Author's Note: This chapter was very difficult to write for several reasons. Without getting too personal, I've been struggling with this emotion. But there are good days and days of inspiration and I finally had enough of them to string together an essay on Sam's happiness. Also, I needed to be able to wrap the story with this chapter if there are any folks that don't want to delve into the sexual part of Sam's healing. So I needed to end the story while not making the next four chapters feel like an extensive epilogue. I hope I've succeeded in a way that can make ALL the readers happy, but I know that's tough to do. Just know that I've done my level best to tell the story I've always intended to tell while still respecting that there are some things that are part of my vision of this story line that others are not comfortable with. It's my little thank you to all those readers who have taken the time to share their thoughts, feelings and personal stories with me. You're all beautiful, wonderful and interesting folks.
She dries dishes while she watches Jack methodically disassemble, clean and reassemble his personal handgun. This is a task he undertakes every other Saturday like clockwork if he's on-world. She likes the way he looks with precision in his hands.
He looks up and catches her eye. A slow grin tugs at the corner of his mouth and draws up into his eyes. "What?"
She cocks out a hip and sets the glass she's drying down on the counter. "What kind of plane did you fly?"
"Thuds first. Then Eagles, mostly."
"My dad flew a Thunderchief, too!" she exclaims.
He returns her smile and winks. "I know," he says as he reinserts the spring and slips the slide back into place. "We had quite a bit of time to kill while you were in the infirmary last year. What did you think we talked about?"
"Well," she hedges, "…me."
"We did our fair share of that, too." He polishes his fingerprints off the barrel.
She hums in the back of her throat and turns back towards the dishes. Suspecting they'd talked about her and learning they really had done so were two different things and she's not quite sure how she feels about it.
"Hey now," he says softly and suddenly she's enveloped in warm arms and the heavy scent of gun oil, "don't get like that. It's not like we were working out a dowry or anything."
She turns in his arms and tucks her face into neck, slides her hands across his shoulder blades, and breathes him in. "It's just strange to think about what people must say about you. And I worry that you argue." He tucks his hands up under the hem of her t-shirt and rests them against the skin of her lower back. She can feel the slight silkiness of the oil and idly thinks it's nice he didn't get it on her shirt.
"Carter," he says slowly, affectionately, "he and I have been known to butt heads, sure, but most of the hard time we give each other is good natured." He tightens his arms around her and rubs his thumbs in the indentation of her spine. "I like your dad." He leans back so he can meet her eyes, "He likes me. We're grown men – we're not going to come to blows over you."
"I guess I've always sort of pictured him finding out about us and rushing to defend my virtue."
"Sam, take it from me – there's nothing like watching your kid make someone happy. And you've made me happy since the day you walked into a briefing room and laid out an entire room of half-cocked chauvinists, me included. I never did a good job of hiding that; I never tried to hide it from your dad."
"But that picture in your wallet…you said he didn't like the way I was looking at you."
"Not because he has a problem with me. Because you were looking at me like you used to look at him. Because I make you happy, too."
"You do," she says and tilts her face up.
He answers her with a kiss.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"You know, there's something wrong with this picture." Jack stops so his shadow falls across the two women and interrupts their sun.
Sam looks at Janet over the top of her sunglasses. The women grin and make a show of enjoying their drinks – heavily alcoholic drinks if their pink cheeks are to be believed. "Summer is almost over and the sun feels nice. Besides, we'd just be in the way," Sam points out.
"Aren't these shelves for your books? And aren't you some kind of mechanical marvel?"
"Hey, this is therapeutic," Janet interjects but she sounds a lot less like a doctor and a lot more like a girl than he's willing to allow when it comes to taking a medical opinion.
"And you guys are doing such a good job."
"How would you know? You've been out here sipping mai tais and soaking up sun while the three of us guys – who are all apparently wrapped around your little finger – are holed up in a dark room putting up wall to wall shelving." Even he can hear the smile in his voice, though, so he's pretty sure she's not buying his mock irritation.
"It's a mojito. And it's not that dark," she says wryly. "I'm the one who installed the new light fixtures."
"Yeah, yeah," he grouses and snags the sweaty drink out of her hand. He takes a long pull off it and tries to maintain his calm exterior when she wraps a hand around his bare knee and slips the pads of her fingers over the softer skin in the bend. She coaxes him forward with just the slightest bit of pressure and he drops a kiss to her lips when he presses the drink back into her hand.
Back in the room they're turning into her library, he sees Teal'c looking very seriously at a level and Daniel looking menacing with a power drill in one hand and a pencil clenched between his teeth. He stands in the doorway taking it all in.
"What?" Daniel says around the pencil before taking it out of his mouth. "Why do you have a goofy smile on your face?"
Jack just shrugs. "It's a good day."
Daniel grins. "It is a good day, isn't it?"
"Indeed," Teal'c says without ever taking his serious eyes off the level. "I believe this will please Major Carter."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Can I borrow your truck?"
He looks up from the papers spread out in front of him and she watches as his eyes take in her well worn tank top and jeans – both that finally fit the figure they'd been bought for – topped off with one of his flannel shirts.
"That depends," he says but a small smile plays around his mouth and she knows he's casting a joke.
"On what?"
"That you're going anywhere but the hardware store."
"Uh…" she quirks an eyebrow at him, "what?"
"You? Looking like that? Standing anywhere in Lowe's?
"Again…what?"
He just shakes his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, you can have the truck. Where ya goin'?" He fishes the keys out of his pocket and tosses them to her.
She catches them easily. "The nursery."
"The flower kind," he says hesitantly, "right?"
She can't help but grin. "Yes, Jack. The flower kind. The beds in front of the deck look like hell. I'm thinking begonias."
A smile creeps across his face and he seems lost for words. Finally she bends down and kisses him, rolls her eyes and heads out.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
She comes back with the bed of the truck filled with little plastic pots of flowers and two sheets of mirrored glass. He's wary, but he meets her on the porch.
"We'll plant the flowers later. Will you help me replace the mirrors in the bathrooms at my house?"
"Sure," he says as casually as he can. She steps into him and he folds her in his arms.
"This is ridiculous," she says against his collarbone. "It's time to sell the place, don't you think?"
Just about the moment his heart starts tap dancing, his stomach starts doing back flips. "Why don't you tell me what you're thinking?"
She shifts from one foot to the other and he feels the slide of her ribs against his. She's quiet for long moments so he just stands there with her in his arms. Finally, she speaks in measured tones. "A lot of healing happened in that house. But all the good stuff happened here. It happened with you. I don't want to go back there. Not for good. And not when so many of my good memories from over the years happened here and not there. If we're…whatever we are…then, this is it, Jack. This is what comes next."
He lays his head against her hair and breathes in all the words she just said. "Whatever we are?"
She seems to roll many words around, feeling the edges for the right fit. "We're happy, aren't we?"
If that's what it is, he'll gladly take it. For now. "Yeah, Sam. We're happy."
They maintain their embrace until he says, "And sweetheart," she pulls back from him and he watches her eyebrow quirk up at the odd endearment – though he likes the way it feels in his mouth he vows not to use it again for at least a while, "I don't know how to tell you this, but it's too late in the year to plant begonias."
"Then why did you let me—"
"Because," he cuts her off, "it was a really nice gesture. And you look hot in my truck."
She rolls her eyes at him and returns to the truck pointedly offloading her plants into the garage.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It only takes three weeks. She's bewildered when she hangs up the phone. She'd heard horror stories of how long it could take to sell a house. But hers is sold in just three weeks. In three more there will be a closing and that'll be that. "Well," she says with a finality that makes him look up from his crossword with trepidation upon her entrance to the dining room, "I'm officially almost not a homeowner."
He cracks a grin. "That was fast."
"You're telling me. We've got three weeks to get that place packed."
Jack groans. "Please tell me we can hire someone to do the heavy lifting. I'm not as young as I once was."
"You're forgetting I've seen you save the planet several times, aren't you?"
"And for that I can afford to pay somebody to do the heavily lifting." He raises an eyebrow at her. "For that matter, so can you."
"Hey," she says playfully. "I don't get hazard pay anymore."
"Well, lucky for you what's mine is yours, et cetera."
She cocks her head to the side and a smile itches at her mouth. "You do know that's not technically true, right?"
And she watches as he suddenly looks like he's been smacked by a two by four.
"Oh my god," she says with a laugh. "Did you honestly forget that we aren't married?"
"Hey," he says and she notices he's blushing, "cut an old guy some slack. It's not that I forgot, it's just that I think of you a certain way. That way."
She sits down at the table with him, in the chair adjacent and picks up the hand that's suddenly intent upon destroying the paper puzzle he's been working on. "That is an incredibly sweet thing to say."
"And a damned embarrassing one."
"Does that mean you do want to get married or that you don't?"
"Of course I want to get married!" He meets her eye and then calms a little. "I just always thought I'd ask, you know?"
"So ask me."
"Why? You gonna say yes?"
She rolls her eyes and feels like she's been doing that a lot lately. "Yeah, I'm gonna say yes," she parrots incredulously.
"Fine," he says and smoothes out his puzzle. "I'll ask." And then he studiously returns to his game.
She waits.
He concentrates.
Finally, she's exasperated, "Well?!"
"What?" he says and finally looks over at her but she thinks she's been had. A smile plays in his eyes just before he winks. "I can't ask you now. It's supposed to be a surprise, right? With a ring and everything?"
"Jack O'Neill, I may have to kill you."
"Patience, Sam," he mocks and leans over to press a kiss to her lips. "Would you grab my glasses off my dresser for me?"
She huffs but pushes back from the table. She grumbles all the way down the hall. His room is dark and she turns the lamp on that sits on the corner of the dresser. His glasses sit just outside the circle of light. Just inside the circle, however, is a navy blue, velvet box. She freezes. It takes several long breaths but finally she's able to reach out and open the box. Inside is a ring that is as beautiful as it is perfectly made for her.
Arms slide around her waist, Jack's chin appears over her shoulder. "Hey, Sam? Wanna get married?"
She'd love to answer him, but she's too busy kissing him.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Do you think it's too soon to get married?" Sam asks.
Janet nearly loses her iced tea through her nose. "Too early for whom?"
Sam thrusts her hand towards her and Janet grabs it in time to focus clearly on the gold band inset with, "Seriously? Is that the symbol for Earth? In diamonds?"
"Well," Sam laughs, "sort of. It's a triangle and a circle. It's close."
"It's beautiful. And incredibly cheesy. And I can't wait to tell Daniel so he can give Jack exactly as much hell as this deserves."
Sam pulls her hand back and contemplates her ring. "I think it's pretty."
Janet rolls her eyes. "It's beautiful. Stunning, really. And that's the point. Jack O'Neill bought that ring, presumably on his own."
"And anyway, too soon to get married? How long have you two actually been together, anyway?"
"I…" Sam pauses and then frowns. "Well, I don't know. We didn't actually mark a date or anything. We weren't and then," Sam shrugs, "we were."
"I can't decide if that's the least or most romantic thing I've ever heard," Janet says with a smirk.
Sam ducks her head and blushes. "Besides, I didn't mean too soon for Jack and me. I mean, is it too soon after…you know."
"Sam," Janet says and all traces of teasing have left her voice, "it doesn't matter if it's been a week, a month or a year. Do you want to marry him? Are you ready?"
"I do," Sam says quickly and with conviction. "I am."
"Then you didn't even have to ask."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
On October 26th she comes to him and tells him, unequivocally, that if he so much as attempts to make any sort of fuss over October 27th she'll make useless parts of him he'd prefer to have full control over for at least another twenty years or so.
He wants to play dumb but he doesn't think he'll ever look at that date on a calendar again without remembering what it was like to realize the body hanging in that cell was alive. That despite everything, he'd gotten to her in time.
Instead, he nods, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and then pulls her to his chest with so much force that they tumble backwards onto the couch and he ends up with an elbow in his diaphragm; he doesn't care.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Jack and I have decided to get married."
Natalie knows her eyes have widened to comic proportions. "I've gotta say, that's not what I thought we were going to talk about today."
Sam grimaces. "I imagine that's true."
"Well, then, congratulations are in order. I'm happy for you guys. I've only been around for a year, but from what I've gathered this is even longer in coming than I've witnessed with my own eyes."
"I've banned him from making today about anything other than telling our friends and coworkers."
"There's some conventional wisdom in replacing bad memories associated with this date with good memories of your choosing. But Sam, there's something you should remember. While October 27th is the end of the worst period of your life, that's the day Jack and your friends got you back. That's the day they found you alive. This day is already marked with good memories – even if they come with some bad."
"I hadn't thought about it like that. Everything about that time, including the day I was rescued, are things I want to forget. My life will never be the same because of what happened to me."
"Do you remember what I told you back at the very beginning?"
"You told me one day I'd be me again. That I'd be able to do my job. That I'd be the same woman I was before."
"Are you?"
"I do a different job now. I have a different life. But I am, essentially, the same person."
"Different doesn't have to mean worse. It just means different."
Sam's quiet so long Natalie wonders what exactly is going on in her head. Finally, Sam meets Natalie's eyes and there's a peace there she hasn't ever seen. "It's not just different. It's better."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When she walks in the house later she hears Daniel's voice coming from the dining room – the way it does most nights when SG-1 is on world and Sam stays for a late session with Natalie. Only this time it's the one-year anniversary of her salvation and the entirety of her old team and her best friend are gathered around her table playing bridge.
She drops her bag on the floor against the wall and pulls up a chair next to Jack.
"We're not making a big deal out of anything," he says, lays down a high spade and wins the trick. It appears he and Teal'c are winning.
"It's okay," she says and leans over to press a kiss against his temple. In fact, she marches around the table and kisses each of her guys the same way. She shares a long hug with Janet and then regains her chair.
"I understand now. If you want to remember today, that's fine. I just don't want celebrate it or anything."
Jack grimaces. "That's never gonna happen."
"This has been a really hard year." She makes eye contact with each of her friends and has trouble maintaining her composure in the face of the obviously strong emotions. "But it's a year I didn't think I was going to have that's led to a life I didn't dare to dream about. There are some things I can't do anymore and I'll probably always miss going through the gate. But you guys… You're my family. And you're more than enough to make a happy life."
She looks at Jack – meets his deep brown, kind eyes. "You are enough to make a happy life. And I'm glad you made it to me."
"Why Samantha Carter," he finally says after visibly collecting run away emotions, "I think that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me." He cracks a grin at their little inside joke.
"Please tell me you're not going to be a high maintenance husband," she plays along. "I can't be counted on to come up with anything that good again."
He cracks a grin.
"I'm not completely better yet," she says quietly, mindful of their rapt audience.
He sobers. "I know."
"But I want to be. I'll try to be."
"Then I'm happy."
"Me too."