Chapter 38
She was home at last only it didn't feel right. Some wonderful person, she was thinking Daniel, had cleaned out her fridge, emptied the trash and brought in the mail. The place she knew was home it was clean and tidy. Everything was as she remembered but it had an alien feel, it didn't even smell right.
It was late and she was bone tired but she couldn't sleep. The bed was too soft, the bed clothes were all wrong. Sam rolled over and he wasn't there. That wasn't unusual. She grabbed her phone, wrapped her afghan around her shoulders and went out on the back porch and sat on the bench to look out to the night sky.
First she called the house phone – no answer. Maybe he wasn't home. She called his cell and he answered on the first ring.
"O'Neill"
She was regretting it the second he answered. "I shouldn't have called."
"Carter." His voice warm and rich.
"I couldn't sleep." She admitted.
"Me neither."
"Are you outside?"
"Yeah on the roof deck."
"Looking at the stars."
"What few of them I can see."
Up until then she hadn't realized how cloudy it was.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine" Her tone belied her answer.
"Carter"
"No, it just..."
"Yeah me too."
"Why doesn't it feel like home?"
"Give it a little time. It will."
"You've been through this before."
"More times than I care to think about. Don't you have someone to help you sleep?"
He cringed as the words left his mouth, bit his lip and had the urge to smack himself on the forehead.
"And I would be calling you?" She sounded a little put out. "No one." These words came out so soft and forlorn.
"Want me to come over?" Again he cringed at his artless choice of words.
"O god yes. Probably wouldn't be a good idea." By her tone he could tell she wasn't insulted, more likely they'd wind up doing what they resisted all those months. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, longing for a woman he could not have, love he must tamp down, the sting of hope for a future too damned far away.
"One year, you said you'd give this war one more year. Then..."
"Then I retire and we can..."
"Yes, yes we will."
The End
A/N: This tale was inspired by the look of utter devastation on Sam's face coming back from the battle in which Janet Frasier was killed and Jack O'Neill was wounded.
A sincere thank you to all who have read and to those who have reviewed and/or favorited this story.