CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A lone figure stood under a palm tree on a sandy beach and admired the view.
The man was looking at a small beach house. It was a single story affair, painted a very pretty shade of blue and featuring a covered wraparound porch that looked perfect for ocean and people watching. The screen door leading into the house was closed, but the stout front door behind it was open, letting the ocean breeze flow through the house, and letting the man know someone was home.
He stood there, watching, for a long time. If anyone noticed his presence, they took no action.
The beach was nearly empty. It was late in the season, and only a few hardy locals were braving the cooling waters. A sudden breeze came in off the waves, and the man shivered a little.
His movement broke his stillness, and he looked around casually. He thought the weather was simply grand, and on a whim he suddenly kicked off his shoes. As he reached down to remove his socks and put one roll into the hem of his jeans, he thought that under any other circumstances he might really enjoy a trip to a place like this.
When he was done, he stood and wriggled his toes in the sand. It felt wonderful.
Jack O'Neill had always liked the edge of the water. Any water. This place was no different, and he could see why Carter had chosen it for her getaway.
Jack closed his eyes and sighed as he thought of Carter-the reason for his trip.
He was nervous, and didn't really know if he wanted to do what he had come to do, but he had come this far, so he figured there was no sense in backing out now.
Ten toes wriggled a final time in the sand, and then the body attached to them started to walk purposefully toward the little blue house with the awesome porch.
Jack hesitated at the steps of the porch, but he gripped the rail for only a second before swallowing his fear and his pride and continuing up the three stairs to the door.
It was too late to change his mind. He'd made his decision at the palm tree. He knocked on the frame of the screen door with gusto and waited with bated breath.
An eternity passed before Jack heard a slow shuffle coming from inside the house.
The shuffle became louder gradually, and finally the source of the sound was revealed. Jack had been staring at the floor through the door as he knocked, and the first part of the person coming towards him that he saw was a pair of pink fuzzy slippers dragging slowly over the floor. As his gaze traveled upward, he took in loose fleece pants below a dark blue bathrobe. Finally, on top of this ensemble, was a very tousled blond head. One hand rubbed at one eye. The woman had obviously been sleeping, and she was having a difficult time returning to the land of the living.
Jack smiled in spite of his nervousness. Carter looked adorable.
As she swiped at her face drowsily, Sam groggily called out. "Coming."
The hand fell away from the face as the words came out, and sleepy eyes were awake and wary instantly as Sam saw who was at the door.
To say she was surprised would have been putting it mildly. She was shocked.
Carter's mouth opened as her feet stopped her body a full five feet from the door. Her jaw moved up and down a few times, but no sound came out her mouth.
Jack took a nervous breath and his eyes met Sam's.
The two people regarded each other for a time before the woman finally spoke.
"Sir? What are you doing here?"
Her voice was half confused and half angry. A part of Sam couldn't figure out how Jack had found her here at an old friend's summer beach house halfway across the country, and a part didn't care. The second part was just angry that he'd come at all and in doing so had violated her wishes to be left alone for a while to try to sort some things out. If another part of her was glad to see the man on the porch, it was silent now.
Jack tried to play off his presence with a joke. "Oh, you know, Carter...I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by. See how you were."
The joke did nothing to lighten the mood.
"I'm fine," replied Carter in a cold voice.
"Ok."
It was quiet for a long while after Jack's brief, defeated response.
Two sets of ice cold eyes stared at each other for a moment, but the brown ones lost, and Jack looked down at his bare feet on the sandy porch while desperately wondering what to do next. Carter's voice finally shattered the deathly quiet.
"Is there something else I can do for you, sir?" Sam's voice was brave and detached, trying to let Jack know that it wasn't ok for him to just show up like this, but her insides were a roiling mass of emotion. She was still angry and confused, but the part of her that was thrilled to see Jack was beating the other emotions down and becoming stronger with each passing second. Sam was glad the door was separating her and Jack, as otherwise she thought she wouldn't have been strong enough to resist him, and she still needed a little time to decide what she wanted to do with her life right now.
The coldness of Sam's voice cut Jack like a knife, and his first thought was to turn and flee. He wanted to say something like 'nope, guess I'll be going now', but as the words began to form on his tongue, Daniel's words from two nights ago came back to him.
'Let her in, Jack. Let her in or let her go.'
The calm good bye left Jack like water slicks off a duck's back. As the tide began to rise behind him, adding an almost too tranquil background noise to the conversation, Jack O'Neill swallowed his pride and opened himself up to injury as he had only a few times before.
"Yeah, there is, Sam. You might be ok here, but...I'm not."
The use of her given name was not lost on Sam, and hearing it surprised her, but the rest of Jack's words flabbergasted her. Jack, as in Jack O'Neill, as in her former CO, had just admitted that he wasn't ok. Sam couldn't believe her ears. She stood rooted to the floor and just stared at the man on her porch in amazed shock.
Jack began to figet nervously when Carter didn't respond to his admission. He began to think again that he had made a mistake, but it was getting damned irritating to talk through a screen door, so he tried to change his situation.
"Look, Carter…just…look…can I come in?"
Sam's response was quick and decisive.
"No."
Jack's eyes clamped shut involuntarily and a short huff of breath came out his nose. He had to fight a rising taste of bile in his mouth as his stomach violently churned. His heart felt like it had been speared with a long sharp needle while his brain taunted him. 'I told you so,' it yelled over and over. Jack wanted to find Daniel and Teal'c and throttle them for convincing him to do this.
Jack was so lost in his own world of overwhelming emotion that he nearly didn't hear Sam speak again. Her voice was still strong, but it had taken on a softer note of thoughtfullness.
"But I'll come out there."
Jack shook his head, trying to comprehend what Sam had spoken.
"What?"
"I'll come out there."
"For what?"
"I walk every night. It's good for me. It takes me a long time to get to the point and back, but it's worth it, and every night it gets a little easier."
Sam nodded her head toward a rocky outcropping about a quarter mile down the beach as she explained, and Jack noticed the natural seawall for the first time.
"Oh. Well, I'll leave you to it, then."
Sam sighed. "No. It's ok. Walk with me."
"What?"
"Walk with me."
"Oh, I thought…well…"
"Jack, walk with me."
"You don't mind?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes…unless you don't want to?" Uncertainty crept into Sam's voice as she spoke this time. She had thought Jack wanted to talk, but now she wasn't sure. He sure seemed uncomfortable with the idea of taking a stroll, and Sam became self conscious.
Jack's response was a series of uncharacteristic stammers. "No. I mean yes. I mean…I want to go with you. I just…you seemed pretty pissed when you saw me here."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting it." As Sam spoke, she pulled off her bathrobe, revealing a light blue tee-shirt underneath. She slid her feet out of her slippers and stepped outside as Jack apologized for his sudden appearance.
"Sorry."
"It's ok. Let's walk before it gets dark. It can get chilly after the sun goes down. Come on. You're already dressed for this, I see." Sam smiled down at Jack's bare feet.
Jack smiled a genuine smile. He set his shoes down on the porch while Sam rolled up her fleece pants a few times. When she was finished, Jack looked at her questioningly.
"You ready?"
"Yes, sir. Let's go."
"Lead the way."
Sam nodded once, then turned and slowly descended the three steps to the sand. When her feet hit the still warm sand, she sighed and began to slowly walk to the end of the beach.
Jack O'Neill followed, careful not to pass Sam, who still shuffled while she walked and had to go at a slow pace. Jack was amazed at how far Sam had come, but he knew she still beat herself up about not being completely normal. Her standards were high for everyone, but those she held for herself were impossibly so. Jack sighed and hoped that one day Sam would learn to be comfortable in her own body, even with its imperfections.