A/N: Originally, this was the end of this story, but it was a bit too sad and sentimental, so I'm finishing up a funny ending that's actually turned itself into two more chapters.
Ch 5: Laundry and Toothbrushes
Birthday cake eaten and safely put away so that Maggie could not get her paws on it, Jack rejoined his 2IC in the living room. He was more than a little worried about her. Of course, he had been worried about her all week, but that was emotionally. Now he was worried about her physical well-being.
Well, it was actually a pretty good trade-off. Carter being completely drunk off her ass was a lot easier to fix than the hole Daniel had left in her heart. He knew from personal experience those things never really got fixed. They got easier to deal with, sure. When other people helped replace bits and pieces of what the missing person left behind. Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c had all helped with Charlie, without even knowing it, Carter most of all.
He wasn't really sure when or how specifically it had happened, but shortly after the formation of SG1 he had started to remember things about Charlie other than his death. Tonight, even, just to take one example, he'd remembered fondly the way Charlie had pushed his food around his plate to stall bedtime or if he didn't like it. Somewhere along the way he had started to find glimmers of Charlie in other people, other things, and gradually had opened up enough to remember more than he'd ever allowed himself before.
But it had taken him years to get to that point, and Carter's grief was still pretty fresh. Of course, he felt the loss of Daniel just as much as Carter did. But it was a different loss, just like the way he and Sara had each experienced a different loss in the death of the child they shared.
He didn't know what to do about Daniel. He recognized that on some level, Carter was probably even angry at their friend for leaving and not coming back, whether she was conscious of it or not. But being aware of that didn't mean he knew what he should do or say. He was so scared of saying something terribly wrong that he went the exact opposite direction and chose not to say anything.
He'd make her as comfortable as possible tonight and hope she felt better in the morning, despite the massive hangover she was likely to have.
"Hey, Carter?" he asked, taking two bottles of water with him into the living room. He handed her one and sat down next to her on the couch. She scooted closer as soon as he sat down, settling into the cushion with their sides resting lightly together. Apparently she just wanted to be closer to him.
He smiled around the water bottle he held to his lips, remembering how cuddly Daniel always got when he was drunk. Sam wasn't like that, but she had always tolerated it from Daniel. Come to think of it, he remembered Daniel and Sam had always been very comfortable touching each other. Even on those first few missions, they'd be sat right next to each other on a log around the campfire, trading stories and joking like they'd known each other forever, oblivious to the things most normal people cared about, like personal space. At first he had assumed it was a science geek thing, but had soon realized it was just a Sam and Daniel thing.
"What? You said hey," Carter reminded him, nudging his shoulder.
"Oh, right. Drink your water."
"Why?"
"You'll thank me tomorrow."
She rolled her eyes and took a small, slightly defiant sip. He shook his head, smiling slightly. After tonight, he would have so much to blackmail her with. Not that he would, considering the context. Still.
Sam nudged at his arm with her shoulder, burrowing into his side until he got the hint and wrapped his arm around her. He was slightly alarmed at first that he was about to find himself in the middle of some weirdly exciting but disturbing 'Carter's drunk and horny' situation, which would create about a million new problems neither of them needed at the moment, but after he put his arm around her she snuggled into his side and went still, resting her head on his shoulder.
He wondered if she missed the casual, comforting contact she and Daniel had shared, then felt like an ass. Of course she did, even if it was only on a subconscious level. He should have thought of that sooner and made an effort to sit closer to her more, even though it was one of those love it/hate it things that made him think lots of thoughts about his 2IC he shouldn't, but did anyway.
Jack shook his head suddenly as he realized that while it may have taken him a while to notice that particular void left by Daniel, Teal'c had obviously picked up on it some time ago, and was doing his part to quietly fill it. Not completely, of course. Teal'c was much too clever for that.
Sam would hate it if she thought they were trying to mother-hen her or something, and for Teal'c to suddenly go all touchy-feely would send up red flags all over the place. Sam would be onto him in a second.
But in a subtle, more Teal'cy way (yes, it was a word - he had established that with Daniel three years ago), he had still managed to do his part, standing a fraction of an inch closer to her, perhaps. Spending more time in her lab. A supportive hand on her shoulder or arm here and there.
Squeezing her shoulder gently, Jack noticed that her sweater was just as soft as it looked. "Carter, drink your water."
"It tastes funny."
"That's probably the salt and lemons and half bottle of tequila you used as a chaser," Jack pointed out.
"I'm too full, it'll make my tummy feel like a goldfish bowl."
Jack didn't know which part of that was funniest: the simile itself, or the fact that the smartest person he knew had just used the word 'tummy' in all seriousness. Oh yeah. Maybe he would have to bring up one or two little things from tonight. Eventually.
"Drink some of it anyway. It'll help you feel better."
"I feel fine. It's kind of hot in here though. But I feel fine," she insisted.
"Hey, Carter?"
"Yessir?"
"What did you mean earlier when you said you hurt everywhere?"
She shrugged and said, "I'm just really sore."
"From running?"
"I guess."
"Okay, I'll make you a deal," he said suddenly.
"What?"
"Drink all of that water, then I'll give you a massage."
She smiled brightly and said, "Deal."
Twenty minutes later, Jack O'Neill was feeling like the biggest dumbass on the planet. He had offered the massage with strictly unselfish intentions to help her relax so she could get some sleep, because she obviously hadn't slept well in at least a week.
Now he was realizing he had either severely overestimated the control he had over his own feelings for his 2IC, or had severely underestimated how hot he found said 2IC. He refused to factor the half-bottle of tequila in each of them into the equation.
And all he'd done so far was rub her feet and her legs up to her knees, stopping when her jeans refused to be pushed up any higher.
It wasn't so much the touching that was causing a problem. Well, that was part of it, but he could handle the touching by itself. It was the fact that she was just staring at him, calm, happily drowsy, and completely unguarded.
"Do you want to turn on the TV?" he asked for the third time, hoping he could shift the focus of that clear blue gaze elsewhere.
"No."
"Okay. Well, ah, I'm done here, if you want to turn around." Hey, it was physically impossible for her to stare at his face while he rubbed her back, right?
He had assumed she would sit up and shift on the couch so that her back was to him. He wasn't expecting her to pull her sweater over her head, toss it in the general vicinity of the chair with all of her new fishing gear, and roll over onto her stomach on the couch.
The whole process had gone very quickly, and he'd really only got a glimpse of her. It wasn't like he'd never seen Carter in her bra before either, but generally those were sports bras, and Teal'c and Daniel were there too, in the locker room. Or her t-shirt had been cut off of her in a medical emergency, in which case the last thing on his mind was getting a glimpse of her underwear, or more specifically, he supposed, what was under the underwear.
The whole team had taken Cassie to the lake a couple of times too, so he'd seen her in a swimsuit, but... okay, he quickly decided his sick mind was heading in the wrong direction if he was hoping to continue his 'platonic and professional' massage. And it had really only been a glimpse anyway. No big deal.
He stared at her bare back, pale against the light blue straps of her bra, and sighed. Mumbling under his breath, he shifted so that he was perched beside her hip on the edge of the couch and lightly touched her lower back.
"What'd you say?" Carter asked him, sounding very sleepy already.
"I said, 'The Air Force is gonna owe me a bunch of new medals for this,'" he said.
"Oh."
Ten minutes later, Sam said, "The Air Force doesn't give medals for massages!" as thought it was a startling revelation.
Chuckling, Jack said, "Not yet anyway. And no more thinking. That's an order."
Since she didn't even bother to reply with her customary, 'Yes, sir,' he figured the getting-Carter-to-relax part of this stupid plan was working nicely, even if the rest of it had blown up in his face.
By the time he finished, he realized she was sound asleep. Well, okay, that was a bit more relaxed than he had wanted her to get, as he had hoped to get some more water and maybe some good food into her before she went to sleep, but it would do. He got up, half-reluctant to get away from her, half-regretting it, and covered her lightly with a blanket.
It had been a long time since he had seen his dog, so he quickly located her in Sam's bedroom, putting his hands on his hips and frowning at what he saw. Quarks and Maggie apparently shared the bad habit of taking great pleasure in playing with laundry. A basket was upturned near Carter's closet and socks, underwear, and bras were strewn all over the room. Glancing back into the dark hallway he had just walked through, Jack could vaguely make out a few shapes on the ground that indicated the laundry party had not been confined to the bedroom.
He sighed and started gathering it up, refusing to look at the individual bras and panties he was scooping up, and put them all back in the basket quickly. If it had been sorted at some point, she'd just have to do it again herself.
"Come on, Mags, let's go out one more time before bed," Jack said to his dog. She followed eagerly, she had to GO, it was about TIME! Jack flipped on the light outside and watched from the doorway as his dog did her thing in Sam's backyard, then he went around locking everything up after she came back inside.
The living room was a mess, he knew, but he was kind of, not that he'd admit it to anyone, drunk himself, and tired, and the idea of sleep was really appealing to him as well. So he'd just sort out Carter and then they could both sleep.
He sat down next to her and rubbed her shoulder through the blanket he had covered her with. "Carter, wake up." No response. He tickled her behind the ear and she squirmed, laughing a bit, then frowned and tried to snuggle further into the couch, clearly unwilling to wake up.
"Sorry, I know, you were sleeping. But you're not gonna be happy if you wake up like that tomorrow. Trust me."
He pulled the blanket off of her and got to his feet, trying to pull her to hers as well. She refused, making her body as limp as possible. It reminded him of Charlie's tactic when he absolutely did NOT want to go somewhere. With Charlie it had always been the dentist, but Jack supposed all kids figured out the wet-noodle strategy eventually.
With Carter, he had only himself to blame for effectively turning her into said wet-noodle in the first place, but he knew if she went to sleep after all that drinking, without brushing her teeth or changing, she'd feel really gross in the morning.
"Come on, Carter, all you have to do is stand in a hot shower for a few minutes, then you can get in your nice warm bed and sleep till noon tomorrow," he encouraged, pulling her arms.
"I want to sleep here," she mumbled.
"Okay, Carter, I'll give you one more chance to get up by yourself or I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you, and trust me, that is one story I won't be able to keep to myself, Major!" he said cheerfully.
"You're bossy," she grumbled as she allowed him to haul her to her feet this time.
"Yeah, well, it goes with the territory of actually being your boss," he pointed out. He repeated that mentally when she leaned into him heavily for support as he tried to get her to walk, his arms going around her automatically out of necessity. Just because she had apparently forgotten she wasn't wearing a shirt didn't mean he had.
They got to the bathroom, Jack noticing that Quarks and Magnet were watching them like they were the stupidest people on the planet, and Sam leaned back into the counter for support while Jack started the shower.
"Okay. Sam, listen to me. Do not fall in the shower, okay? Be really careful in there. I'm going to be out there, so I'll hear if something happens, and if you don't turn off the water yourself in ten minutes and tell me you're okay, I'm coming in. Got it?"
"Yup. Got it," she said, nodding enthusiastically.
"Okay, so, you need a towel..." Jack got one out of the cabinet and quickly placed it on the closed toilet seat, hurrying out of the bathroom because she was already removing her pants. He shut the door behind him most of the way, but left it open a few inches so he could hear if she fell or anything.
Once he heard that she was in the shower, he hurried into the kitchen to get two more bottles of water, setting them on her nightstand. Maggie and Quarks were both on the bed already, curled up together. Quarks regarded him with mild curiosity, but Maggie was already sleeping.
Jack's attention went back to the bathroom when he heard the unmistakable sounds of vomiting. Once they stopped, he called, "You okay, Sam?"
"Yes sir!" she called back.
"You sure? Want me to come in?"
"No! I'm fine, the shower helped wake me up, I'll be out in a few minutes."
"Okay, keep me posted!" he called back, sighing with relief. He'd already dealt with drunk and cuddly Carter, as well as half-naked sleepy Carter. He really didn't want to have to deal with a wet naked Carter as well.
Ten minutes later, he heard the water go off. He waited impatiently and finally called, "Carter?"
"Yeah, you can come in."
He stepped into the steamy bathroom cautiously. She was sitting on the closed toilet lid, still slightly damp, wrapped up in a towel. She looked like she felt miserable, but the bathroom looked, and smelt, clean.
"I threw up in the shower," she admitted, looking down at the floor. "A lot."
"That's less for me to clean up then," he said casually with a shrug.
"Sir, I..."
"Don't go getting all embarrassed and shy on me now, Carter," he ordered, going over to the sink to fix a toothbrush for her. "We can talk about that tomorrow if you want. I know you feel lousy now, but throwing up now probably means you won't feel so bad tomorrow."
She nodded and said, "In college, this always happened. If I threw up that night I wouldn't get a hangover."
"Lucky you," Jack offered, handing her the toothbrush.
"Yeah, my roommates were always jealous," Sam said, getting up to brush her teeth.
"You have an extra one of those in here?" Jack asked, pulling open the nearest drawer. Sure enough there was one in there. He pulled it out, opened it, and brushed his own teeth.
"I am SO drunk," Sam stated after spitting out the toothpaste.
"Yup. I noticed. Look, Carter, this isn't a big deal, okay. It's not like this is a regular thing for you, it's fine. I'm just glad I'm here."
"To take care of me," she said with a suddenly fond smile.
"Yeah," he admitted, grabbing a hand towel and wiping his mouth on it. "Now, come on, your bed is crowded but I bet you'll be able to squeeze in somewhere," he said, steering her out of the bathroom.
Once he saw that she was on a safe course to her dresser, presumably for something to sleep in, he retreated into the bathroom to quickly wash his face. He would have liked to shower himself, but felt like he should make sure Carter was asleep again first. After that, he would probably be too tired himself.
He stripped down to his boxers and decided that was the last time he took Cassie's advice about not wearing an undershirt. Not only was it quite chilly, since Carter had told him to turn the heater down considerably as they made their way through the bottle of tequila, he didn't relish the idea of parading his boxers in front of Carter. Then again, she was so drunk she might not notice or comment on the pattern... one could hope.
"You decent?" he called.
"I'm not naked if that's what you mean!" Sam called back.
Jack rolled his eyes and went back into the bedroom. He grinned in surprise. "That's my shirt!"
Sam tugged on the hem self-consciously. "You said I could keep it..."
"And it was obviously a very smart decision," he said. That had been, what... four years ago? He was shocked and touched that she was still sleeping in it. And really turned on too. Crap.
"Want me to get these hobos out of your bed?" he offered, looking for a change of topic.
"Are you kidding, Quarks always sleeps with me, and Maggie does too whenever she's here. She's really warm and toasty."
"And you, Major Carter, are really drunk," Jack said, reminding himself as much for his own benefit as hers.
"You're right about that," she agreed, going over to her usual side of the bed. "Budge up," she instructed the bed's occupants, tugging on the covers until Quarks and Maggie got the hint and moved over so that they were mostly to one side of the bed.
Jack laughed. He knew the dog and cat slept with her, but he'd never witnessed the ritual before. He constantly and loudly complained that Sam let Maggie on her bed, because whenever his dog returned from a stay at 'Hotel Carter,' she always tried to get in bed with him, and the one time he had tried to allow it she moved around so much and made the bed so hot he couldn't sleep.
Now, as he watched Sam climbing into bed, settling in among all those nice, fluffy pillows, he really couldn't blame Maggie. A comment Cassie had made once at the end of his usual tirade about Sam 'spoiling' Maggie came to mind. Cassie, fed up with his 'constant bitching,' as she had so nicely put it, had snapped and accused him of being jealous of his own dog.
Jack had tattled to Janet about Cassie's language and refused to speak to her for the rest of the afternoon that day, although secretly he had wondered when Cassie had got so damn smart.
"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked.
Jack realized he was stood next to her bed with a goofy expression on his face, staring off into space, and said, "Nothing. Just something Cassie said a long time ago."
Sam nodded and curled on her side, facing him, wincing.
"You still uncomfortable?"
"No, I feel won-der-ful," Sam promised with a slightly self-conscious smile. "Really, that massage was... incredible, I feel better than I have in a month."
"Good," Jack said, resisting the urge to do a happy dance or cheer wildly for himself. He settled for sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet a couple of times. Then he remembered something was still wrong. "So if you're not sore anymore, what..."
"Head just hurts."
"Ah yeah." He knew all about that. His head was still a-ok for the time being, but he knew tomorrow would be a completely different story.
He pulled the covers up around her snugly. "Cool comforter, Carter. Very... squishy," he commented as he sat down next to her.
"Your dog likes it."
"Yes, she does," Jack agreed, glancing down the other end of the bed at Maggie. "Okay, Carter, it's way past my bedtime. Close your eyes, we'll get ya back to sleep, then I can have some peace and quiet."
"If I recall correctly, sir, you're the one who showed up and invited yourself in by having your dog knock me to the ground and pin me down," she said lightly.
"Yeah, but you were glad to see us," he said with a confident smirk. "Now. Close your eyes."
She rolled them dramatically before doing as instructed. Jack was glad she obeyed, because he didn't want a repeat of the foot-situation, with her looking at him again.
Jack stroked her hair back away from her face, slowly and methodically. It was something his mom had always done with him when he was sick. Even now, sometimes, when he was really hurt and stuck in the infirmary, he kind of tried to remember how it had felt sometimes. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone, even under duress of torture. But still. Sometimes he missed that touch.
He had missed a lot more of Charlie's childhood than he'd ever be comfortable with, but one time, when Charlie was four, Sarah's grandmother had died and she had wanted to go to the funeral alone, not wanting to expose Charlie to death so young, especially the death of a relative he had never even met.
Jack had stayed at home with him, and on the very first day, Charlie had developed a terrible ear infection. The little boy had been in so much pain, with a fever and everything. After spending a fun-filled afternoon in the waiting room of the pediatrician's office, Jack had stayed up all night stroking his son's hair, because every time he stopped, Charlie woke up.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked quietly.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Of course. You? You're not gonna puke on me or anything, are you?" His eyes asked her to let it go, so she did.
"Believe me, I think I already threw up everything I've eaten since 1982."
He chuckled and said, "Quite a lovely picture you just painted there, Carter, thank you very much."
"Thank you, sir," she said it lightly, in keeping with their current tone, but her expression changed suddenly and he recognized the unspoken thank you for everything else that had happened that night.
His hand stilled on her damp hair and he sighed sadly. "Don't stop," Sam whispered after neither of them moved for several moments.
"You can't fall asleep with your eyes open," he said gently, cautiously resuming the motion.
"You can't fall asleep sitting up," she countered.
"Carter..."
"Don't go," she said quickly. "Please."
He stared at her hard, trying to will her to understand what she was asking him to do.
She smirked slightly and said, "I'll be on my best behaviour."
He laughed and said, "Scoot over. I'm not sleeping by Maggie, she kicks."
Sam scooted over, but Maggie was managing to take up more than her fair share of space and there wasn't much room left for the people in the bed. That was more than okay with Jack, who quickly found himself in a warm, soft squashy bed with a Carter snuggled into him. Vague memories of his 2IC being plastered against his side in Antarctica floated to the front of his mind. The warm, squashy bed setting was infinitely better than lying on all that hard, cold ice with multiple fractures and internal bleeding. Still, even that hadn't been all that bad, considering.
A bare, smooth leg settled against his and he smiled. Yeah, this was a lot better. He sighed, but it came out much louder than he intended.
"Is this okay?" Sam asked, sounding nervous. No, Jack thought sarcastically. This is absolutely terrible.
"Are you seriously asking me that question?" was the more watered-down version he managed to get out of his mouth.
"Yes, I seriously am. I mean, if we... if Daniel hadn't..." she trailed off, but he knew what she was talking about.
"After the way your birthday ended last year, I admit I kind of... wondered whether I would be able to..." No, that sounded horrible. "I did sort of wonder if maybe..." Still wrong. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to stop kissing you next year," he finally said.
Miraculously, she didn't tell him to get up and go to the other bedroom. Her head shifted slightly on his shoulder and she said, "I thought about it too... not seriously thinking we would... just wondering if... whatever." He knew, at this point, that she was still quite drunk. His 2IC did not, as a rule, use the word, 'whatever.'
"But," she continued. "This wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
"Me neither. Mine involved fewer people of the canine and feline persuasion," Jack joked. They both knew what they meant, and knew there was nothing to be done about it. Done was done. Daniel's absence had affected every aspect of their lives.
"Under the circumstances though, this day is ending a lot better than I imagined it would," Sam said simply.
They were quiet for a while, until Jack remembered the reason he had joined her on the bed in the first place. "Er... head still hurting?"
"Yeah. And the shower was really good but it did wake me up some too."
"I know." He resumed stroking her hair, forcing the other hand that was settled at the small of her back to stay absolutely still.
"Weird day," Sam said after several long minutes of silence.
"Most of our days are weird," he said gently, trying to encourage her to talk. "You'll have to be more specific."
"Some of the time it was like I was outside of my own body... I'm talking about before you came over, mostly. Sometimes everything was sort of numb... like I was watching it happen to someone else. And then sometimes it was like all my senses were heightened, and everything I saw or heard or smelt instantly took me back in time to some random memory of Daniel."
"Yeah," he agreed. He knew exactly what she was talking about, although he never would have been able to put it into words properly.
His hand slipped down to her neck and his fingers ran into her necklace. He swallowed hard, feeling along the back of it.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked.
"Trying to find the clasp for your necklace. I don't think you should sleep in it, it could choke you."
She sighed heavily, knowing he was right but still wanting the connection to Daniel she felt when she had it on. "I'll put it on the nightstand where you can see it," he promised.
"It doesn't have a clasp," she explained, lifting her head off his shoulder to start unwinding it from her neck. "Daniel told me the woman who made it explained that they didn't believe in breaking the unity of the chain."
"I always wondered how he lost his handgun on '424," Jack commented casually, helping her get the necklace off. He turned away from her so he could set it on the nightstand. When he turned back over, she instantly snuggled close again. He automatically resumed the stroking of her hair.
"He told me he traded a blank notebook..." Sam muttered.
"Among other things, apparently," Jack said with a shrug.
Sam nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she thought about Daniel's explanation of the meaning behind the necklace.
She blinked them away. She had cried enough today already.
"I would have done anything to keep you from feeling like this," Jack admitted, scarcely able even to hear the barely whispered words coming out of his own mouth.
"I know."
"I wish there was... something I could say... Daniel was good at..."
"It's okay. You don't have to say anything," Sam mumbled, nuzzling his shoulder and taking a deep breath. He could tell the moment she fell asleep; if he could tell across a tent, a prison cell, or the infirmary, he could surely tell now.
Jack looked down at the top of her head and smiled. There was no way she could have known that he had heard her say that once before, three years ago. Well, an alternate version of her at any rate.
He stopped stroking her hair and closed his eyes, not sure if he would be able to sleep or not. The absence of the motion apparently had the same affect on her it had had on Charlie. She stirred and lifted her head off his shoulder before he could resume the action and blinked at him.
She looked really confused, and for a second he was worried she was going to freak out that they were in bed together. Then her gaze dropped down to his mouth and she said, "You never kissed me."
He lifted his head to meet hers for a gentle kiss. It wouldn't be fair to say that it was perfectly friendly or chaste, but it was still completely nonsexual, although, in a strange way, still incredibly loving. The nature of the kiss took even Jack by surprise, he realized as he blinked slowly and smiled at her. Huh, he thought, suddenly proud of himself. I've certainly never kissed anybody like that before. "Happy birthday," was what came out of his mouth instead.
"Thank you," Sam mumbled, snuggling back into the space between his shoulder and neck. After three slow breaths, Jack knew she was asleep again.
It occurred to him, as he drifted off to sleep, that he would never have the guts to tease her for saying 'Thank you' when he kissed her. But he'd have a lot of fun doing it in his own head.