Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam felt distraught. Pete had asked her to marry him. She should be happy, she should have answered him in a heartbeat, but she couldn’t. She’d stared at him, wide-eyed, stared at the ring, but her mind was elsewhere. Her mind showed her shimmering gold-brown eyes, a rueful smile. Her body had felt a simple touch, a hand on her shoulder, leg, or back. She’d felt the comfort his shoulder always gave her, the comfort of the unspoken words had always given her, his presence, his scent. Pete hadn’t pressed her for an answer, said he’d wait, but how could she answer him if her mind was elsewhere? Her mind was with the only one she wanted to say ‘yes’ to, and he didn’t even having to finish the question in the first place.

She wiped the steam off of the mirror. She gazed at herself. She felt like she was cheating, not on Pete but on him. She felt useless, torn, even a little afraid. She closed her eyes, mussing her hair in an automated motion, dressing herself with an automated motion, angry and frustrated. Memories shot through her like hot needles, pricking her, stabbing her, pinching and piercing her heart.

‘No!’

His voice had been so loud, so desperate. Stuck on Apophis his ship, Jaffa rolling in, stuck behind a force field they couldn’t break. His eyes, his stance, bordering on frantic.

‘Just go!’

She remembered so clearly, so vividly, how he would not leave. She felt the pain, hot and searing. He had to leave. She would not watch him die. She couldn’t. She needed him to live otherwise she would have died herself. Somewhere a phone rang and she willed herself back to the present. She left the bathroom as it were and looked at the number that was dialing in. Pete. She turned on her heels and walked to the kitchen where she grabbed a beer from the fridge, her mind stuck in the cacophony of words that were mixing with the forbidden feelings in her heart.

‘Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself. Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. Lose Carter. Just go! No! A lot more than I’m supposed to. Supposed to. Supposed to. A lot more. None of this has to leave this room. Just go! No! We’re okay with that?’

She knew she should have said ‘no’ when he’d asked her that. She should have thrown the door wide-open, taken it off the hinges, smash Anise in the face with it. She closed her eyes and sank into the couch. His voice, the only voice that had ever been able to reach her heart so quickly, so fully. He sang the song of her heart, not Pete, not anyone else but him. She took another sip of beer, allowing what she’d hidden for so long to surface slowly. She put the beer on the table and grabbed the throw from the back of the couch. She snuggled into it, hearing his voice as if he were laying next to her, holding her.

‘We’re okay with that?’

“No,” Sam muttered as she felt her eyelids close. “Absolutely not.”

Chapter Text

Sam woke with a start. A phone was ringing. She sat up, stretched her back, rubbed her eyes and gazed round at the number that was flashing in red. Pete. She got up and padded to the bathroom instead. She turned on the shower before grabbing her toothbrush, gazing at a haggard version of herself. Mussed hair, harrowing look, despair in her eyes. Despair. She felt it rip through her as she saw dark chocolate pools swirl in her mind. Him. She was cheating on him . She rubbed her face and stepped into the warm cascade. She showered quickly, heard her stomach growl loudly and closed her eyes. Cheating on him . Cheating.

‘We’re okay with that? Okay with that? We’re okay with that?’

The echo of his words was all around her, stroking her, making her cry just a little into the warm droplets. She let them drip down just like the suds dripped down into the tub and the water dripped on her bare back.

“No!” she desperately screamed into the warm stream of water. Then quieter: “I’m not okay with that. I’m not. Okay.”

‘K. Me neither.’

Her eyes shot open. She turned off the tap and looked up. Was it like back when, with Gracie? Was this her own mind warping? Making up answers she wanted to hear? But Gracie had turned her away from him, made her give in, give up what she felt as he didn’t feel for her like she did for him. Gracie said so. Or had she given up? Had she talked herself into it? Into giving up? Giving him up, her feelings for him? All it had done was present Pete. What it had not done was lessen her feelings for him, and him alone. She was cheating on him. She loved him, he loved her, and she was cheating on him.

‘Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself. Just go! No! I’m not okay with that! Then lose Carter. Lose Carter. A lot more than I’m supposed to. Just go! No! No, am not okay with that.’

She wiped her face, willing her mind to the present, shutting the voices down, shooing the memories aside, and got out of the shower. She dried herself off, and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She dressed with an automated motion, mussed her hair with an automated motion, and walked to the kitchen. She made a big pot of strong coffee, opened the cabinet and grabbed the box of fruit loops. As the coffee was slowly dripping into the pot, it was as if time slowed as well. Drip, drip, drip, as outside a slow beat of gentle drip, drip, drip started to caress the window.

“I’m not okay with that,” she muttered at the rain-streaked window.

‘Were you ever tempted to do something crazy?’

She remembered his smile, at the table in the briefing room. Smiling, eyes shades darker than normal, but smiling at her. Like his smile was only for her. Something crazy. His smile for her.

‘What are you smiling at?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Were you ever tempted to do something crazy?’

She poured a bowl full of fruit loops and stuck a few straight into her mouth, chewing as the phone rang again. She walked into the livingroom and saw the number flash in red. Pete. She swallowed, stared at the red numbers for the briefest of moments before walking back to the kitchen. She poured a mug full of coffee and stared out at the rain beating against the window. Did you do something crazy? Did you? Something crazy?

“Did you?” she whispered into the hot dark liquid, liquid that reminded her of the bright golden swirls in his eyes. Swirling whenever he looked at her, smiled at her, held her, comforted her.

‘Maybe.’

She froze. His voice had been so clear as if he’d stood right behind her. She turned but no one was standing behind her. The clattering rain was intersected by a loud thunder which startled her. She looked over at the little blue box Pete had given her. It seemed to follow her around the house. Just like the guilt did, guilt for cheating on him. The blue color felt demure to her. She felt demure, distraught. She opened it and saw the ring nestled in blue velvet. She knew she was the crazy one for having taken it, knew she had to give Pete the answer, but she wanted, longed, to answer to someone else. She closed the box and frowned.

“What did you do?” she whispered to the stormy clouds. The storm mimicking how her heart always felt when he drew her near, touched her, held her, smiled at her. A myriad of emotions thundered through her as she waited with baited breath.

‘I kissed you.’

The mug clattered to the floor, spilling the contents and smashing to pieces. It was exactly how she felt, smashed to pieces. He’d kissed her, in a moment where it was allowed but a moment she’d never remember. He’d kissed her. He. Kissed her.

‘We’re okay with that?’

She smiled, she cried and smiled at the thunder outside. She simply nodded, cried and smiled. A brief moment of relief washed over her, mimicked by the broad beam of lightning outside. Relief, release, electric. Gracie had been so wrong, she’d been so, so wrong. Wrong about how he felt, for her. Why else would he have kissed her? One stolen moment, one moment were it was allowed and forgotten, and he’d told her. He told her how he felt. He’d kissed her simply because he’d wanted to kiss her. Her and no one else.

‘I’m okay with that too.’

Chapter Text

Sam sat bend forward on the couch, arms on her knees, the dratted demure blue box in front of her on the table demanding an answer. She let out the silent tears she’d felt pricking in her eyes since she learned he’d kissed her in the three month loop-da-loop. Kissed her because he’d wanted to kiss her. She again saw his smile for her, the cheeky golden shimmer in darkbrown pools as he had gazed at her across the table in the briefing room, pools she wanted to drown in and never surface again. Outside the thunderstorm had increased ferociously. Bright flashes mixed with the gloomy afternoon darkness at increasing intervals, fueling the emotional storm raging within her. She swallowed, her throat dry, her face wet, and she blew her nose into an already damp tissue.

‘What did you do? Kissed you. Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. Just go! No! I’m okay with that. A lot more than I’m supposed to. Supposed to. I kissed you. Just go! No! I’m okay with that.’

She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose once more. Memories swirled around her, and she let them swirl, increasing the feelings like the increasing thunder, increasing her feelings like the lightning illuminating the livingroom. Electric shocks each time a memory shot through her.

‘Kissed you. We’re okay with that?’

“Yeah,” she muttered. “But. I want to feel it. I want to kiss you just as much.”

‘Same.’

Startled she looked up, looked round, but all she heard was the pelting rain, the electric thunder and the raging winds. It fueled her emotional state to the max and she got up, rubbing her face with both hands as her mind flashed a tanned color of brown. His arm around her, her head on his shoulder. A different, less complicated life, a life with feeling, a life without boundaries, rules and regulations.

‘I remember feeling feelings.’

Her emotions crashed down on her, enveloped her, making her jump up in sheer anxiety. That moment, when they could have been more, she was feeling feelings bubble deep inside her like searing hot lava. She felt something else too. Breathing. A gentle sigh across her wet face. She smelled something else too. Pine trees and sandalwood, mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She turned into the quiet of her livingroom and held her breath.

“I remember your touch,” she said to the quiet TV. “I remember feeling feelings.”

‘Same.’

“Why not tell me?” she whispered, but no answer came.

The answer she needed was obvious. Chain of command, forbidden feelings that kept raging in her heart, in her whole being. He took an opportunity to answer his own need. To kiss her. He could never tell her how he truly felt, the door being closed after they’d spoken them out loud, leaving them in that wretched room. Pete had asked her to marry him, she’d let that relationship grow against what she truly felt. Her need for him. What are friends for? He’d asked her that, but was it in her own mind warping? To hold onto something that was safe as opposed to go for it? She rushed to the kitchen, practically rammed the cabinet door out of its hinges and dumped her toolbox atop the counter. She’d take that damn door off its hinges herself. Toss it out. Toss it through the damn gate, Anise along with it, broken nose included. Zat’arc my ass, she thought as she grabbed the drill.

“Why not tell me!” she screamed at the rain-streaked window. “Why not tell me,” she then sobbed. “Why not tell me? Why not tell me? Why not?”

‘Why not tell me, sir.’

Despite her anxious tears she burst out laughing and let the drill fall to the floor. Again she felt a soft breath across her tear-streaked face, a comforting breath, sandalwood, mint and pine, a breath telling her to stop crying and start feeling feelings. She turned and walked back to the livingroom. She dropped herself on the couch and grabbed the throw from the floor. She wiped her eyes, laid back and stared at the ceiling.

“Yes, sir,” she muttered, wiping her face.

‘Sir.’

The mutter was demure, dejected, almost sad. She felt the sadness coil within her, felt his sadness as if it were her own emotion. Felt him, a brief moment, a whispered touch tickling on her stomach. She smiled, savoring the touch, the soft breath, the scents. It was him. How, she didn’t know, but she knew it was him. She’d always know it was him. She’d know from a thousand breaths, a thousand touches, a thousand scents and a thousand words. It was him. She steadied her breathing as the phone rang. She knew it was Pete and didn’t even bother getting up. She wanted to savor this moment, this moment outside of time and space, a moment with him. Their moment. She closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her as the rain washed over the planet.

‘Sir. Yes sir. What did you do? Kissed you. Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself. I remember feeling feelings. Just go! No! Kissed you. Lose Carter. Sir, yes sir. I’m okay with that. A lot more than am supposed to. Just go! No! A lot more. Kissed you.’

His comforting voice, his arm around her, his shouting, screaming, not wanting to leave, kissing her, his scent, shoulder, touch, breath, his chocolate lava eyes swirling with flecks of gold, his smile. It was more than enough to sooth her into a restful sleep.

Chapter Text

Sam woke up from her nap, yawned, stretched, wrapped the throw around her for comfort, and looked at the ceiling. One of her most treasured memories was floating there, the memories of his golden-flecked brown eyes staring at her across the table with a cheeky smile. She smiled back, not wanting to get up but stay like this, praying for a gentle touch across her bare stomach. The lightning outside had other ideas as with one bright flash the memory was gone. She rubbed her face and sat up, pushing the throw off of her legs. With a deep sigh, she got up and went to the kitchen, ignoring the ringing of the phone, ignoring Pete. She’d told him she needed time, he told her he’d give her time. So why ring? Why keep ringing incessantly? She knew she didn’t need time, she needed him and him alone. With an angry growl she tossed a ready-meal into the microwave and grabbed a beer. She opened it, tossed the cap in the sink and stared out at the looming clouds that indicated more rain was on the way. She sighed as she took a sip. Memories flashed though her mind as the horizontal lightning streaked through the skies. Her. Him kissing her, the other Sam.

“Why did you kiss her?” she asked as the thunder rolled though the quiet of her kitchen.

No answer came as the microwave pinged. She turned, opened the door, opened the wrapping, stirred her meal, and tossed it back in. She slammed the door shut hard enough for the handle to come off, and she added ‘microwave’ to her shopping list. She pushed the button for another five minutes and looked back at the incessant rain darkening the already gloomy evening. Gloomy, as she felt a gloomy inside. She loved him and she’d cheated on him. He loved her, had kissed her, and she’d walked off. The rain mimicked the sad tears she felt pricking again, mimicking the sadness she felt curling in her stomach, the despair seeing him kiss her, not her but her nonetheless.

‘Her?’

She startled, paused and leaned her arms on the kitchen island. She closed her eyes, feeling him around her, feeling as if he were here. She felt her lips tremble as she steadied herself. A gentle touch on her arm, a breath in her neck, the scent of sandalwood permeating the kitchen, overpowering the bubbling curry in the microwave. The memory crashed into her like a speed-train. She saw him kiss her, saw the tears on her other self’s face, saw the distraught, she felt the distraught as if it were her own emotion. She had lost him, just like she was about to lose him without ever having him.

‘That’s what friends are for. Sir. Yes sir. What did you do? Kissed you. Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. Just go! No! Lose Carter. I kissed you. I’m okay with that. What friends are for. Just go! No! Friends.’

The words slammed down in her mind so hard she felt herself reel. She grabbed the sides of the kitchen island with both hands to steady herself and squeezed, hard enough to make her fingers creak and her knuckles turn white. Thunder shattered the sky asunder, shattered her heart as she realized her mistake, realized what she should have done. Toss Anise, the rulebook, all cursed regulations and the damn door through the gate, wrap him up in her arms and kiss him with everything she felt coursing through her entire body, mind and heart.

‘As close as I could get to you.’

She pushed off, angry and sad at the same time. She looked up, took a deep breath and screamed: “I don’t want to be friends!”

‘Then let’s not be friends.’

Her phone rang again. She cursed, loudly, and walked into the livingroom. She cursed again when she saw the number flash bright red in the dimness of the evening gloom. Pete. Again. She looked back at where the demure box still sat on the table, and pursed her lips as silent tears fell. She felt her answer bubble as the thunder rolled around her house. No. She knew she had to say no, have Pete have a life he deserved, let herself be drowning in feelings and emotions of things that could never be. She sat down on the couch, put her face in her hands and simply cried.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” she sobbed, grabbing a clean tissue. “Why not me?”

‘I did.’

Her shoulders started to shake, all she ever felt for him came out in raking sobs. She needed him, close, she needed his touch, his shoulder, his love, his everything. She realized, then, she’d talked herself out of having him, waiting for him, needing him. She let the tears fall. She should never have wanted anything else. Friends. No. She wanted to be his. His lover, his shoulder, his comfort. His, whatever he needed her to be.

“The loop, yeah,” she whispered into the damp tissue. “I’ve made mistakes.”

‘We all do.’

“You.”

‘I kissed you. As close as I could get to you. What did you do? Kissed you, feeling feelings. Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. Lose Carter. I kissed you. I’m okay with that. Just go! No! Friends. A lot more than I’m supposed to.’

Sam got up, sighed against the incessant shouting in her mind, and walked to the bedroom, ready-meal forgotten. She felt torn. Duty. Chain of command. Career. But what she really wanted, the only thing she wanted, was him. To call her own. She let herself fall into the cold, empty bed, wishing he was beside her, waiting for her, wrapping her up in his arms and spooning in. She clung to the pillows and sighed deeply, seeing his golden-brown eyes gaze down on her. She sighed again, slowly getting lost in those lava-filled eyes filled with tiny golden explosions like little bolts of lightning. It soothed her, soothed her slowly to sleep.

Chapter Text

Sam bolted upright. A nightmare. A dream. A memory. She had been sitting in the commissary, eating her blue jell-o, when Daniel had sat down opposite her. She felt the memory starting to swirl through her mind. Daniel saying that, in the universe he’d been in, she’d been engaged to Jack, saying he loved her, died for her to give her time to fight off the Jaffa. Another loss. Another alternate reality, a realization that somehow the universe had been nudging them. More than once. Third time lucky? She didn’t know if that would count with her own reality, or that they would lose each other in this reality as well. She couldn’t lose him. Third time lucky. Yet, her own reality was an alternative reality to theirs, so why wouldn’t it? She knew. Him. It had always been him, in all three universes. Third time lucky. From the moment she’d met him, with his smug smile and dancing brown eyes, challenging her, she’d known. She’d accepted the challenge. She’d accepted him. She turned in her bed and grabbed the pillow tightly. Comfort. Him. Engaged, married, lost, but together nevertheless.

‘As long as I’m thinking about you, setting my sights on what I think is unobtainable, there’s no chance of being hurt by someone else.’

These words were her own. She heard herself say them, in her own voice. She had accepted his challenge, accepted him. So why had she pushed him away and chosen Pete? A life or safety? Comfort? Security? Not a life where she would face danger, loss, hurt? She saw his golden-flecked brown eyes clear in her mind, knew she needed to gaze into them, every morning, afternoon, evening, night. To have those eyes say to her what he needed from her, answering him with her own need for him. Him. Including the chance they could lose each other, but after they had actually had each other. That was more than worth her next heartbeat.

‘Jacob was right. You deserve more. I will always be there for you, no matter what. Believe me.’

Her breath came out in ragged gasps. She heard it. Loud and clear through the storms raging within her, the storms that had started to rage outside. His promise. But she deserved him, only him. And she knew he deserved her. Regardless of what the future held for them, it was still unwritten, anything could happen, despite what happened in the alternate universes. Their future was theirs to make, choices they’d make together, travel the road without a map, a map they would make together. She allowed his words to flow in her head, the deeply hidden feeling, the one of absolute love. Always. She knew it was up to her, and her alone, to take that step. The forbidden step for a love she craved more than she craved her next breath. It was all up to her now, despite the rules, regulations, chain of command, it was up to her.

“I believe you,” she muttered with a sigh. She felt his hand, his comfort. Smelled his scents all around her. “I deserve you, my only one.”

‘Am there for you.’

“Be with me,” she almost pleaded. His voice had not been as clear as right now, never that real in the memories cascading down. She knew she didn’t have to say it, but say it she did. “Please Jack.”

‘Always.’

It was as if she actually felt him. Wrap his arms around her, pulling her in, toward him. She felt him, all of him, smelled his scents, felt his warm breath brush across her shoulder. Sandalwood, pine, it drifted all around her like a soothing breeze. She saw his deep-brown eyes float along the ceiling, gazing down on her with unveiled hunger that made the gold flecks sparkle like glittering sunshine. In that moment, she turned onto her back. There was no one here, but she knew he was here. For her, and her alone. She didn’t care about the how or the why, she cared about him being here and feeling him. Feeling feelings. She whisked off her top and panties, and laid back. Waiting. Only for his touch. She felt a breath across her stomach, felt a touch just below her bellybutton. He was here. She closed her eyes, savoring the touch, savoring him. She felt him move across her skin, his breath warm, his touch electrifying. Outside the thunder grew, the bright lightning illuminated her bedroom in tandem with his searing touches. She heard herself moan, feeling her body respond to his breath, feeling the exquisite build-up of a momentum she could not hold back, nor break. A momentum she needed badly.

‘Always.’

She craned her neck. Thunder rolled through her as she felt him touch her intimately, feeling the pressures build up fast, his breath coming in faster, his touch quicker. If she could have, she wouldn’t have, as her hips started to move on their own accord, meeting his touch, his gentle breath. She pushed up, feeling his breath between her legs, and a moan escaped her lips in time with the brightest flash of lightning outside. She felt like lightning, she felt, feeling feelings well up from deep inside. Desire, love, need, want.

‘Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. A lot more than I’m supposed to.’

“Don’t die,” she groaned to the ceiling. “Be with me. Don’t go. Please, Jack. I need you.”

‘Always. I will never leave you.’

She crashed hard, her whole body becoming one with the thunderous lightning outside as she exploded like a supernova. She heaved, feeling complete for the first time in her life. Feeling nothing but his breath, his touch, smelling only sandalwood and pine trees as the rain pelted down. In that moment nothing else mattered but him, his breath and his touch.

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

Her eyes shot open. Grace. His touch was gone, his breath gone, his being, gone. No! She sat up, the bedroom quiet, the thunder rolling, the sky a looming gray in the early morning light. That had been her mistake, the choice she’d made, listening to her own stupid self, her own stupid mind. The biggest mistake she’d made. She knew what she had to do. She got up. She padded into the kitchen and startled as the phone rang again. Pete. She gazed at her reflection in the rain-streaked window and she knew exactly what she had to do. She felt like starlight, like a red giant exploding into a myriad of dazzling colors, come undone just moments ago by a simple breath, his breath, across her whole body. Twinkle indeed, boom more like it.

Chapter Text

With her body still tingling, her legs still a little shaky, Sam stepped into the shower. She pushed her face into the warm cascade of soothing droplets and grabbed the showergel. She took her time, letting her hands caress the creamy suds across her body, mimicking the soft caresses and breaths she’d felt only moments earlier. She touched the exact same spots where he’d touched her, breathed on her, and when she met those spots with her own hands the same feeling shot through her, flashing lightning, deep rolling thunder, coiling and coursing like an electric thunderstorm.

“Jack,” she muttered into the warm droplets. “Please, be with me.”

‘Always. I will never leave you.’

She felt his hands across her back, felt them go lower, felt his body against hers, smelled soft pine and sandalwood. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch as she felt him stroke across her backside, across her wet cheeks, in between her wet cheeks. The gentlest of touches across her tip, stroking with a dire need. She pushed back just a little, pushing gently into him. Feeling his breath in her neck as if he were actually in the shower with her. She felt his touch across her hips, a caress across her stomach, a body against hers. She pushed back once more, with just a little more force, letting him know her need, and felt the touch go right into her, felt a pull on her hips, drawing her in. She groaned softly at the sudden feel of him inside of her. Another push and a more forceful pull at her hips, a hot breath on her back. Something like a soft growl sounded around her as she felt the pressure increase, felt a hard pull on her hips, feeling him deep inside of her. She craned her neck into the warmth, feeling his hands, his breath, letting the storm take over. She savored it, touching herself at the same time he touched her, coming undone in mere seconds. She felt herself explode, the shockwaves making her tremble, and she closed her eyes as her vision was speckled with little bombs of golden lightning. With a deep exhale the turned off the shower, breathing fast, holding onto the wall, feeling nothing else but him.

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

He was gone as soon as Grace uttered those words. Gone because of the choice she made. Gone. She grabbed a towel, still feeling the crashing waves roll through her body. She mussed her hair and dried herself off, seeing a harrowed face looking back at her in the mirror. She looked tired but she felt better than yesterday, even better now, better than she’d ever felt in her entire life. In the distance a phone rang but she walked into the kitchen instead, ignoring it. Pete again. Somehow she needed these memories, these feelings, to make peace with her own choices, make peace with herself. She opened the fridge and grabbed the milk before making a decent pot of strong coffee. Hot lava Java, like the hot swirling lava she’d seen shimmering in his eyes. She opened the cabinet and grabbed the box of fruit loops, smiling to herself. His breath had been divine, his touch magical, the feeling exquisite. He’d been electric, lightning. The feel of him, mere minutes, inside of her, completing her. She could still feel his breath breezing across her skin.

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

“Shut up,” she growled, slamming down the bottle of milk hard enough to crack it.

With another angry growl she grabbed a cloth and shoved the pieces into the sink. She put her hands on the countertop, felt tears prick in her eyes. She took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of him inside her, focusing on his touch. Him touching her where she needed to be touched.

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

“Shut! Up!” she screamed as loudly as she could.

She wasn’t prepared for the stream of memories crashing down, into her heart, making her sob. Tears streamed down her face as she heard the voices echo in her mind. The times she’d almost lost him, like she’d lost him last night, like she lost him just now, like she could lose him forever. Sadness overwhelmed her, and she pushed her forehead against the kitchen cabinet. The weather outside mimicked how she felt, as suddenly a gray sheet of rain came down with sheer unrelenting force. Thunder followed, bathing her tear-streaked face in shimmering white electricity.

‘There were no detectable human life signs. It’s been almost a month Teal’c, if there were a way back. It just, it feels like we just lost Daniel, and I don’t know if I can… Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

She staggered to the livingroom and almost fell atop the couch. Sobs raked through her body. She turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, but she didn’t see his beautiful golden-brown eyes drift. She didn’t smell his scents, nor felt his breath. He was gone. She put her arm across her eyes at the memory of him crashing into the ocean, somewhere. No chute. Waving. She again felt the sheer relief wash over her, felt the tears on her face as they had finally located him. Alive.

‘This is Observer 1. There is no sign of a chute. No sign of a chute. No chute. Colonel O’Neill is conscious, and waving! Waving. Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” she cried desperately. “Please. Don’t do this.”

‘Sir, I just wanted to say – when you were lying there, I – I’m really glad you’re okay. When you were lying there. Lying there. C’mere.’

His arms around her, his face in her neck as she held on for dear life. Felt her love bubble. Felt her feelings for him course through her. She should have kissed him. Broken the rules and kissed him, tell him how she felt, the harrowing moment of seeing him lie there, on the ground, with smoke billowing around him was still in her mind. She’d felt so desperate. She’d not been able to do anything else but call for help. Desperate and anxious, scared beyond her wits. Sam rubbed her face and sat up with a sigh before getting up and walking back to the kitchen. She poured herself a coffee, seeing the hot dark liquid, liquid that reminded her of the bright golden swirls in his eyes. But she didn’t see his eyes, not even in her memory, nor the twinkling of the golden flecks that were such a comfort, she saw nothing.

‘It was an honor serving with you too, sir. I’m here, Jack. Just go! No! Sam, so cold. So cold. Feeling feelings. I kissed you. Just go! No! It’s my sidearm, I swear. I kissed you. No giggling, please. It’s alright, you can sleep now. I’m here, Jack. So cold. I kissed you. Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself. I’m here.’

“I’m here, Jack,” she whispered as thunder rolled through the kitchen. She turned, but he was not here. “I’m here, Jack. Please be here.”

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

“No! Go away! Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing her coffee mug against the wall.

Coffee splattered everywhere. She looked at the shards, feeling shattered herself, shattered by that one moment in which she’d made that choice, to let him go, to lose him. Choosing to lose him. Third time lucky seemed now so far away that she wasn’t even sure how to get it back. But she had to get it back. She had to. Whatever it took, she had to get it back. Trembling she walked back to the livingroom and let herself fall on the couch. She grabbed the throw and sobbed into it as lightning bathed the livingroom in a bright light.

“Why are you doing this? Please. Please, leave me alone.”

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

A flash. A memory that pained her. Memories that pained her deeply. The X-301 overshooting, the recall device propelling him into deep space, to a certain death if she couldn’t think of a solution fast enough. If she couldn’t, she’d lose him and she’d almost lost him. The slingshot that hadn’t worked, the desperation at finding him with the help of her father. Just in time. Seeing him just in time, suffering oxygen deprivation, being so cold. But she’d found him, just in time and the relief that had washed over her now came out in sad tears. Almost lost him. Choosing to lose him. The time he was imprisoned by Ba’al, dying over and over, the time he was infected, almost dying but for a symbiote. When she was told she was the only survivor of SG-1, forced to face a life without him. Lost him. Choosing. Encased in a tomb, deep freeze, when he’d been implanted with a Hathor symbiote, when he’d gone back into deep freeze. Almost lost him too often, almost. Her alts had lost him, so third time lucky? Would she be the lucky one? She’d come close to losing him on more occasions than she cared to remember, but she hadn’t until now. Now she could lose him, forever, as she had chosen to lose him.

‘Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

“I can’t lose him,” she cried in tandem with the pouring rain and rolling thunder. “I just can’t. I made a mistake! Please stop, it’s too much. Please.”

‘Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. A lot more than I’m supposed to. Then don’t lose me. Just go! No! I kissed you. Feeling feelings. As close as I could get to you. You. Just go. No! I will never leave you. Am there. Always. Don’t lose me.’

‘You know the answer, Sam. Twinkle, twinkle little star.’

‘I’m saying you’re missing something vital from your life. And the sad part is you have no idea what I’m talking about.’

“I do know, dad,” she cried, sobs now raking her entire being. Her shoulders shook with despair and her tears were hotter than hell. She grabbed the throw with such force her fingers cracked. “I do know. He is the vital part of my life, dad, it’s always been Jack.”

‘Then do something about it.’

“I can’t lose him.”

‘Then do something about it. Do something. Do!’

No, she couldn’t lose him. Ever. Her own stupid head on the Prometheus talking her out of the single decision she should have made. Hang on. Wait. Transfer. Telling him her truth. Grace had helped her realize her mistake, a life without him was not an option, it would never again be an option. Despite the harrowing memories, the devastating feelings all weekend and the incessant stream of tears, she was silently glad Grace had pushed her. Pushed to admit what she couldn’t do. Lose him. In her mind’s eye she saw the damn door burst out of its hinges with such force it blew out all the windows and caused an massive electric overload that sent a myriad of sparkles throughout the room. Tiny glittering diamonds fell in slow-motion around her shoulders. The whole scene was exactly how she felt, feeling all the feelings wash over her, and despite her tears she smiled. She let the feelings out of that wretched room into her whole being, the overload coiled through her as one electric resolve, setting her alight, the glittering diamonds akin the twinkling of the golden flecks in his eyes when he’d looked at her from across the table in the briefing room.

‘What did you do? I kissed you. Kissed you. Just go! No! NO! Stay! Always. I will never leave you. As close as I could get to you. Just go! No! Stay with me, Jack. Always.’

All of it crashed together in one perfectly clear moment, she loved him more than life, more than her next breath, more than another heartbeat, more than she could ever say. But she could show him, and she would show him, the rest of her life. Monday would be the perfect day. She would have him, not lose him, but be with him. Always.

Chapter Text

Sam plonked the ready-meal unceremoniously on the table and let herself fall atop the couch. She wasn’t that hungry but seeing as she’d forgone a meal or two yesterday, and ran out of milk this morning, she knew she had to eat something as dry fruit loops were more suitable to birds. She stirred the noodles before putting a laden fork into her mouth, and a sudden desire ran though her. Putting something else into her mouth. She felt a blush creep up her jaw and pursed her lips as she slowly chewed her food. Now that she’d let her own feelings out of that room, door included, Anise having her own flying carpet, the Broken Nose Glider, she let them coil, let them fill her mind. She closed her eyes as she thought about what his body looked like without anything on and remembered seeing him after his shower in the locker-room.

Broad, tanned, muscular and still damp. Glittering droplets inviting her to lick them off. Slowly.

‘Like what you saw?’

“Yeah,” she breathed, actually feeling his damp skin under her fingers.

She immediately felt a damp pressure building up between her legs and swallowed hard. She took another bite of her noodles, letting the strands swing a little, seeing the sauce slide down and drip back onto her plate. Drip, drip, like she herself had started to drip, drip. She would love to see him drip, drip. She shoved the noodles into her mouth, tasting the drip, drip, and feeling her desire to taste his drip, drip. She chewed and swallowed hard. Outside the rolling thunder gathered momentum, and she felt her body respond to that thunder, the pressure increasing with each flash of lightning. She pushed her plate away and leaned back, allowing that pressure to build in increments. Slowly. As slowly as she could. His arms around her, his breath on her body, his touch.

‘Not my sidearm, I swear.’

She smiled as she let her hands roam across her body, like he’d done earlier in the shower, earlier in her bed. She waited. No one was here, not her father nor Grace, and she smiled as she dipped her hands a little lower. Drip, drip. For a moment she saw his golden-flecked eyes, smiling, smiling cheekily, smiling with desire. Drip, drip. He was here. She felt a hand underneath her t-shirt, feeling a hand on her breast, feeling his breath across her stomach, feeling her nipples harden. She felt a tug on her panties, a tug on her shirt. Her breath became ragged as she dipped into her panties and touched herself a little, just a moment, feeling her heat.

‘No.’

It was almost an order. She let her hands move slowly up across her breasts. She squeezed them gently, waiting for her next order.

‘Again.’

She squeezed her breasts again and in a flash she saw them together. A sunny day. Walking, pine trees, smiling, nudging, talking, having breakfast, flowers on the table, saw his smile, saw their life, smelled sandalwood, smelled bluebells, a flash. Thunder rolled through the livingroom, a bright flash illuminated her eyes, and her whole body was immediately set alight.

‘Take your shirt off.’

As slowly as she could, she moved her hands to the hem of her shirt.

‘Faster.’

She smiled at the softly growled order, gasped as she felt a tug on her shirt and moaned quietly as she felt a hand on her breast. Her nipples became painful peaks. She felt fingers squeeze them and a groan escaped her lips as somewhere a phone rang. She took a deep breath and gazed over, pulling off her top, seeing red flash in the gloomy evening. But she didn’t feel gloomy anymore, she felt like the flashing lightning, like the rolling thunder, she felt alive. She felt hands on her waist, a breath across her breasts, a moan in her ear.

‘Turn around.’

She got up and felt her panties sliding down. She smiled as she crawled atop the couch on her knees. She leaned across the back, backside in the air, and felt his breath across her cheeks. She saw their hands together, a wedding band, fingers entwined, a sunny day. She felt a kiss in her neck, an arm around her shoulders pulling her back a little, a kiss on her cheek, hands on her hips. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch, his breath, him. She felt a hand in between her cheeks and a blush crept on her face as he stroked her towards her cherry. She felt a gentle, yet urgent massage, felt her whole body respond and moved her backside a little higher to give him room.

“Jack.”

‘Stay like this.’

“Please.”

‘Let me look at you.’

His breath drifted across her back, it gave her goosebumps and set her even further alight. She felt his hands trail after his breath, across her back, her waist, her stomach, her cheeks. She felt the blush deepen when she realized he was looking at her, backside in the air, holding onto the couch.

“Yes.”

‘Divine.’

Ere long he was inside of her. The push demanding, yet gentle, the need sheer, yet controlled, the desire hot, meeting her own heat. She felt him draw back before pushing in with barely controlled force. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt him grab her hips. He pulled out again before pushing in deeply, almost to the hilt. His body against her backside, pulling out again, fully, and she groaned at the loss of his touch. She wanted more, she wanted him inside of her and she craned her neck, pushing her backside back towards him. She felt him slide in again, fully, slowly, agonizingly slow.

“More,” she breathed into the cushions. “I need you.”

‘How much more?’

“Hard. Please, Jack, make me come undone.”

He thrust inside with such force she almost screamed in delight. She felt him adopt a rocking motion that was neigh impossible to follow, but try she did. She felt all the feelings from the past days wash over her, the loss, the need, the want. She pushed back, meeting his thrusts with an absolute desperate need and somehow, with her need, his need, they adopted a perfect rhythm, fast and demanding. Like one they rode together as if it was the last they would do on this earth, in this life. She practically screamed as the came undone, feeling his ragged breath across her back as he came undone.

“I love you.”

‘Same.’

“Stay.”

‘Always.’

She let her shirt and panties lay where they were and curled up on the couch, wanting to pull him in, the invisible but very present him. She pulled the throw across her bare backside and snuggled in. Feeling all she ever needed to feel, feeling him scooting in behind her, and even though that was practically impossible, she decided that it was possible. Always possible. She closed her eyes, only feeling him. And he stayed. She took a deep breath, sandalwood and pine, and shoved her backside a little farther, feeling his hands, feeling a soft kiss in her neck, feeling his arms around her.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last long. Sam bolted upright when the front door opened, and wrapped the throw tightly around her. Jack wasn’t gone, she could feel that, and she rushed as fast as she could to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Jack was still here. He’d stayed. She’d asked him to stay and he’d stayed, with her.

“Sam?”

Shit. It was Pete! Sam tossed the throw on her bed and sat down. She could still smell Jack all around her and she felt a longing to be in his arms, a longing she’d never felt before for no one else but Jack. She rubbed her face as a gentle knock came on the door.

“Sam? You okay?”

“Yeah, just a wild headache,” she lied.

‘Wild? I can do wild.’

Facing Pete would mean she had to shower. If she could smell Jack on her, so could he, if she could smell their sex on her, so could he. She mussed her hair and curled into the duvet, laying back and putting an arm across her eyes. She smiled at his off-beat comment. Wild. Yeah, she’d like a little wild now and again. She knew she’d cheated on Pete with the invisible version of him, but she didn’t feel guilty nor did she feel remorse.

“Can I get you anything? Aspirin?”

“No, am fine,” she muttered as she took a deep breath. “Am just going to sleep.”

‘Before or after a little wild?’

Another knock came just as she pulled the duvet all around her, protecting Jack’s scent on her and hiding her fierce blush and broad grin. She could still feel him inside of her, his hands on her hips, her breasts, pinching her nipples, pinching her cherry, kisses on her back, her backside, cheeks, arms around her.

“Can I come in?” Pete asked concerned.

‘No.’

“It’s dark. Just let me sleep, Pete.”

“Sam?”

‘Leave her.’

Sam turned as she heard the door open. She curled in as deeply as she could, pulling the throw with her. The throw too, smelled like him, pine and sandalwood, and she pushed her nose into it as she felt the bed move.

“Sam? What can I do?” Pete asked as he put his hand on her bare shoulder.

“I just want to sleep.”

“Alright, I’ll go have a shower, get you some more aspirin …”

‘No. Let her go. She’s mine.’

“No. Just go,” she muttered. She pushed her nose deeper into her throw, taking deep breaths of sandalwood and smiled at his possessiveness. “I just want to be alone, sleep alone, please.”

“Alright,” Pete said, confused. “You got me worried, Sam.”

“Just go.”

‘Yeah, just go, go away and never come back.’

Pete got up and looked down at his fiancée. She’d never acted like this before, it almost seemed as if she was distraught about something. Was she was doing however, was pushing him away and he didn’t like that. He took a deep breath, smelling something not unlike sandalwood and frowned.

“You sure? I mean, Sam, if there is anything I can do …”

‘You can walk out the front door.’

“I told you,” she muttered. “Just go, let me sleep, we’ll talk next week.”

“Is that a new scent?” he asked as he frowned again.

“Yeah,” she lied again. She closed her eyes, conversation done. She snuggled in a little more and sighed deeply. “Night.”

“It’s nice,” he commented, walking to the door. “Bit male, but nice. Night Sam, I’ll call you tomorrow. Get well, eh?”

And with that he left. Sam gazed round and slowly sat up. She took a deep breath, smelling the scent of sandalwood increase slowly, and she smiled before tapping the side of her bed. She felt a slow movement, heard a soft creak, and lay back down as he scooped her into his arms.

‘Bit male?’

Sam giggled and whispered: “Much male.”

‘I do smell nice on you.’

“Hold me.”

‘Always.’

She felt a kiss on her shoulder, a breath near her ear, arms around her. She scooted back, sighing deeply, feeling his body pressed against hers and letting this little perfect moment lull her slowly to sleep. Few more hours and it would be Monday, the day she would take that step and tell him her heart’s truth. The voices had quieted down, the screaming had stopped, Grace was gone and the door was wide open. The rain had stopped, the thunder was gone and a gentle breeze smelling of fresh pine trees drifted across the bedroom. She still felt like lightning as she heard a quiet breathing just behind her.

‘Then do something about it.’

“I will, as soon as I see him, dad, I promise.”

‘Night sweetheart.’

“Night dad.”

‘Night Sam.’

“Night Jack. I love you.”

‘Same. Always.’

Her eyes closed into a gentle sleep, feeling him scoot in a little more. Whether real or in her mind she didn’t care, but he was here, he’d always be here. Life was perfect.

Chapter Text

Sam was sitting in her dimly lit lab, rummaging absentmindedly through her papers, her notes, seeing the dang demure, dratted box, hearing its call, knowing she couldn’t wait any longer with her answer as it’d been two weeks already. But she didn’t want to answer Pete, she wanted to answer someone else. The someone that had left her breathing hard when she woke up alone. His scents still around her, his warmth still in the pillow, his breath across her naked shoulders. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and simply felt him.

Today. Monday. The past weekend had been very hard till that Sunday evening, yesterday evening, the emotions and memories that had crashed down on her were still vivid in her mind. She knew it had to come from her, that she was the one that had to take the next step, the initiative, if she were to have what she wanted to have, what she craved. She got up and pulled the wire from the camera, deciding to do it off as a simple moment of idiocy trying to chase away a mosquito with a broom and clapping out the wire.

“Carter?” Jack asked as he walked into the lab.

“Sir,” Sam said a little too quickly with too much breath, stuffing the wire into the back pocket of her combats.

She gazed up at him, into the liquid pools of spicy chocolate, all words lost, simply feeling what she felt bubbling inside, what she’d felt last night. Desire, need, want, practical adoration, and sheer deep love. Feeling feelings like she’d never felt before. Electric emotions that she knew were swirling in her eyes. Yet, he looked tired, concerned almost, and it worried her.

“Sir? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting down and leaning a little forward as he rubbed his forehead.

“Nah,” he said with a sigh. “Couple odd dreams, I suppose. Not nightmares, but they kept me up.”

(pun intended)

Sam pursed her lips and looked down at her notes, scrambling them together in a useless order just to have something to do other than think about how he’d thrust inside of her with ferocious demand. Odd dreams, she thought. A dreamlike state of being. So he’d been dreaming and had been at her house, making love to her in his dream. It would probably defy all the laws of physics but the past years she’d seen enough to know that it could be a possibility. He had been there, with her, in her bed, in the shower, on the couch, holding her and doing things to her she’d wanted him to do to her for years to come, needed him to do to her, and she needed to do the same thing to him.

‘Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. A lot more than I’m supposed to. I love you. Same. Then don’t lose me. I kissed you. Just go. No! I will never leave you. Then do something about it. Do something. Stars are twinkling, brighter than ever before. Stay.’

She sighed as the voices crashed down and looked up. They were reminding her of the promise she’d made, to do something, and to do it now. She saw him smile and nod his head at nothing, tapping his watch.

“But – I never thought I’d hear myself utter these words: I need that report,” he said with a stifled yawn and another rub across his forehead.

“Right!” Sam said, startled out of her thoughts, thinking how best to approach what she was going to approach. She also knew she had to be completely honest with him if her plan were to work, were her desire to be with him become a reality. Honest on all levels, even about Pete. “Um, I just need to, uh, finish typing up my notes. Uh, yeah, I’ll have it for you first thing tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow. And I’m joking. I don’t need the report.”

Sam frowned, shook her head and asked: “Well, then, why?”

Jack walked forward and frowned. “Because somethings going on with you. You haven’t tried to confuse me with any scientific babble for the last couple of days and that’s a big red flag to me.”

Sam sighed. This was the first part of absolute honesty. She pushed the dratted, demure box forward across her desk. “Pete gave me this.”

Jack picked up the box and opened it. A diamond engagement ring. He felt his heart sink. He was about to lose her forever. He couldn’t lose her, ever. “Normally people wear this on their fingers.”

“I haven’t said yes,” she breathed, seeing his eyes darken. Golden lightning shot through them as he closed the box with a sigh.

“But you haven’t said no either,” he said with pursed lips. He looked into her eyes, but the shimmer was gone, he no longer saw glittering starlight, no sunshine, not even in her smile. Something was definitely wrong, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. She looked downright demure.

“I told him I needed to think about it.”

“And?”

“That was two weeks ago.”

“Right,” Jack said, giving her back the box.

A box he’d wanted to give her. His dreams had been about her, her sadness and her struggles, her pain and tears, but also about touching her, being with her, doing the things to her he so longed to do. Couch, bedroom and bathroom, being inside of her. It had all been so real, so tangible, like the soaked boxers he’d woken up to all weekend. Her feel had been real, her scream had been clear, her need for him had been all around him, like her scents, her body in his arms, her body around him. It was almost as if he’d spent the weekend in a dreamlike state that was more real than the drive into Cheyenne this morning.

“What about you? If things had been different?” Sam asked silently, seeing his expression change.

“I wouldn’t be here.”

She hesitated one moment before asking: “Where would you be?”

Jack simply looked at her. He saw a swift realization in her eyes as she got up. He knew he’d always be there for her, with her, in whatever capacity she needed him, and he saw she knew that as well as the starlight slowly came back to her eyes. He watched her walk up, saw her bottom lip tremble, saw her swallow once as she was struggling with something he didn’t know about. She gazed up at him, and he drowned in those cerulean blue event horizons that were now full of lightning, and he knew he never wanting to surface again.

“With me,” she breathed before she pushed her whole self against him, feeling him push against her. “Always with me.”

He pulled her in as close as was physically possible, wrapping her up in his arms and pushing his nose into her warm neck for one moment. He felt her, her arms roaming across her back, her body against his, and it felt so good. With regret he pushed her back a little and gazed at her with a slight frown at her obvious rule breaking, wanting certainty that this moment was actually real and not just in his mind, as it had been all weekend. Couch, creaky bed and shower.

“Cameras are off,” she whispered.

“Good call,” he muttered before claiming her lips in a searing kiss.

A kiss not unlike he’d given her in the loop-da-loop, a kiss that was much needed, he needed, because he needed her to know how he felt and he felt she needed it too by the way she opened her mouth to him. He grabbed her backside, squeezing gently. A backside he’d inspected up close, had kissed, had felt in his hands. She felt the same as in his dreams, tasted the same as in his dreams, and he knew he wanted to taste every part of her, over and over, for years to come. A little wild, sure, but with a tenderness and force he knew she could take. She’d been right, with her, he’d always be with her, one way or another, and only with her. That’s why he had stayed, to be with her. He savored the taste of her lips, the feel of her in his arms, her fresh cotton and bluebell scents. Her. And only her. It had always been her.

“Always,” he muttered against her gentle smile. “Sam. Don’t marry him.”

“Jack.”

“Marry m–”

“Yes.”

“E,” he finished with a smile.

He realized she didn’t even have to think, not even a second, to answer his call for her. Noticed she didn’t think, but simply felt, as he felt her. He held on, not wanting to let go but as his combats grew uncomfortable tight he knew he had to. He nosed her a little and saw her smile grow from supernova sunny to devilishly wicked.

“That’s not a side-arm, sir,” she giggled as she grabbed her cell, still holding onto him.

She knew giving Pete his answer by phone wasn’t really the thing to do, but she needed to, she needed Jack to hear that answer. Needed to say it right now. She smiled a little at the way he had reacted to her, to their kiss, to her kiss, and she wanted to further it. Today. In an hour, in her house, in her bed or on the couch or in the shower, whatever, but she wanted it badly, more so than her next breath. Maybe one day she’ll tell him about her dreams, but right now, all that mattered was them and being together.

“No, that’s your doing,” Jack said with almost pursed lips.

Sam dialed Pete’s number, deleted it in the process and waited for him to answer. “I’ll best do something about that then, my place in one hour,” she muttered with a lot of breath, putting her hand on his backside and squeezing gently just as Pete answered.

“Hey Sam, you okay?” Pete asked. “Feelin’ better?”

“Yeah, it’s just – my answer is no,” she said, pushing her face against Jack’s shoulder, feeling his arm around her back and feeling it move ever so slightly south to her backside. She took a deep breath, smelling sandalwood and pine trees, and smiled. The real memory she’d wanted was now complete and she could finally let the others go. Together they’d make new memories, for the rest of their lives. Together.

‘Always. Marry me. Always. Yes, always. Yes to you. Same. I will never leave you. Never.’

“What? Can we talk about this?”

“No, Pete, it’s a no,” Sam said firmly. “We’ll talk, but not now.”

She simply hung up and turned her face upward. Her eyes simply asking that one question. He smiled and took her hand in his. Nothing else needed to be said as he pulled her along with him, feeling only feelings. Somewhere from nowhere a soft piano beat started to fill the corridors of Cheyenne Mountain. A gentle song followed with soft violin notes: ‘The one I love, the one I love, sweets. The one I love, the one I love, sweets’.

Yep, he got the girl.

Yeah, she got the boy.

Always.

Chapter Text

Ever since Monday, life had been divine.

Either at his, or at hers, they’d met in the most delicious way, the most encompassing manner, most fully and completely. She pursed her lips as she stuffed his boxers next to her own panties in the dryer. Then she pulled out his t-shirts and her own tops from the washing machine and put them inside with their underwear. Their things together in her dryer. A simple thing but a tell-tale thing. Together. She and Jack were together. She turned on the dryer and went for the fridge, seeing a little note stuck on the front. A recipe with a little heart, and the letters ‘S’ and ‘J’. The milkshake they’d had on Tuesday morning when he’d taken her out for breakfast, and he’d managed to get her the recipe. ‘Sandy’s Banana Bonanza’, and she felt a blush creep up her face. With a smile she grabbed a banana, peeled it, cut it up and put it in the blender, adding a spoon of cinnamon and a little squeeze of honey. She turned on the blender, and grabbed the milk and ice cream from the fridge. She added them next and took a deep breath, mind wandering to the past few days.

Monday night, when he’d come undone with a heavenly cry, deep within her, filling her fully. It had been just as in her waking dreams, deep, sometimes raw, hard, needing with a desire she’d never felt before. Tuesday morning, his off-beat comment about her liking bananas which she’d countered by stating his perchance for peaches, making him almost choke on his pancakes. Tuesday afternoon, when he’d kissed her in her lab, leaving an almost visible hickey. Tuesday evening, lasting for as long as possible, giving and not taking. Wednesday morning, when he’d kissed her awake. When he’d patted her backside before she’d sat down in her lab. Wednesday evening, when he had knelt down in front of her, holding out the most beautiful ring, proposing officially as he’d said. She remembered how she’d teared up, right before kissing him with all she felt, love, admiration, need, desire, want, and more love. The Thursday winks and gazes, the sneaking around at base, the evening of desire until this morning, when he’d woken her a little too early, her beloved Jack.

He’d gotten her a engagement ring with a bright blue diamond. Saying the color reminded him of the starlight in her eyes. She looked at her hand where the diamond shimmered in the late Friday morning sunlight when there was a knock on the front door. She ignored it, not expecting any deliveries, and finished her milkshake according to the recipe her Jack had gotten her. She gazed out the window, waiting for her shake to finish shaking, smelling the soft scents of their washing and noting down the rest of what she’d need at the cabin in Minnesota. He’d said he’d pick her up at half past three, and that they’d have a little stay-over en route. She felt whole. Complete. She let her love for him swirl a little and smiled.

‘Long weekend,’ Jack had said just a few hours ago. ‘Get some things up there. Saves baggage. I’ll clear out the cupboard and the nightstand, and get you some keys.’

“Yeah,” she muttered out loud as she switched off the shaker. “With you. Do the same.”

‘Already did,’ he’d said, putting his duffel on the kitchen island. ‘Packed the essentials this morning, hence why I was up so early.’

She’d turned and wrapped him up in her arms. Simply gazing into his electric chocolate pools. She’d drowned, easily, not wanting to come up ever again. ‘I love you.’

‘Should’ve done it some time ago,’ he’d said as he’d pulled her into a warm hug.

‘Done it now.’

‘Rules schmuels,’ he’d whispered into her neck. She’d held him close, feeling him against her, feeling him all over. ‘Wisdom comes with the ages.’

She remembered laughing, she remembered what had come next. He’d taken her hand and pulled her towards the bedroom.

‘Got a few hours left,’ he’d muttered against her lips.

He’d pushed her down, letting his lips roam across her skin as he’d undressed her, using her little moans to guide him ever downward. His mouth on her had been delicious, his tongue even more so, his tongue inside of her had been heaven, him inside of her had made her complete. He’d come undone with such force she could still feel it inside of her right now. And that was only this morning, just before he’d had to leave to sign off on their joined leave, but she still felt it. She checked the clock quickly, few hours till he’d pick her up, just as the dryer pinged. She opened the door, grabbed the laundry and started to fold his boxers neatly, occasionally sipping from her shake when another knock came. She shook her head with mild irritation as she checked the clock once more. She had packing to do, and no time for whomever was knocking for a third time now. She put Jack’s boxers in a pile, took another sip of her shake, and walked out to the front door when another rap on the door rang out.

“Hold your equines,” she grumbled. She opened the door to an angry looking Pete. “Pete?”

“You said we would talk,” he growled angrily, brushing past her. “But how can we talk if you don’t return my calls? Or even answer them?”

“Pete, now is not a good time,” Sam said as she walked back to where her suitcase lay on the couch. “I’ve got to pack.”

“Pack for what?”

Sam stalked to the kitchen, hearing Pete come after her. “Am going up to Minnesota for a couple days, get away a bit.”

“Minnesota?”

“Yeah?” she asked as she took the pile of Jack’s boxers and walked to the bedroom. She put them in the cupboard and fished out a blue v-neck jumper she wanted to take with. “Look. We’ll talk next week, alright? I have to get going.”

‘Marry me. Always. Marry me. Yes to you, Jack. Yes.’

Sam smiled as she patted the folded boxers before closing the cupboard. She walked back and saw Pete eye her with fear and disdain.

“Sam! At least look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“Pete,” Sam said with a deep sigh. “Just. I have to get going.”

“What’s all this about? I think I have a right to know –” his voice trailed off when he saw the glittering blue stone on her finger. With force he grabbed her arm and held it up. “What the hell is this, Sam? Who is this!”

“Pete, let go of my arm,” Sam growled. “You’re hurting me!”

‘Just go! No! I’d rather have died myself than lose Carter. A lot more than I’m supposed to. I love you. Same. Then don’t lose me. I kissed you. Just go. No! I will never leave you. Then do something about it.’

That entire weekend came crashing down on her. Jack. Her Jack. Her love. Jack who’d secretly kissed her, Jack who’d wanted to be kept, Jack whom she wanted to keep, always. All her fears were contained in that one stanza. Her legs trembled, her heart trembled at hearing those words. With utmost force she willed it away to the only prayer she wanted to hear.

‘Always. Marry me. Always. Yes, always. Yes to you. Same. I will never leave you. Never.’

“Yes to you,” she muttered.

“Tell me!” Pete practically screamed at the most beautiful woman in the world. The ‘no’ had shattered him but he’d held out a little hope. Cold feet, he’d though, it was nothing but cold feet. But now? With that ring on her finger? He knew he wasn’t just losing her, he’d already lost her.

“Let go!” she cried as she felt his nails dig into her skin. “Let go of me!”

Pete did let go and watched her walk towards the kitchen where she rinsed her shaker in the sink. He watched her take a pile of folded underwear, and saw a pair of panties he’d never seen before. White lace that would leave almost nothing to the imagination. He watched her walk back to the living room and dumping the stack into her suitcase before folding a blue v-neck he’d also never seen before. She looked up with a frown and shook her head.

“Look,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I said we’ll talk next week. I’ll call you when am back from Minnesota but I have to get going.”

“Sam –” he stammered, feeling anger rise.

“Bye Pete,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

Pete followed her and heard her start to hum softly as she plucked out a set of black t-shirts from the dryer. She started to fold them carefully, sipping from what looked like a milkshake, and ignoring him completely. He didn’t like to be ignored, especially not now, especially now that he was losing her for good. Forever. He put his hands on the kitchen island, watching her delicate hands fold, and fold. T-shirts that were definitely not hers. A ring on her finger that wasn’t his.

“Whose are those?” he asked as calmly as possible, feeling his heart hammer in despair.

Sam looked up as she put the shirts into a neat pile. “I said bye.”

“Who!” he growled, then calmer: “Whose are those?”

Sam picked up the pile, shook her head and walked to the bedroom. She saw the bed still crumpled and smiled. Jack always pushed down the entire duvet and sheets when they were making love and afterwards they could never get them right so he held her warm with his body. Pressing flush against her, whether a little spoon or a big spoon, whichever they preferred at that moment. She pulled the sheets down and fluffed the pillows before making the bed neatly. Then she put his t-shirts in the cupboard and grabbed two pairs of blue jeans. She walked back to where Pete was still standing in the kitchen. She put the jeans atop the island and folded them so they’d fit snugly into her case without crumpling.

“Sam! Talk to me!” he growled just as she strolled back to the livingroom and put the jeans into the case. He gazed into her blue eyes, feeling lost, feeling hurt and angry.

“I said we’ll talk next week,” she grumbled. “Pete, I really have to get going.”

“Who is it!” he screamed, watching her walk back. He rushed after her and grabbed her arm, shoving her so she’d turn around. “Who!”

“Jack! It’s Jack!” she screamed back just as his fist connected with her face. She reeled round, stumbled forward in agony, feeling her head hit the fridge, and feeling her legs give out. Stars exploded in her vision, and she could smell blood just as everything went dark.

Startled Jack looked round, then up at the clock and back to his front door. He walked up and frowned. It had just gone two, and he’d promised to pick her up at half past but he saw the unmistakable figure of Sam through the glass pane in the door. He opened it and felt the blood drain from his face. Sam, holding a tea towel to her face, trembling. He immediately enveloped her in his arms, drawing her close, ushering her inside. His hand trembled when he wanted to take the towel from her but seeing her shake before a sob escaped her lips was just too much. He simply drew her in, guiding her to the couch and sitting her down. His heart broke as she finally removed the towel. The welts on the left side of her face were blue, red and dangerously purple. A soft trickle of blood dripped down from her eyebrow as she looked up at him. In that moment, the world stopped turning and all he could do was stare at her, anguish in her cerulean eyes.

“Who did this?” he asked quietly, taking her trembling hand in his and feeling his anger rise.

Sam swallowed, knowing him well enough that if she said his name, he’d go after him. She pushed her fingers to her nose as the tears came in earnest. She saw him reach out and pull her towards him and she sidled against his chest, hearing the angry beat of his heart pound against her forehead, knowing her blood was dripping on his shirt.

“It’s okay, Sam,” he whispered, holding her close to him. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“Jack – I’m bleeding.”

The gentle squeak of her voice rattled him beyond belief and even though he felt angrier than ever before, sadness overtook him as he buried his face in her golden hair, feeling her tremble in his arms, smelling blood and bluebells. He swallowed, hard, running his hand across her back.

“I don’t care. We have to see a doctor, Sam,” he muttered, holding her close.

“No.”

“Who did this?”

“Please, just hold me,” she muttered, hearing the thoughts from the weekend crash and wash over her like an angry tidal wave.

‘Just go! No! I kissed you. Feeling feelings. As close as I could get to you. You. Just go. No! I will never leave you. Am there. Always.’

“Always,” he said, drawing her in further, cuddling her, nosing her hair, letting his hand trail across her back, up and down. “Am here, always. Want me to call Fraiser?”

“No.”

“Sam, you need to get that looked at,” Jack urged, pushing her upwards a little. The face looking back at him almost broke his heart. He placed one hand on the right side of her face, letting his thumb graze across the tears that were slowly falling down. “Am gonna call Fraiser.”

“No, Jack, please,” Sam said as she leaned into his comforting, warm hand as the rolling thunder came crashing down. She could almost see the lightning, taste her fears.

‘No! Just go! No! No! No! I’m not leaving you, Jack!’

“No arguments,” Jack said, reaching back and grabbing his mobile. “Fraiser or A&E. Up to you but ye’re gonna have it checked, Sam.”

Sam sighed and sat up a little more. She pressed the towel against her eyebrow and nodded. “Janet. No A&E. I just – I’m so out of sorts right now.”

“It’s okay,” Jack said as he punched in Fraiser’s cell. He waited till he heard her chirpy voice but cut her short. “Sam’s hurt.”

‘What? How?’

“She won’t say but it needs to be looked at.”

‘How bad?’

“Punch to the face,” Jack said, seeing Sam close her eyes. Sure, he’d seen his fair share of fist fights and this was definitely the result of one of them.

‘What!?’

“Yeah, she’s at mine.”

‘I’ll be right there.’

Jack simply hung up and turned to Sam, who smiled wanly. “Ye thought I didn’t see it?”

“Was hoping.”

“Who did this, Sam?”

“I should have been more alert,” Sam said, deflecting the question. “But yanno, milkshake, laundry, packing, messy bed. I was in a happy place.”

“Sam,” Jack said, sitting forward. “Look, I get that, I was in the same place till you showed up all battered and bruised. I could order you –”

“Please don’t,” Sam pleaded as she took his hand in hers. “Just leave it. It’s no longer important, am safe, am okay.”

“You stay here for now,” Jack said as a knock on the door came. He got up and looked down at Sam, who laid back on the couch. “Safer. Okay? Stay with me.”

“Always,” Sam said. “Case –”

‘As close as I could get to you. Stay with me. Always.’

“I’ll go get it,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her gently on the lips. Only when he saw her gentle smile did he turn to open the door.

Fraiser wasn’t happy with what she saw. Far from it. Sam’s eye-socket was swollen, a nasty gash had split her eyebrow and the woman was completely out of sorts.

“This will need stitching,” Janet told Sam before gazing round at Jack. “Who did this?”

“She won’t say,” Jack growled. “Am heading over to her place to check it out. Grab some things. She’s staying here for now.”

“Sam, honey, who did this?” Janet persisted. “Can you tell me?”

“No,” Sam said with too much breath.

Janet grabbed her penlight and shone into the mass of black and blue. “I can’t see any evidence of a concussion, so that’s good. Jack, hand me my bag please.”

Jack grabbed the doctor’s bag and put it on the coffee table. Then it hit him. “It was Pete.”

Fear flashed across Sam’s face as Janet applied a drew drops of surgical glue to Sam’s eyebrow and with gentle care pushed the skin back. “May leave a tiny scar, sweetheart.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Jack said with an audible growl, watching the care with which Janet patched up Sam’s eyebrow. “Sam? Where is he?”

“Jack, please don’t,” Sam pleaded. “Let’s just go.”

‘Just go! No! I kissed you. Stay with me. I will never leave you.’

“Go where?” Janet asked. “I don’t think you should be going anywhere but bed. Infirmary isn’t needed as long as you do what I’m telling you. You’re taking a week off, at least, I’ll inform general Hammond. Plenty of rest, only take paracetamol when the pain is bad. Alright?”

“Stay with Sam, doc,” Jack said, grabbing his coat. “Am gonna get some answers.”

“Sure,” Janet said. “Can she sleep –”

“She knows the way,” Jack said as he grabbed his P365, ignoring Janet’s surprised face, seeing only the pain on the face of the love of his life. He took her face in his hands and kissed with all the love he felt. “I love you. I’ll be right back.”

“Jack, please,” Sam muttered against his lips. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

“Can you help her to bed?” Jack asked as he zipped up his coat. “She knows where everything is. And – just don’t say anything until I’ve spoken to Hammond. That’s an order.”

“Sir,” Janet said with a frown. “Yeah, of course. Come on Sam, let’s get you to bed.”

Janet watched Sam get up. Her hands trembled as she looked straight at Jack, a plea on her face as she held out her hand and shook her head. She saw Jack take the hand, rubbing his thumb across her fingers before letting go and going for the door. Then she heard a sob and looked up at Sam, who was crying quietly.

“Hey, come on Sam,” Janet said as she took her friend’s hand. “Let’s get you settled.”

“This – this isn’t right Janet,” Sam sobbed. “He can’t.”

“Colonel O’Neill knows what he’s doing.”

“You didn’t see his face when I got here.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“A bit,” Sam muttered, turning, and walking to the bedroom feeling absolutely deflated. She heard Janet follow and turned on the lights before sitting down. “We knew, since – but we didn’t – not until the weekend.”

“Last weekend?” Janet said, throwing back the duvet and mussing the pillows. “What happened? I thought you and Pete –”

“Pete had proposed,” Sam said, crawling into Jack’s side of the bed. “Two weeks ago. I couldn’t say anything. Last weekend I was – it was almost tormenting. Choices, path’s, decisions.” She left out all the other imaginary things that had happened, the lovemaking, the realizations, the memories, the shouting in her mind, his proposal and her immediate acceptance. “Monday. I said no. But I’ve always known.”

Janet sat down and grabbed her penlight once more. Sam was drowsy but that could be from the pain she was feeling. It was clearly visible on her face but she also knew it was in her in her heart for the fact that Jack had gone after Pete, and that Pete had hit her. “Always?”

“Mm,” she muttered as Janet checked her eyes. “Always.”

‘Always. Marry me. Always. Yes, always. Yes to you. Same. I will never leave you. Never.’

“Your eyes are fine, but your drowsiness worries me a little. How is the head?”

“Headache,” Sam muttered as she closed her eyes and snuggled into his scents. “Am okay, Janet, I just need to rest a little.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the livingroom. You holler if there’s anything, okay?”

“Yeah. Wake me when Jack gets back?”

“Sure, go sleep,” Janet sighed as she got up and walked out. She heard a faint mutter and smiled as she walked out.

“Please, Jack, come home.”

Janet left the door open so she could hear whatever changes occurred whilst Sam was asleep, and sat down on the couch, looking at the front door. She should go after him, but she also promised to stay with Sam. This had all the makings of a very long and agonizing wait.

Jack parked his truck a little down the road from where Pete lived. He checked his watch, it had just passed four, too late to leave for Minnesota so he’d ask Hammond for additional days. Take care of Sam. The porch light was on, so the man was home. He drummed on the steering wheel a moment and saw Sam’s battered face flash through his mind. His gorgeous Sam with the sunny smile and starlight eyes, all battered and bruised. It fueled his anger even more. He dumped his gun into the glove-box, locked it, and he got out. Fists, pure revenge. He closed the door quietly and stared up at the house. With a sigh he pushed off and crossed the road before walking up the path. He balled his fist and pounded the door three times, as loudly as he could. Ere long a figure appeared behind the glass pane and the door was opened, revealing a stunned Pete. Stunned and then livid.

“What the hell do you want!” Pete shouted, seeing blood on the man’s shirt.

Jack shoved the man back with as much force as he could. He saw Pete fall back and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Pete scrambled back, looking up at the man’s hatred-filled eyes. “Look! It was an accident!”

“Then you should have reported it!” Jack bellowed.

“She said no! Then she said your name! I lost it!” Pete yelled as he got up and rubbed his painful shoulder. “She said your name.”

“Or take her to see a doctor!”

“Look, I’m sorry!”

“Not as sorry as you’ll be in five!” Jack said, hooking the man with his right fist. He felt the bones in the man’s nose give way. “No one! No one touches my Sam! Have you seen her damn face, for cryin’ out loud? See this! This is her blood!”

Pete grabbed his nose and stalked back. He felt the blood run down his face and when he moved his hand, saw it was dripping down his fingers. He held up his hands and said: “I said I was sorry!” he shouted. He opened the drawer of a side table and pulled out his service gun. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, I swear.”

To Jack, whatever this a-hole was bleating about didn’t matter. He saw the gun, and then he saw red. He swung his right again, hitting Pete hard to the side of his face, sending the gun flying. Again, to his chest. Again, on his ear. Again, to the other side of his face. Again, and Pete went down, arms raised. Jack saw his knuckles bleed, but that too didn’t matter. He grabbed Pete by the collar and pulled him close to his face.

“Got that! You good-for-nothing meat-sack?” Jack growled. “If I ever see you anywhere near Sam again, I’ll remodel not only your face, but also make sure all your next meals come with a straw. Understood?”

“Y – yeah.”

Jack dropped the man’s head hard to the floor. He heard a thud, and saw Pete pass out. His hands hurt, his heart hurt and again he saw Sam’s battered face flash through his mind. He sighed, grabbed his cell and dialed 9-1-1, simply stating that a brawl got out of hand and he was calling it in. Then he turned, left the door open and stalked to the car. He got in and slammed the door shut just as a police car rounded the corner. He couldn’t help a wry smile.

He quickly drove to Sam’s house. Her keys in his pocket, key’s she’d given him this morning but slowly another thought crept into his mind. A place together. It made him smile again, this time with a severe longing. He parked and saw a light was still on. He got out, grabbed her keys and opened the door. Scents of fresh laundry came towards him, but the quietness that usually bore a song, hum or a giggle was overwhelming. He walked to the couch and grabbed her case before turning towards the kitchen. He set the case down. He saw a tall glass with the remnants of her milkshake, some fresh socks of his neatly folded atop the island, and then he froze as he saw blood on the side of the fridge. Sam’s blood. He realized Pete could press charges, thought for a moment to take some pictures, get forensics down here to prove he’d hit her and that he’d retaliated. He grabbed his cell and called Fraiser, and she answered almost immediately.

‘Fraiser.’

“Doc, got your forensic kit on ye?” he asked, staring at the flecks of blood.

‘I can get one,’ he heard her say with bated breath.

“How soon?”

‘Half hour tops. Why?’

Jack swallowed, hard. He had a mental image he didn’t like. Pete hitting Sam in the face, her head slamming into the fridge, Sam going down. An unexpected strike at a woman who was probably humming when packing her case. Sam folding his clothes, knotting his socks together, sipping a milkshake. He walked forward and saw the recipe he’d managed to get for her. ‘Sandy’s Banana Bonanza’, the shake she’d gotten Tuesday morning when he surprised her with breakfast, the little drops on her lips, wrapping her lips around the straw and sucking with delight. He sighed and grabbed the glass. He smelled banana and closed his eyes as he saw her go down once more.

‘Jack?’ he heard Fraiser say with urgency. ‘What happened?’

‘I was in a happy place.’

“There’s blood on the fridge.”

‘What!?’

“I think it’s Sam’s.”

‘Crap, yeah okay. Get over here, I don’t want Sam to be alone tonight.’

“Be right there,” he said before hanging up.

He left everything the way it was, including his socks. Folding socks a happy place. Sam could have his entire stack of laundry, a thousand milkshakes and pack a hundred suitcases whilst humming a million songs. He’d watch her from his own place of happiness. She was his happy place. He grabbed the suitcase, turned off the light and walked out. He had to get home, he had to get back to Sam as quickly as possible.

Janet startled when the front door opened and looked round to see an angry Jack walk in. He set a suitcase down, took off his jacket with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. She saw how distraught the man was before she noticed his knuckles were bleeding. She grabbed her bag to find disinfectant and bandages when she felt him plonk next to her on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“Sam’s asleep,” she said, taking one of his hands. “What did you do?”

“Knocked some sense into him. Called it in. Anonymously,” Jack muttered, then winced as Janet dabbed his knuckles. “Go easy, doc!”

“Hush, as I said, Sam’s asleep. What else?”

“How’s she doin’?”

“Alright,” Janet said as she wrapped his knuckles. “What else?”

“Am not sorry.”

“Jack?”

“You got the kit?”

“It’s en route,” she said, gazing into angry brown eyes. “Go on, tell me. Then it’s official.”

Jack rubbed his face, still seeing the milkshake, his socks neatly knotted, the red blood on the fridge. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes. “I parked. Left the gun in the glove compartment. Men sort this crap out with fists and – no man hits a woman. He hit her, doc.”

“Go on,” Janet said just as Sam appeared in the doorway. She saw Sam hold back, listening intently to what Jack was saying. “What happened next?”

“All I saw was Sam’s face. I – hit him. Told him to stay away. Broke his nose I guess. I called 9-1-1, called it in. Scuffle. He went for his gun.”

Sam took a deep breath and saw Jack look up. “Jack.”

“All I saw was your face,” he said. “Hurt, bruised, bloody. He went for his gun so I introduced him to my right hook, couple times, told him to stay away. He kept throwing excuses. Told him what he should have done. Told him to stay away. Warned him to stay away. Knocked him out.”

“What else?” Janet asked, seeing Sam walk up and sitting next to Jack. Seeing Sam take his battered hand in hers, seeing her stroke the back of it.

“I went to get Sam’s case, saw the fridge,” he muttered. He didn’t want to tell Fraiser how he’d felt when he’d seen that blood, his mental image, his feelings. “There’s blood on the fridge.”

“I sent forensics up ahead,” Janet said, closing her bag. “He’s alive?”

“Why do you even ask?” Jack said indignantly. “He’ll look like a tomato with too tight suspenders for a while. Red, blue, black. Make a new flag somewhere.”

Janet pressed her lips together as she nodded at Sam. “Drink plenty fluids, am off now to your place. Got keys?”

“On the table, by the door,” she muttered as she motioned to the side table Jack had put there a few days ago. She smiled at the thought. He’d quickly caught onto her tossing things, like keys, mail, scarf, bag, to the side of the door. He’d kept picking them up, kept putting them on the coffee table. Always shaking his head a little at nothing in particular when she’d sat down.

‘Throwing things on the floor a regular thing?’

‘Habit. I have a little table to catch things,’ she’d said with a giggle.

‘Basket hoop okay?’

She’d laughed and he’d grabbed her, tickling her sides which had made her laugh even more. She’d pulled him atop of her, kissing him, wrapping him up in her legs. ‘Prefer ice-hockey.’

She’d coined on to one of his favorite sport quickly. Gotten him tickets to go to a game when they were in Minnesota on their little escape. An escape she would go on, despite her eye. He’d kissed her with a secretive smile and got up. He’d put the little side-table next to the door with a satisfied grin before walking back and assuming his previous position, kissing her again.

‘Throw all you like.’

‘Jack.’

‘You organize my books and I’ll let you throw whatever you want,’ he’d said, kissing the giggles, feeling her give him more giggles, which he drank in greedily.

‘Got tickets,’ she’d muttered against his lips.

‘To?’

‘A game,’ she’d said, running her hands across his back. ‘Involves corn-dogs.’

‘I love you.’

“I love you,” she muttered as she enveloped him in her arms. “Let Janet do what she needs to do. Let’s curl up, okay?”

‘Always. Marry me. Always. Yes, always. Yes to you. Same. I will never leave you. Never.’

He pulled her towards him and nuzzled her neck. “Yeah. I love you Sam. Seeing you hurt. I mean. It’s just – I had to.”

“I know,” she muttered as she felt him pull her up gently. He guided her to the bedroom, switching off the lights as they went along. “I know you better than you think.”

“Good,” he said as he coached her into bed, watching her snuggle in on his side. He smiled as he took off this pants and shirt, tossing them on the floor. “Makes one of us.”

“Come here,” she said with a yawn. “Snuggle in.”

“Big or little?”

“Big, with arms and a leg,” she said, feeling him scoot behind her, enveloping her in his arms and pushing a leg between hers. She pulled his battered hand to her lips and kissed them gently. “Wear gloves next time.”

“Next time?”

“When you go mano a mano, yes,” she muttered with a yawn before scooting in further, feeling him pull her flush against his body.

“Won’t be a next time,” Jack said as he kissed her behind her ear and then her shoulder. He’d set the alarm for six, decided he’d get Luigi’s for dinner, her favorite, and decided to spoil her for the rest of his life.

They drifted off to sleep together, embraced and spooned, leaving the world for what it was.

Chapter Text

Hammond was reading the report doctor Fraiser had given him for the third time. Her initial analysis of the blood on the fridge matching that of major Carter disturbed him, but what disturbed him even more was the fact that colonel O’Neill had gone after the man. He closed the report and sighed deeply. He knew there were still tests being run, like the one on Jack’s shirt, blood splatter patterns, the dent on the fridge, angle of impact, and DNA comparisons, and it knotted in his stomach. He didn’t know what, but something had happened the past week and he didn’t like it one bit. He looked up at where Fraiser was sitting, looking demurely, hands folded, sighing deeply.

“Is this all of it?” Hammond asked sternly. “Why didn’t you report it last Friday? It’s Monday now and this is a serious offense.”

“Yes, sir,” Janet said, feeling uncomfortable. It wasn’t her place to tell what she’d witnessed. The gentleness, the love Jack had for Sam and vice versa plus the fact that it had been going on for a bit. Plus the fact that they’d made it unofficially official last Monday. She remembered the Zat’arc testing, what they’d eventually admitted to, and knew they’d cherished those feelings ever since. But it was not her place. “It’s all there but I wanted to get all the facts straight and wait for the results of the blood on the fridge. Detective Shenanigans hit major Carter, she passed out after hitting the fridge. Then she went to colonel O’Neill’s, who then called me. Colonel O’Neill went to get some answers, get some things for major Carter from her place and found the blood –”

“Yes, doctor, I can read all that in your report,” Hammond said, getting up and turning to Fraiser. “Why did major Carter go to colonel O’Neill’s place and not the A&E or the infirmary?”

“I don’t know sir, I guess she needed a friend?” Janet surmised, seeing the deep frown on general Hammond’s face.

“A friend?”

“They’ve been friends for a long time, sir, and to be honest, I think I would have done the same.”

“And you don’t know more about what happened between detective Shenanigans and colonel O’Neill?”

“Just what colonel O’Neill told me,” Janet said, getting up too. “It’s all there, in my report.”

“Where’s colonel O’Neill now?”

“At home, with major Carter, he’s looking after her. She needs to take it easy, at least for another week, am staying close by as well so I can check up on her.”

“You do know there will be a formal investigation?”

“Yes, sir,” Janet said, watching him grab the phone and dialing. “With all due respect, sir, if you’re calling colonel O’Neill in I should go and sit with Sam. She was very drowsy and shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Hammond nodded, but motioned for her to sit back down. Ere long the phone was answered by a tired O’Neill. He could even hear the man yawn.

“Colonel? It’s general Hammond. How’s major Carter?”

‘Asleep. She had a couple of rough nights. Nightmares.’

“She up for a talk? Informal of course but we do need some answers.”

‘She gets up at around three. I’m just waiting for doc Fraiser. Was going to come in see you in person and give those answers.’

“Right, she’s on her way now,” Hammond said, motioning to Fraiser to get going. He watched the woman leave before asking: “In short, Jack, what happened?”

‘He hit her, sir, badly. Her face is black, purple and blue, her eyebrow’s split and she lost consciousness when she hit the fridge. I went to get some answers.’

“That’s in Fraiser’s report –”

‘Then why do you ask?’

The puzzlement and confusion in the man’s voice had Hammond frown. So there was something else going on, as he had suspected, but right now he had more questions than answers and he didn’t like to be in that position.

“Come see me when Fraiser gets to yours, that’s an order.”

‘Yes, sir.’

Hammond hung up and sank back down in his chair. He grabbed the report for the forth time and flipped it open. He knew he had to get to the bottom of this, but wasn’t sure he liked that bottom one bit.

Jack opened the door to an anxious Fraiser and let her in. Fraiser took off her coat and sighed deeply, turning to Jack with a wan smile.

“I’ll stay till you get back,” she said as she hung up her coat.

Jack grabbed his coat and keys, and turned with a sigh. He knew he was in for one, even though in his opinion he’d not really done anything seriously wrong, it was simply an air force thing. Hammond would lay into him, but he was tired, worried, and still angry so he didn’t really care what was to come next. He had a plan, a plan made after he’d proposed last week Monday.

“Sam’s asleep,” Jack said with a motion to the couch for Janet to sit down. “She had a couple rough nights, nightmares, kept waking up. She had a decent breakfast, showered and went back to sleep. Set the alarm for three, for tea, sandwich, whatever she fancies. Stocked the fridge, pantry’s full and made Luigi’s deliver. Call me if there’s anything.”

“Sure.”

“What was Hammond like?”

“Confused more than anything. Disbelieving, you know? Worried.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, looking in the direction of his bedroom where Sam was sleeping. “Gimme a sec, okay?”

“Sure.”

Jack walked back towards the bedroom and looked in. Sam had snuggled up on his side of the bed and it made him smile, albeit tiredly. He walked towards her as quietly as he could, gazing down at her sleeping form, hair mussed, tiny beads of sweat on her forehead and squeezing the pillow for dear life. He bent down and gently kissed her bare shoulder, seeing her eyes flutter a little as he pulled the duvet up before she stretched and turned onto her back, almost baring her breasts to him. It made him fluster a little and he kissed her on her collarbone before sitting down.

“Got to go in,” he said softly as she placed a hand on the side of his face. He laid his hand across hers and pulled the palm to his lips, kissing it gently. “Best get it over with.”

“Jack,” she muttered, smiling tiredly. “What time is it?”

“Half past 2, so you can doze for another half hour. Fraiser is in the living room.”

“What time you back?”

“As soon as I can. Do as doc Fraiser says, alright?”

Sam nodded and stretched again, letting her gaze wander across Jack’s face. Feeling the memories wash over her like an angry tidal wave. The same crashing tidal wave she’d felt that entire dratted weekend before last, before she’d told Jack her truth. That dratted weekend full of anger and mystery, owning up to her mistakes, admitting to how she’d truly felt. His weekend of bad dreams that hadn’t been bad just mysterious and about her. Last weekend being one of nightmares, of Pete hitting her, the white flash, the black that had followed. Her anguish when Jack had gone after him, her silent prayers for her Jack. She wanted that one silent prayer back, not laced with everything they’d been through. Just that one prayer when everything had finally made sense, had become whole and complete.

‘Who is it? Jack. Who is it! Who is it! It’s Jack! Always. It’s Jack! Marry me. Always. Yes, always. Yes to you. It’s Jack! Same. Just go! No! I will never leave you. Never. Then do something about it. Stars are twinkling, brighter than ever before. I kissed you, a lot more than I’m supposed to. I love you.’

She saw the love in his eyes and smiled just a little. She felt him lacing their fingers together, squeezing gently. He gazed at her battered face and saw a little starlight shimmer through the pain she was feeling. He smiled, feeling the love he had for her wash over him. He let all the anger he’d felt the past days drift away, drowning in her cerulean blues.

“Love you,” he muttered as he saw her eyes droop again.

“Me too,” she whispered as he pulled the duvet a little higher, kissing her once more on her lips. She smiled and into his kiss and nosed him a little. The complete absolute prayer coming back to her in full force. “Curl in with me when ye get back.”

‘Always. Marry me. Always. Yes, always. Yes to you. Same. I will never leave you. Never.’

“I will,” he said as he took a deep breath of her scents, strengthening him. “Always.”

He saw her smile a little, curl up even more. He heard a deep sigh, like something was alright, something completed. He felt her squeeze his hand, her fingers seeking his fingers, and he held on. He knew what was coming wasn’t going to be good, but what he had here was more than good, it was his little piece of heaven and one he would hold on to, brig, court-martial or whatever would be thrown his way. He waited till he heard a little snore and smiled before getting up. He loved that little snore, especially if she was breathing it across his chest. It was a source of comfort to him, like her scents, like her whole being. He gazed at her one last time, turned, and walked back to where Janet was sitting on the couch.

“She alright?” Janet asked.

“Mm, she will be,” Jack said. “Look, eh, sorry for draggin’ –”

“Jack, you and Sam are my friends,” Janet set, getting up. “To be fair, am glad this happened.”

“You – you are?” he asked with a shake of his head at nothing.

“Bout time too,” she said with a shooing motion. “Go on, I’ll go make some tea, you get going, be back before you know it.”

Jack smiled, albeit ruefully and stalked to the door. Yeah, now or never.

Hammond watched a tired colonel O’Neill sit down at the opposite end of his desk. He got up, poured the man a large mug of coffee and set it in front of him before sitting down, tapping on Fraiser’s report. He let the man take a few sips before he saw him lean forward.

“And?” Hammond asked.

Jack took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Major Carter and I were going up to Minnesota last Friday, for some fishing. She wanted to write some chapters of her book, I suggested the cabin would give her that quiet space to work. Fresh air, yanno. Was going to pick her up at half past three when there was a knock on the door.”

“Go on,” Hammond said, as all this now made a little more sense.

“Her face,” Jack said, hearing his voice falter a little, but composing himself quickly lest the man have an inkling to what the real deal was. “It was all battered, the left side, great big welts, her eyebrow split and bleeding like a pig. I called Fraiser. I coined it would have had to be Pete as she broke off the engagement last Monday, and I was right so I went up to his house. I did take my weapon, but left it in the glove compartment of my truck. Still there. Things like this you sort out like a man. I rang the doorbell and was greeted by an angry Pete. I didn’t know why the hell he would be angry, so I shoved him back. He stumbled and I walked in. I was angry. He started to throw around all manner of excuses, and I warned him to stay away. Told him never to go near Sam again and punched his nose. It would have stayed with that one punch, but he grabbed his gun. I saw red, sir, punched him a few times and left it. Called it in, left.”

Hammond frowned at the use of major Carter’s first name but left it for now.

“I went to Sam’s place, to get some things. Fraiser said she shouldn’t be left alone. There I saw blood on the fridge. I called Fraiser, asked for forensics. Then I went home. I told all of this to Fraiser when I got back. Then I just took care of Sam.”

“Why did you leave the scene, Jack?” Hammond asked. “Questions will be asked about that, you know, so why did you?”

“All I saw was Sam’s face, heard her sobs, felt her tremble. I called it in anonymously.”

“Whereas you thwacked the man.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, sir. I wanted to get the hell out, get Sam’s things and take care of her, that was all I could think about. He was of no importance anymore. I said what I had to say, warned him and left. He was out cold, alive. So.”

“And how’s major Carter now?” Hammond asked, using her proper rank to see where it would lead him.

“Drowsy, sleepy, could be from the painkillers. Past weekend, sleep, eat, shower, sleep, eat shower, nightmares in between.”

“Then why haven’t I heard anything from Pete Shenanigans?”

“How the hell should I know?” Jack growled, running his hand across his forehead, feeling the fatigue and worry crash down. “Perhaps he’s scared we’ll file something? For hitting Sam?”

“And you’re not?”

“I did what I did because I don’t hit women! That’s cowardice. Scum hits a woman, and he was lower than scum, nothing more than the dragged end of a clogged toilet wire! And if it comes to that, sure I’ll take the stand and say the exact same thing. He shouldn’t have gone for the gun!”

“At ease, colonel,” Hammond said. “We know you were unarmed. And I do agree that that may be his concern but this isn’t going to just fly away either. Let’s wait and see what the rest of the test results say about the blood on the fridge and your shirt, and the rest of the forensic evidence, take it from there. It’s Fraiser’s top priority right now. Gun still in the glove box?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you touch Pete’s gun? Anything else in that house?”

“No. Kicked the door shut.”

“Fridge? Anything else in major Carter’s house?”

“No, just went in to get Sam’s suitcase. Used my cell to call it in, used my cell to call Fraiser. Switched off the lights,” he said with a sigh, as his prints and DNA would be all over Sam’s place. Trashcan, bin in the bathroom, shower, bed, couch, kitchen and god knows where else they’d indulged themselves together. “Yes,” he then whispered.

“What is it colonel, yes or no?” Hammond asked with a frown. “Sam?” he then ventured, seeing the man sigh deeply. He had to have this niggling feeling answered. A feeling they’d not only toed the line but had crossed it, more than once.

“You will find my prints and DNA at – major Carter’s – house.”

“In what shape or form?” Hammond pressed. “Jack, is there something going on I should know about?”

Jack knew that if he lied, things would get worse. If he told the truth, he’d be slapped with a court-martial. Rock and a hard place. Ever since Monday he’d known this day would come. The choice had been the simplest one he’d ever made. He’d aways choose Sam. Always. He tapped the desk in front of him and thought of the best way to say what he wanted to say, and decided on the truth as he didn’t want this, what he and Sam shared, to be a lie, ever. It was too magical to be a lie, especially with her sunny smile and starlit eyes, no lies for his Sam.

“Am writing my resignation letter, am retiring,” Jack said, seeing a flash of Sam’s sunny smile in the back of his mind.

“’Scuse me?” Hammond asked, seeing Jack sigh again and not knowing what the hell to make of that comment. “What’s going on Jack?”

“George, I’m retiring,” Jack said again, finishing his coffee. “We done here?”

“No, we’re not.”

A silence fell in Hammond’s office. Not comfortable but not uncomfortable either as the men stared at each other. Hammond pushed Fraiser’s report to the side and leaned forward. He’d known Jack for a very long time and respected him, but what the man had just said baffled him. Jack simply shoved his empty mug to and fro across the table, wanting nothing but to go home, home to Sam. Take care of her, hold her. Simple things.

“It’s worth a court-martial,” Jack eventually said with a deep sigh.

“What?” Hammond asked, now seriously having lost the plot.

“You heard.”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” Hammond said, getting up and walking round, sitting down on the edge of his desk. He saw the man was somewhere else in his mind and felt for him. He was clearly struggling with something and he didn’t like to see his friend struggle. “Look, whatever it is, whatever happened, let me be the judge of that. Jack, I’ve known you for a very long time, you’re one of my best officers.”

“As I said, general,” Jack said getting up and walking to the window, looking down at the dimly lit control room. “Am retiring.”

“Need a valid reason, Jack.”

Jack nodded at nothing in particular and said: “Sam and I. That.”

“You’re seeing each other?”

“Yeah.”

“When did this happen?”

“Officially, last week Monday.”

“Unofficially?”

“We feel feelings,” Jack sighed. “A while. Just. Things happened. I knew, just. Knew.”

“Jack,” Hammond sighed. “There are options.”

“Been over that,” Jack said, turning to Hammond. “No CoC means retiring or resigning.”

“Fly out of Nellis, experimental craft, training recruits, Area51, Pentagon.”

Jack smiled ruefully. “Not that far apart.”

Hammond sighed and also smiled ruefully. “Nothing needs to be said Jack. My lips are sealed. Let me think it over. Just – be careful for now.”

“Thank you, George.”

“Jack. Why did you leave the scene?” Hammond asked again.

Jack turned back to the window, seeing Sam’s starlit eyes in his mind. He could now tell what had really floated through him, what had really done his nut in. “Sam. When she came to my house all bruised and battered. I should have protected her.”

“You couldn’t have known he’d do that?”

“I was here signing paperwork whilst she was getting clobbered. I should have protected her. That’s all I wanted when I left Pete’s, protect her and take care of her. The pain of seeing her – like that – it was a lot. Too much. All I wanted was to be there, as I wasn’t there when I should have been. I waited till I saw the red and blue before I left.”

“Then it’s Pete’s word against yours.”

“Yeah and how d’ye think it will go down as him thwacking a woman? Well done sarge, hero for smacking a bitch up, here’s yer friggin’ medal. You haven’t seen her face, George, it’s like he laid into her with all his weight! God knows he smacked her head against the fridge!” Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t see her,” he whispered.

“Heard enough from doc Fraiser,” Hammond said. “Let’s wait for the results. Go home, hell, take a week off and take major Carter to the cabin to heal up. That’s an order.” Hammond grabbed Jack by his shoulder and squeezed. “Go on Jack, I have a lot of thinking to do. Take care of – Sam, alright? Let me help you figure this out.”

“Thanks George,” Jack said with a wan smile. “Appreciate it.”

Hammond watched Jack leave and ran a hand across his pate. Then he sighed and shook his head. Whatever he could do he would, but what it was he could do he didn’t know.

~

Pete was sitting on the sofa, glass of whiskey on the table in front of him as his captain came in and sat down as well, waving away the medic that had set his nose.

“Broken?” Captain Yates asked, looking at the blue and white stick-on across Pete’s nose.

“Just a hair fracture,” Pete lied, pressing the icepack against the side of his face, suppressing a groan. That man had some serious fists, for sure.

“What happened?”

“Just a scuffle.”

“Which leaves a black eye the size of a melon?”

“Yeah. It was my fault.”

“Your fault? Care to explain?”

“I guess I started it.”

“How?”

“Woman in a bar,” Pete lied. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth, that it had started because he had punched Sam in the face, sending her reeling, knocking her out. No, he felt he’d deserved that man’s wrath. That man loved her just as much as he loved her, and he’d punched her to bleeding, to black and blue. He knew he would have done the same, where the situation reversed.

“But you’re engaged?”

“Yeah, was being the operative word. Sam blew it off.”

“Right. Needed some solace, needed a drink, understandable. Take some time off, file a report when you’re ready.”

“Nah, am okay. Report’s not needed, sir, leaving it as is. Other man’s turf and all.”

“Your call.”

“Calling it.”

Captain Yates got up and looked down at Pete. He saw a broken man and decided to leave the choice with him. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder and said: “Time off is an order. The rest is up to you. See you in a few days.”

“Yeah, thanks cap,” Pete said, getting up and showing the man out.

He closed the door and turned to the mirror. He’d hung it there for her, as she always rushed about checking things a final time. He walked back to the living room and grabbed his glass, drowning it in one and refilling it. His head hurt, sure, but his heart hurt even more. He’d lost her, forever and for good. He downed his second glass and refilled it straight away. He then took a picture from the mantelpiece, him and Sam, hugging, a better time. He remembered the anger in the man’s face, the blood on his shirt, the growling undertone in his voice. And he’d been the one responsible for that blood, that anger. He’d hit the most beautiful woman in the world, a woman he loved more than life, a woman he’d lost forever. His face and nose were his own fault, he shouldn’t have hit her, he should have talked to her, calmly. He touched his nose and winced. His own fault. He downed his glass and refilled it. Sam. Sam was gone and there was nothing he could do to get her back unless he filed and broke her heart all over again. He shook his head. Sam had said yes to someone else. All he wanted was for her to be happy. If that was with someone else, he wouldn’t ruin it, ever. He’d ruined everything by hitting her, he would not ruin anything for her ever again.

~

Hammond looked up at Fraiser, her eyes angry, her stance one of defiance. He had read the report twice now and didn’t like what he was reading one bit.

“You serious?” Hammond asked Angry Doc.

“Positive,” Fraiser growled. “He must have hit her full force. There is a substantial dent on the side of the fridge. Major Carter is by no means heavy enough to cause that in a fall. How it got there? Three theories; one, Pete smashed her face into it with full force, two, he hit her so hard she went reeling out of control and three is that he smacked the fridge himself. Three we can’t prove unless we confront him and with everything going on I suggest we don’t. Now seeing the damage on Sam’s face, the angle of the impact, my guess is number two.”

“Why would he do this?”

“Sam called off the engagement last week Monday. It’s when she and colonel O’Neill made their relationship official. She said she’d call him, but as she hadn’t officer Shenanigans came round last Friday to get some answers. She said she was packing when he rounded on her and she admitted to being with colonel O’Neill, engagement ring included. He just rounded on her.”

“I know about all of that, doc,” Hammond said. “Leave that side out of the report.”

“Yes sir.”

Hammond got up and shook his head. “There’s a saying about a woman scorned but this is ridiculous. The blood hers too?”

“Yes and also on colonel O’Neill’s shirt.”

“I can see why he did what he did. Don’t condone it, but I do understand. Any other evidence?”

Fraiser sighed. “Yes.”

“And?”

“Colonel O’Neill’s prints and DNA are all over Sam’s place. That confirms his admission.”

“You know he wants to retire?”

“Sam mentioned.”

“What do you think?”

“Sir, you asking me as a doctor or as a friend?”

“As a friend.”

“We should pave the way for them,” Janet said. “Sir, I’m sorry but if you’d seen what I’ve seen, you’d understand why am saying this.”

“I’ll take your word for it doc,” Hammond said. “Am already looking into it.”

“You – you are?”

Hammond turned and saw doc Fraiser’s anxious face. He nodded. “They’re my friends too.”

“Yes sir,” Janet said, hiding her smile. “Thank you, general.”

Janet turned with a sigh and walked out before she let her face crack open in a wide smile. She almost started to skip when she said a silent prayer: ‘Yes! Yes! Because I care about her. A lot more than I’m supposed to.’ Those lines had never left her memory, neither had the silent gazes, the love she’d seen the past days since Sam got hit, nor Jack’s devotion to Sam. And yes, she did a little skip, ignoring the frowning faces of the SF’s as she made her way back to the infirmary.