Chapter 9

She was dreaming, it was a wonderful dream. He was holding her like just after Janet had died. Holding her and comforting her up close and personal. And she was shivering wrapped in him arms with his face buried in her neck kissing and nuzzling her. She woke with a start still shivering. Just a dream, just a dream! She thought while trying to make sense of just where she was and why the general lay beside her. Sam got up quietly not wanting to wake him but he seemed quite deeply asleep. Grabbing a blanket she wrapped it around her shoulders.

She surveyed her surroundings that she had not had the luxury to take in before. The room was mostly given over to the bed and dressers on either side of it. On the opposite wall was a table and stools which had been pushed aside when they brought General O'Neill in and treated him for his injuries. There were still some bloody scraps of cloth on the floor that Sam picked up and then didn't know where to put them. On one wall were two doorways; one to the outside hall way that lead to the stairs to the surface and to the lower floors of rooms and another doorway to a bath and large closet. The opposite wall was covered entirely by a sheer curtain that rustled in the evening breeze. Sam threw the rags into a bin in the bathroom and washed her hands. That rusty stained water swirling down the drain and the breeze intensified the chill that was settling into her bones. She went over to the curtained wall and pulled it back to reveal a balcony of sorts hewn into the rock face. There was a half wall for most of the length of the room's edge then a doorway to the balcony. It and all the other terraces in the fjord were well concealed with the odd bits of shrubs and trees and natural shape of the cliff face. Sam doubted anyone outside would ever notice unless the populace was all on the balconies waving banners.

The night was pitch black without a moon to brighten it. There were barely any stars either. She thought the colonel… no, the general would not approve of a starless sky. But that still left the problem of the stiff breeze that could just about blow you out of bed on a winter's night. Either these people were incredibly hardy or they had a way of partitioning off – then she saw it. Built into the doorway was something reminiscent of a pocket door. She pulled it and it glided across to create a wall and enclosed the room.

Sam looked at the general to see if all the activity had awakened him but saw instead that he was restless and sweating. This couldn't be good, she was still cold. Sam wet a cloth in the sink and cooled his face and neck. She berated herself for not waking him earlier and giving him more of the medicine. His eyes opened bright but somewhat unfocused.

"Carter? Where…"

"We're safe, sir. You need to drink this."

"T? Daniel?"

"I don't know but the people here said they would send out for word of them at sunup. They assured me that all the other natives of this planet would protect them and offer them refuge.
You need to drink this."

And helping him to sit up, she put the cup to his lips. He grimaced at the taste. The second sip only stayed down by sheer will power. She gave him water to drink to wash away the foul taste and then some bread left over from the evening meal. No longed overly warm, O'Neill was shivering. Sam took the blanket from her shoulders and put it around his bare torso. She brushed some of the crumbs off the bed and sat by him as he slid back, sleep again overwhelmed him.

Sam tried to get some sleep. Afraid her tossing and turning would wake O'Neill she rose and paced in the small room. But it was cold and the shared warmth of the bed lured her back to his side.

She looked at the man sleeping in the bed. How had she let things get this far? She needed to talk to him – wanted to right now – wanted to wake him up and have him tell her just what they meant to one another. Not clichés, not those cheerful phrases good friends, best 2IC. She wanted no bullshit; she needed to know. But he was snoring for god sake and if she woke him either he'd be loopy from the meds or grinding his teeth or clenching his jaw to fight off the pain. When the hell would she ever know? When else would she have the nerve to ask him? He had been on her mind for so long – years now. Then she tried to 'move on' and at first it kind of worked. Pete, the great diversion, but the illusion of happiness was fading fast. She hadn't made conscious comparisons; no they came in her dreams. If she made love to Pete, she dreamed of being in Jonah's arms; if she heard tales of Pete's heroism on the job from his friends, she was flooded with memories of Jack standing up to all comers. If Pete tried to make her smile, she knew her smile was a mere shadow of those reserved for O'Neill.

After O'Neill was frozen in stasis and she could not figure out a way of saving him, Sam was ordered back to Colorado and ordered to take some down time. Even off base her mind was consumed with ways to bring him back. And yet she berated herself for her inability to let him go. She kept thinking about her last trip to his house for as the Ancient knowledge consumed him… was it to lay open her heart… a last chance to make love , a taste of the forbidden, a pity fuck… didn't they both deserve better. Didn't Pete deserve better?

But he came back, the incredible bad penny and a general yet - further removed from her. She had even the gall to show him the ring. What did she expect from that? After years of adhering to the regs. did she expect him of get down on his gimpy knees and beg for her hand? Did she expect him to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless? No, he told her what he always did 'get a life, save yourself, pull another good idea out of your ass and don't think life to death'. He would not make decisions for her about her private life. Here, he would not order her about. Here, he gave her freedom even if it cut him to the quick.

One night, a few months ago, she stood out on her back deck looking at the night sky and thinking how things had fallen apart. Teal'c was involved with Ishta and the Free Jaffa movement. Daniel was planning to board the Prometheus for Atlantis without looking back. The general was up to his ears in running the base, pacifying politicians and Alien allies alike, acceding to the demands of the Pentagon and the administration, and defending Earth from Goa'uld and Replicators. And where was she?... betraying the base and her entire world to the Replicators and betraying not only O'Neill but her own heart with Pete. Pete walked out that moment and put his arm around her and hugged her asking her what was wrong. She realized she couldn't stand for him to touch her. His voice grated on her. His smell once an allure, nauseated her. All this and she had committed herself to him.

And now here within arms reach was the man she truly wanted yet was afraid to approach.