Disclaimer: not mine. Never will be. Makes me very sad.
Accompanying piece to 'The Eagle'. Jack and Sam discuss the gulf war and their involvement. Hopefully amend some of the inaccuracies of the story. A/note stuff at the bottom. Italics for dreams/ flashback. Set at the cabin post Moebius. Reasonably fluff free, very mild shippiness *Warning: Creative licence hard at work! (Three fries short of true canon, but not totally AU)
~~ Epilogue ~~
"Ya' right there Carter?" he asked her over the radio. She shook off the pressure that built between her ears. They rose higher and higher, leaving the remainder of their squadron behind, buzzing like flies, right above the drop zone.
"All good Sir." She assured him from her seat behind. She tightened her grip and clenched her jaw even tighter. "Still with me, Sir?"
"Where would I go?" he laughed. She didn't miss the pained cough that followed. This was not how it was supposed to be. It was a simple run, all in a day's work.
The sky ahead was calm as they crested and the world slowed, pulling her insides up her through her throat. The jet rolled back and the horizon came into view, rising up and their target lay before them.
"It's party time..." he joked.
She punched it and her head slammed back into the headrest. They accelerated quickly and her G-suit came into play. Pressure from the suit squeezed at every part of her body, forcing blood back to her brain. Her chest compressed and she felt the ache as she tried to draw oxygen back in.
The battle below was upon them before she realised. Her breathing grew short but she was determined to maintain her focus. A Falcon flew right in front of the nose, so close...
She gasped as she sat up in her bed, lungs still aching as if she were back in that seat. She panted and grasped feebly at her neck and chest, breathing heavily and could not hold back the shudder. A thin sheen of sweat glistened in the moonlight that came though the open window.
She was fully awake as she quickly took in her surroundings. She would not be able to sleep for the rest of the night; she glanced at her watch, morning. She never could after these dreams. These nightmares.
She pulled on her cardigan and stepped out onto the back deck. She did not expect to find him there. It was his house, sure, but she did not expect to find him sitting outside at four in the morning, something swirling around the glass in his hand.
He saw her then.
"Penny for your thoughts, Carter?" he returned his sleepy gaze to his glass. She joined him at the outdoor table. A playing card danced between his fingers, tapping indiscernibly on the hard wood.
"So many years going offworld and it's the Gulf that wakes me in the middle of the night..." she mused.
"You were young. The world became a lot more gruesome. You're not the only one." He drank deeply from his glass. Absently he offered her the remainder. She took it. Scotch. Good scotch too.
From the corner of her eye, he held up the playing card, still dancing between his caressing fingers.
"We got caught out on an Op this one time. You learn what you had to hold onto. What tied you to your home." He grumbled pensively.
"What kept you going?"
"Charlie." He analysed the card in his hands. "He was four when I left. I tried to teach him to play cards, but he liked to make up his own rules. We played Snap, but he confused it with another game we played. 'Go fish Dad! Go fish!' he would say, instead of snap."
He smiled sadly and slowly flattened the card on the table.
"I was at the end of my rope that time. I lost a few and for just a moment, I didn't want to see the next day. I was content to go, right there under the sun. But then, rescue came. Some of the men there, they didn't hold onto something they left behind. They held onto something they prayed for."
"Like what?"
"Well, this one guy looks to the sky and yells out 'The Eagle! It's Eagle." He pointed to the moon. "I see this sixteen fly over us..." he hands swooped lightly down, before collapsing into his lap. "I had no clue. They were glad to see it though. Like it was the second coming..."
He looked at her. She gave nothing away.
"Hmm." She shrugged.
"I woke up in base med the next day. I asked the nurse about this 'eagle' but she didn't know. The guy in the next bed over did though..."
"Sergeant Jake Zois." The young man held out a bandaged hand.
"Lieutenant Colonel Jack O'Neill." He shook it.
"I've seen the Eagle in action Sir. Best flyin' I ever saw. Flyboys are meant to make a drop on a munitions store in this shanty kind of town, in the middle of freakin' nowhere. Pretty soon, about dozen bogies are on top of them. Eagle engages, takes out two, breaks off and flies up real high." His hands rose in the air, a silhouette in the light above his bed.
"Came back down, through the middle of sortie, punches straight through, makes the drop and pulls up right at the last second. Bit that was so damn impressive; took out the target, leaves everything else perfectly untouched. Zero unaccounted casualties."
That was certainly worthy of a head nod.
"But that's just what I saw. There are loads of other stories around. When you got Eagle covering your back, you know you're going home."
"This guy got a name?"
That stumped him.
"I never got his name. Can't think of anyone who'd know. He's kinda like the red baron. You see the plane, you know what's coming."
"Apparently this 'Eagle' was very good at hitting his target, and only his target." He pulled a scotch bottle up from beneath his chair, along with another glass. He silently offered her one. She accepted. After another long moment, she finally addressed him.
"I flew backseat in my CO's sixteen-B. We got stuck in a dogfight, took a few shots, I'm stuck making the drop to get us back in time to get him to med. We made it out, next thing I know, I'm fronted up to Lieutenant General Horner. I thought I was going to lose my head." She took a sip. He waited patiently for her to continue.
"Couple of days later, I'm trotted into a hanger and there's this E model Falcon sitting in there. It's got a massive bald-headed eagle on the back and no name on it. Some of those missions were as classified as the Stargate program. Part of that was because I was a woman. At least that's what I still believe. All up I had ninety six hours in the Nighthawk, probably twenty eight, maybe twenty nine in the Falcon. I will admit Falcon was more spectacular, kind of sucks that the logs were never released. Decided I deserved a medal for my last run."
Silence hung between them.
"Is that why you had that chip on your shoulder?" he asked abruptly.
"I did not have a chip on my shoulder..." she rebutted.
"It was the size of Texas, Carter. Surprised you didn't fall over..." he took a sip of his scotch. "Thanks Sam."
"For what?"
"Saving my ass..." She gave him an amused eyebrow. "And all the other times too."
The corner of her mouth rose into a smile. She looked to her glass and held it out. He raised his glass to hers.
"The Eagle." He offered.
"To the Jack of hearts." She grinned
Sure enough, the card on the table under their glasses was the Jack of hearts. They downed the scotch, slamming their glasses on the table.
"Alright. Let's do it." Jack stood and leant down over the table across from her.
"Sir?" she frowned. He dug his right elbow in a groove on the table. "Are you serious? You wanna arm wrestle?"
"I'm feeling a bit drunk, I'm old... and I've always wondered who would win. Step up."
She obliged him, leaning across the table and grasping his hand, her grip surprisingly tight.
"Ready?" he asked. She gave him a confident grin.
"Don't worry Sir, I won't let you down."
~~ SG1 ~~
Reviews welcomed and fully appreciated.
A/note: not strictly canon, but reasonably close. As an Air Force Cadet I do understand the limitations for women in the military. Thank you to everyone for the friendly reviews. Especially C. The epilogue is not necessary to the story, but it's just a bit extra. Though looking at this, it's not really an epilogue; it's very much another chapter. But it is complimentary to the main story, hence being called an epilogue.