Sam was curled up on the couch in her big, empty house. She was clutching her third beer in one hand and box of Kleenex in the other. When her doorbell rang, she didn't bother getting up to see who it was. She didn't want to talk to anyone.
Before she knew it, Jack was standing in front of her.
"How you'd get in?" She tried to sound angry, but what with all the alcohol and tears, she couldn't quite manage it.
"I picked the lock."
"Of course you did." She rolled her eyes and took another swig of beer.
Jack seated himself in a chair across from her. "I'm not gonna ask if you're ok, because I know you're not. So tell me what's wrong."
"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed.
"I could make that an order, Major."
"Right now, sir, I couldn't care less."
"I know. That's why I'm not going to. But I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
Sam sighed in defeat. She could be pretty stubborn when she wanted to be, but her CO was infinitely more so. "I think I'm cursed. When it comes to relationships, I mean. Martouf...and Narim...and Lantash. It's like something's out to get me. Everybody who likes me winds up dead."
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
Sam sighed. "I guess, but you and I both know, sir," she emphasized, "that whatever we feel, we don't have anything. We can't." She took a long sip of her beer. "You really don't have to stay, Colonel. I'll be all right."
"I'm sure you will, but I don't abandon my people when they need me."
Sam nodded. "You want a beer?"
"Sure."
Sam forced herself off the couch and to the fridge. She handed Jack his beer and flopped back down. They spent the rest of the night sitting across from each, not talking, just being there, sipping their beers and eventually, their coffees.
Once it struck 0700, Jack got up, slowly and stiffly. "Got any Advil, Carter? We're gonna need it."
"Yes, sir," she agreed.
A/N: Set after s5e16 'Last Stand'.