137

Cabin Fever

Evree was looking at herself critically in the full-length mirror.., still. Sam had already reached her conclusion.

"You look great, Evree," she remarked. "There isn't a flabby muscle left in that body." It was nothing but the truth. As soon as Evree had been walking on her own, completely unaided, she had launched herself into an exhausting physical fitness program.

Evree turned, craning her neck, trying to see behind her. "You do not think there is still too much..,"

"It's just fine," Sam interrupted. "I just don't understand why you guys put off your vacation so long. You've been walking for months now."

"Well, at first there was still some bad weather." Evree was still checking out every little detail in the mirror. "Jack said he didn't want to take me there until he was sure winter had truly passed. In case something went wrong and I needed medical attention." Evree was finding that O'Neill could get her to do about anything if only he told her that it was because he was concerned with her well-being. Such a declaration always tended to turn her into a puddle of pliant goo.

Sam nodded. She could see that. "But winter's been over for more than a month now. What's the hold-up?"

"Well there was that emergency mission that was so secret that O'Neill won't even tell me about it," Evree pointed out. "Not to mention my having to explain my suggestion that my children be hosted by the physically incapacitated to more people than I can remember." Her eyes were still riveted to the mirror. "Are these trousers supposed to be so short?" They were actually on a shopping expedition to outfit Evree for the long postponed trip.

"That's why they're called shorts," Sam replied patiently. "You've got nice legs, Evree. Why not show them off a little?"

Evree held up a hanger holding two small wisps of material. "This will show considerably more than my legs, Samantha."

Sam grinned. "You're not going to be wearing a bikini on the street, Evree," she explained. "That's to wear while you're swimming."

"Jack did not mention swimming," Evree murmured, thinking aloud more than arguing.

"Well, he can't fish all the time," Sam remarked, thinking that he'd better not, anyway. "And if the water's good enough for fish to swim in, it ought to be okay for people."

Evree was still eyeing the bikini. "With so little here, why bother to wear anything at all?"

"Two words," Sam replied. "Modesty and surveillance."

Evree had almost put the thought of surveillance out of her mind, but now it came back in a rush. She looked at the bikini again. "Will it cover enough?"

&&&&&&

Jack swung Evree out of the car. "Just you, me and the lake, for two whole weeks." He'd made a careful point not to remember to bring the cell phone. No one was going to ruin their vacation. Instead of setting Evree down, he pulled her close and murmured in her ear, "Have I mentioned how hot you look in that outfit?"

Evree giggled. "I believe this is the fourth.., no," she corrected herself. "The fifth time." She wasn't sure if it was the clothes or the time off. She thought the flowing garments she habitually wore were much more aesthetically pleasing. "But I am pleased that you like it."

Jack was about to lean down to plant a kiss on her when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fish jumping in the lake. He looked at the lake, and then Evree, and back again. Discounting the fact that he and Evree had made love last night, but he hadn't been fishing in a long time, Jack did seem to remember that he'd promised her fish for supper. Well, he'd have to catch them first, wouldn't he? His eyes began to glaze over.

"No," Evree said firmly, wriggling out of his arms.

"No what?" Surely she wasn't going to insist on him devoting every waking moment to her, was she?

"Janet told me that I was to insist that you help me unpack before you go to.., 'drown some worms' was how I believe that she put it." Evree's brows knitted in thought. "I was under the impression that you wanted to catch fish."

"I'll explain while we're unpacking," O'Neill answered with a sigh. He gave one last wistful glance at the lake before starting to haul stuff to the cabin.

&&&&&&

O'Neill, in a burst of good-willed enthusiasm, or perhaps it was insanity, offered to teach Evree to fish. He was rapidly beginning to lean towards the insanity theory.

"That worm is still alive," Evree observed. It was not that she had issues touching a worm like some women O'Neill had known. Evree's concerns were elsewhere. "You intend to impale it on that metal hook while it is still alive?"

Jack sighed. "That's how it's done, honey," he explained wearily. If it was this bad with an almost totally featureless worm, he hated to think what it would have been like if he'd been using minnows. They had little faces.

"It is a very cruel thing to do," Evree stated flatly. "I will not torment the poor creatures so."

Jack was belatedly realizing that perhaps Evree would have reason to empathize with a worm. He rummaged around in the tackle box and pulled out some artificial worms he'd bought in a moment of madness. He'd never had much luck with them. "Here," he said. "These aren't alive and never have been. Can you deal with that?" He was starting to get impatient to drop his hook into the water.

"And the fish cannot tell the difference?" Evree inquired.

He could see where she was going with this. "That's what it says on the package," he hedged.

"Then why do you not use them as well?"

&&&&&&

Once they had cleared up the initial arguments, the afternoon passed in relative amity. They sat side by side with their fishing poles, exchanging the occasional comment, but mostly spending the time in a companionable silence. The only frustrating part of it, at least from O'Neill's point of view, was that the fish weren't biting.

"Look at this, Jack." Evree had laid down her fishing rod to pick something up off the ground. O'Neill was feeling lazy, and was only going to open about half an eye until he heard the rattle.

O'Neill opened both eyes wide, and had to fight down the urge to jerk himself upright. No sudden moves. "Don't move, Evree," he said softly, keeping his eyes glued to what she held in her hand.

"What is wrong, O'Neill?" Evree queried, picking up on his mood immediately. "I think it is quite an interesting creature."

"It's also a poisonous one, sweetheart," Jack said. The sweat that the late afternoon sun had failed to produce now trickled down in rivulets, brought on by fear that she was going to get herself bitten. "Just hold still, and don't do anything until I tell you to."

Evree sat like a statue while O'Neill very carefully put his hand right behind hers, glad that somehow she had managed in her ignorance to grab the snake in the one way that it couldn't bite her. When he was sure that he had it firmly, he said, "Now, let go, and keep your hand away from its mouth."

Evree complied, and watched as he took the wriggling, hissing, rattling creature a few feet away, and then flung it as far away from him as he could.

When he sat back down beside her, he pulled her into his arms, and Evree could feel the frantic beating of his heart, and smell the fear induced sweat. She snuggled against him. She felt badly that she had done so stupid a thing and endangered both herself and him. But she also felt that warm glow she always got when he showed concern for her. And this was a much more concrete demonstration than mere words. Not that she had ever doubted the words. "Was it truly that dangerous, my love?"

"If you ever see any snake at all again," Jack instructed shakily, still trying to calm himself down. "Just assume it's poisonous until proven innocent. And if it rattles like that one, leave it the hell alone. It could have killed you."

"I am sorry that I worried you, O'Neill." Most of the time, Evree remembered to call him Jack, but in the more emotional moments, he was still O'Neill, and probably always would be. "I do not like seeing you so distressed. Especially since I was the cause of it. Will you forgive me?" She pulled back a bit so that she could reach up and wipe away a drop of sweat, then kissed his cheek.

"I'm not upset with you, honey," he hastened to reassure her. "I was just so afraid..," He choked on the words and pulled her back to him, as if by holding her tightly, he could make sure that nothing was going to happen to her.

They sat that way for some time. After a while, Evree said, "Jack, your fishing pole is moving."

Distracted, O'Neill made a dive for his fishing rod before it could be dragged completely into the water.

&&&&&

Now, they were just sitting, watching the sunset. O'Neill tried to remember the last time he'd watched the sun set just for the joy of it and decided it had been too long. He took a drink of his beer. Evree was not drinking beer. She had sampled it once, and didn't like the taste. She had, however, developed a passion for grape soda, so Jack had brought a supply of that as well.

"You seem quite content," Evree remarked. She had noted that the chair he was sitting in was too small for two people to sit side by side in, so she had solved the problem by sitting on his lap. She didn't think he'd mind.

He didn't mind. "I think I needed this," he confessed. "Look there." He pointed to a raccoon, waddling on its way a few yards off.

"Is that dangerous as well?" Evree had decided to take a conservative view of the various fauna ever since the rattlesnake incident.

"Not most of the time," Jack admitted. "But they can carry rabies. Which means that if one bit you, you'd need a whole series of shots. In the stomach." It wasn't a pleasant topic of conversation, but he wanted to make sure she'd be careful, and he knew Evree loathed getting shots.

"I will leave the beasts alone, Jack," she promised solemnly. "I feel badly that I upset you so."

"It was my fault as much as yours," O'Neill conceded. "I should have thought to warn you about the wildlife. And there's plenty of it up here. If you sit still for long enough, sometimes you can see deer."

"You like this place above all others, don't you?" Evree guessed.

He laughed softly. "I guess I do at that. I always figured I'd probably retire here when my time came."

"There are no people here," Evree pointed out.

"Sometimes that's a big plus," O'Neill said in all seriousness. "Although it's kind of nice to have a warm, cuddly woman along." He gave her a squeeze.

There was a long silence as they just sat there, nestled together watching as the sun disappeared below the horizon, the shadows lengthen and the moon begin to rise.

Suddenly, Jack felt Evree's body tense. "O'Neill," she hissed quietly. "There is something blinking over there."

Following the direction her finger pointed as best he could in the gloom, Jack squinted, but couldn't make out anything. Then, he saw the flickering lights and realized what they were. He let out his pent-up breath in a rush.

"They're called fireflies, or lightning bugs," he explained. "They're not dangerous. I used to catch them all the time when I was a kid."

Now that Evree knew there was nothing to fear, she relaxed and enjoyed the show, for the first few flickers had gained sizable reinforcements. "They are very pretty," she commented. "But why do they do that?"

"The same reason that males of just about any species shows off," O'Neill replied. "To attract a mate."

"I do not recall you 'showing off'," Evree remarked, shifting in his lap so she could wrap her arms around his neck.

"You don't count saving your life?" Jack asked teasingly. "I thought it was pretty impressive."

"It was," Evree agreed. One hand started massaging the back of his neck. "But you did not want me as a mate then."

"And maybe I did but I just didn't know it," Jack murmured. "What say we get a blanket and throw it on the ground? Make love with the fireflies and the stars..,"

"And the mosquitoes," Evree put in, slapping one. "And the surveillance cameras."

Jack winced. He'd kind of accidentally on purpose forgotten about the surveillance. Too many other distractions. Like the one that was sitting on his lap. "I kind of forgot about the surveillance," he admitted. Or, more likely, didn't want to remember.

"I wish it were not necessary as well," Evree murmured. "Will we do this every night we are here?"

"You mean watch the sun set?" O'Neill was slowly starting to get used to how her mind worked. Since the surveillance was something they couldn't do anything about, it was no longer worth discussing. "If you want to, I suppose. Do you like it?"

"Very much," Evree replied, snuggling against him. "We almost never seem to have time for things like this. To just be together with nothing else to do."

"That's what a vacation is for," Jack responded. It was nice, and he was in no great hurry to get up anyway. So much of their relationship had been hormonally based that is was a novelty just to sit and chat about whatever took their fancies. But then, hadn't that been part of the thinking behind the whole trip?

"While we are here, perhaps you could begin teaching me to cook," Evree said out of the clear blue.

"You want to learn to cook?" For some reason, the request floored O'Neill. "Why?"

"Because I do not know how," Evree answered. "You do everything, even the laundry. I find this relationship to be highly inequitable when it should be as equal partners."

Jack mulled it over. There had been times when he'd felt a little irritated when she had just stood idly by, watching as he worked, so her couldn't very well say that he didn't mind, because he did. But he did understand. Evree had never lifted a finger for herself in her life, nor had she needed to. And when was he going to have this much leisure to show her the ropes? "Sure," he agreed. "Just don't get bent out of shape if you make a few mistakes."

"I am aware that there is a larger margin of error for a beginner than an expert," Evree shot back, sounding a little miffed.

"I'm just saying that I've noticed that you're something of a perfectionist," O'Neill explained patiently, trying to keep his tones as uncritical as possible. "And you're not going to be able to do things perfectly right away. At least, not with cooking. Some people never get the hang of it."

"How can they not if they follow the instructions in the book?" Evree asked, puzzled. At least she wasn't sounding offended anymore.

"I don't know," Jack replied. "But there are some people out there who can follow a recipe every step of the way and still come up with something even the dog won't eat."

Evree thought about it for a while. She hadn't realized it was such a complex task. "So you are saying it is not just a matter of knowledge, but of talent as well?"

"Something like that," O'Neill conceded.

"Maybe I had just better wash the dishes," Evree said in a small voice.

"Don't worry, hon," Jack soothed. "I'll start you out on easy stuff. And I'll be right there to help you. You'll do fine."

"You can say that when I have no discernable talents?" Evree was confused.

"Everybody's got talents," Jack declared. "You just don't know what yours are because you've never had to do anything." He started nuzzling her neck. "I can think of at least one thing you're very talented at."

Evree flushed. "That is not talent," she argued. "That is instinctive response to sensory stimuli."

Jack didn't stop what he was doing, and mumbled against her neck. "If that were true, it would be the same no matter who you slept with." He boosted her out of his lap and stood up. Gallantry was one thing, but he was not going to try picking her up from a sitting position. Especially with a couple of beers in him. "How about a practical demonstration away from the surveillance cameras?"

&&&&&

Evree was still in the bathroom, getting into something slinky and sexy. Sometimes O'Neill thought that she spent more time getting ready for bed than she did to face the day. And here he was, ready to go. Well, almost ready. There was one more thing he needed, and suddenly his casual rummaging around in his suitcase became a frantic search. He couldn't have forgotten, could he? The nearest town was over an hour away, and would be closed up at this hour anyway. His search became even more frenzied when he heard the bathroom door open.

"Is something wrong?" Evree came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Jack felt torn in several directions at once. He didn't want to ruin the first night of their vacation, but this was ground they'd already covered. He sighed. He took risks all the time, it was part of his job. But this was a different kind of risk altogether. Then part of him said that risk always comes with love, whether for family, friends or a bedmate, that there was always a chance of getting hurt. And if you didn't take the risks and go ahead and love anyway, you weren't really living.

"O'Neill?" He had been still so long that Evree was becoming concerned.

Jack turned around and took her in his arms. "Nothing's wrong," he assured her. "I was just thinking."

"Think later," Evree ordered. "Now it is time for making love."

It was an order that O'Neill thought he could live with, although there was still a part of him that felt he was taking a bigger risk than he ever did when he stepped through the stargate.