And for the rest of the walk, he regaled her with stories of great moments from his teenage hockey games in Minnesota. She listened carefully, but as she'd predicted, the most that she could add was the occasional 'oh' or 'mmhmm'... and she thoroughly enjoyed herself.

- - -

- - -

Ch 29: DRIVING FORCES

- - -

As early evening approached, Jack watched his companion.
Still with her head in that machine.

Every now and then she mumbled something.
Every then and now she popped out and added something to the pile of pieces arrayed beside the DHD.

"Sam?"

"Mmmm?"

"Time to call it a night," he announced.

"Allright."

Now that was too easy and he knew what it actually meant. Because both she and Daniel had done it to him countless times over the years. She was intending to finish 'at a good stopping place.' But then she'd just think of something else... and follow that train of thought... which would lead to other possibilities.

"Don't 'allright' me... I know what that means – even if you don't... so I will drag you out of there if I have to," he threatened with a smile she couldn't see.

"Okay," still obviously distracted by the mechanical puzzle.

"You leave me no choice...," and he started tugging on her legs.

"Jack!" came sharply and he paused, not wanting to cause her to get cut or electrocuted.

"You can come out on your own... or...," and he let it hang.

"Rrrrhhrhr...!" a sound sort of like a rumble came from her.

And he could swear that it sounded like-, "Sam, did you just growl at me?" he asked incredulously while yet highly amused.

"Rrrrrmh!" more forceful, but clipped short as she backed out of the machine.

"You did! You growled at me!" he accused with a growing smile.

She just stared at him for a moment before begrudging a small smile of her own, "Just a bit frustrated, I guess," she admitted as she stood up and brushed her pants off. "I... it's such a mess in there," and she gestured towards the DHD, "but I keep hoping that the next thing I look at will... give us... something...," and her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

"Maybe tomorrow you'll find something we can use," he suggested quietly.

"Maybe," she returned with a small smile, but her eyes said otherwise.

- - - - - - - -

Watching the weather apprehensively the next morning, they headed to the 'Gate for a second day of work on the DHD. The cloud cover was now increasing daily and the daytime temperatures were cooling significantly.

While Sam struggled with the remnants of the alien technology, Jack worked on a small shelter to protect the dialing device from the weather. Now that the machine was damaged, portions of its internal apparatus were exposed to wind, dust, rain and small animals. Consequently, Jack's small shelter would hopefully shield the DHD from the elements and prevent further damage.

- - - - - -

"Time for lunch!" he announced cheerfully.

No response. Sighing, he leaned down and tugged on her foot as he had yesterday.

"What?" slightly muffled.

"Lunch!" he repeated patiently.

She was silent for a moment, so he just tapped on her foot to remind her that he was waiting. "What time is it?" her voice floated out.

"Lunchtime," he returned unhelpfully.

Silence again for a moment, and then she shimmied out to greet him. "Sorry...," she apologized for making him wait.

"It's OK. Come on, let's go," and he stood up, bouncing on his toes.

"Go where?"

"For a walk."

"I thought you said it was lunchtime?" and as she stood up slowly, she stretched and worked out a few of the kinks that had set in after hours on the ground.

"It is," and he just gave her a small mysterious smile.

"Back at camp?" she asked while looking around for any clues as to what he was up to.

"Nope. A picnic," he unveiled his idea with that same small smile.

"Ah, a picnic," and she gave him a return smile. "Sounds like a plan."

"I thought so," and he looked smug and she shook her head with amusement.

"Does this plan have details?" she inquired.

"Well, it's fairly loosely organized into Hike Out, Eat Lunch and Hike Back."

"Simple but effective."

"The best kinds of plans always are."

"Is there a Plan B?"

"If necessary."

"Do I get to know what it is?"

"It's on a need-to-know basis."

"And I don't need to know?"

"Actually, since I came up with Plan A, I figured that Plan B was your responsibility."

"Ah, kinda nice to know that ahead of time, so that I can actually have a Plan B... planned."

"Sorry, didn't come up with the Plan A until a half-hour or so."

"Can I change the subject?" she asked hopefully.

"If you insist, but I was just getting started," he mock-complained.

"That's what I was afraid of," she retorted as they walked along the same route that they had the previous day.

"Not enjoying the witty repartee?" he widened his eyes in mock horror.

"Just ready for a change," and then she quickly continued, "Like what we were talking about yesterday."

"Hockey?" and he waggled his eyebrows appreciatively.

"I was thinking more along the lines of why you chose the Air Force for a career," she returned conversationally.

"Hmmm... I think that you still have to tell me something first," he countered as they walked along between the trees.

"Not much left to tell, Jack," she shrugged. "Like I said yesterday, you know all of the major highlights."

"Then tell me some minor highlights," he pursued.

"Minor highlights? Isn't that almost an oxymoron?" she prevaricated.

"Don't change the subject – which is you, by the way," he looked at her knowingly and she sighed in resignation.

Silence passed between them.

"I'm waiting."

"Thinking," she returned.

"Come on, it can't be that hard. First crush, first boyfriend, first time you blew the roof off of the garage with some science experiment...," he suggested playfully.

"How did you know that I blew the roof off the garage more than once?" she asked with surprise.

"You didn't!" he returned with surprise of his own.

"No, I didn't."

"What?"

She just stared at him with a smug smile.

"It's funnier when I do that sort of thing you know," he chided.

"That's just because I'm still learning," she warned him with the same smug smile.

"So, did you blow the roof off the garage... once?" he asked, almost hopefully and she rolled her eyes.

"No," she sighed good-naturedly. "Although by the time I was nine I was taking apart almost anything mechanical or electronic. Drove my parents nuts." And for the rest of their half-hour walk, she regaled him with stories of her youth before she learned to curb her curiosity enough to remember to ask permission before disassembling family appliances and equipment.

- - - - - -

Packing up from their lunch stop, Jack assessed the sky, "Looks like that rain could come anytime."

She joined his perusal of the strengthening breeze and the increasing cloud cover, "It's a good thing that we'll be able to keep the DHD covered."

Taking one last look around to make sure that they hadn't left anything behind, they turned their attention to the walk back to the 'Gate.

"So, Jack?"

"Mmmm?"

"Any chance of my learning how and why you joined the Air Force?"

"Persistent aren't you?"

"Yes, it helps me problem-solve," she replied with a shrug. "But if you'd rather talk about something else, it's ok with me."

He glanced over at her before turning his eyes back to the ground ahead of them. "No, it's ok. I just haven't had a lot of folks around in the past 10 years or so who were interested in casual conversation about things like why I joined the Air Force or why I did anything so long ago."

"If it's too personal or private-," she started to qualify,

But he interrupted with, "I joined the Air Force to fly planes."

She raised her eyebrows at the brevity and he grinned.

"My uncle had a single-prop fixed-wing that he taught me to fly when I was just fourteen. Illegal, yes, as I was too young and didn't have a license, but he owned a large ranch in the outbacks of Minnesota and the only restriction was that I had to stay over his land. Well, that and no night flying and no flying when the vis was less than 50 miles or the ceiling was less than 10,000 feet," he elaborated.

"Basically clear skies on sunny days," Sam interpreted.

"Yeah, he may have been willing to let me fly his old plane, but he wasn't a total fool!" With his eyes now on the past, he continued, "I loved flying. It was freedom with an incredible adrenaline rush at the same time!"

She matched his smile, "Flying still holds a unique magic for me that even the Stargate hasn't matched. I can see and understand the laws of physics that govern the flight of an aircraft... but it still seems like flying should somehow be violating those very laws...," and he could hear the wonder in her voice.

"When did you first get to fly a plane?"

"I was sixteen. Lessons at a local air field. It was something that I could share with my Dad during the years after Mom died," she returned wistfully. "We didn't talk a lot... or share our feelings much... but flying was something that Dad and I could just go and do... we didn't have to talk. We could just fly around and...," she paused. "It was just special," she finished.

"Special. That it was," he echoed her words.

"So... the Air Force?" she prompted.

"Right. Well, the prop plane was cool... but then I wanted to fly jets. Faster, higher... and just faster! The Air Force seemed like the way to go, so I joined ROTC in high school and then went to the Academy right after graduation," he summarized economically. "And after flight school, all I wanted to do was join the guys breaking the records. Faster, higher, faster," he repeated.

"Ah, the life of the test pilot," she interpreted astutely.

"The life of the young and reckless," he corrected as he thought back to the brash young man that he'd been. Glancing over at her, he continued, "So did I answer your questions about how and why Jack O'Neill joined the Air Force?"

"Yes, thanks," she returned softly.

"Are you sure?" he asked with a mock suspicion which earned him a quizzical expression from her. "Because I could make up something more exciting... something like a misspent youth that forced me to go into the service to derail a life otherwise destined for anti-establishment types of behavior..."

"Well, I can't say that would have surprised me if something like that had been true," she replied in kind to his playful tone. "So what did you get to test fly?"

And he spent the rest of their walk back to the 'Gate sharing stories of his early flying days. Days and memories that he hadn't thought about in over a decade. With her background as a fellow Air Force pilot, she understood and empathized with aspects and issues that no one else in his family could even relate to. Even his dear old, now-departed, uncle.

- - - - -

"Your turn."

"My turn to what?"

"Your turn to tell me something about you," he replied as they sat around the campfire after dinner. The complete cloud cover was preventing any stargazing or star-charting. "You know... that first crush, first real boyfriend," he repeated his suggestions from earlier in the day.

A pensive look settled over her face as she struggled to figure out something that she was willing to share without too much embarrassment. The first crush and first boyfriend were quickly dismissed from her choices.

Sensing her dilemma, he tried a few suggestions along a different track, "Or something like how you got into motorcycles," and he knew he'd hit on something when her face lit up with a grin.

"Motorcycles were... just... fun," she tried to explain. "I had a friend, James, whose family owned a couple of bikes and he taught me how to ride when I was 15. Dad was furious," and she was smiling ruefully at the memories. "But I think it made it easier for him to let me take flying lessons at 16. As a pilot himself, he saw planes as a lot safer than motorcycles. He seemed to figure that if I was concentrating on flying then I wouldn't have much time to spend on motorcycles."

"Did it work?" Jack asked.

"Somewhat," she replied with a small smile. "But there was still plenty of time to go out with James for quick spins on the bikes. Just didn't tell Dad," she admitted with a wag of the eyebrows.

"So you got into motorcycles because they were fun?" he summarized.

"Real fun," she corrected with a grin.

"I stand corrected. You got into motorcycles because they were real fun," he restated.

"Yup," she replied. "Sorry the story wasn't more exciting," she echoed his words from this afternoon. "I suppose you were thinking it was something like a tattooed, much older boyfriend who tried to sway me to his angry, anti-establishment lifestyle to the horror of my father?" she asked and again matched his playful tenor.

"I just can't picture you as a tattooed biker-chick, Sam," he sent back.

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"Why not?!" he echoed.

"Yeah, why couldn't I have been a rebellious teenager with a biker boyfriend?"

"Because that's just not you. You are just too... polite... to have been that kind of rebellious teenager. That sort of behavior is much more believable for someone like me," he replied. "Tell me I'm wrong," he dared her and she just narrowed her eyes at him a bit before conceding his point.

"Just riding motorcycles, learning to fly and studying seemed like enough to do. Mark rebelled enough for the both of us anyway," she commented with a faraway look in her eyes.

"So where did the urge to be an astronaut come from?" he asked curiously.

"Don't all kids want to be an astronaut?" she questioned with another small smile.

"I didn't," he sent back.

"Why not?"

"Why not?" he repeated in surprise.

"Yeah, most kids seem to think that becoming an astronaut is the coolest goal, so why didn't you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I wasn't interested in science-,"

"Nah!" she interjected gleefully.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "I just wanted to go-," "Fast!" she chimed in with him and he just nodded at her with a rueful grin. "Can I continue?" he pretended to be a little put-out by her comments, but she could still see his grin.

She nodded, but didn't wipe the grin off of her own face.

"I wanted to go fast," and he glared at her to stop any comments and she affected a look of innocence, "and I wanted to fly aerial dogfights. Long flights through empty space as an astronaut? Didn't seem exciting enough, sorry," he admitted and then tried to look a bit apologetic at dissing her heart's ambition.

"Guess the astronaut-types aren't quite the same type of adrenaline junkies as the Top-Gun-Test-Pilot types," she offered teasingly.

"Well now, let's see... You ride motorcycles, fly jets and X302s, not to mention scoot across the galaxy through inter-dimensional wormholes..., oh, and don't let me forget that little Non-Parrot-Race junket around the galaxy with Warren... flying into a sun amongst other things... Sounds like an adrenaline junkie to me!" he retorted.

"It was the Loop of Kon Garat with Warrick," she corrected automatically with another small grin.

"Parrot-Garat... Warrick-Warren... potayto-potahto...," he sing-songed. "You can't avoid my point – you're an adrenaline junkie yourself, admit it!"

She widened her eyes a bit and shrugged, "An astrophysicist's gotta have a little fun."

He snorted in response to that.

"Especially a theoretical astrophysicist," and she smiled into the campfire.

"You always say that you have 'fun' with your doohickeys and computer work and research," he accused.

"They are fun, Jack," she smiled softly, "but sometimes, I just... need to feel... real... to just feel...," pausing she glanced up at him, "and it often seems to translate into... a need for speed," she admitted self-deprecatingly.

"You don't have to apologize to me...- remember I was a crazy test pilot," he reminded her of his own risky youth.

"Right," she agreed with a smile at their shared lust for riding the edge.

"And the whole astronaut-as-a career-thingy?" he returned to his earlier question.

She studied the flames for a bit while considering her answer. "I'm not sure if I can put it into words...," she began, "I remember being in the library in grammar school-,"

"You went to the library in grammar school? Willingly?!" and he played up an astonished tone.

"Yes Jack, they don't have minimum height requirement for entrance to the library," she returned with an amused smile.

"So what does the library have to do with your wanting to become an astronaut?"

"I was getting there...?" she queried his intentions to let her continue.

"Oh then, please continue," he replied innocently.

"So...I was in the library... and I saw that some of the books had little rocket stickers on the spines... turns out those were the science fiction books for kids. Once I discovered those, I read every one that the library had. In my imagination I traveled to all sorts of alien worlds with all types of alien life and civilizations," and she paused and looked over at him. "Did you ever read much science fiction?"

"Not much... or any," he admitted. "Hockey...," and that was explanation enough.

"Right," and she gave him a small smile before turning her gaze back to the flames. "Well, I was also fascinated with how things worked-," "No!" he interjected and she ignored him, "I had been taking everything apart... eventually Mom and Dad enrolled me in some Engineering courses... I think they just wanted to save the household appliances," she confessed. "Taking those courses, along with some Physics and Calculus courses... and I don't know... all that Sci Fi space travel... just seemed possible... like I just might be able to go to some of those places... out there...," and she looked up at the cloud-covered sky. "As I got older, I reset my sights on NASA and was just hoping for a trip in the shuttle, or a walk on the Moon... or if I got really lucky... a trip to Mars...," and she turned her gaze back down to the fire.

He didn't interrupt, he just watched and listened.

"And now I've walked on dozens and dozens of alien planets... and several moons... although I never did get to walk on the Moon or Mars!" but then she hastened to add, "Not that I'm complaining mind you, I know how lucky I've been."

"Hence the occasional spin around a planet or two in the X-302," he supplied warmly.

"Hence the occasional spin," she admitted softly with that small, shy smile again.

A few moments of silence passed as the two watched the dancing flames. The only significant sounds coming from the occasional snapping and cracking of the burning wood.

"Well, I think I'm going to turn in," and she stood up before he could take the conversation any further for the evening.

"Sounds like a good idea," he agreed, although he was reluctant to let go of their conversation. Realizing, however, that there were many days ahead for future chats and discussions, he moved to start putting out the fire while she began policing the camp area for any equipment or food stores that hadn't been stowed away for the night yet.

- - -

TBC

- - -

Author's Notes:

As always, a Special Thanks to SG-1 Yahoo Transcripts
wwwdotmoon-catchindotnet/transcripts.htm (just replace the dots with periods)

Sam's 'need for speed' is from the SciFi Channel's Official Stargate SG-1 Episode summary for Episode 708 at wwwdotscifidotcom/stargate/episodes/season7/0708/ - just replace the dots with periods.

The comments about Sam's 9-year-old 'year of technological disassemblage' refer to my fanfic 'Nine'.

The comments about 'the spin around a planet or two in the X-302' refer to my fanfic 'Come Fly With Me'.

- - -