To Hell and Back Chapter 8
As he passed through the swing doors and stepped into pale sunlight, he felt Kate's eyes on him assessing, trying to ascertain his mood. Turning his head, he met her gaze and smiled shyly, his appreciation evident.
She had been unexpectedly quiet sitting beside him as they'd watched the local school's two ice hockey teams doing a practice session. At his surprised query as to how they'd been allowed in to watch them, she'd simply stated, "I'm on the school board so a few perks come with the job." Then she'd left him alone, pleased that his attention to the practice wasn't feigned.
"You may not smile much, Jack O'Neill, but when you do, my but it's worth the wait! Come on," she encouraged, linking arms with him, pulling him in the direction of a park opposite the parking garage. "Let's walk; I know a bench in there where we can sit and drink my coffee and eat some ginger shortbread I baked this morning."
She'd felt the slight hesitation when he realized the bench was across from the children's jungle gym; his reluctance to stop there, but she'd pretended she'd never felt his unwillingness, engrossed in taking out the thermos and pouring two large mugs of the brew, and when he tasted it and blinked in pleasurable surprise, she'd chortled merrily, whispering melodramatically, "That's to keep the cold out."
And still seeing his puzzled look, she explained, "Don't worry, Jack. It falls well within the laws of this county; I'll be breaking no laws when I drive though I'm not saying the same when it comes to Jacob Carter's rules."
With the steaming drink poised at his lips, Jack gave her a thoughtful look, tipped his mug in salute and drank deeply. Kate wasted no time in following suit.
"These are good," he muttered, between mouthfuls of crunchy biscuit while Kate watched amused as he licked the crumbs off his fingers.
"You should thank Sam; it's her recipe."
It was as if a shadow had passed over the sun the way his features closed off sharply, the light dimming in his eyes, but Kate wasn't one to be so easily intimidated.
"Just look at those children," she enthused, "Don't you think their passion for life is inspiring? See there, that little fella with the red jacket, do you see him? The one reaching up for that rope - he can't be more than three - it's way too big for him, but that's not going to stop him from trying."
Turning suddenly, her brilliant green eyes bore into him as she stated softly, "And from the little I know of you, you don't strike me as being one to give up either."
Hunched over, Jack appeared to have found something of intense interest on the ground. He made no comment.
Proffering the thermos for a warm up, Jack shook his head.
As Kate began to put the mugs and thermos away in her small shoulder bag, she stole a brief glance at her companion.
"Some people would declare I'm a contrary sort of person - much like you, wouldn't you say?" She knew she'd caught his attention, but he remained stubbornly silent while his outer expression did justice to a Teal'c look of impassivity.
"When you get to my age you realize that what might have seemed vitally important isn't so darned essential anymore. Accept some advice given freely - get on with living. Don't waste time."
Still keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground, he muttered sullenly, "Are we done here?"
As a rare flash of irritation coursed through her, Kate resisted the urge to yank on his ear, instead making do with a pointed, "You know, Jack, I never took you for the type to take the easy way out. I somehow pictured you as the kick butt and to hell with the consequences type of guy. Am I so wrong?"
Turning to face her, his look jaded, Jack answered dryly, "I don't know; maybe you should talk to my CO or better yet, my mother!"
Choosing to ignore his 'Keep Away' signal, Kate pressed on, "So tell me about your mother?"
Sighing heavily, Jack rolled his eyes offensively. "Can we not talk about this?" It wasn't a polite request.
"She must have been one clever woman, walking a tightrope between admiring your spark and yet being the voice of reason."
The man beside her snorted but, at the same time, Kate noticed the pink color touching his neck and face and she smiled knowingly.
"So, what did she use to keep you on the straight and narrow - a nice, pliable slipper?"
Jack stood abruptly, making it clear that there was to be no further continuance of this discussion.
Hiding her amusement, Kate smiled good-naturedly. "Whenever you're ready."
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Sam was putting one of her duffel bags in the trunk of her car as Kate drew up and parked next to her, alighting from her vehicle.
"Going so soon?" Kate sounded saddened.
Smiling a little too forcibly, Sam pretended her CO wasn't within hearing distance.
"'Fraid so. Duty calls and all that." And continuing in a mock sotto voice continued, "Besides, I think I might cramp Dad's style if I stick around."
"And when did anyone or anything cramp Jacob Carter's style?" came the speedy retort.
They both grinned then Kate became more serious. "When do you go? Can you stay for dinner?"
Sam was already shaking her head. "I've got a few more hours, but I'll be on the road by five, so dinner's out. Sorry."
The two women linked arms companionably as they walked back into the cabin, leaving Jack on the deck, staring out at the racing river a few feet away.
His expression remained closed and unwelcoming and when Jacob appeared to tell him lunch was on the table, he mumbled that he wasn't hungry and brushed past the Tok'ra, into the house and up to his room.
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The knocking sounded insistent and rubbing her wet hair vigorously with a towel, Sam wondered how long it had been going on as she'd just jumped out of the shower. Thinking about it later, she still couldn't work out whether she had been totally naive or whether she'd been wishing for just this to happen. Either way, she opened the door a fraction and peered out, finding herself face to face with a startled-looking Jack O'Neill. In the back of her mind she wondered whether that look had anything to do with her lack of attire and received the answer to that when following his gaze, she realized that more of her body was exposed than she thought.
Seeing Carter's eyes narrow, his own gaze darted past her as if he dare not rest them any longer on her partially clad body then growing uncomfortable in the silence, he asked softly, "Can I come in?"
"Er...I'm not exactly dressed for--."
"I've seen you in less," he interrupted, and didn't look away when a burst of color washed over Sam's upper body above the towel.
Her lips thinned dangerously. PX3944. No one on the team had ever dared raise that particular subject with her before and her eyes darkened with indignation.
"What do you want?" Her tone was just short of being offensive.
"What do you think?" His manner matched hers equally.
Was this his none too subtle attempt at innuendo? Sam felt her hands tightening on her towel, regretting that she was clad in so little otherwise her hands, right now, could well have been inflicting some more serious damage on one smug bastard's face. She obviously hadn't hit him hard enough in the woodshed. But she was too upset and mentally exhausted to play any type of mind game. She had no strength for word play or pretense and there were no illusions to hang on to any more. She'd failed as far as she was concerned and it was proving a bitter pill to swallow.
"Look, Sir. If you've come to apologize..." But her voice trailed off on seeing his total and utter surprise at this suggestion. He obviously had no intention whatsoever of going that route and she mentally berated herself for again putting herself into a vulnerable situation with him. She looked away unable to meet his speculative brown eyes.
"So can I come in or what?"
As she stepped back, her eyes returned to his and she started when she saw where his gaze had been fixed. Again.
Pulling the towel higher over her cleavage, she glared coldly making no move to close her door and provide them with the privacy she knew he would have preferred.
"I just wanted you to know that I realize you were just doing your job and what I said before in the woodshed, well, I didn't mean it. I can understand what you did - I may not agree - but I --- I understand."
And for a heartbeat, Sam just stood there, a troubled frown marring her forehead as she felt her temper, already tweaked, begin to rise to volcanic proportions.
'Doing your job...just doing your job.' "Tell me, does it just come naturally - are you genetically programmed to be a complete pain in the ass or have you taken a masters degree?"
Then, with a slight shake of her head, her free hand gave Jack a firm and totally unexpected shove in his chest, propelling him back over the threshold of her door and before he could remonstrate with her or digest the venomous look she was throwing at him, the door had been slammed solidly in his incredulous face.
Staring at the closed door for a moment longer, Jack swore under his breath and turning, found Jacob watching him from the top of the stairs. The younger man shrugged, hiding his disquiet behind bluff sounding words, saying, "Well at least she didn't hit me this time."
"Wha-at?" That piece of news clearly astonished the Tok'ra. "She hit you? She hit you?" He was clearly stunned by this information. "Do you know how many times I've wanted to slap you silly and each and every time I've been criticized by either Kate or my daughter? And now you're telling me Sam's done it?" Jacob was clearly irked and having witnessed the whole door slamming in the face asked, "So, she wouldn't accept your apology, eh?"
"What apology, for crying out loud?"
"Oh, I don't know, Jack, maybe for being a genetically engineered pain in the ass."
The annoying smirk that accompanied the words had Jack glowering.
"I could go on if you'd like me to," offered Sam's father smugly, "but there again, I'm pretty sure Sam could give you a more prolific list. Though I have to say she sure as hell didn't hit you hard enough!"
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As she looked out over the valley she knew she'd done the right thing coming here. Last night hadn't changed it for her; it was still her spot to mull over her problems and to gain her equilibrium when the rest of the world seemed to be spiralling out of control. And realizing that, she breathed a weary sigh of relief; brushing away a recalcitrant tear that had dared to spill over her burning eyelids.
There'll be no damned tears she promised herself brutally. She'd cried an ocean of those already. Enough was enough. And as her fists bunched in the pockets of her jacket, she shuddered, hanging her head, wanting to escape the bitter memories that continued to play in her head like some manic merry-go-round.
She still had nightmares of the time Jack had fallen ill in Antarctica, on death's door until she'd pleaded with him to accept the symbiote. She would have begged on her bended knees if she'd had to. She couldn't have let him die, not if there was the slightest hope. And hope she had grasped in the form of the Tok'ra lifeline. She hadn't fooled herself into thinking he would excuse her conduct, knew full well he'd be mad as hell at what she'd forced him into doing. And force it had been. He had been shocked out of a coma to hear her plea and was just as likely to have understood nothing that she begged of him, but she'd got her nod and that was all she needed to go ahead with the blending. She grimaced at the all too painful memory. Yeah, she'd 'just been doing her job.'
She'd entrusted him into the Tok'ra's care never imagining that the symbiote saving his life would take advantage of the blending to save its own partner. But that was what had happened and her CO had been subjected to the most unimaginable torture until he'd been able to escape.
Screwing up her eyes she tried to blot out the picture of the clothes Janet had shown her once they'd been removed from her CO's body. The burning holes were testament to the acid that he had endured and the bloodied rents denoted the knife wounds inflicted over and over and over again.
Lifting anguished eyes to the heavens, she cried out, "Damn you Ba'al. Damn you to hell."
And like magma rising relentlessly, inexorably beneath the earth's surface, she felt the shuddering pressure of her violent emotions demanding release. Her grief was all encompassing and just as she had raged to the valley and the skies when her mother had died, so now too she protested this terrible loss that left her scarred within.
If she had been the screaming type she would have howled her despair, but rather she stood stiffly erect as tears poured from her eyes and she felt her very heart breaking.
It wasn't until later that she realized she'd fallen to her knees, her energy so depleted she had no strength to stand and the dampness of the earth seeped through the knees of her jeans but she was unaware of the discomfort just as she was oblivious of the man watching her from the shadows of the trees.
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Only one who has endured terrible grief can fully comprehend the anguish that Sam was experiencing as she raised her eyes to the heavens, unable to hold in the bitter rivulets of pain which flowed from her eyes and coursed down her face. And so, despite the fact that one part of him wanted to reach out to offer solace, still another, wiser part cautioned Jack. This was something that needed to be private. And this he would give her - for now.
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"Sam."
She stopped, not turning. Her whole body looked poised for flight.
She grimaced. Just once, just this once she would have liked to have made it back to the sanctuary of her room without having to face anyone. But at least it wasn't him.
"Dad."
He could sense something, especially when she didn't turn on the steps leading to the deck and face him; the contours of her body radiated emotion.
"You okay?"
He could see the effort needed to stand up taller as if that would cover her distress.
"Yes." Her voice sounded raw and she cleared it before saying, "Just a little low at the prospect of leaving. You know--."
"Ah, well then maybe I can make you feel better...George just phoned. Said to tell you there was no need to return."
"Wha-at?" She span round, her surprise all too evident, uncaring that her blotchy face, bloodshot eyes and muddied jeans were revealed.
"Why on earth would General Hammond telephone to extend my leave? It's unheard of." Then casting a baleful eye at her father, she demanded, "Did you have something to do with this because there is no way in hell a general is going to phone up a lowly major for such a reason."
"Don't look at me like that. I'm as surprised as you, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If I get to spend a couple more days with my daughter, who am I to question the reasons for it?" And now giving her a more appraising look, Jacob asked more gently, "Anyway, maybe George felt you needed some extra time. You have been working yourself into the ground for some time and ...are you okay kiddo?"
Realizing what a mess she must look, she smiled deprecatingly.
"Yea, Dad. I'm fine, or at least I will be. But you know, I think I'm gonna head off anyway. I've a few things that need doing and these extra days will give me the opportunity to get some stuff done that has been hanging over me, which I've never got round to. You know what I mean, all those boring things that catch up on you eventually. I need to--."
Knowing when Sam had made up her mind there was little that could change it, Jacob merely tried for the middle option.
"Well at least go tomorrow. That way you can get a good night's sleep and Kate's invited us to her place for dinner - she'll be happy to know you'll be joining us."
Brushing a hand nervously through her windswept hair, Sam explained uncertainly, "Look, will you count me out Dad?"
She'd sounded exactly the same, just turned fifteen wearing a new dress and high heels and asking to stay out late and expecting an argument. He'd surprised her back then and given his consent. She'd never known he'd had stern words with her boyfriend at the time promising hell on earth if anything untoward happened to his little girl. He didn't try and persuade her differently this time.
And giving him a grateful smile which didn't quite reach her eyes, she turned and continued into the cabin leaving Jacob watching her back, a worried expression clouding his face. Maybe it was time he gave a similar warning to another persistently aggravating man in her life.
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WARNING - PLEASE NOTE: On the advice of my brilliant beta, Nell, I am writing two versions for the chapter which is to follow.
- Chapter 9A is 'T' rated in accordance with the whole of this piece of fiction.
- However, I have also written a version (Chapter 9B) which does give a slightly more detailed account of love scenes and which may be inappropriate for the younger reader and for those who prefer lower rated reading material.
