Thank you all for the continued lovely reviews! I'm going to keep posting this story every day, but will update my other two stories on the weekend. Stay well.
After that day, the aliens would wheel Jack outside every afternoon to sit on the platform in the sun. They would set up the healing machine, smile and leave the two humans to spend their afternoons together. Sam would sit with him, chatting and talking about all sorts of subjects, although they never spoke about them. They had an unspoken agreement not to refer to what had happened fifteen years before.
But everything else was open for discussion and debate. They talked about their teammates, about Cassie and her family and about the many people they had known over the years. They reminisced about General Hammond, about Janet and Sam's father. They shared tears and laughter as they discussed their lives – which had paralleled each other's but had only come together for a brief time.
"And every time he called me "human" I wanted to stick my tongue out at him!" Jack said, remembering Bratak.
"Really?" she laughed. "I didn't catch that - although it was kind of funny."
"How come none of the rest of you got called human?" Jack frowned. He hadn't really thought about it before.
"I don't know, although I'm sure it was a sign of affection."
Jack made a rude noise. "Right! He thought we were all hopeless, and I was the worst of the lot."
"No he didn't! He – liked us – he just thought we were rather childish!"
"But then the Asgard thought you were the most stupid of us – I mean – the most smart stupid of us."
"I must admit that was one of the few times in my life when I was called stupid!"
"I bet," he agreed. "But you succeeded." He then frowned again. "Although you destroyed the O'Neill! You destroyed a really cool, fast ship named after me!" he whined.
"But it saved an entire civilization!"
"Yeah – which then went out and committed mass suicide."
That killed the conversation for a while, as the two humans thought back to their Asgard friends. "I wish they hadn't done it," Jack said softly. "Thor was one of the few aliens I liked."
"I know. He was sweet."
"Sweet? Carter – he was one of the most brilliant guys in the galaxy – besides having a kick-ass fleet of ships. He was not sweet."
"Well I think he was," she said. "I wish we could have found a way to help them. It's such a shame that they're all gone."
"Yeah. Seems like most of our allies are gone. The Asgard, the Ancients (who I really didn't like, anyway), the Nox – who never call, never write! And the Tokr'a seemed to disappear after your Dad was gone."
"There weren't that many of them left," Sam pointed out. "With the Goa'uld pretty much destroyed, I guess they figured they didn't have anything left to do. It must have been hard for them. They'd spent centuries fighting the Goa'uld. Their whole lives revolved around that."
"And then we come along and in ten years kicked the Goa'uld's butts. You know, other than your Dad and Selmak, I really didn't like the Tokr'a either. They were an arrogant bunch."
"Martouf was nice."
"I guess," he muttered, shrugging. She wanted to laugh – he'd told her that he had been jealous of Martouf, because of his relationship with Jolinar.
Suddenly Sam didn't want to laugh anymore – remembering back to the confessions each of them had made to each other, after they'd started dating. He'd admitted to jealousy of the various aliens who had liked Sam. The sudden memory of their time together saddened her.
"Then there are the Furlings," Jack said, seeming not to notice her sudden change in mood.
"The Furlings? We've never met them," she answered, pulling herself back to the present.
"That's what I mean. We kept hearing about them – or at least that they were part of the four great races: the Nox, the Asgard, the Ancients – and the Furlings. How come we never met them, or heard anything about them?"
"I don't know," she frowned. "Now that you mention it – why didn't we ask the Asgard or Nox who they were?"
"I don't know – maybe we had a few other things on our minds at the time. I wonder if they're furry?" he asked, thinking about it. "They need to be furry," he said.
She chuckled at that. "Maybe they're like the Ewoks in Star Wars?"
"Too cute. More like a Wookie, I think."
"I wonder what happened to them?"
"They're probably off on some tropical planet somewhere, happy to be done with the rest of the universe."
"Not tropical," she shook her head.
"Why not?" he scowled at her. He liked the idea of a tropical planet.
"Well, if they're furry it would be too hot. I expect they live on an ice planet."
"No – no way. I've had enough ice planets for a lifetime. I don't want to think of another ice planet!"
That immediately made her think of exactly that. She thought about Antarctica – the place she'd first seen the – then Colonel – in a different light. She remembered his sadness about his wife, his refusal to give up hope of getting home, his forcing her to leave him to save herself. She had respected him before that, but after that mission the respect had moved to admiration.
Then there was the planet where their memories had been erased. She thought about the horrible conditions – and how much she had felt cared for by Jonah/Jack. It had been a strange experience, and regaining her memory had been painful when she'd realized she couldn't love the Colonel.
And finally there had been Antarctica again. The Colonel had gotten sick and the result had been his accepting a symbiote and getting taken and tortured by Ba'al. That had been a truly terrible time, and she thought they'd lost him.
So – he was right. Ice planets weren't a good memory.
"Okay – so tropical planet it is," she said softly, garnering a swift look from O'Neill, although he didn't say anything.
Sam grew quiet, looking off into the distance over the water. Jack too became silent, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the sound of the waves. She glanced at him, to see him with a somber look on his face. She wondered if he, too, was thinking about the years gone by.
"Is it just about lunch time," he asked suddenly. "I could really go for some of those purple things!"
"I prefer the green," she said, relieved at the change in conversation. She had felt too heavy, for a moment there. "Green is healthier."
"How do you know that?" he asked her. "Maybe here purple is healthier. For all you know, the green food is junk food!"
"I don't think there is such a thing here. I have a feeling it's all healthy."
"And delicious," he said. "But I could still use some junk food."
"And beer?"
"Yes, that would be amazing. And a TV. A TV would be nice."
They sat again in silence. Sam thought about all the things back home that they didn't have here. She knew she should be missing them, but in reality, she hadn't been so happy in a long time. She wasn't bored, or lonely – and she didn't miss anything or anyone – not yet. She simply relished being with Jack once more.
"I'm gonna go for a walk," he announced suddenly, pushing himself to his feet.
"Uh – the natives are going to throw a fit," she told him.
"I don't care. I've been lying or sitting on my butt for weeks. I need exercise!"
She didn't try and dissuade him, acknowledging that he'd been pretty good about taking it easy. If it had been her, she didn't know whether she would have been as patient. She stood up. "Need some help?"
"I think I've got it," he told her, as he took a deep breath and then stretched. "I feel pretty good," he told her.
"You're looking amazing," she replied, regarding him closely. It was true – he was completely changed from the man of a few weeks ago. He looked remarkably good. His skin was healthy looking and lightly bronzed from sitting outside every day. Any visible paralysis from the stroke was gone, although he still had a slight limp – which was improving day by day. He looked like the lean, attractive man she had met years before, even if his hair was still gray.
She frowned slightly. Hadn't it been white before? She suddenly couldn't remember – although she wanted to giggle at the fact that it still wouldn't stay down.
"What are you giggling at Sam?" he frowned.
She shrugged. "Nothing. Just happy I suppose. Shall we walk down to the beach?"
He regarded her in surprise. He hadn't yet ventured that far, and had assumed she'd argue with him. Instead he smiled. "I'd love to."
He was still a tiny bit shaky, although he managed to make it down the stairs and to the path with little difficulty. She stayed close by him, in case he grew weak or dizzy. She wanted to smile again, as she regarded his clothing. Much to his disgust, the aliens had presented him with a robe, similar to her own. He looked rather – regal – in it, although he'd turned up his nose when it was first presented to him.
"I have to wear this?" he'd asked.
"I'm wearing one," she pointed out.
"Yes, but it looks good on you, Carter. It's going to look really silly on me."
"It won't," she assured him. "The aliens wear them and they look fine. And it's really comfortable, Sir. I think you'll like it."
He'd given her a disgusted look, but he didn't have a choice – unless he wanted to continue to wear the handkerchief around her waist.
"How long do you think we're gonna be here?" he asked suddenly.
"I don't know. I wondered about that myself. I'd like to ask the aliens but …"
"Yeah – but. Maybe we should start looking for a Gate?" he suggested. "We can't stay here forever."
She knew that he was right. They should see if there was a Gate – or another way to get home. But she didn't want that. She wanted to stay here, with him.
She knew that wasn't reasonable, and that after a while they would get bored, with nothing to do. But she was happier than she had been in years – since she'd given back his ring, she admitted to herself. She just wished she could roll back time.
"Any ideas?" she asked, finally. She wouldn't look at him, afraid she might start to cry. That thought made her angry, at herself. She was a damned General, so why the hell should the thought of going home make her cry.
He didn't say anything, so finally she looked up at him. He was walking slowly, but steadily towards the beach. He had a pensive look on his face and seemed to have forgotten the conversation, or even that she was here. She decided not to push it, but she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. A moment later she found out.
"Maybe we should wait," he said.
"Wait?" her forehead crinkled in confusion.
"To look for the Gate. I mean, I'm still recuperating."
"You are," she nodded, feeling a huge sense of relief – which wasn't good, but right now she didn't care.
"And I'm sure you need the rest. You work too hard."
"Well, the rest is nice – although I don't think I work too hard. Any anyway – how would you know?"
He paused and then glanced down at her quickly, and then back towards he water. "I have my sources," he told her. "They tell me you spend long days and weeks at the SGC without taking a break."
This time she was silent, but then she sighed. "Well, I don't really have anything waiting for me at home," she admitted "If Cassie was still in Colorado Springs I'd probably spend more time with her."
"And you – don't have anyone else?" he asked carefully.
"No," she answered shortly. A few heartbeats and she asked. "What about you, Sir?"
"Me?" he said, looking at her in surprise. "God no," he said. He then laughed, although with little humor. "Who would want a fat, old, worn out General, with bad knees and too many scars to count?"
She swallowed, because if she hadn't she would have blurted out the truth. She wanted him – desperately. "You're not fat and you're certainly not old or worn out, Jack," she told him. "In fact, you're looking great."
He snorted but kept walking. This was the closest they'd come to any sort of conversation about them since he'd asked why she was here. "Thank you," he said, finally. "Either this planet or that doohickey that hangs over me has helped, that's for sure." He suddenly grinned. "It's also a great way to lose weight. We could make a fortune on it."
She chuckled in response. "True – although I don't really want a fortune."
"No," he stopped abruptly and turned towards her. "What do you want, Carter? If you could have whatever you wanted, right here, right now, what would it be?"
She stared at him, blinking slowly. A thought flew into her mind – telling her to say something light and silly. Instead she told him the truth.
"To go back fifteen years and tell myself not to be an idiot," she said softly. She kept her eyes on his face, but when he didn't answer she sighed and turned and started walking slowly towards the beach. The tears were running down her face, and she didn't want him to see. She carefully wiped her cheeks with her arm, but kept on moving.
She was pretty sure she'd just messed everything up.