Deliberate Speed

As promised!

5: Reality Check

"Did I scream again?" Sam asked, her voice rusty. She blinked to clear her vision, and recalled where she was. She smiled and Jack smiled back. Hadn't she awakened like this after Fifth expelled her, with a warm, almost intimate touch and his face? Wow. Or: Wow, she was still tired.

"Um, I think I need to..." she said, rising. Jack helped her to her feet, and pointed to the rear of the house. As she shuffled away, she saw him watching her as he flicked the throw much like one did when shaking a rug. Sam chuckled and left him. Oh, boy; she was so going to feel that fall off the bike!

Sam returned somewhat refreshed (and dusted!), noting with pleasure the two cups of hot coffee on the table. Then she saw how unusually thoughtful Jack seemed as he sat on the sofa.

"Sir?"

"What? Oh, Carter. It's just, I should've seen it coming," Jack said. "You went through that hell, and I just figured, oh, you got over it. Like your episode on Thor's ship never happened. You practically zoned out at the debriefing, and kept breaking stuff in the lab. I break stuff, not you. Great looking out, huh? Some commander I'll make at the SGC."

"You'll be a hell of a commander, sir," Sam's voice responded before he could go on. She came to the sofa and sat facing him, one leg tucked under her. She grimaced as soreness from her long night became more apparent. Her face was pink from washing and a little angry. "You're the reason we even defeated the Replicators, if you recall. Hello, the Repository in your head and the weapon?" Sam scolded him. How dare he blame himself, doubt himself because of her antics?

"Yeah, there was that, but you were playing tag with the highway patrol! Under my watch!" Jack growled, his dark eyes flashing briefly. "If this was another stupid idea for the Asgard, it'll fit right…" Sam ducked her head. Of course he was still PO'd over her antics, despite his worry. She steeled her resolve against the force of his anger.

"Sorry, I screwed up, sir. That's not your fault," Sam cut in. Then she looked at Jack and knew this was about her, now. "The voices, images…they wouldn't let me sleep. I hated feeling so helpless. In my dreams, Fifth was so angry, so hurt…" Sam whispered to her hands. "I could leave him and them behind if I ran fast enough, far enough." Jack squeezed her shoulder gently. "I should have known better; I never run away!" She huffed miserably. "Did I say how I hate being helpless?"

"Yes, you did, and it doesn't lessen you," Jack said. "You're allowed to lose it, too. And Fifth was never even close to human, no matter what he appeared to be."

"Yeah, I kind of got the point when he pretended to be…um, well, tried to be Pete…" Sam finally replied, shivering at the memory. She didn't see Jack flinch at the name and the implication. It was all true about Fifth, just hard to accept the nightmarish event was done.

Sam drank the coffee, her thoughts somber. At the same moment, Jack looked up and their eyes met. The Man hardly missed a thing!

"Everything's changing, sir. Maybe that was on my mind, too, a little," Sam said, making herself maintain contact with his shrewd brown eyes. "Being second in command to the baddest colonel in the Air Force, the SGC, hell, maybe even the galaxy. Well, it's just a little pressure, you know?"

"Oh, yeah? Baddest? In the galaxy? Hey, I'm bad," Jack quipped briefly. Sam looked down. He got serious again. "And?"

"I'm your second in command. I can't appear to not measure up," Sam replied.

"Measure up? Decode, Carter."

"To you, sir. I can't go through all of that and not be able to go back on duty. Not like you did after escaping from Ba'al. I wouldn't seem tough enough, " she answered. His expression hardened. Sam felt herself growing anxious then angry at his attitude. "You won't be with us anymore, you'll be on base. We'll still be SG-1 but…"

"Thirty-seven."

"Sir?" Sam said, frowning at this curt interruption. He sat back and regarded her with his unreadable CO mask. "Thirty-seven what?"

"Requests on the general's – my –desk, asking for reassignment to SG-1 if you're leading it," Jack responded. Sam gaped at him. "Fourteen more requesting you on their teams if you don't lead SG-1," he added seriously. "That's only since I last checked. Walter keeps dropping more whenever I turn around." Sam didn't know if any thoughts were left in her head; she was speechless. Jack seemed satisfied. He had that insufferable smirk on his face as he picked up his cup and sipped, all the while locking his eyes on hers. "Any more questions?"

Sam could only shake her head. Then she stopped.

"So am I…?"

"Can't say. I'm not in charge yet," Jack said, clearly teasing her now.

Sam digested this. No question that Jack was saying this just to cheer her up. She felt a bit giddy. What a mess she nearly made! And by that infernal twinkle in his eyes, Jack felt the same and wasn't hiding it. Sam caught on; his little payback for making him worry, the dog. He was going to make her wait to find out about SG-1. His next words, though, told her a very special story.

"You don't do it alone, Carter. No one does. I didn't," Jack said, his voice low and hesitant. He'd only ever sounded like that just a while ago; she was more alert. His eyes were grave as he gazed back at her. "I had help. I had you, Daniel, Teal'c, Hammond. All the people I know and trust. And it wasn't enough, not if I ever wanted you, all of you, to trust me again."

"But, you never said…You said you were on week's leave," Sam said, hearing what he was saying. She was recalling his quick return to duty, his normal demeanor after the withdrawal subsided. She'd been as impressed as everyone at the SGC. There were some reckless times she'd wondered at, but she mostly figured it was just Jack as usual. "You said all you had to do…"

"Was 'get back on the horse.' I remember. Maybe call it a saddle adjustment. Ba'al was no picnic, Carter, and I'm damned sure Fifth wasn't either. No matter what I've said about shrinks, I know the right one makes a difference. Forget Mackenzie. Part of the changes around here: new personnel. Get what you need, Sam."

Sam heard the anguish behind his sincere words. Words of warning. She'd been incredibly lucky tonight, hardly a scratch physically or on-record. Trying to cope like that was a sure way to dead-end her career and her life. He could have ordered her; he didn't. Jack was giving her a second chance even though she knew his anxiety masked his irritation with her. He'd shown her a glimpse of his private hell to help her deal with hers.

"Wow. A fine mess I made, huh? Guess I really was following my CO's example," Sam's voice was low, but she managed a smile. Jack nodded his head, imitating a sage manner. Always trying to ease tension, she thought fondly, gratefully.

----

"Yes, grasshopper. Work on the cockiness, and you'll be a master some day," Jack replied lightly. Sam rolled her eyes. That was kind of normal, right? Just a hint of sadness with hope and of course, sleep, remained in her arresting eyes. He'd take it; this was Sam. She'd know what she had to do. They relaxed and she shared a little of her ordeal, and he did the same, like only close friends would.

He hoped they'd still be able to do this in the future. A future where he'd be waiting for her, and the team to come through the gate safely. Time after time. Jack memorized everything about this time, this place; he was sure he'd need the comfort of it somewhere down the line.

Eventually, Jack couldn't deny they had to return. Sam kept trying not to yawn. So, he suggested they get back to base. Returning from the kitchen, he caught sight of Sam's fitted leather pants, tucked into her rider boots again. Jack shook his head to clear it. Ok; this is his 2IC. But when she walked toward him with her jacket in hand, he was there to help her put it back on before he even thought about it. She thanked him with a big smile and preceded him to the door.

After locking up, he saw her head to the back of the SUV, her helmet in hand.

"Oh, Carter, front seat. Uh-uh, that's an order," Jack said firmly. For a moment he thought she would resist, but she just swore and marched to the door, jumped in and slammed it. She buckled her seat belt and sat silently looking at the front window.

Jack climbed into the driver's seat. Sam was running her hands over the helmet in her lap, avoiding his eyes.

"Oh, stop sulking."

"I am not sulking!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am…Sir, you're right," Sam sighed and sat back. Jack focused on the road. "I know I shouldn't have left the base before the doctor cleared me…"

"I don't think there'll be much fallout. Good ol' Doc Thompson seems to have changed her mind about keeping you on base." He'd made sure of that, of course. Dr. Thompson was slated for a transfer, and wasn't she grateful for his pre-approval. Piece of cake.

"And you're all right with that?" Sam asked, incredulous. He turned to look at her briefly.

"Yep. Got other things on my mind, like the formal ceremony for assuming command of the base this weekend. Why do all that paperwork when everything worked out just fine? So, done deal," Jack answered, a smile on his face. She was flabbergasted; he liked giving her that look. "Carter, you're not on report for this, but if you ever give me this kind of headache again, so help me, I'll bust you down to base dead-mouse finder."

That returned them to their familiar banter and they rode back to base in a comfortable mood. He could admit to feeling just a little more relaxed.

Sam was gonna be ok. His world was gonna be ok.

TBC

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