Chapter 13
Despite her bravado, Sam barely managed to stay on her feet long enough to get back to the Stargate. Her clothes and hair had mostly dried, but they were caked with mud. Her wet boots had begun to chafe her feet through the socks, and the resulting blisters added insult to injury. All in all, she'd rather take on a Goa'uld in hand to hand combat than repeat her previous night's experience.
Muscles aching, she turned to say goodbye to Teal'c, who would once again remain behind on Dakara. He gripped her shoulders, looking gravely into her eyes.
"I am relieved that you are well," he said.
"I don't think I'd go all the way to 'well'," Sam said.
"You are strong. You will recover."
She nodded. "Hot shower, bit of a nap... I'll be good as new in no time." She heard the distinctive whoosh of sound as the Stargate sprang to life. "Please give my thanks to Bra'tac and the other searchers," she said.
Teal'c nodded, and she turned to Daniel who was waiting for her near the gate. The rest of the SG personnel had already left, but Daniel, good friend that he was, wasn't going to take any chances that something else might keep her from making the trip home.
When she stepped through the Stargate on the other side, Jack was waiting at the end of the ramp. His eyes, dark with worry, communicated a depth of emotion that military protocol would never condone. Left unspoken were the words that she didn't need to hear to understand. You're okay? She nodded slightly and saw him breathe a sigh of relief.
A sudden desire to burrow into the warm security of his embrace nearly overcame her then, and she might have acted on the impulse if she hadn't been surrounded almost immediately by the medical corps. Despite her protests, she was bundled onto a gurney. She hated gurneys. Helpless was not something she did well.
"Back off, folks," Jack said from somewhere in the crowd. "You'll suffocate the poor girl."
The crowd of people thinned, and Jack stepped up beside her. His eyes were warm with relief and amusement. "You know Carter, we could've arranged a spirited bit of mud wrestling right here on Earth. All you had to do was ask."
She couldn't quite muster the energy required to glare at him. "I'll try to remember that, Sir."
"Yeah. Well, you do that." He smiled, and she glimpsed a flicker of something in his expression that made her catch her breath. Abruptly, he turned back to the medics. "Off you go," he said to them. "Do your best to put Humpty Dumpty back together again."
"Sir!" Sam protested. "Humpty Dumpty?" But he was already headed the other way. She'd remember that comment. She'd remember, and he'd pay. Grumbling about the injustice of it all, she nevertheless settled back down on the gurney. Independence aside, the thin mattress felt a hell of a lot better than the mud caked rocks of Dakara.
It took two hours for the doctors to assure themselves that she really had survived her harrowing adventure miraculously unscathed. They finally gave her a double dose of Tylenol, an order to rest, and her freedom. Gratefully, she headed straight for the locker room where she indulged in a very long, very hot shower.
Dressing was a battle between her force of will and her muscles' grim determination not to cooperate. She'd managed all but her shoes, and was vehemently unleashing her entire vocabulary of Abydonian epithets on the laces when the locker room door cracked open.
Jack looked in. "You decent?"
She managed a grin. "It's a little late to ask, isn't it?"
"Oh." He looked mildly sheepish. "Right." He watched her struggle for a second, and then came over to kneel beside her. "Here," he said, taking over the task.
"I can do it." He ignored her protest, quickly finishing with one shoe and starting on the other. "I've postponed the debriefing until 1100 tomorrow," he said, not looking up. "Go home and get some sleep."
"Sir, I'm fine."
He pulled the second bow tight and stood up. "That's an order, Colonel."
She sighed. Technically, he was a civilian now. She could argue with him without risking a court martial. Still… Some habits die hard. Besides, the idea of a soft bed was incredibly enticing at the moment. "Yes, Sir."
"Carter…"
She looked up at him. "Sir?" She couldn't call him Jack. Not here.
"I just wanted to say…" He kicked at a clump of dried mud on the floor, and then looked up at her. "I'm sorry about the other night. I was out of line." The words came out in a rush.
Unaccountably nervous, she played for time, pretending interest in the dirty uniform she was stuffing into her duffle bag.
"Anyways… I'll, um, see you tomorrow." Jack said, turning to the door.
By the time she gathered her wits, he already had his hand on the door handle. "Jack." Okay, so maybe she could drop the title after all. "Wait. Please."
He turned back, a question in his eyes. "Yeah?"
"That bit about being out of line?"
"What about it?"
Her smile was just a trifle shy. "Maybe not so much."
As the door clicked shut behind him, she could've sworn she heard him whistling.
