Written for round two of the sjficathon over at livejournal. Written for crazed turkey who wanted "A decent Threads fic that doesn't make Pete look like the bad guy/rapist/wife beater"
Beta-ed by JTBJAB, who is utterly fabulous for doing so since she's not a Stargate fanfic writer.
Samantha Carter sat in her lab, contemplating just what she could fill into the patiently waiting box. A pen sat poised in her hand, a million thoughts rushing through her mind.
Personal reasons, she considered writing, but she felt it would be far too obvious. If nothing else, it was the cheat's way out of it and she usually tried to avoid the cheat's way. The last eight years had taught her that taking the easy way out of things usually meant having to go back and do the same thing three times.
She only wanted to have to sign this form once. For a moment, she considered signing it with the truth. Only it wouldn't get her transferred, it would get her fired.
"Hey Sam," a voice called her back from the form and she looked up, blinking. Daniel stood before her, hands jammed into his pocket and looking slightly out of ease. But then again, he often did. "Whatcha up to?"
Leaving it unsigned, Sam slipped the form into her desk drawer. "Just filling out some requisition forms for the General," she lied, closing the drawer and hoping that Daniel would just leave it at that.
"Right," he drawled in a disbelieving tone. But for once, he decided not to push, instead inquiring about Mark and his kids.
Sam choked on a laugh. Mark's stay had been nothing if not awkward. It was wonderful to have your brother fly over just to tell him that he was too late, not only had just broken up with the friend he set her up with, but his father was dead. She couldn't help but vocalise a wonder about which had hurt more.
Daniel stared for several seconds before she realised her mistake and backed up a few steps.
"I… uh… I broke it off with Pete," she said quietly.
The look she received was curious, but for once not prying. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
Willing herself not to cry (she'd promised herself not to shed a tear over this), she looked away. "I'll be fine," she forced out.
She heard a shuffle. "Well, ah, I'll be here when you need to talk."
He left the room, leaving Sam to chuckle quietly over his use of the word 'when'. Choosing to ignore the form awaiting her signature, she turned her mind to other works.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn't until hours later, when she was preparing to leave the base that she remembered the form. Deciding to fish it out before she forgot about it, she opened the drawer.
Surprisingly, she's thrown it into the same drawer as where she had stowed the ring that Pete had given her. Plucking out both items, she sat them on her bench and stared, wondering just how closely the two were related. Eventually she came to the realisation that she probably should give Pete the ring back. There was no point in keeping it, in reminding herself of the opportunity of a life that she threw away. Pete might as well get something back from her – she had hardly given him anything throughout their relationship aside from secrets to keep.
Biting her lip, she started at the phone sitting on her desk. Once she might have suspected that it would have been Pete who would make the first attempt at contact if they ever fought, if they ever broke up. But looking at the ring, she thought that maybe she would just have to defy her own thoughts and make the effort. He deserved it.
Checking that it wasn't too late, she picked up the phone and dialled for an outside line before dialling Pete's cell phone number.
Surprisingly, he picked up on the second ring with a casual "Hi".
"P-Pete," she said, feeling all the fool for the slight stutter. "It's Sam."
His voice dropped a bit as he answered her. "Hey Sam, how you doing?"
"Yeah, not too bad thanks, how about yourself?" she asked, hating how it felt so stilted to talk to him. Maybe she should have waited, maybe it was too soon. Maybe she should have waited for him to call her.
"I'm not too bad, thanks," he replied. "I was actually going to give you a call pretty soon."
"You were?" Sam might have tried to deny the tiny skip somewhere in her chest when he said that, but found that there was no point lying to herself. She did miss him.
"Yeah," he repeated. "I found a couple of things lying around here that are yours, thought you might want them back."
"Ah, okay," she responded, her eyes falling on the small black box that sat on her desk. "I was calling about the exact same thing. I, uh, have some things that you might want back."
"Listen, um, I was also thinking," he said slowly. Sam both anticipated and dreaded his next words. What if he did want to get back together? Part of her was almost tempted, while the rest of her knew exactly what kind of disaster that would cause. But she was done waiting and it seemed like once again she was too late anyway.
"The house I… you know," Pete started. "It hasn't been officially put back on the market yet. I was wondering… do you want it? We could have it signed in your name. I'd let you keep the deposit."
The thought made Sam's throat close over and she found herself battling tears once more. "Oh, Pete," she whispered, her eyes falling on the form before her. "I'm moving out of town." The words were out of her mouth before she could think about them, shocking her.
"Oh." The silence rang loudly, causing Sam to bite her tongue. But before he said anything, he spoke again. "So I suppose we should definitely exchange stuff sometime soon, right? How about tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow night sounds fine," she replied without thinking and yet knowing it would be. What else would she have to do? "Seven o'clock?"
Something moved out of the corner of her vision and she looked up in time to see General O'Neill enter her lab. Just what she needed right now. Listening to Pete's reply, she tucked the form back into her drawer, hoping he was too far away to see what it had been.
"I'll come by your house then," Pete told her. "Seven o'clock."
"Right," she replied, watching as the General pretended to be interested in one of the blinking lights. Well, she was fairly sure that he was pretending. "I'll see you then."
After a quiet goodbye, she hung up and looked up at the General again. It was almost strange to see him out of his office these days. He had hardly emerged from there since her father's funeral, constantly talking on the phone about one important issue or another.
Now though, he was standing in her doorway and looking at her, one eyebrow raised in question.
"Pete, sir," she said by way of explanation.
"Huh," he replied, an odd look crossing his face. Before she could say anything more, he turned and left the room.
She realised that she hadn't told him about Pete either. She wondered if Daniel had.
Then she remembered. Who was she kidding? It didn't matter. She tried to blame the hurt she felt on the conversation she'd just had with Pete.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two days later found Sam once more staring at the form as it sat on the desk before her. Sections were still blank, the bottom still waiting on her signature.
Her meeting with Pete the evening before hadn't been as bad as she might have expected. It was nothing if not polite. He didn't even inquire as to why she was moving out of town, or where she was going. They only saw each other for three minutes, standing on her porch with him avoiding looking her in the eye. He handed over her clothing and she gave him his ring, the small box disappearing into his jacket as if she had never had it.
When he had left, he had looked at her once with a sad smile, wished her the best of luck with whatever top secret thing she was moving on to, and left quietly. Sam was convinced she'd feel the ache it caused for a long time.
Thinking of Pete's face, and of another, her pen touched the paper and before she could stop herself, she filled out of the rest of the form, slipped it into a plain folder and made her way to the General's office, trying not to picture what his reaction would be. If he had one.
He was on the phone again, she noticed, though she was less than surprised. After everything that had happened in the past few weeks, she almost expected nothing less. It hurt to realise that she missed him. Missed seeing him in her lab, missed having lunch with him. Then again, it seemed like everything hurt her at the moment. Unconsciously, her fingers gripped the folder a little tighter.
After a moment, she knocked and he waved her in, telling whoever was on the phone to "just get the damn thing done for crying out loud!" before hanging up.
"Sorry if this isn't a good time, General," Carter apologised, standing at attention before his desk.
He waved a hand dismissively. "Never a better time than the present, Carter," he stated, causing her to wrinkle her brow slightly. "What have you got for me?"
"Just a form that I'd appreciate if you could sign." She handed over the folder before she could fully convince herself to run out the door with it, tear it into pieces and never think about it again. Looking at the man before her, she wondered if she really could do this. It didn't seem fair.
General O'Neill gave her a look as he took the form as if trying to work out what it could be before actually opening. When he did open it, his face become unreadable.
Silence fell over them for a few minutes before he looked up.
"Carter…" he said, his eyes full of something. She refused to look any longer, shifting her line of vision to the bookcase behind him, not trusting herself to speak.
They stayed that way for a few moments longer before he closed the folder and handed it back to her. "I can't sign this, Carter," he said.
Shock forced her to look down at him as he sat behind the desk. She remembered another commander who sat there. She'd never once compared the two, but now she couldn't help but wonder if Hammond would have let her do this.
"Sir-" she began to protest, but he cut her off.
"I can't do it, Carter," he repeated, more firmly. "I'm sorry."
No, you're not, she almost bit out. Instead she remained silent, training her eyes on the shelving once again.
After a moment, he sighed. "Dismissed, Carter."
She turned and left the room. She waited until she'd closed the door before she lost her perfect military stance, feeling her heart beating as she clutched the form to her desk. Once again willing herself not to cry, she made her way down to the corridor in search of Daniel.
She decided that did need to talk.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Why, Sam?" Daniel asked, his eyes roving over the form she had placed in front of him. "Why are you requesting a transfer?"
"The exact same reason you're going to Atlantis," she responded, poking a spoon into the blue jello that sat in front of her. "The same reason Teal'c's going to Dakara."
"That's different," Daniel said, his brow knitting. "Those are things that we have-"
"Have to do," she answered with him. "Trust me, Daniel. You guys need to do those things, I need to do this. You can't move on and expect me to stay the same."
They eyed each other a moment, knowing exactly what was going to be said, but neither one of them daring. Finally, Daniel cracked. "What about Jack?" he asked quietly.
Sam snorted and looked away, holding the spoon precariously. "He's already moved on, becoming a General. He moved on before any of us. He just doesn't want to let go."
"Has he seen this yet?" Daniel asked.
She sighed now, rolling her head in a vain attempt to release some of the tension that was building up in her neck. "Yes, he has," she finally answered, dropping back to look at the table again. "I took it to him just before. He refuses to sign it."
"Hmmm…" Daniel looked thoughtful but she chose not to take any notice.
"He didn't even ask why, he didn't even really read it!" Sam exclaimed, feeling some of her pain bubble into anger. "He just realised what it was and told me that he couldn't sign it. He wants to keep me here, like he fought to keep you and Teal'c here. Now he won't let me go and it's not fair."
"Does he know about what happened with Pete?" Daniel asked, wording the sentence carefully.
Once again, Sam snorted. "No. He doesn't want to know, he doesn't care."
"No, Sam," Daniel answered. "Jack just doesn't know how to ask."
"Ask me what?" Sam asked. "Why I want to transfer? Why should he ask? It's all written down. Cassie's going away for university and I want to be with her. Besides that, I want to sit down and take some time and study for once, not to have to leave a good experiment every few seconds because I've got to go and save the world or something!"
Unsurprisingly, Daniel didn't seem the least bit taken back by her rant. "And you deserve that," he told her quietly. "But maybe this isn't just about… that. Maybe it's finally about something more?"
Sam's head snapped up she met Daniel's eyes, reading everything she thought he was saying. "Well, it can't be about that," she snapped. "Believe me, I know." He gave her a confused glace and once more she found herself backing up a few steps to explain things to Daniel. "He's been seeing Kerry Johnson, that CIA agent who's helping round up the rest of the rouge agents."
It frustrated Sam that Daniel just nodded, accepting this piece of news as if it didn't surprise him, just instead took it in with a slow nod. "Maybe you should try again tomorrow?" he asked gently. "Ask him why he can't sign it?" he stood up from the table, picking up the folder he'd bought along to their impromptu meal. "And maybe you should have another think about this. Maybe there's another reason you want to do this."
Watching him leave, Sam decided that talking hadn't really made her feel any better.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the fact that talking to him hadn't made her feel any better, Sam did try and submit the form again the following day. She filled it all out again, and wrote a slightly more concise reason as to why she wanted to make such a shift right now. Screwing up her courage, she walked through the briefing room, seeing that for once General O'Neill wasn't on the phone, but pretending to study something on his desk.
When she knocked on the door, he seemed almost happy for the distraction, though Sam convinced herself that his face had fell once he realised just who was providing the distraction.
"Carter," he greeted, a wary look in his eyes. "What can I do for you today?"
Her eyes meeting his in a fashion that some might call insubordinate, she handed over the folder, the exact some one she had used yesterday. "I would really appreciate it if you could please sign this form for me," she stated before looking up at the wall once more. She didn't really want to see his reaction.
She waited while he read the form, wondering if he really do take in what he was seeing; really did examine her reason for leaving and wonder if it was something more. He was silent for a few moments before he closed the folder and informed her once more in a quiet tone: "I told you the other day. I can't sign it, Carter."
"But sir-" she tried to protest, but she was once again shut off.
"I'm sorry, Carter, it can't be done." He heaved a sigh and Sam looked down at him, realising then just how deep the circles under his eyes really were, how far the black bags really did stand out.
She swallowed and looked away, not willing to say anything.
"Look…" he started slowly. "We'll talk this through. Come back in a few days and you might be able to get that form signed."
Might? The word echoed in her mind dangerously. Fearing what might come out of her mouth if she tried to speak, she kept quiet, hoping not to cry. Instead she stood, waiting to be dismissed.
When she left, she didn't even bother to take the form, wondering if it would help at all if she wrote that he was partly the reason she needed to move. Would he sign it then?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
It seemed like it was another few days before anyone even saw General O'Neill emerge from his office and that was just to meet some "important guests". For once, Sam wasn't interested in what was happening, she figured that there was just some visiting General and since SG-1 was disbanding, they weren't needed. Tapping at her keypad idly she decided it was a bad decision to examine how she felt about that.
Instead she wondered if he was sleeping.
It was early evening and she was preparing to leave when she heard some knock at her door. She looked up, surprised to see General O'Neill standing in her door wearing his dress blues, looking sharp, yet so tired.
"Carter," he started, an odd look crossing over his face as he watched her.
"Sir!" she sat up a little straighter. "Is there something going on, sir?" she asked, looking over his uniform.
Another odd look crossed his face again and he looked down at himself, touching the uniform as if only just realising what he was wearing. Finally, he looked back up at her. "Uh, no," he said thoughtfully. "It's all taken care of. I just wanted you to know that… well…" he held out his hand and Sam saw a plain folder. Her breath caught and her eyes followed as he placed it on the desk. "It's signed," he confirmed.
"Sir, thank-"
"No, don't," he cut her off. "I'm going to get changed. I'll, um, see you later."
She sat and watched him leave, almost too afraid to open the folder. Instead she picked it up, tucked it into her laptop bag and left for the day.
------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn't until later that evening that it started to sink in.
She was leaving the SGC.
In a moment of panic, she rang Daniel. "I'm leaving," she blurted out.
There was a moment's silence on the other end of the phone. "I know," he finally replied. "Jack told me you handed the form in, I heard he got it signed."
"What do you mean he got it signed?" she asked slowly, eyeing her briefcase.
Daniel was silent again for a while, as if weighing what to say, but Sam already had a fair idea of what it might be.
"Jack's leaving too."
------------------------------------------------------------
Sam was sitting on the couch, folder open in her lap as she read and re-read every single detail on the form as though something might change suddenly. As if the signature at the bottom would read a different name.
But when the doorbell rang, it was still exactly the same.
She answered the door, knowing exactly who was on the other side and wondering how he was going to explain what was happening.
Cold thoughts washed through her, making her burn with anger and jealousy. Did this have something to do with Kerry Johnson?
Steeling herself, she opened the front door and all she could think about was how tired he looked.
"Carter," he greeted her cordially.
"Why did General Hank Landry sign my form?" she asked in greeting. When he didn't answer straight away, he did so for him. "You're leaving the SGC," she stated bluntly.
Jack O'Neill finally looked her straight in the eye, his eyes piercing. "So are you."
Unable to argue, she invited him into the house. He stood rather uncomfortably in the lounge while she settled on the couch next to the open folder.
"So why are you leaving?" she asked quietly, looking up at him.
"Daniel told me that you broke up with Pete," he told her, his expression unreadable and his gaze fixed on open kitchen door. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why didn't you tell me about Agent Johnson?" she snapped back before she could think about it.
"I didn't realise that anything was going on until it was too late."
Sam desperately wanted to make a crack about military training, but held her tongue, knowing it would lighten the mood. Instead she stayed silent once more, looking away and letting him talk.
"It doesn't matter now," he waved his hand dismissively before returning it to it's place in his pants pocket. "Her and I are over, you're going to Area 51 and I'm going to Washington." Her head snapped up. Washington? He shrugged. "Hammond's retiring and I'm getting promoted to take over his position. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"What about the SGC?" she asked.
"What about it, Carter?" he responded. "SG-1 has already broken up, Teal'c and Daniel are moving else where. The only reason I had to stay was the exact reason I was leaving. But now you're leaving too and I'm starting to realise that I, once again, didn't realise until it was too late."
"You were leaving because of me?" she asked, watching him as he moved about the room as though agitated.
"Yes. No. I don't know. I was going to retire, but with Pete around I thought it might have just been easier to leave. It just seemed… right."
"Pete's gone…" she confirmed, looking away struggling to fight against the rush of emotions rising up in her. It was overwhelming to the point she thought she might be sick. It was all she could do not to lean over, put her head between her knees and remind herself to breathe.
"So's Kerry," he added quietly. "And my status as your CO."
She could feel the weight of his gaze on her but tried not to look at him, afraid she'd spill everything, every thought she's ever had about him, even the nasty ones from the past few days. Finally though she gave in and looked over at him, his gaze just as piercing as always.
"So what now?" he asked.
------------------------------------------------------------
They spent the night sitting on her couch and talking, weighing up options, beers in their hands and shoulders touching. They talked almost everything, what they had wanted from their lives and the mistakes they had made in the past.
They didn't talk about what might have changed with them, nor did they make any declarations about the other.
Sam honestly didn't expect anything. Jack's announcement that he had agreed to leave the SGC because of her had blown her away and reaffirmed her belief that one could never guess what this man was going to do next. But as clichéd as it sounded, she really wanted to be there for whatever might happen next to see what surprises he could pull out of his bag.
It just seemed a pity that she would have to do it from the other side of the country. But she supposed that it would be a welcome from being in the same place yet so distant.
It was well past two in the morning when he finally slung his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer, pressing his face into her hair.
"What should we do now?" he asked.
"Aside from sleep?" she replied in a hushed voice, enjoying the warmth of curling up next to him.
His laughter was a huff and his fingers drew light circles on her arm. "Aside from sleep," he agreed.
She thought about it for so long that she almost fell asleep. And when she did answer, she thought he might have already been asleep had it not been the quiet, if not surprised, chuckled agreement before he pulled her down to lay on the couch with him in preparation for sleep.
"Fishing. Yeah, I like fishing."