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Consequences 5/5
Jack looked around anxiously for Sam as he came through the gate, but she was nowhere to be seen. The one time he'd talked with her over the radio she'd seemed fine, but he'd been married for too many years to use one public voice-only conversation to gauge her mood. His team wasn't there, either. In fact-
"Colonel?"
He turned his attention to the petite brunette with the caduceus on her collar. What was her name? "Doctor Frasier," he said.
"I'll need you to come with me to the infirmary right now so I can run some tests, and confirm that all the nanites have shut themselves down and are being purged from your system," she said, guiding him towards the doors. "It's good to see you, sir, but we want to be sure that all risk to the base has been eliminated."
"Okay," he said, allowing himself to be led. That would explain why the Gate room was empty except for the team that had turned off Pelops' device and escorted him home, and the medical team that had met them.
Once in the infirmary he was scanned in an MRI or something, and then put in an isolation room like the one Kawalsky's surgery had been in, with the wide observation windows. His team was up there, as was Sam. She and Daniel sat watching, Teal'c standing behind them with his hands clasped behind his back. Sam gave him a smile, which he returned; it seemed like a good sign. Teal'c gave him that trademark solemn nod, while Daniel wrinkled his forehead at something Sam said before waving at Jack. Jack waved back at them.
His attention was caught by a movement at his side that turned out to be a male nurse with a big syringe. "What's that for?" he asked as he rolled up his sleeve.
"Doctor Frasier needs another blood sample to check on the nanites," the nurse replied as he swabbed a piece of Jack's arm with alcohol.
"Y'know, they sent several samples through to the SGC before they let any of us come home," Jack pointed out.
"I know." He jabbed him with the needle. "We need to do some more tests over a period of time to make sure they really are dead."
"How much blood is Frasier going to want?" Jack asked.
"You'd have to ask her that, sir." He took the needle out and put it away. "I'd say she's going to want a lot, though."
"I knew it," Jack said, playing to the guys in the observation lounge. "All docs are vampires."
That garnered a bit of a laugh from the peanut gallery; evidently the room was miked for sound. Daniel leaned over to a microphone near him. "Be nice, Jack. Janet did more than anyone else besides Sam to figure out what happened to you and get you home."
"I'm always nice!" Jack protested mock innocently. "Hello, sir," he said to Hammond, who had just entered the observation room.
"Colonel," Hammond returned. "It's good to see you back, son."
"It's good to be back, sir, but," Jack gestured down at himself, "right now it looks like I should be the one calling you that."
"Maybe, but not for long."
Jack glanced over at the door to the isolation room. It was open, and Frasier stood there with a file folder in hand. Like the nurse who had just left, she wore gloves and a mask, but she pulled the mask down as she stepped further into the room.
"I have some good news," she said to the observers. "As far as we can tell, the nanites are flushing themselves out of his system at a rapid rate. We'll want to keep him for observation, and keep running blood work to keep track of it, but I can't see any cause for concern at this point. Also," she turned to Jack, "from the scans we've taken, the alterations in your body seem to be mostly cosmetic in nature-wrinkled skin, white hair, stooped posture, etc. There does not seem to be any permanent effect on your internal organs, and I don't believe the cosmetic changes will be permanent, either."
"Bottom line, doctor?" Hammond asked over the intercom.
Frasier cocked her head. "The bottom line is that while we'll want to keep him here for observation until this process is completed, Jack should end up the same age he was when he arrived on Argos. I doubt the actual Argosians will regress in age."
"That would make sense," Sam broke in. "They've depended on the nanites for their growth since birth, which means the alterations would have been much more than cosmetic alone."
"Exactly." Frasier nodded.
"How long will it take for Colonel O'Neill to return to normal?" Hammond asked.
"Well, I couldn't say, exactly." Janet put a hand in the pocket of her lab coat. "But at the rate things are progressing, probably about a week."
"So," Jack said, fighting down his annoyance that they'd all been talking about him rather than too him, "bottom line is that I need to pack all my annoying old fart stuff into the next week?"
Frasier gave him an amused smile. "Basically, yes, sir," she replied. "After that, you won't have any excuse."
"Damn," Jack said. "And I was so looking forward to it!" He felt his face split wide in a grin and bounced on his toes a little bit.
A snort from the observation lounge drew his attention back. Daniel's smile looked as wide as Jack's felt. "As if you need an excuse to be annoying," the archaeologist said.
Jack made a face at him, but couldn't muster anything crankier than that at the moment. He looked to Sam, locking eyes with her. God, she looked gorgeous. Her eyes were bright with moisture, but she was smiling back at him. Suddenly shy, he shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. She'd never looked at him that intensely before. Sara used to, back when they were first together, but even the thought of his ex-wife couldn't dampen his spirits at the moment.
"How long does he have to stay in isolation, Doctor?" Hammond's question broke the moment, and Jack tore his eyes away from Sam. From the amused look, his CO had caught the googly eyes.
"I'd say a couple of days, sir," Janet said, "just to be on the safe side. Especially given Captain Carter's condition, we don't want to take any unnecessary risk.
Jack practically growled at the thought of Sam being stuck behind glass for that long. He hadn't seen her for a while, he'd thought he was going to die, and ok, yeah, he knew it was just near-death nerves and hormones, but he really wanted to see his girlfriend face-to-face, dammit!
"Thank you," Hammond replied. "It's good to have you back, Colonel." He nodded to Jack, glanced at Daniel and Teal'c, and left.
"Well, I think that's all I need from you for now," Janet said briskly. "If you have any problems or concerns, colonel, you can use the intercom to call for help. In the mean-time, I'll be studying these samples." She gave him a smile and tuned on her heel. He watched her leave, bemused.
"Jack, if you need anything let us know, okay?" Jack turned back to see Daniel standing. Teal'c gave him a slight bow, and the two left together. As they moved out of his line of vision Jack looked back at Sam; she was still watching them go. After a bit she turned back to him.
"I smell a conspiracy," Jack said mock suspiciously.
Sam raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you care?"
"Well, now that you mention it, no," Jack said with a slight laugh. "So, how're you doing?" he asked. "How have things ... been while I've been gone?" He regretted asking, because her face lost a lot of its glow.
"I missed you," she said. "I was so worried. And I felt so useless, especially after General Hammond ordered the samples destroyed and there was nothing more I could do to help." She wrapped her arms around herself, blinking back tears. For the first time, he noticed how red her eyes and nose were. "How are you doing? You were the one who was going to die, after all."
"Well, yeah," Jack admitted, "but I was unconscious for most of it. Besides," he said with a shrug, "I've been in worse situations. Not a prisoner, no real injuries, nice weather, nice people ..." he trailed off, trying to think of something else that would comfort her. "Dan-el was a pretty cute kid," he said, throat tightening. "He helped me search. He was the one who actually found the damn thing-it was hidden inside that statue. The Argosians pulled it down after I told them what Pelops had done to them, and he spotted it while the kids were playing on the statue..."
"Jack," Sam interrupted, voice thick, "please."
That shut up his patter. "I'm sorry."
"I know Argos is a nice place," Sam said, "but after what that woman did to you..." She trailed off, shaking her head, not able to look at him. Jack came up to the window and placed his hand on the glass in front of her. God, he wished he were on the other side of it. She looked like she could desperately use a hug, and he wouldn't exactly turn one down at the moment, himself. She placed a hand on the glass on the other side of his, staring at them.
"I know," Jack said quietly. He tried to remember how to talk about the hard stuff. If he'd ever really known, he'd forgotten a long time ago. Sara had always complained about it, and it had been the straw that broke the camel's back in their marriage, after Charlie's death. "She didn't know any better." He tried to convince himself, but a wave of nausea flooded him. Now that Pelops' damn bugs were out of his system and he was sleeping normally, he'd have nightmares for sure. And he'd be in the infirmary for everyone to see and hear. Wonderful.
Sam snorted. "Maybe so, but that still doesn't make it right. And I really doubt it makes you feel any better!"
"You got me there," Jack admitted, "but like I said, I've been through worse. Don't worry about me."
Sam narrowed her eyes. "What, you've been raped before?" she said sarcastically.
Jack could feel himself shut down, emotionally. "Can we not talk about that?" It came out harsher than he'd intended. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing his thoughts away. It wasn't usually so difficult, but then, the memories weren't usually this clear, either. God, the shrinks were gonna want his ass. He'd had more than enough of their crap after Iraq, and he was so not looking forward to going through the whole thing again.
"Jack?" Sam was watching him, he realized. Well, staring might be a better word for it. "Have you been raped before?"
Damn. He didn't think she was going to let this go; Sara wouldn't have. Sam didn't know him as well, but from what he knew of her she substituted a geek's curiosity and tenaciousness for Sara's wifely instincts. "Can we not talk about this right now?" he repeated. He had no doubt she'd get it out of him sometime; he couldn't exactly freeze her out, not given what was at stake; he wanted to be his kid's dad, and that would be a problem if they didn't get along.
"All right," Sam replied slowly, still eyeing him suspiciously.
They stood in silence like that for some time, hands pressed against the glass, neither quite sure what to say. At last, Jack broke the silence. "How about O'Malley's?"
"What?" Sam looked confused; he made himself a mental reminder to mark that one down on his calendar. It wasn't every day a dumb flyboy like him got to confuse a scientist as brilliant as Sam.
"O'Malleys," he repeated patiently, giving her a bit of a smirk. "You, me, food. As soon as I'm cleared to get out of here. What do you think?"
She gave him a half a smile. "I'd like that."
"Sweet."
Sam paced, waiting for Janet to finish her rounds. The clicking of heels announced the petite doctor's arrival. "Sam, hello," she said. "What can I do for you?"
"Can I talk with you?" Sam asked, shifting from foot to foot.
Janet raised an eyebrow. "Sure," she said, leading the way to a lab room not currently in use. "What is it?" she asked after closing the door.
"I know you have to be careful about doctor-patient confidentiality," Sam said, "but Jack mentioned something to me but wouldn't explain it, and I was hoping you'd be able to at least confirm what I thought he meant." She took a deep breath. "Has Jack ever been raped? I mean, before now?"
Janet's face grew still. "Sam, without his consent I can't talk to you about anything in his medical record."
Sam nodded, blinking back tears. That sounded like a confirmation to her. "Okay." She looked away, biting her lip, trying to figure out what to do from here. Jack wouldn't accept sympathy for it, he'd made that clear enough. He didn't want to talk about it at all. But it wasn't something she could just ignore.
"Sam-" Janet sighed, folding her arms. "Colonel O'Neill is a very private man. You know this as well as I. He was in special ops for many years, doing a lot of difficult, dangerous things. He's bound to have some skeletons in his closet, and if he doesn't want to talk about it, you can't force him. The only advice I can give you is to see a counselor, who can help you find the best way to handle the situation."
"But Jack's the one who needs counseling," Sam objected.
"It might help him, yes," Janet agreed. "But, honey, he has to want it, for it to work. You can't force someone to deal with their problems. That's something they have to choose for themselves. And Colonel O'Neill has been ... resistant to counseling in the past. He doesn't like psychologists. All you can do is learn to give him the support he needs to deal with things in his own way." She shrugged. "A psychologist might be able to help you do that. There are several good ones in the area that I could recommend."
Sam looked down, thinking. "I might ask for that later," she said slowly, "but not now. Let's see how this goes, first."
"Okay." Janet smiled. "How about we go get something to eat?"
"Sounds good to me," Sam said. "Just let me clean up a little, first." She brushed some of the moisture away from her eyes. "I'll meet you there in a couple of minutes."
Eight days later, Jack stood on his deck, closed his eyes, and breathed in the crisp, cool mountain air. The smell of the outdoors was more than welcome after over a week of being stuck underground in that damned fishbowl of an isolation room. And while Argos had been nice, in an abstract kind of way, he hadn't exactly been in a mood to enjoy himself. And now here he was, home at last, nothing to do over the weekend but watch ESPN and hang out on the couch with popcorn and a beer. If it weren't so late in the year he'd drag out the grill, but late September was a little too cold to do stuff like that in Colorado Springs. Then Monday, he'd be back to work at the mountain as usual. He hoped the nightmares would be gone by then. He didn't get them often, but the whole thing on Argos, and then the first conversation with Sam, had brought them back with a vengeance.
The sound of a car pulling in to his driveway brought his attention back to the present. Curious, he followed his deck around to where he could see it; it was Sam's volvo. He frowned. They were supposed to meet at O'Malley's tomorrow night, but had no plans for this evening, and her hints about being ready to listen if he was ready to talk had made their upcoming date lose a lot of its anticipation on his part. He hadn't even known she knew where his house was, though he supposed she could have asked Daniel easily enough. The archaeologist had only moved out a couple of weeks ago; it had taken a while to get his finances and things straightened out after being dead for a year, but the archaeologist had turned out to be a packrat of the most amazing order. It turned out that while Daniel had been living out of a suitcase and a backpack when he'd been originally hired, he'd had a storage unit of stuff back in Chicago. It was mostly books and a collection of old stuff he could have probably sold for a bundle if he'd been willing to part with any of it. Jack shook his head in bemusement at the archaeologist's priorities, then went inside to greet Sam at the front door.
He reached the front door as the doorbell rang. Instead of opening it, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself that even if Sam wanted to talk about things better left in the past where they belonged, she was the mother of his child and he had to play nicely with her. More than that, he had to keep her happy enough that she wanted to spend time with him and keep him fully involved. He blew out the breath he'd been holding and opened the door.
He raised his eyebrows. "Wow." He stepped aside to let her come in. "You look great. Can I take your coat?"
"Sure," she said, coming in and shrugging it off. He closed the door behind her and took it. She wasn't wearing anything sexy, just jeans and a sweater, but her curves had filled out a little in ways that BDUs just didn't do credit to. He blinked and hung the coat up in the closet. "Can I get you anything?" he asked. "I haven't had time to go shopping since I got back, and I'm kinda afraid to see what might be growing in my fridge, but I'm pretty sure I could manage water or juice or something."
"No, I'm fine," she said with a tense smile. That didn't look good. "So, can I get the nickel tour?"
"Sure," Jack said.
Half an hour later they sat on the couch in the living room. Sam had a glass of orange juice while Jack nursed a beer.
"So, what brings you out to my neck of the woods?" Jack asked, as casually as he could make it sound. He liked the silence-it was better than what they could have been talking about-but Sam seemed uncomfortable.
Sam shrugged, looking down at her drink. "Just wanted to see how you were," she said, in a performance that was so not worthy of an Oscar. Brilliant astrophysicist she might be, but she was no actress.
"Ah." Jack let it hang there to see if she wanted to start the conversation; she was much better at small talk than he was. No such luck. "Is that so?" he asked, proving that he wasn't going to win any awards for conversation, either, tonight.
"No," she admitted with a sigh. She grimaced. "Well, it is, at least partly," she said, partially turning to face him. "When you were unconscious, and then after you were on Argos, I was so worried for you. And then after you got back, you were in isolation and I couldn't touch you, but I could still go into the observation room and see you. And then you went home today, and I guess I kind of needed to come see you and make sure you were still okay. I mean, I know you're fine, and Janet cleared you, and everything, but I needed the reassurance of actually seeing you. I was just ..." Her words trailed off, and she looked to the side, blinking back tears.
Jack studied her for a few seconds. He put his beer down on the coffee table. "C'mere," he said, reaching out and drawing her against his shoulder. She sighed, snuggling in, and he sat back against the back of the couch. She toed off her slippers and curled up against him. He rubbed her back slowly, luxuriating in the feel of her against him. At twenty, he would never have believed how great just holding a woman could be, no sex involved, just solid human contact. Twenty year olds were idiots.
"Thank you, Jack." Sam adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. "This is exactly what I needed, right now."
"All part of the service." And if she'd rather be held than talk about ... what he thought she wanted to talk about, he was all for that.
After about twenty minutes, she stirred. "Jack?" she said.
"Yeah?" He tensed slightly, dreading what might be coming.
It didn't go unnoticed. She began rubbing his chest slightly. "I know you've had a hard life, a hard career. With that long in special operations, you've probably seen a lot of horrible stuff, done some of it to others and had it done to you. Whether or not you tell me about it, and how much you tell me, is up to you. But if you keep me in the dark, I'm always going to wonder. I know a lot of it is classified, but you know my security clearances are very high. I'm not going to drown you in sympathy or anything, I just want to know. I need to know."
Jack gave a light nod, staring off at the wall across from him. God, this was one conversation he did not want to have. If he told her what she wanted to know, he would open up a whole can of worms in their relationship. On the other hand, his slip the day he'd been brought back had already opened it up, at least partly. If he wanted to keep her happy, he had to tell her something. And he had no doubt that her fertile scientist brain had come up with worst-case scenarios way worse than anything that had actually happened to him. In the end, it came down to one question: did he trust her enough to reveal that much of himself? He'd only known her for a few months, after all. Granted, they'd been an intense few months, but he'd known Sara for years and had never told her what Carter wanted to know. And look where it had gotten him. He leaned forward to grab his beer again. For this conversation, he thought he'd need it. "Okay."
The first thing Sam noticed, the next morning, was that she had a crick in her neck from sleeping funny. That somewhat confusing thought brought her to full awareness when it led to a memory of exactly where she'd been when she fell asleep-on Jack's couch. Well, on Jack, actually. And, from the rather lumpy, warm mass underneath her, that's where they'd stayed. All night, judging from the amount of light leaking in through her closed eyelids. Suppressing the urge to just burrow in deeper and go back to sleep, Sam yawned and opened her eyes.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Jack said with a grin. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well, thanks," Sam said, returning his smile. She checked her watch. "Oh, my God, it's almost nine! I never sleep in this late!"
"Not even on Saturdays?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. "Which this is, I might add."
"Not even Saturdays," Sam confirmed. She thought about getting up, but aside from her neck, she was too comfortable. "Weekdays I'm up at 0530, so sleeping in till 0700 feels like a real indulgence. Usually I get up and jog or go to the gym, or something, on a Saturday morning. Although, since transferring to the SGC I seem to be working more weekends than not."
"Well, you must really have needed the extra sleep, then."
"Yeah," Sam said with another yawn. "I really haven't slept much the last two or three weeks." Which worked out to 'since Jack left for Argos,' and judging by the way he tensed under her, ever so slightly, he had made the same connection. If she'd been more awake, she probably wouldn't have put it like that ... "How did you sleep?"
"Pretty well," Jack said, and it might have been more convincing if he hadn't had bags under his eyes and yawned right in the middle of saying it.
"Jack?" She frowned suspiciously at him.
"What?" he said, trying to pull off an innocent face. It didn't work, and she frowned at him until he caved. "Okay, I didn't get much sleep."
He tried to shrug it off as if it was nothing, but Sam wasn't buying it. "You know, if I was too heavy or uncomfortable, you could have gone to your own bed and left me here with a pillow and blanket," she pointed out, hoping it was just her that had kept him up. He'd told her about some very unpleasant things in his past, and though he'd only sketched the outlines of most of them, she hated to think that telling her about them had stirred up nightmares.
"Nah," Jack said with a wave. "It was my pleasure. Besides," he said with a wink and a playful leer, "my Mom always said that when a gentleman sleeps with a woman, he wakes up with her the next morning."
"She said that, did she," Sam said with raised eyebrows. That was ... awfully liberated for a Catholic wife and mother from his parents' generation.
"Well, no, not exactly," Jack admitted. "There ... may have been something in there about going to Hell for sleeping with a girl outside of Holy Matrimony ... but I don't remember any etiquette lessons for what to do afterwards." He frowned, theatrically. "I'm pretty sure there was something in there about going to Hell for getting a girl pregnant and not marrying her. I think."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "And yet, I am unmoved." She gave him a smirk. "Seriously, though, I wouldn't have minded."
"Seriously, though," he said, mimicking her tone, "I didn't mind." He glanced out across his living room. "Besides, I got a little too much sleep in the last couple weeks, y'know?" He shook his head and smiled at her. "But now that you're awake, I have to go answer the call of nature." He brushed a kiss on her forehead and she sat up, wincing a little as she stretched.
"I guess I'll head out then," Sam said, slightly disappointed but not wanting to show it. "See you tonight at O'Malley's?"
"You betcha," O'Neill confirmed with a grin.
Jack watched her pull out of his driveway, then returned to a house that suddenly seemed much emptier. He leaned back against the door and listened to the stillness, for a while. Damn, he'd forgotten how nice human contact could be when it wasn't strictly work related or a 'one-of-the-guys' thing. Okay, his sloppy sentimental side was showing, but he'd loved just holding her all night, and watching her sleep, despite the fact that his couch wasn't the most comfortable of places to sleep and at his age, you noticed these things. In fact, he wanted to do it again tonight, though maybe in a real bed this time. And the night after that, and the night after that ...
Jack shook his head at himself. Man, he had it bad. Not that that was a bad thing, but if he wanted to be cool and avoid making a total ass of himself, it was something to keep in mind. Wanting to spend hours holding a girl in your arms, no hanky-panky needed, indicated a little more than just your average garden-variety lust. Although, he certainly wouldn't turn down any hanky-panky if it was offered; he shook his head. Only a couple three or four months along, Sam wasn't showing yet, but her normally very nice figure had ... blossomed. Become more lush. In ways his body had found very interesting in the wee hours of the morning with her wiggling on top of him to find a more comfortable sleeping position. He was glad she'd been lying the way she had when she woke up; that had not been his sidearm, standing at attention. But he didn't think she'd noticed it. Hopefully not. Sex-starved was not the way he wanted to come off. He shook his head again and headed towards the bathroom, peeling off yesterday's clothes as he went.
Sam glanced at the clock as she towelled her hair dry. Noon. Since leaving Jack's place, she'd gotten in her run, had lunch, and taken a shower. Running was such a great way to process things, and she'd had a lot to process. Sam wasn't all that cuddly a girl, normally, but last night had been great. Just the snuggling and waking up together would've been fine, as stressed out and worried for him as she'd been lately. Actually talking with Jack, seriously, about his past? That had been a lot of things. In some parts it'd been disturbing; to use his own words there was some 'damned distasteful things' there. Some parts of it had been funny, others sad or tragic. The man had seen and done a lot of things in a life and career that spanned the globe and now the galaxy. Much of it had made her uncomfortable. But she was glad she knew it. Janet was right; he had issues. But now that she knew what they were, she could deal with them, she thought. It was the not knowing that had been the killer.
What to do with the rest of the day? She didn't have any projects that particularly needed attention at work, and she wasn't really feeling social. Last night was just the sort of thing Janet would love to hear about, but her rapport with Jack was a bit too new and fragile for Sam to want to parade it around. Was there anything that needed to be done around here? She was pretty much unpacked; she probably needed to do some laundry. Getting a load started, she wandered around her apartment with a critical eye.
Definitely not a place for a kid. Besides the single bedroom, there wasn't much of a lawn, and there were no parks nearby. Maybe she should start looking for a new apartment now, so she could be moved and settled in before the baby came. That would make the most sense; it'd be easier, and it meant that all the baby stuff she'd need to get wouldn't have to be moved. Which brought up another issue: what baby stuff would she need? Sam hung the towel up on the rack and wandered out to the kitchen, where she got out a pencil and paper.
Crib, car seat, childproofing stuff, clothes ... what else did babies need? Sam wished she had more friends with kids, well, any friends with kids. Never having been around babies much, she had no idea what she was getting into. She rubbed her forehead. Maybe she could get some advice from Mark when she told him. That was one of the few things he had in common with Dad-they both liked to give advice. Which brought up the fact that she hadn't told them, yet. It was only going to get harder, she knew that, but it was an issue that she could procrastinate over for at least another day. Back to baby stuff.
She needed to do some research, was what she needed to do. Sam decided to hit the library later that day to look over their childcare section. And any pregnancy books they might have. Going to browse through baby stores would be a good idea too, but Jack would be upset if she did that without him. She shook her head, amused that it hadn't occurred to her two minutes ago. Jack, being a parent, would already know a lot of stuff about babies. He'd been through this before. The library was still a good idea, and asking Mark's advice would help smooth things over with him, but Jack was the one she really needed to be talking with. He might like helping her look for a new place, too.
They could talk about all this tonight at O'Malley's. Okay, it wasn't very romantic or anything, but Sam was a practical girl, and a romantic evening out while so many issues needed to be dealt with would just bug her. And a steakhouse wasn't the most romantic place, anyway. So what exactly did they need to talk about? After the library, she'd have a better idea of what baby stuff needed discussion. That left the housing situation.
Did she want Jack's help on that? Well, yes. Apartment hunting wasn't much fun alone, and he might have opinions about what kind of place he wanted his child to live in. Sam bit her lip. She needed a list of criteria. Glancing down at the paper in front of her, she drew a line down the middle and started another list.
At least two bedrooms. Lawn or playground for the baby. Good, safe neighborhood. Near the mountain. Near Jack's house. Good kitchen. Affordable rent. Sam paused, unable to think of any other major criteria, and considered her list.
Jack watched, bemused, as Sam made a note on her list. Not that making lists was a bad thing, mind; it's just, he'd never seen anyone plot out their shopping with the precision of a military operation before. He'd also never seen anyone take briefing notes about babies, before. She turned back to the original page she'd brought in and checked something off.
"Y'know, maybe it's just me," he observed, "but I always thought that on a 'date' one ... dated. Flirting, footsy, yadda yadda." He waved his hand in the air vaguely.
"Really?" Sam looked up, eyebrow raised. She studied him for a second and Jack shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
"This is all great stuff," he said, nodding at the notes covering the table, "but do we have to do it now?" After their over night cuddle session he'd been kind of expecting something a little more ... intimate. Personal.
"Why Jack, I didn't know you wanted hearts and flowers," Sam said. She glanced around and gave him a little bit of a smirk. "I don't know how I could have missed it, in this romantic hot spot, after all our passionate rendezvous here."
Jack sat back and raised an eyebrow at the snarkiness that was worthy of, well, him. She didn't seem annoyed, though, just amused. "Why, Samantha, was that a hint?"
The smirk got a little wider. "Maybe."
"So, if I asked you out to something a little more ... intimate, like dancing or an opera or a fancy restaurant or a movie. Or maybe a couple of them together," he hastened to add as she eyed him. "Would you accept?"
"Maybe," she said again, cocking her head. "If you play your cards right." She watched him expectantly.
Jack opened his mouth, then realized he had no idea what to ask her. It'd been a while since he'd been out on a date with anyone besides Sara, and the only thing he was sure of was that he wanted their dates to be distinct from stuff he'd done with Sara. Maybe he should figure out what she'd like to do. Doc Frasier was her friend; he'd have to see about getting some inside information there. "I'll get back to you on that."
Sam studied him for a little bit before nodding and going back to her list. If Jack wasn't fooling himself, that looked like a hint of disappointment in her face. "The last thing is housing," she said. "I was wondering if you could help me out, here. My apartment is too small-only one bedroom-and there's not really any place for a child to play outside nearby. I'd like to be moved before the baby comes, because that'll be a lot less hassle than afterwards. I need a place with at least two bedrooms, a lawn or playground, a safe neighborhood, close to the mountain, near you ... " She trailed off and looked at him expectantly.
"Well, I can help you look for a new place," he said, hoping that was the answer she was looking for.
She tilted her head. "We could do that," she said, scrunching up her face. "Or ..."
He blinked a couple of times, like a deer in the headlights. "Or ... what?" he asked, after frantically wracking his brain to figure out what she was hinting at.
Sam leaned back, eyebrows raised in exasperation. "Or, I seem to recall that you have three bedrooms."
"That's true," he agreed. "Oh." He felt a grin stretching across his face. "And in which bedroom would you be sleeping?"
"That could be negotiated." She would have looked prim if it weren't for the twinkling of her eyes.
"I see," Jack said. He paused. "I thought you wanted to take things slow ...?" he said as delicately as he knew how. "Not that I think it's a bad idea, I'm just curious," he added.
"Well, Jack," Carter said in the same tones she used to explain scientific phenomena. "We are taking it slower than you wanted, if you remember. I wanted time to get to know you before making any big decisions. I have gotten to know you better, much better than I did when you asked me to marry you. Moving in together is the next logical step to seeing if we might be compatible for ...the step after that. If we can live together, that's great. If we drive each other nuts, it's best to find that out before making any legal changes that are hard to undo later." She shrugged. "Besides, like I said, I need to move before the baby comes anyway. Moving in with you saves time, energy, money ..."
"Body heat," Jack said with a playful leer.
"That, too," Sam said, returning it. She sobered a little bit. "Look, this is kind of a hard step for me." She looked down at her plate. "Jonas didn't ... change until after we'd moved in together. And you know how that turned out." Looking back up, she gave him a sad smile. "But I know you're not him, and I refuse to be ruled by my fears. And the one good thing about that whole mess is that it proved to me that if I get into a bad situation like that somehow, I can get myself out of it again."
Jack nodded, touched that she'd shared that with him. That whole issue had never occurred to him, and he wondered what other scars that nutcase had left her with. The man should be glad he was already dead. "So, moving party next Saturday? You, me, Daniel, Teal'c, Doc Frasier?"
"My lease isn't up for another eight months," Sam pointed out mildly, raising an eyebrow.
"It's called subletting, Sam," Jack said. "I don't see any point in putting it off, do you? I mean, once the decision's been ... made?" He raised an eyebrow back at her.
"I guess not."
"Perfect!" Jack rubbed his hands together. "So, it's a date?"
Sam smiled at him. "It's a date."
AN1: You may note that I have recycled a great deal of dialogue from the episode "Brief Candle," although not all of it happens in the same scene or even (sometimes) is said by the same person. This was made ever so much easier by the archive of episode transcripts at http://www.moon-catchin.net/gatenoise/index.htm, which were made by the Sg1 Transcript group on Yahoogroups. They have all my thanks for their excellent work.
AN2: Carter and religion. Her dog tags state that she is a Roman Catholic. In an interview at Gateworld, Amanda Tapping says that Carter may not go to church every Sunday, but still has a deep faith and prays regularly. I have ignored the RC thing, but kept the faith aspects; in this fic, she's an Episcopalian (that's Anglican for you Brits out there). After all, Episcopalian is, barring Lutheranism, as close to Catholic as you can get and still be a Protestant, and I figured Jack was probably at least nominally Catholic, if he was anything at all.
AN3: Jack has a line towards the end of the fic: "I knew it. All docs are vampires." This line was taken almost directly out of a Star Trek novel I read as a teen; the novel was titled "Uhura's Song," but I don't remember who wrote it. I have since been told that the line originally comes from the episode "The Deadly Years," which I have never seen to the best of my knowledge, so I'll have to take that one on faith.
AN4: Thanks to the Department of Health and Human Services website for the specific information regarding date-rape drugs. http://www.4woman.gov/faq/rohypnol.htm. Yes, I know that Jack gets over his rape very easily in this story. The actual episode "Brief Candle" doesn't even mention it as such, which it clearly is; my main problem with the episode-it ignores a very real issue that is integral to the plot. Jack is given the off-world equivalent of a date-rape drug, and from the resulting encounter he receives an STD. Yet, Jack shows no psychological symptoms of assault. He isn't even more irritable than normal!
Degrees of psych trauma (or at least visible symptoms thereof) can vary wildly depending on the circumstances of the rape and the psychological make-up of the victim. Jack has had a hard life (including being captured in an Iraqi POW camp, being tortured, etc.). Over the years (I assume), he has developed efficient coping mechanisms for a wide variety of traumas such as being tortured or (in this case) raped. In addition, Kynthia didn't mean to rape him, or coerce him in any way, and is quite contrite about the whole thing. That, combined with Jack's general avoidance of introspection, is my justification for getting him off as light as he is. I really didn't want to write a rape-fic and deal with those issues, but I couldn't just ignore the whole thing either.
Part 2/5
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Part 4/5
Jack looked around anxiously for Sam as he came through the gate, but she was nowhere to be seen. The one time he'd talked with her over the radio she'd seemed fine, but he'd been married for too many years to use one public voice-only conversation to gauge her mood. His team wasn't there, either. In fact-
"Colonel?"
He turned his attention to the petite brunette with the caduceus on her collar. What was her name? "Doctor Frasier," he said.
"I'll need you to come with me to the infirmary right now so I can run some tests, and confirm that all the nanites have shut themselves down and are being purged from your system," she said, guiding him towards the doors. "It's good to see you, sir, but we want to be sure that all risk to the base has been eliminated."
"Okay," he said, allowing himself to be led. That would explain why the Gate room was empty except for the team that had turned off Pelops' device and escorted him home, and the medical team that had met them.
Once in the infirmary he was scanned in an MRI or something, and then put in an isolation room like the one Kawalsky's surgery had been in, with the wide observation windows. His team was up there, as was Sam. She and Daniel sat watching, Teal'c standing behind them with his hands clasped behind his back. Sam gave him a smile, which he returned; it seemed like a good sign. Teal'c gave him that trademark solemn nod, while Daniel wrinkled his forehead at something Sam said before waving at Jack. Jack waved back at them.
His attention was caught by a movement at his side that turned out to be a male nurse with a big syringe. "What's that for?" he asked as he rolled up his sleeve.
"Doctor Frasier needs another blood sample to check on the nanites," the nurse replied as he swabbed a piece of Jack's arm with alcohol.
"Y'know, they sent several samples through to the SGC before they let any of us come home," Jack pointed out.
"I know." He jabbed him with the needle. "We need to do some more tests over a period of time to make sure they really are dead."
"How much blood is Frasier going to want?" Jack asked.
"You'd have to ask her that, sir." He took the needle out and put it away. "I'd say she's going to want a lot, though."
"I knew it," Jack said, playing to the guys in the observation lounge. "All docs are vampires."
That garnered a bit of a laugh from the peanut gallery; evidently the room was miked for sound. Daniel leaned over to a microphone near him. "Be nice, Jack. Janet did more than anyone else besides Sam to figure out what happened to you and get you home."
"I'm always nice!" Jack protested mock innocently. "Hello, sir," he said to Hammond, who had just entered the observation room.
"Colonel," Hammond returned. "It's good to see you back, son."
"It's good to be back, sir, but," Jack gestured down at himself, "right now it looks like I should be the one calling you that."
"Maybe, but not for long."
Jack glanced over at the door to the isolation room. It was open, and Frasier stood there with a file folder in hand. Like the nurse who had just left, she wore gloves and a mask, but she pulled the mask down as she stepped further into the room.
"I have some good news," she said to the observers. "As far as we can tell, the nanites are flushing themselves out of his system at a rapid rate. We'll want to keep him for observation, and keep running blood work to keep track of it, but I can't see any cause for concern at this point. Also," she turned to Jack, "from the scans we've taken, the alterations in your body seem to be mostly cosmetic in nature-wrinkled skin, white hair, stooped posture, etc. There does not seem to be any permanent effect on your internal organs, and I don't believe the cosmetic changes will be permanent, either."
"Bottom line, doctor?" Hammond asked over the intercom.
Frasier cocked her head. "The bottom line is that while we'll want to keep him here for observation until this process is completed, Jack should end up the same age he was when he arrived on Argos. I doubt the actual Argosians will regress in age."
"That would make sense," Sam broke in. "They've depended on the nanites for their growth since birth, which means the alterations would have been much more than cosmetic alone."
"Exactly." Frasier nodded.
"How long will it take for Colonel O'Neill to return to normal?" Hammond asked.
"Well, I couldn't say, exactly." Janet put a hand in the pocket of her lab coat. "But at the rate things are progressing, probably about a week."
"So," Jack said, fighting down his annoyance that they'd all been talking about him rather than too him, "bottom line is that I need to pack all my annoying old fart stuff into the next week?"
Frasier gave him an amused smile. "Basically, yes, sir," she replied. "After that, you won't have any excuse."
"Damn," Jack said. "And I was so looking forward to it!" He felt his face split wide in a grin and bounced on his toes a little bit.
A snort from the observation lounge drew his attention back. Daniel's smile looked as wide as Jack's felt. "As if you need an excuse to be annoying," the archaeologist said.
Jack made a face at him, but couldn't muster anything crankier than that at the moment. He looked to Sam, locking eyes with her. God, she looked gorgeous. Her eyes were bright with moisture, but she was smiling back at him. Suddenly shy, he shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. She'd never looked at him that intensely before. Sara used to, back when they were first together, but even the thought of his ex-wife couldn't dampen his spirits at the moment.
"How long does he have to stay in isolation, Doctor?" Hammond's question broke the moment, and Jack tore his eyes away from Sam. From the amused look, his CO had caught the googly eyes.
"I'd say a couple of days, sir," Janet said, "just to be on the safe side. Especially given Captain Carter's condition, we don't want to take any unnecessary risk.
Jack practically growled at the thought of Sam being stuck behind glass for that long. He hadn't seen her for a while, he'd thought he was going to die, and ok, yeah, he knew it was just near-death nerves and hormones, but he really wanted to see his girlfriend face-to-face, dammit!
"Thank you," Hammond replied. "It's good to have you back, Colonel." He nodded to Jack, glanced at Daniel and Teal'c, and left.
"Well, I think that's all I need from you for now," Janet said briskly. "If you have any problems or concerns, colonel, you can use the intercom to call for help. In the mean-time, I'll be studying these samples." She gave him a smile and tuned on her heel. He watched her leave, bemused.
"Jack, if you need anything let us know, okay?" Jack turned back to see Daniel standing. Teal'c gave him a slight bow, and the two left together. As they moved out of his line of vision Jack looked back at Sam; she was still watching them go. After a bit she turned back to him.
"I smell a conspiracy," Jack said mock suspiciously.
Sam raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you care?"
"Well, now that you mention it, no," Jack said with a slight laugh. "So, how're you doing?" he asked. "How have things ... been while I've been gone?" He regretted asking, because her face lost a lot of its glow.
"I missed you," she said. "I was so worried. And I felt so useless, especially after General Hammond ordered the samples destroyed and there was nothing more I could do to help." She wrapped her arms around herself, blinking back tears. For the first time, he noticed how red her eyes and nose were. "How are you doing? You were the one who was going to die, after all."
"Well, yeah," Jack admitted, "but I was unconscious for most of it. Besides," he said with a shrug, "I've been in worse situations. Not a prisoner, no real injuries, nice weather, nice people ..." he trailed off, trying to think of something else that would comfort her. "Dan-el was a pretty cute kid," he said, throat tightening. "He helped me search. He was the one who actually found the damn thing-it was hidden inside that statue. The Argosians pulled it down after I told them what Pelops had done to them, and he spotted it while the kids were playing on the statue..."
"Jack," Sam interrupted, voice thick, "please."
That shut up his patter. "I'm sorry."
"I know Argos is a nice place," Sam said, "but after what that woman did to you..." She trailed off, shaking her head, not able to look at him. Jack came up to the window and placed his hand on the glass in front of her. God, he wished he were on the other side of it. She looked like she could desperately use a hug, and he wouldn't exactly turn one down at the moment, himself. She placed a hand on the glass on the other side of his, staring at them.
"I know," Jack said quietly. He tried to remember how to talk about the hard stuff. If he'd ever really known, he'd forgotten a long time ago. Sara had always complained about it, and it had been the straw that broke the camel's back in their marriage, after Charlie's death. "She didn't know any better." He tried to convince himself, but a wave of nausea flooded him. Now that Pelops' damn bugs were out of his system and he was sleeping normally, he'd have nightmares for sure. And he'd be in the infirmary for everyone to see and hear. Wonderful.
Sam snorted. "Maybe so, but that still doesn't make it right. And I really doubt it makes you feel any better!"
"You got me there," Jack admitted, "but like I said, I've been through worse. Don't worry about me."
Sam narrowed her eyes. "What, you've been raped before?" she said sarcastically.
Jack could feel himself shut down, emotionally. "Can we not talk about that?" It came out harsher than he'd intended. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing his thoughts away. It wasn't usually so difficult, but then, the memories weren't usually this clear, either. God, the shrinks were gonna want his ass. He'd had more than enough of their crap after Iraq, and he was so not looking forward to going through the whole thing again.
"Jack?" Sam was watching him, he realized. Well, staring might be a better word for it. "Have you been raped before?"
Damn. He didn't think she was going to let this go; Sara wouldn't have. Sam didn't know him as well, but from what he knew of her she substituted a geek's curiosity and tenaciousness for Sara's wifely instincts. "Can we not talk about this right now?" he repeated. He had no doubt she'd get it out of him sometime; he couldn't exactly freeze her out, not given what was at stake; he wanted to be his kid's dad, and that would be a problem if they didn't get along.
"All right," Sam replied slowly, still eyeing him suspiciously.
They stood in silence like that for some time, hands pressed against the glass, neither quite sure what to say. At last, Jack broke the silence. "How about O'Malley's?"
"What?" Sam looked confused; he made himself a mental reminder to mark that one down on his calendar. It wasn't every day a dumb flyboy like him got to confuse a scientist as brilliant as Sam.
"O'Malleys," he repeated patiently, giving her a bit of a smirk. "You, me, food. As soon as I'm cleared to get out of here. What do you think?"
She gave him a half a smile. "I'd like that."
"Sweet."
Sam paced, waiting for Janet to finish her rounds. The clicking of heels announced the petite doctor's arrival. "Sam, hello," she said. "What can I do for you?"
"Can I talk with you?" Sam asked, shifting from foot to foot.
Janet raised an eyebrow. "Sure," she said, leading the way to a lab room not currently in use. "What is it?" she asked after closing the door.
"I know you have to be careful about doctor-patient confidentiality," Sam said, "but Jack mentioned something to me but wouldn't explain it, and I was hoping you'd be able to at least confirm what I thought he meant." She took a deep breath. "Has Jack ever been raped? I mean, before now?"
Janet's face grew still. "Sam, without his consent I can't talk to you about anything in his medical record."
Sam nodded, blinking back tears. That sounded like a confirmation to her. "Okay." She looked away, biting her lip, trying to figure out what to do from here. Jack wouldn't accept sympathy for it, he'd made that clear enough. He didn't want to talk about it at all. But it wasn't something she could just ignore.
"Sam-" Janet sighed, folding her arms. "Colonel O'Neill is a very private man. You know this as well as I. He was in special ops for many years, doing a lot of difficult, dangerous things. He's bound to have some skeletons in his closet, and if he doesn't want to talk about it, you can't force him. The only advice I can give you is to see a counselor, who can help you find the best way to handle the situation."
"But Jack's the one who needs counseling," Sam objected.
"It might help him, yes," Janet agreed. "But, honey, he has to want it, for it to work. You can't force someone to deal with their problems. That's something they have to choose for themselves. And Colonel O'Neill has been ... resistant to counseling in the past. He doesn't like psychologists. All you can do is learn to give him the support he needs to deal with things in his own way." She shrugged. "A psychologist might be able to help you do that. There are several good ones in the area that I could recommend."
Sam looked down, thinking. "I might ask for that later," she said slowly, "but not now. Let's see how this goes, first."
"Okay." Janet smiled. "How about we go get something to eat?"
"Sounds good to me," Sam said. "Just let me clean up a little, first." She brushed some of the moisture away from her eyes. "I'll meet you there in a couple of minutes."
Eight days later, Jack stood on his deck, closed his eyes, and breathed in the crisp, cool mountain air. The smell of the outdoors was more than welcome after over a week of being stuck underground in that damned fishbowl of an isolation room. And while Argos had been nice, in an abstract kind of way, he hadn't exactly been in a mood to enjoy himself. And now here he was, home at last, nothing to do over the weekend but watch ESPN and hang out on the couch with popcorn and a beer. If it weren't so late in the year he'd drag out the grill, but late September was a little too cold to do stuff like that in Colorado Springs. Then Monday, he'd be back to work at the mountain as usual. He hoped the nightmares would be gone by then. He didn't get them often, but the whole thing on Argos, and then the first conversation with Sam, had brought them back with a vengeance.
The sound of a car pulling in to his driveway brought his attention back to the present. Curious, he followed his deck around to where he could see it; it was Sam's volvo. He frowned. They were supposed to meet at O'Malley's tomorrow night, but had no plans for this evening, and her hints about being ready to listen if he was ready to talk had made their upcoming date lose a lot of its anticipation on his part. He hadn't even known she knew where his house was, though he supposed she could have asked Daniel easily enough. The archaeologist had only moved out a couple of weeks ago; it had taken a while to get his finances and things straightened out after being dead for a year, but the archaeologist had turned out to be a packrat of the most amazing order. It turned out that while Daniel had been living out of a suitcase and a backpack when he'd been originally hired, he'd had a storage unit of stuff back in Chicago. It was mostly books and a collection of old stuff he could have probably sold for a bundle if he'd been willing to part with any of it. Jack shook his head in bemusement at the archaeologist's priorities, then went inside to greet Sam at the front door.
He reached the front door as the doorbell rang. Instead of opening it, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself that even if Sam wanted to talk about things better left in the past where they belonged, she was the mother of his child and he had to play nicely with her. More than that, he had to keep her happy enough that she wanted to spend time with him and keep him fully involved. He blew out the breath he'd been holding and opened the door.
He raised his eyebrows. "Wow." He stepped aside to let her come in. "You look great. Can I take your coat?"
"Sure," she said, coming in and shrugging it off. He closed the door behind her and took it. She wasn't wearing anything sexy, just jeans and a sweater, but her curves had filled out a little in ways that BDUs just didn't do credit to. He blinked and hung the coat up in the closet. "Can I get you anything?" he asked. "I haven't had time to go shopping since I got back, and I'm kinda afraid to see what might be growing in my fridge, but I'm pretty sure I could manage water or juice or something."
"No, I'm fine," she said with a tense smile. That didn't look good. "So, can I get the nickel tour?"
"Sure," Jack said.
Half an hour later they sat on the couch in the living room. Sam had a glass of orange juice while Jack nursed a beer.
"So, what brings you out to my neck of the woods?" Jack asked, as casually as he could make it sound. He liked the silence-it was better than what they could have been talking about-but Sam seemed uncomfortable.
Sam shrugged, looking down at her drink. "Just wanted to see how you were," she said, in a performance that was so not worthy of an Oscar. Brilliant astrophysicist she might be, but she was no actress.
"Ah." Jack let it hang there to see if she wanted to start the conversation; she was much better at small talk than he was. No such luck. "Is that so?" he asked, proving that he wasn't going to win any awards for conversation, either, tonight.
"No," she admitted with a sigh. She grimaced. "Well, it is, at least partly," she said, partially turning to face him. "When you were unconscious, and then after you were on Argos, I was so worried for you. And then after you got back, you were in isolation and I couldn't touch you, but I could still go into the observation room and see you. And then you went home today, and I guess I kind of needed to come see you and make sure you were still okay. I mean, I know you're fine, and Janet cleared you, and everything, but I needed the reassurance of actually seeing you. I was just ..." Her words trailed off, and she looked to the side, blinking back tears.
Jack studied her for a few seconds. He put his beer down on the coffee table. "C'mere," he said, reaching out and drawing her against his shoulder. She sighed, snuggling in, and he sat back against the back of the couch. She toed off her slippers and curled up against him. He rubbed her back slowly, luxuriating in the feel of her against him. At twenty, he would never have believed how great just holding a woman could be, no sex involved, just solid human contact. Twenty year olds were idiots.
"Thank you, Jack." Sam adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. "This is exactly what I needed, right now."
"All part of the service." And if she'd rather be held than talk about ... what he thought she wanted to talk about, he was all for that.
After about twenty minutes, she stirred. "Jack?" she said.
"Yeah?" He tensed slightly, dreading what might be coming.
It didn't go unnoticed. She began rubbing his chest slightly. "I know you've had a hard life, a hard career. With that long in special operations, you've probably seen a lot of horrible stuff, done some of it to others and had it done to you. Whether or not you tell me about it, and how much you tell me, is up to you. But if you keep me in the dark, I'm always going to wonder. I know a lot of it is classified, but you know my security clearances are very high. I'm not going to drown you in sympathy or anything, I just want to know. I need to know."
Jack gave a light nod, staring off at the wall across from him. God, this was one conversation he did not want to have. If he told her what she wanted to know, he would open up a whole can of worms in their relationship. On the other hand, his slip the day he'd been brought back had already opened it up, at least partly. If he wanted to keep her happy, he had to tell her something. And he had no doubt that her fertile scientist brain had come up with worst-case scenarios way worse than anything that had actually happened to him. In the end, it came down to one question: did he trust her enough to reveal that much of himself? He'd only known her for a few months, after all. Granted, they'd been an intense few months, but he'd known Sara for years and had never told her what Carter wanted to know. And look where it had gotten him. He leaned forward to grab his beer again. For this conversation, he thought he'd need it. "Okay."
The first thing Sam noticed, the next morning, was that she had a crick in her neck from sleeping funny. That somewhat confusing thought brought her to full awareness when it led to a memory of exactly where she'd been when she fell asleep-on Jack's couch. Well, on Jack, actually. And, from the rather lumpy, warm mass underneath her, that's where they'd stayed. All night, judging from the amount of light leaking in through her closed eyelids. Suppressing the urge to just burrow in deeper and go back to sleep, Sam yawned and opened her eyes.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Jack said with a grin. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well, thanks," Sam said, returning his smile. She checked her watch. "Oh, my God, it's almost nine! I never sleep in this late!"
"Not even on Saturdays?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. "Which this is, I might add."
"Not even Saturdays," Sam confirmed. She thought about getting up, but aside from her neck, she was too comfortable. "Weekdays I'm up at 0530, so sleeping in till 0700 feels like a real indulgence. Usually I get up and jog or go to the gym, or something, on a Saturday morning. Although, since transferring to the SGC I seem to be working more weekends than not."
"Well, you must really have needed the extra sleep, then."
"Yeah," Sam said with another yawn. "I really haven't slept much the last two or three weeks." Which worked out to 'since Jack left for Argos,' and judging by the way he tensed under her, ever so slightly, he had made the same connection. If she'd been more awake, she probably wouldn't have put it like that ... "How did you sleep?"
"Pretty well," Jack said, and it might have been more convincing if he hadn't had bags under his eyes and yawned right in the middle of saying it.
"Jack?" She frowned suspiciously at him.
"What?" he said, trying to pull off an innocent face. It didn't work, and she frowned at him until he caved. "Okay, I didn't get much sleep."
He tried to shrug it off as if it was nothing, but Sam wasn't buying it. "You know, if I was too heavy or uncomfortable, you could have gone to your own bed and left me here with a pillow and blanket," she pointed out, hoping it was just her that had kept him up. He'd told her about some very unpleasant things in his past, and though he'd only sketched the outlines of most of them, she hated to think that telling her about them had stirred up nightmares.
"Nah," Jack said with a wave. "It was my pleasure. Besides," he said with a wink and a playful leer, "my Mom always said that when a gentleman sleeps with a woman, he wakes up with her the next morning."
"She said that, did she," Sam said with raised eyebrows. That was ... awfully liberated for a Catholic wife and mother from his parents' generation.
"Well, no, not exactly," Jack admitted. "There ... may have been something in there about going to Hell for sleeping with a girl outside of Holy Matrimony ... but I don't remember any etiquette lessons for what to do afterwards." He frowned, theatrically. "I'm pretty sure there was something in there about going to Hell for getting a girl pregnant and not marrying her. I think."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "And yet, I am unmoved." She gave him a smirk. "Seriously, though, I wouldn't have minded."
"Seriously, though," he said, mimicking her tone, "I didn't mind." He glanced out across his living room. "Besides, I got a little too much sleep in the last couple weeks, y'know?" He shook his head and smiled at her. "But now that you're awake, I have to go answer the call of nature." He brushed a kiss on her forehead and she sat up, wincing a little as she stretched.
"I guess I'll head out then," Sam said, slightly disappointed but not wanting to show it. "See you tonight at O'Malley's?"
"You betcha," O'Neill confirmed with a grin.
Jack watched her pull out of his driveway, then returned to a house that suddenly seemed much emptier. He leaned back against the door and listened to the stillness, for a while. Damn, he'd forgotten how nice human contact could be when it wasn't strictly work related or a 'one-of-the-guys' thing. Okay, his sloppy sentimental side was showing, but he'd loved just holding her all night, and watching her sleep, despite the fact that his couch wasn't the most comfortable of places to sleep and at his age, you noticed these things. In fact, he wanted to do it again tonight, though maybe in a real bed this time. And the night after that, and the night after that ...
Jack shook his head at himself. Man, he had it bad. Not that that was a bad thing, but if he wanted to be cool and avoid making a total ass of himself, it was something to keep in mind. Wanting to spend hours holding a girl in your arms, no hanky-panky needed, indicated a little more than just your average garden-variety lust. Although, he certainly wouldn't turn down any hanky-panky if it was offered; he shook his head. Only a couple three or four months along, Sam wasn't showing yet, but her normally very nice figure had ... blossomed. Become more lush. In ways his body had found very interesting in the wee hours of the morning with her wiggling on top of him to find a more comfortable sleeping position. He was glad she'd been lying the way she had when she woke up; that had not been his sidearm, standing at attention. But he didn't think she'd noticed it. Hopefully not. Sex-starved was not the way he wanted to come off. He shook his head again and headed towards the bathroom, peeling off yesterday's clothes as he went.
Sam glanced at the clock as she towelled her hair dry. Noon. Since leaving Jack's place, she'd gotten in her run, had lunch, and taken a shower. Running was such a great way to process things, and she'd had a lot to process. Sam wasn't all that cuddly a girl, normally, but last night had been great. Just the snuggling and waking up together would've been fine, as stressed out and worried for him as she'd been lately. Actually talking with Jack, seriously, about his past? That had been a lot of things. In some parts it'd been disturbing; to use his own words there was some 'damned distasteful things' there. Some parts of it had been funny, others sad or tragic. The man had seen and done a lot of things in a life and career that spanned the globe and now the galaxy. Much of it had made her uncomfortable. But she was glad she knew it. Janet was right; he had issues. But now that she knew what they were, she could deal with them, she thought. It was the not knowing that had been the killer.
What to do with the rest of the day? She didn't have any projects that particularly needed attention at work, and she wasn't really feeling social. Last night was just the sort of thing Janet would love to hear about, but her rapport with Jack was a bit too new and fragile for Sam to want to parade it around. Was there anything that needed to be done around here? She was pretty much unpacked; she probably needed to do some laundry. Getting a load started, she wandered around her apartment with a critical eye.
Definitely not a place for a kid. Besides the single bedroom, there wasn't much of a lawn, and there were no parks nearby. Maybe she should start looking for a new apartment now, so she could be moved and settled in before the baby came. That would make the most sense; it'd be easier, and it meant that all the baby stuff she'd need to get wouldn't have to be moved. Which brought up another issue: what baby stuff would she need? Sam hung the towel up on the rack and wandered out to the kitchen, where she got out a pencil and paper.
Crib, car seat, childproofing stuff, clothes ... what else did babies need? Sam wished she had more friends with kids, well, any friends with kids. Never having been around babies much, she had no idea what she was getting into. She rubbed her forehead. Maybe she could get some advice from Mark when she told him. That was one of the few things he had in common with Dad-they both liked to give advice. Which brought up the fact that she hadn't told them, yet. It was only going to get harder, she knew that, but it was an issue that she could procrastinate over for at least another day. Back to baby stuff.
She needed to do some research, was what she needed to do. Sam decided to hit the library later that day to look over their childcare section. And any pregnancy books they might have. Going to browse through baby stores would be a good idea too, but Jack would be upset if she did that without him. She shook her head, amused that it hadn't occurred to her two minutes ago. Jack, being a parent, would already know a lot of stuff about babies. He'd been through this before. The library was still a good idea, and asking Mark's advice would help smooth things over with him, but Jack was the one she really needed to be talking with. He might like helping her look for a new place, too.
They could talk about all this tonight at O'Malley's. Okay, it wasn't very romantic or anything, but Sam was a practical girl, and a romantic evening out while so many issues needed to be dealt with would just bug her. And a steakhouse wasn't the most romantic place, anyway. So what exactly did they need to talk about? After the library, she'd have a better idea of what baby stuff needed discussion. That left the housing situation.
Did she want Jack's help on that? Well, yes. Apartment hunting wasn't much fun alone, and he might have opinions about what kind of place he wanted his child to live in. Sam bit her lip. She needed a list of criteria. Glancing down at the paper in front of her, she drew a line down the middle and started another list.
At least two bedrooms. Lawn or playground for the baby. Good, safe neighborhood. Near the mountain. Near Jack's house. Good kitchen. Affordable rent. Sam paused, unable to think of any other major criteria, and considered her list.
Jack watched, bemused, as Sam made a note on her list. Not that making lists was a bad thing, mind; it's just, he'd never seen anyone plot out their shopping with the precision of a military operation before. He'd also never seen anyone take briefing notes about babies, before. She turned back to the original page she'd brought in and checked something off.
"Y'know, maybe it's just me," he observed, "but I always thought that on a 'date' one ... dated. Flirting, footsy, yadda yadda." He waved his hand in the air vaguely.
"Really?" Sam looked up, eyebrow raised. She studied him for a second and Jack shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
"This is all great stuff," he said, nodding at the notes covering the table, "but do we have to do it now?" After their over night cuddle session he'd been kind of expecting something a little more ... intimate. Personal.
"Why Jack, I didn't know you wanted hearts and flowers," Sam said. She glanced around and gave him a little bit of a smirk. "I don't know how I could have missed it, in this romantic hot spot, after all our passionate rendezvous here."
Jack sat back and raised an eyebrow at the snarkiness that was worthy of, well, him. She didn't seem annoyed, though, just amused. "Why, Samantha, was that a hint?"
The smirk got a little wider. "Maybe."
"So, if I asked you out to something a little more ... intimate, like dancing or an opera or a fancy restaurant or a movie. Or maybe a couple of them together," he hastened to add as she eyed him. "Would you accept?"
"Maybe," she said again, cocking her head. "If you play your cards right." She watched him expectantly.
Jack opened his mouth, then realized he had no idea what to ask her. It'd been a while since he'd been out on a date with anyone besides Sara, and the only thing he was sure of was that he wanted their dates to be distinct from stuff he'd done with Sara. Maybe he should figure out what she'd like to do. Doc Frasier was her friend; he'd have to see about getting some inside information there. "I'll get back to you on that."
Sam studied him for a little bit before nodding and going back to her list. If Jack wasn't fooling himself, that looked like a hint of disappointment in her face. "The last thing is housing," she said. "I was wondering if you could help me out, here. My apartment is too small-only one bedroom-and there's not really any place for a child to play outside nearby. I'd like to be moved before the baby comes, because that'll be a lot less hassle than afterwards. I need a place with at least two bedrooms, a lawn or playground, a safe neighborhood, close to the mountain, near you ... " She trailed off and looked at him expectantly.
"Well, I can help you look for a new place," he said, hoping that was the answer she was looking for.
She tilted her head. "We could do that," she said, scrunching up her face. "Or ..."
He blinked a couple of times, like a deer in the headlights. "Or ... what?" he asked, after frantically wracking his brain to figure out what she was hinting at.
Sam leaned back, eyebrows raised in exasperation. "Or, I seem to recall that you have three bedrooms."
"That's true," he agreed. "Oh." He felt a grin stretching across his face. "And in which bedroom would you be sleeping?"
"That could be negotiated." She would have looked prim if it weren't for the twinkling of her eyes.
"I see," Jack said. He paused. "I thought you wanted to take things slow ...?" he said as delicately as he knew how. "Not that I think it's a bad idea, I'm just curious," he added.
"Well, Jack," Carter said in the same tones she used to explain scientific phenomena. "We are taking it slower than you wanted, if you remember. I wanted time to get to know you before making any big decisions. I have gotten to know you better, much better than I did when you asked me to marry you. Moving in together is the next logical step to seeing if we might be compatible for ...the step after that. If we can live together, that's great. If we drive each other nuts, it's best to find that out before making any legal changes that are hard to undo later." She shrugged. "Besides, like I said, I need to move before the baby comes anyway. Moving in with you saves time, energy, money ..."
"Body heat," Jack said with a playful leer.
"That, too," Sam said, returning it. She sobered a little bit. "Look, this is kind of a hard step for me." She looked down at her plate. "Jonas didn't ... change until after we'd moved in together. And you know how that turned out." Looking back up, she gave him a sad smile. "But I know you're not him, and I refuse to be ruled by my fears. And the one good thing about that whole mess is that it proved to me that if I get into a bad situation like that somehow, I can get myself out of it again."
Jack nodded, touched that she'd shared that with him. That whole issue had never occurred to him, and he wondered what other scars that nutcase had left her with. The man should be glad he was already dead. "So, moving party next Saturday? You, me, Daniel, Teal'c, Doc Frasier?"
"My lease isn't up for another eight months," Sam pointed out mildly, raising an eyebrow.
"It's called subletting, Sam," Jack said. "I don't see any point in putting it off, do you? I mean, once the decision's been ... made?" He raised an eyebrow back at her.
"I guess not."
"Perfect!" Jack rubbed his hands together. "So, it's a date?"
Sam smiled at him. "It's a date."
AN1: You may note that I have recycled a great deal of dialogue from the episode "Brief Candle," although not all of it happens in the same scene or even (sometimes) is said by the same person. This was made ever so much easier by the archive of episode transcripts at http://www.moon-catchin.net/gatenoise/index.htm, which were made by the Sg1 Transcript group on Yahoogroups. They have all my thanks for their excellent work.
AN2: Carter and religion. Her dog tags state that she is a Roman Catholic. In an interview at Gateworld, Amanda Tapping says that Carter may not go to church every Sunday, but still has a deep faith and prays regularly. I have ignored the RC thing, but kept the faith aspects; in this fic, she's an Episcopalian (that's Anglican for you Brits out there). After all, Episcopalian is, barring Lutheranism, as close to Catholic as you can get and still be a Protestant, and I figured Jack was probably at least nominally Catholic, if he was anything at all.
AN3: Jack has a line towards the end of the fic: "I knew it. All docs are vampires." This line was taken almost directly out of a Star Trek novel I read as a teen; the novel was titled "Uhura's Song," but I don't remember who wrote it. I have since been told that the line originally comes from the episode "The Deadly Years," which I have never seen to the best of my knowledge, so I'll have to take that one on faith.
AN4: Thanks to the Department of Health and Human Services website for the specific information regarding date-rape drugs. http://www.4woman.gov/faq/rohypnol.htm. Yes, I know that Jack gets over his rape very easily in this story. The actual episode "Brief Candle" doesn't even mention it as such, which it clearly is; my main problem with the episode-it ignores a very real issue that is integral to the plot. Jack is given the off-world equivalent of a date-rape drug, and from the resulting encounter he receives an STD. Yet, Jack shows no psychological symptoms of assault. He isn't even more irritable than normal!
Degrees of psych trauma (or at least visible symptoms thereof) can vary wildly depending on the circumstances of the rape and the psychological make-up of the victim. Jack has had a hard life (including being captured in an Iraqi POW camp, being tortured, etc.). Over the years (I assume), he has developed efficient coping mechanisms for a wide variety of traumas such as being tortured or (in this case) raped. In addition, Kynthia didn't mean to rape him, or coerce him in any way, and is quite contrite about the whole thing. That, combined with Jack's general avoidance of introspection, is my justification for getting him off as light as he is. I really didn't want to write a rape-fic and deal with those issues, but I couldn't just ignore the whole thing either.
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Date: 2006-05-16 06:06 pm (UTC)From:2. Carter and religion. I am very... very uncomfortable with it. Seeing her praying it's like... I don't know.
It is probably cultural. Once my sailing instructor (who was Switzerland French) asked me if I ever saw my parents naked. My reaction was: "Wha?.." But apparently it is normal for his culture that kids and parents, all naked, carry on their family activities if the weather is hot.
I think, some private things should stay private. She didn't pray on public, but I saw her... And I shouldn't see such things - they are not for my eyes to witness.
Another thing - Tapping is an actress, Carter is PhD. Christianity as philosophical system does not contradict the science (and I vote for every Christian virtue I ever heard of, prudence in particular), Christianity as a faith does. The very system of reasoning that is necessary for the faith is very different from scientific thinking. Here is a little example:
Definitions of Pantheism on the Web:
This is an identification of the universe with God. With this view there is a blurring of the distinction between the Creator and the creation as well as an attack upon the personality and nature of God. Pantheism tends to equate God with the process of the universe and states that the universe is God and God is the universe. This is not true because God is the creator of the universe (Isaiah 44:24) and therefore separate from it.
www.carm.net/dictionary/dic_p-r.htm
I do know the guy who has PhD in biology, and who says he is a believer, but I don't know how he does it - runs it on two separate servers? Our tech (RC) goes to Church every Sunday, but she never read Evangels (I hope it is a right word - that's the one we use). I asked her in what she actually believes if she didn't read them, and if I understood the answer correctly, she uses it as a moral code, not the faith. But she names it a faith.
3. About the rape - no alpha-male I ever knew would admit that he was raped by the woman. Or be upset if beautiful woman would go for all sorts of tricks to get him into bed. But may be I just met the wrong sort of alphas. Oh, Jack would be outraged, if couple guys would rape him, I'm sure.
Rape
Date: 2006-05-16 11:07 pm (UTC)From:Rape is having sex with someone without their consent. Whether that is achieved through physical force or chemical coercion is irrelevant; the gender of the victim and the rapist are also irrelevant. Rape is a violation of the victim's rights, body, and mind at the most basic level, and as such it is a great trauma to deal with. You are quite correct that most men who have been raped do not admit that that was what happened. That denial does not reduce/eliminate the trauma they have suffered; it just makes it more difficult to deal with. Society's views on the subject of gender and rape make that even worse.
i'm probably speaking out of turn, but...
Date: 2006-08-15 09:24 am (UTC)From:Furthermore, the website you cite strikes me as being extremely evangelical, and perhaps not the best nor most complete picture of christianity. There are any number of things I would point to as being slightly (or entirely) fallacious, but certainly the statement that Roman Catholics are not Christians (http://www.carm.org/catholic/saved.htm) ranks pretty high up there.
There are much more liberal views held by many other church groups and much less biased presentations of Christianity than the one you cite.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 03:53 pm (UTC)From:New Lives
Date: 2006-05-18 04:15 am (UTC)From:Re: New Lives
Date: 2006-05-18 04:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-08-15 09:27 am (UTC)From:Thanks for posting. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-15 03:42 pm (UTC)From: