Thank you so much to all the reviewers!
This was supposed to be part of the last chapter, but it needed some tweaking, and got longer.
26
Early in the afternoon Jack pulls out a large cast iron Dutch oven and sets about preparing the stew. He puts Sam to work cutting up vegetables, while he cubes the beef and browns it in the pot. The vegetables all go in with the beef, except for the potatoes—you add them near the end, he explains, or they turn to mush—then barley, the can of tomatoes, some rosemary and thyme and a dash of something he won't identify for her, a half cup of red wine, garlic, salt and pepper and water. He seals the pot and puts it in the oven on low heat. You cook it about five hours, he says, then you add potatoes and cook until they are done.
By now it is well past noontime, and they eat grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Despite their energy earlier, they're both sleepy, so they decide a nap is in order; after making love, they sleep soundly. When they wake up it is late afternoon, and the house is filled with the delicious smell of the stew.
Jack checks the oven and adds some water to the pot. Then he produces a bottle of whiskey from a cupboard. Even Sam recognizes the name on the label, and she is no connoisseur of whiskeys.
"This is the really good stuff," Jack says, pouring a little into a glass and handing it to her. "Taste it."
She is surprised how smoothly it goes down, and she accepts the glass of whiskey with water and ice that he fixes for her. They lie down in lounge chairs on the deck and sip the drinks. Half an hour later he gets up and goes in to put the potatoes into the stew; he chops up the tomatoes and leaves them in a bowl to add when it is ready to eat. He has a whiskey while he works, then brings another out for both of them when he comes back. She smiles an extremely sexy smile at him, and he joins her in her chair and they find it is possible to very much enjoy each other even in such cramped quarters. Afterward, they relax and finish their drinks. The sun sinks toward the horizon, and it grows chilly. Sam shivers and cuddles closer to him, and Jack suggests that they go inside. He gathers kindling and papers to build a fire if they need it later.
They settle down on the couch, and make out again for a while, which leaves both of them breathless. Jack gets up and turns off the oven—the stew is done, he says, and will stay hot until they are hungry. He pours himself another drink; she declines. He builds a fire in the fireplace, and they sit and talk of inconsequential things for while and eventually fall silent.
Jack is remembering what he was thinking about as he was cleaning up Carter's kitchen two mornings ago. The realization of how he feels about her. And the question he asked himself then; how much is he willing to give up to have Sam permanently in his life? Today the answer seems easy; anything. After all, what does he have beyond his career in the military? A career that has gotten him what? Months at a time spent away from home; severe injuries on several occasions; capture and torture; a failed marriage; Charlie... he can't go any further with that thought, and takes another large gulp of his whiskey. Forces his mind away. The stargate, and SG-1. Those things are harder to consider giving up. But Daniel and Teal'c will always be his friends. So...the stargate. That will be the most difficult. But he knows he will lose that before too many more years, no matter what. The chronic knee problems; his age and all the things that go with it—slowing reflexes, poorer eyesight, and who knows what else (and somewhere in there pops up the small nagging thought that maybe he is too old for Sam, but he pushes that aside). Within five years those things will sideline him anyway. Even worse, he will probably be promoted, and shoved into a desk job!
Yes, he feels that his career is expendable. He can resign; he has served more than the required years—even for retirement, he only needs twenty.
How should he approach the subject with Sam, though? He knows she will object to his resigning. And how does he know she would even want him if he did? Perhaps all she needs from him is the 'carrot' of a relationship—something just out of reach to fantasize about. If that is the case, he does not really blame her—and his thought comes back to the difference in their ages. And the fact that she is fantastically smart, and incredibly gorgeous...
He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, reaches for his glass.
Despite the relaxing half-haze from the whiskey, Sam has noticed that Jack's mood has changed in the past little while. His expression has grown thoughtful, almost worried. He fidgets, gets up and moves around, comes back to the couch and sits down at the far end, and she wonders what is bothering him. He is clearly nervous about something, and this sets off her alarms; she thought things were going so well between them...
He finishes his drink and finally begins in a rush. "We need to talk, Carter…Sam. About what happened—the planet and the dreams and the rest of it. And I apologize in advance, cause I don't do 'talk' so well, you know that, and I know I'm gonna botch it up so please be patient and don't make up your mind until I'm finished. Please." This rather incoherent outburst has her staring at him with wide eyes, confused and apprehensive. He sees this and curses, throwing his hands up in the air. "Crap! See, I've already screwed it up, and…and I haven't even started yet! Dammit Carter! Don't look so scared!"
He slides over toward her. "Come here." She turns to him and he puts his arms around her, enfolding her, leaning in to hold her tight; she has the feeling he is seeking some comfort from her as well as trying to give it, so she slips her arms around him and pulls him in close.
God! She feels so good in his arms! And what small plan he had for approaching this subject is forgotten. He turns his face into her hair, and his mouth is near her ear; he kisses her hair, and her ear and whispers, "You know you're the most important thing in my life, don't you, Sam? I love you so much…"
She hangs on to him for dear life, hardly able to believe what she has just heard; she gives a big gulp, and tears fill her eyes, and start to run down her cheeks. "I… I love you, too, Jack… more than anything…" Her voice is hoarse and muffled against his shoulder, and she's afraid he can't even hear her.
"Oh my God—are you crying, Carter? Please, don't be crying! I don't want to make you cry…" His voice sounds like he is close to weeping himself; he must have had quite a bit more to drink than she realized because he is slurring in his agitation as he kisses her forehead and her eyes and tries to wipe her tears away with his hands. "C'mon… please stop," he begs. "I shouldn't'a carried on like that. I'm sorry, Sam… I didn't mean to scare you."
Now she's laughing and crying at the same time, trying to make him hush. "Jack… Jack! Shh!" But he's not hearing her, and finally she takes his face in her hands and kisses him hard, completely claiming his mouth with hers and cutting off his words. He is silenced by sheer surprise, and it is a moment before he starts to respond, and even then he stares down into her face, eyes wide.
After a minute Sam pulls back reluctantly and smiles into his eyes. "I love you, too, Jack. Do you hear me? I love you! And I'm not crying because you scared me. I could never be afraid of you! I'm crying because you said you love me!" She sobs once and smiles wider. "We finally said it! Not in some kind of crazy dream, but here, face to face!"
He looks stunned, then ecstatic. His voice drops low as he speaks. "Are you sure I'm not dreamin' now, Sam…?" xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx