Chapter 4

"I've got a briefing with Hank at 0900 and then I'm off," Jack explained, wiping his face and putting his toothbrush back in the cup. In the mirror Jack saw Sam nod. She looked tired.

"We don't leave until tomorrow now," she replied. "Landry called…he wants to make sure we've analyzed all the MALP and UAV data before we head out. We don't want to find any nasty Ori surprises waiting for us."

"Yeah. You know, these Ancients and Ascended Beings are getting to be a royal pain in the ass. It makes my head hurt trying to keep up with their damn rules."

Jack glanced at Sam but she seemed not to have responded. Fine. Time to go for a slightly more over-the-top comment.

"The Go'auld—now, they were predictable. Giant egos. Cecile B. DeMille wardrobes. Enough eye make-up to make Tammy-Faye proud. You could count on them every time."

Still no response from Sam. Not like he was surprised.

"You okay?" Jack asked, trying not to let her know that he was worried sick in the pit of his gut.

He could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant.

"Me? Yeah. Why?"

Jack shrugged.

"Nothing. You just seem a little, I don't know. Un-Sam like."

"I could rattle off some Quantum Theory for you, if you like," she shot back. A little too quickly, Jack thought. He glanced at her again and thought she looked as though she was about to become physically ill. He tried for light, one more time.

"No—thanks. I already have a headache at the prospect of spending several days in the company of Woolsey, not to mention their high and mightinesses, the Ancients."

He glanced at her again, hoping to see a glimmer of a smile, but if possible, she looked even worse than before. Okay. Enough of this crap. He had to know what was going on with her. because if he had to, he'd step in and pull her off this damn mission. He didn't know why, but he knew that this was the turning point right here. Whatever happened, would happen because of what he chose to do right now.

"Hey…." he asked quietly, letting her know that he had set all joking aside now. "What's wrong?"

Sam just shook her head. Words, it seemed, would not come.

"Sam?" He was going to insist. None of this keep-it-to-yourself, suck-it-up crap anymore. "What's up?"

He took her arm and turned her toward him. She resisted at first, but then gave in. Her arms were around his neck and she held him so tightly that he thought she would never let go.

"Hey," he said, starting to ask again, but really, at the moment it didn't matter what was wrong. It only mattered that they hold one another. So he gathered her to him and held her, waiting.

Finally, she broke from him and stepped back. He grasped her hands and held them against his chest, not wanting to let her go completely. Images of the night before swirled in his mind. He would hold on to her. He would hold on to her as long as he possibly could.

"It's silly, really," she managed, giving a slight laugh that sounded a lot more like a sob.

"Yeah. I can see that," he replied quietly. Sam gestured futilely.

"I just can't seem to shake the feeling that you going to Atlantis is a really, really bad idea. Ridiculous, huh?" She tried a little laugh again. This one came out better. Jack didn't smile. A cold fear was creeping over him.

"Ridiculous," he repeated, somberly. Maybe it was too late. Maybe nothing he did now would matter anyway. "Sam…."

"I know…" she interrupted. "I know. I go through the Stargate every day where there's a heck of a lot more dangerous things going on than a bunch of ten-thousand year old people reclaiming their lost city. And we both know that one of these days the odds are probably going to catch up with one of us…"

"Sam…."

"And we both knew the risks when we got ourselves into this…."

"Sam…."

"But if anything happened to you…." her voice trailed off and the look she gave him told him exactly what losing him would do to her.

Like he didn't already know.

"C'mere," he replied, taking her into his arms again, burying his face in her neck. God, how he wanted to change this. To stop right now and take her back to bed, make love to her and hold her and let the rest of the damn galaxy go on without them. But the one thing he'd realized as he'd lain awake after what Frasier had shown him last night, was that she was right. Events were events. If he didn't go to Atlantis they'd never know about the Replicator threat. Atlantis was the gateway to Earth. He couldn't let those damn bugs back here, no matter what the cost. There was no standing order to nuke the city in case something like this happened…but there would be by the time he left for the Pegasus Galaxy that morning. Still. There had to be a way to change the future he'd seen. Frasier had told him there was, and he trusted her.

He kissed Sam. Maybe this would be for the last time; maybe not. God, he hoped not. But if it was, he wanted to remember it. The hunger of her lips, the feel of her hand on his cheek, the warmth and softness of her body. How she smelled. How she tasted. Things he'd never paid that close attention to before he seared into his mind. He needed to know them. To remember them. They would be his strength when the time came.

o-o-o-o

She had run back for one more thing before they left the house. It was now or never. He was running out of time. She looked up at him and flashed him a smile as she tucked the missing folder into her briefcase. Okay. Now.

"Sam…you know…you're not the only one who worries."

So, maybe not the most eloquent opening. Still, he could tell it had taken her by surprise. She smiled again.

"I know," she answered, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. Great. Now when he was trying to be serious she was the one who was treading lightly.

"And, uh…" he winced a little and studied the floor. Why couldn't he just feel what he wanted to say and she'd understand? Words were too damn hard. "If anything ever happened to you…."

He risked a glance. Okay…that had gotten her attention. Her eyes were welling with tears.

"I'd have Mitchell's ass," he concluded. Damn it! He could have kicked himself. The most important thing he needed to say and he just couldn't stop the smartass stuff. Maybe Frasier was right. Maybe he was afraid.

Yeah. Well. He'd never let fear stop him before. At least not when it really mattered.

And this really mattered.

Still, Sam was grinning. She'd actually laughed.

"Should I tell him that?" she asked lightly.

"I already have," Jack replied, recalling a little aside he'd had with Mitchell on one of his visits to the SGC shortly after Sam had returned to SG-1. Sam never knew, and if the look on her face were any indication, she still didn't believe him.

But he was running out of time. When Sam reached over to pick her keys off the entryway table he intercepted her hand.

"I'd die," he said simply, his eyes dark and serious meeting her own. From the look she gave him, she understood. There was no kidding now. No light-hearted joking. He meant it. And she knew he meant it.

"Me too," she replied quietly, holding his gaze for a few more moments.

"So—be careful, huh?" he told her, letting her hand go.

"Yeah. You too." Her voice was quiet, restrained.

Neither of them moved.

"See you in about a week, then," said Jack. No! He screamed at himself. Do it! Time is up!

Sam nodded, but still seemed unable to walk away.

"I suppose we should…go?" he asked. He couldn't separate his eyes from hers. God, they were beautiful. He burned them into his memory too. Just in case.

"They hate it when you're late," she replied, still rooted to the spot.

"Yeah, I know. Did I mention that I love you?"

There. He'd said it. Said it out loud. And now she knew.

He could see Sam catch her breath. Yeah…she sure hadn't seen that one coming.

"Wow," she replied, stunned. "That's…that's…."

"Not what you expected?" he offered. A wonderful relief flowed over him. He'd said it. Now things would be different. Maybe. But even if they weren't, he'd have no regrets. There was nothing left unspoken anymore. Except maybe one more thing.

"Yeah…" she said, still looking as if she couldn't believe she had heard him right.

Jack nodded. It was easier now. So easy he couldn't believe he hadn't done it before.

"So. Marry me."

The look on her face was priceless. Another memory. Another brick in that replicator-proof wall.

"What?"

Jack froze a moment. A fissure of doubt appeared in his mind. It had never occurred to him. What if she said no?

Jack found himself studying the floor again.

"Look, I'm really horrible at this stuff," he confessed. Taking a deep breath and looking up at her, he tried one more time. "I love you. Will you marry me?"

He wasn't sure how to read the reaction on her face now. Part shock…part bemusement…part…he swallowed hard. Was it maybe pity?

"You ask me now?" Okay. Maybe more disbelief than pity. Jack relaxed a little and shrugged.

"Is there a better time?" He went for disingenuous. It worked. A huge grin spread across Sam's face as she shook her head in obvious disbelief. Jack let out the breath he realized he'd been holding. That had gone…okay. Especially the part where she was stepping over to him and kissing him. Again. This time on the lips. For a very, very, very long time.

Running out of air, at last, they parted…but only a few inches. He felt her hand ruffle his hair on the back of his head as she grinned at him.

"No, there isn't. And yes. I will."

The kiss had pretty much answered it for him already, but there was something about hearing the words come from her mouth that made Jack realize that she had actually said yes.

"Really?" He knew he sounded surprised. He couldn't help it. If he was right about this, he had just saved their future. That thought alone nearly overwhelmed him. Not something he needed to share right now. Time for something more in keeping with what she'd expect.

"Great! Okay, let's go to work."

He picked up his keys and opened the door, smiling to himself at Sam's dumbfounded look as she walked past him. As he went to pull the door shut behind him, he glanced upward and smiled.

"Thanks, Jacob. I owe you one."