A/N: Inspired by a storm I watching tonight. I sat out there, listening to Darling Violetta's Smaller God, and just...watched. Strange what happens when you just take a moment and observe. Nature yarr. No clue when it's set, or why. One shot, SJ, and before you ask for more, read my profile and go digging around my other works. Of course, there will be more, but I mostly do one-shots. Not to be rude or anything...but I'm very proud of things like Eyes. At any rate, enjoy.

Flashes of lightning of the horizon.

The rain wasn't there yet. The clouds hung low over Jack's place. He was outside, leaning on the porch, beer in hand. The blackness of evening dreariness was lit by the blue-white flashes, outlining clouds. Peals of thunder would roar through the sultry, charged air and reverberate in his chest cavity. Jack sighed, closed his eyes.

Close your eyes, and it's gone.

Another arc of lightning split the sky. There was something primal and...appealing to him about a good storm. The feeling in the air, the tenseness. People found beauty in the animate things in nature- trees, animals. But Jack...Jack found it in a storm. He had been in enough of them to really appreciate them.

I wish she was here.

There was only one 'she' worth mentioning anymore. He didn't know if she liked the storms, but it would have made the experience perfect for him. The first drops of rain came down slowly, heavy thumps into the grass. More thunder. Jack breathed in the air. The storm had begun, and nothing was going to stop it now. He just had to sit back and enjoy. But instead, he stood. He didn't know what he was waiting for.

You know what you're waiting for.

The first sheet of rain hit the asphalt with an audible slap. Jack grinned, took a sip from his bottle of Corona. It was coming down in sheets, turning the streetlight's amber glow into a hazy, distant orb. The wind had picked up, sending the rain down at an angle. the impacts on the roof above showered him in a fine mist as he watched the water collide with pavement, throwing up tiny geysers all over the road. Visibility was nil.

But she's not coming, Jack.

There was a thick layer of rain sluicing towards the storm grates, racing across his grass. He stared at his beer, suddenly lit by the cloven sky, and not by his houselights. The power was out. He looked around, the shadows suddenly very close and very warm. They seemed alive with small noises, small indescribable noises. His beer was more than half gone, anyways. He considered retreating inside.

Hear that?

Some tiny instinct had been tripped. The darkness was nearly complete, but Jack still looked. Another bolt of lightning revealed a single figure approaching his property at a run. More than that, cutting onto his grass towards him.

Who...?

The drum peal of thunder rolled through him, and his houselights flickered back on with some difficulty. In their ruddy glow, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair in the pouring rain. A jacket, a leather jacket in the shadows. The figure approached, stopped just shy of his sight.

"Sir...Jack."

"Oh, shit. Carter...Carter, c'mere. "

She took a step into the light. Carter was soaked, from the top of her head to her riding boots. Streams of water- Jack wasn't sure if some of it was tears or not- ran down her face. Her blue eyes were wide, almost indigo in the low light. She stepped from the shadows and into his embrace. They pulled together, Sam's arms curling under his and onto his back. Jack wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, felt her trembling. She pressed her face into the nape of his neck, and suddenly pulled away.

"Jack...Colonel, your clothes..."

He too was rather wet. There was a Carter-shaped imprint on his front. He grinned sheepishly.

"S'fine, Carter. C'mon in, let me get you some coffee or something. You must be cold."

He turned around, beer in hand, and disappeared inside. He had left the door open for her.

"Yessir."

She took a timid step into his house, and closed the door behind her.