Heya folks :) this part takes place about a month or so after Sam and Jack's amends. Hope you like, & thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I wouldn't have written this far if I hadn't had you guys to encourage me & tell me where I made some of the dumbest mistakes
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Mornings and Love, Part Nine
Sam loved her life. No, she really, really loved her life. She had an amazing job, good friends and family.
And she had an amazing boyfriend – well, sort of…
Sam smiled thoughtfully. The morning was beautiful – totally cliché, with those songbirds twittering about, but nonetheless beautiful. Sigh. Who would want to get stuck in a mountain or off-world for days on end (because she knew someone would come up with something to keep her there longer; they always did) when there was a perfectly wonderful world out there?
What was the point of saving the world if one couldn't enjoy it?
To see Jack at work.
…
And to live to be able to see him, or anyone at all for that matter.
Good points. She grinned widely and went for the door with her keys, purse, and cell phone. She would eat breakfast at the SGC.
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"Morning sergeant," she said cheerfully. "How's Gina and little Chris?"
The sergeant smiled. "They're fine, ma'am, thanks. How are you?"
"I have no complaints, sergeant, not one in the world," she replied as she handed him her clearance ID. Well, almost no complaints, she thought, putting her hand over a very upset stomach. It'd appeared out of nowhere; she had no idea what caused it.
"Have a good day, ma'am," he said, waving her through.
"Thank you, sergeant, you too."
As she had come to suspect, the minute she stepped off the elevator, one of the scientists managed to find her.
"Major Carter, Major Carter!" Felger cried, rushing at her with some…weird…thingy in tow. It was buzzing and blinking, an odd shape, with many different colors. Sam was bewildered and had never seen it before.
"Turnitoff, turnitoff, turnitoff!" he begged, meshing his words together. He shoved the alien device in her hands, and she blinked down at it.
"Jay, what on earth –" she started, her sore stomach forgotten.
"It's an alien device SG-5 brought back from P45-991 now turnitoff turnitoff turnitoff before it blows up the mountain!" he shouted hysterically, jumping, fidgeting, running in circles, and, well, simply making a big scene in the hallway.
Smiling, Sam examined the device in all her calmness, pressed a few buttons, and the device promptly stopped buzzing and glowing.
Dr. Jay Felger was still running in circles like a maniac. Evilly, she stood back and watched him. This was almost as funny as Pete honking, and she had a hard time fighting the fits of giggles that threatened to further aggravate her upset stomach.
Eventually, a SF approached the fitful doctor and said, "Uh, sir, is there a problem?"
"Whatdoyoumean, of COURSE there's a problem you dimwit, we're about to beblownup!" Felger wailed.
"But–" the SF began to insist.
"Stop standing around, get everyone evacuated you moron!"
Alarmed, the SF looked to Sam. She shook her head sharply. "Don't," she ordered. "Everything's fine."
"Noeverythingis NOT fine!" Felger snapped, stopping in front of Sam. He shook her by the shoulders. "Major Carter that device -!"
"Is OFF, Doctor," Sam said, frowning. Now this was serious.
"Wha - ? Er, oh, yes, I knew that. Just testing to make sure you knew what to do, good man!" he said, slapping the SF on the shoulder.
"Felger, you can't just flip out like that…"
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As Sam went down the hallway, she saw her team sitting at a table in the cafeteria through the open doorway. Smiling, she sped up to meet them, but as she entered the cafeteria, an army of smells bombarded her and she felt nauseous.
Covering her mouth, shocked and surprised, she turned and fled from the room. She had just managed to reach the women's bathroom when she hurled into the first toilet she could reach.
As she went through the process of upchucking last night's dinner, she heard someone approach. That person pulled what they could of her short hair out of her face, and rubbed her back.
Jack.
Yep, that was definitely his backrub. God, his hands felt good. She would've told him to rub lower, but her mouth was kind of preoccupied in that horrid process that made her whole being feel gross, disgusting, and pretty much every other icky word in the dictionary.
Sam was immensely relieved when she could finally stop, and stood shakily, faltering clumsily.
Jack caught her and steadied her. "Easy, hon, don't want you falling headfirst into the toilet," he whispered in her ear, embracing her lovingly.
She would've liked that any other time, but she felt so bad, she just… "Jack, please," she whispered back, hoarsely, "I don't feel…I feel…"
Mom's Rules on Relationships, Rule No. 355: If the guy knows when to stop hugging and back away slowly, (acceptable times: when one is throwing up, in a seriously irritable mood from work/etc, or when one is on her period and feels sore and crummy), keep him. Some guys just don't get it.
Slowly, but somewhat reluctantly, she sensed, he let go and turned her around by the shoulders. "Like you don't want to be hugged or loved right now?" he whispered, his voice so soft she could barely hear it. She nodded gratefully.
Gently, he kissedher foreheadand backed out of the stall. Smiling weakly, Sam followed him. At that moment, the door opened and a young female lieutenant walked in. Seeing Jack and Sam, she immediately stood to attention. "Sir, ma'am!" she said, surprised.
"Lieutenant," Jack acknowledged, nodding.
"Um, sir?" the lieutenant asked.
"Yes?"
"You're, uh, in the ladies room. Sir."
"Technical difficulties," Jack said smoothly. "We're done in here. C'mon, Carter," he said to Sam.
Feeling lightheaded, Sam chose to follow him, wherever he may go. It turns out he led her to the infirmary.
"Sir," she protested.
"Carter, all I'm asking is for a quick physical," he said. "Please?"
He threw his "you know you like me" smile at her, and she groaned. "Fine. Sir."
"Thank you," he said, and, spotting Dr. Fraiser, he said, "Hey, doc! We've got a grumpy major over here that I want checked out."
"I'm not grumpy," Sam grumbled irritably.
"I'm not sure grumpiness counts as a physical problem, Colonel," Dr. Fraiser said as she walked over. "What's wrong?"
"Isn't that what we're here to find out?" Jack asked sarcastically.
Sighing, Dr. Fraiser looked pointedly at Sam. Sam grinned weakly. "I, ah, might have had a bit of trouble keeping my food down this morning… "
"What she means is, the minute she entered the cafeteria, she looked like she'd just seen Michael Jackson doing a striptease and fled to puke all of last night's dinner into a toilet."
By the time he'd got to "into a toilet", both Dr. Fraiser and Sam were gagging, both from trying not to puke at the mere thought, and trying not to laugh.
"Blech, sir!" Sam finally managed. "Please, it's making me sick just thinking about it!"
"About what?" Jack asked innocently. "The throwing up or Michael Jack –"
"Sir!" both Sam and Dr. Fraiser cried, effectively cutting him off. He smirked.
"Yeeeeess?" he drawled, fully enjoying himself.
"Out," Dr. Fraiser said firmly.
"But I'm her –" he stopped suddenly, then shook his head and continued, "– her CO, f'cryin' out loud!"
"And you're disrupting my infirmary, or, more accurately, me. So leave, Colonel, please."
Jack frowned. "Oh, fine," he growled, stalking out of the infirmary in what appeared to be a dangerous mood.
Janet turned back to Sam and began her physical.
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When Sam got home that evening, her current situation hadn't improved. In fact, she was worse! She had a massive headache from Felger, hand burns from Felger's latest screw-up (at least it hadn't been world-dooming or fatal to her personally), and her stomach was rioting like a mob of mutants.
Luckily, Sam's six throw-ups had been discreet and no one popped up in her lab to send her home with her tail between her legs.
Or was that unluckily?
Groaning, on her way to her bedroom, she stopped in the bathroom for hurl number seven. Sam wiped her mouth and glared at her reflection in the mirror.
Suddenly, an unruly thought broke away from the thought stream and surfaced to mind.
Sam's eyes widened in horror.
Despite her rebellious stomach, she ran into her room and ripped the calendar from the wall, flipping back to the previous month. Her eyes caught the last red marks she could find and feverishly counted the weeks since then.
Oh CRAP.
She was two weeks late.