He didn't know how to talk to her.
He also knew that he was adding to her hurt by constantly pushing her away. But that's what Colonel Jack O'Neill did. He'd done it before, pushed everyone he loved away. And he could see it happening again. Last time it had come to the point where he was ready to give up and go out with a bang.
It was Daniel that had saved him from himself. It was Daniel's innocent belief that his life was worth saving that had given him the strength to live.
But this time there was no Daniel to show him the path or to steer him away from self-destruction but there was his memory. He knew he could never let himself go down that path again. He knew wherever Daniel was he was counting on Jack to pull through.
So that was why he was outside her house in the middle of the night. What exactly he was expecting from her he didn't know. Maybe he was looking for salvation… maybe it was her plea… Sir, please… that had pulled him to her.
Whatever the reason, he found himself standing in the rain on her doorstep.
The house was dark – all the lights were out, plunging everything into stagnant darkness.
For a second it crossed his mind that she wasn't in. She'd left to find some other source of comfort. But he'd come this far and somewhere inside there was a part of him that knew she would be waiting for him.
His second in command almost always knew what he was thinking, sometimes even before he knew. No… she hadn't left.
So he placed his hand on the door knob and turned. The door gave way and opened; she knew he was coming. The thought almost brought a smile to his face…almost.
He found her in the dark, sitting by the window bathed in moonlight. The rain had stopped he noted, and the darkness no longer seemed stagnant.
He watched her quietly from the doorway. The picture before him seemed surreal… a figment of his imagination. If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest, he could have sworn he was watching a perfectly and lovingly created, alabaster sculpture. Clad only in a thin white camisole, the expanses of her shoulders bare, it only added to her ethereal feel.
When he stepped into the room she made no move, still watching the moon through the glass. He wondered if she was unaware of his presence or simply unwilling to acknowledge it.
He stepped cautiously towards her, afraid that any sudden movement or sound could break the bubble that seemed to surround them. When he reached out to caress her he was almost afraid that she'd disappear like a mirage to a dying man.
But his hand connected and the feel of her warm, soft skin assured him she was real. He trailed his fingers, softly along her collar bone following her neckline all the way up to her temple and back down.
The soft caress, like swansdown, on her sensitive skin made her shiver. He let a small smile touch his lips at her reaction. But it wasn't enough he needed more.
Leaning down he let his lips follow the path his finger had just taken. Pressing soft open mouthed kisses to her skin. While his hand continued to down her shoulder, tracing the strap of her camisole before sliding it off her shoulder.
He heard the soft sighs and whimpers falling from her lips, fuelling his need. When his lips reached her face he tasted tears. He opened his eyes, unsure as to when they had drifted shut, and looked down at her. She had her eyes closed tears leaking from under her lashes
"Sam," he called softly. He needed her to see him, to acknowledge who he was. He needed her to make the choice, because it was always her choice.
He waited afraid that he had shattered the moment. Afraid that he had allowed reality to invade where there was no place for it.
But when she opened her eyes there was no regret, no hesitancy in them. He realised that she'd already made her choice. She'd made her choice when she chose to leave the door open for him that night. Just as he'd made the choice when he found his way to her door step.
Looking at her now he felt he should say something, anything…explain why he needed to be here but she stopped him with a finger to his lips and a soft smile.
She understood why.
They needed each other to take away the hurt and pain of loosing a friend…if only just for one night.
As she led him by the hand to her bedroom he realised this had been inevitable as much as he realised that he'd be gone before morning.
Tonight would be like a figment of their imagination.
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