Chapter Two: A Lonely Sandwich
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It wasn't hard to track her down, in fact, his feet automatically carried him to the only place he knew he would ever find her. Rapping on the doorframe lightly, he entered her lab before she had a chance to look up from whatever it was she was engrossed in. He noticed the half-eaten sandwich on the table behind her and sighed internally.
"That's the fourth time this week, Carter." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he studied her, waiting for the moment her attentions would shift from her project to him to the sandwich and then back to him. As he watched her go through the predicted motions, he felt a little thrill that he knew her so well. Less than half a year and so much of her was like an open book.
It was the still unreadable parts that intrigued him more than they ought to have.
"Sir?" She blinked once and the guilty look that had been creeping onto her face melted away, her expression perfectly innocent. Man, teenage Carter must have gotten away with so much crap.
"Not gonna work this time." He wagged a finger at her. "The commissary suddenly a little drafty for you?"
The innocent expression disappeared as she shuttered her emotions completely. "I don't know what you mean, sir."
"Uh-huh." Jack paused, leaning forward on the balls of his feet as he thought about his next approach. He didn't want to force her to talk to him, but something was definitely on her mind and he wanted to be the person that she wanted to talk to. That was okay, right?
Right?
"I'll try this again." Leaning his forearms on her work table, he brought his face close to hers. Ostensibly, to better gauge how truthful she was being, of course. "Why are you avoiding the commissary, Captain?"
Because of his proximity, he heard her breath catch. But, other than that, she didn't flinch. "I'm not, sir. I just figured my time would be better served if I could eat and work at the same time." To emphasize her point she splayed her hands over the many itty bitty pieces of the…whatever it was she was working on.
"That makes sense, captain." He leaned back, but didn't totally move out of her personal sphere. He waited for the moment when she would smile, when she'd thought she'd won—ah! there it was—and pounced. "Except, I know for a fact that there is nothing pressing on your agenda between now and the mission tomorrow."
Sam had the decency to look at least a little chastised before her cheeks colored and an indignant air lifted her shoulders. "I do have other projects besides what we find offworld, sir."
"Oh, I know that." He waved his hand airily. "But that," He indicated the mechanical mess, "Is a toaster, Carter."
Now her cheeks really flushed. Something that Jack tried desperately not to notice because if he did…if he noticed, well, he would just have to make it his life's mission to figure out all the ways he could intentionally make that blush appear.
She mumbled something that sounded distinctly like "traitor" and Jack was loath to find out if she meant him or the toaster. So he would just assume it was the latter.
"Be nice to the toaster, Carter. It's seen better days." He grinned when she scowled at him. "Give it up, Sam." He said it causally enough, flippantly even…but her eyes jerked to his in surprise.
"S-sir?" She stuttered and Sam cursed herself inwardly. She had been doing so well…
Jack didn't say anything, just held his ground and waited. He'd thrown her off, that much was clear, but just how much remained to be seen. He saw the moment she relented, the corners of her mouth turned down the slightest bit and her eyes dimmed, drifting to look at something near his left shoulder.
"It's really nothing, sir."
"Now, I have to disagree, captain."
Sam looked back at him, a determined glint in her eye. "Just my own insecurities, colonel. It's nothing new and I'll get over it."
He didn't respond for a long moment, mulling her words over. Objectively, he couldn't figure out what the hell his captain could be insecure about. He knew he was biased but…well, he couldn't find any faults. But-and here's where that "humble beyond belief" bit came into play—he knew that she didn't see any of what he did in her.
"Doesn't look like nothing, Carter. In fact, it looks a lot like a lonely tuna fish sandwich."
A quick grin flashed across her face, breaking her grim veneer. "Chicken salad, actually."
"Ah." He reached around her and plucked the lonely half sandwich from the plate. Eyes never leaving her face he took a slow bite, watching her watch him. He knew that his little antic would get a reaction, but he was not expecting the flash of something deeper- something more vulnerable and dark—before she schooled her expression.
"Hey!"
"Well, it was lonely." He winked at her—again that flash in her eyes. "Don't worry, you can just go up and get another—oh, wait! You can't because we're in your lab, not the commissary."
Sam squeezed her eyes closed, as much to stop herself from rolling eyes as so that he wouldn't see again exactly what effect he could have on her. It was highly inappropriate and it didn't exactly help her case that she wanted to be seen as "one of the guys" if she was constantly eye-sexing her CO.
"Which brings me back to my original question: why aren't we in the commissary?" Peeking out from under her lashes, Sam knew he wasn't going to let this go.
Sighing heftily, Sam put on as indifferent an air as possible. "If you must know, sir, I'm just a little sick of everyone talking behind my back. I'm used to it, but I thought—I hoped- it was different here." She bit off the rest of her words, afraid that she was leaning too far into whining territory.
When Sam looked back at her CO, she was surprised to find that he was completely still…not even his fingers twitched. Suddenly worried that she may have just opened a rather large can of worms, she stumbled over her words, trying—and failing- to backtrack. "I mean, not everyone. And nothing really bad, you know. I'm sure it's just the usual 'girl in a man's uniform' thing or something similar, but actually," Here she laughed awkwardly, "I'm sure I imagined it. But, you're right, I should eat in the commissary."
With that, she nodded abruptly and made to hop off her stool—she would spend the whole night in the commissary if it got her out from under his shrewd gaze—when she was stopped by two hands on her shoulders.
Gently, he pushed her back onto her stool. "People are going to talk, Carter."
She smiled brightly. "I know, sir. I'm sorry, I think maybe I'm just tired or hungry prob-,"
"But you aren't the only one listening."
"Wh—what?" That made Sam pause.
"You think I don't hear what people say about you—all of SG-1?" He quickly amended.
"Of course you do, sir." Sam winced. Now was not the time to be offending the man trying to extend an olive branch on behalf of the SGC. In truth, it was only in the last few months that she'd really started to let her guard down around him. They hadn't gotten off to the greatest start, but Sam was now wholly convinced that he saw her for exactly what she was.
A member of his team.
Awesome.
"Carter." He waited until reluctant blue eyes met his. "Those wagging tongues aren't saying what you think they are." Sam narrowed her eyes slightly, suddenly suspicious. Jack just barely managed to swallow the chuckle that threatened to burst forth when she looked at him like that. Her features were swept up in a battle between doubting him and knowing that she technically wasn't supposed to doubt him.
He let her stew a moment longer before letting her in on the now long-running secret. "They're fighting over you, captain." He watched her eyes widen. "Every single SG team leader has asked me if they could "borrow" you for a mission or two." His air quotes dripped with disdain. "Greedy little buggers."
Sam quirked an eyebrow, processing everything he'd just told her. "Doesn't sound like they're the greedy ones, sir."
"Fair point. But what can I say? I'm a guy who knows what he wants." Jack didn't need the sudden saucer-like size of Sam's eyes to tell him he'd just put his foot firmly in his mouth. "Uh, a colonel who knows what his team needs."
Suddenly, Sam was beaming. She literally couldn't help it. Trying to stop it—or even tone it down in the slightest—was like trying to catch bees with vinegar…or whatever. "Right. Of course."
So. People were talking about her. But, if he was telling the truth, they weren't disparaging her for her gender or her schooling. They were trying to nab her for their own benefit! Sam had to admit she selfishly wished her academy class could see her now.
She also kind of wished they could see who she was with now. Well, not with with…
Man. She really was not helping her 'Joan of Arc' issues.
"Earth to Carter." Jack waved a hand in front of her face. "Where'd ya go?"
Sam briefly considered telling him her fantasy of finally allaying long-harbored growing pains, but ultimately decided she'd done enough sharing for the moment. "Someplace with food."
"Now you're talking my language." He grinned when she laughed softly. Stepping back for the first time since he'd entered her lab, he offered her the crook of his elbow. "Since that toaster seems sufficiently put in its place, what's say we head topside? I know a little place with pizza that'll knock your socks off." And only her socks. Yup. Socks. Nothing else. Unless someone were to spill sauce all over her lap—no! No, just socks.
"My sandwich didn't do it for you, colonel?" She ignored his half-hearted glare as she shut off her table lamp and, after hesitating for only a second, looped her arm through his.
He tugged her down the corridor, afraid that she would change her mind. He was playing with fire, he knew. He really shouldn't be taking her out to eat, or if he was, he really should be asking Daniel and Teal'c to come too…but he didn't want to.
Luckily, his second in command didn't seem too eager to invite the others either. Or was he reading into that too much?
Oh, well. He'd take what he could get.
As they made their way to the surface, arms still connected, Jack couldn't help but do that silent gloating thing he'd gotten so good at. Out of everyone on base, he was the one who could make her blush. He was the one who made her nose scrunch when she tried not to smile.
His was the arm she allowed to support her's.
Oh, yeah. He knew exactly how lucky he was.
The End
A/N: I hope you liked it!