Never Say Never
Chapter Nine
Sam snuggled into the strong warm arms of her dream lover. The patter of rain on the roof and soft glow of an oil lamp from the bedside table wakened her. Lying on her side she shifted her head, the headache had eased. When she focused on the lamp she only saw one. That aside, she remained clueless as to who she was, let alone where. Wherever this was, electricity was not part of the package.
She shifted and fingered the oversized flannel shirt covering her naked body. Okay, this was strange or not? And then she felt him. Felt his forearm tighten about her ribs beneath her breasts, and urge her back against his naked muscled chest, so they spooned. A similar scenario flickered across the windmills of her mind. Sam stiffened, but didn't pull away when his long muscular leg draped across her hip and locked itself in place. Amazing how they fit together. Sam felt a brief's covered, male groin press into her lower back and almost lost it. Not because of fear, but because the flaccid body part attached to that groin stirred feeling in her long suppressed. She'd not known a man intimately in years. Her mind searched for recollection and for one frightening moment she remembered the painful shame of being raped, but that vanished. Somehow, she knew that horrible experience wasn't associated with this man or place.
Sam became aware minute things. His leg hairs were not coarse, but pleasurable soft against her skin to the point it almost tickled. His breath fanned her ear and she could detect the scent of menthol cigarettes. She had an immediate memory overload of a conversation with a faceless man. She felt intense love for him but she was upset he'd start to smoke.
"I thought you quit smoking!"
"Did. But this pregnancy has me unnerved."
"Well smoking's not going to help our baby or your lungs, Scarecrow."
"Hey, they're menthol lights."
"So?"
"They're less addictive."
"Oh, pleeze!"
"Hey, could be worse. My poisons of choice are Camels, Marlboros, Winstons—even better, a nasty Cuban cigar."
She snorted and rolled her eyes.
"Excuse me. What's so funny?"
"You're smoking sissy cigs." She hugged herself laughing. "It just, well, I never . . .," she guffawed. "Man, wish we had a camera. Oh, wait we do!" She motioned to go get it.
"Nice to know you're easily amused." He'd sounded sardonic.
"Only by my bad-ass General. Now hand over that pack of poison."
"No!" he whined.
"Fine. Then'll I'll email everyone at the Pentagon, including the President and tell them you smoke sissy cigs."
"You wouldn't."
"Would."
"Carter!"
"What?"
"I'm tossing the cigs." She watched him pitch the pack in the garbage.
"For good?"
"Fine. I won't light up again unless . . ."
"What?" she countered.
"You ever leave me, Dorothy."
"Deal, Scarecrow. 'Sides, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me for always."
"Sweet."
Sam blinked and opened her eyes. Was that her memory? She'd no idea. And who was this man who coincidently smoked menthols. Sam discerned that they shared a pillow and then realized his left arm was bent beneath the feather-filled cushion, his fingers interlaced with hers, while her head inclined on his comfortable shoulder. Her bed partner nuzzled his bristled jaw against the back of her neck. It tickled. She tried not to laugh, or move.
"Sleep," he murmured against her earlobe, then kissed her pulse point. The brush of his dry lips against her skin sent a delicious shock wave right to her womanhood. Sam commanded her body to not respond. His grip eased and the rhythm of his hot moist breath caressing her skin turned into a soft masculine snore that seemed as right and familiar as being in this king size goose-down covered bed.
She felt like she was floating on a cloud and the man holding her possessively . . . her mind reached out as if . . .this was foolish, but she thought to hear him speak in her head. Such idiotic thoughts she had. Again there was something identifiable about this situation. She remembered the handsome rugged face of the man who'd she'd awakened to find at her beside. This must be him.
Masculine, she sighed in her thoughts. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew from the skin that caressed hers, there was nothing soft about this man. He was lean, long limbed and muscular. Feeling safe in his embrace, Sam decided tomorrow would be soon enough to discover the identity of the man holding her as if she were delicate porcelain. Besides that, it'd been so long since she'd slept in a real bed snuggled beneath layers of warm down comforters. Everything felt and smelled identifiable, especially the scent of the man holding her. As sleep enveloped her, Sam thought, there's no place like home, no place like home.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSss
Sam smelled bacon. Impossible. Rolling over, she yawned and stretched, then realized the male occupant had left. Still she wasn't alone. Slowly cracking her eyelids, she focused on two small bodies in the oversized bed. One attached to either side of her.
A child nestled against Sam's chest. She glanced down and spotted curly brown hair and the cutest feminine face ever. On the other side of the girl was a boy with spiky brown hair, who appeared somewhat younger, but bearing similar facial features but with freckles. Sam's left foot poked out from the sheets and received wet licks. It couldn't be! She focused as the large German Shepard mix stretched the width of the bed, lifted a lazy eyelid, looked at her and gave her foot another slobber.
"Thor!" she announced, waking everyone in the bed as she shot upright. Sam fell backward when the dog leaped on top of her, all one-hundred-plus pounds of well-fed canine. "Ouch!"
The girl nuzzled up against Sam woke-up as did the boy. They gazed at her with the largest eyes ever, but neither appeared disturbed or frightened. One pair blue the other the darkest brown.
"Daddy, she's up." The brown-eyed boy announced rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching out alongside Sam while petting the dog's head.
"About fricking time." The man answered in a familiar tenor and a few seconds later he stepped into the room.
Pushing Thor off of her, Sam's turned her head toward the masculine voice. Her mouth dropped open at the tall, lean man occupying the doorway. Her handsome silver fox lived, but not exactly as she'd imagined. Dressed in worn knee-holed jeans and a paint splattered white t-shirt, he held a wiggling toddler and a batter-caked spatula. And he was barefoot. Big feet. Hmm, that meant . . .
"How ya feeling?" He adjusted the child against his tilted hip as if it were second nature.
"Okay," she whispered hoarsely. "I guess." Her gaze fixed on the toddler trying to grab the spatula from the man's hand.
"Hey, kids." Jack addressed the wide-eyed children looking at her like she had broccoli between her teeth. "Chows on. Blueberry pancakes." He waggled his dark brows.
"Cool." The boy chortled as he and the girl kissed Sam's cheek, hopped off the bed and tugged up oversized pj's. They raced on the slick hardwood floor toward the silver-haired man, who dodged them with fluid steps. "Careful." He warned, but appeared unruffled by their antics.
"Um, sorry about that." He walked into the bedroom. "It's a communal bed." He gestured with the spatula. Batter went flying. He didn't notice or seemed not to care. "Just be thankful they didn't invade it first thing last night."
"Oh," was all she could muster as he ambled closer and the child turned in his arms to look at her.
Sam's breath hitched as she looked upon the adorable toddler with unmanageable brown hair and deep brown eyes. "Boy or girl?"
"Which one?" He grinned.
"Huh." She pointed at the child in his arms. Strange images flashed before her mind's eyes. Someone leaning over her telling her the babies needed more oxygen. Sam shuddered and shoved the images aside.
"Oh, this one," He kissed the mound of brownish curls. "Last I checked a boy, the other's a girl."
"Other?" Sam began to tremble and felt nauseas.
"Yeah." He settled on the edge of the bed and perched the toddler on his lap. "They're fraternal twins and will be two and half next week." He looked at her as if she should know that.
"Twins?" She sunk back into the bed, clutching the shirtfront she realized had gapped open, which he did not seem to notice. Or he did a good job hiding the fact. By his deadpan expression, she sensed he had that special black ops quality of someone about to slit her throat. Trouble was she'd never know until it was too late. Black Ops? What had made her think of that?
"This is Jacob." The toddler hung possessively onto his father, then grinned displaying a mouthful of baby teeth. "Sometimes we call him, Jake."
"Brown and blue eyed kids, huh." She offered up, wanting to touch the child, but holding back.
"Yeah runs in the family. But we sorta evened out, your dad had brown eyes like me." He snapped his jaw shut.
"Yes, he did. You know who I am?"
"Yeah. But do you?" He let Jacob lick the remaining batter off the spatula. The toddler made a gleeful sound as he tried to shove the object into his small mouth. His antics made Sam smile and something knotted inside her belly. A maternal ache she didn't think she possessed.
Sam hugged her hurting head with her hands and nodded. "My name is Samantha Carter. I was a major in the USAF. Well, when there was an Air Force."
"You were a full colonel." He stated with authority.
"What?"
"You'd retired, Sam, nearly six years ago and worked as a civilian scientist. Well that is until the invasion and we were both reactivated."
"No, I was always active, well okay, I went civilian and worked at the Pentagon awhile. But I'm no full colonel. And you are?"
"Jack O'Neill." His lips compressed, brows furrowed and the dent between his brows dug deep as those dark chestnut eyes stared, as if willing her to remember. Something told her this man was used to getting his way, no matter what. One problem, she couldn't remember why or what he wanted her to know.
"So that's supposed to mean something to me, you or your name?" She lied of course, as she knew from Daniel this was the Jack O'Neill. She just didn't know he was married or had kids. So why did news make her jealous?
"Hell, Sam! Don't you recognize me?"
"No!" She jerked back at his vulgar tone.
"Crap!" When he dragged a splayed hand through his short-cropped hair, her gaze fastened on his long calloused fingers. She was surprised that his nails appeared clipped and clean. She shivered when an unexpected tingle of pleasure gripped her womanhood as if remembering the intimate touch those fingers . . .
"Mummy." Jacob extended his short pudgy arms to her and squirmed to leave Jack's lap.
"Oy Vey!" Jack's Adam apple bobbed and he sounded surprised but calmer. "I didn't think he'd remember this soon."
"Remember what?" she forced out and the toddler bounded onto the bed, encircled her neck and starred into her eyes, then gave her a pancake batter kiss on her chinbone. Stunned, Sam pulled back and looked into the toddler's trusting brown gaze. Something snapped inside her. An emotional pain that caused her muscles to go taut. The boy leaned forward again and to her utter shock pressed his mouth against her lips and blew into her. Startled she inhaled then eased the child off her. A dizzy sensation washed through her. Her spine tingled. Fragmented images raced through her mind.
"Mummy home." Jacob grinned at her then back at Jack, nodding.
O'Neill's smile flat-lined but he said nothing as he seemed to observe her for some reaction. Not everyday, however innocent, a child kissed her.
Jack stood up and called out, "Hey, T, come here."
His tone made Sam blanche. She knew that voice and the name he'd spoken, T. More confused, she eased from the toddler's grip and handed him back to Jack O'Neill.
Jacob began to whimper. "Mummy!" He tried to get back to her.
Confused and emotionally unhinged by the child's insistence to call her mommy, Sam shook her head and tossed off the covers. She spotted the bathroom and needed to get away. "I'm sorry, but I'm not his mom. I don't have a husband or kids. And I need to umm, pee," her words froze as a large muscled black man entered the room. Sam's gaze riveted on the gold tattoo in the center of his forehead. She'd seen that before, seen him, but where?
"Good morning, Samantha." He tipped his dark haired head as he took little Jacob from Jack. "I am pleased to see you recovering from your fall."
"And you are?"
"You do not remember me, Samantha O'Neill?" Jacob traced the tattoo on the man's brow and giggled, obviously at home in the larger man's embrace.
"No."
His full-lipped smile faded. "That is indeed unfortunate." He ran a comforting wide palm down the child's back then gazed at Jack. "You have not told her, O'Neill?"
"We just started talking—" Jack winced.
"O'Neill, again?" Sam swung her legs over the bed. "You're the one 'he' sent me to locate."
"Crap!" Without another word Jack hurried passed the giant called Teal'c and left. The toddler squirmed in the black man's arms and looked at Sam with the hurtful eyes of one far older than a two-year-old.
"Dadda," the child whined. Teal'c set Jacob on the floor and the toddler tottered in the direction Jack had gone. Sam watched with mixed emotions. Something strong and powerful drew her toward the child and she actually felt upset when he'd fled the room.
"What was that about?" She eased her bare feet to the hard wood floor and the warm rag rug that covered it.
"I fear your presence might endanger us all, Samantha." Teal'c stood with his arms folded behind his back as he stared at her with an intimidating scowl. "I hope I am mistaken."
"Why? You all act as if you know me." She gestured to where Jack had been standing. "Even the baby."
"Indeed." He reached out and assisted her to her feet. "You are Samantha Carter-O'Neill, and Jack is your husband and these wonderful children are blessings of your union. There are six in all."
"Six! No way would I have six children!" Sam gulped as she shuffled into the adjoining bathroom. "You gotta be kidding!"
"I do not kid, Samantha. You have been gone over two years."
"That's a lie!" She slammed the door in his face and finding the toilet she used it, then sat there shaking, sensing she was going to puke.
A few minutes passed and Teal'c asked through the door, "How are you fairing, Samantha?"
"What do you think?" When he didn't answer, she gazed at the open window and the breeze blowing through. She could hear children's voices and laughter and then that of the man named Jack. She wobbled to the window and peered out realizing she was on a second floor. Below, two horses with riders trotted up the gravel drive to the house and halted. A man and woman dismounted. With the morning sun in her eyes, Sam couldn't discern the brown haired man's face but his voice sounded familiar. A younger man in his early twenties greeted them with hugs. The woman of a tall and slender build removed a blue handkerchief scarf and shoulder length auburn hair tumbled down her back.
Sam was about to step away when the woman glanced up at the window and stared at her. Sam's heart jammed into her chest wall. Dark brown eyes stared at her, haunting eyes that matched those of Jack O'Neill. Cassandra! Janet's daughter? No—no, that wasn't right either. Her daughter! Her and Jack's first born! Charlie-Chuck their Retu child. Grace and JJ!
And then she'd given birth again . . ."We've got twins, Sam! A boy and girl!" Jack held the squirming newborn infants and settled them against her breasts so they could suckle and bond. Sam saw the pride and joy in his dark brown eyes and felt his immense love. "They're beautiful like their mother, Samantha," he lisped softly, making sure each child had latched onto her.
"And hungry like their dad," she chided as she felt their strong suckling attempts. Her right hand fluttered across Jack's jaw, feeling his lips press against them and then upward to the scar of his left brow before she habitably finger combed his unruly silver hair.
Together they kissed the crown of each child, bonding with them as a mother and father and as an Ancients, knowing nothing could break that maternal tie especially once . . .Sam was suppose to exchange breath with each child, but refused. She made Jack take the newborns. She'd kissed her husband goodbye. Bright lights flashed, burned her eyes. Her babies wailed. Jack yelled and then nothing but a dark void. Then he came.
"Welcome home, Sam." Fifth smiled evilly as she was held prisoner within the ship's gray metallic walls. "I said I'd come back for you and get even with O'Neill for stealing you from me. I have done so. Now you must decide if I let the Wraith destroy Earth or not. The decision is yours."
Thrown forward in time, Sam stumbled away from the window, knocking over the wastebasket and slumped against the bathtub.
"Colonel O'Neill!" Teal'c forced open the bathroom door and was at her side.
Sam's head felt like a melon ready to blow. She remembered! She was home. She was Mrs. Jonathon James O'Neill!
End of Chapter Nine