Monday, March 23, 2020
Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill gradually came to consciousness as something—or someone—shifted beside him. The long feminine sigh as two arms tightened their grip around his torso, the blond hair that tickled his nose, and that intoxicating scent of vanilla and manufactured oxygen brought a smile to his lips as he kissed the top of the blond's head.
She was home.
"Jack?" She was only half-awake, given how sleep laced the way she said his name. He loved it when she whispered it in her sleep.
"I'm awake."
She curled up next to him, entangling her frozen feet near his knees for the body heat. "Ship didn't get in until late. Hoped you wouldn't mind."
He chuckled as he wrapped both arms around her. "I don't know anyone who would complain about waking up to find a leggy blond in bed with them."
She snorted.
"Although, we should probably do something about those feet. Those icicles can't be healthy."
She snuggled closer to him, those toes curling against his shins. "It's the ship. I'm always freezing up there."
He glanced down at her as a teasing smile played on his lips. "You do know you control the thermostat up there, right?"
They'd gone at least ten rounds trying to figure out how to keep the Hammond in orbit. Unfortunately, Carter was right. Maintenance and upgrades for the Hammond were deemed not only necessary, but urgent. Hello, six (or more) weeks of coronacation for the crew of the Hammond. Sam had even tried to make the case to let her work on the ship, but due to the social distancing requirements, her request had been denied.
She offered a shuddering sigh in response, and he knew he'd lost her to the world of sleep again. Besides, her toes were starting to thaw against his legs. He kissed the top of her blond head as he settled back in to get some sleep. "Welcome home, Carter."
He'd been in his home office for an hour by the time she appeared in the doorway, the plate of pancakes he'd left for her downstairs in her hands. If only he wasn't on a video call with the President, Joint Chiefs, and Hank Landry.
Apparently, an issue had arisen with some of their trading partners who weren't able to wrap their minds around the idea of quarantine. Having the SGC unable and unwilling to send them the supplies they counted on had ruffled more than a few feathers. And without those supplies, they weren't willing to send naquadah, which in turn, meant that upgrades to ships like the Hammond would take longer, leaving Earth more vulnerable to attack than he was comfortable with.
It was a whole nightmare that he got to figure out in his house.
Fortunately, having Carter here with him was going to be more of a pleasure than a burden. Especially given how she looked in his oversized Air Force t-shirt that had slipped off one shoulder, her bare, manicured toes poking out from under the yoga pants she liked to sleep in, and her long golden hair splayed out over her shoulders.
Scratch that. This was going to be harder than he thought.
She pointed at the plate with that bright smile of hers. Thank you.
He winked at her as she stepped out of the doorway and let him get back to his meeting.
If she thought that was the end of the surprises, just wait until she saw what was being delivered this afternoon.
"Jack? What do you think?"
Damn. He hadn't been paying attention. At least he wasn't in a stupid time loop, destined to relive the question umpteen times before he could ask the clarifying question.
"I'm sorry, Mr. President. What was the question again?"
Landry's bushy eyebrows shot up. "House guest in quarantine, Jack? I should report you to Carolyn."
He could hear Sam's snicker as she tiptoed back down the stairs to the kitchen.
Jack cleared his throat, knowing that the former CDC doctor would have a few words to say until she realized who he had in the other room and why she'd only just arrived. "So, moving away from my personal life, what were you saying before I got distracted?"
The other men on the call chuckled. "We were talking about the best way to help our off-world trading partners without risking exposure to the contagion."
Jack nodded. "Got it. Well, we could always quarantine the supplies and then send them through on a MALP."
His thoughts wandered back to the blond astrophysicist undoubtedly licking maple syrup off her fingers in his kitchen. Working from home was going to get a little more complicated...and a lot more fun, too.
The text message alert distracted him from his paperwork, bringing a smile to his lips. It was here.
"Uh, Jack? Did you order something? Like the internet?" Her voice reverberated off the hardwood and up the stairs, clear as a bell as she opened the front door.
He grinned as he hurried down the stairs. Right on time.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him as she maneuvered a box about two-thirds her size into the Georgetown townhouse. "Seriously, Jack, what is this?"
"Just a little welcome home present."
She stared at the box. "Little?"
He tried to stifle his pride as he shrugged. He lifted the box into the living room while she grabbed the kitchen scissors. "All right, Carter, open the box. Whatcha got?"
She blinked at him. "You're not kidding."
He stood on the bottom step. "Nope."
She put her hands on her hips. "Jack, there's a reason that there are shelter-in-place orders popping up all over the country. All non-essential things are supposed to be on hold, and you get me a damn present? What could you possibly have gotten for me that could fit in this box and be worth risking your—"
Her lips fell open as realization dawned. "Jack, you didn't."
He chuckled, tempted to record this moment on his smartphone and share it with the rest of SG-1. On the one hand, why would he share this perfect moment with the rest of the world? On the other, why ruin a perfectly good surprise with that tirade about how he was risking his life just letting something from the outside world into his house? "Why don't you open it and find out?"
Though she was meticulous in removing the packaging, Jack could see how she trembled in excitement. She reached for the hard, black plastic case, taking a deep breath before she unlatched the hook and caressed the smooth wooden curves of the instrument.
"Oh, Jack."
There were tears in her eyes as she glanced back at him.
He sat on the couch beside her, his hands on her shoulders. "You like it?"
She pulled his face closer to hers and kissed him, a lingering, gentle kiss that still sometimes made him feel like he was dreaming. "I love it. I love you."
He wrapped his arms around her as she turned her attention back to the pristine cello. "I ordered it the day Area 51 told you they'd handle the Hammond upgrades without you. Figured I couldn't have you going nuts on me."
"Jack, it's perfect. You spoil me."
"Just glad I get to spoil you."
She locked eyes with him, and he knew she knew what he meant. It wasn't just that after almost a decade of living within the bounds of their professional relationship, they were finally free to express their affection for one another. It was that she'd come back with the ship. He hadn't gotten one of those awful reports like he'd gotten when the Prometheus and Korolev had been destroyed and Carter had watched, untethered in space.
He was always on the lookout for one of those reports. Some indication that she wasn't coming home. Some proof that this life, and this love that he'd found, was too good to be true.
She patted his knee. They didn't talk about that side of things. Couldn't. It just would have made things worse.
"I ordered some music books and things. They should be coming in the next couple of days."
She chuckled. "You might regret that. I'm still just a beginner."
He kissed the top of her head as he got up and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. "Yes, well, you can do anything you set your mind to. You've proven that time and time again."
"Anything but knit, apparently."
He waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, well, nobody's perfect."
She didn't look up from her new toy, just ran her fingers over the strings, the wood, and the fingerboard as she smiled.
"You know, you would have saved me a lot of grief if you'd just told me you wanted to learn how to play the cello back when you were ordered to take a break because you were seeing things that weren't there."
She didn't even miss a beat. "Wasn't seeing things that weren't there."
He walked back into the living room. "Yes, well, semantics. Either way, you're the reason I have six skeins of yarn and a box of knitting needles under my bed."
Her brow furrowed before she looked up at him, a bemused smile playing on her pink lips. "You have a box of knitting needles under your bed?"
He winked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Though she shook her head and chuckled, he could see she grew serious as she turned away from the cello and toward him. "Jack. . ."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
She sighed. "You didn't mention that you're in the at-risk group for this virus."
He took a sip of his water. He'd been expecting this from the moment she'd torn into him about how reckless his purchase had been. "This would be why I'm working from home, Sam. Besides, I don't live in an assisted living facility—I'm not that much older than you—and I'm in good health. And if I'm going to retire any time soon, I'm living in a little cabin in Minnesota that's a mile away from the nearest person."
Sam's eyes clouded in question before he realized what she might have inferred from his words. "Besides you, Carter."
She picked at her cuticle, apparently still unsatisfied with his answer. "Do you really want to argue about this? Because the more I'm studying this virus, the more sure I am that it looks like the Ancient plague. You know, the one that wiped them out? The one that had you needing a symbiote?"
He groaned. He was going to regret owning a television or having an internet connection, wasn't he? "First off, Carter, this isn't killing anyone in nearly the same numbers, you can ask Daniel and Rodney. Second, Carolyn Lam is liaising with her contacts at the CDC to see if there's anything she can do to help. So far, this virus is unlike anything we've seen before. Our people included."
Sam released the tension in her shoulders as she pressed her hands in steeple formation against her forehead. "I don't know whether to be relieved or frightened at that thought."
Jack hesitated a moment before he sat beside her on the floor.
Sam tried to push him away. "No, Jack. Your knee."
As if on cue, his knee cracked in protest. Well, so did a few other parts of his body, namely his back and hips. He threw a sardonic smile in her direction. "You could have mentioned that sooner. At this point, the damage is already done."
Despite the gravity of her fears, she chuckled.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she leaned into him for support. He leaned his cheek on the top of her head as he held her, grateful she was here having this freakout and not on some video call in orbit. "I'm fine, Carter. Healthy as a horse."
"Your cholesterol's too high, and you work at the Pentagon. You're a heart attack waiting to happen on a normal day. That's not even touching your risks at contracting COVID-19."
He stopped himself from responding that she was the commander of a ship that got shot at by the Lucian Alliance. Though the specifics were a little different, such as the name of the ship, the enemy she fought, and which galaxy she lived in, Jack had read this report before. In that alternate timeline, Sam hadn't come back from commanding a ship.
Of course, Jack hadn't needed the report to know to worry.
He guided her chin so that she would have to look into his eyes. "What do you need from me?"
The protective shell Sam wore when she worried cracked under his question. "I know the economy's hurting, but I'm going to cook."
He raised an eyebrow. "Awfully traditional gender roles for a woman who once looked at her three male colleagues and asked why they were all looking at her when there was a woman in labor."
She shrugged, and he could see in her eyes she refused to be pulled down memory lane. "I don't have any problem with traditional gender roles as long as there's a reason. You're still working a full-time job. I'm on leave. Besides, you'd make beer-drenched steak every day, and I'm inclined to throw a salad your direction."
He kissed her temple. "So, you're going to cook. Anything else you need?"
She hesitated. "If anyone has to go out for groceries or some other essential thing, I want it to be me."
He groaned. "Carter. . ."
"And I want to make sure we're being smart about how we do this."
Jack sighed. "Carter, the whole point of this contactless delivery stuff is that a) we are able to employ people who might otherwise get furloughed or fired, and b) we minimize exposure. Neither of us has to go out. If you want to set up some sort of quarantine in the house before we get to our groceries or packages, go ahead."
She swallowed as she pressed her back against his chest and wrapped his arms loosely around her neck. She didn't let go of his hands even as she stared at the unwrapped cello, yet untouched. "I was so wrapped up in how nice it would be to have no responsibilities pulling us apart that I forgot until I saw the news why I'm here with you. I know it's not fair for me to worry like this when I have the job I do, but I can't help it, Jack. I do. I worry that you're going to have a heart attack, and that the only way anyone tells me is when I ask where you are in the middle of a maneuver. In another galaxy. On duty. In front of people who need me to be clear-headed and decisive."
That sounded like a special kind of torture. And a little too familiar to his liking. After all, in his own nightmares, he would learn about her death in front of his own subordinates, as well.
He didn't go there. "You want to start an exercise program or something while you're here?"
She kissed the inside of his palm as she looked up at him, unshed tears in her blue eyes. With the exception of her longer hair and her casual outfit, now a pair of dark wash jeans and a button-down top, she looked as vulnerable and open as she had when Jacob had died.
"I love you, Sam. I'd do anything to help you feel safe."
She turned in his embrace so she could kiss him, one hand on his cheek. "I know that, and I appreciate it. I guess, when I think of how many years we wasted, how much time we're still apart, I just want to squeeze every precious moment out of the time we have together."
He clasped one of her hands in his. "That's precisely why I bought the cello, Sam. Not so you'd be afraid about what microbes we brought in with it. Not even so you'd have something to do."
Her eyebrows jumped at that last statement.
"Well, not entirely so you'd have something to do."
She chuckled at the addendum.
"I bought it because when I first told you about quarantine, you said you'd finally have time to play the cello like you've always wanted. I figured, why put off a perfectly good dream?"
"You're a good man, you know that?"
He shrugged, modestly. "Yes, well. . ."
She tugged on his hand as she got to her feet. Though he was a little slower about it, he followed her lead. She snaked her arms around his neck as she leaned in for a kiss. Before her lips connected with his, however, she caught hold of his eye. "You don't have any more meetings scheduled for today, do you, General?"
"No."
A coy smile played on her lips as she kissed him. "It's just that you asked if I wanted us to exercise more. I think it's a great idea."
He swallowed hard. If he was following her train of thought correctly, it was going to get a helluva lot harder to concentrate in his home office, wasn't it? "I should really finish my paperwork. I'm an Air Force general with enormous responsibilities."
A teasing smile played on her lips as she pulled away. "Oh. Well, if you'd rather work. . ."
She walked around the cello and toward the stairs, and he was sure that she'd added a deliberate sway in her hips to better tempt him. With his long legs and determination, it took him less than half the steps she'd taken to catch up with her. "Didn't say I couldn't be persuaded to take a meeting with the commander of the U.S.S. Hammond."
She stopped on the stairs, crossing her arms over her chest as she pondered the idea. "I think I can find time in my schedule for the Head of Homeworld Security. I mean, it will take some doing, but I think I can manage."
"Oh, you can manage now, huh?"
She grinned and leaned in so her lips were a fraction of an inch from his ear. "Race ya."
He watched her go, having way more fun watching her six in this moment than he'd ever had out in the field. So what if Carter was a little worried he wouldn't make it through this virus outbreak? Given the special torture only she could give him, he wasn't sure he'd make it through unscathed either. Oh, but what a way to go!
