Jack could have sworn she was in here. He was certain he'd heard her swear as he walked up the corridor. But the lab was empty now.
He turned to leave, then heard a muffled sob. He turned back. Just behind the table, he could see a shadow. Was that Carter? And was she actually crying? He wasn't at his best dealing with sobbing captains, and he turned to leave.
Then he hesitated. He remembered that moment of silent communication in the gateroom. She wasn't just any captain. She was part of his team now. That second had proved it, that she was his responsibility now. He couldn't just walk away and leave her crying alone. Sighing and oddly nervous, he walked round the table.
"Hello Sir." Carter said, looking up at him with a tear-stained face.
"Why are you sitting down there?" he asked.
"I was hiding." She replied, honestly. He shrugged, and sat down beside her.
"Who are you hiding from?" he asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be sitting behind her lab table. He noticed the cut on her hand, and took the plaster from her.
"You." She said, watching her superior officer place the plaster over her cut. He was surprisingly gentle.
"Can't say I blame you, I'd hide from myself too."
She laughed, well, grinned, despite herself, and he smiled a little. This may not be as difficult as he thought.
"How did you cut yourself?" he asked.
"The screwdriver slipped." She explained.
"And, that's why you're..you know...crying." He stammered.
"No! No, that's not it. It's Jonas." She said, half-indignant.
"Jonas." He said, and his heart constricted. He wasn't surprised, or hurt but..he didn't know. He didn't know what he felt.
"I'm not crying for the man you killed." She said. "I'm crying for the man he was once."
"Oh." He said. He didn't know what else to say. He really wasn't very good at this, he had no idea how to comfort her, whether he should hold her, or what to do.
"That man who proclaimed himself God, that wasn't Jonas." She said. She didn't know why she was telling him all this. It would have been different if it had been Daniel, or Doctor Frasier, but she hadn't meant to tell him this. She didn't want him to see her like this, weak and vulnerable. But she didn't want to stop.
"So what was he like, when you fell in love with him?" Jack asked, and for a moment, he hated saying that.
"He was charming." She said, smiling softly, as she remembered. "Athletic, funny, good-looking, confident. And popular. Women were lining up around the block to go out with him."
"I don't suppose there were any shortage of men chasing you either." He said, then winced. He probably wasn't supposed to say that sort of thing to his second in command. But she only smiled.
"If there were I didn't notice. This was back during the war, and I was so wrapped up in my work that I never noticed anyone or anything. But the war...."
Jack remembered the war. Things were different then. Emotions were heightened. Every moment of pleasure was grabbed, in case you were dead tomorrow. Suddenly, everything was more intense, colours brighter, women more beautiful, and over all the hedonistic, breathless, desperate pleasure seeking hung the pall of death. She wouldn't have been the first person to fall in love during war, and regret it in peace.
"I remember." He said softly. She looked at him, and saw that he understood. He knew.
"I did love him." She insisted softly. "I couldn't believe he wanted me. So many women wanted him. But he chose me. He made me special."
"What changed?"
"The black ops missions. I don't know what went on during those missions..."
Jack knew. Jack didn't tell her. Somehow he didn't want her to know the things he and Jonas had had to do those during those days, the lengths they'd gone to, the laws they'd broken, the darkness they'd embraced to win the day. His commanding officer had once said they'd used the devil's methods for the sake of the angels.
"He came back changed." She said, slowly, remembering, recalling those days. "Just little things. He had to be in control. Everything had to be done his way. And I let him. I knew he'd been through hell. I wanted to save him."
"But you couldn't."
"No. I broke it off. And then today..."
"You're wrong you know." Jack said. Sam turned to face him surprised. She was so close, her face so near, he could see right into the intense blue of her eyes.
"He didn't make you special." He told her, and her eyes widened a little. "You did that all by yourself." He told her. He hadn't meant to say that, but he was lost in her eyes. It felt like the floor was falling away. There, in her face, it suddenly felt like there was a whole new future in front of him, one he'd felt he'd lost a long time ago, new joy, new pain, new life. He could feel something new stir inside him, a long-dead emotion, and he suddenly felt dizzy, seeing whole new possibilities there, in the deep sea-blue of her eyes. Something fundamental had just changed for him, but not a word had been spoken.
He swallowed, and looked away.
"It's corny." He said, and she realised he was talking about what he said, and not that shock she'd just felt travel through her when she'd looked into those intense, dark, so dark eyes. Suddenly, whatever she'd felt for Jonas seemed insipid and pallid.
"But it's true." He continued.
"Yes Sir." She said, standing up. "And thanks for letting me talk."
"Anytime. Well, maybe next time in a nice warm comfortable bar, rather than the floor of your lab. I have a bad back you know , Carter." She laughed, and he turned to go, but he turned in the doorway to watch her, just for a second, as she settled back down to work. And he knew now, this wasn't going to be the first time he watched her when she didn't know. Wouldn't be the first time she smiled at him that way, and his heart turned over. He would never be able to watch her walk into danger again without a slight hint of panic, never be able to watch another man care for her without a pang. Silently, his life had changed.
In that one moment of silent communication, he handed his soul over to her.
He turned to leave, then heard a muffled sob. He turned back. Just behind the table, he could see a shadow. Was that Carter? And was she actually crying? He wasn't at his best dealing with sobbing captains, and he turned to leave.
Then he hesitated. He remembered that moment of silent communication in the gateroom. She wasn't just any captain. She was part of his team now. That second had proved it, that she was his responsibility now. He couldn't just walk away and leave her crying alone. Sighing and oddly nervous, he walked round the table.
"Hello Sir." Carter said, looking up at him with a tear-stained face.
"Why are you sitting down there?" he asked.
"I was hiding." She replied, honestly. He shrugged, and sat down beside her.
"Who are you hiding from?" he asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be sitting behind her lab table. He noticed the cut on her hand, and took the plaster from her.
"You." She said, watching her superior officer place the plaster over her cut. He was surprisingly gentle.
"Can't say I blame you, I'd hide from myself too."
She laughed, well, grinned, despite herself, and he smiled a little. This may not be as difficult as he thought.
"How did you cut yourself?" he asked.
"The screwdriver slipped." She explained.
"And, that's why you're..you know...crying." He stammered.
"No! No, that's not it. It's Jonas." She said, half-indignant.
"Jonas." He said, and his heart constricted. He wasn't surprised, or hurt but..he didn't know. He didn't know what he felt.
"I'm not crying for the man you killed." She said. "I'm crying for the man he was once."
"Oh." He said. He didn't know what else to say. He really wasn't very good at this, he had no idea how to comfort her, whether he should hold her, or what to do.
"That man who proclaimed himself God, that wasn't Jonas." She said. She didn't know why she was telling him all this. It would have been different if it had been Daniel, or Doctor Frasier, but she hadn't meant to tell him this. She didn't want him to see her like this, weak and vulnerable. But she didn't want to stop.
"So what was he like, when you fell in love with him?" Jack asked, and for a moment, he hated saying that.
"He was charming." She said, smiling softly, as she remembered. "Athletic, funny, good-looking, confident. And popular. Women were lining up around the block to go out with him."
"I don't suppose there were any shortage of men chasing you either." He said, then winced. He probably wasn't supposed to say that sort of thing to his second in command. But she only smiled.
"If there were I didn't notice. This was back during the war, and I was so wrapped up in my work that I never noticed anyone or anything. But the war...."
Jack remembered the war. Things were different then. Emotions were heightened. Every moment of pleasure was grabbed, in case you were dead tomorrow. Suddenly, everything was more intense, colours brighter, women more beautiful, and over all the hedonistic, breathless, desperate pleasure seeking hung the pall of death. She wouldn't have been the first person to fall in love during war, and regret it in peace.
"I remember." He said softly. She looked at him, and saw that he understood. He knew.
"I did love him." She insisted softly. "I couldn't believe he wanted me. So many women wanted him. But he chose me. He made me special."
"What changed?"
"The black ops missions. I don't know what went on during those missions..."
Jack knew. Jack didn't tell her. Somehow he didn't want her to know the things he and Jonas had had to do those during those days, the lengths they'd gone to, the laws they'd broken, the darkness they'd embraced to win the day. His commanding officer had once said they'd used the devil's methods for the sake of the angels.
"He came back changed." She said, slowly, remembering, recalling those days. "Just little things. He had to be in control. Everything had to be done his way. And I let him. I knew he'd been through hell. I wanted to save him."
"But you couldn't."
"No. I broke it off. And then today..."
"You're wrong you know." Jack said. Sam turned to face him surprised. She was so close, her face so near, he could see right into the intense blue of her eyes.
"He didn't make you special." He told her, and her eyes widened a little. "You did that all by yourself." He told her. He hadn't meant to say that, but he was lost in her eyes. It felt like the floor was falling away. There, in her face, it suddenly felt like there was a whole new future in front of him, one he'd felt he'd lost a long time ago, new joy, new pain, new life. He could feel something new stir inside him, a long-dead emotion, and he suddenly felt dizzy, seeing whole new possibilities there, in the deep sea-blue of her eyes. Something fundamental had just changed for him, but not a word had been spoken.
He swallowed, and looked away.
"It's corny." He said, and she realised he was talking about what he said, and not that shock she'd just felt travel through her when she'd looked into those intense, dark, so dark eyes. Suddenly, whatever she'd felt for Jonas seemed insipid and pallid.
"But it's true." He continued.
"Yes Sir." She said, standing up. "And thanks for letting me talk."
"Anytime. Well, maybe next time in a nice warm comfortable bar, rather than the floor of your lab. I have a bad back you know , Carter." She laughed, and he turned to go, but he turned in the doorway to watch her, just for a second, as she settled back down to work. And he knew now, this wasn't going to be the first time he watched her when she didn't know. Wouldn't be the first time she smiled at him that way, and his heart turned over. He would never be able to watch her walk into danger again without a slight hint of panic, never be able to watch another man care for her without a pang. Silently, his life had changed.
In that one moment of silent communication, he handed his soul over to her.