Again, I would like to say: thank you for the reviews!
Here's the fourth chapter. I hoped to update sooner, but RL said no. Again: Thanks for waiting and sticking with the story!
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Gone Fishing. Back in a Year.
- The Ides of March.
Jack's head hurt. It was pounding and stabbing and somewhere in the back, something was throbbing. He wasn't fully awake yet, but a tiny voice was singing that it wouldn't be a good day. He let out a grunt as he opened his eyes. There was something about this day. Something… Sam. He shot up and regretted that action immediately. He closed his eyes and waited for the stabbing pain in his head to go down, while flinching because his neighbour decided to slam his door at the same time. As Jack made a mental note to kill him, he heard the almost mocking lines of one of the Sinatra Singer's favourite songs die down.
''…know one thing: Each time I find myself, flat on my face, I pick myself up and get back in the race. That's life. I tell ya, I can't deny it, I thought of quittin' baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it…''
He really disliked that man.
It took him half an hour to get ready for the day, half of it was spend on getting up. He turned on the TV and tried to listen to the news, but it didn't register. It was going to snow, though. Jack looked at the bottle of beer that was still standing on the table. Substitute for food, inspirational source for goodbye letters and excellent when mixed with eggs. One bottle of beer on the table. You'll get it back. Did he put it there last night? Did she? He couldn't remember still having a full bottle… He had a headache. And the ringing didn't make it any better. Sharp, irritating ringing, coming from… the phone. Oh.
Jack picked up and knew he sounded annoyed. ''What?'' He listened as Daniel tried to come up with a diplomatic reason to call and check up on him. ''Daniel, we're not in the same time zone, so one of us must have his timing screwed up.'' He listened again. ''Washington? What are you doing in…'' Daniel cut him off and babbled on about meetings and Atlantis and briefings and memo's. ''No, I didn't read those. I'm not working.''. Jack sighed. ''Yes, I do realise it's a year ago today. And no, I don't need to talk about…'' He was cut off again. Not good. ''Fine. Drinks, I'll be there.'' He hung up and wondered what Daniel knew. At least he could ask him face to face.
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He started to feel better and he figured that with all this time on his hands, he might as well look at one of Sam's files. He opened the one that said ''March'' and wondered if she had really sat down once a month to leave Jack a message, or that these came in bulk. Not that he cared, as long as the messages kept coming. This time, it was a picture. One of them. SG-1. All dressed up for a party. Probably taken in March, as the filename said, but he didn't quite remember.
The image showed Teal'c and Daniel standing next to each other, smiling to the camera. The first was holding up a glass of champagne that he wasn't going to drink while Daniel's glass showed that he thought differently about the destiny of the drink. Next to them, there had been a small table with a stack of wrapped presents, which made Jack remember that it had been at a wedding of one of the SGC's staff members. On the other side of the table, he and Sam seemed to be having a conversation, unaware of the photographer. He was grinning at her and she was laughing out loud.
''…Do you need rescue? You look like you do, Carter''.
He had approached her from behind, but she hadn't even flinched. She had turned around and flashed him a smile, before pulling up her eyebrow.
''From Siler? No, sir. I think I can handle him''.
She had been asked to dance, but she had said no. And not only to Siler, but to a small army of colleagues and relatives from either the side of the bride or the groom. Hard to tell apart. Jack had been the only single man in the room who hadn't asked her to dance and he knew he shouldn't.
''Feet still hurt?'' He smirked as Sam let out a short laugh.
''Oh yeah. At times like these, I miss my boots.''
He had looked around the room to see if anyone was watching and escorted her out onto the back deck of the semi-floating restaurant the wedding festivities were held on. Sam had taken off her shoes and giggled.
''That feels great''.
Jack had figured that he might as well be supportive and take off his shoes as well and they had ended up dangling their feet of the deck, not quite touching the water, but enjoying the comfort nonetheless. He looked at her profile in the moonlight and it suddenly hit him again: she was gorgeous. She must have felt his stare, for she had turned her head to look at him, and he had noticed how the intensity of her stare mirrored his own. There had been no looking away or covering the moment with a lame joke. He couldn't keep his eyes from moving to her lips, all the time being aware of her reaction to it. She had grabbed his hand as if it was the normal thing to do.
''Jack…''
He took a deep breath and knew where this conversation was going. It was OK now. It was possible.
''…there's something I've been meaning to tell you.''
She had moved directed her attention to the water before them, but she had not let go of his hand.
''Jack, I think we should…''
They had heard a sound behind them. One that was familiar, and made Sam stop saying what she had wanted to say.
''General O'Neill, Colonel Carter, your presence is required. I believe they are ready for karaoke.''
It was Teal'c. That was a change. At least this time it hadn't been Daniel...
''…Daniel Jackson suggested that one of you should organize it.''
D'oh.
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Jack made his way through the morning. He managed to return a phone call, open his mail and listen to the news he had missed earlier. He did the dishes, collected the empty beer bottles, while only thinking about Sam five or six times. One time was questionable, for he thought about the files and not about the actual person.
At the moment he was watching Daniel making his way past a set of elderly people who were all cheating at poker. They had set up their table outside, near the entrance and Jack suspected that they were a better way of protection against criminals than a wild horde of dogs. One of the two ladies looked at Daniel with a look that could make grown men cry and it made Jack chuckle. She had liked *him* immediately. Daniel had reached his table, looked at the blue plastic bottle of water that Jack was drinking and frowned.
''Jack?''
''It's pretty much all they serve at this time of day. Drinks coming from bottles or cans. Ethel went to the back to grab me a cold one, though. She likes me.''
He shrugged and motioned for Daniel to sit down.
''Ethel?''
''Are we going to have a conversation with you using one worded sentences?''
''No…''
Jack raised his eyebrows and made a random gesture with his hand, indicating that Daniel should continue.
''How are you Jack?''
How he was? It was the first anniversary of his friend's death, he was sitting here with another friend whom he hadn't seen in almost a year, he was secretly missing yet another one and oh… Friend nr. 1 wasn't dead. Or she *was* and someone was being cruel. Or he was stuck in a really bad alternate reality. Or possessed by an alien feeding him false memories. Or in an alternate reality, while he was possessed by… He was confused.
''Peachy.''
They started off with small talk. Exchanged gossip, the way men do, not the girly kind. They even talked about the weather. But Jack knew Daniel had come to talk about something else.
''I can't believe it's already been a year… I remember the memorial as if it's been last week.''
Daniel glanced at him as if he was trying to read Jack's reaction.
He didn't feel like reacting. He didn't want to talk about Sam or the memorial service. He didn't feel like reminiscing. Do you remember how she… That Sam, she was such a… I wish she was here… Carter was a pleasure to work with… I always admired how she… He had heard it all before. He had thought it all before. Daniel continued.
''It's weird. I still pick up the phone to…''
Jack cut him off. ''She's not dead.''
Daniel's head snapped up and Jack could see the worry on his face. He processed the information while another elderly woman came up to the table.
''Can I get you something?'' her voice sounded almost too strong for her fragile and rather wrinkled look. Daniel looked at her and ordered coffee. When it arrived five minutes later, it was as cold as Jack's bottle of water. Ethel walked away and smiled. Apparently, she didn't take a liking to Daniel either. He didn't notice and returned his attention to Jack.
''What do you mean, she's not dead? Of course she is, Jack. You were there.''
Jack sighed and gazed at a crack in one of the walls. He had been there. He remembered every detail.
Oh crap… crap! I can't… Sir, I can't… She had moved her hand from her abdomen and saw the blood on it. He had tried to apply enough pressure on the wound, knowing that it wouldn't be enough. Damn. Are they ok? God, I don't feel… It's ok, Jack… She had died. Right there, while his hands were clawing into her shirt as if they could pull her back. He had checked her pulse, seen the medics perform CPR and every other trick they had. He had heard the doctor confirm her death.
''I know, Daniel. I know''
Ethel came back for a re-fill. Now that Jack was ordering, the coffee was hot. The group out front had stopped playing cards and were now discussing politics and their waitress made her way over there.
''She send me a note. She made some kind of personal journal, one entry per month. I haven't gone through it all, because I couldn't think very clearly last night and because the files are… confronting in a way. But…''
He told him everything. About the note, what he had seen in the files, the bottle of beer. Everything. Daniel's concern had grown and he didn't seem to be in a believing kind of mood.
''Sam left you her journal? Why would she? Sam wasn't the type to…'' He stopped.
''Look, Jack… I know how her death influenced your life and I know you cared about her, but this is insane. You and I both know she's…''
''...Gone? Dead? Buried? Pushing daisies? What Daniel? Listen, I know how this sounds, but the note was real. It was her handwriting, her words. The files mentioned things personal enough that only *she* would say them. Come on Daniel, after all we've seen, *this* you can't believe?''
He had raised his voice and Ethel and her crew were watching him from their camp. Daniel looked at his hands.
''Jack… maybe she meant to say that she would live on in your memory. Maybe she meant to say that her work would live on… There's no way to ask her now, is there? Let it go. Please?''
He got up and left some money on the table.
''She's not here with us anymore Jack. As much as I would like to see her again… She's gone. Don't waste your time hoping to get her back.''
And with that, he walked away.
Ethel, the sweetheart that she was, and having overheard the last part of the conversation, left the others and came to sit at Jack's table. She patted his shoulder and offered a smile.
''Sometimes hope is all we have that's keeping us planted in the ground. Never give up on what you believe in, hon. Never.''
Jack looked at her and she squeezed his hand.
''And by the way… That man is holding something back.''
Without further explanation, she returned to the table out front.
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Hm... mystery... That Daniel. What does he know? What is he holding back? And why?
A little useless A/N here, but I really like elderly people. Especially the ones with odd features and wacky habits... I think Ethel will return. So will the Sinatra Singer. Just because. I need some colourful people if Jack is all confused :P
Thanks for your time, I hope you enjoyed!
