Emily Taylor sat on her bunk, well..Frank Cromwell's bunk, in reality. Her legs pulled up to her chest. She held the man's black tee bunched in her clenched fists, her face buried in the soft fabric.
She could smell his scent, the fact somehow comforting her.
She had sat here for over an hour, her thoughts stagnant...the concerns and fears not allowed.
Emily had gone up top, to check on Frick and Frack. She had 'centered' them both in the sites of her P-90. Head shot...one to the front, center. How often she had wanted to make that shot but...today?
She had slowly lowered her weapon and...simply sat and watched the two Jaffa guards go about their normal routine. Somehow...even their presence gave her a perverse kind of comfort.
They were part of her world. Had been now for almost 4 years.
Part of the world of Frank Cromwell.
The man, himself, had christened them with their nicknames. He was the first to center them in the sites of his weapon and make a 'pop' sound as he pretended to pull the trigger.
Emily wondered where they were. She felt lonely and depressed in the large man's absence. But..as yet...she had not felt the sick feeling in her stomach. The one she always got whenever the man was in trouble or danger.
It never failed.
It was as if there was a silent, invisible connection between the two.
Frank would invariably return from a mission and be wounded, or worse...or perhaps..one of the team badly hurt or sometimes...the mission, itself...had gone amiss.
Emily was of Norwegian extraction. She had heard and read, Romanian or Central European people retained this physic 'connection' with others....ability...curse. Whatever 'label' one wished to apply.
But never one of her own kind. She did not try to explain it..merely accepted what was. Frank often derided her beliefs. She ignored him.
She inhaled deeply, holding the shirt close to her face. She wished he were here now so he could deride her...or bitch at her...or...hold her in his arms and laugh at how worried she was.
She loved Frank Cromwell She loved most things about the man. His cologne was one of them. His cocky ass confidence was another...she just...did. With all his faults, which arguably, were numerous.
But, no man could touch her soul like he could.
The sex was phenomenal, granted...but she did not put up with his shit for the sex. It was just an added bonus.
The knock on the door jarred the woman from her thoughts.
She reluctantly arose, crossing the small space, opening the door.
Emily consciously erased her scowl immediately, recognizing the 'intruder' into her private time.
"...Doctor." She nodded her 'hello', her mind sifting through possible reasons why Samantha Carter would be here...outside her door.
"...I tried to concentrate on work." Carter spoke without preamble and she seemed a bit awkward...a bit...hesitant. "I was wondering... do you have a few minutes?"
Emily hesitated, a bit awkward herself, never feeling quite comfortable with most women. "...Please." She stepped back, motioning the other woman in, but Carter still hesitated.
"Am I interrupting?"
"No." Emily shrugged both physically and mentally. "No..I wasn't doing anything. Please...come in."
She cleaned some clothes off a chair. She had done Frank's laundry. Something she always made sure never to do. Frank was a Major...he could order someone to do stuff like that, of course. He had not...to date.
Emily chose the desk chair. She was not really a 'people' person and didn't think she had helped Samantha Carter the day before. The day Frank and Jack O'Neill and that 'Scientist Guy' had left. The day the other woman had lost it in the briefing room.
Emily had listened while Carter wept and the woman had shared her feelings of loss. That much, Emmy could relate to, at least. She had felt her inadequacies deeply for she had not known how to verbalize her own emotions.
As now...she didn't know what to say, or if anything was even required. Perhaps...simply to listen...to allow this other woman to vent...
"I didn't know where else to go." Carter...Emily noted. Had very blue eyes, earnest eyes...sincere eyes. "You are...you...feel deeply for..Major Cromwell, don't you. I..If..I'm being too personal..."
"It's no state secret." Emily smiled for the fact. "You miss him? The Col?" She tried to make it easier for the Doctor.
"I'll never see him again." Carter would have cried but...she had cried enough for a lifetime...now, she just felt..numb inside. "It's like...surreal. Almost as if...he wasn't really here and yet..I know beyond doubt that he was."
Emily nodded. She thought she 'got it'. "And now..the little time you had. It means everything and yet...on another level, you are pissed because he came and just...left."
Samantha Carter nodded. "I've..I've never met anyone like him before...ever "
"Frank speaks highly of him...Frank doesn't speak highly of many people...believe me." Emily had the grace to be bothered as something came to mind. "...about my attitude with...the Col. It wasn't that I didn't..."
"No. I understand, really. You didn't want the Major to be put in harm's way."
Emily fell silent for a beat, gathering her thoughts. "...That day...when we first encountered O'Neill...the first words out of his mouth was..."you're dead". She remembered and still could not get the echo to leave her mind. She would wait at night in a cold sweat.
"That...Frank was...'that'."
Carter had not known about that.
"...In our business...with what we do. One expects to make..sacrifices. I guess we accept what has to be but..."
"I don't understand that. I never will." Carter admitted. "Intellectually, I know...we are at war with the Goa'uld and in war...people die. Simple statement and yet...when it happens to someone, you, personally know or care for..."
"...Frank says. Any rational being can never accept the concept of useless death, which..is what 'war' is..the very definition." Emily quoted. "But, reality dictates...death is inevitable for us all...some, simply die sooner than they should by our standards. Therefore, one must make a place for that eventuality. Some have this ability...most do not."
Carter was surprised at the depth of the statement. Frank Cromwell had said..that?
"Military types can accept and rationalize and move on...it's part of their make-up." Emily shrugged aimlessly. "He says...when there is no longer a need for such men...people...then 'wars' will cease to exist. Until then, we are stuck with them."
Carter smiled half-heartedly. "I thought it was a male, female thing. Men seem to accept..what must be accepted far better than females. Genetic make-up, perhaps?"
"You're way smarter than Frank, so you're probably right."
"No...no, I'm not. Major Cromwell is a very intelligent man but like the Col...I think, he tries to hide that fact a bit. Why, is anyone's guess." Carter stated her beliefs.
"He 'hides' it very well." Emily stated hers.
Again, Carter smiled. This time more sincerely. "You like him very much, don't you."
"No one 'likes' Frank. We tolerate him."
Carter nodded. The woman clearly wasn't comfortable admitting her feelings on the whole. "...I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just...well, I thought you would understand. All these feelings inside me.." Samantha Carter searched out the other woman. "Are you experiencing them as well?"
Emily lowered her head. "...Frank says he'll be back." She lifted her head almost defiantly. "I have to believe that. Col O'Neill?" The woman moved very cautiously. "...If that were me...knowing that..." No need to say the actual words. "I admire you. I don't think I'd be taking it half so well as you are and the 'reality' of it all is...we both...might have to face the knowledge...they are part of that 'acceptable risk' thing, Frank spoke of."
Carter nodded gravely, concentrating on her hands for a long beat. She hated that thought...she hated there had to be such horrible thoughts...for anyone. Let alone, herself.
"I don't know about you, but I'm thinking this sucks and for them to put us in this situation? Damned macho, moronic cretins! If I could...I'd kick both their asses!"
Carter grinned for the woman's words then...closed her eyes as a great sense of loss swept through her mind...feelings of deep despair.
She tried very hard not to weep but in the end...she broke down, allowing some of the grief she was feeling to escape.
Emily understood, allowing the other woman her due.
She arose, slowly crossing and rubbed Samantha Carter's shoulders gently. "It will all work out...hang on to that thought. Frank says...." She had been reminding herself all day about the things that 'Frank said'. "...When you just can't take something...odds are...it won't happen. It just...won't. Even when all logic and common sense says it will."
Carter lifted tear filled eyes, but behind the blue sadness, there was now a glimmer of hope.
"He's seen it too often not to believe it. Once?" Emily sat on the bunk bed facing Carter. "His team went on this mission...they weren't supposed to return..it was understood." The woman recalled all the countless 'war stories' she had been made to endure when she first joined the team. "Each man accepted that fact...all but...one."
She had Carter's attention and the tears had stopped, Emmy was relieved to note.
"This guy...another Major...his name was Dixon. He said..he'd sure as hell be back. His wife..poor woman...was expecting their fourth child and there was no way under God's green Earth...quoting here...that he was going to leave her to raise those demons by herself."
Carter had seen Major Dixon on base several times. He seemed very nice.
"He came back." Emily finished the tale.
"...And..and Major Cromwell 'came back'"
"Because Dixon saved his ass...yeah." Emily wanted to make sure the other woman was getting her point. "But, it was a given...NO one was 'supposed' to make it...logically...common sense said...no way. So see? We don't know everything there is to know."
"But the other men on the team...they didn't...eh..."
"No. One of those 'men' was my brother. That is how I met Frank Cromwell. First time I saw him...I walked up to him and slapped him right in the face as hard as I possibly could."
Carter's mouth fell open.
"Sam was too young to be put on that team...the fact that he volunteered meant nothing to me....I blamed Frank because he allowed him to go."
"I....I am so...sorry."
"Sam was determined to make a difference and in the end...he did. He distracted the Gou'ald long enough for Dixon and Frank to do what they had to do..." Emily's eyes softened. "It was what he would have wanted. I know that now...I didn't then."
Sam didn't know what to say.
"So...we wait and hope and...pray." Emily continued. "I, personally...make voodoo dolls and stick pins in their asses." She lifted perfectly serious eyes. "Helps pass the time and...just sort of makes me feel better. Each time I push a pin up Frank's ass."
Carter found herself chuckling her amusement. "If anyone had told me I would actually laugh today..I would not have believed 'that'." She shook her head. "You know? Your Major may have something there in his philosophy. Do...do you feel like a cup of coffee?"
"Hell, yeah. We aren't doing any good sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves. Let's grab some caffeine and put our efforts into something more productive." She carefully laid Frank's tee aside. "I have an extra voodoo doll if you want it."
"Where would I get the uniform?"
"Walter is small...maybe his would fit. Don't tell him I said that."
Carter laughed musically. She suddenly liked this woman. "Maybe we can figure out how to help the..." She sought the word.
"Idiots?" Emily 'helped'.
"Well, yes..but, don't tell them 'I' said that....back in one piece. I can try harder to use that supposed 'genius' everyone tells me I possess and hopefully...come up with something creative to assist."
"It's all anyone can do." Emmy nodded thoughtfully.
"Quoting the Major again?" Carter walked to the door, checking over her shoulder with the woman.
"Nah..someone really smart. Sgt. Silar."
"I should have known that." Carter grinned impishly.
"You're under stress." Emily dismissed. "It would have come to you...come on..coffee is on me."
"Then...the doughnuts are on me."