Hi all
I promised I wouldn't keep you waiting too long, so here is Part 2. Enjoy!
Su
Staking a Claim Part 2
See Part 1 for disclaimer and other information
Waking from her dream with a start, Carter realized the sound she thought was part of the dream was reality. She glanced at the clock and wondered who the hell was knocking on her door at this time of night – actually, morning but it was a few hours until dawn.
Then she heard the voice. His voice. Loud and belligerent. She had believed that to be part of her dream too. However, this was no dream. Undisputedly her CO was at her front door, apparently close to knocking it down.
Hastily, she leapt from the bed and pulled on a bathrobe. He was going to wake her neighbors and that really would not be a good thing. Damn it, was this something so urgent that he couldn't even call?
When she opened her door a few moments later, she understood. Sobriety was a whole continent away. Too late to stop him from waking her neighbors Carter realized when she noticed a few lights on in the street and twitches of curtains. Sam wondered how long he had been knocking and shouting before she woke up.
"Sir, you're drunk!" she exclaimed. He was beaming at her inanely and she suppressed a titter, frowning instead.
"Drunk? Me?" he replied with a slur. "I don't get drunk, Carter." She looked pissed with him and Jack couldn't imagine why. "What…?"
Very aware of those wakeful, watchful neighbors, she grabbed his arm. "You'd better come in!" She tugged and he fell through the door. "Oh, for Christ's sake!" Sam rolled her eyes as O'Neill slumped against her hallway wall, quickly pushing the door closed behind him.
"What the hell…?" she started to ask, taken aback when her CO started to giggle. Or it was as close to a giggle as she had ever heard him come. The general really was not the giggling type. He must be very drunk indeed, she thought, and wondered what to do with him.
"Hi, Carter," he warbled. Now he was warbling? Sam was beginning to think she was still back in bed and this was all part of her dream. He could barely stand and seemed about to slide down her wall imminently.
"Get your ass into the living room, airman!" she barked, hoping the command would snap him to it. Instead, he just giggled again.
"I sooo love it when you get bossy," he said. "Y-you can be the boss of me any day." Then he grasped her and pulled her close and the astonished Sam furrowed her eyebrows with amazement.
"How much have you been drinking, sir?" She was of thinking stomach pumps and similar unpleasantries, imaging having to call an ambulance or the SGC. That would be extremely embarrassing for both of them, especially the general.
"How much?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Who's counting? I've been drinking. So what?"
"Do you know what time it is?"
O'Neill peered at his watch myopically but his vision was blurred. "Um, no. Is it late?"
"More like early."
"Is it too late?" The look he gave her with those words seemed to contradict his drunkenness, his eyes boring into her with uncanny clarity that made her shiver. "Is it?" he asked again.
"Sir?" she queried as if she had no idea what he was referring to.
"Don't do that coy act on me, Carter. You know what I'm talking about."
His eyes continued to drill into her mesmerizingly and she gulped, eyes widening with surprise. Sam suddenly thought she understood why he was there. Now, however, was not the time, not when he was this high. She thought that particular topic deserved a more sober conversation.
"Why don't you come and sit down, sir? I'll get you a coffee."
Jack snorted derisively. "Got any bourbon?"
She pulled away from him. "Follow or stay there. Makes no difference to me." Smirking, she turned and walked into her living room.
"Carter?" Jack called after her with a tinge of pathos, struggling to balance and then staggering along the hall. "Hey, don't we have this thing about leaving people behind?" he added, lurching through the doorway of her living room. Sam laughed, moving to help him.
"I think you'd better sit down, sir," she replied taking his arm and steering her wobbly CO to the couch. "Sit."
With her gentle encouragement he sunk down onto the plumped up cushions, leaning at a lopsided angle and propping himself up the couch's arm. Sam breathed a sigh of relief at her achievement. At least now he was sitting he was less likely to fall and injure himself.
"Bourbon?" he asked again hopefully.
Thinking again about coffee and then wondering if he should simply sleep it off, the amused Sam stepped back, hands on hips and eying her CO with mock reproach. "I think water might be more appropriate," she said, thinking anything that might keep him awake could be a bad thing. Jack motioned at her disdainfully.
"You have got to be kidding," he responded.
"Don't have any alcohol in the house, sir," she lied. The last thing her CO needed was another drink.
"Are you bullshitting me, Carter? You really think I believe that?" he sneered, a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone.
"Okay, then. My house, my rules," she said firmly.
"Aw, Carter…!" he whined. "You should be more hospitable to your guests, you know that?"
"I don't recall inviting you, general," Sam retorted, grinning idiotically.
His drunken state amused her but, more than that, she knew why he was there. She was about to leave his chain of command. In fact, Sam had planned on doing something like this before leaving. Not turn up on his doorstep drunk, of course, but something. Like letting him know she still had feelings for him. She'd been pondering it for a while now - ever since agreeing to take that assignment outside of the SGC. It was time; seriously overdue. Their time, or that's what she hoped.
What with her father dying, splitting up with Pete and her work, Sam had been a little preoccupied of late. A lot had changed and continued to and she actively sought much of that transformation. It was time for that too, though Sam certainly had never intended to leave Jack out of the equation. She wanted him in her life and had decided to find out if he wanted to be in hers.
In all honesty, Sam believed he did want that. Sure, he had never tried to come between her and Pete but she got it. Nor had he ever clarified his feelings for her and she got that too. The small things he did, the way he could look at her sometimes for instance, encouraged her to believe he would pursue her if he was in a position to. Shortly, he would be in that position and she was free now to give it a shot.
There were no guarantees they would work as a couple and probably many reasons to think they might not. Relationships never come with a warranty, which doesn't mean you don't try to forge them. If she didn't even try, Sam knew she'd regret it. This had not been the only reason she had broken her engagement with Pete. When she had done that there was no reason to assume her relationship with O'Neill could or would change. It was, however, one of her reasons.
Then she had acted to make that change possible. Again, this was not the only reason for taking the job at Area 51 but it was one of them. Sam understood that long-distance relationships could be difficult to maintain. Nonetheless, all the time she stayed as close to Jack at the SGC their situation remained totally hopeless. Someone had to make the first move.
She was surprised it was him; making that move by turning up here, albeit smashed. Sam had presumed he never would. Not because he didn't want to but because she had mostly been the one to make certain they kept a distance from each other.
Sam suspected Jack might have been willing. Not necessarily to break those darned Regulations but he might have found a way if she had given him that choice. Jack retiring; her moving to a different team; whatever. There had been options but neither of them had been willing to pursue them.
He would never have risked her career even if he might have been prepared to jeopardize his. Sure, he'd asked her to the cabin a couple of times. As friends of course, although Sam thought something more might have happened if she had accepted those invitations. However, she declined, largely because of that "something more" she feared. He'd made his feelings clear with a look or a touch. Meanwhile, she had tried to stay strictly hands-off. It was hard saying no all the time. Especially to someone you wanted.
Nor had either of them wished to break up SG-1. They loved their jobs, the team, everything about working together. Now his promotion meant SG-1 as they had known it was gone anyway. Though they still worked well together, the three friends on the team and Jack back in the mountain getting them home. The team might have changed but this didn't make it any easier to contemplate dismantling their working lives.
Then there was Pete. Poor Pete. She'd made a mistake, although an enjoyable one at the time, and she'd hurt him. Sam regretted that. No one sets out to break someone's heart on purpose, or certainly not her. She'd hurt Jack too, had noticed the pain lingering in his eyes.
Sam didn't like herself very much for having done that. Her CO had tried to hide those injured feelings but she knew they existed. Jack had understood, she was sure he genuinely had. Understanding does not necessarily reduce the pain. She regretted that too. They say you always hurt the ones you love and she loved both of those men in her own way so knew it was true.
Since splitting with Pete, the thought of a relationship with Jack had been there. Hell, the thought had always been lurking in the background somewhere. Their trip to the cabin with Daniel and Teal'c had given that thought even more prominence in her mind. Those few days would count among the good times despite her dad's recent death. They certainly had been inspiring, prompting Sam with an urge to change her life. She'd done that alright.
In a few days, a vast distance might stand between them, but nothing more than that. Not if she had her say. It seemed he was thinking along the same lines.
Distance seemed like nothing compared to the Regulations and the working relationship that had kept them apart for as long. Not that it would necessarily be easy to pursue romance with her former CO. Sam was sure there would be other obstacles. She had a few doubts and presumed he did too. That was a no-brainer. The biggest impediment, however, would vanish.
She never doubted they should try, though. She very much wanted to try.
"Thought I'd surprise ya," O'Neill drawled in response to her comment about him being an uninvited guest.
"Oh, you did that alright, sir," she retorted acerbically although Jack could see from her expression that he amused rather than irritated her. "But you're welcome anytime. You know that."
Peering at her and seeing double, a creepy reminder of multiple Carters, he arched his eyebrows. "Am I? Do I?"
"Sure." She nodded, smiling warmly and he grinned back.
"Good to know," he stated, once again briefly seeming more sober than he had.
"I'll get that water," she said hastily, made slightly self-conscious by his incisive gaze. Before he could reply, she disappeared and returned a few moments later with a couple of glasses, placing one in front of him and sipping the other.
"I'm never sure about drinking something fish have been swimming in," he said eyeing the glass suspiciously.
"Thought you liked fish, sir," she quipped and he smiled.
"I love 'em, Carter. The water they swim in is another matter. They crap in it you know." He said it as if revealing an ancient previously undisclosed wisdom and she chuckled.
"I think they clean it before it gets to the faucet, sir."
He stared at the glass again, this time picking it up and examining the clear liquid within.
"Really?" he queried with a tinge of mockery in his tone. Then he took a few large gulps, emptying the glass and putting it down again. "Ah!" he sighed, smacking his lips. "Delicious!" He glanced at Sam with a smirk on his lips and flopped back into the comfort of the couch, rubbing his eyes. "Tell me there aren't really two of you."
Sam laughed. "One of me quite enough, eh, sir?"
"One of you might be more than I can handle."
"Oh, I seriously doubt that, Jack."
Eyes snapping open, O'Neill lifted his head and looked at her with surprise. "Jack?"
Sam shrugged in response, saying nothing and meeting his eyes with the kind of self-assurance he'd only ever seen before in a work environment. She stared at him unwaveringly in a manner that left him in no doubt about what was on her mind.
Stunned, Jack felt obliged to drop his gaze, vaguely thinking he should reprimand her, insist she refer to him by his rank, call him sir, be more respectful, but he didn't. Instead, her unexpected brazen informality served to fuel his intentions.
"Right, about that…" he started when Sam cut him off.
"Not now, Jack. It's not the right time."
"Never is, is it?" he said sounding regretful.
"What I mean is you're drunk. I'd prefer you weren't if we're going to have that conversation."
"That conversation?" he retorted, emphasizing his words with gesticulated quotes and looking back up at her again. "Who said anything about conversation?"
Winking, Jack grinned but, feeling a little lightheaded, he rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes again, unable to see her smiling response.
"Room's spinning," he slurred and Sam got up and went to him, sitting on the couch by his side.
"You okay?" she asked with concern.
"Not really."
"I'll go make up the spare room," she suggested but he shook his head, making himself feel even dizzier.
"Think… stay here just… little… longer… go home," he murmured.
She snorted, tickled by the notion that he believed himself capable of getting home.
"Just stay for a…" he said, trailing off before completing his sentence.
Sam watched him fondly for some moments, knowing he was asleep when he started snoring gently. Smiling, she took one of his hands in hers and squeezed.
"Goodnight, Jack. We'll have that conversation in the morning." Then she leaned toward him and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Tomorrow," she whispered, getting up and going to find a bedcover to keep him warm.
When Sam came back, she tried to make him more comfortable by removing his sneakers and throwing the cover over him. She was tempted to try maneuvering him into a different position by lifting his legs onto the couch, instead deciding not to risk disturbing him.
'Let him sleep it off,' she thought, returning to her chair to sit and watch him doze. She no longer felt particularly tired. 'Trust Jack to wake me up and then fall asleep himself.'
She felt no resentment, though, but something akin to a sense of rightness and peace. Gee, were they really going to have that conversation in the morning? Sam hoped Jack didn't try to avoid it once he'd sobered up. He wouldn't, she decided, because she was not going to let him.
Having made up her mind about that, Sam continued to scrutinize him for quite a while. Sleep made him look serene. She supposed it did most everyone. He was such a handsome man, beautiful in his own way, although he'd sneer if she ever used that word to describe him.
Not only was he good-looking, but she liked many aspects of his character. Darkness lurked beneath the surface, sure, and she'd seen it raise its ugly head a number of times, suspecting there was more where that came from too.
There wasn't necessarily anything wrong with that darkness. It didn't count in itself. The way a person used it was what mattered. Sometimes it was a requirement of his job and Jack probably couldn't have lived through some of the bad things without blacker elements tainting him. Those aspects of him were exhilarating and, fundamentally, she knew he was a good and honorable man.
Yes, Jack was a good man, possibly a great one. Sam considered herself too biased to make that judgment. She enjoyed his humor and wit, playfulness and caring softer nature as much as she admired his guts, determination and courage.
Sometimes, he could take all of those things too far and they were just as much defects as they were admirable. That was the nature of humankind, though, not just Jack O'Neill. Everyone has faults and contradictory natures.
Jack was not a straightforward person and Sam didn't want it any other way. His very complexity and ambiguities appealed to her. He was what he was and she believed she loved the man flaws and all.
He stirred, interrupting her thoughts, and his slight shift in position made him snore louder. It wasn't the most attractive of traits in anyone although Sam knew the booze made it worse. The sound developed into a noise that would drive any sane woman into the spare bedroom before it sent her insane.
"Time for bed," she grumbled to herself getting up. "Love you and leave you, Jack," she whispered, pausing to rearrange his cover and peck his cheek.
Stopping in the doorway as she was about to leave, Sam turned to glance at him again, smiling affectionately and muttering under her breath. "Tomorrow, I swear."
To be continued in Part 3