Before heading to the cabins, Jack stopped at the supermarket for supplies. As he parked, a smile played on his lips. Noticing this, Sam inquired about the reason for his amusement.
"The last time we met here, you pointed a gun at me," he chuckled while opening the door.
Blushing, she opened her door and defensively replied, "I didn't know you, and you sneaked up on me."
Jack grabbed a shopping cart.
"Sure," he said, entering the supermarket, and she followed him with an annoyed expression.
Jack halted in front of the canned food section.
"So, any preferences?" he asked, still smiling.
Looking at the shelves that had been a priority for so many years, Sam swallowed, realizing he was teasing her, but suddenly, she didn't feel like playing along. This had been an essential part of her life, one she had taken out of necessity, and throwing that at her face wasn't pleasant. Her survival instincts came back with a vengeance.
"You know what, I'll get my groceries later," she said, turning around and leaving.
Jack looked surprised.
"Sam?" he called out, quickly watching her head back to the truck. "Fuck," he cursed, almost running after her. "Sam, please wait," he asked as she leaned against the passenger door, an unreadable expression on her face. He crouched in front of her. "I'm sorry. It was a stupid joke," he said.
She looked to her right, her face devoid of emotion. Jack felt like he was looking at the first version of Samantha Carter he had met in the forest, and a sudden fear gripped him.
"Sam, please, I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Can we go?" she asked, grabbing the handle of his truck door.
Jack swallowed and opened the truck, fearing she would start walking away if he didn't open the door quickly. She immediately got inside and closed the door. Jack silently cursed and went around to his side.
As he started the truck, he looked at her, arms crossed, looking straight ahead.
Your cabin?" he inquired, though he was aware of the response. His foolish remark at the supermarket dissipated his lingering hopes for her to stay with him. Nevertheless, he hadn't anticipated her swift reversion to the person he first encountered upon their arrival in Minnesota, especially after the events that transpired in his house back in the Springs.
"Yes, please," she replied.
Jack drove them there, and no more words were exchanged. Sam's heartbeat increased as her hidden cabin came into view, and she was out of the truck before it had stopped entirely.
"Jesus," he mumbled while parking the truck.
She took her key, turned off the alarms, and entered the place that had been her home for so many years. Jack began taking her things out of the back and prepared to join when she blocked his way.
"I'll take them," she said at the cabin's entrance.
Jack looked at her, surprised.
"You don't want me inside?" he asked a little hurt.
"I told you, Jack, that I'll need time of my own the first nights. Please understand," she requested.
Jack placed her backpack and duffel on the floor at the cabin entrance a little too roughly than he wanted to.
"OK. Fine, take all the time you need. You know where to find me," he said, turning to his truck.
Sam watched as the tires hit the gravel, and he quickly disappeared from view. She swallowed, picked up her belongings, entered her cabin, and closed the door.
Taking a few moments to reacquaint herself with the cabin—its space, her belongings, even the faintly musty scent—Sam realized she would need to clean it well. Despite the weariness from the trip, she eagerly set to work, turning on the generator, checking her surveillance measures with a smile, and dedicating herself to tidying up the cabin. Exhausted but strangely content when she finished, she brewed some coffee, started a fire to warm the cabin, and finally took a well-deserved shower.
Clad in fresh clothes, the fireplace crackling, and a steaming cup of coffee in hand, she sank onto her couch and inhaled deeply, savoring the forest's fresh aroma.
"Yeah, definitely missed this," she admitted aloud, eyes closed, as she enjoyed her coffee with the flickering warmth of the fireplace. She had taken the list from her pants and put it on the table before the couch, where it stood undisturbed for now.
On the other side of the lake, the atmosphere in Jack's cabin was less serene. He tossed his bags onto the floor upon entering, an overwhelming urge to kick them and release his frustration bubbling up. However, he managed to rein in his emotions, turning on the generator. Finding some remaining food, he quickly made a sandwich, grabbed a beer, and headed to his deck, barely registering the cold. Seated there, he cursed at the silent lake, eyes fixed on the opposite shore, where Sam's cabin stood. He knew she was there. Alone. And he was here, also alone.
"Fuck," he muttered, finishing the beer before heading inside.
She had indeed expressed the need for some time alone, but Jack had hoped they could at least share a meal, enjoy a pleasant dinner, perhaps spend some time on the couch, and then part ways. Or she would retreat to her cabin. Yet, everything had taken a sour turn at the supermarket. No groceries, no dinner, no intimate moments—nothing. Frustrated, he growled and began unpacking, realizing he still had her laptop. Should he go to her cabin to return it? Jack carefully placed the new machine on his coffee table and retreated to his bedroom. If she wanted it, she could come and get it.
Changing into fresh clothes, he settled into his bed, hoping that weariness from the journey would usher in sleep. He knew it wouldn't. He would likely stay awake tonight, his thoughts consumed by his blonde, blue-eyed neighbor, much like so many nights before. Punching his pillow in frustration, he closed his eyes, knowing sleep wouldn't be his companion tonight.
Sam found herself dreaming surprisingly well, adjusting swiftly to the forest's tranquility despite being now accustomed to the city's noise. However, one thing eluded her during the night—Jack's presence. As her hand instinctively sought his side of the bed, she swallowed, realizing she missed him. Hating to admit it, she had grown accustomed to him—his body, the nights they shared. Closing her eyes, she covered her face with the pillow and let out a frustrated moan.
"Fuck," she cursed, acknowledging his remarkable presence in her life.
Jack had been incredible thus far, navigating the challenges she presented. Despite her warnings, he hadn't wavered; he had told her he loved her. Clutching the pillow tighter, Sam struggled to clear her mind. How was she supposed to regain control if all she could think about was him?
"Fuck," she cursed again, exasperated.
Getting out of bed, she decided to have some coffee and head to her shooting range. Desperation fueled her need to fire her weapons and release pent-up tension. That could provide some relief and clear her mind from a certain handsome Colonel. She swiftly dressed, downed the coffee, and carefully selected the guns she would take. Closing her cabin door, she approached the shooting range, determined to engage in some severe shooting today. Yes, that would undoubtedly help.
Magazine after magazine lay scattered on the floor as Sam continued her relentless shooting. Her trigger finger had been working non-stop, and it seemed she would run out of ammunition soon if she didn't pause. Breathing heavily, she finally lowered her M16, surveying the nearly obliterated targets.
"Shit," she cursed under her breath, realizing she would have to carve new ones.
"I hope you weren't imagining me as you were shooting," a voice came from behind, and she swiftly turned, gun aimed.
Jack casually strolled toward her, hands raised and a smile on his lips. She lowered the gun, silently cursing.
"Are you trying to get shot?" she asked as she got up.
Jack stopped beside her, arms crossed, examining the nearly destroyed targets.
"Pretty mad, huh?" he teased.
Blushing, she unloaded the assault rifle, placing it in its case.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, grabbing a water bottle and downing it all.
Jack put his hands in his pockets.
"I know you need time for yourself and all that, but I miss you," he said in a low voice. "I missed you last night," he added, looking at his well-worn boots.
Sam put the bottle down, realizing she hadn't been the only one feeling that way.
"Shit, Jack, don't say that," she uttered through gritted teeth.
He looked at her, surprised.
"Why?" he asked, glancing at the guns she had brought, neatly arranged on the makeshift table.
Sam loosened her ponytail, and Jack groaned.
"Please don't do that," he requested.
She looked surprised at him.
"What?" she asked.
He took a step closer, his hands tentatively holding her waist.
"Do you have any idea how hot you are right this moment? How desperately I want to kiss you?" he confessed, his lips grazing her neck.
Sam blushed, her hands shifting from his arms to his back.
"Hot? I'm at a firing range, Jack," she said, genuinely perplexed.
Jack closed his eyes and pulled her in, resting his face on her damp neck.
"I know. God, woman, you have no idea the things you do to me," he mumbled, his lips trailing along her neck.
She couldn't help but half-smile.
"So, you like to see me shoot? Is that it?" she teased, her hands running down his back.
Jack held her tighter.
"No, I like to see you shoot and destroy everything in front of you," he admitted, nuzzling her neck further.
She burst into laughter.
"Oh my God, you are so sick," she said.
He moved his head and looked at her.
"I'm military, former black ops, and I like women. Correction, I like you. So, the combination is scorching," he explained before kissing her.
Sam eagerly returned the kiss, realizing how much she had missed him, perhaps more than she was willing to admit. After some minutes of deep kisses, Sam attempted to regain control of the situation after the unexpected make-out session in the secluded firing range.
"Jack," she tried to say as his lips continued to trap along her neck and move to her collarbone.
"Hmm," was his only response.
She firmly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away.
"Jack, listen to me," she insisted.
He looked at her, his eyes almost black with desire, but his face also showed traces of annoyance at being interrupted.
"What?" he asked, taking his hands off her and stepping back. Both were panting heavily.
"Look, I miss you too," she admitted, placing the table with the guns between them to facilitate the conversation.
Jack ran both hands through his hair.
"Do you? And?" he asked slowly.
Sam bit her lip.
"We both know what will happen if I go to your cabin or if you come to mine," she said, her hands sliding over her guns.
Jack smiled.
"We do? You are very confident for someone who wanted to be left alone..." he teased, his voice playful.
Sam blushed.
"Fine. Go back to your cabin, and I'll go back to mine. Goodbye, Jack," she said as she gathered her things.
Jack paled. Apparently, she had lost all of her almost non-existent sense of humor.
"Come on, Sam, I was teasing you," he said, grabbing her hand.
She stopped and slowly looked at him.
"I told you in Colorado why I needed to come here, Jack, and you are treating this like a joke. I'm not finding it funny," she said in a severe tone.
He swallowed hard.
"I know, but I'm scared. That's why I say these stupid jokes. When I don't know what to do," he admitted.
She looked puzzled at him.
"Why are you scared? Scared of what?" she asked, sitting on the table's edge.
Jack took a deep breath.
"That after you do all your thinking, you decide that you don't want me anymore, that you are better off alone, that we go separate ways..." he said in such a low voice that Sam hardly heard him.
"Jack..." she began, grabbing his hand.
He looked at her with an expression that almost broke her heart.
"Now that you have your life back, why do you need a guy sixteen years older than you who has nothing to offer you except a cabin in the woods?" he asked.
Sam closed her eyes as his pain hit her like thunder. It was as if he had read her list already. She hugged him tightly, her arms around his waist.
"I love you, Jack O'Neill, and you promised me it would be forever. Always. I believed you. Are you going back on your word?" she asked, her face hidden in his neck.
Jack swallowed and held her.
"Never. From now until eternity, you are my one and only, and like I've told you, you'll never be alone," he whispered in her ear.
Sam felt a teardrop on her cheek, but she ignored it.
"After everything I've been through, I only need your love, respect, and loyalty, Jack. Nothing more. The same things I vow to give back to you," she said.
Jack felt a lump in his throat.
"I never exchanged love vows before in a firing range. It's my first. What about you?" he asked, his lips moving to her mouth.
Rolling her eyes, she smiled as she kissed him.
"You do need to improve those jokes," she remarked between kisses.
He smiled but continued the kiss.
After a lingering kiss that surpassed their expectations, Jack tenderly ran his fingers through Sam's sweaty hair.
"I brought my truck. Do you want a ride?" he asked, his voice hinting at playfulness.
Sam nodded, her fingers casually toying with the fabric of his shirt.
"Yes, please. And I also need to go to the supermarket. Can we try that again?" she inquired, a subtle smile on her lips.
Jack kissed her forehead and reassured her, "Of course, I'll behave. No more stupid jokes. Let me help you."
Together, they stowed away the guns Sam had brought and her backpack, and he drove them to her cabin. In a flash, Sam changed shirts, foregoing a shower to avoid keeping him waiting. Back inside his truck, Jack couldn't help but notice her change of attire.
"You changed?" he asked as he steered toward the supermarket.
"I was all sweaty," she explained.
"I was going to say that I like you that way, but then again..." he teased, a playful smile gracing his lips.
Sam playfully swatted his shoulder. Jack parked the truck at the supermarket's parking lot once again.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" he proposed.
Sam nodded and disembarked. They navigated the aisles like any ordinary couple, with Jack taking the lead in filling the cart with essential items. On the other hand, Sam contented herself with coffee, bread, and a few frozen TV dinners. Jack intervened when she reached for a frozen lasagna, beef, and mashed potatoes.
"What?" she asked, perplexed.
"You are not eating this," he declared, a determined look on his face.
Sam blushed. "I've been eating this for years," she defended.
Jack firmly replaced the meals in the freezer.
"Not anymore. I'll cook something fresh, and you can reheat it at your cabin. Not this," he insisted.
Sam hesitated but ultimately picked up the frozen meals again.
"It isn't practical, Jack. It's just for a day or two," she reasoned, placing them in the cart again.
Jack took them and returned them to the freezer. Sam felt her frustration building.
"Since when do you decide what I eat?" she challenged hands on her waist. A passing couple exchanged amused glances, adding to Sam's irritation.
Jack released the cart and stepped closer to her, gently resting his hands on hers.
"I don't decide anything, Sam. I want you to eat better than that crap, and I don't mind cooking. You know that," he said in a soft, persuasive tone.
Rolling her eyes, Sam sighed. When he used that tone, she always caved.
"Fine, I'll eat at your cabin then. There's no point in going back and forth with food. This is becoming ridiculous," she conceded, grabbing the cart and moving on. Jack smiled and followed her, mentally tallying one point for him. Now, he could convince her to stay the night.
After several more discussions and adjustments, they finally wrapped up their first joint supermarket purchase. Jack couldn't contain his smile as he loaded everything into his truck. This simple act of grocery shopping and the prospect of going home to cook lunch together was what he had yearned for with Samantha Carter. It felt like a return to the normalcy he thought he had lost after his divorce from Sara, and he desperately hoped that Sam wanted the same. As they drove to his cabin, he broached the subject delicately.
"So, I have your laptop, by the way," he mentioned.
Sam continued gazing out the window, taking in the surroundings she had missed so much.
"You do?" she asked, her attention finally shifting to him.
Jack shot her a surprised glance.
"You didn't notice?" he teased, entering his almost secluded driveway.
Sam looked at him as he parked the truck. "No," she admitted.
"Went to bed early?" he inquired with a playful smile.
She returned the smile.
"Yes, I did, as a matter of fact," she said, exiting the truck.
Jack followed suit, grabbing the bags.
Once inside, he unloaded everything in the kitchen and began separating items for lunch. Sam wandered into the living room and spotted her brand-new laptop on the coffee table. However, suddenly, she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to take it or delve into work. Seeing her indecision, Jack approached.
"Problem?" he asked.
She sighed.
"I don't know," she admitted.
Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. He missed her so much.
"Want to talk about it?" he offered.
She swallowed, uncertain. Did she want to? Slowly turning to face him, she looked into his eyes.
"I missed you too, Jack, last night. A lot. More than I thought I would, and things are...are..." She struggled to find the right words, her emotions evident.
Jack continued to gaze at her, waiting patiently. Finally, Sam gave up and rested her head against his chest.
"I don't know what I want anymore," she confessed.
This was Jack's fear – that she would walk away from him.
"So, you want to go your way? We stop here?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.
Sam lifted her head immediately.
"No, of course not. That's not what I meant, Jack. God, no," she said, cupping his face and kissing him.
Jack felt a slight weakness in his knees, but he managed to hold on.
"OK, what's bothering you?" he asked, gently kissing her chin.
Sam closed her eyes.
"I wanted to come here to clear my mind and decide what to do with my life, where I want to be. I have so many things to decide. My father's stuff from the will. The Air Force. Your Stargate..." She listed all the pressing matters occupying her thoughts, noticeably omitting him.
"What about us?" he questioned, gathering the courage to ask what he feared the most.
Sam let out a heavy sigh.
"Us," she said.
Jack held her in his arms.
"You want to have an 'us'?" he asked slowly.
She kissed his neck several times.
"I've already told you I love you, Jack. So yes, I want 'us'. I don't know how we get that 'us,'" she said, expressing her doubts.
Jack kissed her deeply.
"We'll find a way," he assured her when they needed to break the kiss to catch their breath.