Title: Dreams Don't Turn To Gold, Chosen Hearts Series S1-106

Author: HDorothy aka HailDorothy (the same)

Categoryl: Angst/Romance

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jack/Sam, Jack/Sara

Season: S1

Spoilers: 101-CoTG, 106-Cold Lazarus

Rating: K+

Summary: Follows Crap! So Not Going Fishing. After the crystalline alien takes on Jack's physical form and memories Jack confronts never having grieved over the death of his son Charlie or his lingering feelings for Sara. All which proves a major testing ground for his newfound love with Sam.

File Size: 383 KB

Archived: Jacfic, GateWorld, Heliopolis, SamandJack, FanFiction

Series Summary: The Chosen Hearts Series, is not chronological written and starts with Jack and Sam's first romantic encounter to present SG-1 season including S9, 10 and futuristic. Please read Charade for setup that will include Black Ops flashbacks, and references to Charade. Other than the twists I've first introduced and a few along the way, this series is canon based.

Song: Where Do Broken Hearts Go? Whitney Houston, Greatest Hits. Lyrics: F. Wildhorn, C. Jackson 1987 © Where Did the Good Times Go, Van Halen

Special thanks to: My beta Carol Sue you make my words shimmer like Jack's stars.

Thank You, God Almighty, for bequeathing me the gift of the bards.

Disclaimer: All publicity recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This series may include script excerpts from the TV Series Stargate SG-1. Said author is not acquiring profit for the work of said fiction. This fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of said author, HailDorothy 2004 ©.

Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)

PROLOGUE

"This will be a tough one, Oma." Daniel groused straddling a tree branch not far from where the action unfolded.

"I know." The Ancient settled beside him. "But these affairs of the heart must be settled for both their sakes."

"Yeah," he breathed out. "But it's hard to imagine Sam being so sneaky. Even then, I'd never have suspected her to spy on someone let alone Jack."

"You forget, Daniel Jackson, that when one is young and in love, one does foolish things, even Samantha Carter."

"Oh, sure. Forgot." He playfully sent a snap crackle charge through the power lines. "Now what?"

"We watch how the Keeper of the Stars keeps His promises and answers prayer."

CHAPTER ONE

I've been around enough to know That dreams don't turn to gold And that there's just no easy way
You just can't run away . . .

Sam hit the button of her car's CD player ending their song. Perceptibly, Jack O'Neill was no longer running from his past!

She couldn't believe she'd ever spy on Jack. Yet here she was. Soon as he'd escorted the crystalline alien through the gate and Sara had been debriefed, Jack drove her home. Sam followed discreetly in her Volvo, her heart confused with the day's events, let alone she'd sunk so low as to follow him. Hurt, anger, and jealously twisted their talons about her heart. If Jack caught her there would be heck to pay. She didn't care. He'd lied . . . Well not exactly. He'd just never told her! He'd said he was divorced. Daniel said Jack and Sara were separated. That he'd lied about!

Now what? What if Jack and Sara reunited? Sam had often thought about him reconciling with his wife and feared it. Now Sara O'Neill had a face: an attractive, fair complexioned face. Considering Jack's handsome ruggedness, Sam had expected Sara to be a knockout Playboy centerfold. She wasn't. If anything Sara O'Neill was like Sam. Average. Oh, she saw the similarities between them. Both were tall, blonde, athletic built and in love with Jack O'Neill.

Logically most men and women remained attracted to the same physical body type their entire lives. Jack was no exception. His MO preference tall, blonde women. Sam felt she was competing against herself. The difference being, her competition had the advantage of physical intimacy with Jack, an intimacy Sam only hoped to someday experience. In the honest base words of one Colonel O'Neill, "This sucked!"

Three hours later:

She jolted awake and looked down the street at the two-story Victorian. Jack's green Ford truck set in the driveway and the yard lights had long been turned off. She glanced at her watch. It was 0320. A light shone from the back of the house, possibly the kitchen, but the rest of the house remained bathed in darkness.

"Why, Jack?" Sam murmured. Turning the car's ignition, she realized that considering their present work relationship it was best this way. For as long as Jack remained her CO they couldn't pursue a love affair, let alone a forty plus year marriage. He owed Sam nothing. For a couple of months they'd given one another all they had to give or were allowed. Which if Sam were honest, amounted to squat on her end. Jack had given far more than she had to their brief whirlwind courtship. She had wondered and feared how long before he'd realize how much soiled baggage she carried, let alone had yet to share with him. All the reasons their wannabe love affair had suited her just fine. The fact Jack hadn't told her about Sara was minor to everything she'd kept from him. None of that now mattered. Really. Jack deserved to be happy, even if not with her.

Sara's Kitchen:
"All my life I've never stopped to worry bout a thing Open up and shout it out, an' never try to sing Wondering if I've done it wrong Will this depression last for long Won't you tell me? Where have all the good times gone. Where have all the good times gone. Where have all the good times gone.

"Once we had an easy ride and always felt the same Time was on our side and we had everything to gain This could be like yesterday Is this me with your happy days Where have all the good times gone Where have all the good times gone Where have all the good times gone . . ."

It seemed appropriately warped that a Van Halen song played on the radio's oldies channel in the kitchen. While Jack had progressed to opera and classical jazz, Sara remained a die-hard fan of their generation's music. There'd been a time, they'd scrimped and saved to buy tickets for that heavy rocker's concerts. Here in familiar surroundings that hadn't changed since he'd left on that first Abydos mission, the song's lyrics hit home harder than Jack expected and he quickly crushed a maverick tear from an eye and sniffed.

Jack watched Sam's Volvo pullout into the street and drive off. His heart twisted. Sam had been sitting out there for hours. He'd half expected her to come knock on the door, but even when she hadn't, he didn't go after her. He had enough to handle tonight and for the moment it was his ex-wife Sara.

Expelling a yawn, he sat at the oak kitchen table he'd built a decade earlier, and watched Sara wash the coffee cups. He glanced at the wall clock. 0330. They'd sat here talking for nearly five hours. More importantly he'd wept with Sara over Charlie. It hadn't been the gut retching cry he'd expected or still felt buried within him. Maybe time had caused his heart to finally mend. Then maybe someday with Sam that dam would actually break. Yeah. Someday.

Strange how sitting here with the woman he'd loved for over sixteen years, he thought about Sam. And that gave him closure with Sara. The issue was Sara didn't want closure. He didn't know what to do. As usual, Jack confused easily, especially regarding the female gender. He'd long realized that despite all his macho single man attitude and assuring Sam he'd not been on the rebound when they first met, he still loved Sara. Not as being, 'passionately in love' as he had years before, but he'd not closed the door of his heart to her. He still loved her. Now he needed to find out what type of love kept him rooted in this chair.

"Yesterday was such an easy game for you to play Ah but then let's face it things are easier today Yes, you need some bringing down Get your feet back on the ground . . . Where have all the good times gone . . .."

Sara turned from the sink and looked at him. Jack smiled wearily. Their separation and divorce had physically worn on her as it had on him. Four years Jack's junior, Sara would always be beautiful in his eyes.

"Not much left of the night, Jack. Stay?"

"Sure, if you don't mind, I'll crash in Charlie's room—"

She shook her head.

"The couch?"

"No." She approached and then knelt in front of him, caressing his face. "With me." Her hand trailed down his chest to stroke inward on his left thigh. Her touch was still electric. Jack jolted but didn't remove her hand. Her familiar touch caught him off guard as he struggled with long neglected physical needs and his conscious.

'Oh,' he mouthed, grimaced and shut his eyes. He should have expected this, but hadn't. Emotionally busted and physically exhausted, he considered it. Making love to Sara could determine where he really belonged. Beautiful erotic memories flooded back to him, but didn't last. Sara wasn't Sam.

"I can't." He reached down and gently withdrew her hand before it covered his crotch. He squeezed her hand gently but he did not look at her the way she desired, nor did he physically respond beneath her touch. The impotency had returned. Still, like in the past, Sara did not rub the shortcoming in his face, let alone mention it. But she still stunned him.

"Faithful to a fault, Jack," she murmured, shaking her head sadly, "But no longer to me."

He gaped.

"I'm not asking for recommitment, Jack. I've missed you, missed us. We maybe didn't do everything right, but we were magic under the sheets, even after you couldn't. . ."she trailed off then smiled, "You always managed to satisfy my needs and make me scream." She winked suggestively.

Oh, yeah, that he did. Make her scream! However, he needed more. He needed Sam. "Sara, remember the last time we talked?"

She nodded gravely and glanced away.

"You told me to move on. I did."

"I regret I ever said that." She stood and swiped a tear from her cheek.

"We both have regrets. For the longest time I wanted this again. Us. The way it used to be before Charlie died. You know how I feel about marriage, Sara. It's a lifetime commitment."

"I know. That's why I thought with your religious convictions and all."

"You're right, I'd never have divorced you, Sara. Not unless one of us had cheated and considering what a lousy husband I'd been, being married more to the Air Force than to you . . . In my own way I'd cheated. So, yeah, I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd found someone else during those times when I was on long covert missions. But even if you had, I'd have at least tried to reconcile, make our marriage work."

"I admit the idea crossed my mind a few times, but more for revenge. When we were together we were great, Jack. All I wanted was more of us."

"I was trying, Sara, really I was. That's why I retired."

"But?"

"When I came back from that last mission, I had new hope and grand plans for us. You didn't. You'd left me and filed for divorce. Struggled a long time before I reconciled with myself and with God. It hurt like hell, but I let you go, Sara, gave you what you wanted."

"What I thought I wanted." She sniffed and nodded. "Guess we really screwed up."

Now that they'd mourned over Charlie and shut the door on that personal history, the other hurt re-festered. Jack had to say it. "You deserted me, Sara, deserted our marriage—said we weren't compatible."

"Salt on the wound, hey?" She looked at him, but not bitterly.

"Didn't mean it that way." Sure did. "Look, I've come to realize that when two people truly love each other, the issue of compatibility isn't part of the equation. Does not apply." Now he sounded like Carter. "Not that we don't try and correct the flaws in our personalities, but we must want to do it, not just for the other person, but for ourselves. Sara, if we had loved each other unconditionally, we'd have found a way to make it work, no matter what the world tossed at us, even Charlie's death. More importantly, we wouldn't want to fix each other. We'd accept the good with bad. To death due us part yadda yadda." 'Geez, Jack, that's the biggest mouthful you've said in months to anyone, even Carter.'

"But you have changed, Jack."

He stood and stuffed his hands into his jeans. "God willing we all change for the better. Still it's about being in it for the long haul, Sara." He drew her to him and hugged her tenderly, but he didn't nuzzle and kiss her neck like he had at the hospital. That intimate hug was now reserved for one woman, for Sam. He'd also not called Sara; Babe, Baby or Hon. Each intimate endearment was now the sole possession of one Samantha Jean Carter.

When he didn't nestle, Sara stiffened. She knows.

Pulling back, he gazed down and swept the tears from her eyes with his fingertips. "I'll always love you, Sara, always care. And if you need anything, even to talk, you've got my home number and my cell phone. I want to remain friends, good friends."

Sara forced a tight smile. "I'd like . . . being your friend, again. Maybe that's something we can actually succeed at?"

"Sweet." He smiled and then ambled for the back door.

When he opened the door, Sara prodded, "You finally found her, huh?"

"Who?" he froze in mid-step.

"The woman I wished I could have been for you. The woman who can deal with you being Jack O'Neill."

Heat warmed his face. "What makes ya say that?"

"Because you cried with me, Jack."

"Yeah I did." He didn't want to hurt her further. But Sara being Sara snatched his wrist. He turned as she smiled through her tears.

"I like her."

"Huh?"

"Your canned moron look doesn't work with me, Jack O'Neill."

"Hey, can't blame a guy for trying." He shrugged and hedged a smile.

"Captain Carter."

"Oy?" Jack blanched. Crap! With all that'd gone down tonight had it been that obvious? Jack didn't even recall exchanging a look with Sam. Well there was the one after he'd hugged Sara goodbye at the hospital. Yeah, he'd given Sam his 'I'm sorry' look.

"I doubt others see what I see, but then they're not your ex-wife. I know your former second in commands, Jack. True, none were women. I also know the females you served with and you've never looked at them like you looked at the captain. I sensed and saw the bond between you two at the hospital. You're in love with her."

"Hey, hey, hey! She's my 2IC." He glanced at the refrigerator and a magnet that held a picture of Charlie in his Bat Man costume. Jack's heartstrings tightened.

"That might be, and I know you won't break the regs. Suspect she won't either. I know what I saw though. And I just hope you don't miss the window of opportunity because you're both diehard military."

"You don't? What happened to 'stay the night with me, Jack?"' He gawked.

"I'd like nothing more." She caressed his tensed jaw. "But I want you happy. For an entire day when I thought that alien was you, I though we had another chance, Jack. Tonight, I realized you do, but not with me. You've never looked at me the way you looked at Captain Carter. It's as if you are each other's Godsend."

"I—" He dragged a hand through his hair and leaned against the doorjamb. If there were a big enough rock he'd crawl under it.

"Clearly there are different depths of being in love, Jack. I'm honored you would have settled for less with me. Still you would have eventually met her. And—"

"Geez, Sara, you don't have to do this. I would never cheat on you!"

"Maybe not with your body, but we have less control over our hearts, Jack. In time, it would be her you'd be thinking of when you made love to me. Worse, it would tear down all the honorable traits that make you a good man and an officer. I've always known your list of priorities was God, country and then family. I could no longer stand being third on your list, Jack."

He sighed. "I'm sorry you feel that way." How many times had he tried to explain to her that if God and country and didn't come first, there would be no family—for anyone in this nation, this world?

"We spoke you know." Sara came full circle.

"Oh, yeah?" Gulp!

"Yes." Sara grinned. "And I suspect she's pretty mad and hurt about now."

"Why?" Mad, he understood. Hurt?

Sara shook her head. "Well, glad to see at least one thing hasn't changed about you. You still don't realize when you've messed with a woman's heart, even if not intentional."

"Hey, toss me a bone here will ya?"

"You didn't tell her about us or Charlie, did you?"

"Well, no. Geez, Sara, it's complicated. She knows I'm divorced. We met before we were assigned to NORAD. Then everything got put on indefinite hold." He made a hopeless gesture. Besides being tired, he didn't want to confess to his ex-wife he was in love with his 2IC, or any intimate details, including their Special Ops days.

Sara knew him and didn't press it. "Talk to her, Jack. You used to say, when we fail to communicate, we fail. Take your own advice for once, especially if you really love her. Gosh and you know the three most important things in a relationship are: communication, communication and communication!" She made quote marks with her fingers.

"You always were a wise mouth, Sara," he said with sincerity and a smirk.

"Yeah, well if I was so wise I'd be seducing you while you're still putty in my hands. So I suggest you leave before I go for broke."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He held her affectionate gaze and then opened the door.

"And Jack?"

"Sara?" He glanced back.

"Have a good life." Her eyes were wet again.

"You too, Sara. You too."

CHAPTER TWO

Antsy as a cat, Jack found himself at the park watching the sunset. He revisited his final words with Sara two days ago. It had been hard. He'd been confused. Even worse, he'd hurt her, again. Two years ago, she'd had him served with divorce papers and when he'd pleaded to reconcile, she'd said no. Told him to move on, get a life. He gave her what she wanted. Then after that crystal life form took on his likeness and tried to find Charlie everything changed, especially for Sara. Was she still in love with him or the imposter? Jack had yet to figure that out.

The trouble was he had done what Sara asked, he'd finally and willingly moved on. He'd done that all right. He had fallen in love with Carter. Sam knew he'd been married, but hadn't known the details about Sara, let alone that he'd had a son until this happened, and then it hadn't come from him. Daniel had filled her in. Just what had Daniel told her? No doubt that explained why she'd barely spoken to him since the event. Two solid days of getting the cold shoulder from Samantha Carter had pretty much fried his Irish patience.

Their last encounter had been in the SGC Mess when she'd sat with a few of the control room staff while Jack one table away, feigned that he was reading reports. Sam proceeded to eat blue Jell-O and flirt with the newly assigned Lieutenant Graham Simmons. Jack had spotted the younger man's immediate infatuation with Sam weeks ago, even teased her about it. Of course, she'd said although Simmons was cute, she already had her man.

Now the infatuated junior officer took Sam's bait and flirted back. Jack felt torn between puking and punching the kid's lights out. For one, he told worse jokes than Jack and Sam had the audacity to laugh.

". . . . And that's really why colonels wear eagles."

"Oh, Major, that is the funniest joke I've heard in ages." Sam hugged her ribs and giggled, causing Jack to look up from a report. Their gazes locked and loaded. She gave him a frigid smile. That did it!

"Oh, for crying out loud!" He snapped the report shut and stalked out of the commisary, knowing he'd attracted attention, especially from Sam's table. So Jack left the SGC telling Hammond, Teal'c, and Daniel he planned to drive to his cabin and to inform Carter. There was no way he'd face her without it turning into a verbal dispute that was not work related.

He never left for Minnesota. Truthfully, he felt too emotional and bone-tired. Running from the situation with Sam wouldn't fix anything. When it came to Carter, he'd stopped running. Right now though, he was definitely avoiding.

Sara had been right. He needed to talk to Sam, share his heart. He'd sit here awhile and then go home, drink some beer, call, and ask her to come over. Maybe between stargazing and talking, they could iron things out? Yeah.

Where do lonely hearts go Can they find their ways home . . .

About to enter the tree line Sam halted in her tracks and clutched her helmet. There was no denying the back of the man's head, the lean profile of his tanned handsome face. Despite the warm autumn day, that black knit cap tugged down over his unruly hair that she'd lately noted had acquired some silver streaks. Her colonel was here! Her mind spun and her heart jolted. From what she could see he wore his favorite bright yellow polo shirt, black leather jacket and faded dark jeans—their cuffs rolled up once, with military precision. She loved the way he avoided the popular fashion fads, yet managed to look hot in whatever he wore.

To the casual observer he looked relaxed as he sat stretched out with ankles crossed, staring through his dark shades at the mid-day sun. However, Sam noticed what others didn't, his squared shoulders, flat lined thin mouth, and flexed blue-shadowed jaw. Not to mention his outstretched arms on the bench's back and how the hands attached to them, rapidly tapped the wood. Colonel O'Neill was anything but relaxed.

Jack had hightailed it so fast out of the SGC she'd had no time to talk to him. More like he was avoiding her. She'd figured his abrupt departure had to do with her chilled behavior during lunch. She had been mad, really mad and yes, she'd flirted with Graham Simmons. Not intentionally of course, well maybe a little, when Jack had opted to sit alone instead of with her. Then Simmons had joined her and well the rest was a blur. Including the fact, that the lieutenant told worse jokes than Jack. Talk about gag worthy! Still she'd laughed and that's when Jack up and left.

Sam didn't pursue him. Pride wouldn't let her. Mainly because he'd not told her about Sara and Charlie, but then, he'd been unconscious yadda, yadda.

She should have known the moment she found him in the locker room with Jack's cigar box of pictures it wasn't the real Jack O'Neill. They'd been alone and there had been no reason for him to act detached. Any other time, she nagged him about it being the woman's locker room, Jack would have outright flirted and they'd have had one of their verbal French moments. After which, she'd go for a cold shower and he'd leave cursing for not being able to join her in that cold shower.

Instead she'd made some comment about him having family. Of course he had family; parents, cousins, etc. They'd talked about his parents deaths. But he'd never given her an explanation to her family question and so she'd babbled on about Mark and his kids. She'd barely glimpsed the photo but did realize there was a woman and child in the picture with Jack. Her heart had gone to her throat when he up and left without a word. What followed was a strained conversation with Daniel where she had to fake not knowing anything about Jack being married or having family. Well, she'd not faked the family part. Charlie? Man, oh, man! What else had he not told her?

If it had been anyone else new to serving with Colonel O'Neill, they wouldn't have known that either. Like Daniel had said, it wasn't the colonel's nature to share personal stuff until he got to know you better. So what qualified for better with Jack O'Neill? How much better than spending the night together in each other's arms after they'd almost died at the hands of her former fiancé, Captain Jonas Hanson who thought he was God. Jack saved Sam's life that day. Another matter, they'd not discussed like they should have. Especially that Jonas had confronted Jack a week before that incident, accusing him that she and Jack were more than CO and 2IC.

Since she and Jack had agreed to keep their Black Ops connection and brief personal interaction prior to Stargate a secret, she had once more and within a matter of weeks, lied, this time to Doctor Jackson who she'd just established an easy first name rapport. Lying was not the way to start off a new friendship.Not something she was proud about. Her conscious still berated her. Boy, she was a good actress.

Later seeing Jack and Sara hug at the hospital proved difficult. When Jack had nuzzled Sara, Sam's heart almost burst. He'd said those hugs were hers alone. He'd lied. Still it could have been about Charlie. After all, losing a child could either strengthen a marriage or break it. Maybe after all this time, it had began to mend?

Sam didn't dislike Sara. In fact, she liked her. Although Sara had more in common with Jack, including history he did not share with Sam brought the envy demon to the surface. Sam felt confused, hurt and worried. As it was, they'd agreed to be hands-off and obey the regulations. They went out of their way to conceal the sparks between them. Although Jack occasionally flirted with her, and when they had the chance for a brief touch or glance, they took advantage of it. Still they had only seen each other privately a few times times since the Abydos mission, at O'Malley's, here at The Garden of the Gods and once in the closet and then stargazing on his deck. However, stargazing proved too tempting. Sam had to practically leap off his roof before they found themselves in his house and in his bed. Thankfully, they had enough sense and conviction to stop.

Meanwhile, she'd been coming here for that special reason, them. This was the one place they'd agreed to be just Jack and Sam and remain obedient to the regs.

That first night at O'Malley's they had reluctantly agreed to put their personal lives on hold until the threat of the Goa'uld was eliminated. She suspected like herself these past two months had proven this was going to be a much longer war than either anticipated or wanted. Every night Sam went to bed with dreams of being in her colonel's arms, in his bed as his wife and lover. With recent events, knowing he no doubt had spent time with Sara, she was more than insecure, she was frightened silly.

He'd been late for work the day after the Crystalline incident. Sam wondered if it was due to spending a long night of lovemaking with Sara. Yet the man she'd come to know and care for wouldn't have followed through on those base desires, at least not that fast. Jack was not the cheating kind. Or so she hoped. Then again, what or who would he be cheating on? It's not like they were a public couple. Man, she hated this diffidence! Incongruously, he'd recently told Sam, the only way he'd ever make love to another woman, but her, would be because he was either drugged or some twist of fate had separated them forever, and even then, he'd be making love to her in his mind and heart.

So if he'd stayed with Sara last night, had he taken advantage of the situation? After all, he was human. Sure he and Sam had vowed to stay true and not date let alone have sex with someone else. But Jack was a physically virile man with needs. Let's face it, Sam, how many nights is he going to settle with your picture?

Sam's imagination got the best of her. She was jealous of Sara. Jack and Sara had a history she could never compete with. They'd had a child. Glancing at the back of the lone man on the park bench, she knew it wasn't fate that had brought her here. No, this was the will of Providence and she had better not mess it up.

"You've shred my fragile heart Me--who thinks I'm way too smart, to get another broken heart . . . Honesty's all I crave Past lovers buried our future's now Should I stay or go Hey, toss me a bone I'm sorry, there's no easy way. . . This trust crap's eating me alive, Me--who thinks I'm way too smart to get another broken heart . . . Honesty's all I crave Just say we're okay And I'll stay forever and always . . ."

"Come here often?" a familiar voice asked over Jack's shoulder.

He peered through his shades as the slender blonde strolled around the bench and blocked the sun. "Yeah, apparently not enough." He hedged a nervous look.

"Me either." She presented a clipped smile much warmer than what he'd received in the commissary hours before.

Jack found it hard not to stare. She wore snug black jeans and a soft blue short-waist sweater with her leather jacket and held a red motorcycle helmet. She looked great! She must have ridden her bike? He'd yet to see it, but Daniel had said it was a classic Indian.

"He-ey," His voice bottomed out. He hadn't a clue what to say. The last person he'd expected to see was Samantha Carter. Or had he? He removed his shades and squinted into the afternoon sun.

"Hey. Umm, care if I join you?"

"Nope." He shimmied down as he'd been on an angle with his legs stretched before him. He turned to face her, but her gaze was on her riding boots.

"Thought you were going to your cabin, sir."

"Change of plans."

"Oh."

Well, he sighed, let's just cut the bull and get this over. "Sam, I want to explain about—"

"No need. Daniel told me everything, sir."

"Yes well, there's a lot Daniel doesn't know. And you've been giving me the mummy treatment coz of it—"

"You assume a lot." She looked over and glared at him. "But then maybe so do I, " her voice turned glacier ice, so had her alabaster complexioned face.

Wow! And he thought he was the master of the deadpan face. Her soft features were unreadable and untouchable. Before he could speak she fired away minus military protocol.

"You never told me about Charlie or Sara! Why don't you talk to me, Jack?"

"Meant to." He reached out and stroked her left hand. "Really."

She pulled away.

"Just, we've not had time alone and—"

"You didn't see any point."

"Our meeting here?"

"Both. Not telling me about your family and running off to Minnesota."

"I wasn't running anywhere. Just needed to think things through before we talked. I was about to go home and call you."

"Oh." She glanced over and flinched but didn't look convinced.

"But we're here now." He gestured.

"Just like that?"

He nodded. "I'm not running, Samantha." He hands shook just the slightest. Twenty years of Black Ops and he was scared shitless this woman might walk out of his life. He glanced about and realized the park had grown busier, especially where they sat. "Let's hike." He stood and put out his hand.

Sam rose, but stubbornly ignored his peace offering as she came along side and maintained her personal space. Sniffing a breath, Jack shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. She never turned down hand holding which other than hugs was all they allowed themselves. Jack really needed intimate contact with her. He'd so blown it this time.

They walked in silence. This gave him time to access her body language and hopefully her main concerns. This was more than him not telling her about Sara and Charlie. Although she hadn't asked, Jack had a light bulb moment. They entered one of the hiking paths amid the trees and strolled away into the mid-afternoon shade.

"I didn't sleep with Sara, didn't even kiss her."

He heard Sam's breath hitch in her throat. Stopping mid-step, he glanced over at her. "I don't want her, Sam. I want you."

"You're not divorced."

"Yes I am."

"Daniel said you were separated."

"Geez." He dragged a hand through his hair. "The last time I talked to Daniel about me and Sara was on the first mission to Abydos over two years ago. Just before I left on that mission and assuming I wasn't coming back, I'd agreed to a trial separation. I'd no idea that when I returned she'd have left me for good, let alone serve me with papers. . . The divorce has been final over a year."

"I'm sorry." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I followed you, Jack."

"I know, Babe."

Her complexion flushed. "I'm sorry, I should have trusted—"

"C'mere." Jack offered his open arms and she stepped into them, gripping the zipper of his jacket, she burrowed her face against his chest.

Jack brushed her silky hair and lowered his face into the soft curve of her neck and kissed her. Sam shuddered beneath him. He felt tears sting the back of his eyelids. Drawing her with him, they sunk down onto the soft earth beneath a huge blue spruce and held tight. Jack murmured how much he loved her. Sam whispered the same to him.

"I'll tell you everything, Samantha, but you've gotta know although Sara and I are now just friends, we'll always have Charlie between."

"And I would never deny either of you that bond." She sniffed her tears.

Jack dug out his handkerchief and gently pressed it against her weeping nose.

When she blew loudly, he grinned. "Okay, about Charlie . . ."

Prose of love can heal the wounded heart.

Two hours of non-stop Charlie dialogue occupied them. Jack had Sam laughing and crying at the stories he so magically wove for her. Nine-year old Charlie became a living, breathing boy, Jack's son. The pride in his voice and the gleam in his deep brown eyes was something Sam would forever hold dear. She met another part of the man she loved, Jack O'Neill, the dad. Sam squeezed his hand and smiled lovingly at him. She'd often wondered if he'd be a good father, now without a doubt, she knew he had been and would be a great dad to their children.

The sun was setting as they came to their feet and brushed the pine needles off their clothes then Sam retrieved her helmet.

"Don't know about you, Babe, but I'm starved!" Jack grinned as he picked needles from her hair.

"O'Malley's," Sam suggested, returning the needle picking favor.

"Nah. Got fresh steaks in my frig."

"You cook?"

"That surprises you?"

"Well, yeah sort of."

"Sara didn't like the kitchen much, so it was a matter of survival. I love to cook and bake. Make one mean white chocolate cake from scratch."

"Whoa!" Sam nibbled her upper lip. "Well, I'm not fond of the kitchen either, but contrary to the gossip mongers, I can cook, but it's a lot more fun doing it with someone else."

"Well, there you are." He gestured between them. "We'll meet at my house and grill out."

"Deal." Sam turned to leave the darkening woods.

"Sam."

She turned to find him holdng his jackknife, about to carve into the trunk of the Blue Spruce.

"Jack!" She hurried over. "This is a national park. That's illegal!" She nervously glanced about, although they'd not seen anyone in over an hour.

"Shush!" He urged her to his side. "So's our being in love. But I want to make it official." He glanced at her with that mischievous grin that dissolved all reasoning. "Keep an eye out, wilya?"

"K," she sighed as he carved a large heart into the soft wood. She turned to watch the pathway. Sam felt like a teenager breaking curfew. It felt good. Nah, great!

"Done!" Jack announced snapped his knife shut and dropped it back into his pocket.

Sam turned and Jack drew her into his arms, one hand extended. "Voilà!"

She gapped then reaching out traced the large carving that covered a good share of the ancient pine's width.

Jack had carved two merging hearts and inside of the hearts wrote, J & S Forever Okay Always

"Forever okay?" She glanced at him.

"Always." He finished. "Yeah, if you've noticed since we can't go around saying I love you, we've been saying we're okay a lot. I thought that could be our code word for love. Like 'Forever Okay' means I'll love you forever and for always, Sam. If that' works for you?"

Fresh tears teased Sam's eyelids. She'd vowed to never engage in wimpy female crying while on duty, especially around Jack. He saw enough of her crying off duty. "Yeah, I like that a lot." A tear escaped.

"You do?" He captured her tear with his finger and brought it to his lips. His gesture made her love him more.

"Yes, Jack O'Neill. From here on, we're forever okay, always."

Turning her in his arms, Jack gave her a lover's smile. "I want to . . . just once—"

Sam looked longingly into his fevered gaze. "Can't we steal an occasional kiss?"

"Only if one of us can make sure it doesn't go further."

"I trust you, Zorro." She pressed into him and tilted her head with invitation.

Jack nodded, lowered his mouth and skimmed her face with his lips. Sam trembled with anticipation. His hungry lips found hers, sweetly and then desperately as Sam's lips parted, urging his tongue to dance with hers. He ravished Sam's mouth exploring, tasting gently, and nipping her tongue with his teeth.

Meanwhile his hands instinctively explored her back, waist, derriere and then slide between them caressing her breasts. Sam's breath hitched in her throat and her fingers began working magic on the lean hard masculine body she desired. When she gripped his tight butt, urging him closer, they realized where this kiss would lead. On cue they broke apart to stare wide-eyed and breathless at each other.

"O—kay!" Jack held up two fingers flagging intermission and then took several defined steps back. "That was—oh so right—and—oh so wrong—on so many levels!"

"Yep," was all she could squeak out of her mouth that addictively tasted of Jack O'Neill. Overcome with a physical need yet to be sated, Sam turned away and hugged her trembling limbs. "Not a good idea."

"Ya think?" He came up behind her. "Sam?" he sounded desperate, but his CO tone was there.

"I know. We can't do that again, sir."

He turned her around and nodded. "Least not for a long while."

"A really, really long while." She stared up into his familiar deadpan expression.

"Long, long time," he sighed with regret. "Whatever's going on between us is way too powerful for us to handle once it gets going."

"Oh yeah." She nodded. Even where his long elegant fingers held her forearms she felt aroused. "So supper's off?"

He flinched then snorted. "Don't think you'll get away from me that easily, Dorothy. If we're going to make this wannabe lovers relationship work off world or here, we've got to learn to restrain our passion no matter what the situation. The best way I see that happening is to spend time together as CO and 2IC and as friends."

Sam dithered. Jack was trying to reconcile their dysfunctional love affair and working rapport. He'd made a good point. Being together and staying disciplined was better than not being together at all.

"Sam, as your CO, I'll be straight. If we can't do this," his hands were talking. "Behave ourselves and be professionals, one of us has to leave SG-1. A point I previously made at O'Malleys."

Well that was a no-brainer. "Know that, sir."

"I'll do whatever you want just drop the 'sir' for now."

"I want you forever, Jack." She worried his top shirt button. "I want whatever we have until we can go public. And if that means pretending to the world, the SGC, our team members and General Hammond, so be it."

"Excellent!"

Jack's house:

Sam was holding Jack, rocking Jack. It took four hours, ten minutes, two steaks and several beers and chasers, before it happened, but it did. He was finally grieving over Charlie. Sam's heart ached and thrilled over the reality that it happened in her arms, not Sara's. The fact they were on his bed also fueled her passionate love for this man. However how they'd come to be here had been anything but romantic.

An hour ago:

They'd been putting the last of the clean dishes away when she'd innocently turned and asked, "Jack, we've grown closer today, right?"

He stepped over and brushed a rough fingertip across her soft cheek. "Oh, yeah." His dark eyes twinkled. "In leaps and bounds, Miss Dorothy." He chuckled.

Sam snatched his right hand and kissed it wanting it to be his lips, knowing it wouldn't be, and content to have what they had. "You've shared your heart with me about Charlie and Sara. I'm really grateful for our visit to P3X 562, but something bothers me."

"What?" He tipped his brown head in that naive manner that stole her breath.

"I hope that you've grieved with someone, Jack, especially Sara. It's important too—"

"Look! I did that with Sara. I don't need you nagging me about it!" His anger came out of nowhere explosive, almost violent. He'd turned and stalked out of the kitchen down the hall and into his bedroom, slamming the door.

Shaken, Sam tried to rationalize what had just happened. Tapping into her officer's class on the grieving process, she concluded his outburst to be a good thing. Now came the judgment call. Go to him or leave him be. Sam felt they'd gained too much ground to let it ride.

She slowly left the kitchen and walked to his door. Drawing a deep breath, she lifted her hand to knock but instead tested the knob. He hadn't locked it. She stepped inside. It was the first time she'd seen his bedroom. Although sparse on furniture and lacking a feminine touch, family photos and memorabilia decorated his dresser top and walls, especially of Charlie.

Jack sat on the king size bed clutching a picture of his son, staring at it.

"Get lost!" he barked, not as her CO but in a tone of desperate confusion.

Sam turned to obey.

"Stay?"

She glanced back. He stared at her, his dark brown eyes misting, his lean jaw trembling. Her heart went to her throat. She'd never seen him this way. It was scary and humbling. Jack O'Neill was a private, proud, forever irreverent Irishman. Sam assumed he could and would never break down in front of anyone, lest of all her. He had invited her into his world.

Walking over, she settled alongside him and touched his blue-shadowed jaw. He needed a shave. Man, how she loved his craggy tanned face, a face now totally opened to her. His large hands covered hers and held tight. His eyes met hers. Pleading.

"C'mere," she offered as he often had to her since they'd met. They turned into each other and lay down on his unmade bed.

Then it happened.

Jack O'Neill wept.

Sam wept with him.

She'd not been with a crying man since her mother's death. Then it had been her dad, Jacob and her brother, Mark. This was different. What she felt for Jack couldn't be put into words. It felt deeper than anything she'd ever experienced. She didn't know how long they clung to each other, but half a box of tissues later, Jack fell asleep holding her. His strong arms wrapped around her, his face pressed into her neck, his breath warmed her skin evenly.

For the first time in years, Sam prayed, "Dear God, if, You, exist, give Jack peace?"

He did.

Fin

Please go to next fic: What Hit Him!