Tenth chapter coming up :) Would anyone care to place a wager: Is Sam really, or isn't she? Let's find out, shall we? --smirk--
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Mornings and Love, Part Ten
Sam leaned against the wall, her knees weak, rioting stomach all forgotten. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."
As she ran her hand through her short, blonde hair, Sam tried to calm herself. Deep breaths, deeeeeep breaths. "Just because you're a little late, it doesn't mean you're pregnant," she told herself firmly. "It could be a coincidence." An unlikely coincidence, granted.
"It's nothing to worry about," she said aloud, her voice providing only some comfort. "I'll just go to the grocery store and get a box of home pregnancy tests. Absolutely nothing to worry about. If it's false, it's false, and I'm all hyperventilating over nothing. If it's true…"
She didn't want to think about what she'd do or feel if it was proven true, first by a little stick, and then by the doctors she'd go to afterwards. Because if it was false, she didn't want to get excited to only get let down.
And if it's true, there ARE those pesky side effects of having your CO's baby. Like court marshal, demoting, dishonorable discharge, any combination of those.
Did Jack even want a child?
Sam's mind went to Charlie as she drove. Her heart went out to Jack. He probably put every ounce of blame on himself, when in truth it wasn't. Yes, Charlie got to his personal sidearm, but if she knew Jack, he had probably pounded gun safety into Charlie's head the moment the kid took interest. Before then, even. She didn't know the exact circumstances, but she could easily see Jack sitting at home, caring for his weapon, when he got an urgent phone call and was called away; not having time to lock it away properly, he would rush out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Then getting home, to find his wife welcoming him with open arms, then to hear a shattering bullet pierce the air.
Would Jack want a child after his own son died, regardless of the circumstances surrounding Charlie's death.
He was great with kids. Look at Cassie! And Merrin, from that planet that sucked kids' brains out. And Retu Charlie. And Skaara.
But his own?
Sam pulled into the parking lot of the local grocery and went inside, stalking down aisles like she was on a hunt and destroy mission. Finally she came to the feminine health products, and swiped the first box of tests she could find off the shelf. She was about to turn around and march to the cash register to pay, when she heard the door open with the dingle of a bell, and a voice speaking politely, probably to the clerk.
"Good afternoon."
Jack!
Even in her own mind, Sam found that she sounded pathetically like Felger: Ohno! Ohno! Ohno! Whaddo I DO?
Quickly she gathered an array of items she didn't really need, including some that, if she was right, she wouldn't need for almost a year: tampons, and maxi pads. She decided that shampoo wouldn't hurt, either, or conditioner, or shaving cream, or more razors…
Spotting a basket rack at the end of the aisle, she grabbed one and dumped the items in, rearranging them so that the tests weren't visible. Huh. Needs more items, she thought, noticing that the items she'd procured didn't have quite the right effect. She wandered down some of the aisles and picked up some frozen dinners, peanut butter, and fruit.
Huh. That actually sounded good, peanut butter and fruit. Mmmm. Apples, grapes, and bananas, all covered with peanut butter – and CHOCOLATE! Her mouth started watering. She was surprised this, of all food combos, didn't make her puke. Just the thought of a salad, steak, and baked potato made her feel sick.
Oh, hello cravings. And the odds that I'm not pregnant are…?
To her basket, she added chocolate syrup, double-fudge brownie ice cream, and two bags of Hershey's bars, the dark kind. Mmmmmmmmm.
With thoughts of fruit, peanut butter, and chocolate running through her mind, she almost forgot the reason she had a basket-full of items when she was only here for one product. Jack. She stood behind him at the counter, and, when he heard her approach, he looked over his shoulder.
"Oh, hey, Carter!" he said brightly. "Feeling any better?" he asked sympathetically.
"Um, yes sir," she said. Act nonchalant. It's no biggie that you're seeing your CO at the store. It never was before, and it's not now. "Thank you," she added. She was touched by his concern.
"Wanna come over to my place?" he asked. "We've got pizza, beer, chips, and beer!"
Her throat felt tight and well, puke-ish at the very thought. "No thank you, sir," she said, forcing herself to smile. "Game night?" she asked.
"Yep. Hockey," he said, grinning that grin that turned her insides to mush.
Sam did her turtle dove duck to hide her growing smile, then met his eyes again, a true smile firmly in place.
Suddenly, his teasing gaze turned soft and warm, and he gentle touched her forearm. "Hey," he said softly, "you sure you don't want to come 'round? I'd love your company. We never really see each other outside of work, since…well, not like that anymore."
They had seen each other several times outside of work, in cozy, boyfriend-girlfriend situations. But none had been intimate, not since that night. Was it sex he wanted? Well, she had said she was feeling better. Thinking about the possibility, she realized she would probably barf her guts out all over him, and herself.
"I'm sure, sir," she said, her eyes darting at her basket. "I have something to do at home."
"Cleaning? Work? Carter, you never stop, do you?"
"Sir?" she asked.
He moved up to the register and put his basket on the counter for the clerk. "Working. Thinking. Come to my place. You ought to relax. This morning's throw-up incident is golden proof."
He thinks it's stress. Is this good or bad? "No sir," she said firmly. His confused and slightly hurt expression was a knife digging into her heart. "It's not that I don't want to, sir," she assured him as he handed a twenty to the clerk, "it's just –"
"Fine, whatever, Carter," he said, grabbing his bags and leaving the store.
Sam sighed and ran her hand through her hair again. She could just hear her mother say, THAT, my dear, was rejection. Go kick his ass. But she was too sore and stiff to be kicking anybody's ass, let alone his.
God, that hurt. She should've gone to his place with him, found time to excuse herself to use the bathroom, and done the test there. Two birds with one stone.
But what would she do with the stick? She couldn't throw it away there. He would find it, and he would know. Then he'd be pissed that she didn't find her discovery, the possibility that she was pregnant, important enough to share with him.
Or, he would think the worst, and think he wasn't important enough…
"Miss?" the elderly clerk asked politely.
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry?"
"Shall I ring those items up for you?" he said.
"Yes please." She handed him the basket.
He paused when he got to the pregnancy tests, buried beneath all the other items. His eyes flew to hers in understanding, but said nothing as he quietly went along, ringing up the rest of the items.
"Thirty-two forty," he announced. As she handed over two twenties, he leaned in and asked, "Listen, was that man harassing you? 'Cos I might be an old fart, but I still remember how to kick butt from the ole' Marine days."
Marine? She smiled, imagining a seventy-two year old Marine retiree taking on Jack O'Neill. "No, he wasn't," she said, "but that would be a sight to see. There's a group of Marines where we work and he can't stand them. Er, no offense."
"None taken," he assured. "What branch?" he asked.
"Sorry?"
"What branch? It's obvious you two were military, by your 'sir' and his 'Carter'. Him calling you Carter was the solid evidence, though. See, I figure, no one in their right mind calls a pretty woman by their boyish surname unless they're military."
Sam giggled. "Air Force," she said, somewhat shyly.
The man's eyes twinkled. "Ah, I knew a pretty Air Force girl once," he said, whistling low to prove his point. "Boy, she was something else."
"What happened?"
"I married her!" he laughed. "And we've got six kids, two of which are Air Force, two of which are Marines, and two of which who can't stand the military!"
Sam laughed, thanked him, and gathered her things. "See you later," she said, sincerely hoping she did.
She drove home and put the fruit and ice cream away, leaving all the rest in the bags but for the tests. Nervously, she took them to the bathroom, opened the box, and selected one, and brought it to the toilet.
Once she was sitting on the toiler with her pants around her ankles, she gave her fingers the job of removing the plastic from the stick. They were trembling, and she had a somewhat difficult time, but finally managed.
She sat, staring at the thing for a long time, before her nerves got the best of her. She thrust it in the general direction of the wastebasket, yanked her pants up, and waddled out to the kitchen.
Checking the clock, she found that it was 1900. She picked up the phone and dialed the SGC.
"…Hi, Janet? I sorta have a problem…yeah, please? Thank you. Yeah. Bye."
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"Alright, what's the problem?" the petite doctor asked when Sam opened the door to let her in.
"Come with me?" Sam said, going to the bathroom. Janet followed.
"Err, wait here," Sam said as she stepped into the bathroom, closing the door.
A moment later, she heard Janet knock. "Sam? Can I come in?"
She stood and put the test on the counter, pulling up her pants. "Yes."
The door opened slowly, and Janet appeared. "Hey, what's wrong?" the doctor asked softly. Sam took the test and handed it to her, not once looking at the result.
Janet took it and gasped. "Sam! This is a pregnancy test!"
"Yes," came Sam's dry sob. "I need you to tell me if it's positive or negative. Please."
Janet's warm hand squeezed her shoulder from behind. "Which do you want it to be?" she asked gently.
"I don't know!" Sam sobbed, tears coming. "A baby – wow! That – that would be the most amazing thing that's happened to me in a long, long time! But –"
"Yes?" Janet prompted.
"The father," she whispered.
"You know who it would be, right?" Janet asked, her voice filled with worry. "Pete?"
Pete! Sam's stomach rioted at the thought. But – oh god, it was possible! Could Pete be the father of her baby?
She couldn't imagine having a baby with Pete. His voice floated back to her…
He's too old for you! God, Sam, I thought you wanted a family and kids and…and a dog!
"Please, no," she whispered.
"What?" Janet's voice brought her back to reality.
"I broke up with Pete," Sam said. "Please, Janet, just tell me: am I pregnant? I – I just can't bring myself to find out myself."
The doctor hesitated. "No."
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Please don't hurt me! --hides from pelting, rotten fruitbehind rocking chair--