Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters do not belong to me. They are property of the writers, producers, SciFi, etc. The only thing I own is this story and any original plot/dialogue contained here in.
Summary/Spoilers: Post Lost City, part 2. Kinda AU. Potential spoilers for everything up through and including "Lost City", and possible borrowing of the limited spoilers I have read for Season 8.
Author's Notes: Props to Macisgate for betaing another chapter. Without her, ya'll would think I was illiterate, I swear. =p Ok, second order of business. I'm surprised you guys haven't figured out what's going on with Sam in the prologue. It's written kinda funny, but the basic idea itself is fairly unoriginal. EVERYONE has written Sam doing that at some point or another in Sam/Jack fics. No not that! The other thing! LOL I'm glad everyone likes my humor--believe me there's more of it to come. I generally put the lines I find the most amusing in the summary every time I post a new chapter. Ok, enough babbling--on with the show!
Oh god. The voice behind her. Warm. Affectionate. Strong. Tremulous. Good-natured. Jovial. Sarcastic. Gruff. Gentle.
Oh god. She would not turn around. She just held her breath and stared at the Jell-O. Multi-pack. Six flavors. With a trembling hand, she reached out and picked it up. She ran her quivering fingers over the cool, smooth plastic.
"I couldn't remember your favorite, so I," she heard him shrug, "brought all of them."
She chuckled. Slightly. She was still in shock.
"I mean, I would have brought you a cake, but the 7-11 only had those mini Hostess ones."
Silence. Not even a ticking clock. All the clocks in his house were digital.
"Carter?" The voice was more cautious now, less sarcastic and self-assured.
At the sound of her name, at his name for her, she thought her knees would give out. If this had been a movie, she would have fainted.
If this was a movie…
It seemed to be.
The man she loved but could not have was standing behind her, virtually back from the dead. Wait, not dead. Not dead! Asleep.
Jesus Christ on a crouton. She was in a very special episode of The Twilight Zone written by Romeo and Juliet. She was dreaming. That had to be it. She was dreaming, still sound asleep in Jack's bed, and in a minute she would wake up, or the Jell-O would start singing and dancing, or Teal'c would come prancing in dressed as a banana singing "I've Got a Loverly Bunch of Coconuts."
She waited. But the Jell-O did neither sing nor dance, and Teal'c remained on a planet far, far away, his banana costume and questionable singing ability (and penchant for strange Earth songs) hidden away for another day.
"Look at me," the voice commanded softly but unyielding.
Releasing the breath she had been holding, she closed her eyes and turned to face the voice.
"Open your eyes," the voice pleaded quietly. "Sam, please."
Slowly, lashes fluttering, heart racing, breath coming at a controlled rate of slowness, her eyes opened. Blue eyes met brown. His eyes looked moist, as though he were holding back tears, but she could have been imagining things. She still wasn't completely convinced she wasn't imagining the site before her.
Her eyes raked down his body. No jacket. Regulation drab khaki/olive-toned T-shirt and olive pants. Black belt and boots. His hands kept clenching nervously into fists then releasing. She followed his arms to his shoulders, taking in the curve and shape of his collarbone, admiring his neck as it rose out from the collar of his shirt.
Silently, almost reverently, she took in his face. Chin. Lips. Nose. Cheeks. Graying hair. Searching, hopeful, worried, tired, mischievous eyes.
"Hi," he said again, the corners of his mouth turning upwards slightly as though he couldn't help but appreciate that she was drinking him in.
"Hi," she replied, her voice shaky. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly a few times, and she flushed, embarrassed at finding herself at a loss for words. "I--I don't....how....what..."
"Sam," he said, gently interrupting her. "C'mere." He opened his arms to her, welcoming her, inviting her to find the comfort and solace she'd been seeking for six months, eight years, longer. His invitation broke something in her, and her shocked haze melted apparently as easily as he had. His gaze held a million explanations and as many promises as there were stars, and for once, she believed he would keep them. He smiled reassuringly, and it was all she needed. She crossed the distance between them in a few steps, and when she arrived in the safe haven of his arms, she felt as though it had taken her years to get there instead of mere seconds.
She was in his arms then, wrapped in them, protected. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. It was the same as she'd been wrapping around herself every night. It was then that she realized two things--that he had been preserved in the Ancients' ice block as though no time had passed, and that he had come directly from the base. The stubble on his face scratched her skin, but she welcomed the sensation.
He clutched her tightly to him, with more force than he ever had held her before. One of his hands was fisted in her hair, his fingers splaying against her scalp. He played with the hair at her nape and she shivered uncontrollably.
She then realized that she was weeping. And so was he. Soft tears dampened her shoulder as he buried his face in her hair. She felt his lips lightly graze her temple and then the sensitive spot behind her ear before he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She could feel his breath, warm and moist, against her skin. His chest rose and fell against her as he breathed.
They stood there for a long time, holding each other, softly crying. She did not sob uncontrollably like a hysterical teenager but rather basked in being surrounded by him, feeling his heart beat, and letting her emotions wash over her. Her grief, which had been diminishing little by little, disappeared like the side of a cliff falling into the sea. It was replaced by shock and joy, happiness and trepidation, relief and contentment.
Reluctantly, she pulled away from him but only enough to look at him again. His cheeks were damp and tear stained, his eyes glistening. He took her face in his hands and gently wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. Unable to resist the urge, she slightly nuzzled his palm, resting her cheek in his hand. He smiled, and so did she.
"You're here," she murmured, unable to say anything else.
"So are you. And Cassie, I'm told," he replied, his thumb stroking that spot behind her ear. Damn. How had he known it was there? That it would both soothe and thrill her so?
She frowned. "How…? I still don't....I mean, you're here. How?" She straightened up, her analytical mind overpowering everything else. "We tried for months, tried everything. Nothing ever worked. We tried naquadria, the sarcophagus, we contacted Thor, we tried blasting you out with a zat and Teal'c's staff. I don't understand. Nothing worked." She was pacing now, and he let her, knowing she had to get some of it out of her system.
She stopped dead in her tracks. The intense grief in her gaze both saddened and frightened him. "We had a memorial service for you. I mean, Daniel and I spent months, but then....there was just nothing…" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "We as good as buried you. We mourned you."
"I know," he said softly, unsure of what else to say.
"So then how are you here?" She asked, her tone so simple and direct and without hope that he realized she still might think she was dreaming.
He shrugged. "I don't know, really. I just woke up about three days ago, cold as hell."
Her eyes bulged, "You just…woke up?? That's it?"
He nodded, "As far as Daniel figures, the chamber kept me in stasis until I was completely healed, then it released me."
"Healed?" She asked wondrously.
Jack smiled, "No more crazy-talking Jack." He frowned. "You know what I mean." He was rewarded with her smile. "I still have all that Ancient crap in my head, but it's not killing me anymore."
Her eyes widened. "Sir, that's amazing! The possibilities now of what that information could do for us are endless. Why, we could--"
"Carter!" He raised his voice, holing up a hand to silence her. He realized he'd used his field name for her when she'd called him "sir." "Sit." She sat, inwardly pleased at hearing his command tone again. "No shop talk, ok? I've been back for like, a minute, and you're already going all gung-ho Science Gal." He paused, smiling, "And what's with the 'sir'? I resigned remember? Plus, I hear congratulations are in order, Colonel Carter."
She blushed, "Thank you, sir."
"Jack," he corrected. "Call me Jack." He took a step towards her. "Like you did at the outpost right before…"
"Before we put you in the Dormata," she finished quietly. "I wish there had been another way.."
"There wasn't," he said decisively. "What's happened has happened. Let's leave it at that. We're here now." He crouched in front of her, his hands taking hers, bringing them to rest on her knees. "I love what you've done with the place." He eyed her attire. "Nice look by the way. I didn't know you shopped at O'Neill's House of Plaid."
She looked down at what she was wearing, her eyes bulging in shock and embarrassment. She stammered for an explanation. "Well, I was---you see we haven't…oh hell," she finished, seeing an amused grin spread across his face.
"Don't sweat it," he said. "Looks better on you anyway." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, deepening her flush.
She took a hand from his and laid it alongside his face. "So what happens now?"
He shook his head slightly, not wanting to disturb her touch. "I don't know. I've resigned, but Hammond doesn't have it in writing, so he offered me my job back. Except now we've already got a Colonel, so he said he'd make me a General. He's retiring finally. I guess he wants to spend more time with his grand kids or something. "
Sam smiled, "Oh that's wonderful! Congratulations, Jack!" She hugged him impulsively then withdrew stiffly, realizing that that meant he was once again her CO.
"Don't," he whispered, gripping her hands. "Please. I don't think I could take it."
"But, Jack, sir, now you're--"
"No," he cut her off. "I swear to God, Sam, if the word 'regulations' comes out of your mouth I'm going to....tie you to a chair and make you watch nothing but The Simpsons for the next two weeks!"
Smiling slightly, she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. "Then I guess my question remains: What happens now? You're running the SGC, I'm in command of SG-1…that doesn't exactly abide by the--"
"Sam," he warned.
"Rules," she finished, a twinkle in her eye.
"Fuck the rules," he replied. "We've saved the planet, hell, the whole goddamned universe enough times, I figure they owe us one or a hundred."
"I wonder if the President will see it that way," she said, a trace of sadness in her voice.
"Sam," Jack said, taking her face in his hands again. "We've been skirting this for eight years. I just spent six months in a block of ice getting my system reworked and my brain rewired. And we saved the universe. Again. Some more. He owes me one, and he knows it." He pressed his lips to hers chastely before finishing. "It'll be ok."
If promises were stars…
But this time she knew they were, and he would keep them. He got off his knees and moved to sit beside her on the couch, pulling her into his arms.
She rested her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. "Cassie will be over the moon to see you. She took what happened to you really hard."
"Poor kid," he said. "She's had to deal with a lot, hasn't she?"
Sam nodded. "Do you want to go see her now? I'm sure she wouldn't mind the wake up call."
Jack shook his head. "Let her sleep."
At the moment, Sam yawned abruptly. "Right on cue," she thought ruefully.
"Speaking of which…"
"I'm fine." She was exhausted, but at this point she didn't care. She felt as thought she'd just taken a huge turning point in her life. She didn't know what it was or where it was taking her, but she decided to go with the flow. For once.
"No you're not. It's 3 o'clock in the morning. Let's get you back in bed." He slapped his knees, having made his decision, and rose, pulling her to her feet.
"I've been sleeping in your room," she said softly, trepidatiously, as though uncertain of what their next move would be. There was so much history between them, so much trust, and yet so much uncertainty laid before them.
"I know," he replied and lead her out of the living room, turning off the lights as they went. They padded silently down the short hall as not to wake Cassie. When they reached his door, Sam stopped and squeezed his hand. He turned to look at her and saw her eyes full of so many questions he didn't know if he could answer. He knew he hadn't really answered "What happens now?" It was because he didn't know. All he knew was that they had been given another chance, possibly their last chance, and he wasn't going to let the galaxy or the frickin' regulations screw it up.
"Come to bed, Sam," he said softly, pulling her into his room and shutting the door quietly behind them.
Yeah yeah yeah I know I'm evil. So, did you buy my explanation of Jack waking up? If not, fear not, I'll get into further detail next chapter. Review!! It's my heroin!