The flight from Colorado Springs to Washington, D.C., was quiet. The hum of the plane's engines provided a soothing backdrop to Sam and Jack's deep and contemplative silence. The tension and emotional intensity of their last night together seemed to linger between them, wrapped in a layer of comfortable companionship. They were seated side by side, and each lost in their thoughts as the plane passed through the clouds.
Sam looked out the window, her gaze fixed on the shifting landscape below, her mind racing through the possibilities that awaited them in D.C. Beside her, Jack appeared deep in thought, his eyes occasionally drifting to the horizon, reflecting the same mix of anticipation and contemplation.
Upon landing at Dulles International Airport, the transition from the plane to the ground was smooth, though the weight of their next steps seemed almost palpable. Jack navigated them through the terminal with practiced ease, calm, and composed, though his mind was focused on the tasks ahead. Sam followed close behind, her steps light but purposeful, her thoughts a whirl of emotions.
After retrieving their luggage, they went to Jack's car and the waiting driver. There was no longer a security detail, but Sam knew his vehicle was bulletproof. The drive through the city was quiet, the streets of Washington, D.C., passing by in a blur of motion. The bustling cityscape seemed distant compared to their shared intimacy in Colorado Springs. The weight of their new reality settled in, and they were ready to embrace it together.
Arriving at Jack's house, they were greeted by the familiar warmth of his home. It now felt like an eternity as Sam had first set foot in his house, feeling unwanted and unwelcome. It felt like an alternative reality, to be honest.
As they settled in, Jack turned to Sam with a thoughtful expression.
"Sam," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "there's something I'd like to talk to you about."
Sam looked at him with curiosity and apprehension, her hand still on the handle of her bag.
"What's up?"
Jack took a deep breath, his gaze steady as he made his request.
"I know we've had a lot going on lately, and I want to ensure we're not rushing into anything. But I'd like to ask you to move to my bedroom. I think it's time we took another step forward in our relationship."
Sam's eyes widened slightly, and she took a moment to process his words. The idea of moving their relationship to a new level was both exciting and daunting. She had been contemplating the implications of their growing connection, and Jack's suggestion felt like a natural progression and a significant commitment.
After a brief pause, Sam nodded slowly, her expression softening with acceptance.
"All right," she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "Let's take that step. But before that, I need to tell you something."
Jack's face brightened with relief, affection, and confusion.
"What? What do you need to tell me?"
Sam wanted to take this step; she really did, but she couldn't do it without being completely honest with him. To do that, she had to tell him about the investigation—the full extent of it. She couldn't hide it anymore.
"I need to talk to you about my work for President Hayes," she started.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"I know about your work. You're investigating and working at Homeworld. You have full access to everything," Jack said slowly.
Sam swallowed.
"It's more than that, Jack. Let's take a seat in the living room," she suggested.
Intrigued, Jack followed her, and they both sat on the couch. She was clearly nervous.
"The President ordered me to leave no stone unturned—no matter how high or obscure. So, when I started my work at Homeworld, I developed a complex algorithm that ran through all Homeworld and SGC personnel files, analyzing numerous variables. The aim was to identify any connections, any links based on key data I inputted, to uncover who might be involved in this operation and whose loyalty had been compromised. The President wanted a thorough sweep, no matter who was implicated," Sam explained, her voice measured but laden with the weight of her confession.
Jack's face drained of color.
"Are you telling me the President thought I was involved? That I was under suspicion?" he asked, his eyes narrowing, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper.
Sam nodded slowly.
"At one point, he suspected everyone. You, Landry… everyone. My job was to prove him wrong. And I did. But it wasn't just about clearing others; I had to defend myself also. The very integrity of the investigation depended on it. I couldn't let doubt taint the process when the truth was on the line. The stakes were too high to let bias creep in."
Jack stared at her, his mouth falling open in stunned disbelief.
"Well, jeez… Thanks, Carter. Thanks a lot. Where exactly does this 'honesty' you're so fond of talking about come into play? Only when it's convenient for you?" His words were laced with biting sarcasm.
Sam had anticipated this reaction, but it didn't lessen the sting. She knew he was right.
"I know I was wrong, Jack, but I had explicit orders not to tell you. In fact, I'm violating those orders right now by even telling you this. But I can't keep these secrets from you anymore. It's been eating me alive," she admitted, her voice cracking.
Jack abruptly rose from the couch, his movements stiff, as if the weight of her words had suddenly become too much to bear. He couldn't bring himself to look at her.
"I… I don't know what to say. I'm speechless. Blindsided. You're damn good at keeping secrets, Colonel Carter," he said, his tone now frosty, his use of her title cutting through the remaining warmth between them.
Sam swallowed hard, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill over.
"Yeah… I can't argue with that," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack turned his back to her, his eyes landing on the fireplace. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, but his thoughts were a chaotic swirl, like a blender set on high. Just minutes ago, he had asked her to move into his bedroom to take their relationship to the next level. Now, they were on the verge of breaking apart, all because of secrets she'd kept under the President's orders.
The silence between them grew heavy, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Sam knew she had crossed a line that might not be easily repaired. Jack's trust was shattered, and she feared that, no matter how much she tried to explain, things would never be the same again. She had been prepared for this moment, but the reality of it was far worse than she had imagined.
Finally, Jack spoke, his voice distant and cold.
"I need some time, Sam. To think. To process all of this. I just… I need to be alone right now."
Sam nodded, though he couldn't see her. She wanted to say something, anything to make it better, but she knew there were no words that could undo the damage that had been done. She quietly gathered her things, feeling the weight of his unspoken words pressing down on her.
"I'll stay in the guest room," she said softly.
She paused on the stairs, hoping he would say anything to give her a glimmer of hope that they could work through this. But the silence remained, and with a heavy heart, she climbed the remaining steps, unsure if they would ever find their way back to each other.
Jack lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind replayed Sam's revelation repeatedly, like a broken record. The fact that Sam had been conducting secret reports for the President felt like a betrayal. The thought of her scrutinizing him under orders—orders that placed him under suspicion—sent a chill through him. He felt hurt, angry, and disoriented. The woman he loved had been hiding things from him, which cut more profound than any mission gone wrong.
He couldn't sleep. Restless, Jack got up, paced the room, then sat on the edge of the bed. He saw Sam's face whenever he closed his eyes as she told him everything. He had seen her guilt, her regret, and he knew she hadn't made those choices lightly. But still, it hurt. He rubbed his eyes, frustration mounting with each passing minute. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to talk to her.
Jack walked down the hallway and stopped in front of the guest room door. He took a deep breath and knocked softly. There was no response at first, but he could see the light under the door and hear the faint sound of Sam shifting in bed. He opened the door slightly and noticed her staring at the wall. Her eyes were puffy and red; it was clear she had been crying.
"Are you awake?" Jack asked quietly.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to look at him. Her voice was soft, a mix of exhaustion and sadness.
"Yeah. I'm awake."
Jack stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a lamp casting long shadows. He noticed the book by her bedside—untouched, a clear sign she hadn't been reading. He sat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep some distance, unsure how to bridge the gap between them.
"Can we talk?" Jack asked, his voice steady but lined with tension.
Sam nodded, sitting up slowly. She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them close to her chest. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence filled with the weight of everything unsaid.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Jack finally broke the silence, his voice edged with hurt. "We've been through so much together, Sam. How could you keep something like this from me?"
Sam took a shaky breath, her gaze dropping to the bedspread.
"I wanted to, Jack. God, I wanted to so many times. But the orders were clear—I was not to tell anyone. Not even you. Once you were cleared, I asked President Hayes permission to tell you, but he said no. It could compromise the investigation. I was forbidden to tell. I still am," she added in a whisper.
Jack shook his head, trying to process it all.
"Do you know what it's like to hear that the President thought I could be a traitor? That you were watching me, reporting on me?" His voice cracked slightly, the pain evident.
Sam's eyes filled with tears again.
"I wasn't watching you, Jack. I was doing my job—my duty. It wasn't about you. It was about finding the truth and protecting our people. But I never, ever believed you were involved. Not for a second."
Jack clenched his fists, the frustration boiling over.
"But you still did it. You still went along with it. You didn't trust me enough to find another way."
Sam wiped her tears with her hand, her voice trembling.
"It wasn't about trust, Jack. It was about following orders. In the end, President Hayes is our commander in chief. If he orders you something, you follow his orders and don't question them. You know that, Jack. I was trying to protect you, to clear your name. I thought I was doing the right thing, even if it meant keeping you in the dark. I only wanted to find who was behind your attack and prove your innocence. Hayes, at some point, suspected you were involved in Trevor Adams's death. I had to prove to him that he committed suicide."
They sat in silence again, the air thick with unresolved tension. Jack leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He knew Sam was right, but it didn't make it easier. He loved her, and that love was a tangled web of duty, loyalty, and the complications of their lives.
"I'm going to talk to the President," Jack said, lifting his head. He had asked for the meeting for entirely different reasons, but now he was ready to confront Henry Hayes if needed. "If Hayes has something to say, he can say it to my face. And don't worry—I won't tell him you told me about the reports."
Sam looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the man she knew.
" I'm very sorry, Jack. I never wanted to hurt you."
Jack sighed, his anger slowly ebbing away. He looked at Sam, seeing the weight she had been carrying. Despite everything, he couldn't deny his love for her, no matter how much he tried.
"I know. And I'm sorry, too, for not understanding sooner. It…it just took me completely by surprise. I wasn't expecting this of Hayes. I know you were following orders."
He hesitated momentarily, then reached out, his hand finding hers. The simple touch sent a wave of warmth through both of them.
"Do you… do you still want to come to my room? I don't want to be alone tonight."
Sam nodded, relief washing over her face.
"I'd like that."
They rose in unison, a silent agreement passing between them, and without exchanging another word, they made their way to Jack's room. The hurt was still fresh, and the trust fragile, but being together felt like a small victory for that moment.
Jack's arm found its way around Sam as they lay on the bed, gently drawing her closer. She nestled into him, her head resting against his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. The warmth of his embrace offered a fleeting sense of comfort, a quiet reminder of the connection they once had and the hope that it could be mended.
Sam, however, couldn't find peace in sleep. Her eyes stared into the darkness, tracing the faint outlines of the room as her mind raced with unanswered questions and lingering doubts. Jack's chest's soft rise and fall should have been soothing, but it only magnified her restless thoughts. Was he asleep, lost in his dreams, or was he lying there, burdened by the same unease?
She listened intently, counting his breaths, trying to match her own with his in some silent rhythm. The minutes stretched into hours, and the stillness of the night seemed to amplify every whisper of uncertainty in her heart. She wondered if they could find their way back to each other or if this closeness echoed what once was.
Jack's grip tightened occasionally as if reassuring himself of her presence. Whether it was a reflex in his sleep or a conscious gesture, Sam couldn't tell, but she found herself clinging to those small moments. They lay there, two souls tangled in a web of unspoken fears and fragile hopes, knowing the road ahead would be long and uncertain.
For now, the silence spoke for them, a shared promise that, despite the pain, they were willing to try. Sam stayed awake through the night, caught between the comfort of his touch and the uncertainty of what the morning would bring. In that fragile stillness, it was enough to be there, side by side, navigating the space between the past and whatever lay ahead.
Jack stood before President Hayes' desk in his dress blues, his stance firm, his expression a mix of determination and frustration. Feeling the moment's intensity, Hayes leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing Jack with a calm but curious gaze.
"General O'Neill," Hayes greeted, his tone measured. "What's on your mind?"
Jack didn't waste any time.
"I need to know if there's something you're not telling me about Colonel Carter's assignment, Mr. President."
Hayes' expression shifted, his eyebrows raising slightly.
"Jack, you're going to have to be more specific."
Jack's eyes narrowed, his voice carrying a hint of the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
"I'm talking about the investigation she's been conducting. The secret reports you ordered her to make." He had promised her not to tell Hayes, but she hadn't been honest with him in the first place.
For a moment, Hayes remained silent, his gaze steady as he weighed his response.
"You know about that," he finally said, a statement more than a question.
Jack nodded.
"I do. What I want to know is why. As Head of Homeworld Security, I believe I'm entitled to be aware of national security investigations, Sir."
Hayes sighed, a look of weariness crossing his face.
"After the toxin attack, I couldn't afford to take any chances. I needed someone I could trust completely to dig into every corner, every possibility of who might have been behind it."
"So you ordered Carter to investigate everyone," Jack said bluntly. "Including me. The Head of Homeworld Security that you choose personally."
Hayes' gaze didn't falter.
"Including everyone, Jack. You, General Landry, everyone at SGC and Homeworld. This wasn't about personal trust; it was about national security. Someone got hold of a hazardous alien toxin without anyone noticing. That's a hell of a security breach!"
Jack's jaw tightened.
"And what did you think you'd find? Did you really think I could be involved in some plot against you? That I decided to poisened myself for what? Attention? A little drama?"
Hayes shook his head, leaning forward.
"Of course not. It's not your type, Jack. But I couldn't ignore any possibility, not after what happened. I didn't like it, but I needed someone who wouldn't let personal feelings cloud their judgment. And Lieutenant Colonel Carter… she was the best person for the job."
Jack's voice grew colder.
"So, you kept me in the dark. You put her in a position where she had to spy on her people, on me. Don't you think that's a betrayal? After everything, I've done for you?"
Hayes' expression hardened slightly.
"I don't apologize for making tough decisions regarding the security of this nation. But I will tell you this—Colonel Carter went to extraordinary lengths to prove your innocence, Jack. Above and beyond what I asked of her. She didn't rest until she was absolutely sure there was no evidence pointing to you or Landry."
Jack was silent for a moment, absorbing Hayes' words. The tension in the room was thick, the air charged with the unspoken conflict between duty and personal loyalty.
Hayes continued, his tone softening.
"She was under a lot of pressure, Jack. I don't think you even have a real notion of the pressure she was under since she was summoned from Colorado Springs to D.C. and stood before me and accepted the assignment. She had to balance her duty to her country and her loyalty to you. And she did it without compromising either. I'm telling you this because you must understand—she cleared your name and protected you, even when others might have folded."
Jack exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"I'm putting my job on the line, Mr. President. If you want me to resign, I will."
Hayes leaned back, a heavy sigh escaping him.
"Sit down, Jack."
Jack hesitated, then took a seat. Hayes rubbed his temples as if trying to relieve the burden of his responsibilities.
"I'm not accepting your resignation. Not now, not ever. I need you right where you are. And as much as this whole situation stinks, I trust you, Jack. And Colonel Carter—she proved that trust wasn't misplaced."
Jack nodded slowly, the anger in his eyes giving way to a complex mix of emotions.
"I don't like being kept in the dark, Sir."
"I know," Hayes acknowledged. "And believe me, Jack, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was essential. Sometimes, in this job, I have to make decisions that don't sit well with everyone, including myself."
Jack swallowed, his resolve returning.
"Understood, Mr. President."
Hayes watched him closely, the tension easing slightly.
"I'm glad that is cleared. Is there anything else, Jack? You mentioned something private over the phone."
Jack paused, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. Then he looked up, meeting Hayes' gaze directly.
"Yes, Sir. There is one more thing. It's personal. And now I'm reluctant to talk about it."
Hayes nodded, his expression attentive. "Go ahead."
Jack took a deep breath. He was already there, so he might as well take care of it.
"It's about Colonel Carter… and me, Sir."
Hayes nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth for the first time since they started talking.
"Go on."
Jack swallowed hard.
"You know, Sir, we've been through a lot together over the years," Jack began, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet urgency. "The rules about fraternization were always there, standing between us. But I can't ignore how things have changed between us, how they've evolved."
He took a deep breath, the weight of his following words pressing down on him like the total weight of the military command.
"I'm here to request permission to marry Carter… Sam, Sir. Even with the potential complications that might arise."
He hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through his usually unshakable demeanor.
"That is if she even wants to marry me, of course. Which, as of this moment, I don't actually know," he admitted, his voice breaking just slightly, betraying the vulnerability behind his usually stoic exterior. "This was supposed to be more of an exploratory conversation, Sir. Before I knew about the whole investigation thing…"
Hayes leaned forward, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to something more serious, although a glimmer of amusement was dancing in his eyes. It was clear that Jack was out of his depth.
"So, let me get this straight," Hayes said, his tone even but edged with the faintest hint of a smirk. "You're here asking for permission to marry her, but you haven't actually asked her if she wants to marry you? Is that right?"
Jack nodded, his face a study in restrained tension, his jaw clenched as if the act of speaking might unravel him completely. He wasn't accustomed to being this vulnerable, especially not in front of a superior officer. The room seemed to close in on him, and he could feel a bead of sweat forming at his temple, trickling down his forehead. The Head of Homeworld Security, a man who had stood unflinchingly in the face of intergalactic threats, was now standing on the precipice of personal uncertainty.
Hayes observed Jack, noting the uncharacteristic sheen of sweat on his forehead and the slight tremble in his usually steady hands. It was rare to see the seasoned leader in such a state, and the moment's irony wasn't lost on Hayes. After what they had discussed, with his professional reputation on the line, without so much as a flinch, he was now visibly unsettled by the prospect of laying his heart bare.
Jack's discomfort was palpable, yet there was something almost endearing about it. It was a reminder that even the most hardened soldiers were human, with hopes, fears, and dreams that extended beyond the battlefield. Hayes felt sympathy for him; he knew this wasn't easy. This was Jack O'Neill—the man who had made a career out of tough calls and impossible missions—now humbled by a simple, yet profoundly personal, question of the heart.
"Well, Jack," Hayes finally said, breaking the silence that had stretched too long. His voice was softer now, lacking its earlier teasing edge. "If I were you, I'd start with asking her."
Jack nodded again, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips.
"I suppose you are worried about the ripple it can cause in the chain of command, especially if she returns to the SGC?" Hayes asked.
Jack swallowed hard.
"Yes, Sir. However, with her current assignment ending soon, I thought it might be the right time to address it. If she's assigned to another post, not SGC or Homeworld, like here at the Pentagon, the direct chain of command issue wouldn't be a problem."
Hayes considered this, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Jack.
"And if she does go back to the SGC?"
"We can work around it, Sir. You have the power to make it happen if you want to, as you proved with her investigation. We've given everything to this program, and I believe we've earned the right to have a personal life, too."
Hayes finally smiled, leaning back in his chair again.
"You make a strong case, Jack. And I've seen the two of you in action. After everything that has happened to both of you lately, I think the rules can bend a bit for two of my best officers. Consider your request approved. But keep it discreet until we make it official. Or at least you know she wants to marry you."
Jack let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Thank you, sir."
As Jack left the Oval Office, the weight of the conversation lingered, but he felt a sense of clarity for the first time in a long while. He knew what he had to do, both for his duty and for the woman he loved.
While Jack met the President in the morning, Sam was scheduled to meet him after lunch. After her admission the night before, she could only imagine how the meeting between the two men had gone.
Sam sat across from President Hayes, her posture straight and professional, but the fatigue and tension from her earlier conversation with Jack lingered in her eyes. She had applied makeup to mask the effects of her sleepless night, but a keen observer could still detect the signs of exhaustion. Hayes watched her with a thoughtful expression, aware of her burden.
"Colonel Carter," Hayes began, his voice calm but carrying the authority of his office. "I commend you on your outstanding job uncovering the compromised personnel within the SGC and Homeworld. As we speak, those individuals are being taken into custody. Besides, you've saved us from havoc with international repercussions but did it in a very controlled way."
"Thank you, Sir. It was a team effort, really."
Hayes nodded.
"Humility—another one of your virtues. But not this time, Colonel. You came immediately when General O'Neill's life was in danger; you stood by while he recovered, and I imagine that couldn't have been easy. That man is a pain. And you did the most challenging part of what I asked you. You conducted a secret investigation only for me. So, there was no team effort. It was just you."
Sam nodded in acknowledgment, but her expression remained neutral, her face a mask of professionalism.
Hayes leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.
"I can see this wasn't easy for you. Don't take this the wrong way, but you look drained and have the right to. It was a long and stressful assignment. What I asked you to do was no simple task—especially given the secrecy required. But it was necessary for the security of our country, and you followed my orders to the letter."
"Yes, Sir," Sam replied, her tone respectful but reserved.
Hayes observed the subtle tension in her posture, the way her hands clasped just a bit too tightly in her lap. He decided to address the unspoken burden.
"Investigating General O'Neill and General Landry must have been particularly difficult for you."
Sam's eyes flickered, a hint of emotion breaking through her composed facade.
"Yes, Sir. It was… challenging. I wasn't just investigating them—I had to scrutinize my entire SG-1 team. These are people I've trusted with my life, Sir. I don't know if they'll ever be able to trust me again."
Hayes nodded, his expression softening.
"I understand your predicament, Colonel. It's difficult to carry the weight of duty when it means putting personal relationships on the line. You did what was necessary, and that's never easy, especially when it involves those closest to you."
Sam swallowed, trying to keep her emotions in check.
"I just did what I was ordered to do, Sir."
"And you did it exceptionally well," Hayes affirmed. He paused, then continued with a more personal tone. "I know it's not much of a consolation, but I want to offer you something in return for your service and sacrifices. A promotion, a reassignment—whatever you want. Even a personal favor, if there's something that would make this easier for you."
Sam looked up, surprised by the unexpected offer. Hayes' words felt genuine, but they only added to the chaos in her mind.
"That's very generous, Sir. I appreciate it. I just… I need some time to think about it. My mind is… a bit of a mess right now."
Hayes nodded, understanding the turmoil she was experiencing. He saw the conflict in her eyes—the struggle between her sense of duty and her desires. He also recognized the look of someone in love, a look he'd seen earlier that day when Jack stood before him. Hayes chose his following words carefully, not wanting to intrude on the private matters between her and Jack.
"Take all the time you need, Colonel," Hayes said gently. "And know that whatever you decide, you've got my full support. I'm not abandoning you after all you've done for me and this country. If anyone gives you a hard time because of my assignment, you let me know. It's an order."
Sam rose from her chair, saluting him.
"Yes, Sir, and thank you, Mr. President."
As she turned to leave, Hayes watched her go, knowing the weight of her choices would not be easily lifted.
"Good luck, Sam," he said softly as the door closed behind her.
As Sam stepped out of the Oval Office and into the bright corridor of the West Wing, the weight of President Hayes' words still hung heavy in her mind. The quiet click of her heels on the polished floor echoed louder than usual, each step pulling her further away from the intense discussion she'd just had. She felt a mixture of pride and uncertainty swirling inside her, with the President's offer replaying in her head like a looping message.
She reached the exit and paused momentarily, blinking against the bright afternoon sunlight pouring through the glass doors. A Secret Service agent nodded at her as she stepped outside, the crisp air hitting her face and cutting through the fog of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but the conversation in the Oval Office remained front and center. The President had offered her anything she wanted—an escape, a new assignment, or even a personal favor. It was an offer she couldn't take lightly.
Could she really step away from SG-1? From the fight against the Ori?
Her military instincts and sense of duty clashed with the personal desires she had long buried. Jack's face flashed in her mind. Until recently, she knew what he wanted: for her to stay close, to build something more permanent with him, without the shadow of regulations and danger constantly hanging over them. But now, after everything that had happened?
As she walked toward the waiting car that would take her back to Homeworld Security, the decision began to settle in her mind. There was something exhilarating about being given the freedom to choose, but it was terrifying, too. She had spent much of her life making choices based on duty, responsibility, and honor. Now, for the first time, she was confronted with the question of what she truly wanted—not just what was expected of her.
The drive back to Homeworld Security was a blur. Sam stared out the window, watching the city pass by but barely registering the familiar sights. Hayes' words added to the turmoil she was already feeling. She couldn't shake the thought of how this assignment had affected her relationships, especially with Jack. The idea of being reassigned, of starting over somewhere else, seemed like both an escape and a potential loss of everything she valued. Should she walk away from everything she knew and start over? Ignore her feelings again and do her duty as she had always done?
Arriving at Homeworld, she stepped out of the car and walked through the halls, her steps feeling heavier than usual. She reached her desk and sat down, her gaze falling on the photo of her SG-1 team. They were smiling, caught in a rare moment of joy. It struck her how much she missed those simpler times—before orders and secret investigations complicated everything.
She exhaled deeply, trying to clear her mind. There was so much at stake—her duty, loyalty, and the fragile hope of a future with Jack. The President's offer loomed significant, a decision that could change everything. But it wasn't just about following orders or protecting the galaxy this time. It was about her life, future, and finding a balance between her heart and sense of duty.
She couldn't ignore the pull she felt toward SG-1. That team wasn't just a job; it was her family, her purpose. The fight against the Ori wasn't over, and so much work remained to do. She could feel the call to action deep in her bones.
"It's who I am," she thought. "It's what I was meant to do."
But then there was Jack. Their most recent discussion revealed that their relationship was no longer a forbidden secret but something real, tangible, but, above all, very fragile. She thought about how it felt to be in his arms, to hear him say he loved her, and to see the vulnerability in his eyes. For a man who rarely let down his guard, his openness had shaken her. And so did his hurt. She had hurt him again, and this time, it was professionally. She was following orders, but she had seen his disappointment. Were they back to the starting position? To where they were when she arrived in Washington D.C. after a year without speaking to each other? She wanted a future, not going back to the past.
But what about him?
She glanced around at the files stacked neatly on her desk, her eyes lingering on the framed photo of her with Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c, taken during a rare downtime off-world. They were smiling, carefree, and for a second, she could almost hear their laughter.
Duty or happiness? The decision wasn't as clear-cut as she had hoped.
Sam sank into her chair, her hand absentmindedly tracing the edge of a folder. She had never been one to back down from a challenge, but this choice felt different. She knew she needed to choose soon, but she allowed herself a moment of stillness for now. Whatever decision she made, it would be her own.
With a determined glimmer in her eyes, she resolved to face whatever came next, one step at a time. After all, she thought, a small, determined smile forming on her lips, it was never easy.