Out of Time
Epilogue
Golden sunlight dances in her hair. A smile reaches her eyes for the first time in months. Her laughter comes freely and unreserved.
And Jack. His name. His given name. Spoken in her voice, aloud, to him.
And he can call her Sam.
No ranks. No chain of command. No regulations. Not here. Not now. Not any more.
Watching her drift away from him over the past year has been hell. Torture. Worse than torture. But he thought it was what was best for her, and so he'd let her go.
But then she'd come back. That day in his backyard, she'd stood there, saying nothing but yet saying everything. And his carefully crafted world had turned upside down again, just as it had the day she'd first walked into his life.
Except this time he'd done something about it.
And now here they are.
Fourteen months ago the old man had stood on the deck and offered him a glimpse into his future. He'd never had a chance to say yes or no. But it didn't matter anyway. That future…whatever it was…no longer existed. They'd changed it. Fixed it. Re-done it. Whatever. He'll never be that bitter creature who would say what he'd said, or do what he'd done. The old man had saved him from that. And saved himself in the process.
He knows he'll never completely understand what had happened to him. What he's been spared. He doesn't want to. It's enough to know that what they did all those months ago to change the future was worth it. Especially if it means he can sit here on this beautiful summer day beside her, simply enjoying her presence.
A splash. Her line goes in again. A click on the reel and the slow hum as she winds it back up.
They'd settled a few things on the drive up. Like names.
Tonight they would settle a few more.
He'd told her always, and he'd meant it. Now, at least, they have an always to look forward to.
She casts her line again.
This is great, she says.
He looks at her.
I told ya.
She smiles.
I can't believe we didn't do it years ago.
He glances her way again. She looks happy. Relaxed. An ankle hooked over one knee. Their bodies almost touch. He'd kiss her now if he hadn't heard Teal'c and Daniel just pull up in the driveway. But that can wait. There is no rush. Not any more.
He's had enough of time conundrums for now. He's content with the present. After all that has happened, to be here in this moment, with her, is the only thing he wants—the only thing he needs.
Yes. Well. Let's not dwell.
Their eyes meet. They have an understanding.
There is an inherent blessing in that. A profound relief. A welcomed respite.
It is…peace.