Always Part 1 of
Disclaimer: See Original Post
One moment, Sam was talking to the pretty little curly haired girl who insisted Sam knew who she was . . . then the hallucination was gone . . . replaced by her father. It took several moments before his presence sank in and she blinked several times through the headache that split her skill in half. Jacob Carter sat down beside her, folding his hands on the table in front of him.
"Are you happy, Sam?"
"What?"
"Just answer the question."
"Well, at the moment things are a little rough. But generally speaking, yeah, I'm happy."
"No, you're not," he said with a small shake of his head. "You're content. You're satisfied. You're in control. And that's the problem."
Sam stared at a small tear on the blue tablecloth, processing her father's words. "Okay, I'm really not following you here."
"I'm saying you're missing something vital from your life, and the sad thing is that you have no idea what I'm talking about.
"I am happy. I've seen and done things most people couldn't even dream of. I have an incredible life."
"And yet, you're alone."
"Well, lately the dating scene has been a little stale. But, then again, I am marooned on a space ship."
"No. Always" Her father paused before he continued, leaning towards her to close the space between them. "For as long as she was alive, your mother showed me a world beyond just ambition and career. She gave my life meaning. And balance. And it was my honor to love her for the short time she was with me. And if I were young again, and I met her for the first time, even though I knew her fate, I would do it all over again. That . . . is love."
Sam fought the tears as long as she could, but hearing her father speak about the woman they both loved and no longer had made the emotions too strong to hold back. She let them fall as she listened.
"Sam, I know you've denied yourself the experience because you think it must inevitably end in pain and loneliness." He reached out and took her hand, and even though her logical mind knew the touch wasn't real, Sam sighed at the comfort her father's touch gave. "It's time to let go of the things that prevent you from finding happiness. You deserve to love someone. And be loved in return."
And then he was gone . . .
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"All right, Carter. On your feet. Let's go."
The little girl was gone in the blink of Sam's eye, and the familiar form of Colonel Jack O'Neill filled the doorway across the room. His face was cast in shadows and his height a silhouette against the light.
"I was wondering when you were going to show up."
He tilted his head, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his khakis. "You just gonna sit there?"
"Too tired, Sir."
She watched him cross the room, raising her chin to keep her eyes on his face as he reached her. He bent forward and lowered himself to the floor with a soft groan. "Samantha . . . " he said slowly, and she thought to herself how odd it was to hear her full name coming from his mouth. "I'm a figment of your imagination. You're going to call me 'sir'?"
"Old habit. Sorry."
"So, you gonna save yourself, or what?"
"I've tried . . ."
"Just given up then?"
"I just don't know what else to do right now."
"You'll think of something."
Sam curled her lip between her teeth. "You came to give me a pep talk?"
"That's what friends are for . . ."
"Friends . . . "
"Hey! This is you talking here . . . Might as well be honest."
Sam allowed herself the luxury of just looking at Jack for several moments. Could it be that easy? Were the answers right here? Did she know the truth and all she had to do was ask?
"What if I quit the Air Force? Would that change anything, or is it just an excuse?"
He watched her, the smallest smile pulling at his lips, before answering. "I would never ask you to give up your career."
That was no answer! "Because you don't feel anything for me ?"
"Carter "
"I'd let you go right now if I knew."
"That easy?"
She paused, shaking her head. "I didn't say it would be easy."
"Then what's stopping you if you really want to know?"
"I'm trying . . . "
Jack drew a breath and shifted his position. "Maybe it's not me that's the problem here. Let's face it . . . I'm not that complex."
"Me?"
"Sam . . . I'm a safe bet."
She nodded, a heavy weight pressing on her chest. "As long as I'm thinking about you - setting my sights on what I think is unattainable – there's no chance of being hurt by someone else."
Jack smiled. "Jacob was right. You do deserve more."
Sam listened to his words, but wasn't sure she wanted to hear them. After so long . . . was this what it came down to? An imagined conversation with an illusion?
"I will always be there for you," Jack said. "No matter what. Believe me."
Sam nodded, choking back the emotion that thickened her throat. "So what now?"
"Go save your ass."
"One last thing . . . "
If he was, after all, a figment of her imagination . . . what harm would it do to just move over to him and lean in for one sweet, wonderful kiss? Would it finally cure her curiosity? Or would it just make her fantasies run wilder? Jack tilted his head, and waited.
"Nevermind."
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"What's his name?"
"Now why would . . . ?"
"Humming "
"Pete Shanahan. He's a cop. It's not serious or anything."
"And yet, humming . . ."
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"Something is going on with you! You haven't tried to confuse me with any scientific babble for the last couple of days and that's a red flag to me," Jack said adamantly, standing across the table from Sam, pointing at her.
Her heart had jumped when he spoke from the doorway, and when she looked up at him, it had jumped again. How much could she take? How crazy was this? She should have stopped reacting to him like this long ago. But when had he started pushing his sleeves up to his elbows like that? It was damn sexy, and damn distracting . . . Sam could barely think.
But she had to think. Course, Jack would say she was thinking too much. Two weeks too much? Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached to her right and picked up the small, black velvet box that she kept nearby to force herself to never forget a decision had to be made. She held it out to him.
"Pete gave me this."
Jack's gaze fell to the box. He reached for it, but she saw in his dark eyes that he knew what it was. He opened the small box with a creak, his eyebrows arching when he saw the ring inside.
"People normally wear these on their fingers . . . "
"I haven't said yes."
He looked down again at the box. "And yet . . . you haven't said no." The box snapped shut with a crack that made Sam flinch.
"I told him I needed to think about it."
Jack drew a breath. "And . . .?"
He set the velvet box down on her table with an audible thump.
"That was two weeks ago . . . "
"Ah . . . "
Uncomfortable silence – something that only occurred between them when the topic of Pete came up – stretched between them. Jack set his palms on the table and leaned forward. Sam steeled her rioting nerves.
"You know, all these years I've been concentrating on work, I just assumed that one day I would "
"Have a life?"
She met his gaze, hating yet understanding what she saw there. He still understood her . . . still knew her thoughts.
Together, they both nodded and softly said "Yeah . . ."
Sam offered her arguments . . . the risks, the unfairness to someone sharing her life, the thought of being a mother and not knowing what the future held . . . but for each argument, Jack had an answer. Was she hoping he would tell her she was right? She couldn't do this? She couldn't marry Pete? Instead, since he had from the beginning, Jack offered her only his support. Finally, Sam sighed.
"What about you? If things had been different . . . " She stopped herself. The question was too dangerous . . . the possible answer too risky.
Jack stared at her, his eyes a dark mask to whatever thoughts stirred behind them. Then his lips parted, and he drew a slow breath. "I wouldn't be here . . ."
Sam held her breath as he watched her, and when she thought her lungs would explode with the burning need for oxygen, he dropped his gaze, turned and silently left the room.
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Why did her father have to glare at Pete like that? Why was he being so . . . hardassed! This was exactly what she had been nervous about! God, Pete . . . please, PLEASE don't say anything . . . stupid!
"This is great," Pete finally said after several moments of unbearable silence. Maybe there was hope. "You really got one of those things in your head?"
Oh, God! No! NO!
"If by 'one of those things' you mean a two-thousand year old Tok'ra symbiote? . . . yes."
Sam barely suppressed her groan. This was going down hill sooooo fast. Where was Thor with his light beam when she needed him? Thing was, she wasn't sure who she wanted him to beam out the most.
"Seriously . . . come on!" Pete said with a nervous chuckle. "That has got to freak you right out sometimes. It's weird!"
Jacob shifted his disapproving gaze from Pete to Sam, and Sam tried to smile, but knew it wasn't all that convincing. She half expected Selmak to flash his eyes – just for the pure effect of it – and make his presence known. But instead, her father just looked at her – waiting for her to do something to save the moment.
But salvation came in another form. A soft rap at the door.
"Dad!"
"Hello, Jack."
So much for salvation! Sam closed her eyes for the one brief moment she thought she could allow herself before she opened them again, and found Pete looking at her with a question in his eyes.
"Sorry I wasn't in the Gate Room to meet you . . . stuff you know. Hey, Carter."
"Sir . . . you remember Pete?"
Jack extended his hand to Pete, who took it, but the wide smile had disappeared from his face. A smile was still there, just much less . . . sincere.
"Sure, I do," Jack said and Sam almost heard the how could I not? follow up behind.
"Pete, this is General Jack O'Neill . . . Commanding Officer of the SGC."
"I remember you from the . . . the woman with the glowing eyes . . . Goa'uld? . . . I'm still learning the "
"Pete " Sam said low, cutting him off.
"Yes, well . . . Would love to chat, but I can't stay. Things to do . . . requisition forms to authorize . . . fun, fun . . ." Jack tossed a casual salute to her father. "Good to have you back for awhile, Jacob. You know where I am if you're interested in a good game of chess."
"Thanks, Jack."
Jack nodded at Pete, then at her. "Pete . . . Carter . . . enjoy."
When his gaze connected with hers, Sam's insides clenched. He arched one eyebrow, just the slightest degree, and she reflectively pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Then he turned on his boot heels and left the room, leaving her alone once again with Pete and her father.
The staring match resumed.
"So . . . Sam told me you were a General before you . . . uh . . ."
"Chose to merge with my symbiote."
"Yeah."
"Yes, I was."
Silence
"Well, Sam and I are both glad you were able to make it back for the wedding . . . I mean, I know "
Sam stopped short at a second knock at the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Colonel Carter."
"It's okay, Sergeant Harriman."
"The General needs to speak with you on an urgent matter."
"Oh, of course. Tell him I'll be right there." Sam turned to Pete. "I'm sorry, but I guess we're going to have to cut this short. I thought we'd have more time . . . "
"No, that's okay. We can all talk later, right?"
"Sure . . . "
Pete extended his hand to her father again. "It was great to meet you, sir."
Her father didn't say anything, just bowed his head and kind of smiled. Sam took hold of Pete's arm and led him back out of the VIP quarters to the elevator.
"He does that a lot, doesn't he?"
"Who?"
"The General. He wants you and you drop everything . . . "
"That's my job, Pete."
"What if he needs you for some big emergency on our wedding day? Would you drop everything?"
Sam stopped and faced Pete, lowering her voice so the Sergeant at the end of the hall wouldn't hear them. "Are you trying to start an argument?"
"How many times have we had to reschedule or completely cancel plans because General O'Neill wanted or needed you for something?"
"Pete, I'm in the Air Force . . . this is no surprise to you. And more importantly, I am involved in a project that sometimes requires I be here when I don't want to be . . . also, no surprise to you. Why are you saying this now?"
"I'll ask again . . . if he told you he needed you on our wedding day, would you go?"
An image flashed in her mind – for just one second – of Jack O'Neill standing in front of her with his hands on her arms. "I need you . . . "
She blinked hard. "He wouldn't."
"You don't think so?"
"That's right."
"Why not?"
Sam stared at him for several seconds, grinding her teeth against the half dozen remarks that floated in her mind. She wouldn't allow Pete to instigate an argument like this – not here, not now. Instead, she turned on her heels and walked to the elevator. He followed. Their good-bye was cursory, and there was no embarrassing peck on the cheek like when he arrived. When the doors closed, Sam released a breath.
Several minutes later, she knocked on Jack's door and he looked up from his report. "How was my timing?"
"Perfect, Sir. Thank you."
