Title: Antiphony of the heart-Part 5
Author: atheniandream/Jawbreakerchick/Paisleychick, my alter egos :)
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Content Warnings: Angst, Action hopefully, Romance, other stuff!!!
Pairings: Sam/Jack, friendship, other stuff
Spoilers: None!
Season: Six, a little in accurate...but I like it.
Rating: r maybe, def pg
Summary: Love, Being, Making and the new...final part of the story!!
Author's notes: finally finished
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of
Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA,
Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is
for entertainment purposes only and no money
exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original
characters, situations, and story are the property
of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the
consent of the author.
ANTIPHONY OF THE HEART-PART FIVE
{and } indicate non-episode related flashbacks.
"What *are* you doing in my bed Jack?" Sensing that 'Colonel' would be
extremely in appropriate right now, she tried to steal back as much of
her quilt as possible, covering the largest portion of her skin that she could manage,
which left him unfortunately with nothing.
Not a thing.
"Hey, do you mind?!"
"I don't know, do you?"
"Well, you do you."
"Yes I mind." she mumbled, fumbling her way down to the end of the bed and grasping her
dressing down in the process.
Jack meanwhile had turned around, fiddling idly with his boxers, "Carter,"
No, uh-uh
"Don't call me that!" she warned.
"But that's what I *have* to call ya. Carter?" her silence was disturbing and very worrying.
"Carter?"
"I think you should leave, Sir."
"What?"
She didn't answer him verbally, but chose here avoiding the question to answer through her body.
"I need coffee."
He didn't want to touch her. it was inappropriate and too familiar right now.
She didn't remember. Or was it that she didn't want to....
Damn it Sam...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mixed up, every which way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The distant click of the coffee machine registered in her mind, picking up the jug of coffee
and introducing it to the lumpy concoction of milk and sugar, she stirred slowly mimicking the
swim of 'the morning after the drinking' in her head. Had she really drunken that much? Of
course, she'd eaten during the previous evening, but she used to swear that Janet's wine was
laced, either that or foreign..
Taking a slow sip of her coffee, the effect of the stimulant took effect, put the spinning in
her head was worse and it only highlighted the fact that lips and throat were sore. it didn't
bear thinking about.....
{"Sam?" She froze, not even able to place her milk on the kitchen side as stood in front of him,
in nothing short of a very small tank top and shorts. "Uh, hi. In bed?" "Oh Amy, yea. I
think I'm gonna get goin."}
But he didn't.
And she wouldn't let him.
She sipped her Coffee again.
{"Wait, you're over the limit, stay here." His eyes glazed, did he understand her right?"
"What? no, Carter it's fine, really." God, what did I drink? She walked a little closer.
she couldn't let him go home, and she definitely couldn't take him home. She placed a hand on
his arm, letting the warmth feed her cold skin.}
What did I do?
"Oh shit.", she mumbled, taking another sip, and wincing at the bitterness of it.
{"Sir. stay." she let her words linger, not sure if she had said what she wanted to, an not
sure how he'd taken it. His presence registered nearer, he gaze turned, lucid and aware, but
still verging on hazy and sleep ridden. "Carter?" his eyes held hers, drawing nearer. "Stay."}
And He did.
God, how could she be so idiotic.
A glutton for bitter punishments, why?
Because when you find a piece to fit the puzzle everything makes sense, and everything tries
to make sense.
{"Are you sure?" his voice was quiet, maybe a question more self-suited and rhetorical.}
She didn't answer, but he got his.
And in return she got hers.
The coffee started to act it's way through her body, releasing all of the textured strain,
causing her release from reality.
Just to revel in it.
{Flesh forced itself against naked flesh, a vivid temperature roused between them, the
pressure of her lips against his searching for each other, a distinct lack of reverence
and care...."You okay." She moaned in response, knowing that it wouldn't' be the last time,
as he roused her temperature to a sudden-}
"Carter?"
"Coffee?" She replied calmly and professionally, still lingering in her memory.
"Uh thanks, but I think I should be-" he placed his sweater on the coffee table.
"Drink some coffee Jack." She replied inanely. It was the only way to stay focused.
Without going awol at their behaviour.
Moving to give him the mug, which positioned itself on the side between them, she hadn't
prepared herself for the notion that he would grab it too.
Her eyes darted to him, unsure of which was to let.
Either.
Neither.
Or both?
Only, he pulled the cup, moving her with it.
She was only now, aware of the level of the situation she was caught up in, placing the
cup along side
him on the counter.
the one thing learnt from years of Jack O'Neill as that what he wanted, he usually got.
Not through selfishness, nor the threat of being over sure of himself, but by just being.
Irresistible.
She knew.
And in turn had run and run to get away from it.
Running from compliments.
Looks.
Stares.
Stolen glances, and fishing invitations.
And through denying illegitimate children.
"Jack?" Her voice laced huskily and unsure. She questioned the motive. Not quite sure whose
it was.
But it didn't matter.
"Sam," Replying, not in question, but just in revelation.
Carter'd been stripped.
Bare.
And it made him tingle. Shivering, he ran his fingers lightly down her breastbone, feeling
the warm beating skin below his hands. His closeness instinctively arched her neck, riding a
stiff controlled breath with it. He lips sought his neck momentarily, then arching again, His
arms ran along her back,
And tasted his coffee. Bitter-sweet and lingering her lips still sore from their last
encounter.
A wave of intent pushed and pulled at his restraint, arms forcing backwards. For the
first time, willingly melting and docile, he found the counter behind them, grinding
her slowly into it.
Fraying his dignity.
Burying hers.
Every step I take,
Leads to one mistake,
I keep going back to one thing that need,
To walk away from...
"Morning, Whoa." A bright and usual cheery face soured the moment.
They broke apart immediately, as Sam adjusted her gown and ignored the pained look that Jack
was giving her. "Yea, hi, we were just uh-"
"Making out in the kitchen?" Her amused tone and eased posture, didn't make it any easier to
achieve normality in a situation like this.
"Okay, *I* have to go. I'll see you guys later." Jack darted for the door, grabbing his
jacket and holding his sweater.
Okay.......Odd moment.
She turned to Amy, who had been painfully trying to stifle a grin behind well-expressed
concern.
"I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" she replied as nicely as she could.
What was there to say.
"Okay."
It was a easy as that.
For now.
============================================================
Easy for now, until the options start to present themselves...
=============================================================
The darkness clouded his vision, seeping into his surroundings,
His chair.
The table.
Him and a beer.
It could be so easy to forget those nights alone.
But the one night different from all the rest, just wouldn't stop beating. Continuously
replaying like a broken record, droning and distinct.
Just like the memory that painted yesterday.
But, out of sight, out of mind, right?
So, in burying it away in the deepest, darkest place in your mind, so that it would only
bare shadows for company.
Never to be risen nor awoken.
You can assist the illusion of forgotten thoughts.
But laying quietly and soundly amidst a mountain of thoughts and forbidden desires.
Conjured up by nothing more than faith, dreams, promises of things he wanted and things
he knew she couldn't give him.
It lay, haunting nervously.
Hope.
Slight and unsure.
Still lingered enough to keep him from water.
Yet still there, crawling beneath his shame and regret that had spilled over and now running,
everywhere.
What could he do?
What should he do?
What he wanted to do.
So why was he sad?
He'd taken what he wanted, and she willingly reciprocated, kissing him with just as much
passion as he was kissing her.
Still, the awkwardness of their twisted situation was still at the roots of conflict,
leaving a sour lime taste to grip roughly at the back of his throat.
He took another sip of beer.
To try forget that he was supposed to be forgetting.
That night.
That morning.
And her
Wanting him.
=======================================================
Love never suggests the willingness to progress.
Nor does it doubt the notion...
=======================================================
Monday, 11:00am.
Once the day had set and risen into Monday, thoughts feelings had left themselves raw and
unresolved.
After all, there were more pressing issue floating around.
There it was again. Her reflection, a lucid resemblance to her physical being.
Leaning further in, she rubbed a careless hand through her hair, playing idly with two or
three unruly strands.
"Amy? Cassie's going to be here soon. Are you ready?"
She looked down at her watch, 'two hours till the briefing' she thought.
"Almost." Came a reply, as the she closed the long expanse of the airy corridor that stood
between them.
"You look nice." She complimented, taking in how different she looked with present clothing
styles
on. "I see it fits?" She pointed to the Jeans and simple blue tank top that they'd bought the
day previous.
"Yea. It's definitely something that I've never worn before. A lot of things are gonna changed
in
10 years."
"Yea? Ya know, I guessed that." Amy repaid a warm smile to her humour. It wasn't unlike hers.
A definitely shared the traits of his. "No wonder I ended up with sarcasm for humour." Mixing
a grin in for good measure as she made her way next to Sam, and 'took over' the mirroring
privileges.
knock
All Sam could do was grin, pushing the girl and her coat towards the door.
"Go on, Janet's just pulled up, you look beautiful, go have fun."
"Okay, Okay! I'm going. Have a fun at work."
"I will go."
Just as she turned to shut the door, her voice called out.
"Amy?"
"What?"
"You don't know to get home, do you?"
"What?" he faced stoned, her eyes widening at her 'out of the blue' comment. Hiding?
"Home., to your time? You don't know how you can, get back do you?"
Staring at the girl searching her face.
Finding nothing.
"No. Nope. Sorry." She smiled shortly and attempted to escape once more.
"Anything else?" She kept her tone calm.
"Did you put your dirty clothes in the laundry?"
"Um....I got to go." Came a mumble and a slammed door on a bemused mother.
Teenagers.
Odd little things.
Thank the gods, that I'm not still one...
=============================================================
A surprising stubbornness for finding the truth and solution to life long problems.
Damn Toaster. I just *won't* work......damn it....
=============================================================
All Sam could do was stare.
If one small teenage girl could make this amount of mess, just trying to get ready for a casual
day out, she dreaded to think how bad the mess would be on a permanent basis.
Bedding over-turned and sprawled in an almost modern-artistic fashion, the her back-which she'd
brought through the gate sure carried a lot of contents, which not to her surprise remained in
unorganised piles on the floor.
She was starting to under stand what Janet had told her in her highly detailed 'A Dummie's
manual on coping and looking after teenagers' discussion.
{"It's not going to be that Hard Janet. It's not like she's a baby. And besides, it's only for
a few days." She tried to say between sips of her coffee.
"Oh, That's what *you* think? Remember what a cutie Cassie was?"
"God, I remember." She felt a twang of Love and warmth in remembering the first time she'd met
Cassie.
"Well, there wonderful until they get to the 'Little Monsters' stage,"
She laughed at her friend's Over-expressive comment.
"Oh you can laugh now. but when they reach their teens, they get SO much worse. Boyfriends."
"I'll handle it. Well If I don't drown in a sea pre-adolescent hormones!"}
Sighing to herself, she picked up a small coat by the sleeve to find a piece of screwed up paper
roll from beneath the unusual fabric.
Picking up the piece of paper, she began to unravel it, revealing carelessly handled writing:
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Monday, 18:23:30hrs.
Only way back, and don't run...
What the hell?
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
=========================
The finding of solutions.
=========================
13:15:26hrs
Four men sat around a large table.
"I'm gonna have to start without her Colonel, it's been 10 minutes already."
For the last seven and a half minutes, Jack had screwed up a piece of yellow notepaper.
Then unrolled neatly and precisely on the table.
But settled by screwing it back up again.
Where the hell as she? Carter was *never* late.
She couldn't bare to be.
Something's soooo wrong.
"There's something wrong, General."
"O'Neill is indeed correct General, Major Carter would have alerted us of such a matter if she
were to be deliberately delayed."
"I'm aware of that Teal'c, but I have several other meetings after this."
"Has anyone tried her Cell phone?" Jonas interjected from his quiet corner of the briefing room
table.
"Sorry I'm late General." Each of their heads shot towards her presence at the door.
"Carter. What's wrong with phone? We were starting to get worried here."
She barely glanced towards him in the process of sitting down, nor acknowledged him even.
The Tenseness and stress lines indented in her forehead reflected back at his frown.
She hadn't even looked at him.
"I apologize sir." Came a tightly respective response.
It was if the pain, the acrid tensions between them and all the emotions had become encased in
some temporal deflective loop.
Loops he DIDN'T like.
"Sir," She turned to the General. "I found something. Something that I'm sure I wasn't meant to
find," She took in a cold breath. Even though it had nothing to do with the temperature in the
room, in the back of her mind, *it* feared the worst was coming. She revealed the piece of paper
and placed it in the middle of the table.
"Major? Care to explain?" Jack's bitter comment only fuelled her awkwardness towards him.
She chose to ignore him in the most polite and subordinate way in which a 2IC could be towards
the man and CO she'd slept with.
"Sir, this piece of paper gives us details of the next flair, which is scheduled to happen at
13:15 hours. Today."
"Well that's a result Major."
"Accept sir, Amy, I'm mean Amerdian doesn't know that found it in her coat pocket. She also
denied all knowledge of being able to get through back home through the gate when I asked her
minutes before finding this."
"I see Major." Sighing, he carefully placed his hands on the desk in front of him.
"Unfortunately had this option not arisen, I was going to negotiate accommodation for Ameridian.
But as you all know, in light of this new information and during our experience of messages from
the future and time travel, I half no alternative but to send her back to the time that she came from."
"I understand, Sir." And she did.
But it failed at making the situation any better for her.
And *She* was the one having to deal.
All the cards...
====================================================
When I cry, nothing changes, it just heightens the pain, produces a problem with a reason,
but that never solves the problem. I try to talk to people, yet my awkward stubbornness gets
in the way, and prevents a solution....-My thoughts, seem pretty relevant now, 20.08/02.
====================================================
Here it is, she thought.
The end. The milestone.
I'm never going to see her again, and I'm the one having to do this.
The Colonel's stayed about as far away from 'us' as can.
Hard *for* Him?
More like hard for us...
Turning the handle of the door between them, she braced herself,
saying to herself that it was for the best. She was doing it for 'her'.
*Her* daughter.
knock
"Come in."
"Hi, How was your day?"
"Great. Cassie's a blast to hang out with." She looked up at her from her bed as she picked
anonymous objects out of her bag, placing them in front of her.
"I'm glad." She continued to push the pain and guilt from surfacing in her voice. "Listen, we
have to talk."
"About what?" Amy returned her gaze, not at all fazed or hesitant at Carter's expression.
"I was tidying up in here, and *this* fell out of your coat pocket. Why did you lie to me about
not knowing how to get home."
The Face staring at same with a smile on her face almost moments ago, now fell of with out even
a thought. "What? I..."
She stood up from the other side of the bed, tears immediately dilating her bloodshot eyes.
"Why did you lie Amy? Why?" Sam tried to be the parent, to mediate in the situation. Meet her in the middle. But for once, her emotions would let her.
Eyes wide and screaming.
"I,"
"What?!" Her one came, agitated and angry all at once.
The frustration of the whole Situation had finally gotten to her.
"I, I." Looking though crystalloid eyes, she shrugged. "I wanted to meet *my* parents. I wanted
to experience what it would be like, just for a day. To be with my *real* family, not my..."
"What?"
"I live with Cassie, and David. In the future." She turned her from Sam, her gaze faltering
towards her feet.
"As in Cassandra?" She couldn't help but look shocked.
She must owe her like years worth of baby-sitting fees.....
"I told you she was nice. When you died, she said that she' always look after me. she helped me
get through the Stargate."
"Then you were meant to stay here?"
"No," Came her quiet reply, as she wiped her tears on her sleeve.
"Everyone was so nice when I arrived," She replied, watery mouthed and stonily pale.
"It made me feel like home, and then I didn't want to leave."
Sighing, she walked towards the crying young girl, slowly sliding her arms around her.
"And we'll always be your home, sweety. But you have to go back."
"I know."
She truly whished that she did. For her sake.
"We better go. We haven't got much time."
=================================
Time is precious.
We use it to tell the people in our
lives how much we love them, and
wouldn't trade them for the world.
=================================
Four minutes to go.
The timer counted down.
Sg-1, Hammond and Amerdian waited in the Gate room anxiously for the Sf's in the
Control room.
Waiting for the god ahead.
An everlasting absolution.
That *could* pass them by without knowing.
So they waited.
"I'm gonna miss you Teal'c." Amy stood in front of the tall man who drew her into a hug.
"I will miss you 'Amerdian'."
Next in the line came Jonas, who had gone for the hands off approach, judging by the fact that
the Colonel was carefully watching him out of the corner of his eye.
"Take care Amy, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"You two Jonas." She smiled at him, before coming to stand in front of him.
"Hey kiddo."
"So, what do I call you?"
"Well scene as you're going. Uh, 'Dad'?"
"Sure Dad."
He had to smile at that. Even though they hadn't been exactly close over the last two days,
The bond they'd discovered would always remain.
He knew that much, if nothing else.
And pulled her into hug as a result.
"Hey Dad! quit messin' up my hair!"
"Uh! Don't over use it,"
She smiled back at him, before turning finally to Sam.
"Hey." Came the whisper.
"Hey." She whispered in return, smiling. Immediately her eyes welled, and she pulled her
into a hug.
"I don't know why I crying,"
"Gonna miss me?"
"Uh-huh," She managed though the well tears streaming down her cheeks. "You are Beautiful.
Don't
let anyone tell you otherwise. You hear me?"
Those words, only made her hold on tighter. Never wanting to let go, and wanting to stay like
this forever. Letting this moment repeat forever, and revel in it. Forever...
"Thank you. for all you've done."
"You're welcome."
"Would you promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Be happy?"
"Always." Se knew what the girl meant.
That much, She *could* promise.
Just in time, Sergeant Walter Davis called for the ten second count down over the microphone.
This was it.
"9, 8,"
Turning to her one last time, Sam had almost forgotten the most important thing.
"Remember, that I love you. I always have," She briefly cupped her face before leading her
towards the gate.
"4, 3, 2,"
"Go."
And the smile was the last she saw.
"You think she'll be okay?" Asked Jonas.
"I do believe that she resembles both of her parents. She will be fine."
"Yea, O'Neill kids, they're all fighters." The Colonel interjected matter-of-factly.
============================================
Physical and spiritual cries are no different from one another; both vividly expressing the
outline or boundary of pain, anxiety, hurt or, inadequacy, reaching into the heart of everyone
around them.-thoughts, 20/08/02
============================================
Two weeks later.
All things had pretty much gotten back to normal.
Missions were being loaded in by the dozen,
And Sam was back to her normal heavy worked load. Which she loved.
And the Colonel and her hadn't talked in over two weeks.
Everything was 'normal'.
"Janet, am I done yet? I have a neutron analysis to get done by five." She called out
impatiently from behind the curtain.
She'd been here over half an hour for a check-up following their last mission, complaining of
severe indigestion and heartburn, supposedly from eating something 'blue' off world.
"That's the last time eat something blue, without the word Jell-o plastered on it."
Aware that Janet, albeit no one was listening, she stuck her head round the corner.
"Sam, could you come here for a second." The Doc called down the hall.
Turning the corner into Janet's office she quietly closed the door. "What is it?"
"Um Sam, how are you feeling?" She asked very calmly, and professionally, motioning her to
sit down.
"I'm okay. I haven't really been sleeping lately. And I have his dislike lately, towards turkey.
I'm not *sure* if it had anything to do with this program Jonas made me watch about them,
but-what?" The change in the doc's expression, which grew continuously more tense and worried,
alerted Sam, turning her on edge."
"Um, you're pregnant, Sam."
"What?" She laughed the comment off, not only was it ludicrous, completely in accurate and
impossible, was it was also.
"There's no error Sam. You're pregnant.
The pebble hit the water like an avalanche, and caused splash even more colossal.
"I'm?"
"Pregnant."
The statement took her breath away all at once. Causing her to stand.
"I'm,-"
"Get Doc," At that moment, Jack marched into the doorway. "Are you done with Carter or is she-"
Into Sam. "Pregnant." Blues could do nothing, but stare.
Brown eyes grew even wider still.
Neither talked.
They knew all the answers.
=============================================================
I wondered to myself why I didn't finish this, as some of you may well comment on...
FATE, is nothing more than the exquisite power of predetermined events, unalterably from
eternity.
But no 'thing' or such like can prove that the path cannot not be indirectly woven, into the
same outcome.
Besides, I 'never' changed the future...
========================
The End The End The End
========================
Athena
Author: atheniandream/Jawbreakerchick/Paisleychick, my alter egos :)
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Content Warnings: Angst, Action hopefully, Romance, other stuff!!!
Pairings: Sam/Jack, friendship, other stuff
Spoilers: None!
Season: Six, a little in accurate...but I like it.
Rating: r maybe, def pg
Summary: Love, Being, Making and the new...final part of the story!!
Author's notes: finally finished
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of
Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA,
Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is
for entertainment purposes only and no money
exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original
characters, situations, and story are the property
of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the
consent of the author.
ANTIPHONY OF THE HEART-PART FIVE
{and } indicate non-episode related flashbacks.
"What *are* you doing in my bed Jack?" Sensing that 'Colonel' would be
extremely in appropriate right now, she tried to steal back as much of
her quilt as possible, covering the largest portion of her skin that she could manage,
which left him unfortunately with nothing.
Not a thing.
"Hey, do you mind?!"
"I don't know, do you?"
"Well, you do you."
"Yes I mind." she mumbled, fumbling her way down to the end of the bed and grasping her
dressing down in the process.
Jack meanwhile had turned around, fiddling idly with his boxers, "Carter,"
No, uh-uh
"Don't call me that!" she warned.
"But that's what I *have* to call ya. Carter?" her silence was disturbing and very worrying.
"Carter?"
"I think you should leave, Sir."
"What?"
She didn't answer him verbally, but chose here avoiding the question to answer through her body.
"I need coffee."
He didn't want to touch her. it was inappropriate and too familiar right now.
She didn't remember. Or was it that she didn't want to....
Damn it Sam...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mixed up, every which way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The distant click of the coffee machine registered in her mind, picking up the jug of coffee
and introducing it to the lumpy concoction of milk and sugar, she stirred slowly mimicking the
swim of 'the morning after the drinking' in her head. Had she really drunken that much? Of
course, she'd eaten during the previous evening, but she used to swear that Janet's wine was
laced, either that or foreign..
Taking a slow sip of her coffee, the effect of the stimulant took effect, put the spinning in
her head was worse and it only highlighted the fact that lips and throat were sore. it didn't
bear thinking about.....
{"Sam?" She froze, not even able to place her milk on the kitchen side as stood in front of him,
in nothing short of a very small tank top and shorts. "Uh, hi. In bed?" "Oh Amy, yea. I
think I'm gonna get goin."}
But he didn't.
And she wouldn't let him.
She sipped her Coffee again.
{"Wait, you're over the limit, stay here." His eyes glazed, did he understand her right?"
"What? no, Carter it's fine, really." God, what did I drink? She walked a little closer.
she couldn't let him go home, and she definitely couldn't take him home. She placed a hand on
his arm, letting the warmth feed her cold skin.}
What did I do?
"Oh shit.", she mumbled, taking another sip, and wincing at the bitterness of it.
{"Sir. stay." she let her words linger, not sure if she had said what she wanted to, an not
sure how he'd taken it. His presence registered nearer, he gaze turned, lucid and aware, but
still verging on hazy and sleep ridden. "Carter?" his eyes held hers, drawing nearer. "Stay."}
And He did.
God, how could she be so idiotic.
A glutton for bitter punishments, why?
Because when you find a piece to fit the puzzle everything makes sense, and everything tries
to make sense.
{"Are you sure?" his voice was quiet, maybe a question more self-suited and rhetorical.}
She didn't answer, but he got his.
And in return she got hers.
The coffee started to act it's way through her body, releasing all of the textured strain,
causing her release from reality.
Just to revel in it.
{Flesh forced itself against naked flesh, a vivid temperature roused between them, the
pressure of her lips against his searching for each other, a distinct lack of reverence
and care...."You okay." She moaned in response, knowing that it wouldn't' be the last time,
as he roused her temperature to a sudden-}
"Carter?"
"Coffee?" She replied calmly and professionally, still lingering in her memory.
"Uh thanks, but I think I should be-" he placed his sweater on the coffee table.
"Drink some coffee Jack." She replied inanely. It was the only way to stay focused.
Without going awol at their behaviour.
Moving to give him the mug, which positioned itself on the side between them, she hadn't
prepared herself for the notion that he would grab it too.
Her eyes darted to him, unsure of which was to let.
Either.
Neither.
Or both?
Only, he pulled the cup, moving her with it.
She was only now, aware of the level of the situation she was caught up in, placing the
cup along side
him on the counter.
the one thing learnt from years of Jack O'Neill as that what he wanted, he usually got.
Not through selfishness, nor the threat of being over sure of himself, but by just being.
Irresistible.
She knew.
And in turn had run and run to get away from it.
Running from compliments.
Looks.
Stares.
Stolen glances, and fishing invitations.
And through denying illegitimate children.
"Jack?" Her voice laced huskily and unsure. She questioned the motive. Not quite sure whose
it was.
But it didn't matter.
"Sam," Replying, not in question, but just in revelation.
Carter'd been stripped.
Bare.
And it made him tingle. Shivering, he ran his fingers lightly down her breastbone, feeling
the warm beating skin below his hands. His closeness instinctively arched her neck, riding a
stiff controlled breath with it. He lips sought his neck momentarily, then arching again, His
arms ran along her back,
And tasted his coffee. Bitter-sweet and lingering her lips still sore from their last
encounter.
A wave of intent pushed and pulled at his restraint, arms forcing backwards. For the
first time, willingly melting and docile, he found the counter behind them, grinding
her slowly into it.
Fraying his dignity.
Burying hers.
Every step I take,
Leads to one mistake,
I keep going back to one thing that need,
To walk away from...
"Morning, Whoa." A bright and usual cheery face soured the moment.
They broke apart immediately, as Sam adjusted her gown and ignored the pained look that Jack
was giving her. "Yea, hi, we were just uh-"
"Making out in the kitchen?" Her amused tone and eased posture, didn't make it any easier to
achieve normality in a situation like this.
"Okay, *I* have to go. I'll see you guys later." Jack darted for the door, grabbing his
jacket and holding his sweater.
Okay.......Odd moment.
She turned to Amy, who had been painfully trying to stifle a grin behind well-expressed
concern.
"I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" she replied as nicely as she could.
What was there to say.
"Okay."
It was a easy as that.
For now.
============================================================
Easy for now, until the options start to present themselves...
=============================================================
The darkness clouded his vision, seeping into his surroundings,
His chair.
The table.
Him and a beer.
It could be so easy to forget those nights alone.
But the one night different from all the rest, just wouldn't stop beating. Continuously
replaying like a broken record, droning and distinct.
Just like the memory that painted yesterday.
But, out of sight, out of mind, right?
So, in burying it away in the deepest, darkest place in your mind, so that it would only
bare shadows for company.
Never to be risen nor awoken.
You can assist the illusion of forgotten thoughts.
But laying quietly and soundly amidst a mountain of thoughts and forbidden desires.
Conjured up by nothing more than faith, dreams, promises of things he wanted and things
he knew she couldn't give him.
It lay, haunting nervously.
Hope.
Slight and unsure.
Still lingered enough to keep him from water.
Yet still there, crawling beneath his shame and regret that had spilled over and now running,
everywhere.
What could he do?
What should he do?
What he wanted to do.
So why was he sad?
He'd taken what he wanted, and she willingly reciprocated, kissing him with just as much
passion as he was kissing her.
Still, the awkwardness of their twisted situation was still at the roots of conflict,
leaving a sour lime taste to grip roughly at the back of his throat.
He took another sip of beer.
To try forget that he was supposed to be forgetting.
That night.
That morning.
And her
Wanting him.
=======================================================
Love never suggests the willingness to progress.
Nor does it doubt the notion...
=======================================================
Monday, 11:00am.
Once the day had set and risen into Monday, thoughts feelings had left themselves raw and
unresolved.
After all, there were more pressing issue floating around.
There it was again. Her reflection, a lucid resemblance to her physical being.
Leaning further in, she rubbed a careless hand through her hair, playing idly with two or
three unruly strands.
"Amy? Cassie's going to be here soon. Are you ready?"
She looked down at her watch, 'two hours till the briefing' she thought.
"Almost." Came a reply, as the she closed the long expanse of the airy corridor that stood
between them.
"You look nice." She complimented, taking in how different she looked with present clothing
styles
on. "I see it fits?" She pointed to the Jeans and simple blue tank top that they'd bought the
day previous.
"Yea. It's definitely something that I've never worn before. A lot of things are gonna changed
in
10 years."
"Yea? Ya know, I guessed that." Amy repaid a warm smile to her humour. It wasn't unlike hers.
A definitely shared the traits of his. "No wonder I ended up with sarcasm for humour." Mixing
a grin in for good measure as she made her way next to Sam, and 'took over' the mirroring
privileges.
knock
All Sam could do was grin, pushing the girl and her coat towards the door.
"Go on, Janet's just pulled up, you look beautiful, go have fun."
"Okay, Okay! I'm going. Have a fun at work."
"I will go."
Just as she turned to shut the door, her voice called out.
"Amy?"
"What?"
"You don't know to get home, do you?"
"What?" he faced stoned, her eyes widening at her 'out of the blue' comment. Hiding?
"Home., to your time? You don't know how you can, get back do you?"
Staring at the girl searching her face.
Finding nothing.
"No. Nope. Sorry." She smiled shortly and attempted to escape once more.
"Anything else?" She kept her tone calm.
"Did you put your dirty clothes in the laundry?"
"Um....I got to go." Came a mumble and a slammed door on a bemused mother.
Teenagers.
Odd little things.
Thank the gods, that I'm not still one...
=============================================================
A surprising stubbornness for finding the truth and solution to life long problems.
Damn Toaster. I just *won't* work......damn it....
=============================================================
All Sam could do was stare.
If one small teenage girl could make this amount of mess, just trying to get ready for a casual
day out, she dreaded to think how bad the mess would be on a permanent basis.
Bedding over-turned and sprawled in an almost modern-artistic fashion, the her back-which she'd
brought through the gate sure carried a lot of contents, which not to her surprise remained in
unorganised piles on the floor.
She was starting to under stand what Janet had told her in her highly detailed 'A Dummie's
manual on coping and looking after teenagers' discussion.
{"It's not going to be that Hard Janet. It's not like she's a baby. And besides, it's only for
a few days." She tried to say between sips of her coffee.
"Oh, That's what *you* think? Remember what a cutie Cassie was?"
"God, I remember." She felt a twang of Love and warmth in remembering the first time she'd met
Cassie.
"Well, there wonderful until they get to the 'Little Monsters' stage,"
She laughed at her friend's Over-expressive comment.
"Oh you can laugh now. but when they reach their teens, they get SO much worse. Boyfriends."
"I'll handle it. Well If I don't drown in a sea pre-adolescent hormones!"}
Sighing to herself, she picked up a small coat by the sleeve to find a piece of screwed up paper
roll from beneath the unusual fabric.
Picking up the piece of paper, she began to unravel it, revealing carelessly handled writing:
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Monday, 18:23:30hrs.
Only way back, and don't run...
What the hell?
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
=========================
The finding of solutions.
=========================
13:15:26hrs
Four men sat around a large table.
"I'm gonna have to start without her Colonel, it's been 10 minutes already."
For the last seven and a half minutes, Jack had screwed up a piece of yellow notepaper.
Then unrolled neatly and precisely on the table.
But settled by screwing it back up again.
Where the hell as she? Carter was *never* late.
She couldn't bare to be.
Something's soooo wrong.
"There's something wrong, General."
"O'Neill is indeed correct General, Major Carter would have alerted us of such a matter if she
were to be deliberately delayed."
"I'm aware of that Teal'c, but I have several other meetings after this."
"Has anyone tried her Cell phone?" Jonas interjected from his quiet corner of the briefing room
table.
"Sorry I'm late General." Each of their heads shot towards her presence at the door.
"Carter. What's wrong with phone? We were starting to get worried here."
She barely glanced towards him in the process of sitting down, nor acknowledged him even.
The Tenseness and stress lines indented in her forehead reflected back at his frown.
She hadn't even looked at him.
"I apologize sir." Came a tightly respective response.
It was if the pain, the acrid tensions between them and all the emotions had become encased in
some temporal deflective loop.
Loops he DIDN'T like.
"Sir," She turned to the General. "I found something. Something that I'm sure I wasn't meant to
find," She took in a cold breath. Even though it had nothing to do with the temperature in the
room, in the back of her mind, *it* feared the worst was coming. She revealed the piece of paper
and placed it in the middle of the table.
"Major? Care to explain?" Jack's bitter comment only fuelled her awkwardness towards him.
She chose to ignore him in the most polite and subordinate way in which a 2IC could be towards
the man and CO she'd slept with.
"Sir, this piece of paper gives us details of the next flair, which is scheduled to happen at
13:15 hours. Today."
"Well that's a result Major."
"Accept sir, Amy, I'm mean Amerdian doesn't know that found it in her coat pocket. She also
denied all knowledge of being able to get through back home through the gate when I asked her
minutes before finding this."
"I see Major." Sighing, he carefully placed his hands on the desk in front of him.
"Unfortunately had this option not arisen, I was going to negotiate accommodation for Ameridian.
But as you all know, in light of this new information and during our experience of messages from
the future and time travel, I half no alternative but to send her back to the time that she came from."
"I understand, Sir." And she did.
But it failed at making the situation any better for her.
And *She* was the one having to deal.
All the cards...
====================================================
When I cry, nothing changes, it just heightens the pain, produces a problem with a reason,
but that never solves the problem. I try to talk to people, yet my awkward stubbornness gets
in the way, and prevents a solution....-My thoughts, seem pretty relevant now, 20.08/02.
====================================================
Here it is, she thought.
The end. The milestone.
I'm never going to see her again, and I'm the one having to do this.
The Colonel's stayed about as far away from 'us' as can.
Hard *for* Him?
More like hard for us...
Turning the handle of the door between them, she braced herself,
saying to herself that it was for the best. She was doing it for 'her'.
*Her* daughter.
knock
"Come in."
"Hi, How was your day?"
"Great. Cassie's a blast to hang out with." She looked up at her from her bed as she picked
anonymous objects out of her bag, placing them in front of her.
"I'm glad." She continued to push the pain and guilt from surfacing in her voice. "Listen, we
have to talk."
"About what?" Amy returned her gaze, not at all fazed or hesitant at Carter's expression.
"I was tidying up in here, and *this* fell out of your coat pocket. Why did you lie to me about
not knowing how to get home."
The Face staring at same with a smile on her face almost moments ago, now fell of with out even
a thought. "What? I..."
She stood up from the other side of the bed, tears immediately dilating her bloodshot eyes.
"Why did you lie Amy? Why?" Sam tried to be the parent, to mediate in the situation. Meet her in the middle. But for once, her emotions would let her.
Eyes wide and screaming.
"I,"
"What?!" Her one came, agitated and angry all at once.
The frustration of the whole Situation had finally gotten to her.
"I, I." Looking though crystalloid eyes, she shrugged. "I wanted to meet *my* parents. I wanted
to experience what it would be like, just for a day. To be with my *real* family, not my..."
"What?"
"I live with Cassie, and David. In the future." She turned her from Sam, her gaze faltering
towards her feet.
"As in Cassandra?" She couldn't help but look shocked.
She must owe her like years worth of baby-sitting fees.....
"I told you she was nice. When you died, she said that she' always look after me. she helped me
get through the Stargate."
"Then you were meant to stay here?"
"No," Came her quiet reply, as she wiped her tears on her sleeve.
"Everyone was so nice when I arrived," She replied, watery mouthed and stonily pale.
"It made me feel like home, and then I didn't want to leave."
Sighing, she walked towards the crying young girl, slowly sliding her arms around her.
"And we'll always be your home, sweety. But you have to go back."
"I know."
She truly whished that she did. For her sake.
"We better go. We haven't got much time."
=================================
Time is precious.
We use it to tell the people in our
lives how much we love them, and
wouldn't trade them for the world.
=================================
Four minutes to go.
The timer counted down.
Sg-1, Hammond and Amerdian waited in the Gate room anxiously for the Sf's in the
Control room.
Waiting for the god ahead.
An everlasting absolution.
That *could* pass them by without knowing.
So they waited.
"I'm gonna miss you Teal'c." Amy stood in front of the tall man who drew her into a hug.
"I will miss you 'Amerdian'."
Next in the line came Jonas, who had gone for the hands off approach, judging by the fact that
the Colonel was carefully watching him out of the corner of his eye.
"Take care Amy, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"You two Jonas." She smiled at him, before coming to stand in front of him.
"Hey kiddo."
"So, what do I call you?"
"Well scene as you're going. Uh, 'Dad'?"
"Sure Dad."
He had to smile at that. Even though they hadn't been exactly close over the last two days,
The bond they'd discovered would always remain.
He knew that much, if nothing else.
And pulled her into hug as a result.
"Hey Dad! quit messin' up my hair!"
"Uh! Don't over use it,"
She smiled back at him, before turning finally to Sam.
"Hey." Came the whisper.
"Hey." She whispered in return, smiling. Immediately her eyes welled, and she pulled her
into a hug.
"I don't know why I crying,"
"Gonna miss me?"
"Uh-huh," She managed though the well tears streaming down her cheeks. "You are Beautiful.
Don't
let anyone tell you otherwise. You hear me?"
Those words, only made her hold on tighter. Never wanting to let go, and wanting to stay like
this forever. Letting this moment repeat forever, and revel in it. Forever...
"Thank you. for all you've done."
"You're welcome."
"Would you promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Be happy?"
"Always." Se knew what the girl meant.
That much, She *could* promise.
Just in time, Sergeant Walter Davis called for the ten second count down over the microphone.
This was it.
"9, 8,"
Turning to her one last time, Sam had almost forgotten the most important thing.
"Remember, that I love you. I always have," She briefly cupped her face before leading her
towards the gate.
"4, 3, 2,"
"Go."
And the smile was the last she saw.
"You think she'll be okay?" Asked Jonas.
"I do believe that she resembles both of her parents. She will be fine."
"Yea, O'Neill kids, they're all fighters." The Colonel interjected matter-of-factly.
============================================
Physical and spiritual cries are no different from one another; both vividly expressing the
outline or boundary of pain, anxiety, hurt or, inadequacy, reaching into the heart of everyone
around them.-thoughts, 20/08/02
============================================
Two weeks later.
All things had pretty much gotten back to normal.
Missions were being loaded in by the dozen,
And Sam was back to her normal heavy worked load. Which she loved.
And the Colonel and her hadn't talked in over two weeks.
Everything was 'normal'.
"Janet, am I done yet? I have a neutron analysis to get done by five." She called out
impatiently from behind the curtain.
She'd been here over half an hour for a check-up following their last mission, complaining of
severe indigestion and heartburn, supposedly from eating something 'blue' off world.
"That's the last time eat something blue, without the word Jell-o plastered on it."
Aware that Janet, albeit no one was listening, she stuck her head round the corner.
"Sam, could you come here for a second." The Doc called down the hall.
Turning the corner into Janet's office she quietly closed the door. "What is it?"
"Um Sam, how are you feeling?" She asked very calmly, and professionally, motioning her to
sit down.
"I'm okay. I haven't really been sleeping lately. And I have his dislike lately, towards turkey.
I'm not *sure* if it had anything to do with this program Jonas made me watch about them,
but-what?" The change in the doc's expression, which grew continuously more tense and worried,
alerted Sam, turning her on edge."
"Um, you're pregnant, Sam."
"What?" She laughed the comment off, not only was it ludicrous, completely in accurate and
impossible, was it was also.
"There's no error Sam. You're pregnant.
The pebble hit the water like an avalanche, and caused splash even more colossal.
"I'm?"
"Pregnant."
The statement took her breath away all at once. Causing her to stand.
"I'm,-"
"Get Doc," At that moment, Jack marched into the doorway. "Are you done with Carter or is she-"
Into Sam. "Pregnant." Blues could do nothing, but stare.
Brown eyes grew even wider still.
Neither talked.
They knew all the answers.
=============================================================
I wondered to myself why I didn't finish this, as some of you may well comment on...
FATE, is nothing more than the exquisite power of predetermined events, unalterably from
eternity.
But no 'thing' or such like can prove that the path cannot not be indirectly woven, into the
same outcome.
Besides, I 'never' changed the future...
========================
The End The End The End
========================
Athena