He cracked one eye open and watched her move around her quarters, her actions as fluid and efficient as they were in other matters. He could almost see the wheels in her head turning, could almost see the energy crackling around her and wondered not for the first time how she could function on so little sleep.
And food, he remembered. They hadn't made it to the mess hall despite his original intentions.
He knew the moment she realised she was being watched, saw her back straighten just that little bit more before she turned to face him, shirt unfastened over her tank top.
"Hey. I thought you were sleeping." The smile she gave him was genuine but it didn't last very long. There was too much going on in her eyes, in her mind, for it to stay there for long. Still, she walked over to him, sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss him softly.
He reached for her but she evaded his hands, getting back to her feet gracefully and resuming the task of fastening the buttons on her shirt. "Another hour wouldn't hurt, Carter."
"You said that half an hour ago. I've got to get back to work, Jack, and so do you."
"The paperwork can wait a little bit longer." He rolled onto his side, watched her start the search for her boots. "I'm going to need to talk to you again. About Landry."
Sam busied herself with sitting down in the chair his clothes were non-too-neatly draped over so she could fasten her boots. "When?"
"My preliminary report's due tomorrow afternoon. Sam." He sat up, held out a hand. Almost smiled in relief when she took it after a split seconds hesitation. "Sergeant Harriman showed me a tape he compiled from security footage. I saw three clear incidents where Landry behaved inappropriately towards you. Once in your lab, once in the briefing room and once in the elevator. Added to that, Harriman made a statement about an incident he interrupted in Landry's office. He said he intervened because he was concerned Landry was going to get violent."
She stepped closer when he tugged on her hand but her gaze strayed from his face. "I was waiting for him to get violent. Part of me hoped he would because then I could hurt him back. I could've fought back and cited self-defence. I wanted that." She let her eyes meet his. "I wanted the chance to show him what I was made of, to make him back off without the need for the red tape or the smudge this is going to leave in my file."
"At least this smudge will mean the complaints against you can be erased completely. Forgotten about." His thumb moved over her knuckles. "I still wish you'd come to me about it but I kind of understand why you didn't."
She looked down at their hands, at the thumb stroking her skin. He was always touching her, she realised. Since they'd officially become a couple, he was always finding little ways of establishing physical contact. Subtle ways, discreet so they weren't easily noticed but it spoke volumes about their relationship, about the intimacy they shared. She watched his thumb caress her knuckles again, felt the familiarity in the soft touch and decided she didn't mind it. She maybe even liked it. A lot.
She'd hated it when Landry touched her. When he brushed up against her accidentally even though there was no need for it, when his foot moved to her calf under the briefing room table and his eyes danced as the oily smile spread over his lips. She hated it when he touched her knee when she had to sit in the chair beside his during the weekly meetings between him and the other team leaders. She knew a few of the others had noticed it, some even commented on it and glared at the General on her behalf but it didn't make a difference. No one could switch places with her without having to discuss it and because she hadn't wanted to take that route, no one had moved.
And his hand had kept finding its way to her knee, sometimes attempting to move higher, even after she jerked her leg so his hand got trapped between it and the table, sometimes cracking against the wood so hard it brought tears to his eyes.
"Some of the things he said were about you." She kept her eyes on his thumb, watching it change direction, letting it soothe. "He tried to threaten me with your career, saying he could put in a request for an inquiry into the way you ran things here, into our relationship. Into why you chose me for SG-1, why I was promoted so soon after you. It would've looked bad. Your reputation would be smeared, your career blemished. Our relationship would have been investigated and I was worried we wouldn't survive it. That he'd somehow manage to ruin it, that he'd somehow manage to belittle everything we have and make it feel ashamed of it. I didn't want that to happen so I didn't tell you. If I did you would've wanted to get involved and it would've just got worse." Her eyes lifted, came to rest on his face searchingly. "I was handling it in my own way. I wasn't ignoring it and I wasn't going to just let him get away with it."
He tugged on her hand, drawing her down onto the bed so she could rest her head on his shoulder while his arm went around her. He turned his head, kissed her hair. "I wish I didn't need to make you talk about it, for the record."
"The sooner I do, the sooner we can put it behind us. Assuming your report will be enough."
He squeezed her shoulders. "If he's smart he'll admit to the charges and accept what they decide to do."
"What if he doesn't? What if it goes to court martial and I have to testify? They'll ask questions, ask about us."
"If it comes to that I'll be right there beside you. Like you said before, the chances are that most people knew about us anyway. They just chose to overlook it."
She snorted softly. "Probably because we know too much. We've seen too much. Between the two of us we could make life pretty damn uncomfortable for the guys at the top."
"Until they decided to take us out of the picture."
"You mean assassinate us?" She pulled away slightly, looked up at him with a partially amused look on her face. "That'd never happen. They'd have to use the MIU to do it and that wouldn't work. Annie's on the Board of Directors, she wouldn't let it go ahead. And General Hammond," she added, reluctantly breaking away and getting to her feet. "I'm pretty sure he'd object."
"General Hammond's on the Board of Directors of the MIU?" She didn't need to turn around to see the look of surprise on his face. "Since when?"
"I'm not entirely sure, since I retired, I guess. He didn't have anything to do with the MIU before I retired and he wasn't pleased when he found out there was a MIU agent under his command at the SGC, either. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on his face when he called me into his office to discuss it." She paused thoughtfully, then shook her head, shaking away the memory. "Guess something must've happened to change his opinion."
"I'm guessing that something was you." Deciding he'd rather get up and do some work for the remainder of the afternoon than stay in her quarters without her, Jack started collecting his clothes. He paused in the process of dressing to question her as she walked passed him in the direction of the door. "Meet you in the mess in an hour?"
"Make it two and you've got yourself a date."
It was a date she wouldn't make. On arriving in the conference room, Sam found Annie waiting for her, a troubled expression on her face.
"What? What is it?"
Annie stood up from the desk she'd been working on, wincing a little as tired muscles pulled and protested. "The prisoner, Major Platt, was found dead in his cell when the SF's went to get him ready for transportation."
Sam swallowed the words that bubbled up in her throat and crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself from lashing out. Her eyes sharpened and the tension that had eased from her body returned with vengeance. "Suicide?"
"No." Annie bit her lip. "Murder." She waited a beat, watched the emotions run across Sam's face. Listened to her swear. "You were right. These people have an in. There's another spy inside the MIU." Annie straightened, her expression warring with sympathy and simmering anger. "The Board have called a conference to start via satellite in ten minutes. I'll tell you now that they want to reassign you, give me this case so you can get working on finding out just how many rats we have."
"That would take months. Maybe years."
"I know."
"This is a temporary reassignment. I'm retired." Sam blinked. Her hands clenched. "I agreed to come back for the duration of this investigation."
"I know, Sam. But they want you back for longer. Permanently."
"We don't always get what we want." Sam inhaled deeply, uncrossed her arms and shook them, clenching and unclenching her hands. She shrugged her shoulders, grimacing when it did nothing to relieve the knot building in them and glanced at the computer already set up and ready to go, then at her watch.
She had less than two hours to tell a dozen of her superiors that she wasn't following orders.
Not this time.
No matter what the consequences.
Two hours, thirty-four minutes later, he sat alone in the mess hall, drumming his fingers on the table. The mess staff had left just after eight o'clock, with the cook throwing him what he deciphered as being a pitying look as he scurried out, no doubt on his way home.
No doubt to meet with his partner or wife who would actually be where she was supposed to be when she was supposed to be there.
When a glance at his watch revealed it was almost nine pm, Jack pushed his chair back with a dejected sigh. He stood, stretched and took his time clearing the table of the dishes he'd grabbed before the hot food counter had closed.
He heard the doors open behind him but didn't turn. Just continued scraping the cold remains into the trash.
"I'm sorry."
Still, he didn't turn.
Her arms went around him from behind and she let her chin rest on his shoulder. "I'm really, really sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
She sighed. He felt her breath against his neck. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one who's mad at me."
Because there was something in her voice that didn't sound right, Jack turned around to face her.
And immediately wound his arms around her and drew her close. "What happened?"
"What didn't happen?" Her voice was muffled against his chest. "My only link to the bastards was found murdered in his cell so we've got at least one rogue MIU agent on the loose and you know how much I love dealing with those. The Board are all out for my blood and the President has asked to see me in person tomorrow because I refused to follow a direct order and I don't know when these people are going to strike again and who they're going to target next and if anyone else dies it'll all be my fault because I can't do this. I can't find my focus, I can't concentrate. It's been too long, Jack. You can't retire and then go back to this kind of thing. It doesn't work like that." She pulled back, her eyes glittering. "I can't do it. I can't find them and I can't stop them and I can't keep them from hurting anyone else."
He took her hand and led her back to the table he'd vacated, ushered her into a seat and dragged a chair of his own close to hers. He couldn't stay angry with her, not when she had a good reason for being late. Not when he remembered there'd been plenty of times in the past when he'd cancelled at short notice or stood her up because business at the SGC had kept him away. "Breathe, Sam. And try to remember you're not wonder-woman. You can't do everything and save everyone."
His hand covered hers again, brought it to his lips so he could lay a kiss in her open palm.
She sighed but didn't agree with him. Just looked at him with a troubled expression. "I'm sorry I'm late. I should've called or sent someone to tell you."
"You're here now and that's what's important. Isn't that what you told me?" He grinned to himself at the flicker of recollection in her eyes, at the small ghost of a smile that slipped over her face. "Now. Take me through it one thing at a time. The guy you got this morning was murdered?"
Her face blanched and her shoulders slumped. "I forgot it was only this morning. Feels like it's been a few days at least." She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes momentarily while she regrouped. "His body was found when the SF's went to get him ready to be brought here. It was definitely murder, a bullet to the head. They didn't even attempt to cover it up. They wanted me to know they're close, closer than the Board want to admit."
"The Board being the Board of Directors? Of which Annie and General Hammond are members?"
"That's right. We had a conference via satellite. The President was there. They've apparently found out I told me team I suspected someone within the MIU and weren't happy with it. Then the body was found and they realised I was right and didn't like it. So they called a meeting, ordered me to be part of it." Her gaze travelled to their hands then back to his face. "They want to take me off this case and put me onto the investigation into the rogue MIU agents we've got on the inside. They said I handled the Locksley matter efficiently enough even if I did involve a civilian and take eight years to do it and that I was the only person they trusted to do the job and do it right. It would mean I'd be reassigned to MIU headquarters in Washington."
"Okay. Two points. One," he squeezed her fingers for emphasis. "I assume I'm the civilian they referred to. Not only does that insult me, it also annoys me. You didn't get me involved. Locksley did. He ordered me to kill you, then attacked and subdued me and used me as bait to get at you. Two. You're only doing this as a favour to them. You retired. They can't order you to change your mind. And even if you did, it wouldn't be so bad as long as it's what you want. I could learn to like DC if I had to."
"You would move to DC?"
"If you did."
"Really?"
The astonishment on her face would have made him laugh if it wasn't for the warning bells going off in his head. "Why are you surprised by that?"
"I don't know." The way she shrugged and glanced away didn't fill him with confidence. "I guess I can't see you living anywhere but here. Other than Minnesota. Colorado's your home."
"It hasn't always been. I was born in Chicago, you know. Spent quite a few years there."
"And I bet you hated every single minute of it." The smile was strained at best and her gaze came to rest just to the side of his face. "It's irrelevant anyway. I told them no. Several times. It's why the President's asked to see me when he's here tomorrow."
"When we're done having this conversation, you can tell me more about the President coming here tomorrow and why I'm only just finding out about it now."
"I thought that was the conversation we were having."
"No, you're trying to distract me from the conversation you were trying to get out of." He let go of her hand, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned back in his chair and studied her seriously. "Why don't you get that this relationship is a long-term, permanent thing?"
She blinked. "I do get that it's a long-term, permanent thing. As permanent as relationships get, anyway."
"See, that's what I'm talking about. The scepticism. The self-doubt and the always expecting it to go wrong and either trying to walk out on me or expecting me to walk out on you. It was never like this before."
"Before what?"
"Before there was nothing standing in our way. Before you lost your safety net. Are you sure you're not getting cold feet because you've realised regulations aren't an issue so there's nothing stopping this – us – from being more than a temporary thing?"
His eyes burned into hers but she found herself unable to look away.
"That's not it at all."
"Isn't it?"
"No. I don't know." She ran her hands over her face, then folded her arms defensively. "I love you. You know I love you. But sometimes I get scared and I worry about this not working out. We've put so much into this relationship, built up fantasies of what it would be like for eight years... I know how important this is, I know how much I need you in my life and not only does that scare the hell out of me, the thought of losing it, of losing you... It would hurt so much, Jack. I don't know if I'm brave enough to find out if I could get through this ending."
"So that's why you're holding back. Because you're scared?" His face was blank, his eyes cool. "Of all the things you are, Carter, I never thought a coward was one of them."
"A coward?"
"That's what you are. You were fine with this when we were breaking regulations. Maybe a little reluctant to actually disobey the regs but things between us were fine. And now they're not there, now there's nothing stopping us from being together for real, you're constantly poking holes. Constantly trying to find fault when there is none. Next thing I know, you'll be accusing me of sleeping with someone else just because things have been going too well for too long." He unfolded his arms, ran a hand through his hair. Pushed his chair back away from the table and stood. "I'm tired of being the one doing the chasing. I'm tired of having to convince you I'm not going anywhere."
"So instead of convincing me you're not going anywhere, you're actually going to go. You're walking out on me."
"I'm not going anywhere you can't go. When you're ready." He paused beside the table, looking down on her. "You know where I'll be."
Part of him expected her to call him back. It was what he was hoping for.
She didn't.
She didn't even look up at him, watch him go.
Jack paused in the doorway, glanced back at her. Her head lowered, her shoulders slumped. Her whole posture screamed defeat but he wouldn't let himself go back. Wouldn't give in and take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay.
It wouldn't.
Not until she was honest with them both.
It surprised him that he was the one with the level head. The one holding it together while she had all of the doubts and insecurities. Given his history, his failed marriage, he had expected to be the cautious one in the relationship.
Instead he was the one with stars in his eyes, stars that had blinded him to the truth.
Sam Carter wasn't ready for a relationship. Not an official, out in the open, no holds barred relationship that could go as far as they wanted to take it.
There had to be a reason for it. Something she wasn't telling him about, maybe something she didn't want to remember or didn't realise was holding her back. Holding them back.
He left the mess hall, started for her – their – quarters before realising he'd needed to find somewhere else to sleep. Determined to find out the reason for her behaviour, determined to find a way to get around it.
Determined to give her time to find him first.
Sam didn't make it to her quarters. She left the mess hall an hour after he'd left her, her head spinning with too many thoughts and fears and doubts. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep so didn't see the point in trying. Instead she went back to the conference room the MIU had taken over, grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and sat down at her laptop, preparing for an all nighter spent scrolling through all and any information she could find on the people in the photographs, her only companions for the night.
It was approaching three in the morning when the phone rang at her desk, startling her. The cold cup of coffee – the fifth or sixth she'd helped herself to – was only just caught in time to stop the contents from spilling over her notes. She scowled at her own clumsiness and picked up the receiver.
"Carter."
"Colonel Carter. You sound tired."
The voice had her sitting up straighter. Made her hand tighten around the cup.
"I thought you would like to know that Colonel Robb won't be attending your briefing this morning. She isn't feeling so well."
Colonel Robb. Katrina Robb, one of the members of her team. She searched her mind, put a face to the name. Working with Alexander and Riley, looking into the murder of Colonel Jeremy Bowers.
"Where is she?"
The voice laughed at her, the amusement in it setting her on edge. "She has a room at the motel on Commerce Drive. It's too late for her now, Colonel."
The line went dead.
She slammed the receiver back down onto its cradle and released the cold coffee from the death grip I was in. Pausing only to collect her cell phone and jacket, Sam left the conference room, a sense of urgency driving her into a half-run.
His words reverberated in her mind, distracting her as she bumped into a SF, and she quickened her pace even more.
'It's too late for her now.'
