Ch 8: Small Potatoes
Jack O'Neill had a plan. Sam was playing computer solitaire on her laptop at the coffee table. He brought the chess board over and set it down in front of her.
"I've got an idea," he said with a smile, setting up the pieces.
"No offence, sir, but I'm getting a little tired of chess," Sam said.
He snapped the lid of her laptop shut, pretending he hadn't heard her. "Hey!" she objected loudly.
"That's why my idea to make the game a little more interesting is so brilliant. If you win, I'll jump in the lake and test out your little theory that it's warm enough to go swimming now."
"And on the off-chance you win?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know," he said casually, looking around as though searching for an idea off the top of his head. "I guess… if I win… you have to stop calling me 'sir.'"
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Okay," she agreed.
"That overconfident, huh?" he asked with a smirk.
"Justifiably confident, sir. Not overconfident," she said, moving a white pawn.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Double or nothing?" Jack asked with a winning grin an hour and a half later, standing on the edge of the dock, shivering slightly in the chilly breeze. He was in his shorts, a towel draped over his chair, staring down into the water, looking slightly nervous.
"Nope. We had a deal, sir," she reminded him with a smile.
He mock-glared and said, "Uh, the thing is, I'm slightly concerned because Thor really overstocked it, so it's really crowded in there and…"
"I bet they can make room for you, sir. Go ahead."
"If Thor is watching this, I really think this should prove he needs to consider revoking my 'advanced thinker' club membership ."
"I completely agree, sir," Sam deadpanned.
"Hey! That's insubordination, Carter!"
"Fine, write me up when we get back," she challenged, crossing her arms.
"Ohfercryinoutloud," Jack muttered, taking a deep breath and jumping off the dock.
The water was still damn cold, as he had expected. But he wasn't special ops trained for nothing. Resisting the urge to chatter his teeth, he said, "Hey, you were right, Carter, this is great!"
"It is?" she asked sceptically. "You look a little cold…"
"It's a bit chilly but really refreshing. Feels great on the old knee. Wanna join me?"
"I don't think so," she said firmly, backing away from the edge of the dock just to be safe.
"Aw, come on."
"Nice try, sir," she said, shaking her head. She picked up his towel casually. "It would be a shame if I accidentally took this back inside with me…"
"All right, all right, you win," he said, pulling himself back up onto the dock, dripping wet and erupting in goosebumps immediately. He took the towel from her with unnecessary force and started drying himself off. "This time," he added, hurrying inside before she could see how very cold he actually was.
Smiling triumphantly, Sam followed him back up to the house, resisting the urge to crank the air conditioner way up just to annoy him.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Over the next couple of weeks, Jack entertained them both by making as many bets as he could come up with, on everything from who would catch the first fish of the day, to what species it would be, to who could win at the few games he had up at his cabin, to who knew the most about 'Star Wars.'
During that particular bet, Jack was revealed to be a closet fan, despite his continuous insistence that he 'hated sci-fi.' Still, Sam prevailed when she knew that Kenny Baker was the name of the man in the R2D2 costume, and sent a silent 'thank you' to Teal'c, who knew everything about 'Star Wars,' and Daniel, who had first introduced it to him.
Jack's stakes were always the same, on his side of the bet (she had to stop calling him 'sir'). And he always lost. He ended up having to do all the laundry, make lunch twice and dinner once, go a whole day without fishing, clean the cabin, and stand on his head for two minutes.
Things got worse halfway through the second week when Sam remembered Thor was monitoring their activities and had started making him do embarrassing things when he lost, like sing, 'You Were Always On My Mind,' to a particularly fat bass he caught one afternoon.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Thor, are you sure this is… working? It looks to me like they're just going insane," General Hammond said in concern as he watched Colonel Jack O'Neill, one of the toughest (albeit goofiest) men he had ever known, singing his heart out on the dock in the middle of a bright, sunnyday… to a fish. "Talk about animal cruelty," Hammond muttered.
"Your courtship rituals are very strange indeed, and my studies show they vary dramatically on a case by case basis. I believe Major Carter and O'Neill are indeed becoming much closer and much more comfortable with each other, despite the strangeness of O'Neill's behavior."
"Well, I hope so," Hammond said uncertainly.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I don't believe it," Jack said quietly, going unnaturally still as he stared at the chess board.
"What?" Sam asked, looking at the board in alarm. Suddenly, she saw it too. "Oh no," she said quickly.
He moved his castle. "Check mate," he said in quiet awe. Two weeks and he finally won a bet. And chess at that. "Ha! I won! YOU lost!" he exclaimed triumphantly, getting to his feet and doing a victory dance.
She watched him, laughing. When he sat back down, he was smirking. He leaned back into the couch and crossed his arms triumphantly. "I believe you have something to say to me," he said pointedly. "Or more specifically, something not to say to me."
"All right. You win. I won't call you 'sir' anymore, Colonel."
"What? Wait. Jack. You've got to call me Jack now," he protested.
"That wasn't the bet, Colonel," she pointed out innocently. "You specifically said that if you won, I had to stop calling you 'sir.' You didn't mention anything about what I had to call you instead."
"I… you KNEW what I meant… aw crap! Okay, okay, one more game, this time..."
"Not tonight, I'm awfully tired, I think I'll go ahead and go to sleep now," she said casually, getting up and stretching. He glowered at her as she practically skipped out of the room.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Wow, I can't believe he finally beat her at chess," Hammond said. He was seriously considering having a microwave brought into his office, so he could have some popcorn ready when Thor showed up with his little highlights reels.
"Major Carter is a very smart human," Thor commented.
"Yes, she is, but that's not exactly news, Thor."
"It was quite late at night, it is possible she was tired and not concentrating properly."
"But…"
"Were I to begin placing bets as Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill are doing, I would bet that she is tiring of O'Neill's game and lost intentionally so that he would stop."
"Good point. I'd say it's a definite possibility."
"I will add it to the list of things to ask them when this is over."
"Yeah, care to place any bets on when that might be?"
"Soon," Thor said, narrowing his eyes and disappearing in his beam of light.
"Very helpful," Hammond said sarcastically to his empty office.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jack woke up with a groan. He had gone to sleep early that night. Carter had still been doing something on her computer, in the den. He glanced at his bedroom door. It was open a crack, enough for him to see there was still a light on somewhere.
He got up, his knees creaking, and went to go turn it off. He stopped in surprise as he realized it was the light on the deck that was on. "Carter? You out here?" he asked, poking his head out the back door.
There was a lot of thrashing and splashing coming from the lake.
"Carter?" he yelled, having no idea what she could possibly be doing out on the pond in the middle of the night.
It sounded like she needed help though. He hurried to the dock, trying to see, but it was really dark. Of course, they were in the middle of nowhere, not a streetlight in sight. There was a lantern on the dock but all it really illuminated was a crumpled towel and a pair of sandals.
He could vaguely make out that she was in the middle of the lake, doing an awful lot of splashing. She didn't answer when he yelled at her either. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the cold water. It was still a bit too chilly to be comfy during the day, but at night it was even worse.
He quickly swam out to her and grabbed some part of her underwater; he was pretty sure it was her leg. She yelped and started kicking him under water and swatting at him. "Carter! Carter, relax, it's me!" he said, finally managing to grab both her wrists.
"Colonel, what are you doing out here?" she demanded.
"Me! What the hell are you doing out here, I thought you were drowning or being attacked by a flounder or something!"
"Attacked by a flounder?" she asked sceptically.
"Oh shut up. Come on, let's continue this conversation inside."
"I wasn't… done."
"You are now," he said firmly, shoving her in the direction of the dock.
She climbed up out of the water, grabbed her towel, and dried off her face, then wrapped it around her tightly, shoved her feet in her shoes, picked up her lantern, and headed back to the cabin. Jack scrambled after her, as she had the light and he had no towel and was freezing his ass off.
"You're WELCOME!" he called in an irritated voice.
Sam stalked into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Jack went to his room, slamming his door as well. He then realized he still had no towel. He poked his head out of his room cautiously and hurried into the bathroom, looking for a towel. There weren't any. He groaned as he remembered they'd done laundry again that day. And she'd volunteered to fold it.
Well, he could freeze to death, use his freshly laundered sheets to dry himself off, getting them dirty with pond water, or he could go ask a very angry and therefore very dangerous Sam for a towel. He hugged his arms and hopped up and down in one spot as he contemplated his options.
Finally, teeth chattering, he went to her door and banged on it loudly. "I need a towel!" The door opened, he caught a quick flash of his 2IC, and then was hit in the face with a towel. The door slammed shut again and he yelled, "THANK YOU!" as he stomped back to his room.
Back in his room, door slammed with a loud, satisfying noise once again, he stripped out of his wet sleeping clothes and dried himself off, then pulled on a new pair of sweatpants and an undershirt. He towel dried his hair with much more force than was required, muttering under his breath.
Sam squeezed the extra water out of her hair, which was really getting in desperate need of a trim. She looked around, grabbed her bathrobe, and pulled it on, tying it tightly and realizing she was still freezing. She put on some socks and sat down on the foot of her bed to comb out her wet hair.
When she was done, she was still freezing. Jack O'Neill was nothing if not stubborn. In all likelihood he'd be staying in his room, sulking or brooding or whatever it was he went off and did alone when he was in a bad mood. She could probably get to the kitchen and make some coffee undetected. It wasn't likely she'd be sleeping tonight anyway after all that drama.
She peeked out of her room. His door was closed. All the lights in the cabin seemed off, except for the lamp at the end of the couch in the den, which was always left on for safety. She tiptoed into the kitchen and bit her lip, glancing back through the den and straining her ears for any sound. Nothing. Sighing in relief, she fumbled briefly for the light switch and illuminated the kitchen.
"Holy Hannah!"
She actually jumped as she spotted her CO. He was sitting on the counter in the dark next to the coffee pot, looking more smug than anybody should be allowed to look, especially so late at night.
"Can I help you with something, Carter?" he asked innocently, pouring a cup of coffee and setting it on the counter, nudging it slowly to the farthest spot he could reach from his perch.
She looked from the mug to Jack, trying to decide if the coffee was worth it or not.
"One way or another you're going to tell me what the hell that was all about. I can ply you with coffee and you can get warmed up and talk, or we can do it the hard way."
"What exactly would that be?"
"Headlock," he said with a shrug.
She sighed and took the coffee cup, then went into the den. He followed and sat down at the opposite end of the couch from her, turning to face her. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and curled up under it in a little ball, sipping her coffee.
Jack gave her a good five minutes to get her body warmed up and her temper cooled down, and said, "When we go home, remind me to send a message to Dad. That man deserves a medal."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, knowing that statement was a setup, but she had to ask. "Why?"
"Well, judging by the temper tantrum you threw a little while ago, I can't imagine what sort of monster you must have been during the Terrible Twos."
"I did not throw a tantrum! You were just as upset as I was anyway!" No, she had not thrown a tantrum and was most certainly not gearing up for another one. She was just... sleepy. And grumpy. And probably a few of the other dwarves as well.
"Well, I tend to get that way when I wake up in the middle of the night and think my 2IC is drowning in the middle of the damn lake!" Jack yelled.
So she wasn't the only Grumpy in the room. Not a good combination. "Well, I wasn't drowning, I was just swimming! And you scared the hell out of me!"
"I scared the hell out of you? Carter, I thought you were DYING! Maybe I overreacted a little but I couldn't see anything and you didn't answer me, what the hell was I supposed to think!"
"I TOLD you I was fine and you still made me get out of the water!"
"Why did you feel the need to go swimming in the middle of the night in a freezing lake?" Jack yelled.
"So I could get some damn sleep!" she yelled back.
"Wh… what?"
"I just… I've been having trouble sleeping lately, and if I swim enough laps I get really tired and then I can sleep," she explained, calming down somewhat from round two of their yelling match.
"You've done that before?" he asked incredulously.
She shrugged, looking guilty. "Just since it's been warm enough."
"Whether it's warm enough or not is still debatable, and I'm not sure it's such a good idea to be swimming around a lot in there. What if you caught pneumonia or something, we can't exactly pop over to the infirmary, you know."
"Maybe if I got sick Thor would have to take us home," Sam mumbled into her empty coffee cup.
When Jack didn't respond to that, she finally looked at him, and he had a strange look on his face. Like he had been in the middle of an epiphany, and somebody had shown him a bag of dead kittens. "Carter," he finally said. "I think it's time we had a little talk."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Notes: I am going to stop predicting when the next chapter may or may not be out, as I'm gaining nothing by it other than proving myself a liar. Sorry, bad place to leave it off, I know. But the conversation was just way too long. The next chapter is almost done already though.