Samantha first met Charlie O'Neill was in a small airport as she exited her connecting flight from St. Paul/Minneapolis to St. Cloud, Minnesota. He was taller than she had expected but that probably made sense considering his DNA. He was also very blond and looked very much like his mother. The only part of him that seemed to be from Jack was his eyes – large and dark and serious. He looked at her with those eyes, measuring her, uncertain and Sam felt a strange and unfamiliar tug against her heart.

Sam knew that she loved her brother's children. But there was something about this ten year-old boy who was an extension of the man she had fallen in love with; something that had nothing to do with biology.

Charlie wasn't shy, for all the uncertainty she had seen in his eyes. He was talkative in the rented truck, sharing willingly when he was asked questions. He was smart and very articulate, observant of his world and quick to point things out to her when they drove by them.

They stopped at a grocery store and picked up food to eat on the way and to have a picnic at a state park. Once at the park, Jack made sure Charlie ate first and then let him go work off some energy on the playground. Sam cleaned up some of the mess from their meal as Jack kept an eye on Charlie for a little bit, silently watching as his son took less three minutes to get all the other kids together for some kind of group game.

"Is he always like that?" Sam asked.

"Like what?"

"A leader," she said, "someone who can bring a mix of strangers together?"

"Yeah," Jack drawled and then shot her a meaningful look. "Don't read more into than there is. His mother is like that too. Everywhere she goes – softball, PTA, Cub Scouts – she winds up in charge of something."

Sam tried not to feel jealous of Sara O'Neill. Jack had never given her any indication that he wanted to get back with her. She forced a smile and said, "So he gets it from both sides."

Jack hesitated, giving her an inscrutable look and then snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, I guess he does."

Lightly, Sam said, "He's very bright, very well spoken."

Jack shrugged and answered just as lightly, "Only child. He's the center of attention with only adults to talk to at home and he learned pretty fast to fit into an established relationship and careers."

"And your career took you away for long periods of time," Sam surmised. When he scowled a little she said, "It's okay. I'm an Air Force brat, remember? My Dad's absences have nothing to do with my strained relationship with him. Because he was gone so much I grew up pretty independent and determined to take care of myself."

"That sounds like Charlie too," Jack said, "He's been insisting I can do it myself since he was two."

They fell into an easy silence. Jack continued to watch Charlie but he got up to help Sam with the garbage and packing up the cooler.

"He's too curious," Jack said, finally, sitting back down on the bench. Sam sat down next to him, hip to hip, pushing her leg and foot against his. "That's why he was in the bedroom with my handgun. Now I don't think for a moment it was the first time. We'd made something forbidden and it made him too curious. He doesn't remember the accident so it didn't help him learn anything. He comes off as so mild, easygoing like his mother; but he doesn't recognize limits and that's a problem."

"Limits are artificial constructions we set around ourselves in order to create a comfort zone. We want to feel safe. So we make up things that we think will protect us," Sam said, musingly, "The problem is the safety is also artificial."

"Yeah," Jack drawled slowly. Then he said more briskly, "Listen, there's a skeet shooting set up at the cabin. I'd like you to help me teach Charlie to shoot."

Sam looked at him, startled. She opened her mouth, closed it and then inhaled a little. "Okay."

"I have to stop making it something forbidden or it's just going to happen again; maybe not with guns but with something else."

"Like the spinning wheel in Sleeping Beauty," Sam said.

Jack blinked. "What?"

"In the story Sleeping Beauty," Sam rushed on, "The king has all the spinning wheels in the kingdom burned and bans their use. So when she sees one on her 16th birthday she touches it and falls under the sleeping spell. If she'd just grown up surrounded by them, she wouldn't have been curious and the whole thing could have been avoided. So I understand why you want Charlie to learn how to use a gun responsibly."

Jack spared a moment to check on Charlie again and then said, slowly, "Well, you know, princess movies aren't exactly where I usually go for parenting inspiration. But I guess you have a point."

Sam smiled and slipped her arms around his, squeezing. "I think your son looks a whole lot like his mother but the core of him is very much his father – the man who jumped out of airplanes into dangerous situations for a living. I think he has the same instincts for survival that you do too. So if you want me to help you hone those instincts, I'm on board with it."

Jack leaned his face into her hair for a moment and then kissed her. "Thank you."

"No problem. You're a good father."

Jack shook his head and snorted out another laugh. "A good father wouldn't have almost lost him the way we did. It's why Sara couldn't ever forgive me." He paused and Sam knew he was about to keep talking. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that Jack kept a lot of emotion locked inside himself because it was safe there. Letting it out made him vulnerable, opened the door for people to pity him, commiserate with him, try to cheer him up. His body language was casual and almost cuddly – the way he was leaning into her. But the thoughts going through his head were so diamond hard she could feel them.

She waited in patient silence until he finally said, "She begged me to take him to a firing range, teach him gun safety. I didn't because I wanted to protect him from the world I knew outside. I thought Charlie would do as he was told, would follow the rules. I thought I had made it very clear that he wasn't to touch it, ever. I just…. Misjudged how much of me he has in him."

"So you admit it?" Sam said, nudging her body against his.

"Admit what?'

"To being an adrenaline junkie, just like me."

"Just like you, huh?" He smiled.

"You've been in a jet with me," she shrugged.

"Yeah," and then he exhaled in relief and she knew it was because she hadn't tried to sympathize or pity him.

"You want to let him play for a while longer before we start driving again?" Sam asked.

'Yes," Jack said, "He's pretty self-contained and a great traveler but he's still only ten years old. I want to stop at a diner in Silver Creek that I think you'll love. Their apple pie is incredible and they make their own ice cream. I highly recommend the strawberry."

"No chocolate?" Sam asked.

"Oh no, they have chocolate. It's addicting."

"Sounds great."

"There's a Frisbee in the truck. How do you feel about getting Charlie and having a couple of rounds? We can go down to the beach around the lake."

"That sounds perfect too."

They stood up in one smooth synchronized motion and Jack hollered for Charlie. To his credit Charlie broke off with his friends and came running. Perhaps he had actually learned to follow the rules to some extent.

They retrieved the Frisbee and strolled down to the beach hand in hand with Charlie running ahead of them. Sam wondered if things could ever get more perfect.

(0)