Lt. Col Sam Carter slumped down onto her couch, her short blonde hair an unruly mess in contrast to the sharpness to the neatness it usually carried. She had roved her hands over her head and her face in frustration so many times that now her hair and her face matched with her state of mind- all over the place. Carter sat, hunched forward in her sofa, and poured herself more wine. The wine still tasted of nothing in her mouth from when she had opened the bottle a while ago but she had wanted to get drunk. Carter realised with a start she had now finished off the bottle but she no longer cared. Her whole head ached and she felt tears beginning to well inside of her but her tough resilience stamped them down by habit.
Was that all she had left, to sit alone with silent grief into the cold and lonely night? Now that her emotions were getting the better of her, her grief bled naturally into other areas of pain long ago buried. Carter thought of the death of her best female friend Janet Fraiser-whose death, though a year ago, was still raw. She reflected on the pain that came with thinking she had nearly caused the destruction of the whole planet, for the breaking off of her second engagement of Pete and for the truly messed up situation she had with the only man she had ever loved who was rather ironically the man she could not be with. These intermingled memories of grief all had one stem- it had been her father's funeral today.
Retired General Jacob Carter's funeral had been a long affair. Carter had had to use all of her military training to remain professional and composed throughout the day, and the look of admiration and respect O'Neill had imputed into her a silent strength; the remaining courage and power over her grief that she hadn't found in herself. Not that had stubbornness would ever let her admit that she couldn't get through something alone, even if it was her father dying. There had been a paradoxical conflict going on within her- on the one hand, she had been determined to make it through the day independent on another. On the other hand, however, it seemed she had been physically unable to keep from occasionally glancing at O'Neill throughout the day and relishing the strength his eyes gave her. The funeral had taken place in Colorado Springs, not far from the base. O'Neill had driven her to the funeral and had then driven her back to the base. He'd offered to drive her to her house when she'd changed but Carter hadn't taken him up on it; too aware of her own emotions and that stubborn independent part of her not wanting her to fall apart in front of him. Instead she used the last of her strength to change into her civvies and drive herself home.
Now Carter was drunk and alone with only her messed up emotions for company. Carter had gotten another bottle and now opened it, pouring herself more wine. She gulped down more, and tears mounted further in her eyes. There was another conflict in her now- she had got her wish of grieving alone, but her solitude only seemed to enhance everything. Part of her was beginning to regret not taking her brother up on the offer of staying with him and his family at this time but she could tell at the funeral he was bitter. She could tell he was bitter of not having the relationship with his father that his sister had had, and blaming the Air Force on that. That the two of them had had some secret club, some conjoined mission that Mark could never be a part of. What made it worse was the truth that this was, albeit a harsh summary, exactly the case. She could tell from his narrowed eyes and his locked jaw and the fact that he barely said a word all day that there was anger as well as grief in his eyes. Resentment was clouding his sorrow at their father's death and Sam Carter had simply decided not to involve herself with that foul temper, because arguments would surely start and that was the last thing she'd needed.
A knock on the door suddenly snapped Carter out of her thoughts. Carter stood and swayed and manoeuvred slowly over to the door. She saw General Jack O'Neill on the other side. She paused momentarily- a battle between not showing him vulnerability and not wanting to admit she needed him; and the truth that she actually did need him. He'd promised the day her father died that he would be there for her- and as much as she wanted to do it on her own, she wanted him to be there for her as much as he did. In the end the prospect of his company won and she opened the door to admit him.
He stood opposite her, his eyes full of concern for her wellbeing and offering a large box of pizza and a six pack of beer in greeting. Carter stepped aside to let him in. She shut the door behind him as he walked past and she turned to face him and tried to smile. She showed him to the longue and he put the pizza box and the beer on the coffee table. Carter did nothing but stare at him for a few moments, and then as the last of the strength left her legs Carter slid slowly down to the floor. It had been such a long day. O'Neill followed suit, coming down to sit beside her. He touched her arm and she looked up at him.
"Carter, it's okay to be sad. It's okay to feel pain right now." She managed to give a small smile this time at his perceptibility. How was it he knew her so well to say that, to know that she still fought against emotions even when her father had been buried today? He'd taken one look at her and known exactly what was going on inside her head. O'Neill opened his arms. "Come here," he said, as he always would. Carter moved into his embrace and her head found the usual resting place of his shoulder. As she leaned into his embrace he circled his arms tightly around her. Carter finally allowed tears their victory and they ran down her face in torrents with enough force to sprint a marathon. Sobs rose up in her throat and she was too tired of battling with her emotions to stop them, especially after conceding to tears. Now she had let them fall, she was too weak and in the midst of grieving to stop anything else. Instead she simply let each sob take hold of her, making the whole of her shake and shudder. For once she let her Air Force mask slide off of her and was simply Sam Carter the woman, grieving for her father who was now buried in the ground beside her mother. With all her thoughts messed up inside of her and her head dry from her tears, Carter eventually succumbed to sleep. It would only occur to her much later that all the while she had outpoured her soul to him, he hadn't said a word. The reason simply being that no words had been needed.
"Hey," O'Neill stated gently as she stirred some time later. Carter blinked and let the world come into focus. It took her a couple of moments to orient herself to the fact she was lying on her couch and O'Neill was sat down on the floor near her head.
"How long was I asleep?" Carter asked him, putting a hand through her hair as she sat up. She didn't know how late it was and also didn't care.
"A couple of hours," O'Neill replied. She nodded, and fought the wince her headache gave her. Probably her hangover from drinking an entire bottle of wine to herself. "I'll get you some water," O'Neill offered.
"Thanks," Carter murmured. As he left to go into the kitchen Carter wiped her face, though her tears were long dry. She remembered with horror she had forgotten to take off her make up and decided she didn't want to think about what she must look like. O'Neill returned within moments, and she found herself unable to look at him and instead kept her gaze fixed on the coffee table. She felt him push a glass of water into her hands and she lifted the glass to her lips and tilted the glass so the cool liquid entered her mouth and she drank until it was gone and she replaced the empty glass on the coffee table.
"Want another?" O'Neill asked simply, and Carter simply shook her head. "Want to talk?" He asked her. Carter bit back the bitter smile that threatened to take her face. Talk? What could they possibly talk about? Carter shook her head once more. "Want some pizza?" O'Neill asked now. She thought about saying no to that too but her stomach grumbled loudly and Carter placed a hand over her stomach, embarrassed. "I'll take that as a yes," O'Neill said triumphantly, and his grin made things easier. He pushed the pizza in front of them and they began to eat. It was cold but still tasted good.
After three slices Carter sat back, no longer hungry. O'Neill closed the lid of the pizza box and for a moment there was an awkward silence. What to do now? Carter checked her watch. It was almost 2300- later than she had expected. Was this all that was left? Carter asked herself in despair for the second time that night. Pizza, and when that was gone, awkward silences? Carter couldn't bear it- not after opening up to him so.
"This is so messed up," Carter blurted out in frustration. O'Neill frowned, confusion evident in his eyes. "Us," she said finally, daring to bring up the subject they had been dancing around for years. O'Neill sat back in the chair that sat next to the couch, and their eyes seemed to burn into one another. Then, at last, he gave a long, heartfelt sigh.
"It sure is," was all he said. They exchanged a sad smile. At least he was admitting it, Carter thought to herself. "I might be able to help you out there," he said abruptly. Carter stared up at him. "I was going to tell you this when I got here earlier, but I thought I'd leave it for later," he explained, and at her nod he continued. "I'm being reassigned, Carter."
"What?" Carter blinked; shock evident in her features. "Sir, you can't," she immediately protested. "You mean too much to the SGC," she said.
"It's already done, Carter. I recommended a replacement CO, you'll like him. His name is Landry," O'Neill supplied, but Carter disregarded this information- at this moment she didn't care what her new commanding officer's name was called. She cared about O'Neill and the decision he had just made. "I've been giving it some thought, Carter. I wasn't going to take it, but the day after your dad died I decided to. I didn't want to burden you by throwing this bombshell at you whilst you were… making preparations," he finished.
"I see… wow. I'm speechless, sir," Carter replied. He gave a slow smile and Carter frowned at him for a moment, and then her frown disappeared as she finally realised what he was telling her. Her eyes widened. "When do you transfer?"
"Friday." Carter nodded. It was Wednesday night now. Carter swallowed. Two working days, and then he would be out of her chain of command forever. Two working days- and then that was it for the regulations, for calling him 'sir'. "I was gonna suggest this to the guys tomorrow," O'Neill murmured, "but I was thinking we could all go fishing this weekend. I've left it rather late, but I don't think anybody's got plans."
"I'd love to, sir." He nodded and smiled. She checked her watch. "It's late. If you like, you can kip in the spare room," she offered.
"That'd be great, Carter, if you don't mind. Considering I had some beer," he added. She nodded and showed him to the spare room. Carter went to her own bed then, filled with grief of her father but also a hope that whatever between her and O'Neill that had been shut off in that room four years ago might still be there.
The next two days went with an inexplicable combination of both rapid speed and a drifting slowness. It seemed to take forever and come suddenly that on Saturday morning Carter drove up to the General's cabin. The drive had done her some good; she'd had time to do nothing but drive and think, or think and drive. Her thoughts had drifted towards her father a few times along the way and once Carter had had to pull over and have a few moments of crying out her grief.
She was finally ready to take a chance. The Air Force regulations that had for so long prevented a romantic involvement were now finally gone, leaving them open and free to pursue such a relationship. No matter how many times Carter had dreamed about what this situation would be like and she was equally ready to admit she was scared stiff. But she knew she had to do take that chance, that risk to find out if there was anything still left. After all the times she'd buried her feelings under a mountain of professionalism and protocols she was unsure now the General still felt the same. They'd only- with the threat of their lives at stake- been forced to tell each other how they felt once but that was four years ago. She knew people could change in four seconds, and four years was an awfully long stretch of time. She wondered whether O'Neill might even still feel the same. They'd both even had relationships recently- her engagement to Pete and his brief yet very significant relationship with Kerry.
However what he'd said to her when he'd held her after she cried for her father filled her with hope. The hope that he still might feel something had first started with the way he had gently put his arms round her in the observation room as they watched her father's last few moments. He hadn't held her like that since Janet's death. Then the way he had uttered that one word, 'always'. Despite her warring emotions at the time there was room enough inside her heart for hope to flare. Every day since had spent at least a moment pondering that word and what it signified. Was it his confession of feeling the same, or was it simply the bond the two shared? O'Neill after all would equally be 'always' there for Daniel and Teal'c- it just left to ponder whether his feelings for her were simple team bonding and responsibility for his former team mates or something different. Something just for her. Well, this weekend, Carter was determined to find out exactly that- that is, if she could pluck up the courage to at last confront him.
Carter pulled up by his cabin. O'Neill must've heard the car appear because he was suddenly there, giving her a half wave with the warm smile that made her stomach flutter. Suddenly all her pep talks she'd given herself on the way over here were gone and she was just left scared and vulnerable. The truth was that it was easy to be Colonel Carter; the officer ready to follow his command and walk by his side. Being Sam Carter was increasingly more difficult- she was then just a human person, a woman struggling with love and relationship and her own fears of commitment because of pain in the past.
"You gonna stay in there all day, Carter?" He asked and opened the front door for her. Carter fleetingly wondered whether she might have spent all day sat in her car if he hadn't spotted her. He gave her a smile. "You're right on time, Carter." Carter managed a smile and realised she still had her seating belt on. She quickly undid it and got out of the car. Meanwhile O'Neill was already at the boot and now opened it and picked out her small bag and slung it on his back. He pushed the lid back down and Carter locked her car and then turned to admire the view.
"This place is beautiful. I can understand why you come here so often," Carter reflected. O'Neill smiled and nodded. He led her into the room she was staying in and Carter dumped her stuff on her bed. "Where are Daniel and Teal'c?" She asked casually.
"They'll be here sometime this afternoon, probably about 1600. They were going to come earlier, but I think Daniel had something last minute to do… something," he finished, and that was enough of an explanation. O'Neill gave an indifferent shrug. Carter nodded, squashing the panic that they had a few hours to themselves without Daniel and Teal'c showing up. It was only 1330 but that was the time they had all arranged to arrive. Shall we have some lunch?" He offered.
"Sounds great," Carter replied, her stomach warming to the idea instantly. She'd eaten breakfast early this morning and had only had a snack since then.
O'Neill began getting out things to make omelettes, and Carter laughed when he bought out the beer. As O'Neill cooked, Carter felt something inside her relax. She'd had the thought to simply pounce on the subject of the conversation they'd had the other night, but now she realised this weekend didn't have to be about figuring out the 'thing' between them, assuming there was one still. There was no rush. It was simply about being there, with each other. They were just enjoying each other's company as they had done for the past eight years.
"Good?" O'Neill asked, as she put the last forkful in her mouth. Carter smiled and nodded. He returned the smile warmly and he put the plates in the washing up bowl. Then, O'Neill turned back to her. His expression had changed. His easiness was replaced with a serious gaze and she knew by instinct that it was time to see if anything was still there between them. To go inside the room neither of them had opened for four years. "Carter, what we said the other night…"
"Yeah…" Carter trailed off. She wasn't used to the idea of calling him Jack yet, but so far she had managed not to call him sir. She definitely didn't want to call him that if they were going to have *this* conversation. She sensed the atmosphere had changed into something more intense, matching the seriousness of his expression. Carter held her fears at bay, determined to finally have the conversation that was overdue about eight years. It was the conversation that was all or nothing; that could make or break them.
"Carter…" he straightened. ""I love you," he stated simply, and the world went still. Carter closed her eyes at the impact that simple statement gave her. She opened them again; stared into his eyes that were so open she felt she could stare into his very soul. She realised how much like him it was for him to be so open about this. His view of reality had such simplicity to it- he felt things intensely and thought it made complete logic to simply relate them to her. He would simply feel things, and simply tell her. He would have told her years ago, had the regulations permitted. She knew he had told her how he felt without any expectation she would feel the same (though obviously that had been his hope). He had simply told her… because that was how he felt. Because that was Jack O'Neill.
She, Sam Carter, was so complicated in comparison. She over analysed her heart with her head until she was too afraid to be vulnerable and voice them, and became content in living a life of denial, of logic rather than feeling. The moment was only slightly dampened with the sound of the kettle boiling beside them. As the kettle clicked, it registered within her she hadn't yet spoken. Her mouth opened to respond in kind- to utter something of her heart to him- but her throat was too tight and her words were not voiced. She only hoped he wouldn't take this silence as rejection. O'Neill hadn't changed his expression- simply stared at her intently. It was as if once again he saw right into her head- the conflicting battle within her. He seemed to intrinsically know to just be all quiet and calm and stillness, and patiently wait for her to gather up the courage to open her heart to him fully. Carter tried with panic to make sense of her emotions. Then, in a single moment, things changed and she understood her emotions perfectly. She avoided love and being vulnerable because she believed it to end in loneliness and pain- even when the man she loved had openly admitted his feelings for her. However, now she had just understood with absolute clarity that she must take this chance. Otherwise she would have pain and loneliness anyway- mixed with regret.
"I love you too, Jack." Her voice was calm and clear, in contrast to the panic that her emotions had been. Her admittance of her heart left her feeling light-headed, and she felt a peace settle within her she'd never known before. As if the only things that existed in the whole world was him and her. O'Neill smiled at her words.
"Good. Well done, Carter." Carter smiled. He did know! He knew what a difficult thing it had been to say those four words, despite how clearly and sincerely she meant them. His smile widened and then faded on his face, leaving his expression intense and serious. He leaned forward closer. Carter tilted her head up and their mouths met halfway. Their mouths lingered on each other and she revelled in the taste of him. He tasted warm and sweet and something else she couldn't distinguish, something so complex in its taste and feeling that it had to be simply Jack O'Neill. Their kiss ended slowly, as gently as it had begun. O'Neill grinned easily. "Go out with me." His words were abrupt and the simple way in which he said them made her heart love him all the more.
"Yeah," Carter replied with a grin. "I'd like that. Very much." And that was it. After not being able to be together for eight years, it was now completely different in the space of about two minutes. Carter had built up this conversation so much in her head- analysing their psyches, considering all the implications of the undertones of their feelings over the last eight years- and it was only now they'd voiced their feelings Carter realised how utterly simple it all was. She considered that for O'Neill, it had probably always been this simple- that for him, it had been simply 'always'.