Napoleonic"
"Power monger. Yeah, her. So, c'mon, sleep again. Shhh" he tried to hush her back to sleep.
But the woman lying prone in the bed next to him was having none of it.
"No! Want to talk. Bored of sleep."
"Woah, Sam, you are ill, aren't you? Well, okay, for a while. Whatdya wanna talk about then?"
"My book. Why are you reading that one?"
"Because I couldn't understand the other three! You like this one?"
"Yes, one of my favourites. Drink please?" Sam sipped at the offered glass.
"Right, okay now?"
"Better thanks"
"So, this book, does anything actually happen in it? 'Cause I'm getting lots of polite conversation but no action – any chance of a swordfight?"
Sam smiled at him – I wish she wouldn't do that, Jack thought, she has no idea what it does to me.
"No, sir, just lots of polite conversation and meaningful looks. And a very romantic letter at the end which makes everything perfect." She yawned "Just like us."
"What!"
"Apart from the letter, obviously"
And Sam was asleep again.
Jack sat, stunned again, and yet unable to respond. Which was probably just as well, because he had no idea what to say to her!
His phone shook on the nightstand. He picked it up and took it to the kitchen to answer it.
It was Janet.
"Colonel, how's the patient?"
"Hey Doc. Better, I think. Her temp is down, I've got her to drink some water and she keeps wanting to talk"
"About what?"
"Uh, just stuff. So, what did the test results tell you?"
"I have to run some more in the morning, so I'll come by and stay with Sam now, you'll be wanting to sleep?"
"Nothing serious in those test results I hope?"
"No, nothing to worry about, I think it's an allergic reaction, but the meds I gave her will combat the effects. So, I'll be over there in about 45 mins, Colonel, so…"
"Doc, no worries, we're, Sam's fine, so am I, you stay at home tonight and I'll catnap on the sofa. If Sam needs me I'll be in shouting distance"
"Hmmmm, well, I can't deny that does sound like a good idea Colonel…." Janet was torn. She was desperately tired and it was midnight. Part of her was wondering if the Colonel staying at Sam's house was entirely prudent, but if he was going to sleep on the couch?
"Doc, I promise to behave myself! If Sam gets sick again I also promise to call and you can drop by tomorrow morning like you planned. Surely that's all this calls for?" C'mon, c'mon, he thought, don't make me leave this all too pleasant assignment!
"Okay Colonel, if you promise me you'll behave, I believe you – against my better judgement! I'll swing by tomorrow about 10am – see you then?"
"Right Doc – see you then – night."
"Night Colonel"
Jack flipped his phone shut and found himself grinning. Right, he thought, back to the patient…
Settling himself again in the chair, he reached for the rug that Sam had thrown over the bottom of her bed. He took his shoes off, and then heard a giggle.
"Sam? You awake again?"
"You can come in if you like – plenty of room" she giggled again and patted the other side of the bed.
Woah-kay! Where had this come from!
"Nah" Jack replied, trying to sound nonchalant "I'm fine here"
"You turning me down?"
"No, just don't want you to witness my bedhead"
More giggling "You're so funny!"
"So I've been told. Er, this wouldn't count as 'polite conversation' would it?"
"For us? I guess so. Why – you want a meaningful look?" Sam fluttered her eyelashes at him.
"Well, if you feel up to it…" Am I flirting with her?
"C'mon then, you'll have to come a bit closer though, it's dark in here" Sam raised herself up on one elbow and shook her hair out. The bedside lamp shone from behind her, giving Jack the impression of a halo around her head.
He slid onto the floor from the chair, "Close enough for you?" he asked, nervously.
"For now" Sam said "So – ready?"
"For this meaningful look? Sure." Am so not ready, he told himself, but bring it on anyway!
"'Kay – here you go then" Sam looked him dead in the eye, then dropped her gaze to the carpet.
Jack thought she had changed her mind until she raised her head and eyes back to him and smiled – scrub that – beamed at him.
Jack felt the breath he had been holding in leave his lungs. I should look away now, c'mon Jack, look away, don't be even thinking of what you're thinking here! Oh my God, he thought, what am I doing!
Their eyes continued to meet.
Sam looking at Jack, Jack looking at Sam – neither moving or saying a word.
And then, just as Jack thought that if he didn't kiss her right this second he was going to die, Sam winked at him and collapsed back into sleep.
That's getting to be a convenient escape route! Jack thought, but he was unable to tear his gaze away from her sleeping form for nearly a quarter hour.
He finally got back in the chair, wrapped the rug around him and drifted off into confusing dreams.
To be woken later by someone tickling his feet.
"Ah!" his feet shot straight in the air, "So awake now!"
Sam was sitting up in bed, wrapped up in her duvet holding out the book he'd been trying to read, and grinning at him.
"Sam – for crying out loud woman!"
"Read"
"Read what?"
"Read the letter part" and she pressed the novel into his unprotesting hands.
Jack stood up, and perched on the edge of the mattress by her, trying to concentrate on the words in the letter that, according to the woman next to him, made "everything perfect". He was aware of her shifting back on the bed, curling up around her pillow and watching him.
He read.
"See?" she asked when he put the book down.
"See what?"
"That everything's okay between them now. He walks her home and they talk, get everything straight, and then he marries her" she sighed heavily, "its my favourite part"
"The letter?"
"Uh-huh. See, he's been so distant to her, he was hurt by what happened and even though he loves her he's too proud to see that she's the only woman who could ever be right for him…."
"Too proud?" Oh boy O'Neill, this is dangerous ground!
"Hmmm, he can't see she still loves him but she does, and the letter he writes her makes it all possible." Sam yawned, "Tired now, sleep."
"Yes, tired too now you mention it. You sleep Sam" Jack stood up and turned the duvet over for her so she would have the
cool cotton against her.
She smiled sleepily at him and then closed her eyes.
Day dawned, and Sam awoke.
Feeling tired but, hey, way better. A definite improvement she thought.
Carefully she rose, finding her legs a bit wobbly beneath her, and made her way to the shower. When she'd finished she dressed in jeans and a comfy sweater.
As she dressed she realised she was hungry, when had she last eaten? Okay, if she couldn't remember, it was time to eat – big time! She hurried through to her kitchen, suddenly ravenous for toast. And cereal. And orange juice. And coffee. She felt so much better that she flicked on the radio in the room and started to sing.
So it was a bit of a surprise to find Jack sitting on her deck outside her kitchen, sipping coffee.
"Sir?"
"Morning Carter. Always start the day with a song do you?"
Well, this isn't embarrassing is it? She thought. No blushing! She told herself.
"Mostly, yes, actually sir"
"Well, you're obviously feeling better."
"I am. Not 100, but on the way thank you"
"You look good. Better. You look better, this morning." Shut up Jack!
"Thank you, sir. Er, were you here all night?" Good heavens, what happened!
"I was. Janet came by when you fainted on me, gave you a shot of something unpronounceable and left you the tablets by your sink. She took some blood too, to run some more tests with I think"
"Oh. Okay. Woah!" Sam suddenly had a rush of blood to her head and reached out for the deck handrail to steady herself.
"Carter- steady!" Jack stood up and rushed to her side, just in case she needed catching again.
Sam managed to brace herself against the rail, but not before Jack had his arm round her waist.
This feels an unreasonably nice place to be, she thought as her head span around her.
"I think, I… er, I think I need…"
"To sit down, yes, I was already ahead of you there, Sam"
He helped her back into her house and sat her down at the dining table.
"Just as well Janet's coming over," he said as he fetched Sam a glass of water and the meds Janet had left her.
"I'm sorry" Sam weakly said to him as he passed her the water and tablets
"Sorry for what?"
"For being so damn helpless" Sam knocked back the tablet with half the glass of water.
"You didn't ask to be ill now did you?"
"No."
"Its not a bad thing to have to ask for help y'know"
"I know." Sam's voice was getting quieter and quieter through this exchange.
"And to be honest – can I be honest?"
"Sure."
"It was hardly a hardship, helping you out." Jack felt his face getting red, how had he got this brave?
"No?" Really?
"Well, I didn't have anything planned to do last night – and if I did I would have cancelled it." Open mouth, insert foot O'Neill!
"You would?" Why is he telling me this? She thought.
"Sure. A friend in need, yadda yadda"
"Yadda yadda?"
"Is a friend indeed?" Jack stressed the last word, trying to make light of it by sounding like Teal'c.
"Oh. Well, thank you anyway sir. I appreciate it"
"No problem Carter. Happy to help. It was kinda interesting in a way"
"Watching me be ill!" the man is definitely odd at times thought Sam.
"No, listening to you! You get really talkative when you have a fever you know?"
"No? Oh – did I, what did… do I need to apologise?" What did I say! Did I tell him how I feel about him? Do I need to apply for a transfer?
"Well…" Jack pretended to muse; teasing her was such good fun! "You certainly get insistent, I'll say that for you! But no need to apologise, no, so don't worry!"
"That's good, sir" Thank goodness!
"So, feeling up to eating?"
"I think I could manage something plain"
"Toast it is – coffee is on already" Jack stood up and made Sam a round of toast and poured her a cup of coffee.
Sam watched him move around her kitchen, making himself at home. It was pleasant to see him like this, ruffled hair, bare feet, okay, so he needed a shave, but she could live with that.
Jack watched Sam nibble at her toast and sip her coffee. This was pleasant, he thought, I could get used to this. Sharing breakfast with Sam, with her weekend hair – when she didn't blow dry it, he'd noticed it went kinda curly at the ends – and bare feet with painted toenails? Sam Carter painted her toenails? He'd not noticed that before, but there wasn't a lot of opportunity for walking about barefoot in their jobs to be fair.
Sam finished her toast and coffee, "Thanks sir that was lovely. I feel a lot better for that."
Jack took her plate, refilled her mug and, regretfully, picked up his jacket.
"Pleased to hear it"
"You going?" So soon? She thought
"Much as I enjoy hanging out with you, I really have some errands to run! Besides, I feel in need of a shower, shave and change of clothes!"
"Oh, yes, of course you do. Well, thank you for staying with me, sir. I guess I'll see you?" Monday? It seemed a long lonely weekend stretched in front of her.
"Janet's coming over soon you know? To check you're feeling better?"
"Oh, okay."
"But, if you can stand the company?"
"Sorry?"
"I could come by later? If you like?" Please say yes, please!
"Well, if you're not busy, that would be good, actually, but if you have stuff to do?" And all of a sudden, hello interesting Saturday!
"Just a few chores, not much. Should I call you?"
"Yes! I mean, sure, I promise not to pass out on you this time though sir"
"Oh, I don't know, I kinda enjoyed that bit…" Jack winked at her as he headed for the door, happy now that he knew he would see her later. "And, Carter?"
"Yes?"
"Mail for you – propped up by the coffee machine!" and the door closed behind him.
Sam went to see what had come for her. It was unusual for her to receive much by traditional post, the occasional postcard from a friend on vacation, junk mail, but little else.
So it was with some surprise that she found it wasn't what she was expecting at all.
Propped up against the coffee machine were two folded sheets of paper, sealed with – was that candle wax? And pressed down with what would appear to be the end of a pair of dogtags?
She turned it over. It was addressed to "Miss S.C."
Sam took it back to the kitchen table and sat down.
She broke the seal and unfolded the pages.
It read:
"Oh for crying out loud! I have no idea what to write here! I wanted to try, but I don't know where to start!
So I guess I'll just say what I have to say – or should that be write what I want to write? Anyway, I'll just start and see how I go.
Sam, and I do call you "Sam" y'know? Okay, so most of the time it's in my head, so unspoken, but it is your name and we're not at work all the time are we?
So, Sam. You said, last night, that all we have is polite conversation and meaningful looks – and boy! did you lay a meaningful look on me! Can I just say it blew me away? Well, when you threw me that look and I read that part of the book you insisted upon, I just knew I was gonna have to write this letter.
Now, I hate to disagree with you, but I don't think all we ever have is "polite" conversation – sometimes I'm mad at you, sometimes you're mad at me. I know that. On occasion I feel the air is so thick between us that I'm gonna need to get a staff weapon to cut through it but we always seem to get stuck there. No follow through. It's a bad habit I have when I play golf.
And I don't want it to be a bad habit within our friendship or whatever "this" can be filed under.
'Cause I think that this is more than that, but I'm not sure about how you feel about it. I mean, you are my friend, 100 so, and I hope I'm yours. And we've got the whole "comrades in arms" thing working for us I guess. You watch my six, I watch yours. Which, in my case, is a far more enjoyable experience than I think it should be, being your C.O. and all.
Which brings us to what Daniel would doubtless call the crux of the matter. I'm your C.O., you're my 2inC. We see each other more than our families do. Which wouldn't be difficult in my case, y'know? Well, you do. We know stuff about each other that no one else does. "Carter 101" would be a cinch for me – do you think the Academy has a certificate for that? They should do. It's the one exam I would nail because I know you. Really know you in practically every sense but one, and crossing that one off the list would lead to court-martial or at least serious reassignment.
Because not only do I know you, like you and trust you implicitly, I love you Sam.
I never thought I'd want to say that to anyone ever again after Charlie died. The love I thought I shared with Sara died with our son and I wrote myself off after that. After I was recalled for a second time to what has become the SGC, I never thought it would mean that I'd find anything or anyone who would make me feel alive again like you do.
There, I've said it. Well, written it down, and that's scary enough for me.
You see, you walked in that briefing room and it was a shot of adrenaline to me, a shot I still get every time I see you, whether you know it or not. I try to deal with it and I guess I must be doing a good job cause no one's hauled me up for it though sometimes I think, I hope, that you notice even if you don't say anything.
As for you, well, where do I start? Well, I figure you're going to get embarrassed anyway so I guess I'll just jump in at the deep end. Sam, whether you like it of not, you're gorgeous – inside and out. Your smile, I think, is the best attribute you have; it lights up a room, a planet even, or at least it does for me. When you're down or just not very happy, you wonder why I fool around so much? To have you smile. And your dedication to the job? I've never known anyone like it. Your concentration levels are scary. In a good way I mean. Let's face it, no one but you could have got me home from Edora, no one else is as smart as you are. Which makes the whole "you not realising how gorgeous you are" thing just confusing for me. I remember reading or hearing the phrase "Complete lack of vanity" and it kinda reminds me of you. That's not to say you don't always look good, cause you do, but you don't fuss with your appearance. Which is kinda refreshing to see. So, you don't get to dress up much, I know. Did I ever say I like you in the green BDUs best? Probably not. And, you know I just have to comment on that Shavadai dress again! Woah, and other impressive sounding exclamations! Hell, I know you can' t go pounding across an alien planet in that outfit, but I wish you'd wear something like it again. Only without the headdress thing.
So, I'm running out of paper here – every other piece on your desk is filled with weird looking notations and stuff, so I'll just say that you were, interesting with your line of conversation last night. Don't worry, you didn't say anything too embarrassing, but you weren't exactly yourself so I suppose that sort of excuses you. So, shutting up now. Just believe me when I say that everything, repeat, everything in this letter? I mean it."
It was signed "JoN".
Sam sat, senses reeling and she knew it wasn't just the remnants of the fever.
As she sat, trying to process the words on the paper in front of her, the doorbell rang.
She opened the door to find Janet standing on the doorstep, bag in hand.
"Hey Sam! You're looking better!"
"Hi Janet, come on in."
Janet walked through to the living room and pulled the curtains.
"Right, lets have a proper look at you"
After the examination, Sam pulled her sweater back on.
"Well?"
"Well, I'd like you to rest until at least Monday, and then you can come by the infirmary again for another check up, just to make sure"
"Monday? Janet, it's only a bad cold, I'll be fine!"
"No, it wasn't Sam. It was an allergic reaction to those tiny purple flowers you bumped into on that last mission."
"Really?"
"Really. I've been watching Daniel's footage and you can clearly see that you are reacting – red eyes, flushed skin tone, sluggish movements, classic symptoms"
"Oh, really Janet, you make me sound like a lab rat!"
"Sam, it wasn't me that fainted on Colonel O'Neill! Remember?"
"No!" Sam had the grace to blush.
"Well, no harm done. He didn't seem to mind" Janet commented as she packed her bag back up. "These tablets I've left you should help reduce the symptoms from your system. No alcohol and plenty of water and you should be clear in a few days."
"What are they?"
"A cross between antihistamines and antibiotics"
"Do I have to take them? You know how I hate pill popping Janet?"
"Yes, you do, and yes, I do know. But you need these for the time being."
Sam acquiesced grudgingly, but her friend noted that she wasn't putting up the usual fight.
"Sam? Penny for them?"
"Hmmm? Sorry?"
"Sam! You're practically on another planet! What's the matter?"
"I guess I'm just a bit tired Janet, really, I'll nap and take it easy – promise!" Sam realised that if she didn't give Janet a plausible explanation, the good Dr wouldn't ever leave. Which would end up in the letter and all kinds of complications that for once Sam didn't want to contemplate.
Thankfully, Janet seemed to accept Sam's explanation. "Well, if you feel like you're having a relapse, you promise to let me know?"
"Yes, I promise"
"Right, well, I have errands to run so I'll leave you – but call you later?"
"Sure!"
"Okay, well take care of yourself – bye!"
"Bye!"
Sam went to the windows, pulled back the curtains and waved to Janet as she drove off.
Then Sam retrieved the letter from where she had stuffed it when Janet had arrived.
She read it twice more, unable to believe her eyes. What had possessed the eternally emotionally controlled Colonel Jack O'Neill to write this? If anyone but her had found it, well, the repercussions were unthinkable! Court martial? More like dishonourable discharge for both of them! When had he written this? If he'd slept all night on her couch? Hang on, she thought, and took a second look. No blanket, no pillow, though he might have used the cushions to be fair.
Vague scenes came back to her – Jack sitting by her bed, bathing her forehead, talking to her.
"Oh my god!" she whispered "He was with me all night!"
She stood up, carefully now, as she didn't want to pass out again. She walked back to her bed and stripped the linen from it.
As she piled the sheets and duvet cover onto the chair by her bed, she saw a book propped open on the arm.
"The spine!" she dropped her load of bed linen and leapt for the book.
"Well, at least its not broken" she told herself as she searched for a suitable bookmark. And then she realised, she hadn't left a book like that ever – and the only person who could have? She turned the bound pages over and then saw the title. Unsure, she reopened the book to where it had been left open. And all of a sudden she knew why the Colonel had written her that letter.
The realisation made her sit down heavily on the edge of her mattress.
"Oh. My. God."
Sam sat for several moments, silent and unmoving, still holding onto the book.
After a little while she told her to stop thinking about this, c'mon, pull yourself together woman, and carried her washing through to the kitchen.
Her morning slipped into mid-afternoon, and Sam made efforts to try and think about anything but the letter. Her distraction therapy caused her washing to be completed and dried, every thing was ruthlessly ironed into submission and her e-mail account was tidied up on her laptop. It was when she found herself alphabetising her CDs that she knew she was trying too hard. Her head started to feel light and her stomach complained of too little food since breakfast.
Sam padded through to her kitchen and made herself a sandwich, then settled down to continue her viewing of NCIS. The letter was folded up in the back pocket of her jeans, the pressure a constant reminder. Just as she was starting the second programme off, her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey Carter"
"Sir!"
"So, you're up and about then?"
"Yes." Sam paused "So, all your chores done then?"
"Uh-huh."
"Me too."
"I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy?"
"What Janet doesn't know!"
"Sweet. So, er, feel up to company?"
"I thought you'd never ask…"
"Would now be okay?" Is that a hesitant note in his voice? thought Sam.
"Sure, I'm only watching TV"
"Okay, so need anything bringing over?"
"No, not really."
"Not really?"
"Well, some ice-cream would be good"
"Your usual?"
"Toffee Pecan, yes please!"
"I'll be right there"
And the phone went dead.
Sam grinned to herself as she put the phone down by her side.
The doorbell rang.
Who on earth is that? Oh, surely not Janet! Please don't let it be Janet checking up on me now! Sam offered a prayer up.
She walked to her door and saw a familiar shadow through the glass. Hesitating for a moment, pulling herself together, she
opened the door to find Jack standing on her porch, holding a very large carton of her favourite ice cream.
"Hey Sam"
"Hey Jack"
THE END!
Author's note: Yes, I know it's a bit open ended – alright it's a complete cop out! I did try and write the next bit, but feared my own projection might be spotted... ahem>! Well, thanks for reading this, it is my first fanfic ever so please be kind if you are sending me reviews? Next? Well, should you be clamouring for another tale, my next effort is either an NCIS attempt, SG-1 J/S shipper or an SG-1/NCIS crossover – keep watching the skies!
Thanks to Know Your Dog for beta-reading. Even though she can't believe how buff Daniel is these days!