AMOR CAECUS EST
Summary: Sam and Jack met before that fateful day in the briefing room…..Why is it that they don't remember?
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters are mine. But, the story is. But, if TBTP want to borrow some ideas, I'm not against it, at all.
Pairings: Like you don't know. Sam & Jack, possibly Janet & Daniel (btw, Janet is alive in my little world - I'm slightly in denial about the whole "Heroes" segment)
A/N: Words in italics indicate thought, and will have '….' around them.
A/N2: I take have no clue about military stuff, as was fairly evident in the last chapter. So, no flames please…I am also trying to keep dates the same, per the actors birthdates. And, we're skipping several years – and will most likely continue to do so.
August 15th, 1993
Sam is 28, Jack is 43
A blue car was approaching the Pentagon – fast, and slightly recklessly. As it neared, the driver could be seen, frantically driving and putting makeup on, at the same time, while still trying to maneuver the small car. It screeched to a halt at the security checkpoint, and the guard on duty tried to hide her smile. The woman, while impeccably dressed, had obviously not been paying attention to her lipstick. As the guard waited, the woman searched frantically through her purse, trying in vain to find her pass that would allow her clearance into the Pentagon.
"Ah ha!" The woman exclaimed, pulling off the receipt that was currently attached to her badge. She handed the guard the badge, and stuffed the recently emptied contents of her purse back into the small bag, and waited while the guard finished checking her badge.
As the woman pulled away from the station, she noticed a sticky note attached to the laminated paper. "Check your lipstick." it said. The woman swung into a parking spot, and quickly flipped the mirror down. Muttering under her breath, she grabbed a tissue, and hurriedly wiped the Marilyn Monroe-esque red lipstick from her lips. She grabbed her purse, her badge, and then flew into the waiting elevator, mashing the button for the fourth floor. She had exactly three and a half minutes until her meeting started.
Exactly three and a half minutes later
The woman flew into the room, apologizing profusely to the woman waiting at the table.
"Sam, calm down darling, it's just a meeting." Catherine Langford said.
"It's not just any meeting, Catherine! This is the biggest meeting yet!" Sam exclaimed, as she threw her overstuffed bag on the table, and slumped into a seat. It would figure, she thought, that she was only the second person there, AND had just barely been on time.
Catherine shook her head. Sam was the hardest working, most dedicated, and overbearingly organized person she had ever met – at work. But, it appeared that if you took the work away, she was completely unorganized, and had an awful tendency to throw her alarm clock off the bedside table, as she frequently explained to Catherine, in apology for being late. Just then a man walked in. He was not tall, but not short – 5'10" Catherine guessed. And, he had the shiniest head that she had ever seen.
"Brigadier General George Hammond." He said in greeting, extending his hand toward the women. Catherine introduced herself, and Sam gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. At Catherine's odd look, Sam explained herself.
"Uncle George and I have known each other forever – he was one of my dad's closest friends."
"Ahh," said Catherine, "That would explain the slightly un-military greeting." Sam looked at her sheepishly.
"Yes, well, he called yesterday and said he would be here. We haven't seen each other in ages." She said.
At that moment, a taller, more distinguished man walked in. Sam eyed him warily. He seemed familiar, though she couldn't place him at all.
He saluted as he entered, and Hammond returned the salute, before shaking his hand heartily.
"It's good to see you again, sir," The man said.
"Same to you, Jack, same to you. I was glad to here that you were back from the forces; for good now?" Hammond asked.
"Well sir," the man replied, "It's hard to say. But I heard that today's meeting was concerning that exact question."
As if seeing them for the first time, the man's eyebrows raised slightly.
"Sorry for not introducing myself, ma'am, and," he squinted to look at Sam's insignia's, "Lieutenant." He said.
"No worries at all." Catherine replied, "I'm Catherine Langford." She then glanced at Sam, who had the look on her face of someone far off in thought. Catherine lightly prodded her with her elbow. As if coming out of a trance, Sam's eyes snapped back to reality, and she snapped off a salute.
"Lieutenant Carter, sir." She said, as a way of introducing herself.
"At ease, Lieutenant." He replied, giving her the once-over, taking in her haphazardly tucked in uniform, the mess of papers crowding the table in front of her, and the non-regulation hair flowing down her shoulders and back. He looked away indifferently, and Sam felt a pang of rejection. 'How is that possible?' She wondered, 'I just met the man two minutes ago.' Yet, she had a nagging sensation that she had seen him before. She just wished she could remember when. When at last the Pentagon advisor arrived – half an hour late, Sam noted – she still could not remember where she had seen him before. During that half hour, as well, Jack had chosen to ignore the looks he was getting from the woman. For some reason, that he could not explain, he knew her. And he knew that she had the same feeling. But, he soon engrossed himself in a conversation with George Hammond, and they were in the middle of a heated argument about the better hockey team when the advisor arrived, effectively ending their comical dialogue.
Two hours, twelve minutes, and forty-two seconds later
Jack had lost concentration after the first hour. The Pentagon, Hammond, Catherine, and the Lieutenant, whose name he had forgotten, all wanted to move him to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, for a stay of upward of two years. His favorite part was the purpose of the move - to work in the unofficial "Deep Space Telemetry" unit of the Air Force. At first the idea was amusing, to Jack. Play with telescopes, and get paid. It sounded like a great idea to him, until he learned that there were no telescopes when you were 27 levels under a mountain, in an abandoned missile silo. But, apparently he had no choice in the matter, so he tuned out. Someone would tell him later. When the meeting finally ended, Jack bolted from the room. Sam collected her stuff hurriedly, and tried to catch him, but with out any luck. She sighed, frustrated. It would take her forever to fall asleep tonight; because she knew that she would be up, trying to place the man's face.
That afternoon, Jack's house
Jack got out of the car, and walked up the cobbled steps, opening the front door with one hand, balancing the mail, his coffee cup, and the jacket in the other. What he found was not a pretty sight. Sarah was sitting on the couch, with puffy eyes, holding an empty box of tissue.
"Sarah, what's wrong?" He asked, dropping what he was carrying, and stepping over to the couch.
"Who is she?" Sarah asked, in a monotone, I've- been- crying voice.
"What do you mean?" He asked, baffled by the question.
"I found this today, while I was looking through your drawer for a pair of socks." She said, handing him a satin case, with an intricately carven bracelet inside.
"What? You thought…Sarah, you….WHAT!" Jack exclaimed, jumping up from where he had settled.
"You thought I was having an affair?" He yelled, whirling to look at her.
"Jack, I didn't know what to think. I found this, you've been gone so much, and I've gotten calls from restaurants confirming reservations for two, under Jack O'Neill. What did you want me to think?" She asked, her voice breaking under the tears.
"Sarah, I told you, I've been at the Pentagon in meetings all month. The reservations were supposed to be for us –"he paused, at the disbelief showing on her face.
"No, honestly, they were. I wanted to take you somewhere – kept trying, but I always got held back, or you went somewhere, or Charlie was sick…." His trailed off, looking earnestly at her.
"You have to believe me. And the bracelet is something that fell out of a cadet's bag, when I was flying transports years ago." At that, Sarah snorted.
"Jack, please, transports?" He nodded.
"It was right after Charlie was born, and I had taken some leave from the forces, but didn't want to just quit, remember?"
Sarah finally relented, looking at him.
"Alright, I believe you." She said.
"Really?" He asked, "That was quick."
She shot him a look, and he dramatically gulped. She giggled, and stood, wrapping her arms around him.
"Let's go find Charlie," she said, "He'll want to see you before he goes to batting practice."
They walked outside, pausing to hug once more, the heat basking down on them from the warm sun.
"BANG!!!"