Title: Land of Sky Blue Waters
Sam jumped off the boat, landing on the dock, ready to grab the ropes and secure the rig for the night. She waited; watching as the Colonel slowly brought the boat in as close to shore and to the pier as possible.
The afternoon had been enlightening. For one thing, she'd never realized how much the Colonel liked toys; large, powerful toys admittedly, but toys they were in the end. Of course, she known about his motorcycle and his love of flying, and she'd known he had a boat in Minnesota, but she'd never really understood how much he liked playing with them. It was an amusing thought; she'd never thought of him as someone who had an affinity with machines. Usually, she spent her time focused on trying to keep him away from machines and anything possibly breakable, especially when he was fiddling with something potentially dangerous in her lab.
She grinned to herself and grabbed the rope the Colonel threw her, watching as he shut down the engine. She slowly pulled the boat to the docking poles; that done, she began securing the starboard line. The Colonel jumped out and began securing the stern. She hunkered down, secured the knot, and grinned again, continuing her train of thought.
What had been really eye opening was the change in the Colonel's behavior towards her since their conversation that morning, which had clearly had an impact. The result was unsettling, to say the least. The fact of the matter was that a Jack O'Neill smiling at her, relaxed and trying to be open about his past was a new experience and one that was very, very dangerous. A gruff CO she could handle. A man who was thoughtful, considerate and just flat out … charming, and damned if he couldn't be extremely charming when he chose to be, was almost overwhelming, but not quite.
She sighed, thinking. What was flat out overwhelming was how hard he was trying. She shook her head, grinning at the memory. Clearly, casual friendship wasn't like riding a bike for the Colonel. He didn't just get back on, remember how it worked, and start cruising. He was …rusty. And so she'd spent the day adjusting as his mood veered from openness to his usual reticent sarcasm. And there'd been something else; something she'd seen in his eyes when she caught him off guard that she knew was in her own as well and was best not to think about. But even putting that aside, truth be told, it was the combination of gruff, rusty charm that was so attractive; he was the Colonel, still abrupt, difficult and erratic; but those characteristics blended with moments of clear enthusiasm for life and personal openness was a truly potent mix. He lived; he'd clearly loved; and he'd survived tragedy, bruised but intact. She wondered briefly what he'd been like when he was young; if he'd always been as cynical he was now or he'd just learned it over the years, and then shut the thought down. Understanding the guts of the man, how he'd come to be what he was, was dangerous territory. Just the current package without that kind of understanding was nearly irresistible, especially when he was smiling at her like he was now, his dark eyes focused on her, inviting her to enjoy the humor behind the story the was telling as he tied down the line.
Damn. This was just so not… the thought disappeared as fast as it had started, as she stood up too quickly and promptly tripped over the ropes she'd just secured. The Colonel was next to her in what seemed like seconds, steadying her from what would have been a nasty fall into the water and against the boat's edge.
"For crying out loud, Carter, are you ok?" He grabbed her shoulders, clearly exasperated.
She shrugged into his chest, embarrassed, trying to regain her equilibrium. "Yeah. It was incredibly stupid. I was just distracted." She'd be damned if she was going to say by what.
"Sure." He moved his hands down her arms and then released her, his expression suddenly unreadable. He turned and bent down, checking the knot she'd made to secure the boat. "Nice job, Major. Where did you learn to make a Fisherman's Bend?"
"My dad."
With that the Colonel turned back to her and looked up from his kneeling position, questioning. "Jacob again?"
She shrugged, recovering, and ran her hand over her arm. "Yeah. When he was stationed in Tacoma, we used to rent sailboats. He wouldn't let me sail until I'd learned a perfect Fisherman's Bend. I must have done it fifty times one day before I got it right."
He looked away from her towards the sunset and sat down on the pier, his arms resting on his knees, his hands clasped between. "I bet it was perfect."
His tone sounded slightly off. For some reason she felt she needed to explain. "It was just part of growing up military. Every time we moved, Dad made sure that my brother and I experienced what he called the 'local color.' "
He gestured for her to sit down next to him on the pier, and they watched as the sun, a fiery orange ball, began to send sparks through the clouds, creating a wild display of ambers, golds and purples as it set slowly towards the horizon and the lake. The Colonel put his sunglasses back on, watching quietly. Silence settled between them as they listened to the animals and the birds settle in for the night, the wind that had been at their backs all day settling into a cool evening breeze. He finally seemed to come to some sort of decision, although she couldn't figure out quite what. But then, she rarely could read him easily. He wasn't an easy person to know.
"So… tell me more about growing up 'Carter'."
She shrugged, surprised at the question. "Not much to tell. Standard military brat story. Dad was reassigned every four years, as usual, so we moved around a lot. I was seventeen when he made General and was assigned to the Pentagon. You know the rest; I studied at the Air Force Academy, did a stint in the Gulf, came back and finished my PHD at MIT and then joined the gate project."
"Where all was Jacob stationed?"
She ran her hand through her hair, trying to remember. It was years ago that she'd live it and years since she'd thought about any of it. "Seemed like everywhere. I was born in D.C. and they moved shortly after to San Antonio. I don't remember much of that. Then he was stationed at Pope in North Carolina. I think that was his favorite assignment. After that, we relocated to Wright-Patterson in Dayton. That's where my mother died. It was about a year later that we moved to Tacoma. Four years after that Dad was promoted and we went back to D.C. He spent most of his early career in Germany, as well as a stint in Nam, of course, so by the time I was born, he was mostly stationed stateside, with an occasional stint back in Europe. I'm still not quite sure what he was doing then. After he was promoted to General, he was transferred back and forth between D.C and Europe until he retired. "
"What about you?"
"What about me?" She was confused by the question, and distracted by the beauty of the evening. The sky had turned to ever deepening reds and golds, and the rhythm of the waves as they broke on the shore was soothing.
He tried again. "What was it like growing up moving so often?"
She looked at him curiously; it seemed like a question that was out of character. He shrugged in response, and then grimaced. "Just curious. I'm a Minnesota boy, born, well not quite but close enough, and bred. Didn't leave until I joined the Academy. So… I'm just wondering."
She tipped her head, acknowledging his curiosity. It was a simple enough question to answer, after all. "To be honest, I don't remember much of any of it. We just…moved around a lot. It was normal. "
"Must have been hard to leave your friends, school, and start over. "
"Not really, sir. I've always been, as you'd call it, a geek, and so I was usually ahead of whatever was being offered in class, so the moves were pretty easy over all. I never had to catch up."
"What about friends?"
She shrugged. "I wasn't much interested in social stuff. I knew I wanted to join the Air Force by the time I was five, and fell in love with physics in the eighth grade, when I first encountered it. After that, I just kept focused. Moving didn't mean much, except that it took a while to adjust to a new house, new town sometimes."
He shifted, putting his legs over the edge of the dock, favoring his knee. "So, you developed your own standards."
She snorted, remembering, and blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Hardly. I spent most of the time just trying to live up to my father's standards."
"Yeah. I've noticed that Jacob's an expert at conditional approval."
She stared at him, somehow annoyed by the comment. "I didn't say that."
He shrugged and looked back at her, cocking his head in agreement. "You didn't need to. I've seen him in action."
She snorted, acknowledging his point. "Yeah, well, my father is unique. Reminds me of you in a way."
That got him. He stared at her, astonished. "Excuse me? Did you just say I reminded you of your father?"
She grinned. She couldn't tell is he was more horrified at the thought of being compared to Jacob in general, or just being compared to a man close to twenty years his senior. But either way, she'd taken him off balance. "Actually, in some ways you do. You're both stubborn, decisive, and used to giving orders and expecting them to be followed."
"Carter, I am not like your father." Yep, there was clear horror in his tone.
She coughed back the laugh that was forming. "Of course not, sir. You're –" She let the thought dwindle off as she looked back at him and her breath caught in her throat. He'd taken off his sunglasses again and what she saw in his eyes was mesmerizing. She swallowed. The fact of the matter was that the Colonel was one of the most attractive men she'd ever known; strong, fit, just damned…but more to the point, and especially the point she needed to focus on right now, he had no idea of his effect on women. She'd seen it dozens of times in the SGC; he was totally oblivious. She shook the thought clear and finished her sentence. "You're definitely not like my father at all in a lot of ways."
He looked half-way relieved and half-way annoyed. "Thank you, I think."
She blinked and tried to finish her original thought. " It's just that my father has fairly high expectations for everyone. Always has. I suppose that's what got him the general's stars. You're like him in that regard."
He snorted. "Well, that's not happening here as long as I can help it, Carter, so we're both safe on that one."
He paused and then continued. "So from the age of five, you wanted to be Air Force. Never questioned it."
She tilted her head to look at him, surprised at his persistence. It was very unlike the Colonel to keep at something when it was personal, or at least unlike the Colonel she'd known before this morning. But he'd answered her questions honestly; she was obligated to do the same.
"I did, actually. It was after we moved to Tacoma. My mother had just died, and my father… well, he just seemed move on. He had his work; and I couldn't understand at the time." She shrugged. "I suppose I was at the right age for rebellion, anyway." She grinned, remembering what at the time seemed like full-blown revolt. "If you could call it that. The whole business consisted of not talking Air Force to him for three years, taking AP classes at U Dub the minute I was eligible, and spending a lot of time in the mountains and in the wilderness around Seattle and Tacoma when I could. I doubt he even realized I was rebelling."
He grinned at her, clearly amused by the story. "Yeah, Carter, it sounds like you were seriously acting out."
She smiled. "Yeah. So, anyway, to make a long story short, the AP classes convinced me that physics was right, but theory without practice wasn't. So, I got over my funk, and enrolled in the Air Force Academy when I came of age. End of story."
"So, Tacoma was where you developed a liking for the outdoors?"
"I guess so. Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering." He gestured toward the lake and the forest behind it. "You seem to like it here; I just wondered when you spent any time in the wilderness. There hasn't been much time for R&R since we've been stationed at the SGC."
She looked over at him, surprised again by the direction of the conversation. He looked like he'd just solved some sort of puzzle. It was strange. She asked the obvious question. "Why do you want to know all this? As you said earlier today, 'it's such ancient history even I've forgotten it.'"
He kept his eyes on the sunset. "I don't know. I guess I was just curious about what you were like as a young girl." He shifted, thinking, and cleared his throat. "Besides which, Carter, Jacob and I aren't the only ones with high expectations. You have pretty high expectations as well. I suppose I'm just trying to get a feel for why."
"I don't."
The Colonel just looked at her. She flushed, acknowledging the point. "All right, maybe I do at times. But it hardly has anything to do with where or how I grew up."
He shrugged. "Maybe not."
She shook her head, bemused at the sudden turn in the conversation. "I thought you detested psychoanalysis, sir."
He stared at her, surprised. " I do. Bunch of crap. But I do think that experiences have an impact."
"You do?"
"Yeah."
Okay, that was a weird thought. She put it aside to chew on later. "So, what is it that you're asking, sir?"
He turned away again, his gaze unreadable as he watched the sun create yet another display of colors; this time the deep maroon and purple striations across the sky. "I'm not trying to intrude, Carter. The day has been… unusual to say the least. And this friends stuff… isn't easy."
Something was bothering him; that was clear. "It's ok. Really. Ask what you'd like."
He shrugged. "It's pretty simple. I'm asking about you, Sam. I'd like to understand why you worry so much."
She rejected the thought. "I don't."
He interrupted her, and ran his hand through his hair, his tone gruff and rusty, apparently determined to finish now that he'd started. "I can't imagine what it's like to be a woman in the military, but I have had other women under my command over the years, though not nearly as brilliant as you are. They didn't second-guess themselves the way you do, which you do even when you've just pulled our asses out of what was sure to be a terminal situation. Mind you, I'm not objecting. As your CO, I approve completely. It never gets in the way and your checking and rechecking data has saved our butts at least a dozen times. I'm just wondering why you feel the need to do so."
She had absolutely no idea what to say. She knew she ought to say something; but at the same time, she just couldn't. In the end, the Colonel broke the silence.
"Look, Carter, I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
He stood up and looked away at the shadows that were forming on the lake from the trees and the setting sun and finally broke the silence that had settled. "For what it's worth, Major, I trust you as my 2IC and as a scientist. You asked me earlier today why I didn't offer more suggestions about science. To be honest, I'm not sure I could, but if I needed to I would. But I don't need to, not with you at my back. I know you'll find the answers and you'll do what needs to be done. I've trusted you with my life more than once, and I'll do so again. And there are no conditions attached to that."
She stared at him, stunned, and finally stood up. "I – you really trust me that much?"
"Of course I do."
She swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed. "I really don't think you should."
He interrupted, clearly exasperated. "Carter, have you ever been able to accept a compliment gracefully?"
"Uhh.. probably not, sir."
He shook his head. "Figures. OK, let me make this easier. You have the damndest habit of insisting on explaining science to me, forget to make a practical risk assessment when there's some new technology to explore, and are far too easily influenced by Daniel's damned flights of fancy for my taste, but I wouldn't want anyone else at my back. Is that clear enough for you?"
She stared back at him. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Let's get some dinner."
He turned away, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm and pulling him back in her direction.
"Jack?"
"What?"
"Thank you."
He pushed the hair that the wind had blown into her eyes away from her face, and she looked down, embarrassed that he could probably tell that her eyes had misted over. Unconditional acceptance of what she was, flaws and all, was something she'd never expected from Jack O'Neill of all people; in fact, she'd never expected it from anyone.
His voice was gruff. "You're welcome, Carter. And I've told you before, you really do need to get out more." He put his hands in his pockets, looking away. "We should head back to the cabin."
She shook her head. "I'd like to finish watching the sunset. I'll be there in a minute."
He shrugged and turned away, grabbing his fishing gear out of the boat as he left. "Suit yourself. Dinner should be ready in an hour."
She watched as he headed down the pier and through the thoroughfare that led from Spooner back to his pond and the cabin. As she lost sight of him, she took a deep breath, calming down, and stared at the last streaks of evening sunset of rose and reds, trying to focus. The stars were beginning to break through the dusk as the sun finally sank into the horizon. The air was crisp and at least ten degrees colder than the day; the lack of the heat of the sun's warmth now that it was gone, cooling everything.
She stood quietly; listening to the silence as the breeze stopped and the lake became a clear, calm pool of night, reflecting the last shadows of the day. He was an amazing, charming, kind, brusque, dangerous and completely unpredictable man. And a devastatingly attractive one; when he touched her, even accidentally, it sent shivers down her spine and her unconscious into overdrive. When he smiled at her, she seemed to lose whatever rational thought she might have had. And she wasn't the only one who had a problem; she was pretty damned sure she saw in his expression the same thing she felt every time she caught him unaware and their eyes connected. She wondered what it would have been like if they'd met somewhere else besides the SGC and then turned the thought aside, damning herself as an idiot. He was her CO, for god sakes, and he'd already outlined what he was willing to offer. His friendship and support was already more than enough. Whatever else there was between them had better stay locked away. They were adults, after all. They could control their behavior. This desire…part… was simply that. The Colonel was right; he'd been right the first night they'd come up to the lakes. They just needed to get the whole thing out in the open and then they could both relax. They just hadn't discussed all the possibilities yet.
As she headed toward the cabin, her path lit by moonlight and the late evening dusk, she hoped she was right.