She actually couldn't believe how it had all turned out. She'd actually ended up on the one program that could take her further into space than any space shuttle. And to have ended up working with Grounder 1... well, as a scientist, she didn't believe in fate or destiny... but she could appreciate the... symmetries in her life.
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Ch 36: LINKS
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She awoke suddenly.
She was reasonably warm and the tent was pitch-black.
He moved and she knew what had woken her up.
He was having nightmares again.
"Mbtrrrfvvv...fvgggkth...," unintelligible mutterings and mumblings as he lived through whatever unpleasantness now occupied his subconscious.
0417 local time, her watch informed her as she sheltered the watch's backlight so that it would not disturb him... anymore than he already was, she thought sadly.
Placing her hand on his shoulder, she spoke soothingly, "Jack, it's allright." Trying to keep her voice soft and gentle.
She couldn't know if he heard her or not, but his movements quieted and he relaxed a little. "It's allright," she repeated softly.
His felt warm... his fever was returning again.
Her worries from the previous evening returned in the dark, cold predawn hours.
Worries that he would not be able to overcome this illness.
Worries that she would lose him.
Sliding her hand over onto his chest, she felt for that reassuring thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat. Feeling those vibrations, she relaxed a little as she lay there alongside him in their cocoon of sleeping bags.
Prickles.
Itching.
Tingling.
She raised her head slowly and looked at her hand.
That same light green glow leaked out from between her palm and his chest.
She stared at it. Trying to figure it out.
And the glow faded.
Along with the prickles, itching and tingling.
She slowly picked up her hand.
Nothing. She couldn't see anything in the inky dark but a faint fading afterimage that moved with her eyes as she shifted their direction of focus.
She touched her other hand to her palm.
Nothing felt different.
She rubbed her two hands together gently.
Nothing felt out-of-the-ordinary.
She slowly lay her hand back on his chest.
Watching into the darkness.
Nothing.
Just... dark.
But something was different.
He was quiet. His breathing appeared to have evened out and he seemed to be sleeping much more peacefully.
Lying her head back down on his shoulder, she tried to determine if she was imagining things. She mentally reviewed what she remembered from the night before. And then compared that with what had just happened.
She tried to find similarities between what she'd seen and what they'd discovered over their many years of Stargate travel. The closest match that she could remember was when the Nox had healed Lya. Sifting through the memories and the alien technologies, her mind drifted and her thoughts grew fuzzy with sleep.
Thump, thump, thump... the vibrations from his heart beat softly into her palm.
And the prickling sensation returned... with the itching and tingling.
The soft green glow and funny sensations in her hand registered dimly on some less-than-awake level of her mind. Her half-open eyes slowly slid shut as she fell into a deep sleep.
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He woke in the soft predawn grey light. The tent walls came into focus. The warmth in the sleeping bags contrasted sharply with the bracing chill of the air on his unprotected face.
And the warmth of her snuggled up against his side.
He smiled contentedly.
And then raised his eyebrows...
...as he realized that he felt better... a lot better!
He could take deeper breaths...
He didn't feel feverish or chilled.
His smile grew a little wider.
He pulled in a long, slow breath, and reveled in how good he felt.
He lay quietly for another 10 minutes or so, enjoying the warmth, the soft early morning light... and her closeness.
But then, he started to get restless.
A need to get up and get moving.
Something he hadn't felt in days.
Making up his mind, he slipped out of the sleeping bags, making sure not to jostle Sam – or to let any cold air in under their covers. Snugging the sleeping bags around her gently, he quickly pulled on some warmer clothes and then quietly slipped out of the tent.
Busying himself around camp, he restarted the fire and heated some water for hot drinks while starting some breakfast. Once the drinks and breakfast were ready, he stuck his head back in the tent, only to see that she was not yet awake... and in fact, she hadn't moved an inch from where he'd left her.
Smiling to himself, he ate his portion of the breakfast while enjoying the brightening morning. Covering her portion so that it could be rewarmed later, he set to restocking their firewood, checking the camp alarm system and other such chores.
An hour or so later, he looked back at the still silent tent. Silently opening the tent zipper, he peeked inside again. To see that she was still in exactly the same position that she'd been in before. Concerned, he slipped inside and closed the tent door against the morning cold.
"Sam," he spoke softly.
Silence answered him.
"Sam?" he tried a little louder.
Silence.
Moving over next to her, he shook her shoulder gently, "Sam, wake up," and he couldn't keep a touch of worry from his voice.
She moaned softly.
He waited.
But she didn't wake up.
"Sam," and he shook her gently again.
Another airy groan, and then she shifted under his hand, "What?" It was barely above a whisper and her eyes were still closed.
He put his hand on her forehead, but she didn't feel like she had a fever. "Sam, wake up," he tried again.
"Why?" and that was more clear... and then her eyes opened sleepily and she looked up at him.
He sighed in relief and sat back. "You had me worried," he confessed.
She looked puzzled and tried to blink the sleep from her eyes. "What's wrong?"
He looked at her steadily, "Nothing... I just... you weren't up... and you weren't moving... and then you didn't wake up very easily... and... and I just got worried," and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Everything's OK?" she checked.
"Yeah, pretty much," he admitted.
"Good, 'm going back to sleep," and her eyes slid shut again to his surprise.
He stared at her for another moment, but then shook her gently again, "Sam, not just yet, OK?"
"Mmmm?" came the muzzy reply.
"Look, just don't go back to sleep yet. I want to take your temperature first," and he reached for the medkit.
She didn't reply or move as he readied the instrument.
"Sam, C'mon, Wake up," he cajoled and shook her lightly again.
"Whhaa-?" came the sleepy reply.
"Temperature," he kept it short as he slipped the thermometer into her mouth.
"Gughhkkk," came a muffled objection.
Grinning, he replied more clearly, "It will only take a few minutes... and don't make me remind you how many times you made me take my temp over the past few days."
She didn't reply. She just sighed and relaxed with her eyes closed.
A few minutes later, the thermometer beeped and he slipped it out of her mouth, pretty sure that she was asleep again.
99 degrees.
Slightly above normal.
Just slightly.
Normal was 98.6 degrees...
But that was just an average over 24 hours for a range of different people.
A person's early-morning, just-awaken-from-sleep body temp was often lower than 98.6 and could range from 96-97 degrees.
So... 99 degrees was probably a low-grade fever.
He watched her sleeping.
Her face relaxed.
Blonde hair spilled across her cheek.
Shaking himself into action, he pulled out some acetaminophen and some antibiotics. Locating her water bottle, he turned back to her sleeping form.
"One more time, Sam," and he spoke clearly and shook her gently.
...And was rewarded with another groan and she pulled away from him slightly, "Tired," she mumbled without opening her eyes.
He grinned, he couldn't help it. She was too cute. Forcing himself back to the task at hand however, he insisted, "Sam, just wake up for a few more minutes," and he pulled her up and into a reclining position in his lap. To his surprise, she didn't resist. "Here, take these," and he held the pills out.
She squinted at his hand, "What is it?"
"You've got a low-grade fever, it's just some acetaminophen and some antibiotics," he explained.
Taking a deep breath, she reluctantly pushed herself into a more vertical position and took the pills and the offered water bottle. Swallowing the pills, she lay back against him. "This is kinda nice," she muttered with half-open eyes.
"How do you feel?" he asked with concern.
"Tired," she answered thickly as she began to drop off again.
He sat there silently for a few minutes as she quickly fell back asleep. Brushing the hair from her face, he quietly watched her. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
Gently laying her down, he cocooned the sleeping bags around her and then quietly slipped out of the tent.
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Jack busied himself around camp with small tasks and chores for a few hours. Every half-hour or so, he stopped and looked in the tent to see if there were any signs of the fever progressing. Each time, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
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A rustling in the tent, followed by the characteristic sound of the tent's zipper pulled his attention from his whittling to their sleeping quarters. A few moments later, Sam emerged, squinting into the bright light of the late morning.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," he greeted her with a sardonic grin.
She looked at her watch as she sat down next to him, "1130!" she remarked in surprise.
He looked her over assessingly, "How do you feel?"
"Still tired," she admitted with a grimace.
Setting down the stake that he was sharpening, he retrieved the medkit from the tent, "Bet you can guess what's next," he sent as he unpacked the thermometer and then handed it to her.
Sighing, she slipped the thermometer under her tongue and used the waiting time to continue to wake up. When it beeped a few minutes later, he quickly snatched it from her mouth and she glared at him while waiting for him to read the results.
"98.4," he reported with raised eyebrows and a look of relief passed over her face. "Do you feel anything besides tired? Achey? Trouble breathing?" he pursued.
Shaking her head, "No. Just tired," she replied and then, "Maybe I just need another couple vacation days," she suggested with a small grin.
"Ahh! I'm converting you!" he crowed, "I knew you weren't a completely lost-cause-workaholic," he stated.
"You certainly seem to be feeling better," she observed.
"You noticed?" he went for innocent surprise.
"Oh, yeah," she replied with a tone of sufferance tempered with a quirky half-smile.
"Well, I do feel better. A lot better actually. Woke up and felt better than I have in days," he reported. "I think I kicked whatever that fever was from," he proclaimed.
"Good, you had me worried," she replied.
Locking eyes with her, he returned with, "Back at you," and she dropped her eyes to the ground. "Hungry?" he asked.
"Yeah, a bit," she admitted.
"Allright, you just sit back and relax, and I'll fix us some lunch," he ordered as he got up.
"Yes sir," she sent back with an amused tone.
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Later that afternoon, Jack looked up from securing his eighth fish of the day. Sam was propped against a tree trunk along the river bank. Asleep. After lunch, they'd declared the day as an 'official' day off and then played cards for an hour or so before heading down to the river for some fishing and relaxing.
He'd made her take her temperature again and it was a respectable 98.3 and she stated that she didn't feel feverish or like she had the flu.
He leaned back against his pack and watched her sleeping. In spite of all their time together over the past 4 weeks, he really hadn't had much time to openly watch her without her knowledge.
Raptor 2.
How had he not recognized her voice?
He thought he'd heard it so clearly in his dreams for years.
The voice of that angel in the sky that had come back for him.
Of course, he'd been feverish in that desert... Maybe the recent fever had helped him remember...? That and her words... her promise to kick his ass if he up and died on her.
Raptor 2 and Grounder 1.
Sam Carter and Jack O'Neill.
He watched her sleeping figure across from him.
The two of them were connected.
On a deep, fundamental level...
...that he couldn't define...
...he was only beginning to become aware of it.
Perhaps the Asgard or the Nox or the Ascended could explain it. Well, hopefully not the Ascended, because their explanation would be couched in so many riddles that he would just get frustrated.
"I didn't leave ... because I'd have rather died myself ... than lose Carter,"
"Why?"
"Because I care about her ... A lot more than I'm supposed to,"
The words echoed in his mind as he watched the afternoon shadows softly dapple her face.
Connected.
With certainty he knew that she was a part of him.
No matter how their lives developed, diverged or converged.
They were friends now.
Still comrades, but now they were friends too.
He enjoyed her company... and she appeared to enjoy his.
They talked about this and that... trivial things, important things...
They'd learned so much about each other.
About each other's childhoods and families.
About their hopes and dreams.
Some things silly, some things sad.
With only the two of them here, they sometimes got on each other's nerves. He'd get cranky and sarcastic... or she'd get short and snappy. They'd each generally give the other's mood a little space and time.
Of course, there was that day she'd taken to amused looks and the occasional sniggering. He'd been a bit cranky... ok, a lot cranky... and she'd somehow seen it as amusing. The more he tried to pick at things, the more amused she'd seemed to get. Which had only pulled his tail tighter and made him even crankier... then she'd then gone from chuckling to openly laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks while he'd glared at her.
"Sorry," she'd finally choked out. "No, you're not," he'd accused. More laughter and then finally, "No, I guess I'm not... you're just being... so... so...," and that had thankfully been swallowed by more strangled laughter.
So, they were now friends.
In addition to comrades.
Watching her sleep, his eyes traced the profile of her face.
She was beautiful.
Angelic when asleep.
And with an inner beauty that shone out of her when she was awake.
A part of him said that he was in love.
And that scared him.
Because Sam Carter had always been off-limits to him.
He was her CO.
Or had been.
What were they now?
How much time would have to pass on this planet before they would be able to consider the military, and its regs, a part of their past lives?
Would this be his third life?
He had his life before the SGC,
...and his life with the SGC,
...was this his life after the SGC?
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They took the next day off too. Sam's temperature held steady at just below 98.6 degrees, but she admitted to still feeling tired.
Jack was worried, and he kept a close eye on her. She didn't even open her laptop... and that added to his misgivings. Mostly, she sat quietly playing cards – either solitaire... or poker when he joined in. And she napped. In the morning. And again in the afternoon.
Jack wove more of their homemade rope and sharpened the ends of some more stakes for general purposes around camp... for reinforcement of their shelter, for tent stakes and tools around the fire, etc. He also caught another round of fish for dinner... and watched Sam take her afternoon nap by the river.
That evening, however, she gave him the first sign that she was feeling better. She proposed that she spend the next day working with the DHD again. That was a good sign. He knew that the world was getting back to normal when Sam Carter wanted to play with doohickeys. Even broken ones.
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TBC
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Author's Notes:
As always, a Special Thanks to SG-1 Yahoo Transcripts
wwwdotmoon-catchindotnet/transcripts.htm (just replace the dots with periods)
Episode 107, 'The Nox', transcript by Lauren Freeman
Episode 405 'Divide and Conquer', transcript by AQ
And, credit also goes to the Episode Guide & Synopses at 's Stargate SG-1 website
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