Title: Sowing Threads
Author: Su Freund
Website: www ficwithfins com (insert . instead of spaces in the address)
Category: Angst, Romance, Episode Tag
Content Warnings: Use of some bad language. References to sex
Pairings: Jack Sam
Season: 8
Spoilers: Anything up to and including Threads
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After revealing her inner most secrets to him, Sam accompanies Jack to his cabin
Sequel/Series Info: None
Status: Compete
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Copyright © 2004 Su Freund
File Size: 120 KB
Archive: My site, Jackfic yes, SJD yes, Gateworld, FanFiction Net
Author's Note: I was inspired by the episode, and what shipper wouldn't be? Thanks to my Bonnie my wonderful beta reader for her helpful comments. As always they are insightful and stop me from embarrassing myself!
Sowing Threads
The light shone from his living room. Positive he hadn't left it on, Jack cautiously opened the front door, drawing his gun. Crap! What now? It seemed to be open house at his place lately. Maybe Daniel had been right about getting an alarm, although Jack didn't believe they made any difference and still favoured the dog option. If only he was ever home to look after it he'd get one like a shot. He loved dogs and they seemed to love him right back.
Ever a man of stealth, he silently crept towards the light, keeping himself hidden from view as much as possible in his open plan house, and leapt out, gun at the ready, surprised by what confronted him.
"Carter? What the hell are you doing here? I could have shot you."
"Hey! Home at last, huh, Jack?" She drawled, the emphasis on his name in what Jack thought sounded like a slightly sarcastic tone. Surprise mounting, he did a double take, cocking an eyebrow and staring at her in disbelief.
"Jack?" He questioned.
"Sorry, of course it has to be sir. Hi, Sir Jack!" Her speech was slurred and she looked dishevelled.
"Are you drunk Carter?"
"Dunno. Prolly."
Yet more surprise. Tonight sure was getting interesting. He'd never seen her drunk before. She was normally so in control. What was she doing drunk as a skunk in his living room? It was then that he noticed the bottle of Jack Daniels. It was half empty. Was that the bottle that he bought yesterday? He hadn't opened it, so that meant she had.
"Jeez, Carter, you are drunk. How did you get in? No, don't tell me, you picked the lock." He tried to look annoyed while quietly amused inside. This was a side of Carter he hadn't seen before.
She waved her lock picks at him with a smile.
"Wanna drink, Jack? Sit down and rest your weary cozars."
Jack glared at her momentarily. He had to try gaining some semblance of control over the situation.
"I think that's Sir to you Carter."
"Don't be such a spoil sport, Jack, not after I took the trouble to come round."
Every time she spoke his name, Jack felt like wincing at her tone, but he knew this was not his Carter. Some drunken stranger who looked like Sam had broken into his house and proceeded to consume half his supply of Jack Daniels.
"And exactly why did you come round, Carter? More to the point, when you found I wasn't in why didn't you just turn around and go away again?" The words were spoken in archetypal sarcastic O'Neill style.
"I might have had a couple before I arrived," she admitted, "and then I saw this unopened bottle sitting all alone and who could resist that temptation? Jack Daniels. Two of my favourite men in the universe. Couldn't go wrong."
"You were already drunk?"
Obviously something was wrong. What had happened to her tonight? It wasn't that long ago that Sam's father had died but he thought she had a handle on it. Sure, she was upset, but she wasn't going to get drunk because of it. Daniel was back in the land of the living and looking pretty good as he had witnessed only too clearly to his embarrassment, so it couldn't be that.
Pete! It had to be something to do with him. Jack wasn't sure he was up to talking with her about that after Kerry had forced him to confront his feelings but, above everything, she was his friend. If she needed him, she needed him. Simple – not! If only it was.
"What's the matter, Carter? What's happened?" The tone of his voice changed to one of deep concern and, even in her drunken state, Sam recognised it.
"So you do care after all." She declared. "Well if you aren't having one, I sure am."
She poured herself another Jack Daniels and Jack was sufficiently shaken from his still shocked state to move, grabbing both the glass and the bottle.
"Of course I care, Carter. We're friends, which means I can tell ya that I don't think you need any more of this. I'll make coffee. Strong coffee. Then you can tell me all about it. Okay?" She pouted but nodded in response, flopping back on the couch with a big sigh.
"Yes Sir, General O'Neill."
Jack tried to ignore her acerbic tone, rushing off to make the coffee, taking the bottle and glass with him and gulping down the amber liquid, suddenly feeling in need of a quick drink to fortify his courage. He was more than curious about the cause of her behaviour, which was so out of character.
It wouldn't have surprised him to find her asleep by the time he returned but, although her eyes were closed, as soon as she heard him approach she opened them. Those big baby blues stared up at him mockingly.
"Hey, General, you got my medicine. I'll swallow it all down like a good little girl." She slurred.
"Carter!" He put the coffee down and sat next to her on the couch. "For crying out loud!"
"The General doesn't like drunken Carter? What's up Jack; not perfect enough for ya? Ruining my image, am I?"
"Sam, stop it! Tell me what's up?"
"Can't!"
"What? Then why are you here?"
"Just…" He thought he saw tears forming in her eyes, but she took a deep breath and tried to hold back.
"It's okay, Sam, you don't have to tell me. You don't have to say anything." He said, his tone softening still further, and he put his arm around her, pulling her close. She nestled her head into his neck. "I'm here."
The sobbing started. She couldn't control it. Jack's reaction, his friendship and total acceptance, forced the tears from her eyes. She didn't deserve his unquestioning loyalty and friendship, his total trust in her. It was something she treasured above almost anything but, at the same time, it scared her. This, however, was one reason she was here. She needed him to hold her close and tell her everything was okay.
In his arms she felt safe, secure, and comforted. Jack was the only man except her father who had ever made her feel quite that way with just a hug. With Jack it was different. Her feelings for him were a far cry from those for her father.
"Sam, please don't. It'll be all right, whatever it is. I'll make it right."
Jack continued to reassure and console her, not knowing what to say or do and doing exactly what she needed without even knowing it. Her tears subsided but she continued to cling to him, and then her hand started to wander over his chest, provocatively.
"You are one sexy hunk, General O'Neill." She slurred and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away. If anything like that was going to happen between them it had to be for the right reasons, not because she was drunk. He couldn't bear that, nor could he take any advantage of it.
"Whatchya doing? Don't you want me Jack?" She cried. "Come on, where's that O'Neill daring and guts?" Her tone had reverted to mockery.
'It doesn't take guts to do it Sam,' he thought, 'it takes guts to stop myself from doing it.'
"Carter! You're gonna stop this right now and that's an order." He said aloud.
"Yes Sir!" she exclaimed in best military style and then started to giggle. "God, don't be such a stuffed shirt."
"Stuffed shirt? Me?"
"Yeah. We could have a great time if you let go of my wrist." Her words were garbled.
"Sam, don't do this." He said, thinking, 'This is too hard. It hurts, Sam, please stop.'
"You know something, Jack O'Neill, you are quite a man. I love you, I really do."
Jack's heart lurched but then he considered her inebriated condition and dismissed her words.
"Sure Sam." He humoured her.
"It's true! You know it is!"
"Sure. We'll talk about it tomorrow. Why don't I put you to bed now?"
"Your bed?"
"If you like."
"With you?"
"No."
"Then I won't let you put me to bed!"
"Jesus! I've never seen you like this before. Drink your coffee."
"I'd much rather go to bed with you. How about a kiss?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Ridiculous? What so ridiculous about it?"
"I don't even want to discuss this when you're drunk."
"You never want to discuss it. You never want to discuss anything!" She cried, and started to sob again, leaning into his chest.
Once more, he put an arm around her and squeezed with no idea what was wrong but wanting to make it right and for her to feel better. He contemplated how heart breaking it was to hold her in his arms but still keep so much distance between them, particularly after her behaviour only moments before, and the recent disconcerting train of events. It made him wretched. Nevertheless, he would do it because he would always be there if she needed him. He'd made that promise to himself many years before. He just wished…
Kerry was right; he shouldn't let rules stand in their way. Trouble was that rules weren't the only thing that stood in their way anymore – there was Pete.
Those same events had given Jack some hope, and he had even been wondering whether her engagement was really the obstacle he had imagined.
When Sam had turned up at his house a few days earlier it seemed she was going to admit to something he had no longer thought possible. She had mentioned doubts about the wedding and appeared to be about to open that room they'd kept everything in so long ago, but then Kerry had interrupted and effectively ended that conversation.
After that Sam's father died. In between, there had been that wonderful moment in the obs room when he believed they saw into each other's hearts, but then it seemed that there was never the opportunity to tackle those things that needed resolving between them.
Daniel had returned, followed by her father's funeral, with full military honors, and the memorial service for both Jacob and Selmak at the base, with both full Tok'ra and military honors. It was never the right time to try settling anything. Was this why Sam was here? Was this the chance he'd been waiting for? One thing Jack knew for sure; they couldn't do this while Sam was drunk. And then there was Pete…
When she sought Jack's permission for Pete to visit the base to meet Jacob, Jack was pretty upset, but totally failed to show it, just as he had tried to hide his disquiet over Sam's phone call in the briefing room and Jacob's remarks about flowers for the wedding. More recently he'd been pondering that a lot had happened since then; something had changed. He wasn't exactly sure what it was but he knew it was there, just within his reach, if only he could find a way to grasp it.
Sam hadn't told Jack she'd broken her engagement and he'd never mentioned his split with Kerry. It hadn't seemed appropriate after her father's death. Despite Kerry's words to him, which he had thought about a lot, he still didn't know what to do about the woman he cared about more than almost anything.
As he smoothed her hair with his fingers, the sobbing diminished and then stopped altogether; Sam was quite. It was a good few minutes before he realised she was asleep. Kissing her hair, he stroked her back affectionately, enjoying the feel of her lying in his embrace, and it wasn't long before he joined her in the land of dreams, and nightmares.
Sam awoke with a massive headache and parched mouth. She seemed to recall that, sometime during the night, she'd had an amazing dream; she was lying in Jack O'Neill's arms. The thought made her smile, but then she groaned at her thumping head and the realisation that she wasn't at home.
Reluctantly she opened her eyes. This was Jack O'Neill's living room, she was on Jack O'Neill's coach, and that was Jack O'Neill asleep in the chair opposite. And then she remembered. Aw, crap!
Wondering if she could sneak out, resign from the Air Force and move to Alaska without waking him, she tried to sit up and groaned again. She felt terrible. Not only that, but she woke the General. She saw his eyes open and look at her curiously. She looked away but then moved her eyes to meet his again, her face turning redder by the second.
After falling asleep with her in his arms, Jack had woken up at around 3 am. It felt good to hold her so close and he wondered what she had been thinking, what she was dreaming about. Gradually and reluctantly he had extricated himself from Sam's grasp and found a couple of blankets. He gently placed one over her for warmth, bending to kiss her cheek as he did so. She didn't stir, which he was grateful for because she needed to sleep it off. Everything could wait until the morning, but how much longer could it all wait?
Wanting to be on hand in case he was needed, he'd sat in a chair and pulled the other blanket over him, watching over her protectively until he could no longer keep his eyes open. Now she was awake and, because he was on a self-imposed internal alert status, her noise and movement woke him immediately.
"Morning Carter. How you feeling?" He asked jauntily, as if it was normal for her to wake up on his couch with a hangover having declared her love for him the previous night.
"Like a Jaffa is stomping around in my head." She was surprised when the words she was thinking actually turned into speech.
"Yeah, half a bottle of Jack Daniels tends to do that to a person. You look like shit."
"Thanks!" She exclaimed, but then shrugged, "although I have to admit I feel like it."
He got up and approached her, taking control.
"Come on, Carter, on your feet. You need a shower, I'll make coffee."
"Can't I just die right here?" She groaned.
"Too much mess in my living room." He replied, pulling her to her feet.
Noticing her wan smile in response to his riposte, he grinned to himself. He could still amuse her, which was a really good thing in his humble opinion. She stumbled into his arms and he steadied her, staring into her eyes for a moment. Coughing, she looked down at her feet, even more embarrassed than before and wondering what he was thinking. She couldn't bear to see scorn in his eyes so wouldn't look too closely just in case. He probably thought her a total fool after her antics the previous night, and maybe she was.
Virtually dragging her to his bedroom, he pulled a robe down from the back of the door.
"Get undressed and put that on while I go pee. Okay?"
Feeling a little nauseous and dizzy, she hoped the task he'd set her was not beyond her current capabilities, not wishing to make herself look even more foolish. How mortifying it would be if Jack O'Neill ended up having to undress her. Under other circumstances it would be nice, really nice, but now right now.
She concentrated on making herself function vaguely effectively. 'Am I still drunk?' she wondered. Drunkenness was not something she was used to and nor were its after-effects. 'Why do people do it?' she questioned, 'why did I do it?' She knew why.
Jack had to wait outside the door for a couple of minutes while she finished the job, but then he led her to the bathroom. The shower was running hot and he showed her where everything was, finally disappearing to make coffee.
The hot water cascaded down her skin while Sam cursed herself as an idiot. What the hell did she think she was playing at last night? Had she gone totally mad? Maybe. The General would probably be sending her to see Mackenzie first thing Monday morning. How was she ever going to look her CO in the eye again?
She had to admit that the shower was helping. Jack was right to make her take one. She figured he'd probably been drunk enough times to know what he was doing and hoped he had a miracle cure for the Jaffa stomping around in her head.
When she later appeared in his living room wearing the robe, Jack's stomach flipped. She looked devastatingly gorgeous, his dark blue robe complementing her eyes, the still damp hair framing her face in a way he could only describe as hot and sexy, and she seemed to radiate a soft glow, which he found totally entrancing. He figured it would be great to watch her enter his living room looking like that every morning, or any room in the house if it came down to it.
"Feeling better?" Jack asked, indicating that she should sit, apparently calm when his heart was racing rapidly. Her coffee sat waiting.
"Much, thanks." She pursed her lips, looking slightly nervous, and took a sip of coffee. "That's good." She declared.
"Aspirin." Jack said, placing two in front of her.
"No miracle cure?"
"You're the doctor, doctor." He smiled at a memory.
"Not that kind of a doctor, I'm afraid" She grinned back, hit by the same memory.
"Good times."
"Stuck on an ice planet millions of light years from home, cold, in pain and dying was good times?" She teased.
"I meant…" He paused. "There was always something about you, Sam."
She took a sharp intake of breath and he reached for her hand, enclosing it in his and squeezing gently. It might be now or never for the two for them, and he was acutely conscious that he wanted it to be now. Screw Pete, her engagement, the regs and anything else that was standing in their way!
"From when we first met." She responded and Jack cocked an eyebrow in surprise. Silence followed while he considered what to say.
"Are you gonna tell me what happened, Sam? Why you came over last night? Why you got drunk and upset?" His thumb stroked the back of her hand as he continued to hold it in his.
"I guess I was feeling lonely."
"And?"
"I decided we needed to talk but I had a couple of drinks, Dutch courage I suppose, and when you weren't here I thought I'd be a smartass and break in to wait. The rest is history." She shrugged.
"I think there's a bit more to it than that."
"I made a fool of myself. It's embarrassing," she declared, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm…" Jack wouldn't let her finish.
"Shhh. You didn't make a fool of yourself, Sam."
"I was a little…" She grasped for the right word. "...forward." Jack laughed.
"Yep!" he grinned, amused, but becoming serious when he saw her unease. "It's not a problem Sam. Look at me." He told her and she looked up, searching his face and seeing nothing but concern and affection, and nodded her acknowledgement. Looking harder, she thought saw more and moved the conversation inexorably onwards.
"I didn't tell you I broke up with Pete, did I?" She asked, looking slightly uncomfortable, and Jack stopped breathing.
"You broke your engagement?" His heart was thudding at that news. "I'm sorry Sam." Not!
"Are you? I'm not. Well I guess I am in some ways, but not in the important ones. I told you I had doubts."
"Yeah, but…then why…?" He gesticulated as if to signify why all this - the tears, the drunkenness, the rancour she'd displayed the previous night? Once she mentioned the break up he assumed that was why she was upset.
"Why do you think I turned up that day at your place?"
"I wouldn't like to second guess you on that one." He said, not wishing to presume but suddenly realising that this was probably going to be that conversation, the one they had put off for so long.
"I wanted to… needed to…talk about that thing w-we never talk about, a-and…then there was Kerry Johnson!"
Jack blushed at the remembrance and the words Sam had spoken. He hadn't been sure where she was going with those words although had some ideas that he hoped were on the right track. It seemed he might be right but needed her to confirm it, so continued to let Sam lead their conversation. It was her who had come to him, albeit drunk. If she had things to say to him, he was not going to stop her; not this time. He silently prayed that nothing would interrupt them now this had started.
"Yeah! I guess that was pretty embarrassing all round." He admitted, "Bad time, what with your dad and all."
"I don't think dad liked Pete much."
"No?"
Jack was starting to get confused by this conversation, which seemed to leap from one topic to another. He tried to stay with it, hopeful of what it signified.
"Dad knew I wasn't happy, even though I denied it."
"He always was observant." Jack wondered what else he'd observed. What would Jacob have thought of the notion of him with Sam? He wanted to believe that he already knew the answer and that Jacob would have approved. They'd had their differences, but also mutual respect and regard. "Is your dad the reason you and Pete...?" He questioned, watching her face closely.
"No! I'm sorry; I guess I keep changing the subject. I can't seem to focus."
"That's okay. This is your show, and your hangover." He smiled encouragingly. "I'll try to keep up. I just want you to be all right. Last night, you seemed to think I didn't care, Sam. You know I do, don't you?"
She nodded and squeezed his hand.
"Last night, I-I wanted to tell you… I was needing to…" She couldn't articulate it so changed tack. "You said "always"… when we were in the infirmary… and my father was dying. I need you to tell me what you meant, Jack."
"I think you know." His heart raced even more rapidly as he considered the very different tone she used to speak his name. It openly hinted at the promise to come.
"I can't imagine you not being there for me, Sir."
'For crying out loud, 'Sir', again!' he thought, 'Are we ever gonna get past that?'
"Drop the Sir. We can't have this conversation when you're calling me Sir." He said aloud. "I meant what I said, Sam; always. It means I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
His voice was low and choked with emotion, which Sam found surprising and extremely encouraging. It gave her the guts to continue so she nodded in response and then took a deep breath and plunged on.
"During all that time with Pete I think I was hoping you'd react, become jealous and tell me to stop, tell me I was wrong and that we would make something work between us. But you never did. Last night, what with everything that's happened lately, I-I was just… a little overwhelmed by it all. I have to know; it's driving me crazy."
Jack was stunned by that admission, tightly squeezing her hand as she spoke, not even aware he was doing it. So this is why she'd come over, why she'd got drunk. With his heart rate quickening and stomach churning, he couldn't speak. Emotion raged through him and he didn't dare to say anything. He was desperately trying to calm down. This really was it. "Oh my god!' he thought.
"Know? Know what? What I feel about you? What I'd like to happen between us? Sam, I think you already know." He ventured, after a long pause to gather his thoughts, and equilibrium.
He noticed tears welling up in her eyes as she considered those words. He was right, she probably did already know. She should always have known. It seemed her gamble, coming to see him, talk to him, was paying off.
"What about Kerry?" Sam asked bluntly.
"We broke up. She thinks I have issues, go figure!" He exclaimed and Sam laughed
"Issues?"
"One big one that she didn't think she could live with. She wanted to get out before she got hurt. Who can blame her? She saw things so much more clearly than I did." He held her gaze, determined not to look away and play avoidance any longer.
"Me?" She dared ask.
He nodded. It was obviously time to get it out in the open and she was giving him the opportunity. It seemed this relationship was suddenly something more than just being friends.
"Yeah, you."
Her face broke into a huge grin and she leaned in to kiss his cheek, pulling him closer.
"That's why I broke up with Pete."
"Because I have issues?" He joked.
"God, sometimes you are so deliberately obtuse. No, because I have. One big one, just like you do."
"I'm glad it wasn't because he wanted a dog. I like dogs." He teased and she laughed. "I wish I knew what to say. Why am I so crap with words?"
"You don't need words."
She cupped her hand around his cheek and he placed his own over it, kissing her palm but making no attempt to kiss her on the mouth, and staring into her eyes, allowing the last vestiges of his defences to fall away so she could see everything. She gasped at the look in his eyes and it made her shiver with anticipation about what this new relationship might hold for her.
"I guess that's a relief. I wasn't sure anymore. The thing with Pete must have hurt, Jack."
He wasn't sir anymore. Jack liked that. The previous night she had called him Jack, but with a sarcastic bite, this morning it sounded sweet and melodic to Jack's ears.
"I tried not to think about it." He responded.
"So like you."
"Yep.""So this is what I have to contend with for the rest of my life? You hiding from me?"
"Not anymore, Sam. Never again."
Rest of her life? Oh man, that sounded great. Jack kissed her gently on the lips, not pursuing it further. This moment had everything to do with love and nothing to do with lust. That would come later. Sam responded with a sigh, lightly brushing her fingers over his face and through his hair.
"It feels so good to be this close to you, Jack." She whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled and pulled her into a hug.
"Same here." He agreed.
"All these years…"
"I know."
They silently held each other for a long time, just wanting to savour the moment. Sam was surprised at how easy it had been when she had expected it to be so hard.
"Dad told me not to let the rules stand in my way. He knew my heart better than I did." She said, later.
"Kerry said the same thing to me."
"She did? I wouldn't have been so magnanimous in her situation."
"You wouldn't have been in her situation." He kissed her hair, smiling into it. "So dad knew, huh?"
"He always liked you Jack. It was so obvious that he didn't like Pete much. Or at least thought he wasn't right for me. He thought you and I should…. He never said it but that was obvious too. He knew it was what I really wanted deep down."
"That's great Sam because I always liked Jacob. Look…" He paused, lacking self-confidence and uncertain how to articulate what he was thinking, "I don't want anything happening between us just because of something Jacob said on his deathbed Sam."
She was amazed that he could think such a thing and it clearly signalled the depth of his self-doubt, something she'd have to work on.
"Jack! That has nothing to do with us, or how I feel. I came round to your place before I even knew dad was dying, remember?"
"How could I forget? Must have taken a lot of guts to do that."
"I knew you wouldn't…"
"How could I? Believe me, I wanted to. So many times I wanted to… and then you met Pete and it seemed too late."
She was staring at his hand, admiring it as he spoke. He had such slender long fingers, like those of an artist rather than a soldier and man of action. They fascinated her, particularly when they moved around, gesticulating, emphasising, and playing. Unexpectedly, she lifted the hand to her lips and kissed it. Jack brushed his calloused fingers over her lips, and then stroked her cheek.
"But evidently not." He continued.
"Evidently."
There was another long, but comfortable, silence while Jack considered that he hadn't even kissed Sam properly yet. He'd have to correct that pretty soon, and more, but for now he was very content to just sit in their embrace. It was quite a while later that he broke the silence.
"How you feeling Sam? Want more coffee, or anything?" He hated the idea of getting practical but also knew they couldn't merely sit there all day - maybe.
"Coffee would be nice but I don't wanna move." She replied.
"Me neither."
"So, can't we just stay here for a while longer?" She asked.
"Yeahsureyabetchya!"
More silence ensued until Jack broke it yet again.
"How about dinner tonight Sam?" he asked.
"Like a date?"
"Exactly like that."
"Yes, I'd really like that."
"Me too."
Now he kissed her, properly, fully, both of them using tongues, both of them clutching at each other to get as close as they possibly could. It was tender, passionate and loving all rolled into one sweet, and very long, kiss.
"There's still the regs." She said afterwards.
"I know, but screw 'em, Sam, we've let them get in the way for too long. Your dad and Kerry were both right. It's time for us to deal with it. We'll work something out. I'll talk to George - eventually. Meanwhile, screw 'em!"
That night they went on their first date; dinner, dancing until dawn, the whole works. Neither of them could have been happier, relishing the company of each other. They went way beyond friendship, but not too far; nothing more than a kiss; a lot more than one. Jack played the perfect gentleman, and Sam let him. It was enough for now to simply be relaxed with each other at last and know there was a future. Everything else would follow and they both looked forward to that.
(continued in Part 2)