Window of Opportunity

He was smiling at her. She ignored it for a minute, assuming Daniel would start talking soon and Colonel Jack O'Neill would direct his attention elsewhere. This did not happen as soon as she would have hoped, so she finally caved under the intense gaze of his brown eyes. "What are you smiling at?"

She almost thought he would give her a straight answer until he moved his hand slightly and replied with the smile still plastered to his face, "Nothing."

"Dr. Jackson, what do you have for us?" General Hammond asked the archeologist in front of them, effectively killing whatever conversation Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill could have even thought of continuing.

She didn't think anything more of it until the next morning in the commissary when she was having breakfast again with Daniel and the Colonel. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone enjoy oatmeal so much."

"When you've been having Fruit Loops for who knows how long, a little variety helps." The answer was classic Jack O'Neill, and they accepted it without question.

As if trying to answer the "who knows how long" segment of her CO's statement, Sam informed her friends, "Well, we got a message from the Tok'ra. Apparently, they've been trying to contact us for over three months." She delivered this news with apparent surprise, although they all knew they had been out of sync with the regular flow of time for quite a while.

Jack tried to appear interested. "Really?" he asked, although it came out sounding more sarcastic than he had originally intended.

If she noticed, she didn't comment upon it, but continued with her previous thought, "Who knows when they first realized we were cut off. I mean, there's really no telling how much time passed."

The two men seated with her didn't even respond to her comment, but Daniel did seem to think of a question of his own for Jack. "Let me ask you something. All that time you were looping, were you ever tempted to do something crazy?" A small smile began to form on Daniel's face, and Sam could see where he was going with this. "I mean, uh, you could do anything without worrying about consequences."

Her blue eyes darted from Daniel's face to Jack's quickly, curiosity shining through them. The man being addressed starred dully across the table, looking almost as if his emotions had been deadened by his recent experience. The spoon full of oatmeal sat poised in his hand, ready to be stuffed into his waiting mouth as soon as he answered the question. He twirled it slightly and watched it as he answered, "You know, it's funny. You asked me that before."

Daniel stole a quick glance at the woman next to him, clearly intrigued about this answer. Looking back across the table, his lips began to curl upward uncontrollably. "And?" he asked, his tone begging his friend to respond.

No sooner were the words out of Daniel's mouth did the brown eyes across the table switch their target from him to the woman sitting next to him. She turned to look at Daniel just as he turned his head to look at her, but she only waited for their eyes to meet before looking back at her CO. Daniel's eyebrows furrowed as he thought of the possible meanings behind that look.

Sam smiled just a little, thinking back to the briefing room the day before and the expression Jack's face had held – an expression that was being repeated before her eyes. He had never looked at her that way before, at least not without an accompanying grief to change his features. Still, she knew how he felt about her. She had known ever since the Zay'tarc testing, perhaps even before, but she had not allowed herself to admit it.

Still smiling, she glanced down at her own breakfast, but not before Jack avoided answering Daniel's question by biting into his oatmeal once more. He didn't need to say anything. By the small curve of his lips and the expression she had just witnessed, she knew he had done something they could never talk about.

Grace

Her eyes blinked as she struggled to open them, but they remained forcefully shut. She continued the effort, but through the darkness, she tried to discern where she was. There was bed underneath her, but it wasn't one of the hard, uncomfortable beds of the Prometheus' infirmary. Or was her brain playing tricks on her again?

She shook her head slowly and wet her lips, her eyes finally opening. Even the dim lights pierced her sensitive eyes, and she felt a dull pain throbbing in the back of her brain. At least it was a dull pain and not the searing headache she had become accustomed to recently.

"Hey," a familiar voice greeted her, and she turned her head to look at the owner, who was sitting on the bed next to her own. His head was propped up on his hand, and he looked as if he had been there for a while, just watching to see when she would finally awaken.

So it was another illusion. Maybe she hadn't saved the Prometheus crew after all. Maybe she was still stranded in that nebula, so many miles away from the home she loved. But as long as she was still dreaming, she may as well go along with it. "Jack?" she breathed, thinking back to the last time she and her imagination had been left alone with the Jack in her subconscious.

"Excuse me?" He replied, his eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on his face. Obviously he had not been expecting this response.

She blinked again, banishing the fog she had been seeing. So this was real, not another figment of her imagination. The realization comforted her and disappointed her at the same time. Not knowing exactly how to recover from the recent disregard in protocol, she closed her eyes again, took in a shallow breath (which was the best she could manage at the moment), and answered in the strongest military voice she could muster, "Sorry, sir." She still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes, the lights continuing to wreak havoc on her retinas.

"Yes, well, a massive concussion will tend to disorient one," he answered thoughtfully, trying to smile, but once she opened her eyes, she could see the worry shining so clearly through his. She knew he wouldn't be upset at her seemingly inexplicable use of his first name. He was probably wondering how badly she had been hurt to cause her such confusion. If only he knew the things Sam had been experiencing.

She appreciated what he was trying to do and quickly asked another question, one she desperately needed to know the answer to. "How long was I out there?"

"It's all relative, Carter, that whole time-space continuum thing," he replied, although his usual smile was curiously absent from his face.

"Sir," she said quickly, knowing he could go on if she didn't stop him. She knew he was trying to be funny, but at that moment she wasn't in the mood for their usual banter. Under normal circumstances, she would have enjoyed listening to his peculiar way of talking, but not today. She needed a straight answer.

"Four days." He looked at her meaningfully, as if trying to convey in a glance how long those four days had seemed to him. He wondered if she knew how worried he had been and how he had almost given into the fear that he would never see her face again. But how much can really be said in a look?

She shook her head a little, and her eyes darted off of his face, gazing at nothing in particular. Was this to protect herself, so that she wouldn't see the emotion so clearly beneath the surface of his eyes? Perhaps, but Jack would never let himself believe that.

"Could have sworn it was weeks," she whispered in reply. He understood that and smiled sadly at his friend. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her to spend four days alone with a massive concussion.

He knew when it was time to change the subject to a lighter one. That had always been one of his strengths. "Uh, Teal'c and Daniel say hi. Uh, they're planning some sort of a shindig for when you're up and around. There's talk of cake."

She smiled, remembering her friends and their recent appearances from her imagination. She also enjoyed listening to her CO talk, especially when there was talk of parties, because she could tell how much he enjoyed telling about them. "A cake?" she asked, knowing that would elicit a real smile from him.

It did, and he answered with a pleased expression on his face, "My idea." In his mind, he knew it wouldn't make everything better, but where could you go wrong with cake?

To his great delight, she mustered enough strength for a real smile. It wasn't one of the biggest smiles he had ever received from her, but he knew it was the best she could do under the circumstances. He accepted it with a little smile of his own, a tender one he knew he rarely used. But she was special, and she was home, so it made things seem better.

He nodded slightly, raised his eyebrows and decided to be considerate. "Need anything? Magazine, yo-yo?" He shrugged his shoulder at her. Okay, so he couldn't help but be a little silly. He knew she didn't mind.

She closed her eyes and shook her head no. "I'm fine," she replied, thinking how nice it was to just rest for a little while after everything that had happened.

"Yes, you are," he said, grateful that was true. He smiled one last time and turned to go.

"Thank you, sir," she said, stopping him and causing him to turn around once more to look at her.

She looked sincere, more sincere than if she was thanking him for offering to get her something. He wondered what could be so important to make her thank him like she just had. "For what?" he asked, very interested in what her answer would be.

She didn't respond right away, but gazed at his face for a while. She wondered if she had ever felt this way about another man before, but with her brain so cloudy, she could barely think straight as it was. For a brief moment, she considered being honest with him, telling him part of what had happened in those four days that she was missing. Then she thought better of it. It would not be a good thing if her superior officer thought she was crazy. So she answered the best she could. "Nothing."

He may have been disappointed at her answer, but he didn't show it. Instead, he answered in his own way, saying something he knew would make her smile, "Think nothing of it. I've got plenty of that."

She did smile, a little, just to show how grateful she was just for his presence. They held each other's eyes for a moment, each longing to say more, to talk about what they knew they could not. Instead, Colonel Jack O'Neill smiled once more and walked away. She watched him go, knowing that was how things had to be. Maybe her subconscious had been right. Maybe it was time to let go.

Her eyes closed again as she tried to sleep, wishing to be rid of the dull throbbing in her head. But before she could drift off, she heard the distinct sounds of a little girl singing. "Grace," she thought suddenly and opened her eyes to make sure she was still in the infirmary on base. She was, and there were no little girls in sight. Closing her eyes again, she thought about the little girl once more and knew Grace would always be apart of her, even if just in her subconscious. Finally, Major Samantha Carter fell asleep to the lulling cords of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."