A/N: After a long delay due to travel, Campfires, and other commitments, another "embraceable" moment. This one's for Amanda who kept asking for the next story, and thanks to Cags who gave me the prompt a while back. Enjoy. Feedback, as always, if helpful, saved, and answered.

Set following The First Commandment.

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Moving On

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Jack walked slowly down the long sunken cement walkway that ran along the side of the great Academy Chapel, glancing occasionally out as the sun danced across tree-swathed hills edging the cadet area. He checked his watch. Just after six-fifteen. He knew Carter was around, he'd seen her car in the visitor's lot outside of the Chapel when he'd driven by. Taken by a sudden impulse, he's swung his truck into the lot and parked next to her vintage Volvo. Since it was relatively late in the day on a Saturday he didn't think he'd find her in Harmon Hall, the admin building nearest the parking lot. Since she also wasn't in the honor court, he wandered toward the large steel and glass structure of the Academy Chapel.

It wasn't often that he came here, this far back onto the base. The main part of the Academy's grounds, the cadet area, was tucked so far back against the base of the mountain that he simply didn't bother. He hadn't attended school here so had no warm fuzzy memories of the place. To him it was almost a tourist attraction, although he could see the draw when looking through the larger ecumenical Chapel upstairs.

It was the perfect time of day to be here, he thought. The late afternoon summer sunlight lit the modern stained glass of the Chapel's walls and ceiling, giving the room an almost unearthly glow. He'd glanced around the empty Chapel knowing he wouldn't find her up here, but he'd wanted to make sure. Following a hunch he'd walked back down the wide sweeping steps of the Chapel and then continued on down along the lower level to where he was now. He'd been here once before, and if he remembered correctly...yup.

Jack stopped before the wooden door set into the wall. It was already opened slightly and he pushed it the rest of the way, stepping inside to the cool interior. To his immediate left was a small room lit by a single candle, simple black mats laid out along the polished bamboo floor. The Buddhist temple. On his right was the simple elegance of the round Jewish temple, another single lamp hanging just at the front providing the only illumination in that quiet room. Walking further inside, Jack made sure to leave the door open behind him, allowing the afternoon sunlight to fill the hallway with light. Just past the temple was the door to the Catholic chapel and it was there that he was sure he'd find her.

Easing open the heavy door he scanned the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light and finally spotting the golden head of his Second lit by the Presence lamp hanging near the altar. Jack squinted. She was kneeling in the pew, her head bent low over her hands. For a moment he hesitated, unwilling to interrupt her if she was praying. This was probably a bad idea. Jack studied Carter, talking himself out of disturbing her when he noticed her shoulders shaking slightly. Whatever thought he'd had for leaving slipped away as instinct took over. He slipped inside and let the door fall closed behind him.

Once inside, muscle memory took over. He automatically dipped his hand into the holy water and crossed himself, then just as automatically dipped to one knee as he came to the pew in which Carter was kneeling. She looked over at him, her eyes wide with surprise. Jack wasn't certain if the surprise was for his appearance or his apparently knowing what to do when in a Catholic church.

"Sir?" Sam brushed quickly at her cheeks, hoping to hide the evidence of her recent tears. She'd been restless and irritable all day, her first Saturday free following their return and Jonas Hanson's death. After cleaning her little house from top to bottom, she'd spent several fruitless hours trying to write a paper on wormhole theory before giving it up as a lost cause. Even a five-mile run hadn't helped. She'd finally given up and gotten into her car, intending to go into the SGC and lose herself in work. Instead she'd found herself waving her ID at the guard and driving onto the sprawling grounds of the Air Force Academy.

Most people didn't realize just how big the Academy's grounds were. At just over 18-thousand acres, the facility, an Air Force base in its own right, was sprawled against the base of the Rockies. The cadet area, the place Sam had spent the first four years of her higher education, was tucked at the back and only a tiny portion of the larger base. Sam often came out to hike or to ride her bike, but today she just came to...be. After a leisurely drive through the grounds she'd parked in the visitor's lot just above the famous Chapel and wandered where her feet would take her.

They'd taken her here.

Sam realized her CO hadn't spoken, that he was simply sitting beside her and watching her. "Colonel? What are you doing here?" She eased up off of the kneeler and slid onto the well worn seat beside him.

"I was...well, believe it or not, Carter. I was in the neighborhood."

Sam's eyebrows rose. The Academy was northwest of the city of Colorado Springs and the Colonel's house was...Sam frowned. She wasn't really sure just where he lived but she had a feeling it wasn't on the base. Or...was it?

"You...you don't live on the base, do you, Sir?"

O'Neill quirked a smile at her. "Um...no." He leaned back, letting his arms drop over the back of the pew and stretching his neck back. He yawned and looked up at the ceiling. "I needed some things from the BX."

"Oh." Sam fiddled with the worn book in her hands. "The BX isn't..."

"Yeah." O'Neill shrugged. "I was taking the long way off-base and spotted your car." He glanced at the book she was holding and then very gently eased it out of her hands. "This Hanson's Bible?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Hmm."

Sam watched as he opened it, slowly thumbing through the pages. She knew just when he found what she'd written inside of the front cover. She saw his long fingers stop and then gently trace over the words she'd inscribed years before. When he looked up she met his gaze.

"Carter...you doing okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

He gestured toward the book in his hands. "What's going on with this, then?"

"I...it was a gift. For Jonas. He...we dated here. At the Academy. Well, not really. I mean, we weren't allowed to date, per se. You know. But...just after, when I was going on to do my post-graduate work, we dated. Long distance, since I was in England and he was in Japan at the time. He...I'm pretty sure he did it to please Dad, or that's what I always thought. He took the classes and converted to Catholicism. We were going to get married here."

"It was important to you?"

"It was. At one time. Then. Not so much now." Her eyes dropped from his. "He, um...later. He tried to use what was in there to..."

"Control you."

"Yes, Sir." Sam's voice was barely a whisper. "I wish...I wish you hadn't found this, Colonel."

"Wishing won't make it better, Carter. If I had known it would hurt you, I would have left it lost."

Sam sighed and leaned back, realizing as she did so that with O'Neill's arm along the back of the pew she was effectively tucked against his body. She couldn't bring herself to move. She'd had such a rotten week. Sam ducked her head against the tears that threatened, reliving again the moment she'd had Jonas in her sights. Reliving the sickening twist in her gut as he'd spoken to her, slowly walking forward, his eyes never leaving hers, reaching up to take the gun from her nerveless fingers. That memory was followed by the more painful of his fist backhanding her. Unconsciously she reached up to touch her still-healing cheek, a move that didn't go unnoticed by her CO.

"How's the cheek, Sam?"

"It's getting better, Sir. Fraiser put some butterfly bandages on it and says there shouldn't even be a scar."

"Good to know."

They sat together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Sam relaxed deeper into the seat, feeling the effects of the last week catching up with her. Suddenly she was tired. Really, really tired. She started as O'Neill spoke up softly.

"It's getting late, Carter. You heading home?"

"Yes, Sir." Sam slide sideways, following him out of the pew. Together they genuflected before turning to walk back to the door. Just before the small stone basin containing the holy water, O'Neill stopped, resting a hand on Sam's arm.

"Carter."

"Sir?" Sam looked up, weariness in every line of her body now. The anxious and jittery feelings she'd had during the day had left, leaving her drained and emotional. Vulnerable. It really was time for her to go home. She needed to be in her own home.

O'Neill slowly held out the small, tattered Bible. "You want this? Or should I 'lose' it for you?"

Sam said nothing. She dropped her eyes from his and studied the book in his hand. It had once been important to her, the gift she'd given the man she thought she would marry. It had symbolized her acceptance of his commitment to her, to her faith. She'd imagined he would read it often and even think of her as he did so, that the simple act of sharing that faith would bring them closer together. Even then, she now understood, she'd known that their relationship was lacking...something.

"I...could you...it seems so..."

"Carter," O'Neill breathed, his voice soft in the silence of the sacred chamber. "It's okay for you to not want it, you know." He paused, then reached out and lifted her chin. His brown eyes were dark in the dim light of the room. "It's also okay for you to grieve. If nothing else, Jonas Hanson was someone whom you once loved."

Sam bit back a sob. She hadn't been able to cry, not really. Even the small tears she'd shed earlier hadn't felt real. Doctor Fraiser had told her she was in shock, to give it time, but Sam hadn't felt like it. She'd felt...numb. Then anxious. Then...now... The Colonel's words broke something loose in her and Sam felt suddenly overwhelmed with everything she'd wanted to feel before but couldn't.

Tears.

Anger.

Frustration.

Guilt.

Pain.

She closed her eyes and swayed as everything broke over her at once, battering her defenses and nearly bringing her to her knees.

O'Neill dropped the small Bible and it fell to the carpet with a muffled thump as he caught his Captain in his arms. "C'mere," he murmured as she began to sob.

Aware only of the need for something–or someone–solid to which she could hang on, Sam clutched at his arms, not resisting as he pulled her into a tight embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and clung, one hand spasming on his shoulder as her other splayed across the back of his neck, her fingers lost in the soft threads of his hair. She sobbed as he held her, anchoring her to the here and now, piecing her soul back together. She felt his arms squeeze tighter, one hand tucking her head securely under his chin, the other gently sliding up and down her back, chasing away the shivers that quaked through her frame.

"Easy, Carter. Easy. Shh. I've got you. It's okay. It's okay."

O'Neill's soft words worked their magic on her, just as the strength and feel of his arms around her grounded her. Sam slowly stopped crying, realizing eventually that she'd soaked the front of her CO's shirt. As the storm of emotions subsided she felt a flush of embarrassment wash through her. "I...oh, Sir. I'm sorry."

"Carter." O'Neill eased back, his hands still on her arms. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, folded handkerchief. "Here."

"Thanks, Sir." Sam took the soft cloth and sheepishly wiped her face. The handkerchief smelled like him. She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

"Carter."

Still avoiding his gaze, Sam busied herself with wiping her face and getting her breathing under control. Only when he reached again for her elbows did she finally look up.

"Ca– Sam." O'Neill gave her a small smile. "I meant it. It's okay, you know." He gave her elbows a squeeze and stepped back, carefully easing the small Bible to one side with his foot. "And, it's okay to lean on a friend once in a while."

"I..." Sam sighed. "Thank you, Colonel."

"Any time."

Sam absently pocketed O'Neill's handkerchief before dipping her hand into the holy water. She crossed herself and then waited for O'Neill to do the same. Once he had, she stepped outside of the chapel and waited while he secured the door. Together they walked to the outer door. When Sam reached it, however, she was surprised to see the Colonel moving back toward the small chapel. She watched as he took out a pen and scrawled a quick note on one of the small pieces of paper beside the offering bowls. He slid the note under the door of the chapel and quickly returned to her side.

"Ready?"

Giving him a puzzled look, she nodded. They left the lower portion of the Chapel and made their way to the parking lot in silence. It was dark now, and the lights that lit the honor court cast the bronzed statues in an eerie light. Sam unconsciously moved closer to the Colonel, then frowned as she realized what she was doing. She quickly moved to step away from him, only to be stopped when he tugged her closer as they crossed the darkened quad.

"Stay close, Carter. This place gives me the creeps at night."

For the first time in days Sam bit back a small smile. "Yes, Sir."

When they reached their cars, Sam stopped and leaned against her door. She tucked her hands into her pockets, suddenly reluctant to end their time together. Remembering his actions as they left the building she asked him, "Sir? What did you write? On the note?"

"Oh." O'Neill looked down for a moment, then back up at her. He leaned against the passenger door of his truck, mirroring her pose. "I, ah...I left a note for Father. Told him that we...uh...you were donating the Bible that was sitting just inside the door." He peered at her in the gathering darkness. "I just assumed...if you're upset, we can get it back tomorrow."

Sam studied him for a moment, then felt a smile pull across her lips. They hadn't worked together for very long, but the time they had spent together had forged a bond. A closeness. A...something that Sam didn't quite know how to identify it. She knew that before they'd gone to 'rescue' Jonas' team she'd barely had time to come to grips with the fact that she'd singled this man out as her 'mate' when taken over by the Broca virus. Before that he'd rescued her from a Mongolian tribal leader only to let her fight that same leader in a duel to the death. She knew O'Neill was a great team leader, but she was also discovering that he was a great man as well. No, they didn't know each other all that well yet, but he knew enough to help her to say goodbye. To help her to let go.

Warmth flooded through her as she thought back to the hug he'd given her inside the chapel. How safe she'd felt, how...secure...how.... She wanted that again. She knew she shouldn't, knew it wasn't proper, but she couldn't help it. She...she wanted that again. She shook her head.

O'Neill, misinterpreting her movement, sounded apologetic. "Carter? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–"

She interrupted him. "Sir? Did you mean it?"

"Did I...? Yes, we can get it back tomo–"

"No, Sir. Did you mean it that it's okay for me to...that I can..."

"Oh." O'Neill pushed himself off of his truck and opened his arms. "Yes. I meant it."

Sam leaned into his solid form and once again found herself tucked securely under his chin. She breathed deeply and inhaled the warm, slightly spicy scent of his aftershave mixed with the clean smell of his shirt. She squeezed tightly and was gratified to feel him do the same in return. After a long moment she pulled back and offered him a shy, quiet smile. "Thank you, Colonel."

"For...?"

Sam shrugged. "For...taking the long way home today." She opened her car door and slid inside, rolling down the window she could talk to him. "For helping me to let go." As she started the car and began to pull away she leaned out, giving him one last shy smile. "And for being my friend."

As Sam drove off into the night, O'Neill slowly made his way around to the driver's side of his truck, watching as the Volvo's lights disappeared over the hill. "Always," he said softly as he climbed inside, started the engine and left Chapel behind, silhouetted against the starry night sky.

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End.

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Afterword: I'll be rearranging these stories after they've been posted a while so that they reflect the proper episode order.