Title: 2:41 AM

Date Written: November 10, 2004

Category: General/Romance/ AU Jack/Sam

Spoilers: None

Setting: Think 'dark.' Really dark. This takes place in an AU. Pretend the Goa'uld were defeated before Daniel was killed but somehow Sam still met Pete. So this is about 5 years after 'the defeat of the goa'uld.'

POV: First person—Sam Carter

A/n: I was in a bad mood when I wrote this originally thus explaining why it's so...dark. But, yeah. My point is that this is just a one-shot thing, I guess. There might be more. We'll see. Okay, ENOUGH of my mindless babbling. Here it goes...

I sped down the freeway. Theresa was asleep. She reminded of me even as the small child slept in her car seat.

I glanced over at the clock on the radio of my blue SUV. He'd said that even the car matched my eyes. My eyes which were presently too clouded that I couldn't tell whether the clock read "2:41am" or "3:41am." I blinked a tear out and read the clock correctly. It was 2:41 in the morning. I glanced at the dashboard only to find I needed gas. At 2:14 am. My glance at the dashboard had also reminded me of the two rings on my left ring-finger— the ones that had symbolized my marriage vows. I blinked away a few fresh tears and wiped my eyes on my shirt sleeve. Funny—it smelled more like him than me. I wanted more than anything else in the world to rip it off and destroy it—take that horrible, traitorous smell out of my life forever.

Finally I spotted a rest-stop with a gas station. I pulled over and stepped out of the car. As I searched my pockets for my credit card, a piece of paper fell out and onto the pavement.

"Dear Sam,

I could have loved you forever... but something wasn't right. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me..."

I had read the note a million times and I still couldn't comprehend... I couldn't read any further. I tore the paper into 4 pieces in a rage. Shreds of hurt, anger, deception, and infidelity... I through them into the wind and watch as the invisible force flew my past away into the early morning.

I ripped my rings off my fingers angrily, and shivered, suddenly remembering how cold it was. I retrieved my credit card and dipped it into the gas machine.

Just then, another car pulled up to a pump adjacent mine. I was sure it was him. I willed the transaction to be completed as the driver of the car hit the brakes and turned off the engine. I heard the door of the car slam and then footsteps in my direction. I took a deep breath. I can manage this. Hell, I'm Samantha—

"Hey, excuse me? Do you, by any chance, know where Fernwood is?"

I exhaled in relief, not certain whether I was angry or upset with the stranger not being my... not being him. I turned around to face the man. He had messy unkempt hair, an aviation jacket, and a pair of glasses on. He wasn't in the light, though; I couldn't see him too well. "You're going in the wrong direction," I sniffled.

He stepped into the light and removed his glasses. "Aw crap," he said, but I'd lost his words by them. "So do I just get back on here and get off at the next exit?"

I just stared. Was I not in the light? I wiped my face on my sleeve, embarrassed by the tear-stains. I took a step forward, not noticing that my transaction had been completed and my credit card was sticking out of the machine.

The man cleared his throat, "Er... See: it's been so long since I've been around here and –oh..."

"Hi."

He walked cautiously and slowly over to me. I knew he wasn't going to recognize me. My hair was longer now. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. And it had been three years since I had seen him.

"Carter??"

I smiled, remembering his charming habit of calling me by my last name; I'd almost forgotten. Almost; I could never forget. I nodded.

"OhmyGod," he looked so shocked and confused. "What are you doing out at 3am?!"

I yawned in spite of myself and I put my hand over my mouth instinctively.

"Hey..." he said, softly grasping my left hand. "I thought...?"

He'd noticed the rings were gone.

"Me too," I said quietly, a tear streaming silently down my cheek.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he reprimanded gently. He took a few steps closer and wiped the tear from my face; his finger lingering just a few seconds longer than necessary.

I looked up and into his eyes. I felt our close proximity and immediately a pang of infidelity. No, not infidelity; He left me, I reminded myself. I chocked back a sob at the painful memory. With a lump in my throat I asked him why he was going to Fernwood.

"I'm getting a place there. "

"Oh, I thought you'd moved out to Minnesota...?"

"I did. The fish swam away."

I laughed lightly. He always made me laugh. I sighed, remembering the parts of my past that hadn't been carried away by the wind—the greatest parts; the ones with SG1. I was silent but my running nose wasn't, and my all too sensitive eyes were threatening to burst the dam and pour my problems right onto the shoulder of my former CO. Former. We defeated the goa'uld 5 years ago. He and I had both retired. Daniel became a famous archaeologist. Teal'c went back to live with his family. At first it was every holiday that we met for. Then just birthdays and Christmas. Then only Christmas. And that last Christmas Jack hadn't shown up; Daniel had some lecture thing in New York; it had been just Teal'c and me. Feeling another cool breeze, I was snapped back into reality.

"Nostalgia," I stated.

"Ah."

There was a beeping at my gas pump signaling the abandonment of my credit card. Jack had somehow managed to be nearer to the machine than I, so he walked over to it and took out the card. He studied a moment before he returned it to me. Curious, I glanced down at it. It read 'Samantha C. Shanahan.' I breathed in in a serious manner slipped the card into my pocket. I reached up to my hair and tied it back with a blue scrunchie from my wrist.

Jack who was presently standing at the window of my SUV suddenly noticed the sleeping form of Pete and my baby. He just sort of stared for a moment before saying, "Who's this adorable little one? Were you planning on introducing us??"

I smiled and slid open the door. I peered in at Theresa's sleeping form. Then gently, I released the fastens of the car-seat. I scooped her up in my arms and fixed her little coat. She had just turned 2. She latched on to me but remained, for the most part, asleep. "Sssh..." I calmed her instinctively.

"She's beautiful," he breathed.

I transferred the sleepy child into his arms and smiled; a parent beaming proudly upon my child.

Theresa wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head upon his shoulder.

I laughed, "Yeah, she's clingy."

"What's her name?" he inquired.

"Theresa." I watched in amazement as I was introduced to a side of the old Jack O'Neill who I had never known.

"Hey," he greeted my daughter, massaging her back gently. "Hey Theresa."

Theresa's head bobbed up sleepily, her thumb in her mouth. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was.

"Hi there," Jack said.

Theresa looked around, her eyes finally resting on him.

"I'm Jack," he continued, "I used to work with your mom."

She examined the man whose arms she was in, thumb still in her mouth.

"Theresa," I coaxed softly. She looked over to me. "Say 'hi'!"

She motioned her head to Jack and removed her thumb from her mouth, "Hi!"

He smiled, "Hey!" He straightened the small child's clothes.

"Night night." She said, replacing her thumb in her mouth.

If there was one thing that that child had a talent for, it was making people smile. My husband had just left me and here I was in a gas station at 3am in the middle of nowhere, grinning my ass off. Suddenly I realized how natural Jack looked with my daughter asleep in his arms. It made me question everything. Had I made the right choice? I chose Pete, and where did it get me but a gas station at 4am...in the middle of nowhere? And when I looked at this man, holding my daughter, I saw him holding my heart. Not only now, at my worst of times, but...always.

--the end--