Disclaimer:

Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'C, George Hammond, Jacob Carter and any other recognizable character, part of script or plot of Stargate SG1 belong to MGM Studios, Amazon, and Brad Wright.

In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economical/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested.

No copyright infringement intended.

Original characters are property of the author.

Italics means flashback.


Crossroads

Chapter 1: The First Crossroads


Samantha Carter is exhausted. Not the 'I've been working in my lab and forgot to check what time it is' exhausted, but the kind that makes her bones ache and her mind flitter about with no concrete thought to settle on. The kind of tiredness were she can't help but drag her boots against the pavement as she makes her way towards her front door, fumbling with the key in suddenly uncoordinated fingers. She's already envisioning taking off her coat then slugging towards her sofa where she hopes to pass out for a considerable amount of time. She knows she should stop and eat something but right now, all she wants is to rest.

She's absolutely, thoroughly, completely exhausted.

It surprises her more that she's willing to admit. Pulling long hours isn't anything new for her, after all she had fought the Goa'uld for years, saved the world countless times, blew up a sun, rewrote physics more times than she should have, supervised the study of alien technology, and designed battleships. Long hours and working well through the night was a second nature to her. Yet in none of those times has she been as exhausted as she is right now.

Perhaps it is that despite the long hours in each post, her body has simply platoiad and got used to not being involved in physical fighting. She is physically fit, has always been, but there is a difference between hitting the gym daily and running for your life in a faraway planet while someone is shooting -or blasting- at you. Yes, that's what it is, her body simply has to get used to being on the battlefield again, this time as they fight the Ori. She can't think of the other thing that might be making her this tired, not right now.

She fumbles once more with the keys as her boots hit the wooden steps that lead up to the house's deck. It's late and she can't quite see the keys in her hands to choose the right one. Groaning under her breath, Sam walks up to the side of the door and uses the light coming through the window to see the keys. She's about to push the key into the keyhole when she freezes.

Light. Light inside of her house.

She doesn't remember leaving the light on when she left the previous morning. In fact, she distinctly remembers flicking off the switch seconds before closing the door behind her. The light is on though. That can only mean someone is inside.

All traces of exhaustion leave her body as adrenaline rushes through her veins. She swiftly puts down her bag, the sound of the zipper opening coming before it's contents have even had a chance to settle on the ground, and digs through it to find her service weapon. Nimble fingers instinctually load the weapon, her arm rising to bring up the gun to eye level, her finger laying straight over the side of the trigger as her other hand reaches for the handle.

It's unlocked. The realization makes her run cold. She definitively didn't leave house unlocked when she left.

Slowly, she pushes the door open. The room before her is bathed with light, the dinning table standing proudly in the center with boxes upon boxes piled to the sides where they wait for her to comb thru and put things were they belong. She takes a step inside and turns quickly to the left, gun pointed and steadied by both of her hands. Sam faces the living room, her eyes quickly sweeping over the sunken space without going down the steps. It's empty except for some boxes she'd been going through days before. She turns to the right, knowing she needs to clear both sides of the room before stepping further in, but she only sees a darkened hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

The sound of something falling makes her snap once more towards the dinning room but seeing as it is still empty she knows that whomever is in her house must be in the kitchen.

Sam wills her heart to settle its pounding against her rib cage. She knows that if she has to shoot, having a steady hand and a clear mind will serve her far more than letting the panic of someone invading her space wash over her. She takes a couple of measured steps towards the entrance of the kitchen, pushing herself into an angle by the door frame to be able to cover all sides of the room.

"Freeze! Hands up!" She commands as soon as she sees the intruder, not taking a second to let herself study the man.

Hands quickly rise up, one of them holding a sauce smeared spatula, the other holding a beer. The intruder doesn't freeze in place though, instead, he turns slowly to look at her, a well-known smirk on his lips.

"It says kiss the chef, not kill the chef."

His grave voice instantly washes over her, making her slump slightly as she lowers the gun. "Sir."

Jack O'Neill is standing in her kitchen obviously in the middle of cooking a late dinner. Secured around his waist and neck, he wears an apron that Sam knows had been a gift from Daniel. Beneath that is a blue shirt that is definitively a size too big and khaki slacks that are somehow loose on the legs but still tight enough around his bottoms.

"Auck, Carter!" He waves the spatula slightly, as if he had been waiving a finger at her in protest to her use of the honorific.

"Sorry," she mumbles. Her cheeks flare as he smiles at her and lowers his spatula, his beer bottle rising to his lips to take a sip. "Jack, what are you doing here?"

He smiles around the edge of the bottle as he hears her say his name then turns halfway towards the stove to check on whatever he is cooking. "Heard Mitchell's been dragging you all over the galaxy after convincing you to join SG1 and that you were scheduled to return from a mission tonight." He explains. "Knew you'd be tired, probably falling back to bad habits. Thought I'd welcome you home with a cooked meal."

Home.

Once upon a time that word had meant a house where she hardly spent time at, a place to sleep and recuperate when luck hadn't been on her side and Janet had banned her from the base, and somewhere to hide when the pain of loss and years of combat got to be too much for her. Now it was something completely different.

"So you came all the way from DC to cook me a meal? That seems excessive, General." Sam asks teasingly as she approaches him. Her gaze quickly falls to the pot in front of them. She can't help the grin that comes forth as she notices what he's preparing. Macaroni and Cheese. The kind that doesn't taste like chicken. Something warm and delicious and simple, just like Jack.

"Never for you Sam, never for you."

Unable to stop herself, Sam wraps an arm around his waist, hooking her finger on the belt loop on his pants. She molds her body to his and hums softly. Jack replies by placing his beer on the counter then raising an arm over her head and settling it on her shoulders, pulling her closer. He presses a kiss to the top of her head before using the spatula to move the cheesy noodles around.

Tilting her head back, she lets her gaze wander over his face appreciatively. He's as handsome now as he had been back when they were both on SG1 and she wasn't allowed to be this close to him. Sure, Washington had brought some lines to his face, and more grey in his hair, but he was still the handsome man she had fallen in love with.

Sensing her gaze, Jack turns to look at her with that devilish smirk of his. "Thank you." She whispers before going on tip toes to press a kiss to his lips.

The kiss is as chaste as any kiss can be and a far cry from the passionate kisses they are known to lose themselves in, but it still manages to steal the very breath from her lungs. Sam smiles against his lips before pulling back. She laughs as he chases her lips with his own, asking for another kiss, not quite ready to let her go. It doesn't take much chase before she presses another kiss to his lips, this time a little deeper.

As if her body has suddenly realized that she isn't in danger and the initial wave of adrenaline has run its course, the bone aching tiredness she had been feeling suddenly slams back into her. She grunts softly as she breaks the kiss and buries her face against his chest.

"You are exhausted." Jack mumbles against her hair.

"Hmm fine." Sam mumbles, not quite willing to leave his warm embrace. Her body feels heavy though and she knows he can feel it too as she leans further against him.

"Go lay on the couch. I'll take a plate when it's ready." He promises.

Sam gives a little groan of disdain but the weight of her gun reminds her of the pack she's left outside and the fact that the door is open. She pulls herself away reluctantly. If the front door hadn't been open she would have forgone the couch and simply stayed at his side. She knows Jack wouldn't have minded.

"I'll wait for you at the couch, flyboy." She mumbles before leaving the kitchen.

The chuckle that echoes from the kitchen brings a grin to her lips. She loves hearing the sound almost as much as she loves the feel of his lips against hers.

Putting back the safety lock on her gun, Sam approaches the door and quickly grabs her bag. Closing the door behind her, she walks to the dinning room and deposits the bag on the nearest chair. She'll take care of it later, once she's had a full belly and a few hours of sleep. Ignoring the boxes that are practically screaming at her to look through, she shuffles over to the hidden gun safe where she locks her gun, then to the bowl where she usually drops her keys before moving down the steps into the sunken living room and towards the couch.

She flops back against the couch after taking off her jacket, her tired limbs feeling like heavy lead appendages that she has to haul up. Feeling more exhausted by the second, Sam reaches for the blanket stern haphazardly over the back of the couch and drapes it over body. Jack must have caught a nap before her arrival because it smells like his cologne.

The sounds coming from the kitchen lull her. She closes her eyes and relaxes, unable to stop the thought that this is as domestic as they've ever been allowed to be. It's different but she loves it, especially with the way they'd had to fight to be even allowed to be together.

Not so long ago, all of this would have been impossible. Military's rules and regulations had kept them apart for eight long years. It had taken the downright panic for the wedding and the realization that she wasn't happy with Pete and the life he offered for her, to understand that she couldn't be away from Jack anymore.

When she had seen him with Terry, it had been as if someone had taken her service knife and pushed it through her heart. She had thought she had lost her chance, she'd come to her senses too late and had lost him. She had been ready to retreat and lick her wounds when her father's health had taken a turn to the worse. After his death, everything seemed inconsequential and unimportant, especially the rules and regulations. She hadn't wanted to be held back by them, not when she was miserable with her life to the point that even her father had given her a little push to help her find her happiness. Sam needed to find a way for them to be together, for their feelings and everything they had left unsaid to be pulled out of the room they had locked it in. If Jack still wanted it, that is.

Always. That's what he had said.

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

Always.

That's why after her father's funeral, both the human and the Tok'ra ceremonies, Sam had once again found herself outside his home. This time there was no smoke coming from the back, just light filtering through the window. She could still remember the surge of adrenaline and nerves as she waited outside of his door, hand poised to knock. So many questions and worries seemed to rush through her mind, one after the other, not letting her decide whether to knock or not. What if it really was too late? What if what he had with Terry was too good to let go of? What if what he'd felt all those years ago had vanished, locked away in a dusty and forgotten room never to be seen again? What if she had misunderstood his feelings all those years ago? What if? What if?

What if his always had been meant as only a friend?

She'd pulled her hand back as if burned. She couldn't do this. All of the bravado that had brought her to his doorstep had rushed away from her. She quickly took a step back, then another before turning and rushing down the steps that led to his home. She couldn't do this.

But what if he had meant he'd always be there because he loved her? What if she was straight with him and she gained everything she had ever wanted? Everything she'd ever ached for?

In the end, Jack had taken the decision from her.

"Carter?"

The voice behind her makes her turn instantly. Her body reacts to the military training that has served her well all of her career. She's been trained to turn in attention whenever her CO calls her and this time it is no different. Except she wants it to be.

"Sir."

She winces inwardly. This is already not going the way she wishes it to go.

"Saw you fluttering about outside." Jack gives a wave of his hand in the general direction she'd just been occupying. Of course he would have known she was outside, he is a black ops trained soldier after all. A blush settles on her cheeks which she hopes the dark of the night hides before she makes a fool of herself. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine." She replies without a second thought. That's another trained response, though this time she knows it has nothing to do with the military and everything to do with her own rules of independence.

Jack fidgets in his place, his eyes sweeping through her in a way that she instantly recognizes. He's assessing her, noticing every little thing about her stand, about her presence, in order to see if she truly is fine. He'll be able to see right through her carefully constructed façade so she might as well admit she's not fine. "Actually, Jack, no. I'm not okay."

He instantly softens at the sound of his name. Gone is the soldier and in his place is the man she's grown to love, the man who has stood by her side through the death of her father, an arm wrapped around her, anchoring her to reality. Perhaps others wouldn't be able to tell, but she does. Worry enters his eyes, a couple of lines appear on his forehead and he takes a step forward.

"Can we... Can we talk?" She stutters.

She knows he doesn't like to talk about feelings. He is a military man, trained to conceal his emotions in order to see a mission through. Normally it doesn't bother her, but tonight is not normal and she needs him to listen to what she has to say and to share what he feels and thinks.

"You sure, you betcha." He takes a couple of steps closer to her until he reaches the edge of his front door steps then sits. He points at the spot besides him, silently urging her to sit with him.

Sam bites her lower lip. The soldier part in her instantly tells her it's a bad idea. It's forbidden. If anyone from the base happens to drive by and sees them it could mean trouble. She tells herself she could sit a couple of steps down, put more space between them, but the other side of her instantly rebels against it. She wants to sit at his side, to press the side of her body to his, to share space as much as they can in the semi public spot. She ends up fighting against her first instinct and crossing the distance to sit at his side.

Silence settles between them. It's not awkward but it is charged with emotions and unspoken words. She's trying to find a way to tell him everything she feels, everything she's had to ignore and hide in a room, every mistake she's done with her personal life, but she doesn't seem to be able to find the words. She knows that if she opens her mouth everything will come rolling out and nothing will make sense. He deserves better. They deserve better.

Jack gently bumps her shoulder with his, urging her to speak. "Words gotta come out of your mouth if we are going to speak, Sam."

"I just... I don't know how to start. Where to start."

This time he bumps his knee with hers. Somehow she knows that he wants her to look at him so she turns her head towards him slightly, her blue eyes searching his semi-obscured face.

"The start is usually a good place."

If it were any other moment, any other situation, she would have grinned at his silly antics. Right now, though, she can barely contain her nerves much less smile. "I just... I just don't know where the start is."

When had she started loving Jack O'Neill?

She wants to believe that it had started when they'd been unknowingly stranded in Antartica. Laying besides him, thinking they were about to die and there was nothing she could do about it, Sam had admitted to herself that at least she was dying besides the man who made her heart thunder and her mind race. She'd felt a touch of sadness when he'd called her 'Sara' but she'd pretended to be his ex-wife so that he'd pass as calmly as he could. She couldn't save Jack but at least she could give him a moment with the woman he seemed to still care about.

But that wasn't it and she knew it.

She'd always thought that when the Brocca Virus had affected her there had been an underlying cause to her choosing Jack as a mate. It had all been explained away as her seeing him as the alpha male and thus seeing him as the only one worthy of procreating with. Afterwards she had remained quiet as Janet explained everything though secretly she had continued pondering why she had gone to him, wanting to know if it was a byproduct of what she had thought was hero worship.

It wasn't. She knows that now. Even then she had felt something strong for him. It had floored her and left her confused so she had hidden it away deep inside. Never to be mentioned. Forbidden.

Yet even the virus was not the first time she had felt something. The butterflies and nerves had been present before she'd gone Neanderthal and propositioned him in the middle of the locker rooms.

She's never admitted it to herself but now it hits her like a run away locomotive straight to the chest.

"Oh god." She mumbles under her breath as she buries her face in her hands. She knows she's blushing because she can feel the tip of her ears burning which only makes her lean forward until the back of her hands touch her knees, curling into herself and hiding.

"What? What is it?" She hears Jack ask, his voice full of confusion and worry.

"It's... it's such a... a cliché." She groans into her hands. She knows how much he hates cliches.

"You know how I feel about those."

"I know!" She groans once again but pulls back, her head tilting up to hide the roll her eyes make. "A subordinate feeling things she shouldn't feel for her CO from the moment they met. It's the worst of military cliches and yet, here I am."

Her shoulders slump in defeat. If they are going to be talking about it, truly talk about everything they'd left in the room, she might as well admit that she'd been attracted to him from the start.

"Is that why you offered to arm wrestle?"

This time she does smile, unable to stop herself. She swings her knee against his to get him to stop teasing her. No sooner have they sobered up that the nerves she had been feeling come right back, leaving her silent and hesitant.

"My dad talked to me before he passed." She finally admits in a much more subdued tone of voice. It still hurts to think about her dad. She misses him terribly, feels like there's a part of her that is now empty and aching for one more chance to wrap her arms around him. "He... he said he was proud of me, of everything I had done even though it was nothing like what I had originally planned to do."

"He was proud of you, Sam." Jack promises. "Never doubt that."

Sam gives a tiny nod, almost imperceptible in the darkness around them but she knows he sees it because he replies with a nod of his own. "He said something else though."

"What was that?"

She takes a deep breath because she knows her next words will either be the start of what she's always wanted and could never have or the beginning of the end. "He said I shouldn't let rules get in the way of what I truly want."

"What you truly want?" Jack repeats her words under his breath. "And that is..?"

"You." The word tumbles out of her lips before she's even able to think about it. The truth rolls easily off her tongue after being held back for so long. Why had it been so easy to say now and why hadn't she admitted it before?

The silence stretches between them, her heart hammers in her chest as she feels him fidget besides her. She can't help but bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from saying anything else. She needs a sign from him, something, anything that could reassure her that she hasn't misunderstood his promise to be always there for her.

Sam's feels her entire hope crash when she hears him clear his throat. "Sam-"

"Don't say anything." She quickly begs as she pushes herself to stand, stumbling slightly down the steps in her attempt to escape. This has been a bad idea. She had known it was a bad idea. Why hadn't she listened to herself?

"Sam, wait-" She feels his hand brush against hers as he tries to stop her, to hold her back, but she pulls her hand back as if burned.

"No, it's okay, really." Sam assures him. "I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have told you. I... I'll understand if you want to write me up over th-"

"Carter, stop!"

Once again her training takes over, her mouth closing almost as soon as the order has been delivered. She stands stiff as a board, looking everywhere but at him. She knows that if she looks at him she will truly fall apart.

"Sam." Jack's voice is softer voice. He's using the same tone that he had used in the observation bay when he'd placed his arm around her shoulders and promised to always be there for her. "Sam, you can't just drop that and flee. You said you wanted to talk, so we talk."

"I don't want to talk anymore." She admits with a shake of her head. "It was a mistake. I... I misunderstood, that's all."

"Look, I don't pretend to always understand what you say when you go into your... technobabble, you know that, but you aren't making any sense now either."

Sam whimpers. Sometimes she forgets that even though they can communicate silently on the field, Jack cannot read her mind. He has no way of knowing that she's come here to ask what he meant with his promise to always be there for her. He can't have know that even her father had sensed that her feelings for him ran deeper than she'd even admitted to herself. Jack has no way of knowing how tired she is of hiding her feelings and fighting against her dreams when all she wants is to be with him. She'd just dumped it all on him then panicked when he hadn't reacted the way she'd hoped he would.

This time when he reaches for her hand she doesn't pull away.

"Talk to me, Sam."

She needs to calm down, fight against her desire to flee and unscramble her thoughts.

Taking another deep breath she settles herself. She doesn't rejoin him on the step they'd been previously sitting at. Instead she sits a step down, keeping a little bit of distance to somehow ground herself. Yet even with the difference in sitting levels, his hand remains wrapped around hers.

"Remember when Anise thought we were Za'tarcs?" She knows he remembers by the way his expression tightens. Jack had never liked Anise, never trusted her either. Having gone through the testing ordeal hadn't helped him change his mind, especially when she'd made him admit something he shouldn't have had to admit in order to prove that he wasn't a threat. "Remember what we had to admit?"

"Yeah." His expression somewhat softens but she can still see he's guarding himself, unsure of where she is going. She doesn't blame him. "We left it in the room. Like you asked."

She should have never offered to lock it away, she knows that now. Back then she'd been terrified of what they'd just admitted, terrified of losing everything she had ever worked for, terrified of getting court martialed and terrified of the feelings she had somewhat managed to ignore up until that point.

"The truth is that I don't think I ever left it in the room." She mumbles. "I tried. I forced myself to push it aside, to be the perfect soldier, the perfect 2nd, to be what you needed me to be and not what I wanted to be. I had been ignoring the feelings for years so it wasn't hard to do. Or so I thought."

Sam turns her head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye to try and judge how he was taking her words. He has a far away look on his face that she can't quite read. "Truth is... every time we were faced with near death, every time you were injured or I thought I had lost you, the feelings would bubble to the surface and I wouldn't know what to do with them. I would tell myself that that was it, that I wouldn't hide from what I felt anymore, that I would tell you and we'd find a way. Then you'd come back and you'd act like everything was alright and I would hide again."

"Sam-"

"Let me finish, please." She begged. She needs to tell him now or she'll never find the strength to say it. She will hide once again, ignore her feelings and remain as miserable as she has always been. She can't do that, not anymore, not when her father has told her she can have it all.

With his free hand, Jack gives her a little wave to continue.

"I convinced myself that if I couldn't have what I wanted then at least I could have you as a friend. I could watch your six and make sure that you made it back safe. I could wait, for as long as I needed to wait, and we would defeat the goa'uld and then maybe..." Sam doesn't end her thought. Instead she gives a little shrug that hopefully relates what she'd wanted to say; maybe they could be together once the war ended. "Before I knew it, so much time had passed and we'd... you'd never mentioned it again. I realized you'd left it in the room like I had asked, moved on and that whatever you'd felt was probably long gone."

"It hasn't." Jack interjects before she can stop him. Her face quickly turns fully towards him, her heart once again beating so hard against her chest that she is sure he can hear it. "It hasn't."

"I...I..." Sam stutters, unsure of how to reply to his confession.

"You didn't know." His words almost feel like an absolution that she doesn't deserve. She knows, just like he does, that she had given up. "Is that why you found the cop?"

"I had hallucinations when I was on board the Prometheus." She reminds him. " I wrote in my report that Daniel, Teal'c and my father had helped me find a way out. I wrote about the little girl and how she helped me-"

"Yeah, what was that about? You hallucinated them but I somehow didn't visit you?" Jack exclaims. "I'm wounded."

She cracks a sad smile before continuing where he had interrupted her. "What I didn't write in the report was that I had another hallucination. It was you."

She can tell Jack is surprised by the way his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Had he truly thought she wouldn't have hallucinated him? He was the single most important person in her life, there was no way her brain wouldn't have conjured him up. "We talked about... well about this. I realized that as long as I held on to the hope of us, of you, then I wouldn't be hurt by anyone else. I asked what would happen if I quit the Air Force, if I made it so that the regulations didn't matter, but you said you'd never ask me to do that. My concused mind made me believe there was nothing left between us and I was just using you as an excuse to not be happy. And when I woke up and you corrected me when I called you by your name, I knew I had to let you go."

His hand tightens around hers. She knows that he wants to say something but she also senses he's holding it back for her sake. She wants to urge him to tell her but instead she continues on to answer his initial question. "Pete is my brother's best friend. He arranged a blind date and we hit it off. He is... a complete opposite of you, I can see that now, and maybe that attracted me to him. I thought I was happy. In love, maybe. He was attentive and loving and he wasn't... forbidden. He was intense, wanting to go steady, changing his whole life for me, and asking me to marry him."

"Doh." Jack breathes out. Even he knows that it had all moved so fast for her.

"Yeah. Except at that moment I thought that's what I wanted, or at least as close as I could get to it."

Jack shakes his head and squeezes her hand again. "Somewhere in that big brain of yours something must have been telling you it wasn't. You took two weeks to give him an answer, for crying out loud."

"When I showed you the ring I was hoping you'd say something. That I shouldn't marry him. That he wasn't good for me. That you still felt whatever it was you had felt for me all those years ago. When you didn't... I resigned myself. He is a good man, he could make me happy, I just needed to put in the effort. I could have the life I had always dreamed off if I worked hard at it; the husband and 2.5 kids, the house with the white fence and the yellow kitchen, maybe even a dog and I wouldn't have to quit my job. He bought the house to give me that dream but it was all wrong and I panicked."

"And ended up here." He sighs as he let's go of her hand. She misses his touch instantly, her eyes running over his expression to try to figure out why he'd let go but she comes up empty. The night air instantly leaves her fingers chilled, so she pulls the hand he'd been holding close to her and covers it with her other hand in an attempt to keep the ghost of his touch on her skin.

"I swear I didn't know that you and Kerry... I wouldn't have come up here if I had." She knows her voice has dropped so low it's practically a whisper but she needs him to know that she hadn't meant to barge into their relationship. "I just... I needed you to know that I had never stopped feeling feelings for you. I needed you to know I had realized the mistake I was making. I wanted the house, the marriage and the family but I didn't want it with Pete. I wanted it with you. When she came out of your house... I knew I had truly lost you."

His reaction to her words is instant. He turns fully towards her and pushes his body off the step so that he can lower himself to the step she's occupying. His hand, which had just let go of hers, reaches out to her and she takes it before she can even think. Their fingers lace together and her heart jumps in her chest, the butterflies taking flight in her belly. He holds her gaze with his intense eyes and she finds herself getting lost in the dark chocolate of his irises. "You will never lose me, Samantha Carter."

A sob falls from her lips. She's not sure where it came from, nor does she wish to investigate. Instead she lets his words wash over her, calm her, ground her in the moment. She wants to lean forward and kiss him, let him see how much she loves him, but they haven't finished talking and she's still not a hundred percent sure where they stand. He is still forbidden to her.

As if sensing her hesitation, Jack continues, his gaze never leaving hers. "Kerry... is out of the picture. She dumped me."

"I'm sorry." Sam knows it's her fault. She knows her coming to his place, interrupting their evening with her need to confess, had probably derailed their relationship. He'd been happy, he'd found someone to spend time with, maybe spend the rest of his life with and she had messed it up. It's on her.

"I'm not." The honesty in his words surprise her. He doesn't sound regretful, doesn't even sound sad at his failed relationship. "She was right. I couldn't commit to her when I am already in love with someone else."

The air rushes out of her chest. She knows her eyes are wide, her mouth has dropped, and she's staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Has she heard him right? He is in love? Jack had never used that word before. He'd only said he'd cared for her more than he should have. Had he been in love with her all this time without her knowing? With her thinking that he'd moved on and she'd lost him? Was he even referring to her?

She opens her mouth to ask him just that but he shakes his head. "My turn now, Sam. You know I usually don't do the 'feelings talk' but we need this and it's my turn." Sam nods to tell him she'll wait for her turn.

From the moment she had met him, Jack O'Neill had kept his feelings and inner most thoughts close to his chest. War and the loss of Charlie had made him retreat, build up walls and guard himself as best as he knew how. After all, it's easier to pretend to be dumb and emotionally unavailable than to deal with the pain that someone else can cause you.

Sam, however, has always known that behind the sarcasm and hard soldier is a truly wonderful, intelligent, caring and complex man capable of so much love. She's seen glimpses of it in his dealing with other cultures, especially with children, and it has all served to make her fall in love with him harder than she's ever fallen. Even now, she can see him stripping himself of all his emotional shields in order to talk to her, to be fully open with her despite whatever pain may come his way. She can see the raw emotions in his eyes which makes her want to wrap her arms around him and protect him with her very soul. She remains silent, patiently waiting for him to speak, the tightening of her fingers against his serving as the support he needs to finish opening up.

Jack's doing this for her. She's ready to catch him if he needs her to.

"What I said back at the Zanax testing," he starts. "It was true. I cared about you more than I was supposed to. I would have gladly died right there and then than leave without you. We were lucky, very lucky."

"Extremely lucky." Sam agrees with him.

"When you said that we could leave it in the room, I didn't want to, not really." Jack turns his chocolate gaze towards her, his eyes begging her to understand why he'd so easily agreed to her idea. "But I knew I had to. I couldn't, wouldn't, put your career in jeopardy. Sam, I'm not exaggerating when I say you'll make General someday. You are right on track and I could see it even back then. Plus you are smarter than the whole base combined."

She can't help but smirk at his words. Yes, the thought of eventually becoming a General had been something she'd allowed herself to day dream once upon a time, but now it wasn't the most important thing to her.

"If we hadn't left it in the room, if we'd... done... something about it, you would have suffered far more than I would. You'd been demoted, court-martialed and stripped away from the program. I couldn't do that to you. Not then, not ever."

She opens her mouth to repeat the words she'd said back on Prometheus, to ask what would happen if she left the Air Force voluntarily, but he stops her with a shake of his head. "But I could definitively put mine on the line. That night I wrote my resignation."

"What?" She asks in a shocked cry.

"Don't look so shocked, Sam. I've been trying to retire since I was called back. Except now I had a good reason to do it."

She can feel the heat of her blush take over her face. She knows her face must be bright red but she does nothing to hide it. "But, you didn't turn it in."

"Wrong," he gives her a little smirk, the one that makes butterflies take flight in her belly, the one that lets her know he's got something up his sleeve. "I did turn it in but it was declined. Hammond wouldn't hear about it. Something about needing an old soldier like me on the front lines."

He'd turn in his resignation and she had never known. Jack had be willing to retire so they'd have a chance to explore whatever it was that was growing between them and she'd never been aware of it until now. How could that be?

"You weren't the only one ready to tell the regs were to shove themselves," he continues. "You know me, I've never been a stickler for the rules. Every single time you were hurt or missing, I was ready to throw it all to away and just... tell you. I i tried to retire, to resign each time. Then things would calm down and I'd remember how valuable you are to the program, and how much life you still have to live and I'd stop myself. Let's face it, I ain't exactly a catch."

"I wish you hadn't."

"I couldn't be selfish, Sam, not with you." His thumb gently smooths back and forth over her skin as his gaze falls from hers. He's trying to focus on anything but her, trying to not look up into her face for the next part. She doesn't have to ask to know what's coming next; Pete.

"Then the cop happened. You were happy and in love. You were humming for crying out loud! You were actually going home instead of just staying on base to work on your doohickeys." He gives a little shrug but even in the small movement Sam can see the weight that settles on him. It makes her heart ache painfully. "I forced myself to pull back. Couldn't be the reason you were unhappy. You were moving on and as much as it hurt, as much as I had hoped for... I had to let you go. Seeing you happy with what you wanted was enough."

"It's not what I wanted."

"I didn't know that." He quickly raises his gaze. His chocolate eyes meet with her own blue. "I had to just be your CO."

"Then you met Kerry." She wasn't demanding an answer from him, not really. She was simply stating the truth, a truth she had somehow failed to see until she'd stumbled right upon it.

She still remembers that day as if it had been yesterday. Seeing them through the map between his office and the briefing room had made her pause right away. The bubbling hotness of jealousy had settled in the pit of her stomach as her chest had constricted and her mouth had gone dry. She'd known something was different, something was happening, but she hadn't known how deep Jack had been.

"Kerry helped distract me." He finally admits. "From you. From the cop. From the regs. She wasn't something I had to fight against. It wasn't fair on her and I'm not proud of it."

Silence falls between them as Sam tries to find the words she needs to ask about them. She knows he and Kerry have broken up, he's told her as much, but that doesn't mean anything. They are unfortunately still separated by the Air Force's regulations and by their ranks. They are still as prohibited as when they had been in the middle of the Za'tarcs testing.

Closing her eyes, Sam gathers what strength she has left within her and prepares herself to ask what she truly wants to know. As if he knows what she's thinking, Jack waits for her, giving her as much time as she needs.

"When... when my father was dying you said you'd always be there." She finally whispers as she opens her eyes to look straight at him. "What... what did you mean?"

"Always." He says again, his voice unwavering. "Whatever way you want me."

"If I told you that I only wanted you as a friend?" They both know that's not what she wants, at least she hopes he knows, but she still has to ask.

Jack tilts his head to the side and observes her for a moment before answering. "Then I'd be your friend."

"And if I said I wanted more?"

"I'd ask if you were sure." He admits.

It strikes her that even now Jack wants to make sure that she doesn't suffer, whether it is professionally or personally. He's always made it her choice, always let her know that he respects her too much to hurt her in any way. What she'd subconsciously seen as some sort of rejection had been anything but that. He'd always wanted her to be sure of what she wanted, nothing less.

What does she want?

Does she want to keep being soldier Sam who saves the world from the grasp of danger and follows the rules to perfection? Or does she want more? She's tired of denying herself what she wants the most. She's tired of being unhappy and letting sadness fester in her soul. Her father had been right, she deserves to be loved and to love, she can have everything she wants if she's willing to run the risk.

What does she want?

She knows the answer before she's even finished asking the question?

"It's always been up to you, Sam." She hears him whisper before she feels his calloused fingers push back a strand of unruly blonde hair behind her ear, followed by his hand settling on her cheek.

"That's not fair on you." She leans against his touch, seeking the warmth of his skin, wanting to lose herself in it.

"Sam-"

"It's not!" She pulls back from his touch so that she can see straight into his eyes. She misses his touch instantly. "If... if any of this is going to work then we have to be a team. It's not up to me, not anymore. It's up to both of us; either we both agree to remain as friends and be miserable or we both agree to give this a try and be happy."

Sam knows his first instinct will be to insist that she has more to lose, which she does but not because of what he thinks. Sure, she could lose the impecable career she has forged for herself, could be demoted and shamed, but none of that weighs on her when she knows she will be losing the man she's secretly loved for the last eight years of her life. Losing her career would be hard but survivable. She's sure she cannot say the same of losing him.

Slowly, she leans forward. Her gaze remains locked with his until the nearness of their faces makes it hard to look into his eyes. She closes her eyes as the tip of her nose touches his in a soft caress. She can feel the warmth of his breath against her lips, her heart rate jumping and the all too familiar butterflies fluttering about in her belly yet again.

This will be their first kiss, at least the first one that counts. There is no alien virus, no alternate reality, no mind stamps and no hallucination created by a concussion. The world is not ending and neither of them is dying. This is just Sam and Jack sharing their first true kiss after eight years of holding back.

Their lips brush together, tentative and soft. It's too much and not enough, all at the same time. The tender caress deepens as she puts purpose behind her kiss. One of her hands rises and presses against his chest, the other one wraps around his neck, her fingers threading through the small hairs of his Air Force hair cut, her fingernails scratching just enough to signal for him to come closer. Jack understands her and pulls her towards him, parting his lips tentatively. It's an invitation that only she can answer.

The first touch of their tongues is electric and Sam instantly wants to know why her body reacts the way it does. She wants to break it down to the atoms that make the both of them until she understands it. Before her brain can get the best of her, her heart takes over and simply feels. She hums in the back of her throat as his hand once again cups her cheek, pulls her closer, make her lose herself in him. He tastes like something sweet, cake no doubt, a tinge of the beer he must have drank at some point, and something that is uniquely Jack. She's instantly hooked.

Their kiss turns more passionate. For a moment she forgets where she is, forgets to breathe between their kisses, forgets everything but him. Her world and all of its equations are reduced to one answer, one constant; Jack. Nothing else matters but the feel of his lips against hers, the warmth of his touch against her skin, the beating of his heart under her hand.

She's kissing Jack O'Neill and the world doesn't end.

She feels like she's finally home, where she is meant to be.

Why hadn't they done this before?

They would have probably remained on that spot, kissing like a couple of teenagers, if it wasn't for the flashing lights of a car passing by. It's plainly obvious they've both forgotten where they are and though she should have been terrified at the prospect of someone catching them, Sam finds herself not being able to care. She's finally kissed Jack O'Neill. She's finally getting what she's always wanted and she's not going to let anything get in her way.

After she finally manages to catch her breath and she calms her fast beating heart, Sam leans forward and presses her forehead against his. "What do you want, Jack?"

His answer comes with no hesitation. "You. It's always been you, Sam."

She smiles at him, she can't help it. It's one of those smiles that takes over her whole face. One of the smiles she saves only for him. It's a true happy smile, one she hasn't smiled in what feels like an eternity.

"And I want you." This time the words don't stumble out of her before she can stop them. This time she says them with intent and conviction. That's what it comes down to. She wants him. She's always wanted him. Jack O'Neill. No one else.

For some time she's theorized, and really tried to convince herself, that the reason why she panicked in her previous relationship was because Pete was moving too fast. He had taken vacation to be with her after only a couple of dates. He'd uprooted his whole life and changed states when she'd barely been settling in their relationship. He'd asked for her to marry him before their relationship was even through the first year. He'd bought a house and imagined their family in it before they were even married. It was all too fast, too soon and so she had panicked. Her theory had been wrong though, very wrong.

After the newness had worn off, her mind had constantly told her to run, to hide, to break things off and never look back. Her soul had told her that everything was wrong multiple times but she'd been too stubborn to listen to it and had instead convinced herself that she was simply not meant to have the family life she craved. Now she can see it clear as day; everything had been wrong but not because Pete was moving too fast but because he simply wasn't Jack. He wasn't the man she loved with every fiber of her being despite not having the right to love him. He could never fill the hole in her heart the way that Jack did by simply existing.

"I want you." She repeats with a tone of relief at finally being able to say it out loud.

"As a friend?" Jack asks. There is a glint in his eyes and the slight curling upward of his lips that tells Sam he's only teasing her. Of course he'd find a way to tease her and make her smile even wider. Typical Jack O'Neill, he's all hers.

"Yes," she teases back though she quickly adds. "And as a lover, as a partner, maybe even a husband."

Jack raises an eyebrow in a move that reminds her of Teal'C. Instead of coming back with a deflecting comment, he simply grins. "Nice."

"Is that… is that something you'd like?" She doesn't want to sound unsure but she wants their relationship to start, if it starts at all, with clear expectations.

"That was always my long-term mission." He surprises her with the softness of his voice. She'd almost expected an O'Neill wisecrack and sarcastic reply. "You and me. The cabin. Some fishing. Maybe couple of kids running around."

She sighs contently, surprised at the fact that her first reaction isn't to flee at the thought of a domestic life. She twists her body so that she's sitting with her side pressed to his and leans her head against his shoulder. Their hands once more find each other, fingers intertwining before she settles them on her lap. "I'd like that too."

"So we are doing this?" Jack asks as he signals between them with his index finger. "Telling the regs where to stick themselves."

"Yeah sure, you betcha." Sam replies right away. She needs no time to think about it, not with Jack. "We are doing this."

"We'll have to be careful. No one can know at the base. Can't do anything that will hint favoritism." With his words, Sam knows Jack is still thinking about her and her career. He's always going to want to protect her just as she wants to keep him safe. One wrong reaction, one inappropriate action, could end in court martial.

"We'll be careful."

"Teal'c will be happy." She hears Jack say through a soft chuckle. They both know that he is aware of their feelings, after all he's been there when they'd been forced to confess during the testing and had been a source of strength every time she thought she'd lost Jack.

"Daniel and Teal'c will keep our secret." She reminds him. She hears a hum of agreement which only makes her nuzzle closer to him. "No one else needs to find out. This isn't between Carter and O'Neill. This is just Sam and Jack."

Another flash of lights makes her perk up. She would have probably pulled her hand away, had he not been holding on to her tightly, relying on her schooled reaction to pretend there is no feelings between them other than friendship. They can't stay outside much longer.

"Come on." He beckons as he stands up. It takes her a gentle pull of his hand to stand up and to follow him into the privacy of his home but once she's inside she's able to relax once again.

His home is nothing new to her, after all they've had hundred of team nights in it over the years, and yet today it feels different. It's not a jarring difference, but a difference nonetheless. She knows that nothing has physically changed and yet she feels like this place will soon become a sanctuary, a place where they can just be Sam and Jack without rules, without their job, without the Air Force and the future of the world weighing heavy on their shoulders.

"Want a beer?" He asks as he guides her further in.

She follows him to the kitchen, nodding that she does indeed want one. She watches silently as he moves towards his refrigerator near the corner of the room, pops open the cap then offers it to her. Her heart fills with love at the picture of Jack O'Neill mischievously offering her a bottle of beer as he stands in the middle of his off-yellow kitchen. She could get used to this. She definitively could get used to this.

It takes her brain a second to fully process what her eyes are seeing, her hand frozen halfway up to reach for the beer bottle. She must have looked a sight because his forehead creases with worry as he takes a step closer to her. "Sam, what's wrong?"

She blinks herself back to reality and shakes her head. "Nothing." She tries to brush off her realization with the hope that he won't dig further but she should have known better. This is Jack O'Neill after all.

"What is it?"

"Your kitchen." She replies as if her answer is all he needs to understand what she's thinking, to know what she's just realized. When she sees his expression change from worry to confusion she can't help but giggle.

"Hey! What have we said about giggling?"

"Sorry." She replies though it's quite obvious she really isn't sorry. "It's just… for the longest time I've had this idea of the perfect kitchen in a house I've seldom let myself daydream about. It's… it's always this soft yellow color, between yellow and cream."

"Not following, Sam."

She grins, unable to hide the happiness she feels as she lets her eyes wander back to his walls. She's been in his kitchen hundred of times before and she had never realized it. "Your kitchen is yellow. Between yellow and cream. All this time… I got it from your kitchen."

Jack turns to look over his shoulder at the stretch of wall between his refrigerator and the stove. As if he too is realizing for the first time the color of his kitchen, he grins and turns to look at her. "Sweet! One less thing to worry about."

They'd never looked back after that. Sure, they had to be extremely careful with what they did and said at work to maintain their working relationship and the O'Neill and Carter dynamic, but once in the safety of either of their homes they were simply two people deeply in love, living their lives as best as they could given their circumstances.

And not once has Sam regretted any moment of it.

TBC


Notes:

This was meant to be a long one shot but I decided to cut it into three. Eager to know what you guys think so far.