CHAPTER 2

MOEBIUS CODA

Sam shivered slightly as a cool June breeze came up from the pond and danced around the deck on which she stood. She took a deep breath and inhaled the clear, evening air. There was a slight dampness in it from the nearby water which extended farther than her eyes could make out now that the darkness had completely blackened the woods behind the pond. She closed her eyes and let her breath out slowly. The gentle lapping of the water along the shore was soothing. It had been a great day, overall. She was sorry to see it end.

A creak on the decking behind her alerted her to his presence. She opened her eyes quickly—force of habit. She was so used to being on alert, to not being caught off-guard, it was reflex.

"Where are Daniel and Teal'c?" she asked as Jack neared her. In his hand he carried something—it turned out to be a sweater. He draped it over her shoulder and she was grateful for its warmth. "Thanks," she added, adjusting it ever so slightly. The smell of cedar drifted off it, punctuating the night air.

"You know, you'd think a big guy like Teal'c could deal with a couple of little mosquitoes," Jack jerked his thumb back toward the cabin. "But he says that the idea of insects sucking blood from his body is just too creepy, so he's up there 'kelnoreeming'."

Sam glanced at the log cabin structure and Jack seemed to read her thoughts.

"Don't worry—I told him one," he held up a finger to emphasize the point. "Just one candle. That's it. And I specifically ordered Daniel to leave all that Atlantis crap at home—which means he's in his room nose-deep in some notebook, plotting six ways of talking me into letting him leave for the Pegasus Galaxy on the Daedelus next week."

Which wasn't going to happen, Sam thought to herself, reflecting on Daniel's many rants in her office over not being allowed to go on the Atlantis expedition. While she had sympathized, she was glad Jack had stood his ground and kept Daniel home. It was bad enough to think that Teal'c might soon leave to join the Jaffa High Council. Now that her dad was gone, she realized how much her teammates were her family. And how dangerously close that family was to scattering to the far corners of the universe

She dismissed the melancholy thought and looked back out over the pond.

"I had no idea it was so beautiful here," she said, leaning on the deck rail with her elbows.

"Yeah…well," came Jack's reply. "At least it's quiet. And peaceful,"

She got his meaning all too well.

"Not like the rest of our lives," she agreed, with a slight, humorless laugh. Then she sighed. "No wonder you always want to come here."

In typical Jack fashion, his response was quick:

"Oh yeah. Every once in a while I like to remind myself why it is we keep on trying to save this planet."

"I guess we do get a little too caught up in everything to enjoy the fruits of our labor," admitted Sam. "Occupational hazard."

"Like I said, let's not dwell."

A moment of reflective silence hung between them. Jack seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Sam risked a glance at him and saw his gaze was directed out toward the dark water. His posture was relaxed and for the first time in a long, long time, he seemed not to have the weight of the world—of the galaxy—on his shoulders. He reminded her of the Jack she had met eight years ago, sharing food and "moonshine" with Skaara on her first trip to Abydos. Before the losses. Before the sacrifices. Before the wounds, physical and otherwise. If it weren't for the glints of gray that she could see reflecting the pale light from cabin window—but then again, she couldn't see his eyes. And in spite of his outwardly relaxed stance, she knew that if she could see his eyes they would remain as ever, reserved and wary, careful not to betray whatever it was that lay beneath.

And that was what kept Sam silent, in spite of the fact that she had rehearsed over and over just what she would say, should a moment such as this present itself this weekend. Uncertainty overwhelmed her. What if she had misinterpreted the events of the past weeks? What if she had imagined what she had thought passed between them at her father's bedside? Except for his gesture of staying with her the night of her father's funeral, nothing else had happened since then that eight years of camaraderie wouldn't have accounted for. And always there was the wariness in his eyes, revealing nothing.

So she simply watched the lake too, cursing herself for letting the moment pass, yet too filled with doubt to stop it.

When Jack cleared his throat, Sam jumped, she had been so lost in her own thoughts.

"So…can I ask you a personal question?" he said, his voice quiet and serious. Uncertain what to expect, Sam nodded.

"Anything, sir."

The response was automatic, just like the alertness reflex. She regretted the "sir" the moment it left her lips. She really did have to work on separating Colonel Carter from Samantha Carter. Now would have been a good time.

"Sam..." he said warningly.

"Sorry—Jack. It's…habit." she apologized, shaking her head,

"Yeah, well. Break it, will ya?"

Sam managed a faint smile, an odd nervousness rising in her stomach. Maybe she wasn't going to have to be the one to broach the subject after all.

When she didn't say anything, Jack glanced at her and then back out at the lake.

"Anyway…I was just wondering…why did you call it off with Pete?"

Sam felt her stomach hit the ground as those awful moments at the house flashed through her memory. She still ached with guilt over having allowed her relationship with Pete to go as far as it had. It was not one of the stellar moments of her life.

"Oh…" was all she could think of to say. It took her brain a moment to catch up as she tried to figure out not so much what to say, but why Jack was asking her this in the first place. Was he simply curious or was he groping his way down the same uncertain path she was on, trying to figure out this…whatever it was…between them without actually admitting that it was there?

Part of her desperately wanted to tell Jack exactly why things had gone wrong with Pete. It was the same part of her that had shown up at Jack's place the day Pete had bought the house in the suburbs and started to sow happy little visions of the two of them in a normal sort of life. It was the same part of her that had burned with embarrassment and an unbefore-felt jealousy when she had found Kerry Johnson not only at Jack's house, but obviously comfortable enough there to be rummaging in his cupboards and inviting Sam to join them for dinner.

But another part of her, the part that was Jacob Carter-pride—the part of her that still had doubts left about where she stood with the man standing next to her in the dark—couldn't bring herself to lay it all out in front of him. The certainty she had felt a few days ago—the unspoken exchange that had been the final nail in the coffin of her relationship with Pete—vanished like the mist on the lake. Indecision left her silent.

"I mean…if you don't want to tell me, that's okay…" Jack offered, backing-off a little.

Sam struggled to say something.

"No…it's not that, it's just…I don't know. It wasn't just one thing."

That at least was true. Her breakup with Pete had been the coalescence of a great many factors in her life at that precise time. What had passed between her and Jack had been the tipping point. But she wasn't ready to tell him that just yet.

"Ah," he replied and said no more.

She wondered if he would just leave it there and not press her farther. A part of her hoped he would.

Somewhere on the far side of the pond a creature splashed in the water.

Sam glanced at Jack and saw that once again he seemed lost in his thoughts, apparently willing to accept her rather vague response.

A voice inside prodded her. What was she holding back for, especially now? Wasn't this why she'd accepted the invitation to come fishing in the first place? So that maybe she and Jack could finally say some things that needed to be said? Damn it! He'd even opened the door for her, and she had slammed it right back in his face. She was an idiot! If they couldn't talk about this now, with everything that had just happened, then they would never be able to. It was now or never.

Sam took a deep breath.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said finally.

There was a certain practiced casualness in Jack's voice as he answered: "Sure, why not?"

She turned and faced him. Even in the darkness she could see his face clearly. His eyes met hers, expectantly. Sam wondered again if she could do this. Taking another deep breath, she asked:

"Why did you call it off with Agent Johnson?"

Jack looked only mildly discomfited.

"Ah. Well. I didn't, actually. I mean…I was going to. It's just that she kinda beat me to the punch."

"Oh." Sam turned back to the water. Her thoughts spun. What the hell did that mean? Kerry had broken it off, but Jack had wanted to? How in the world could she interpret that?

Jack, however, seemed willing to help.

"Mmm. She seemed to think I had 'issues'." He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

Sam chuckled to herself.

"Yeah, who doesn't?" she muttered.

"So true," came Jack's answer, in his usual, self-deprecating way. "Nevertheless, it seemed that mine were insurmountable. She did offer a suggestion, however."

Sam couldn't help herself.

"Really? A CIA agent and a psychologist?" She hung her head, instantly regretting her words. The green beast that had risen within her that day at Jack's house had reawakened. "Sorry…"she apologized. "That came out kind of…"

"Catty?" offered Jack. She could hear the grin in his voice even if she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Well…" conceded Sam, half-smiling herself. He had her, and he knew it. She'd let him know that it had mattered to her, and he seemed inordinately pleased with that bit of knowledge.

"So—" he pressed her, seeming to sense that now she might be more willing to talk,. "I'm just curious—did your breaking things off with Pete have anything to do with what you wanted to talk to me about that day you stopped by my house?"

There was no point avoiding it now. They'd started down this path. Might as well see where it led them.

Sam sighed and leaned back over the deck rail to gaze at the pond. Somehow this might be easier if she didn't look directly at him.

"You could say that."

It wasn't much of an answer, but let him read into it what he would.

Jack was leaning on the railing, looking at the water too. She could feel him glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She kept her gaze straight ahead on the blackness at the far side of the pond.

"I don't suppose there's any chance of you and Pete…you know…."

Jack's voice was hesitant.

"Getting back together?" Sam nearly shuddered at the thought. The image of Pete's hurt face as he walked away from her and ripped the "sold" off the for-sale sign in the front yard loomed in before her. He wouldn't. She couldn't. Not with Pete. Never.

"No. I'm afraid I hurt him rather badly," she confessed. "Anyway—I know now that I made the right choice. My dad was right."

"Jacob?" Jack sounded surprised.

Sam finally turned and faced him. This at least was safe ground.

"Yeah," she continued. "He had it figured out from the very beginning. He knew Pete was all wrong. He even tried to tell me when he was dying, but I wouldn't let him." Sam plucked at the sleeve of the sweater, distractedly. " I told him I was happy—I guess I just didn't want him worrying about me."

There was a sense of relief in telling Jack this. She hadn't told anyone about the exchange between herself and her father and it had weighed heavily on her mind. She knew she wasn't the only daughter to ever lie to her father so that he might die with some peace. Still, confessing it to Jack lifted the burden of it a little.

"Good…I mean, it's a good thing you found out before you went—you know--through with it," Jack stammered in the way he did when he found he'd make a blunder and was trying to rectify it.

"Yeah. It is," Sam agreed. It was easier to talk about the break-up itself than the reason why. "It was hard to do. I mean, Pete's a really great guy. But…I don't know. When it was over, this tremendous weight just lifted from my shoulders, even with everything else that was going on."

"So… that afternoon when you stopped by…you wanted to tell me…what?" Jack persisted. He wasn't going to let that go, was he? Sam's heart was racing. Fine. If he was ready to do this, then so was she.

Sam turned and faced him full on.

"Look, Jack.," she began, trying to find the words she had rehearsed . "We both know…"

"I'm retiring, Sam."

He couldn't have stunned her more if he had blasted her with a Zat. A chill went through her that had absolutely nothing to do with the Minnesota night air.

"You're what?" she asked, incredulous, hoping she'd misunderstood him. Jack retiring meant only one thing: he'd be gone. As disconcerting as it had been to lose him from SG-1, at least she had seen him every day, still worked along side of him, even if they no longer traveled through the gate together. But if he retired….

What? What, Sam? she asked herself. What had you been hoping for? That somehow your dad's offer of hope would come true?

Don't let rules stand in your way.

You can still have everything you want.

Because that was the real reason she had broken it off with Pete. Because somehow, in some secret part of herself she had thought that maybe, just maybe there would be a way to be with Jack, in spite of everything that did stand in their way. Because when he had told her he had broken it off with Kerry…she was sure it hadn't just been a coincidence. In time, she had told herself. In time they would figure it out.

Well, that time had just run out.

"I'm retiring," he repeated, airily. "Turned my papers in yesterday. I'll stay on until the end of June. Give the Pentagon time to find a replacement. But July 1st, I'm gone." He made a launching motion with his hand, zooming out toward the darkness.

Sam's heart was pounding. Breathing was…difficult.

"But….", she stammered.

Jack seemed not to notice.

"Actually, it was Kerry's suggestion," he continued. "She thought it might go a long way in helping me resolve some of those issues."

The fingers made quotes in the air again.

Kerry. So he was doing it for her. Sam felt numb all over. How had she ever thought…and here all the time it had been Kerry. She'd been so stupid.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear it. To sound at least coherent.

"I…I don't know what to say. I can't imagine the SGC…"

Jack stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. The ultimate in relaxed while she stood there, her world collapsing around her.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll heave a collective sigh of relief. It'll take at least three months to sort through my backlog of paperwork."

Sam barely heard him. She was still trying to recover enough to not let him know.

"But Jack—the SGC…I mean…you're the.. without you…it's…" her voice trailed off, not knowing where to go

"Hey—it's been my life for the past eight years," he admitted. "Hell. If it weren't for the stargate I probably wouldn't even have a life. But you know, I figure I've given my part for God and country. Now I want to spend the rest of my life doing what I want. With whomever I want."

Jack seemed to wait. It took her a moment to process what he had said. With whomever I want. What did that have to do with Kerry? There wasn't anything keeping the two of them apart. Sure, they'd been trying to keep it quiet but….

It hit her. He didn't mean Kerry at all

Sam understood. And with the absolute joy of that understanding, a horrible realization came over her.

She couldn't let him do it.

He was too valuable to the SGC, too important in keeping the whole program from the hundred and one forces that would bend it to their political wills. Her own resignation from the Air Force she had considered. Jack leaving—it simply was not an option. Even though it shattered everything she had barely allowed herself to hope for, she wouldn't let him to do it. Not for her.

Sam struggled to find a voice, and to keep it steady.

"Jack—you can't. I won't let you give up the SGC for me. You're too important."

He hardly let her get the words out, shaking his head to argue before she even finished.

"I'm tired, Sam," he told her, his voice as earnest as she'd ever heard it. "Leading SG-1 was one thing. It was exciting. It was dangerous. Hell, it was even fun—well, not all of it," he admitted. "I could have done without the snakes in the head. But damn it, Sam, I'm not a desk jockey. Hell, I only took the job in the first place 'cuz I was afraid of what asshole the president would appoint to take Weir's place. Now, instead of doing really cool stuff with you and Daniel and Teal'c, I get to shuffle a bunch of damn papers and wear a hole in the floor of my office until I hear Walter tell me you're coming back through the gate. Oh…and I hate…I really hate listening to Erikkson prattle on about his stupid rocks after every single mission!" He winced, as though just thinking about the young geologist inflicted pain. "The thing is, the joy's gone all out of it, Sam. And now it's just standing in the way the only thing I really want. You."

His eyes locked with hers, and Sam saw the man's soul laid bare before her.

You.

Her ears were pounding so loudly they drowned out the sound of the night creatures. She thought her heart would leap out of her throat. Jack was waiting for her response….

Wasn't this what she wanted? Wasn't this the hope she'd held on to? After all, Anubis was gone. The System Lords were decimated. The Replicators were destroyed. The Jaffa were free. Jack O'Neill had done his part. And who was she to say that he wasn't ready to hang up his wings.

Except that she knew Jack too well. Maybe even better than he knew himself. And he wasn't ready for this. Not yet.

She wouldn't let him do it. For his sake, she couldn't.

"Jack…" she began, her heart breaking as she tried to find the words. He refused to let them come.

"Tell me you don't feel the same way," he challenged her quietly.

Sam looked up into his eyes and saw that the barrier was gone. He wasn't hiding anything anymore—everything he felt was laid out as plainly as he could manage.

"God! I do…!" she admitted, fervently. "I have…! It's just that …"

"It's just that what?" He moved closer to her, his voice quiet and low. She shook her head; she was quickly running out of reasons. His physical nearness made it all the more difficult to think straight. She hugged herself, trying to stop the shivering that was beginning to overtake her.

"The SGC needs you…" she said, half-heartedly now.

"They'll find someone else. Nature and the military abhor a vacuum, you know."

She smiled. He was close. Dangerously close.

"You'll hate retirement," she tried one more time, quite unconvincingly.

Jack took her by her arms and drew her closer to him. It was useless to resist. His voice was so quiet it was barely above a whisper.

"I'll keep busy. My to-do list is about a hundred miles long."

He pulled her even closer. She let him.

"I know, but…"

She couldn't help it. Her arms slid around his neck. She felt the sweater slip to the ground behind her feet, but she no longer needed it. The evening was warming up quickly. Jack brought her closer still. She could smell the woodsmoke from the grill lingering about him. A million things she wanted to say, to ask, to clarify popped into her head .

"Sam…" Jack whispered, closer than ever. "Sometimes a person can talk a subject to death."

Damn! Would she ever stop shivering? She wasn't actually…nervous? After all this time?

"I can't help it," she stammered, "I just…"

His lips were so close to hers that she could feel their warmth.

"Sam…" he repeated, his lips brushing hers. "Shut up.."

She did as he asked.

Any doubts she had left vanished in the next instant. Not when Jack was holding her, kissing her, showing her, in no uncertain terms, just what she meant to him. Eight years of hidden feelings erupted. This was not the time to hold back. Not anymore. Maybe Jacob was right: she could have everything she wanted. And what she wanted most, was Jack.

It was time to let him know.

"Oh God," she gasped breathlessly, when at last they acknowledged their need for air. She leaned her forehead against his, her chest heaving.

"What's wrong?" he asked in alarm, his breath coming in short bursts as well.

Joy flooded her. Any doubts she'd had were long gone. She looked up at Jack and grinned.

"Nothing…I just can't believe… I mean, I never thought we'd…."

"Sam…" Jack interrupted, as he usually did when he sensed she was about to go on and on with something he didn't want or need to hear.

"Jack?"

He kissed her again, slowly, deeply. Passionately.

"Save your breath."