CHAPTER TWO
An hour later, armed with a warm cup of milk and the most boring book she could find on her bookshelf, Sam climbed into bed. She was about to open the book when the phone beside her rang.
Surprised she picked it up. "Hello?"
"Uh ... hey, Carter ... Did I wake ya?" Colonel Jack O'Neill's voice rang clearly through the phone.
"No ..." Sam was unable to make the surprise in her voice. "Not at all sir. I was just reading a book." All of a sudden the hard work at relaxation had been undone.
"O...kay..." He sounded twice as hesitant as she did.
"Was there something specific you wanted to talk to me about Sir?" Sam groaned inwardly. She could've kicked herself. She sounded so distant and impersonal, a model of military formality.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I did." The Colonel sounded unusually intent and focused. "It's kinda weird, but I think I - *we* - need to talk about it. Get the air cleared up as soon as possible and all that." He had reverted to his usual sarcastic tone.
"Sure Sir. Ah ..." Sam was treading on very unfamiliar territory. While close, she had never really voluntarily interacted on such a personal level with him before. They were both so taciturn at times that getting them to open up was like drawing blood out of a stone.
"Okay ... At the risk of sounding completely crazy ... Carter, I'm outside your house. Would you mind if I came in?" The Colonel's voice rang with uncertainty. Evidently this was unchartered territory for him too.
"Sure ..." Sam was well and truly caught out and had no idea how to react. She had just enough sense to put a robe over her pajamas before opening the door and admitting a partially soaked Jack O'Neill into her home.
He stepped in slowly, and seemed to approach her with ambivalence. At that moment, time seemed to steady and slow to a melodious crawl as they surveyed each other in the pearly light emitted by the moon. His breath caught in his throat, tiny droplets of rain dripped from the ends of his greying hair. Sam was arrested by the strangeness of this encounter, her mind unwittingly recalling that tortuous time when they had been diverted from their Stargate by a power surge that had plunged them into the middle of the Antarctic landscape. She had lain beside him as he was dying and she had inwardly sobbed as his will slowly drained away, using his ebbing energy to faintly grasp at that pinpoint of hope that had sustained him before. She had heard him whisper "Sara" in a tone of such gentle salvation that all she wished then was to give his vision some life ... And so she had replied with a broken voice, "Jack", while rebellious tears coursed down her face. She had wished then that *she* could have been that saviour, the person he would cling to in the last moments before death. And standing there, facing him tonight, it was as if that was what his eyes were conveying to her, that she would be the one who he would hold on to, hold on until there was no longer the will for him to hold on.
Sam's thoughts were whirling about in a tumultuous manner, crowding out her ability to think. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The silence seemed to hang undispelled in the air between them.
Suddenly, he bridged the space between them with one determined step, wrapped his battle scarred hands around her face and kissed her gently. This barely took a fraction of a second to register with Sam before she responded, pressing her lips more forcefully to his. She could taste the bitterness left by the whiskey he must have been drinking before he had come over to see her. She lost all track of time as she felt her own hands moving unbidden, one wounding around his body and the other running through his closely cropped hair. They emitted no sound; it was a softly sweet moment tempered with gentle, newly-released passions.
At long last they disentangled their bodies from one another. Sam couldn't really tell who had instigated this; she just knew that one moment their lips were locked in a heated embrace, and the next they were standing awkwardly facing each other, his frame outlined from behind by the softness of the moon. Its light cast a pale glow over the contours of his face.
He shifted uncomfortably, visibly ill at ease. Sam wished she knew what to do; hours of military training in dealing with unusual situations didn't particularly help in this one. Even her trademark logic deserted her just then. She thought how ridiculous it was for them to be standing there gawking at each other in the middle of the night, and so made a move to let him in.
"Sir, why don't you -"
"Sam, that was just -" They started speaking at the same instant. Sam's cheeks coloured as the Colonel gestured for her to go first.
"Sir, I was just going to say, why don't you come in? It'd probably be more comfortable inside."
"Much warmer." He smiled and stepped further into the house, allowing her to close the door gently behind him. Sam could see how nervous he was - he fidgeted with his hands, then stuck them into the pockets of his jacket.
"Ah ... hey, you know, when we're on stand down, you don't *really* have to call me Sir if you don't want to. Jack's fine with me." He looked at her pointedly.
"Okay ... Jack." Sam uttered the words uncertainly. She felt very strange using the his name, as if by doing so it would bring him closer to her. She had only ever used his name in times of distress.
He was looking around her lounge room in obvious discomfort. Neither knew exactly what was going on and the exchange at the doorway just a few moments before served to plunge them into a state of confusion. Sam had been relatively composed before opening the door, but now ... she smiled at Jack a little hesitantly.
"Ah, Sir ... Jack ... do you want something to drink? Something ... I've got water ... orange juice ... beer ..."
"No, no ... it's fine Sam ...ah ...Do *you* wanna get something for yourself?"
"Oh - no, it's okay." An awkward pause ensued. "Why don't we sit down - and ... *talk*." She gestured to the sofa in the lounge room.
"Yeah ... *talk*..." Jack gave the word a sarcastic emphasis as he seated himself somewhat gingerly down onto the comfortably sofa. "I was never very good at that." He gave her a rueful smile.
Sam smiled warmly if a little uncomfortably in reply. She had trouble even contemplating that she and Colonel O'Neill ... Jack ... were sitting in her house in the middle of the night and doing ... well God knows what they were going to do.
"This is uncomfortable." She said light-heartedly, in an effort to break the silence.
"*Really* uncomfortable Sam." They shared an awkward laugh. Sam noticed that he had used her name more times in this conversation than he had collectively during their missions this year. Her mind reeled at the implications.
"So ... I never got to really talk to you about the whole 'twin' thing. How are you really doing about that?"
Sam was taken aback by his directness. As long as she had known him, Jack O'Neill had rarely instigated direct emotional contact. Sure, there had been times when he had ventured to ask her, Daniel or Teal'c how they were coping with certain things, but it had always been done in the capacity of a commanding officer, or as a friend. Here ... well, she was pretty sure that he wasn't addressing the question to her in his former capacity. The surprise shocked her into awkward truthfulness.
"I ... it was really weird looking at her. It was like looking into a mirror, except the image was of myself as I could have been, if not for some choices I had to make in my life. I mean, we were so alike in so many ways ... yet, so different." She ventured a look towards him. His hazel eyes were clouded with intense concern. "I mean, she was married to -" here Sam stopped herself, embarrassed to state the obvious. "She was married for one thing ... and for another she wasn't in the Air Force ... I can't imagine myself doing that." Jack was nodding, considerately remaining silent.
Sam inhaled deeply. She was skirting around the obvious issue here, the thing that had not allowed her to sleep, that which had propelled Jack over to come see her at this time of night, and both of them knew it. She decided to take the plunge and confront her feelings towards him ... before she lost her nerve.
"Actually, the thing that bothered me the most was ... *us*." She looked straight into his eyes and saw a conflict of warring emotions in its expressive depths. "What might have been ... or what it could be ..." at this she kept her eyes firmly on the spot above her knee. She had just lost the bravery that had helped her utter those words, and now she felt the courage sapping out of her. This was proving to be more emotionally taxing than many of their missions through the Stargate.
Jack gingerly tilted her chin up towards him until her unwilling gaze met his. With his other hand, he brushed loose strands of her hair from her face, the gesture evolving into a gentle caress. Mesmerised, she felt a tingle of happiness emanating from his touch. She had no idea that Jack O'Neill was capable of such loving caresses.
Jack cupped her face with his hands. "Sam ... I'm not good at expressing myself ..." Sam gave him a slight smile, acknowledging the truth of that statement. "But I *can* say this. You make me want to live. That time on Antarctica ... that was *you*." He had dropped all the covering sarcasm that was characteristically in his voice and looked deeply into her eyes.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, Samantha Carter." Without further comment he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in an infinitely more passionate exchange. Sam could feel his breath tingle on her skin as he leaned over and covered her neck with kisses while she buried her hands in his hair. She felt his hands close around her hips and thrilled with the anticipation of them travelling lower. Sam pressed her body firmly against his as they met in a spasm of heightened sensations, melding together like white molten metal. She allowed him to lift her slightly up from the couch so that he now lay on top of her.
"Wait, Jack." Sam broke their heated embrace. The whole situation didn't feel right. She feared that they were rushing too quickly into things that could never be reversed. She didn't want them to jump into bed and hump each other crazy like rabbits.
Although she was sorely tempted to do so.
They were both breathing erratically from unsatiated passions. "I think ... we shouldn't be rushing this. I mean, there are consequences ..." She let her thought trail off and Jack caught her meaning right away.
"Yeah ... it's probably not a good idea right now." His eyes seemed to war with his words and Sam felt sure that her own eyes were doing the same. Nevertheless, they knew the importance of flouting the rules, and knew that before anything serious happened they needed to figure out exactly what they wanted to happen without allowing the powers that be to disband SG-1. Jack was important to her, Sam knew that. But she also knew that the other most important thing was being able to take part in the Stargate project.
They sat up, rearranging their clothes that had gotten dishevelled in their amorous wrestling. Jack gave her a wry grin that seemed to say, Now what?
"Sir ... Jack." Sam corrected herself just in time, despite what had transpired between them moments before. "It's probably too late for you to head back home now ... so if you want, you could stay here."
"Sure." Jack couldn't have imagined a better invitation and grinned playfully. "The couch seems kinda lumpy to me ... mind if we bunk together?" He had asked that to shock her, not expecting her to seriously contemplate it.
Sam was up for the challenge. "Sure Colonel, if you can behave yourself." She gave him a alluring smile, wordlessly spun around and headed for the bedroom with Jack in tow. She had the distinct satisfaction of seeing his self-assured grin crack at her comment, but a moment later it was back.
"Only if you help me, Major." She broke into a smile at his suggestion and climbed into bed, every fibre of her being tensing in anticipation. She heard him take off his semi-soaked shirt and gently got into the bed beside her.
Sam was glad that they hadn't done anything tonight that they were regret later on. It was just so nice to feel his strong arms encircle her, and experience that saturatingly happy tingle that coursed through her as he laid beside her. Looking back, she had probably wished this exact same thing to happen on countless missions when they had been forced to sleep in the wilderness due to lack of shelter. She would have liked to sleep under the canvas of the stars in his arms, feel assured that he would always be there for her, and she for him.
Sam smiled into the darkness. She felt wonderfully reassured that tomorrow, she was going to wake up in the arms of a man that she was halfway to loving with all her heart and soul.
**********
Sam felt the warmth of the morning sunlight on her face as she slowly emerged from her dreamless, contented sleep. She felt gloweringly happy as she sensed the strong yet gentle embrace of the man still slumbering beside her. Jack's breathing was slow and steady, rhythmically propelling his body up and down. Sam looked up into his face and saw an expression she had rarely seen before - his forehead was less crinkled with worry, the lines less finely etched and the mask of slumber had the effect of temporarily stripping the pain and stress from his well-defined features, the combination of which made him appear calm and at peace. Sam realised that *this* is what he would have looked like without all the pain and sorrow he had experienced in his life - a younger, brighter, more enthusiastic version of him. But then she reflected that all the other possible permutations of him were not the same as this Jack ... *her* Jack.
Sam smiled more deeply this time, her dimples appearing. She really liked the thought of her Jack.
Her quiet contemplation of him was interrupted by its subject. The Colonel stirred, his arms tightening around Sam before loosening again as he slowly opened his eyes. Her round blue eyes met his half-opened hazel ones as they took a moment to simply absorb the presence of each other.
"Morning Major." He said teasingly as he broke into an unrestrained smile. His brown eyes danced in the morning light, and Sam had never seen him looking so alive and happy. Was this all due to her?
"Morning ... Colonel." Sam wrapped her arms around his body and pressed herself tighter against him. She was happy, although still a little unnerved that her commanding officer was rather unplatonically sharing the same bed as her. Being with him was however rapidly becoming more comfortably by the minute, and Sam knew that in another couple of hours she wouldn't be able to imagine living without him. She smiled at the thought.
She had smiled a lot that day.
"How did you sleep?" Sam asked, tilting her head up towards him as she spoke.
His smile deepened and his eyes looked down at her, conveying an honest and heartfelt appreciation. "The best I've had in a long time." He replied quietly.
Sam knew what he had meant by that. He had told her some time ago that he had trouble sleeping ever since his son had died. Haunted by nightmares and visions of a son blaming him for his carelessness.
They remained quiet at that, each deeply lost in their own reflections. Sam knew Jack well and they were close, but sometimes she had no idea what he was thinking. That unsettled her a little; she was the type of person who needed to see what kind of ground she was standing on.
After an hour spent laying on the bed wrapped in each other's arms, Sam got up and headed for the bathroom. Jack, with a playfully injured look on his face, said, "Hey Sam, where're you going? I haven't finished with you!"
Sam poked her head back into the room, making herself just visible. She had already undressed and there was nothing but a towel around her body.
"I'm just going to take a shower, then we can decide what we want to do today ... unless of course, you want to watch me study the naquadah generator we got from Orban?"
Jack needed an extra moment to recover from the sight of a near-naked Sam in such close proximity to him. His jaw was till hanging slightly open.
"No, no ... I think we'll go with the first plan. I think I'd like that a little more than studying that generator thing anyway." Sam threw him a smile as she headed back for the bathroom.
"Hey Sam ... need any help in there?" Jack was enjoying being so relaxed with her.
"Uh ... no, I think I can manage okay. It's not like I don't do this everyday." Jack could hear her golden smile resonating in her voice.
"Yeah ... can't blame a guy for trying!." He chuckled a little at the thought. This felt so good. Being relaxed, being free from worry, if just for a moment or two ... and mostly, being with Sam.
Well, it wasn't like he hadn't spent time with her before, what with going on so many missions together and having some damn close shaves during that time. But ... this was different ... completely, totally different.
Jack lay flat on his back staring at the ceiling as thoughts of Charlie crept into his consciousness. For the first time, thinking about him here, the memories didn't seem as painfully searing, nor laced with as much anger and regret. He could now remember the good times and smile, remembering what a good kid his son had been. The good memories were bright and golden as his son was golden, and although he would never forgive himself for what happened to Charlie, the acidic self-loathing that accompanied it seemed to be diminishing gradually with each passing day. Thinking about him still brought up bittersweet sensations, but at least this newer feeling didn't seem as self-destructive. His tortured heart would never let him forgive ... but being with Sam, even for this short a time, had eased his heartache just a little.
His thoughts were interrupted by the melodic chime of the doorbell. Jack lay completely still as indecision racked his body. He had no idea what to do. He could a) answer the door and surprise the hell out of whoever was on the other side, or b) not answer it and hope that it wasn't an emergency summons from the SGC. He hadn't discussed with Sam the finer details of their ... *whatever* they had here. She could get mad if he took it upon himself to make decisions that would impact on both of them without telling her. Women often did things like that.
(c) January 2001