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PART SIX

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Her neck was starting to ache and her shoulders were telling her it was time to stop. Blinking, Sam gazed up at the clock on the wall above the computer. 1432 hours. Was that all? After everything that had happened today, was that all?

"You hungry?"

She jerked on her chair, the folder in her hands slithering to the floor and spewing its papers around on the carpet.

"Pardon?"

"Lunch time is long past. You hungry?"

She shrugged. Food wasn't really an important factor in her life right now. Her life. The life she'd taken over from someone else.

He shifted his weight awkwardly and leant against the doorjamb, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was going to go to the store… grab some groceries. Did you…did you want to go with me?"

His eyes were carefully masked as he gazed at her.

Go with him? Shopping?

She swallowed. "I…Yeah, okay."

She knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make it normal. To accept her in his life.

Could she do that to him? To herself? Could she let them try and replace people who could never be replaced, no matter what?

Silently she followed him to the car.

The city was the way she remembered it, before the ships came and blew the shit out of everything. Watching the busy crowds run and move across the streets, the people unconcerned with matters other than their own, it felt like a dream. It felt like a dream, remembering her world crumbling, having her friends die in her arms, watching as her life got pulled apart at its seams.

"You okay?"

She glanced over at him, the sunshine warm as it shone in through the windscreen. "Yeah, fine."

He raised an eyebrow, the gesture so familiar it sent pangs of grief through her.

She couldn't get over how much like him he was… she'd been expecting it; it had been a given, but actually experiencing it, actually witnessing someone who was the Colonel but wasn't the Colonel…

The minute the car stopped she was out and standing on the pavement, letting the cool breeze blow over her and calm her frantic heartbeat.

Wrong.

This was so wrong.

She shouldn't be here-

"Come on."

She followed him silently.

"You grab the vegetables, I'll get the bread and milk," he ordered as they entered the supermarket.

She nodded mutely; there was no point in arguing over something so trivial. Carrying a basket on her arm, Sam made her way over to the vegetables. Some lettuce…and tomato. She'd used all the tomato the night before. Oh, eggplant and-

"Sam?"

She looked up.

"Sam?"

Oh, shit.

"Uh…hi?"

The woman blinked, her mouth hanging open. "But you're… the accident… Sam?"

Who the hell was the woman?

"Uh…"

"What happened to you? Aren't you supposed to be-"

Sam allowed the short woman to gather her in a fierce hug, returning the hug awkwardly and wriggling out of the woman's hold as fast as possible without seeming to be rude.

"I'm…"

"What the hell happened?" the woman demanded again, wiping furiously at the tears in her eyes. "God, look at me, I'm crying again. I… where's Jack? And Cassie?"

Sam shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. "Cassie's at Janet's, and Jack is-"

"Right here, Mel."

Mel.

Mel? Who the hell was Mel?

Sam studied the woman; red hair, green eyes, pale skin with an abnormal amount of freckles covering her light flesh.

"What is going on?" Mel demanded, pulling Sam into another hug. "I thought… I was at your funeral, Samantha O'Neill!"

Samantha O'Neill. The words jolted her, and she gasped, pulling backwards.

"Sam?"

Jack's arms were around her instantly, holding her steady against him.

"Sshhh," he whispered, soothing her hair back and pressing a kiss against her temple. "It's okay…"

She pushed him off, trying to calm her breathing, uncomfortable with his strange actions. Pulling her into his arms wasn't something Sam was used to the Colonel doing, and apparently it unsettled her quite a bit.

Mel was still standing there, confused and highly emotional. Could this day get any worse? Did the universe have it in for her, Sam wondered as she stared awkwardly at the woman she supposedly knew. Why, of all days, did Mel have to choose today to buy eggplant?

"She was in witness protection, Mel," Jack pulled her close again, holding her firmly in place against him.

"I…she was…you mean she's not dead?"

He stiffened against her, his fingers digging into her back.

"No, she's not."

Sam wanted to laugh; she could feel the hysterical giggles bubbling up inside her. What the hell was wrong with her, she thought, trying not to panic. This wasn't her. She didn't do hysterical or flighty or panicked.

"Then-"

"There was an accident, Mel, and she had some head injuries. But she didn't die. She only suffered concussion and a mild amnesia-"

"Amnesia?" Mel squawked.

Amnesia? Sam pushed him away again, confused. His eyes were warning her to be quiet.

"She doesn't remember a lot of stuff, but other stuff she remembers perfectly. I don't think she remembers you."

Oh. So this was what he was trying to do. Thank God Jack O'Neill could spin a story, because she sure as shit wasn't any use for anything today.

"Sam? Do you remember me?"

She shook her head shyly, feeling like a complete idiot.

Mel smiled bravely; her green eyes still misted over with unshed tears. "I'm Mel. Melanie. I taught Cassie when you first adopted her, and we became friends then."

They did?

Wow.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she stuttered finally, "but I honestly…"

Mel smiled again and touched her cheek gently. "That's okay. You're back. God, you're back. I can't believe it…I just looked up and saw you standing there. I thought I was seeing a ghost, Sam. I can't tell you how happy I am…" Again, Sam was enveloped in another warm hug from the short woman before she stepped back and just grinned at them. "It's lovely having you back. Absolutely wonderful."

Sam was crying; she could feel the tears dripping down her cheeks.

It felt like all she did lately was cry.

Jack put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her head in to rest against his neck. "It's been a long time," she heard Jack say to Mel. "She's only just gotten back… still recovering from the accident…"

"You have to come over for drinks one day. Both of you."

"We will."

And then he was leading her towards the checkout, leaving her shopping basket lying on the ground where she'd dropped it and his own basket sitting to next to it.

Who needed groceries anyway?

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She watched as Jack noisily scraped his knife and fork over his plate, a reluctance in his movements that had mimicked her own.

"More?" she questioned softly, pushing the bowl towards him.

"No thanks," he shook his head and silently placed his knife and fork together on the plate.

Now what?

This was so awkward; all of it. The sitting around the house, avoiding one another because they didn't know what to say. The silence while they ate their meal. The stiffness in how they reacted with one another. It was easier at the SGC, Sam thought, at least there they could avoid each other. She wished she was cleared for work again. Why had Janet and Hammond insisted on her and the Colonel having a week of downtime to 'settle'? It was a stupid idea, she thought angrily, gathering their dishes and heading toward the sink.

"Need a hand?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, I'll be fine thanks."

"It was good, Sam. Thanks."

She almost laughed; the food was terrible and they both knew it.

"Could your Sam cook?"

The kitchen was deadly quiet; as though time had frozen everything into its place.

"Yes."

Her eyes were stinging again as she turned towards the sink, her hands shaking as they struggled to turn the faucet on and run the hot water. Holding her hands under the clear, cold liquid while she waited for it to heat up, Sam realised something.

She couldn't do this.

She couldn't do this anymore than he could.

He moved behind her, bringing over the last of the glasses and bowls. She didn't turn to look at him, merely acknowledged his assistance with a quick nod of her head so he wouldn't see her tears. He left just as silently.

---

It was quiet in the house. Much too quiet. The silence stretched and pulled her thoughts in every direction, tearing her emotions into shreds as she wandered aimlessly from room to room. As she wandered she let her eyes and fingers trail over small mementos, some familiar, some not. Her fingers traced photographs as her eyes misted over.

That woman was gone. Never to be replaced. Never to return.

Instead, Sam was here, trying to fit into a life that wasn't her own. Only she was the wrong piece of the puzzle, she thought dully. Her edges and quirks didn't quite fit into the hole left in this universe by the death of Doctor Samantha O'Neill.

Not sure of what exactly it was that compelled her, Sam found herself standing at the kitchen cupboard and pouring two mugs of coffee. With the shadows in the house growing longer and the light starting to dim indicating that the end to an incredibly long, emotional day was drawing to an end, she started to relax.

One day over and done with. Fair enough, there had been a few disasters, narrowly diverted catastrophes and a rather large amount of tears, but it was a start. She'd made it through one day. How much worse could it possibly get?

Kicking the backdoor open with her foot, she stepped soundlessly onto the deck. But she hesitated before she spoke, unsure of how he would react to having her intrude on his silence.

"It's going to be dark soon," he said casually, not moving as he sat with his back towards her on the step.

She accepted his unspoken invitation to stay, and hesitantly moved over to him before passing the coffee to him. Coffee was the one thing she'd learnt to make during their innumerable missions; the Colonel had loved hers.

"This is good," he murmured appreciatively as she sank down onto the step next to him slowly, letting her eyes rest on the tree-covered hills in the distance.

Seems Jack liked her coffee too.

They drank in silence, neither one moving as the sun slipped lower and lower behind the hills. The clouds flared up in bright strokes of orange and red, the hazy pink tinge reflecting into her eyes and turning the hills into a brilliant silhouette.

"It's beautiful," she whispered softly, her mug empty and useless in her tired hands.

He grunted in agreement, and they sat until the sun disappeared behind the hills with a last, brilliant flare. With the disappearance of the sun, the world and skies suddenly lost the motivation to retain their colour, the light and hues quickly slipping and fading away until different shades of grey were all that was left.

And along with the setting of the sun, Sam's strangely content state of mind fled, leaving her clutching the mug with fingers white with strain. The silence became strained and awkward.

"What's going to happen now?" she grated out eventually, her voice tearing awkwardly through the silence.

He shifted on the step, his gaze still focused out on the darkness as his leg brushed slightly against hers. She swallowed, moving her leg away from his, confused by the sensations running wild through her body.

"I don't know," he said eventually, answering her question. "What do you want to happen?"

What did she want?

What did it matter what she wanted? She didn't have a choice in this world; her life was mapped out for her, her identity sealed and created. No one cared that she was military, no one cared about a career she had worked her ass off for, and no one cared about what she wanted to do.

Just because she looked like Sam O'Neill and shared the same genes as Sam O'Neill, didn't mean she was Sam O'Neill, didn't mean she wanted the same things from life as Sam O'Neill.

"I want… I don't know what I want."

She was lying and they both knew it.

"What was it like in your world?" he asked eventually, his head still turned out into the darkness beyond.

She swallowed. Really? What was it really like?

"It was the same, but it was different."

Now that was a stupid answer.

"How?"

She had to hand it to the man; he could be remarkably patient when he chose.

"It's the same in the way that you're here, and General Hammond, and Janet and everyone… but it's different because you're all different."

He didn't have to ask how they were different; he knew.

"I honestly can't picture you in the military," he said eventually, almost apologetically.

To her - and his - surprise, she chuckled. "That's what General Hammond said. Why not?"

"You were…. Sam was too occupied with her science. Rules didn't really… well… when Sam wanted to do something, she did it. She's a lot like Daniel-"

"You don't think she had the self-discipline, do you?"

There was silence. "No."

Again, she chuckled. "And you don't think she would have been physically capable, do you, sir?"

"Actually, it's more the motivation to stay physically capable. She hated jogging and weights. All she did was aerobics-"

She could feel the intensity of his eyes on her even though she couldn't see them. "Sir?"

"You're doing that again."

"What?"

"Calling me 'sir'."

"Sorry, Jack."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence again, the mood ruined. Her eyes stinging, Sam bit down on her lip and rolled the mug in her restless hands. Sir. Why was she calling him sir again?

Because it had felt right. It had felt as though she was with the Colonel again, just talking, the way they used to before… before things changed.

She'd felt comfortable with Jack, and the thought shocked her.

"Did you love him?"

The words came out of nowhere, and she gasped as the mug slid from between her fingers and dropped to the wooden step. It bounced once, twice, and then landed on the damp grass beneath, remarkably unbroken.

"I'm sorry, that was out of line."

She swallowed. "I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"Whether I loved him. I cared about him, he was one of my best friends."

"But?"

"We couldn't, even if we wanted to."

"He was your CO, wasn't he?"

She nodded mutely, knowing he couldn't see her in the darkness. Her heart contracted painfully, and burning tears were stinging her eyes again.

"Sam?"

She drew her breath in deeply, closing her eyes and willing her control to return. "He…he could easily have meant more to me," she whispered, opening her eyes.

His face was close to hers - so close she could feel the soft warmth of his breath as it stirred the hair resting lightly on her forehead. So close she could see the way the kitchen light reflected in his eyes.

So close that his lips could brush softly against her skin and whisper lightly down her temple to hover against the corner of her mouth. She swallowed, her breath jerking in her throat as she struggled to breathe. The caress was smooth and fleeting, her skin prickling with awareness as his breath spilled against her sensitive lips.

"Sam, I-"

She moaned as his lips brushed against hers again, their breath mingling together as he pulled away.

"I-"

Her eyes fluttered closed as his kissed her again, his fingers brushing lightly through her hair.

"I miss her," he murmured before abandoning her lips and kissing a drunken path down towards her neck where her pulse was beating furiously.

"I know," she gasped, her hands rasping against his stubble before cradling his face. "I know. I miss him too."

He sobbed as he kissed her; she could feel his chest jerking spasmodically against her as his arms wrapped around her and his lips pressed tightly against hers. His taste exploded over her senses, the saltiness of their tears trickling in as their mouths met repeatedly and their hands searched heatedly across warm skin.

"Sam…" he whispered hoarsely in her ear, his body straining.

"Colonel," she rasped, her eyes screwed shut tight as the sensations broke over her.

And as he lowered her back onto the wooden decking, his hands everywhere and nowhere on her body writhing against him, skin sliding and slipping against skin, Sam shut away the smell of death and the copper taste of blood and let herself drown against his body slick with sweat until the stars were spinning and she couldn't feel the pain anymore.

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And the plot thickens!