As the car departed from the Pentagon on a mid-autumn evening, the back-seated passenger, a three-star General, reclined slightly in the plush leather seat. Her gaze was miles away from the passing scenery and the faint glow of the dashboard lights, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The sky above was a canvas of fading hues, transitioning from the vibrant oranges and pinks of the setting sun to the deepening twilight blues, a stark contrast to the weight of responsibility she carried. This responsibility weighed heavily on her.
The car merged onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway, its sleek form gliding smoothly along the winding road flanked by tall trees adorned with fiery autumn foliage colors. The occasional gust of wind sent a cascade of leaves swirling in the air, creating a breathtaking scene against the backdrop of the Potomac River shimmering in the fading light. The beauty of the autumn landscape was not just a sight but a marvel, a perfect harmony of nature's palette, a scene that could only be described as a living painting.
As they approached Georgetown, the historic neighborhood revealed itself in a blend of old-world charm and modern sophistication. Rows of elegant townhouses lined the streets, their facades illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps, while the scent of freshly baked goods wafted from quaint cafes and restaurants nestled amidst the cobblestone sidewalks.
The car slowed as it navigated the bustling streets, passing by Georgetown University with its iconic spires approaching the darkening sky. Students meandered along the sidewalks, their laughter mingling with the distant hum of traffic, creating a lively atmosphere that contrasted with the serene beauty of the surrounding architecture. The sights and sounds of Georgetown were a symphony of life, a vibrant contrast to the officer's solitary thoughts.
However, as the General sat in the official car, her thoughts swelled after a lengthy meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. She longed for some solitude, and with the privacy window sealed shut, she finally had it. Beside her on the leather seat lay a hefty file, stubbornly unmoving—this voluminous document contained over two hundred pages, each intimately familiar to her. Every word, number, schematic, and calculation within was etched into her memory, a testament to her investment and dedication. Most of the contents were the fruit of her labor, complemented by contributions from Rodney McKay and the collective brilliance of the Stargate Program's finest minds. Even Daniel Jackson had put his efforts into it. Project Perseus, a daring endeavor, aimed to create a pioneering colony on a meticulously chosen planet shortly. The anticipation for this pioneering venture, drawing inspiration from the legendary Atlantis but with a heightened ambition, was palpable in the General's thoughts. The project sought to attract a diverse group of individuals—non-military personnel with a shared desire to establish a new life away from Earth. These modern-day explorers, driven by various motivations, envisioned a venture that surpassed the scope of previous endeavors. Depending on whom you asked, the project's objectives took on different interpretations and meanings, each more intriguing than the last.
She let out a weary sigh, her hand gently resting on the cover of the formidable project. It was far from a novel concept. The idea surfaced several years ago when Jack O'Neill held the Head of Homeworld Security position, as it was then known. At the time, she was commanding Atlantis. Under the directive of the President of the United States, she had embarked on the initial stages of the project, hand in hand with Rodney. However, the endeavor had ground to a halt due to the vehement opposition from Jack and several high-ranking generals who had been against it from the beginning. Their relentless pressure had successfully persuaded the President to shelve the project. Heated debates ensued, and she eventually recognized that Jack had garnered enough support to bury Project Perseus and maintain its interment, at least during his tenure as Head of Homeworld Security.
Over the years, her focus shifted as their lives evolved and their marriage blossomed. The arrival of Jake, then Theo, and finally Grace changed her priorities, and certain matters lost their urgency. Project Perseus was one such casualty. But now, fate had other plans. She was now the newly appointed Head of Homeworld Command, Lieutenant General Samantha Carter-O'Neill, entrusted with the revival of Project Perseus at her request.
The door was promptly opened as her driver pulled the car to a halt in front of their townhouse. It was their second house in D.C. after the first one became too short for their growing family, and Sam loved every piece of it. It boasted a classic Federal-style facade, with red-brick walls and white trim, adorned with ivy creeping up the side, giving it a timeless appeal. Tall, black shutters frame the large, multi-pane windows, and a pair of lantern-style sconces flanked the polished wooden front door, welcoming guests into a space of refined sophistication. A small, manicured garden and wrought-iron fence added to the curb appeal, providing a private yet inviting entrance.
Sam gathered her belongings and stepped out.
"Thank you, Stevens. See you tomorrow," she said, expressing her gratitude.
The five-foot-blonde man flashed a warm smile.
"Good evening, General. I'll be here tomorrow at the same time."
Sam unlocked the front door with her keys, revealing their cozy home. Upon entering, she was greeted by a spacious foyer with polished hardwood floors and high ceilings leading into the heart of the house. The ground floor featured a formal living room to the left, with a marble fireplace as its focal point. The room was furnished with plush, deep-blue sofas, antique wooden side tables, and an heirloom Persian rug, creating an atmosphere of comfort and luxury. Long gone were the safe play zone full of toys, the baby gates that both boys managed to climb as soon as they figured out how, and the numerous baskets to keep toys and books organized. The Playstations, the games, and various accessories were now hidden in a cabinet along with Grace's portable karaoke machine.
To the right, the dining room offered an elegant setting for family meals and entertaining guests. A large mahogany dining table sat beneath a crystal chandelier, while the walls were lined with built-in cabinetry displaying fine china and decorative pieces from Sam's mother. Large windows let natural light flood the room, accentuating the classic wainscoting and crown molding.
The welcoming aroma of meatloaf filled the air. Placing her keys and hat by the entrance, Sam kicked off her shoes before venturing to the rear of the ground floor. From the kitchen emerged Jack, donning a comical blue Simpson apron adorned with Homer wearing a chef's hat—a playful gift from their daughter the previous Christmas. He paired it with comfortable sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt.
"Hey, General," he greeted her with a smile.
"Hey, Chef," Sam replied, kissing his lips quickly.
Jack's grin broadened as he returned to his culinary pursuits.
"I'm going to shower and change," she announced.
Ascending the grand staircase, the first floor hosted their luxurious main suite and an adjacent guest bedroom, tastefully decorated in soft, neutral tones. It included a queen-sized bed, a writing desk, and ample closet space. An adjoining full bathroom, with modern fixtures and a walk-in shower, ensured comfort and privacy for guests. Lately, it was used not by any guest but by Sam, a thought she quickly dismissed as she entered their bedroom.
Their main suite was a haven of tranquility, featuring a king-sized bed with an upholstered headboard, a cozy sitting area, and large windows draped with sumptuous curtains. The en-suite bathroom had a soaking tub that Sam had insisted, a glass-enclosed shower, dual vanities, and radiant heated floors, offering a spa-like retreat.
Sam stepped into the shower, the steam rising around her as the hot water cascaded over her tense shoulders. The bathroom was a sanctuary of modern design, with sleek, white tiles and a glass enclosure that allowed the warm light to filter through. She closed her eyes, letting the water's soothing warmth envelop her, hoping to wash away the day's stress.
As the water streamed down her body, she leaned against the cool, tiled wall, trying to clear her mind. The decision to reactivate the Perseus Project had weighed heavily on her, its implications and potential consequences swirling in her thoughts like a storm. She had spent the day between duty and fear, the enormity of the decision pressing down on her like a physical weight.
The sound of the water was a constant, calming rhythm, a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind. She reached for the lavender-scented shower gel, the familiar scent offering a brief respite from her worries. As she lathered it over her skin, she focused on the simple, repetitive motion, using it as a form of meditation to center herself.
"It's the right thing to do," she kept repeating.
Images of the day flashed through her mind: the intense meetings, the classified documents, the grave discussions about the potential reactivation of Perseus. She had hoped it would be easier this time, but reality had a way of dragging old ghosts back into the light.
She turned her face to the water, feeling it wash over her cheeks, mingling with the few tears she allowed to escape. The decision was made, and there was no turning back now. She needed to find the strength to face Jack and what was coming with the same resolve that had carried her through countless challenges before.
The shower's warmth began to loosen the knots in her muscles, the tension slowly ebbing away. She stayed under the stream, taking deep breaths, inhaling the steam and the soothing scent of lavender. For these few moments, she allowed herself to exist without the burden of decisions and responsibilities.
When she finally turned off the water, she felt a bit lighter, though the weight of her choice still lingered at the edges of her mind. Wrapping herself in a thick, soft towel, she stepped out of the shower, her skin warm and tingling. She glanced at her reflection in the fogged-up mirror, seeing the weariness and exhaustion in her eyes and face.
"Shit, I'm getting old," she cursed.
Sam knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but as she dried off and prepared to face the evening, she reminded herself of her resilience. She had to. The shower had provided a momentary escape, a brief pause in the relentless march of duty. It was time to move forward, one step at a time. She also knew she was postponing a critical issue that she knew was happening but refused to acknowledge for the time being. The signs, however, were getting too constant and starting to show. It was a matter of time. And time was a luxury she didn't have right now.
After a refreshing shower and a change into more comfortable attire, Sam went to the second floor, dedicated to their kids, before joining Jack. Well, they weren't kids anymore. Jacob Carter O'Neill, Jake for short, Theodore Carter O'Neill, or Theo as everyone called him, and Grace Carter-O'Neill were the pride of their lives.
Jake, the older at twenty, had inherited his mother's intellect and curiosity. With dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes, he was a blend of his parents' best traits. A cadet at the Air Force Academy, Jake was deeply engrossed in field research and mathematics, always looking for the next challenge to solve. His passion for exploration and discovery mirrored Sam's own, and she saw in him the same drive that had propelled her through her career. He was already talking about taking his PhD in Physics.
Just two years younger at eighteen, Theo embodied action and leadership, much like his father. Taller than Jack and Jake and already building impressive muscle, Theo had his mother's bright blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He was a faithful Carter in appearance but an O'Neill in spirit. Ambitious and determined, Theo aspired to lead and be at the forefront of any mission. His natural charisma and bravery made him a formidable presence, even among his peers at the Academy.
The O'Neill brothers quickly made a name for themselves, starting at school and continuing to the Air Force Academy. Known for their fierce loyalty and unbreakable bond, they were a duo to be reckoned with. They didn't take kindly to being bullied or underestimated, especially not because of their parents' reputations. They were determined to establish their identities and pursue their goals, regardless of their parents' reputations. Their determination to carve their paths was a testament to their independence and ambition.
With his strategic mind and analytical skills, Jake has often delved into complex problems since he was young. He had a quiet confidence and a steadiness that others naturally gravitated towards. Theo, on the other hand, thrived in the heat of action. He was always ready to take charge and lead a team into the fray with fearless determination, either in the sports field or the training camp. The brothers balanced each other perfectly, combining brains and brawn to make them a formidable team. Their complementary skills and teamwork made them unstoppable.
And then there was Grace, their sixteen-year-old daughter. Initially, Sam thought they would stick with just Jake, but then an unexpected visit from Jack and a lack of protection led to Theo. Jack then confessed to her that he wanted to have a girl. So, they made one last try, and luckily, Grace was born. They had to buy a bigger house and rearrange their lives. Sam's assignments, Jack's retirement, babies, sleep deprivation, dirty uniforms, and laundry. It all became routine, but their children filled their lives and hearts.
The second floor was dedicated entirely to their children and her office, which Jack used occasionally. Jake's room featured a calm and intellectual ambiance with a palette of blues, greys, and whites, reflecting his analytical nature and love for math and physics. It hadn't changed much over the years. A large, sleek desk occupied one corner, laden with a high-performance computer setup, dual monitors, numerous books, research papers, and a 3D printer. A comfortable ergonomic chair paired with the desk made long study sessions manageable.
One wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with textbooks, journals, and works of renowned physicists and mathematicians. Models of molecules and physics experiments added a touch of academic decor. Jake had a simple, modern bed with a dark wooden frame and a navy blue bedspread flanked by two matching nightstands. A framed poster of Albert Einstein hung above his bed, inspiring him daily. Jack teased him constantly about having such an ugly man on his bedroom wall when there were much hotter options.
"You know, Jake," his father commented one evening, glancing at the poster with a smirk, "there are plenty of better-looking folks you could have up there. Why stick with Einstein?"
Jake smiled, unfazed. "Well, Dad, it's not about looks. Einstein revolutionized the way we understand the universe. Whenever I see that poster, I'm reminded that thinking differently can change the world. Plus, if a man who looks like him can achieve so much, it's all about what's in here," he tapped his temple, "not out here."
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "You always have an answer, right?"
"Just like Einstein," Jake replied with a grin.
His closet was always well-organized, with meticulously arranged clothes reflecting Jake's methodical nature. Since he was six, Sam never remembered having to ask him to tidy up his room.
Next was Theo's bedroom, an entirely different story. His room exuded energy and vitality with a bold color scheme of reds, blacks, and greys, showcasing his dynamic personality and love for physical activity. Despite their gym in the basement, Theo had a dedicated corner equipped with free weights, a pull-up bar, resistance bands, and a compact multi-gym. A large mirror on the wall enhanced the space and aided in workout routines.
He had chosen a sturdy bed with a black metal frame and a vibrant red bedspread. The bed was comfortable yet robust, suitable for his active lifestyle. Unlike his brother, he had a functional desk with minimal clutter, featuring a laptop, a few essential books, and workout schedules. A sporty, ergonomic chair accompanied the desk. Near the window, a small, comfortable couch provided a relaxing spot.
Posters of his favorite athletes and images of the Air Force adorned the walls, reflecting his passion for action and his academy. Sam had convinced him to use bins for storing workout gear, sports equipment, and athletic apparel. His closet held a mix of casual and athletic wear, ready for any physical activity or casual outing. It was organized when he was away at the Academy but not so much when he was home.
Grace's bedroom blended youthful vibrancy and sophisticated design in pale yellow colors. It featured a full-sized bed, a study nook with a built-in desk and shelves, and a small walk-in closet. The decor reflected her style, combining contemporary and eclectic elements, including a statement wall with framed posters and Egyptian artwork, given mainly by her Uncle Daniel.
The fourth bedroom served as a meticulously organized home office. A large, polished desk with an ergonomic chair was positioned near the window, providing a perfect workspace. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves dominated one wall, crammed with extensive literature and reference materials, mostly belonging to Sam, Jake, and Grace. A sturdy wall safe securely housed Sam and Jack's firearms in one corner, accessible only with a code known to their three children. The decision to share the code was not taken lightly. After the incident with Charlie, Sam and Jack had extensive discussions and concluded that it was better for their children to be knowledgeable and safe around firearms.
When their children turned six, they began with the basics: learning gun safety rules. These included never touching a gun without permission and always informing an adult if they encountered one. As the children grew, so did their training. When Jake was ten and Theo was eight, Sam and Jack took them to the family cabin, accompanied by Grace. The children were introduced to air rifles and practiced target shooting in a controlled environment.
The following year, they returned to the cabin, where Jack and Sam felt it was time to progress to real firearms. They entrusted Jake and Theo with small-caliber rifles, guiding them through the intricacies of handling and firing a gun. Grace, two years younger than Theo, began with a BB gun, following the same careful trajectory as her brothers. Under their parents' watchful eyes, all three children learned the importance of respect, caution, and precision.
By age fifteen, Jake, Theo, and Grace were adept at handling and shooting guns. They had been taught the technical skills and the critical mindset of responsibility and safety. Despite their proficiency, they were strictly forbidden to use the firearms outside of emergencies.
The home office stood as a testament to a balance between intellectual pursuits and practical life skills, reflecting the values Sam and Jack instilled in their children. The gun safe, nestled amongst books and study materials, symbolized a household where knowledge, preparedness, and safety coexisted harmoniously.
Sam put her briefcase on the desk, her fingers lingering on the latch as she thought about the file containing the Perseus Project inside it. For the first time, she locked the briefcase, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet room. Instead of placing it on top of the desk as usual, she carefully set it on the floor, tucking it against the inside of the desk, out of sight. Away from prying eyes. Jack's eyes. With a heavy sigh, she closed the door and went to the kitchen.
Finally, Sam joined her husband in their recently renovated kitchen. Jack had taken on several home improvement projects following his retirement, and the kitchen had been his inaugural endeavor. They now had a state-of-the-art chef's kitchen equipped with appliances that baffled Sam if she were ever asked to name them. Yet, Jack's satisfaction was evident, and that's what mattered most.
Grace was currently away at college. After sending the boys to the Air Force Academy, Sam, and Jack were still challenged by her absence. Still, it weighed particularly heavily on Jack, who had been more involved with their remarkably gifted daughter as she grew. Grace was pursuing degrees in Computer Science and Molecular Biology at MIT, a decision that had sparked numerous discussions within the Carter-O'Neill household.
Unsurprisingly, Grace had inherited her mother's intellectual brilliance and excelled in nearly everything she set her mind to. From a young age, she had been captivated by computers, often observing her mother working in her home lab or during Sam's tenure as the CO at the SGC. Although Grace had been briefed about the Stargate program like her brothers, she had shown limited interest in it, asserting that Earth had ample issues to address without concerning itself with other planets and alien races. Her focus remained on humanity, and Sam and Jack harbored doubts that she would ever follow in their footsteps, unlike Jake and Theo, who always showed interest in their parent's lifestyle. It was more or less settled that both O'Neill's boys would join the Stargate Program after graduating. Cassie, too, had immediately joined the Program upon receiving her medical license and was now in Atlantis.
Sam settled onto one of the plush high chairs they had recently added to their renovated kitchen, quietly observing her husband as he skillfully prepared a salad. Despite Jack's occasional attempts to entice her into the kitchen after they married, Sam had steadfastly refused, maintaining her distance from culinary endeavors. She fed their children whenever necessary, which was how far she had gone.
"So, how was your day?" she inquired, taking a bite of a carrot Jack had left on the countertop.
Jack, visibly surprised, spun around as he hadn't noticed her arrival.
"Oh... you know. Did some work in the basement, caught some TV, and missed you," he replied warmly.
Slowly, Sam returned the smile. At 68, Jack remained as handsome as ever. His hair had turned almost entirely white, but he had maintained an excellent physical condition, thanks to their sons. Sam recalled how he had sprung into action as soon as she'd revealed her first pregnancy. The fast-food lunches at the Pentagon had swiftly been replaced with home-cooked meals and healthier supermarket choices. Water became his favorite drink. He'd even rekindled his interest in working out, though nothing too strenuous, given his knee issues. Sam had indeed noticed the difference, especially in their private moments. That change in his lifestyle continued through the years as the boys grew up and pushed his father to keep him in excellent shape.
Which led her to her current situation. She had not slept in the same bed as her husband for the second night. The first night, she arrived home too late, finding Jack asleep. She had told herself she didn't want to disturb him and had chosen the guest room, which had never happened since marriage. They had often gone straight to bed no matter how late one of them arrived, even when their boys and Grace were little.
The second night had been trickier. She had come home at a regular hour, and they had dinner as usual. Jack had been engrossed in a political debate on TV while she reviewed some files she had brought home. The hours stretched, the political discussion ended, and Jack looked at her.
"Are you coming to bed?" he had asked, his tone light but expectant.
"In a couple of minutes," she had replied, eyes on the documents before her.
But she didn't go upstairs. Instead, she had stayed on the couch, her heart pounding with an inexplicable fear of joining him in their bedroom. Eventually, she went upstairs but once again to the guest room. She had hardly slept.
The following day, over breakfast, Jack had asked, "Are you okay?"
"Just late for work," she had answered, kissing him goodbye before rushing out the door.
Sam knew she couldn't maintain this pace and realized he deserved an explanation. The problem was that Sam was grappling with two major issues and couldn't determine which was more pressing: the personal or the professional.
Caught between these two demanding realms, Sam was in a constant state of flux. Sam knew she needed to address both areas of her life, but identifying which issue to tackle first seemed impossible. She had put her personal matter on a perpetual stand-by for the last months, but it was catching on her, and she knew she needed to find a way to navigate through the chaos and regain some semblance of control.
"What about you? How's Homeworld?" Jack asked with a hint of curiosity as he placed the salad on the table.
Sam allowed the carrot in her mouth to linger a little while, buying herself some time. When he retired and she continued working, they discussed how to handle her job. Jack initially claimed not to care anymore, but Sam insisted that she valued his opinion and wanted to continue discussing her work with him. She had no one else she could confide in due to her high-security clearance. Neither Daniel nor Vala met the criteria, even though they remained their closest friends and served as all their kids's godparents. Jack had agreed, and their discussions mainly revolved around Sam's work, especially during challenging moments when his experience proved invaluable. However, this time was different. She was now dealing with a matter he had staunchly opposed.
Jack and other high-ranking generals had debated the necessity of creating a "second Earth" when Earth already possessed the Alpha Site, particularly as the Stargate Program remained shrouded in secrecy. In Jack's eyes, this allocation of valuable resources seemed redundant, as the Alpha Site already served as a contingency plan for evacuating Earth if circumstances turned dire, despite its restricted access and U.S. control. This rationale had catalyzed the initiation of the Perseus Project—a move aimed at fostering a more inclusive approach involving nations beyond the United States, which held dominion over the Stargate.
On the contrary, Sam harbored a dissenting perspective. She was deeply concerned about Earth's depleting natural resources and the imminent challenges posed by climate change, which cast a foreboding shadow over the planet's future. The Stargate had unveiled the potential for habitable worlds, offering a fresh start for humanity. In her view, the Alpha Site's limitations were apparent, as it encompassed only the United States and a select few allied nations privy to the existence of the Stargate. These conflicting viewpoints persisted over time, and Jack couldn't help but notice Sam's current hesitancy as they discussed the matter.
He did not address that she had been sleeping in the guest room for the past two nights, giving her space to talk about that when she felt ready to. Jack, however, observed how quiet his wife had become.
"So, you've got a hot potato in your hands already?" he inquired with a knowing look.
Sam blushed slightly; he knew her all too well, and regrettably, her job had grown accustomed to her.
"I had a meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs," she admitted, swallowing the last carrot. It appeared she was starting with the professional matter.
Jack stood still momentarily and then placed the meatloaf on the table. Its aroma was divine.
"Well, you are now the Head of Homeworld Command. It's a crucial position, honey," he remarked with a warm smile. He was so proud of her that sometimes he felt he would burst.
Sam playfully kicked him under the table.
"Don't patronize me, Jack," she retorted, beginning to eat.
He gave a mock "ouch" and joined in.
"Okay, and?" he inquired, noticing Sam's reluctance.
She started fiddling with her food, and Jack knew something was troubling her. Hell, she had slept in the guest room the last two nights. Something was wrong, and he was waiting to find out what it was.
In the early days of their marriage, Sam and Jack faced their fair share of communication challenges. Neither was adept at sharing their feelings or articulating their states of mind. However, as they navigated the transition from commanding officer and second-in-command to husband and wife, they had to adapt to each other. It hadn't been easy, and even now, the occasional struggle resurfaced. But over the years, they had come a long way. They developed an intimate knowledge of each other through their shared experiences and efforts to understand one another. Jack knew Sam better than anyone else, and vice versa.
"Come on, Sam, you can tell me," he encouraged when she remained silent.
Sam put her fork down and looked directly at him.
"I reactivated the Perseus Project," she confessed, laying all the carts on the table.
Jack stopped eating abruptly.
"You what?" he asked, his fork suspended mid-air.
"The President and the Chiefs of Staff asked what the department's top priority should be, and I told them it should be the Perseus Project," Sam revealed, maintaining eye contact with Jack.
He slowly lowered his fork, his appetite vanishing.
"Why?" he questioned, slowly placing both hands on the table.
"Because I've always believed it should be pursued, Jack. You know that. We've argued about it before," she replied calmly despite her racing heartbeat and the first signs of heating on her neck and face.
In silence, Jack rose from his seat and opened their sizeable fridge. He grabbed a beer, popped it open, and began to drink. Sam swallowed hard. Jack rarely indulged in alcohol nowadays, typically saving it for special occasions. If he wanted to convey a message, it was loud and clear.
"So, you're beginning your tenure by dedicating Homeworld's resources to creating a fantasy world?" he quipped, tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin with perfect aim.
Sam blushed, discreetly cleaning the sweat on her neck.
"A fantasy world? Is that what you think of my work, of Rodney's?" she asked slowly.
With his eyes firmly locked on hers, Jack crossed his arms.
"McKay's always been an asshole. As always, he will be, frankly. This project was never your finest idea," he stated honestly.
It was a critique he'd shared with her before. Sam rose from her seat, her voice laden with hurt.
"So, we're back to arguing? The same old debates, Jack, after all these years?" she lamented.
He remained leaning against the countertop, arms crossed.
"The project remains the same, Sam, so the arguments naturally follow suit," he replied matter-of-factly.
Sam lowered her head, took a deep breath, and said, "You know what, Jack? This time, I don't want to discuss work with you... I think it's best if we don't talk about my work at all."
She left the kitchen, climbed the stairs, and headed to their bedroom. The door closed with a sound that she hardly cared about. The tension momentarily eased during the hot shower returned with a vengeance, gripping her muscles again.
Jack ran a hand through his hair and let out a silent sigh of frustration.
Alone in their bedroom, Sam initiated her nightly routine in the bathroom, hoping the familiar tasks would help soothe her. As she methodically cleaned her face, meticulously removing the traces of the minimal makeup she had worn, Jack entered the room. She observed his pacing through the expansive bathroom mirror but silently continued her tasks, pointedly ignoring him.
Suddenly, his reflection appeared in the mirror.
"Are you mad at me?" he inquired.
Sam had just finished applying her night moisturizer to her face and hands and was closing the container when her eyes met his.
"Why would I be mad at you, Jack, after your charming display downstairs?" she responded with an icy tone.
Jack knew that tone well, so he began to tap his fingers on the bathroom doorframe.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I overreacted," he conceded.
Sam rose from her seat and walked past him, preparing the bed. She gathered their numerous pillows, which seemed to wind up on the floor after things heated at night, and arranged them on the bed. Climbing under the covers, she switched off her bedside light.
"So, you are sleeping here tonight?" he asked.
Sam closed her eyes and counted to twenty in her head to avoid the answer she had on the tip of her tongue. Her mood swings were sometimes very nasty, and he didn't deserve the answers she gave him.
"I might," she managed to say, already feeling the sudden wave of heat spreading throughout her body.
Jack swallowed hard, realizing he had blundered. Quickly, he removed his sweatpants, leaving him in just his t-shirt and boxers. He scooted closer to her, reaching for her waist and feeling her heated body tense up.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, kissing her shoulder.
Hoping he didn't hear her rapid heartbeat, Sam remained still. "You took me by surprise, Sam, but I'm sorry," he reiterated, holding her tightly against his body.
She didn't resist but maintained her silence.
"We won't talk about the project," Jack assured her, his lips close to her neck. "I won't say a word," he continued, beginning to caress her belly, his warm hands brushing against her skin. Sam had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.
"Please, Sam," he implored, kissing her neck again. "Don't go to the guest room," he added.
She gradually turned toward him, their faces mere inches apart.
"Not a word about this, Jack," she finally consented.
He nodded and tenderly kissed her on the lips. The kiss grew more fervent, and they surrendered to the passions of the moment. The day's worries melted away, replaced by the intensity of their connection. They moved closer, their bodies pressed together, hands exploring familiar paths with renewed urgency.
The room seemed to fade into the background as they surrendered to the passions of the moment. Sam's fingers tangled in Jack's hair, pulling him closer, while his hands roamed down her back, tracing the curves he knew so well. Their breaths quickened, mingling in the heated air between them. Each kiss, each touch, was a reminder of their deep bond and the love that had weathered so many storms.
However, when Jack became more intimate, Sam halted him. Highly aroused, he looked at her, confused.
"What?" he asked, his boxers already on the floor.
"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm too tired", Sam said, blushing furiously.
Jack swallowed hard.
"O…okay", he said, awkwardly moving away from her.
Sam closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and turned her back. "Good night," she managed to say, biting her hand.
Jack was staring at the dark ceiling with one hand behind his head. "Good night", he said.
Jack O'Neill had always prided himself on his ability to read people, especially his wife. Lately, though, he felt like he was stumbling through a fog when it came to her. He knew something was wrong. Tonight, she told him about the Perseus Project, which could explain some things but not all. Lately, she wasn't talking to him, frightening him more than he cared to admit. Over the past few months, things have shifted dramatically.
At first, it was the sudden outbursts. Sam would explode over the most minor things, igniting heated arguments that flared up out of nowhere. But as quickly as they started, they would end. She would offer a quick apology and leave the room, leaving Jack bewildered. Fights and disagreements weren't new to them; they had always managed to navigate through them. But this was different. The frequency and intensity of her outbursts were new, but the growing distance unnerved him.
Initially, she complained about being too hot despite the air conditioning being on full blast. She would toss and turn in bed, restless and uncomfortable. Whenever Jack offered to help or asked if something was wrong, she would insist she was fine. But it was clear to him that she wasn't. She was anything but fine. He knew from years of experience that when she used the word 'fine,' something was always wrong.
Then came the moment that truly scared him: during sex, he noticed she wasn't enjoying it. Their intimate life had been incredible in all their years together, a testament to their deep connection. Jack had always worried that she might lose interest as he aged, but it had been the opposite. She seemed even more attracted to him, often teasing that his white hair did it for her. But that night, she was distant and unresponsive, and it left him panicked. After that, their sex life came to an abrupt halt, driving him up the wall with worry and confusion. Now, she refused him again.
The final straw came two nights ago when she started sleeping in the guest room. Despite what she told him tonight about the project, Jack's mind spiraled into dark places. Was she tired of him? Had she found someone else? The idea of losing her was unbearable, and he was desperate for answers. This would be most certainly another sleepless night for him.