Resolution
by Bren Ren
SUMMARY/SPOILERS: CHIMERA! Yes, folks, I fixed it again. Very simple fix, just rewrote the last scene. I like this version much better than what played out last year…
Resolution
Sam walked up the ramp at the front entrance into St Mary's Hospital. She had almost reached the doors, her mind a million miles away, when she bumped into someone coming up the stairs. She stopped sharp and looked up, her eyes popping out a bit as she registered the presence of one Colonel Jack O'Neill.
"Sir, I'm sorry!" She turned her eyes, downcast her glance.
"No sweat, Carter." One of his hands had snaked out to grasp her elbow, and for some reason hadn't yet let go. "Get well gift for the boyfriend?" The hand attached to said elbow was holding a small paper bag.
Sam looked down at the bag and frowned. "No, sir. More like… a farewell gift." Jack lifted an eyebrow, saying nothing. Sam nodded towards the doorway, and they entered the facility. "So you're here because…"
"National security, top-secret-under-penalty-of-death spiel."
Sam choked back a snort. "Not sure that's gonna do much good, Sir." He turned his head to glance sidelong towards her. There was a marked question in his eyes, but he left it unspoken. Sam waited until they were alone in the elevator before continuing.
"It's not just the stakeout, sir. He had a background check run on me through a friend of his in the FBI. General Hammond told me about it just before we left for the stakeout. Sir, he was supposed to be a friend of my brother's. He knew I was in the Air Force, and he knew my work was classified. But still, he tried to go behind my back and find out anyway."
Jack had a feeling the guy was lucky he was in the hospital; else Sam would probably be kicking his ass sixteen ways to Sunday. He had rarely seen Carter so infuriated. Sam continued her intense rant without dropping a beat. "When that didn't work, he somehow found out we would be at Daniel's house, he executed a stakeout of our stakeout, crashed it, and nearly got himself killed in the process."
"Could have gotten you killed." Jack's voice was dark and hushed.
"Or you." For a long moment they stood staring at each other, words, thoughts, feelings silently passing back and forth between them.
Sam shook her head sadly. "You know, I really thought he might last a while." She sighed. "Still, I suppose I should count my blessings. After all, he isn't dead."
Jack didn't bite back the snort. "So does that mean Carter's Black Widow Curse has finally been broken?"
Sam grimaced, even though a giggle slipped past her lips. "Yeah, I guess I'm safe to date now."
Jack treated her to a leering grin, and even a waggle of the O'Neill brow for good measure. "So… what do you say to a barbeque at Chez O'Neill?" At her startled expression, he grinned broader than ever. "Or maybe…. A weekend fishing in Minnesota with yours truly?" To both his delight and slight embarrassment, she burst out laughing.
"Sir—" she gasped out between chuckles, "Do you—really think She was quite the picture, nearly doubled over in tearful laughter, her head shaking back and forth in denial.
Jack covered his mouth with one hand, trying not to encourage her hysterics further, but thoroughly enjoying her merriment. After a long while, she regained most of her composure, and stood to face Jack directly. He felt his heart melting as he took in her moist eyes, flushed cheeks, that adorable smile. He never before wanted so badly to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Sir. The timing, however…" She shook her head slowly. Jack nodded his understanding. She smiled softly, her eyes glowing in a completely un-Goa'uld-like manner. "One of these days…" Her voice was so quiet he almost missed it. By the time his brain fully registered the hinted promise, the lift came to a halt, the doors opening with a loud chime. So much for saved by the bell.
Sam stepped out first, and then waited for Jack in the hallway. "Sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to see him first."
"Anxious to get it over with?"
"A bit. And… when you talk with him, would you mind, maybe, giving a little extra emphasis on the 'don't contact anyone involved with this operation ever' part—especially the consequences of such action."
"Expecting trouble?"
"He doesn't exactly have a reputation for taking 'no' for an answer." Jack nodded his acquiescence. "Thank you, sir." They turned and walked down the hall together in even, matching steps.
"So… maybe a drink at Maloney's when we're done here?"
"You're absolutely incorrigible, Sir."
"Is that a yes, or a no?"
"It's a …yes. That sounds… perfect."
Fini
Love and hot fudge,
Bren Ren