CHAPTER 2

The next morning, Sam awoke to sunlight shining in through her bedroom window and the smell of coffee. She rolled over, and was stunned to find she had the whole bed to herself. Pete's side of the bed was cold and empty. Shrugging stiff shoulders, the Major stretched before dragging her feet into the kitchen.

The sleepy woman was met with a wonderful surprise. Pete was pulling pancakes off the skillet. He had obviously set the table with steaming coffee, silverware, and a vas full of bright yellow sunflowers. Sam smiled at his thoughtfulness, but it faded quickly when she remembered what she had resolved to do last night.

Pete finally turned to face her, carrying two plates of pancakes, toast, and fruit. After setting them on the table, he kissed her cheek and she was astounded when he didn't feel her tense under his touch. "Morning, babe." He pulled out a chair, "Have a seat. I made you a real breakfast today."

Sam studied his brown orbs that were so unlike the ones she longed for. These were lighter, more innocent, and filled with pride and love. The eyes she dreamt of were hardened, deeper. They glowed with self-deprecation and hidden intelligence.

She could see her fiancé's fragile heart showing through those brown windows. She couldn't possibly hurt him after he'd made such a beautiful gesture. Sighing, she plastered on a fake smile and took the offered seat. His cooking was exquisite, so unlike O'Neill's beer omelets. Yet, something about Jack's food was endearing. It was like he made it with his unique personality. Looking down at her half-way eaten meal, she found it to be ordinary and lacking in creativity.

Sam mentally reprimanded herself for the unprecedented comparisons she was making. Finishing up, they cleared the table together. When that was done, the Major gently took Pete's hand and led him to the living room.

She began carefully, "Thanks for breakfast. It was really great."

"You're welcome, hon," he placed a light kiss on her lips. When she didn't reciprocate, he knew something was up, "but, you didn't bring me here just to say that, did you?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Sam calmly took a breath, "You know I love you, Pete."

"But…" he prompted.

"I just don't think I'm in love with you."

Her face pleaded with him to understand, but he brushed her statement off, "All brides feel like this before their weddings. It's just jitters. They'll go away after the 'I do's'."

She struggled to find words to make him understand, "No, I don't think they will. I've been…having second thoughts for a while now," she admitted.

Pete just laughed, "Stop being silly, Sam. We're getting married in a few months. If you were going to break it off, your window of opportunity was when I proposed."

She was getting frustrated now, "I am not a child, Pete. I know what my own feelings are, and I know that however much you love me, I can never love you back with that intensity."

The smile slipped from his lips abruptly and his features were as icy as his voice, "Of course you can, babe. You have to, because you made me a very serious promise when you let me put that ring on your finger. And I'm not about to let you break it."

Sam fidgeted, knowing this wasn't going her way. She reminded herself how he'd been let down in the past, and slight guilt flooded her, "Pete, I know how terrible it was for you when your wife left, and when your girlfriend cheated on you, and I'm really not trying to-"

He cut her off harshly, "Not trying to what, Sam? Not trying to break my heart, make me sink so low that I want to commit suicide again?" She flinched at this, knowing full well how deep his depression ran after Cathy left him, "Well, it sure as hell sounds like you're doing a pretty crappy job if that's what you're not trying to do."

She reached out to him, but he slapped her hand away, "Pete, it wouldn't be fair for you to marry me," she attempted to reason with him.

Thick sarcasm filled the air, "Oh, of course it wouldn't be fair for me to finally get the perfect woman. I mean, look at you, Sam! After everything I've been through, I finally thought this was the big pay off. I thought, 'Pete, this is what you were waiting for. All your suffering is over now'," self-disgust twisted his features, "How could I have been so stupid?" He turned away from her.

Sam's heart lurched. She walked around so he was in front of her and lifted his chin. She could see the angry lines marring his skin. She spoke firmly, "You're wrong, Pete. I am not the perfect woman," she gave a hollow laugh, "Far from it. You have no idea how many lives I've been forced to take in combat. Would an angel do that?" He didn't respond and she continued, "I couldn't cook to save my life, am never home, and hog the covers. I often put my team and work before you. I have so much baggage that it could probably fill the whole SGC. I am independent to the point of obsession, and half the time no one knows what I'm on about-"

He pulled from her grasp roughly, "Stop! Just stop! I don't care about any of that. You see, that's what makes you perfect, babe," his voice ended softly. She could see the wetness threatening to spill from his eyes.

Sam regretted this whole thing instantly, but it was too late to turn back now. She kept her chin high. Her words were sympathetic, "Oh, Pete, I know you honestly believe that, but I can't trap you in a one-sided marriage. You don't see it now, but a year from now, or maybe two; I know in my heart that we won't be happy. You'll grow to resent how little I can be with you; you'll want a whole clan of kids and they'll need a full-time mother. My work just won't permit that. And do you really think you can spend the rest of your life worrying about me when I'm on missions; knowing I could be killed any second of the day?"

She could tell he knew she was right, but wasn't ready to confess it yet, "Anything is worth being with you."

"You're a good man, Pete Shanahan. You really are. And perhaps this wasn't your 'big pay off', but I am certain that you will get it one day. Can't you feel how wrong we are together?"

His posture radiated defeat, "Just answer me this: are you calling it off because we aren't right, or because there's someone you'd rather be with?"

The least she could do was be honest with him, "Everything I've said has been my true convictions, Pete. I can't say that I don't think there are better possibilities for us out there, though."

"Is there anyone specific?" Those telling irises conveyed that he already knew the answer.

"Yes." She felt like dirt.

Sam waited for him to blow up or storm out or something, but he stood unmoving. When he did finally speak, his voice was tight, "So that's it, then. He's won. And I've lost."

"You haven't lost. Please, think of this as a chance to find somebody who deserves you. Lord knows I don't."

"As mad as I am at you now, even I know that isn't true. You deserve much better than a burnt out cop, Sam. I won't tell you that I approve of him, but if you know beyond a doubt that he can make you happy; I won't stop you."

Relief flooded her and she tentatively gave him a hug, "Thank you, Pete. I wasn't lying when I said you're a good man."

She heard him fighting the lump in his throat. He squeezed her tightly one more time and then let her go, "I'll have my stuff out of here by the end of the week."

Sam understood how hard it would be for him to leave this house. He was the one who had picked it out, and he was the one that loved it. The Major made a decision, "No, you keep the house. I'll find someplace else to stay for a while before buying something permanent."

Pete started to protest, but she held up a hand to silence him. Wordlessly, he nodded his thanks. She grabbed her keys off the table and walked out their front door for the last time. From now on, it would be his. With a sad smile, she took a last look at their house.

Sam started the engine in her Volvo and left all the memories of them at that house where they would be protected. She was confident Pete would find another woman to mend his heart. She took a deep breath, and traveled further and further from his residence.

Carter looked forward now. She was on a different, and perhaps more difficult, mission now. Jack O'Neill was, after all, a hard man to get through to. But that wouldn't deter this USAF soldier from trying.

'…your Colonel…' Not yet, she thought, but he would be.

A/N: I wasn't planning on giving this story any more chapters, but you all were just so sweet, I couldn't resist. By the way, if anyone still remembers my other stories, I'm reworking them and trying to find more inspiration to write! Thanks!