28 Fifth/Pete

Jack sits on his couch, not unlike a cat as he leans casually against the back with an arm spread over the top cushion and long legs draped over his coffee table. His fingers drum against his knee in time with music no one else can hear. It's been among the weirder and more difficult times of his life, having been brought back from cryo-stasis after the Ancient repository scrambled his brain again and he'd apparently saved Earth (again). Carter had been missing, but is now safe and sitting next to him, perfectly straight and rigid, staring at the coffee mug in her hands like it's one of those posters where you have to focus and cross your eyes or something. "Earth to Carter," he says.

"Sir?" She squirms uncomfortably and pushes stray hairs behind her ear.

"Carter, please relax."

"I- I am relaxed."

His eyes narrow as he stares at her, "Carter."

She sighs and relaxes, and he thinks it's beautiful. Her shoulders pull back gently from what had looked like a normal state, but he now recognizes her tension easing. His arm lowers so his fingers can curl over her shoulder and squeeze. "Attagirl." She smiles.

They sit in silence for a while. Jack watches her face for any sign of anything that should flag his attention, but all she does is stare into her coffee.

"Carter," he whispers.

"He made me see things," she says. Her eyes are so dark and shadowed that he almost can't see the blue and her arms are wrapped tightly around herself.

He knows this kind of trouble when he sees it, so he only says "Tell me."

Finally, mercifully, her big blue eyes look toward him as she shivers. "He… he made it seem like I lived in this farmhouse with Pete."

Jack shuts the ice out of his veins when he hears this because it's about being here for her and not about the recent hole in his soul that is called Pete. "Okay," he says.

"It was so weird, Sir, and I could tell it wasn't real," she says, and she sounds like she's dreaming. She almost sounds like Dorothy at the end of The Wizard of Oz, and he actually wishes some of this was make-believe because it would be pretty dope to drop a house on a certain detective and call it a day.

He drops his gaze for a moment before squeezing her shoulder again and half smiling. "Go on."

"I could tell it wasn't real because Pete was there," she says.

"What?"

"I would never be with Pete."

"You're with Pete right now."

"Not like that," she says. "I wouldn't… I couldn't be with him for real, not, I don't know, not forever." She drops her eyes to her hands and watches them fuss with the hem of her shirt. "Maybe I just now realized it, Sir, but I could never…"

He nods, trying not to look too anything about it. "Uh huh," he says. "I mean, that's really up to you, Carter."

Her eyes reach his and hold them, fiercely, in the dimming light of evening. "He's not you."

"Oh," he says, then nods slowly. "Oh."

"I'm sorry," she gasps, jumping up from the couch and covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

He tugs her back down by her wrist and pulls her into his arms, for the first time not worrying if it is inappropriate or too hard or too long or too anything besides comforting to her. "Please don't," he says, trailing his fingers up and down her spine. "Shhh, please, Carter. Sam." He kisses the top of her head and squeezes her. "Don't."

"I… I don't want to be with him."

"You don't have to," Jack says. He ignores his voice lightly breaking and the hopeful tears trying to break free from his eyes as he rubs her back and holds her close. "You don't have to do anything."

They sit on the couch, clinging to each other and soothing the long open wound between them. Sam lifts her head from his shoulder and finally meets his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jack squints at her and squeezes her side gently. "For what?"

"I got impatient. I thought you were over it, um, over me."

"I could never."

"Do you, I mean- Can you forgive me?"

Jack tries not to allow the chuckle to escape his lips, but it does, and he reaches up to cradle her face and rub his thumb slowly over her cheek. "Oh, Carter," he whispers. "Sam." He leans forward and presses his lips against hers with such grace and tenderness that she almost can't believe it's real, then kisses the tip of her nose and her forehead. "Yes, always."

"But-"

"Shh. This sucks, Carter; I know it does. I'm still here waiting, and I always will be. You just let me know when." He kisses her forehead again. "Okay?"

She finally smiles again and nods. "Okay, yeah. Okay."

They stay wrapped up for a while before Sam finally shifts up and out of Jack's arms, but only as she holds his gaze and smiles sweetly at him. "I… I gotta go make a call and do a thing," she says.

He's confused at first, but then catches up to the moment and remembers she's got a boyfriend to drop. "Ah, right," he says. He rubs her arms gently and helps her up. "Do you, um, need anything?"

Sam smiles brightly, the brightest she has in a long time, and pushes her hair behind her ear. She reaches out to smooth his shirt over his shoulders and shakes her head. "Not just yet, Sir," she says.

"Let me know?"

"You'll know, Sir. I'll need you soon, and you'll know."