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1900 hours Cheyenne Mountain Complex
"Carter! Hey, Carter!"
Sam stopped ten feet short of the final checkpoint leading out of Cheyenne Mountain, and turned back to see her CO, Jack O'Neill, jogging towards her. She tried not to focus on how damn good he looked in his black leather jacket and faded jeans.
"Did you need something, sir?"
"Nah," he said, slowing his jog when he reached her. "Just thought I'd... you know... walk you out... or something."
Sam smiled. "Thank you, sir."
They both signed out with the airman posted at the entrance and stepped out into the cool evening air. With autumn's onset, darkness fell earlier and earlier, making Sam long for days of sunshine. Sometimes, she felt like she went to work in the middle of the night and went home in the middle of the night. Either that, or she had moved to Anchorage and was trapped in six months of darkness.
She hitched her duffle bag up on her shoulder and fished in her pocket for her car keys.
"Big bag. Going somewhere?"
"Just a weekend trip to Denver. I didn't want to leave everything in my trunk all day," she answered, her thoughts straying to the reason for the trip. And how her plans were different than she originally anticipated.
"Anything fun?"
Jack slipped his hand beneath the strap of the duffle and lifted it off her shoulder, transferring it to his own. Sam was grateful for the relief. The large bruise on her shoulder blade, a result of a hard fall on P37-222, had throbbed beneath the weight. They walked side-by-side down the rows of assorted cars, trucks and SUV's to the far end of the lot.
"No. Well – yes, I suppose. It could be."
Jack's eyebrows arched, silently asking the question: care to explain? Sam chuckled softly at her own indecisiveness. "I'm going to a wedding. A good friend of mine from MIT is getting married."
"Oh. That's... nice," he said, his tone making it clear he didn't know if it was or not.
They reached her car, and she unlocked the trunk. Jack set the duffle inside beside the black garment bag she had carefully laid out flat that morning. He rested his arm over his head on the open trunk lid. The stance pulled his jacket away from his side, showing off his tone abdomen beneath his tee shirt and the way the frayed waistband of his jeans fit him just right. Sam forced herself to look away, silently reminding herself that such thoughts were dangerous.
Wrong.
Against regulations.
Just... wrong.
"Oh, it is nice. I mean, nice for Erin. I just—" He watched her expectantly. Sam sighed. "When I RSVP'd, I told her I'd be bringing a guest."
"Ooohh," he said. "Paul? No... Pat... Wait... Pete?"
Sam's cheeks flushed hot, choosing to ignore Jack's sarcastic 'forgetting' of Pete's name. She hadn't said anything to Jack since that one day in the elevator when he called her on her humming... and the crazy days following. He didn't know that a month after Osiris was captured and Sarah was freed, Sam told Pete they had no future. Whether she could do anything about it, or not – admit it, or not – she loved Jack and it just wasn't fair to Pete to try and deny it.
And how does one bring up to the man she loves that she's no longer dating another man? It wasn't exactly an everyday conversation.
"No Pete?"
She realized she hadn't answered, and drew in a slow breath before looking up into Jack's face. "No Pete. Not now. Not in awhile."
Sam saw the shift in his expression, the slight parting of his lips, and wondered the true meaning of it. Was it relief? Was he glad? Or did it just make things complicated all over again? Jack pushed down on the trunk lid, closing it with a loud thunk. He kept his hand on the back of her car, leaning into it.
"So, now you don't have a date," he stated.
"Right. And I'll have to give some excuse—"
"I'll be at your place in forty-five minutes." He cut her words short.
"W-what?"
"Better yet, just follow me home. And we'll go from there."
"Sir?"
Jack grinned, slow and sexy and tempting. "Can't have you go without a date."
1900 hours Cheyenne Mountain Complex
"Carter! Hey, Carter!"
Sam stopped ten feet short of the final checkpoint leading out of Cheyenne Mountain, and turned back to see her CO, Jack O'Neill, jogging towards her. She tried not to focus on how damn good he looked in his black leather jacket and faded jeans.
"Did you need something, sir?"
"Nah," he said, slowing his jog when he reached her. "Just thought I'd... you know... walk you out... or something."
Sam smiled. "Thank you, sir."
They both signed out with the airman posted at the entrance and stepped out into the cool evening air. With autumn's onset, darkness fell earlier and earlier, making Sam long for days of sunshine. Sometimes, she felt like she went to work in the middle of the night and went home in the middle of the night. Either that, or she had moved to Anchorage and was trapped in six months of darkness.
She hitched her duffle bag up on her shoulder and fished in her pocket for her car keys.
"Big bag. Going somewhere?"
"Just a weekend trip to Denver. I didn't want to leave everything in my trunk all day," she answered, her thoughts straying to the reason for the trip. And how her plans were different than she originally anticipated.
"Anything fun?"
Jack slipped his hand beneath the strap of the duffle and lifted it off her shoulder, transferring it to his own. Sam was grateful for the relief. The large bruise on her shoulder blade, a result of a hard fall on P37-222, had throbbed beneath the weight. They walked side-by-side down the rows of assorted cars, trucks and SUV's to the far end of the lot.
"No. Well – yes, I suppose. It could be."
Jack's eyebrows arched, silently asking the question: care to explain? Sam chuckled softly at her own indecisiveness. "I'm going to a wedding. A good friend of mine from MIT is getting married."
"Oh. That's... nice," he said, his tone making it clear he didn't know if it was or not.
They reached her car, and she unlocked the trunk. Jack set the duffle inside beside the black garment bag she had carefully laid out flat that morning. He rested his arm over his head on the open trunk lid. The stance pulled his jacket away from his side, showing off his tone abdomen beneath his tee shirt and the way the frayed waistband of his jeans fit him just right. Sam forced herself to look away, silently reminding herself that such thoughts were dangerous.
Wrong.
Against regulations.
Just... wrong.
"Oh, it is nice. I mean, nice for Erin. I just—" He watched her expectantly. Sam sighed. "When I RSVP'd, I told her I'd be bringing a guest."
"Ooohh," he said. "Paul? No... Pat... Wait... Pete?"
Sam's cheeks flushed hot, choosing to ignore Jack's sarcastic 'forgetting' of Pete's name. She hadn't said anything to Jack since that one day in the elevator when he called her on her humming... and the crazy days following. He didn't know that a month after Osiris was captured and Sarah was freed, Sam told Pete they had no future. Whether she could do anything about it, or not – admit it, or not – she loved Jack and it just wasn't fair to Pete to try and deny it.
And how does one bring up to the man she loves that she's no longer dating another man? It wasn't exactly an everyday conversation.
"No Pete?"
She realized she hadn't answered, and drew in a slow breath before looking up into Jack's face. "No Pete. Not now. Not in awhile."
Sam saw the shift in his expression, the slight parting of his lips, and wondered the true meaning of it. Was it relief? Was he glad? Or did it just make things complicated all over again? Jack pushed down on the trunk lid, closing it with a loud thunk. He kept his hand on the back of her car, leaning into it.
"So, now you don't have a date," he stated.
"Right. And I'll have to give some excuse—"
"I'll be at your place in forty-five minutes." He cut her words short.
"W-what?"
"Better yet, just follow me home. And we'll go from there."
"Sir?"
Jack grinned, slow and sexy and tempting. "Can't have you go without a date."