Glad to see you're enjoying this so far. Sorry, but this is another one of my angsty chapters. Let me know what you think...I do so appreciate your comments.

Thanks to all of you who reviewed this to date.

NOTHING IS EVER THAT SIMPLE

By LetitiaRichards

Previously:

Jack replaced the phone then picked up the empty bottle and the two that were still half full and carried them into the kitchen.

He had packing to do.

Chapter 2 – Escape.

Sam drove hard and as fast as she dare, acutely aware that getting caught speeding by the cops wasn't going to go down well with General Hammond. All she wanted to do though was get home. To get away from her shame. The all encompassing embarrassment of what she had done to commanding officer.

She knew Jack had feelings for her, but they had dutifully left it in that room months ago and never mentioned it since. Never in a million years had she suspected it would be so easy to seduce him. And all for what? She certainly hadn't meant to lead him on like that; but the undeniable fact was that he was obviously still attracted to her. In a way it was enlightening and made her feel good, but the fact remained, she should never have kissed him. Where had it left their working relationship? Could they still work on the same team now? She couldn't see it. He would be well within his rights to press charges against her.

She felt her cheeks flame up at the very thought of what he would have to say or do when they met up again. How could she face him?

Pulling up onto her driveway, she all but leapt from the car, slamming the door behind her and flipping the remote to lock it as she quickly headed indoors.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, she flopped down on the sofa and tried hard not to recall the delicious feel of his lips on hers, or his strong arms surrounding her, pulling her closer...

"Arghhhh!" she cried out in frustration, trying to release a little of the tension she felt inside. It didn't help much. "I am a first class idiot!" she yelled to the empty room.

After draining the beer, she stood and hurried over to the desk in the corner and fired up her computer. There was no other way round it. She would have to put in for a transfer off the team. She couldn't stay on SG-1 any longer; not now. This was all her fault so she should be the one to stand down. That is...if the General didn't have her removed from the programme altogether after he discovered the truth.

She quickly typed out her letter, requesting that she be assigned to another team for personal reasons. Then she typed out a much harder letter to Colonel O'Neill, apologising for her earlier actions, and stating that she had asked General Hammond to transfer her to another team to save him any further embarrassment.

Having rewritten it several times, she now breathed a sigh of relief. She printed it off and folded it inside a plain while envelope then wrote his name on the front, intending to deliver it on Monday morning first thing.

Only slightly mollified by the thought that she would save his career, and hopefully hers too, if he didn't report her to the General, she relaxed by taking a long soak in the bath tub. It was a rather pathetic hope that it might wash away her embarrassment and shame. With the music blaring loudly from down the hall to drown out her own thoughts, she never heard the phone ringing.

OoOoOoOoO

Jack threw his overnight bag onto the back seat of the truck and climbed in rather stiffly and painfully behind the wheel. He could still feel the shame colour his cheeks at his stupid hormonal reactions. What was he... a teenager, for cryin' out loud?

He'd tried several times to phone Sam, but to no avail; she just wasn't answering his calls. He wanted to say so much to her. Apologise firstly, then tell her that he still cared for her, deeply, and that what he was about to do would save her the agony of having to face him again; though that could go for him too.

He loved her, but he couldn't pluck up the courage to say it to her in so many words. That's why he had a letter tucked into the pocket of his jacket. He would deliver it to her door, but wouldn't knock to save her further embarrassment. He'd just leave it for her to find in the morning.

It was early still. Having spent a restless night tossing and turning, his unsettled thoughts had driven him from his bed far too early. He didn't mind though, it was going to be a long drive to Minnesota, so he set off around 04:30 hrs., delivering the letter just fifteen minutes later.

The highway stretched before him, almost empty at this time of the morning. The sun was only just peeping over the horizon as he headed north east. He shoved a CD into the player and the truck was filled with the strains of Giacomo Puccini's, Madam Butterfly. The tragic tale as well as the mournful music just about summed up how he was feeling right then; love, loss, hope and despair. He was familiar with it all. Too familiar. Was he ever destined to be happy? he pondered.

That question came back to haunt him nearly every mile he travelled. He just couldn't get Samantha Carter out of his head.

Outside of Sioux City, driving through the Iowa countryside, he pulled off the road and stopped the car. He'd been looking in the mirror and was sure that the black SUV had been following him. He'd noticed it several cities ago and it was still there. He grabbed the bottle of water from his stock on the floor next to him and took a swig, watching as the SUV sailed past. He couldn't see in the windows, they were entirely tinted black. He waited until it disappeared before he pulled back onto the road, cursing himself for being too paranoid.

Several miles went by without seeing the other vehicle and he was beginning to relax again when he had a sudden flash of clear insight, he finally admitted that he had been running away from the problem instead of dealing with it. He loved Sam, and it was obvious she loved him too. Why else would she have kissed him for cryin' out loud? He really couldn't just abandon her, not after wanting her for so long. Was he just going to let her go? After dancing round the regs for so long? No! He would make her see sense even if he had to break her door down. They would think of something... There must be some way round the regulations that had kept them apart?

With renewed hope surging in his chest, he checked the road was clear then performed an about turn and started back on the road to Colorado; to his Sam.

Jack was a good driver, he'd been driving for years, safely; but he didn't see the truck come at him from round the bend until it was too late to avoid it. It seemed to come out of nowhere and on his side of the road too. He fought to stay calm as he spun the wheel and swerved in order to avoid the semi-truck, there was nowhere to go, and the monster caught him side on and pushed him off the road and down the short but steep incline.

The big green ford rolled, bounced and spun several times, coming to a tentative stop halfway down the slope, smoking, complaining with grating metal, but resting against a sturdy tree. Jack had been thrown against the side window as well as the steering wheel, the air-bag deployed at the last minute and he'd been buckled up, but it didn't help so much when the truck rolled and rolled; he still collided heavily with the interior. He was only dimly aware of how much trouble he was in when he heard a bone or two snap in his legs and he couldn't help cry out in agony. There was sharp needles of pain throughout his body, then blessed nothingness.

The driver of the truck, reported the accident and then took off, not wanting to get caught by the police. He didn't wait to see if the driver was hurt or not. He'd known it was wrong of him but there were no witnesses and his truck was barely scraped in the collision.

Within fifteen minutes the place was swarming with police, fire crews and paramedics. Firemen worked to free the victim from the wreckage; the truck being totally trashed.

OoOoOoOoO

Jack vaguely surfaced as someone called to him, but he couldn't make out who it was. He didn't want to wake up, he was too tired.

"Sir?"

"Carter?" he muttered softly, his voice barely audible.

He tried to move but his head spun and he swallowed hard to keep the bile back. What was wrong? Where was he? Was Sam really here? His head hurt, and come to that so did his neck and his back and it was so hard to breathe.

"Don't try to move sir. We'll have you out of here real soon. Do you remember what happened?"

Jack had a brief flash of a huge truck bearing down on him; then pain and blackness. It all came back to him slowly.

"Acc...acci'nt?" he murmured, feeling thoroughly exhausted for some reason. He just wanted to go to sleep. "Crap!" he muttered with feeling.

"That right sir, you had an accident. Can you tell me your name?" the medic asked with a chuckle over Jack's forthright comment.

His name? He searched his memory. It was hard to think through the pain.

"Ja...ack. O'...O'Neill." He swallowed, his mouth was dry and sticky, and tasted coppery. "T...two 'L's!" he added with a faint smile and a huff of pained air.

"Okay, Jack, I'm Daryl and I'm going to stay right here with you and help you, so you just take it easy," the medic told him, checking his stats once more.

"Uh huh!" Jack murmured breathlessly, his strength fading.

Jack tried to bring his arm up; there was something tight round his neck and it was annoying him like hell, except his arm wouldn't move, wouldn't obey him. Why? He tried looking down at it, wondering why, but the medic stopped him with a gentle hand.

"Please don't move Jack. You have a collar on, just in case you have a spinal injury. Let us worry about moving you. You just lie there and let us do all the work."

Jack tried to nod his understanding, but couldn't, so he sighed.

"'Kay!" he managed, but his mind was drifting. So tired.

Someone moved something and Jack came to, fully aware of whatever it was they had done. He couldn't help the scream that tore from him when it felt like they were ripping the skin from his body. There was the awful sound of more screeching; of metal against metal with showers of sparks, then suddenly he was looking at the stars in the night sky and could feel the cooler air fanning over his heated flesh.

His mind wandered as he tried to find Charlie's star. It was up there somewhere, though he couldn't orient himself, he was much too tired; his eyes kept closing. It didn't register in his mind that they had taken the roof off the truck in order to make it easier to free his trapped legs so they could remove him from the wreck.

He drifted in and out of consciousness and woke each time completely disoriented and asking what had happened. The medic who had introduced himself as Daryl was very patient and went through everything over and over with him, explaining the accident and never losing his cool with Jack, even when he asked the same question about what had happened to him. The young man was good at his job, continuing to reassure Jack, even as he drifted back down into oblivion yet again.

Eventually they freed his trapped legs and carried him on the back board to the waiting ambulance, where they stabilized him and made him more comfortable, then with lights flashing and sirens wailing, they whisked him off to the local General hospital.

OoOoOoOoO

Sam had spent most of the night debating what to do, even though she had already decided what she needed to put right her mistake.

It was late morning when she finally dragged herself out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom. After finishing off her ablutions she stepped out into the hallway and glanced at the front door. There was an envelope lying on the mat and it peaked her curiosity. She stooped low to pick it up, turning it over in her hands.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw that it was the Colonel's handwriting. She wondered what he had written. Had he condemned her actions and was now going to report her to General Hammond and that this letter was just confirmation?

Sitting down on the stool at the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee, she just kept staring at it as she sipped on the strong dark brew. Putting the mug down harder than she meant to and slopping the liquid over the top of the mug, she couldn't stand the suspense any longer and ripped open the envelope to pull out the letter. It wasn't very long; typical of the Colonel, she thought. Short and straight to the point.

Sam,

I just wanted to apologise to you for my unforgivable behaviour last night, but you had already fled the scene by the time I had come to my senses. When you kissed me I couldn't hold back any longer and unfortunately I allowed my emotions to get the better of me. I am truly sorry if I have offended your sensibilities in any way.

I have taken steps to avoid this misunderstanding in the future, by tending my resignation. General Hammond will have the letter on his desk first thing on Monday morning.

I hope that you can and will in time, forgive me.

If you wish to report me to the General, then feel free to do so, I will not contend your decision and will accept any punishment deemed suitable for my crime.

Jack O'Neill

Sam read the missive with growing shock. He was blaming himself? He had no reason to do that; this was all her fault. She had to speak to him before he handed in his letter of resignation; and apologise to him for her stupidity, hoping it hadn't spoiled the camaraderie between them and that of the team. She couldn't let him resign. The SGC needed him. SG-1 needed him. God, she needed him to be there.

Hurrying to the bedroom, she threw on some jeans and a sweatshirt, then grabbing her keys, she dashed outside and jumped into her car, driving quickly to Jack's house.

Her tires squealed as she jammed on the brakes outside the log-style cabin, then she was out of the car and running up the stoop to bang on his door even before the engine had died.

It seemed an age before she realised that he wasn't at home. She tried the rear patio doors, but they were locked and she couldn't see him through the glass, so she checked his garage and sighed with disappointment when she saw that his truck was missing too.

"Can I help you miss?"

Sam swung round and came face to face with an elderly woman.

"I was looking for Colonel O'Neill, actually."

"I've seen you before haven't I?"

"Probably," Sam replied with a smile. "Colonel O'Neill is my CO."

"He's gone away my dear. I don't sleep too well and I saw him take off in that great big truck of his around four-thirty this morning. I always keep an eye on the place for him when he's not here. Was it something important you wanted to see him about?" the old woman prattled on. "I should imagine he took off for that cabin of his, or maybe he went off on another one of those secret missions he says he goes on..."

Sam started when she said this. Jack talked about secret missions to his neighbours? She had to stop this conversation before she revealed anything she didn't need to know.

"Ah," Sam interrupted. "No...it's not that important, not really. I'll catch him when he gets back. Thanks! Bye!"

Sam left the woman standing there stunned as she took off in a hurry.

Maybe Jack had gone to the cabin? But then, perhaps he wouldn't like her going up there without an invite, plus she wasn't too sure where it was, never having been there before, and with no address it would be useless to try. It was frustrating having to sit by and wait, but she was determined to get to him before he left for the mountain on Monday at the latest, or better still she would come back to the house on Sunday evening.

TBC