"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.
- - -
- - -
Ch 30: A COUGH
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Sam got in three full days of work on the DHD before it started raining.
And then it rained... and rained and rained.
For days.
They spent days trapped in the tent and under their shelter.
The temperature stayed just above freezing during the day and dipped just below freezing at night. Mostly... it rained... but occasionally it sleeted... with one short hailstorm for variety.
They spent the hours talking and playing with a deck of cards found in the supplies... and trying to stay warm and dry.
Jack woke up slowly.
Blinking a few times to clear his bleary eyes.
The soft gray light told him that it was probably just after dawn.
He was lying on his side and facing the wall of the tent. Deciding to roll onto his back so that he could take a quick look at his companion, he started to move- only to stop immediately as he felt something against his back. As he continued to wake up, he smiled as he realized that she was snugged up against him. The nights had been getting progressively colder, just a degree or so over other night, but it was now dropping below freezing around 4am each morning. Any snow or ice that fell was always quickly melted by the subsequent rain as the morning progressed.
They were each in their own sleeping bags and they had the extra sleeping bags pulled over the top for an added layer. He was reasonably snug and warm in his bag. Toasty even, and he usually didn't need the second sleeping bag.
She hadn't complained about the cold nights since they'd returned to their basecamp, but her presence against his back told him that she was cold enough that it had probably woken her up... and rather than waking him, she'd just scrunched over and up against him. And it had apparently worked, because the pattern of her breaths told him that she was sound asleep.
Deciding not to move for awhile, he just let his thoughts drift back over the past few weeks. The camp they'd built, the native foods they were learning, the exploratory treks, the lake... his lake... her current work with the DHD... stargazing... and their talks...
Of all the things that they'd done over the past month, their talks were the most astonishing for him. They were talking casually and easily with each other. They'd each been able to hang onto a little humor, which showed itself in some teasing and light banter. But they were also... just talking... about stuff... inconsequential stuff... and personal stuff... sharing their histories...
And then it hit him.
They were becoming friends.
Not just comrades.
Not the type of 'I'd-take-a-bullet-for-you' loyalty that comes from fellow soldiers.
Not just comrades who shared a beer and told tall tales with a group of other soldiers.
No, they were now becoming social friends.
They weren't just sharing or comparing war stories.
They were sharing personal stories... and simply enjoying each other's company.
He'd discovered that she had a wicked sense of humor... that was completely hidden under the role of Sam Carter, Air Force Officer. He had a feeling that she'd shared her 'other sides' with Janet and Cassie... and the occasional date... and, of course, Pete.
Shaking himself from that train of thought, he pulled himself back to the idea of he and Sam as friends. He knew that she'd been astonished to discover that he could and would listen to her technobabble. And even enjoy some of it.
Friends. That word encompassed so much and yet, at the same time, didn't say enough. They'd each sacrifice their life for the other. He knew that without a doubt. They'd each hurt horribly if the other were injured or killed. He knew that they had something beyond the deep comradeship of fellow soldiers. Unfortunately, what they had was unquantifiable... and exploration of possibilities... always led to the problem of military regs and their life in the same line of command.
But now they were friends.
Not lovers... no they weren't warming each other each night with sex.
They were friends.
He thought about it carefully and realized that he didn't have many friends that weren't fellow soldiers or comrades in arms. And he knew that she was in much the same position. They'd each dated outside the military over the years, but after the trials of the years passed... the two of them were still... single...unmarried.
What was Sam Carter to him?
A brilliant mind.
An excellent officer.
A soldier with heart.
A comrade that he'd march into a hailstorm of bullets for.
Who was Sam Carter to him?
Someone he wanted to wrap his arms around and protect.
Someone he loved.
A friend.
- - - - - - - -
She moved a little against him and he waited.
"Good morning," he spoke quietly.
"Morning," her response was thick with sleep.
Turning over so he could see her, "It's getting cold enough every night, I think we need to figure out some sleeping arrangements that allow us to keep a little warmer," he suggested.
She blushed, knowing full well that he was sufficiently warm at night. "You'll be on the losing side of that," she warned.
"We'll just have to make sure that you get something hot into you before bed. Get you warm and keep you that way," he returned.
She glanced away, still embarrassed, "Still, I'm going to be sucking the heat away from you."
"I think I can handle hot-water-bottle duties," he sent back.
Sighing, "I really have been trying to eat more."
"I know, we both have," he commiserated. They'd both been eating more than they usually did and yet they were only just maintaining their weight. Neither of them had much body fat left for insulation.
"Look, we don't have any electric blankets, so you're just going to have to get by with me," he joked and received a small smile for a reply.
"Well, I guess it could be worse," she admitted.
He just raised his eyes questioningly. "How so?"
"Well, if I were stranded here with Doctor Westing," she offered with a look of amusement at the image of being stranded here with the emaciated-looking historian.
"You'd both freeze to death," Jack returned with finality.
She looked like she was going to object, but then she grimaced and conceded, "You're probably right."
"So... tonight, we rearrange things?" he asked and she looked back at him, considering the options, and then nodded with the return of that touch of embarrassment. "Good! That's settled. Now, how about we scare up some breakfast?"
- - - - - - - -
Sam watched him carefully over the fire. He'd seemed fine this morning, but as the day had evolved he'd grown progressively crankier and shorter with his responses. There had been little if any real dialogue all day. Conversation had been limited to essential comments and requests.
She hadn't figured out what was wrong yet. She wondered if it had something to do with their short conversation this morning in the tent. Was he regretting his offer to sleep together for the warmth? Because she would deal with the cold on her own if she had to.
Cough.
And her head shot up and she pinned him with her eyes.
Cough.
He tried to stifle it, but there was little other noise in or around their camp.
Cough, cough. And now he looked pissed. And he wouldn't look at her.
"Jack?"
"What?" he managed to grate out.
Cough. Damn!
She got up and went over to the supplies. Returning, she placed the back of her hand on his forehead and he jerked away with a growl of complaint, "Sorry," she apologized and then held a thermometer from the medkit in front of him. "This is more accurate anyway," and she slipped it out of its case and offered it to him.
He just glared at her, "I'm fine!"
"Then this won't be a big deal, will it?" she challenged.
Cough. Cough. He tried to swallow them, but he couldn't. Sighing in defeat, he reluctantly took the thermometer and placed it in his mouth – and then gave her a dirty look for good measure.
She winced apologetically and then sat down beside him. She had a dozen questions she wanted to ask, but she knew better than to give him a reason to spit the thermometer out.
So they both watched the fire in silence until the little instrument beeped. She reached for it but he turned away, pulled it out and looked at the results without letting her see the display. "Normal, I told you I was fine," he stated.
"Let me see it, Jack," she spoke quietly but insistently.
He stared at the fire, "I said I was fine."
"If you wait any longer, I'll just make you retake the reading," she threatened.
"Make me? How?" he sent back crankily.
"Jack, it's only the two of us here," she reminded him. "You need to let me help. I promise I won't over-coddle you, but I need to know what's going on."
He glared at her for another few moments before his expression finally softened, "What if I want to be coddled?" he asked impudently.
As it was the closest he'd gotten to humor since before breakfast, she gave him a small smile and pointed at the thermometer.
101.5 degrees! Argh!
Cough, cough, cough. He was still trying to swallow and suppress them, but he couldn't stop them.
"Allright, into bed with you," she directed as she stood up.
"What happened to no molly-coddling?" he asked reprovingly.
"This isn't molly-coddling, it's prudent. You're sick and on an alien world away from any medical help or professionals. You need to stay warm, dry and well-hydrated," she stated firmly.
"Sounds suspiciously like molly-coddling if you ask me," he challenged.
"Jack, Get your butt up off the ground and into that tent and into bed. Now!" and her tone left no room for argument.
"OK, so that's not what I'd call molly-coddling," he agreed with a small look of amusement as he stood up stiffly.
"Good. Now- Move It Airman," and she set up a pot to boil some water for some hot tea.
"Yes ma'am," he mocked while obediently making his way to the tent where she could here him muttering something about Power Complexes.
- - -
- - -
TBC
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