Fic: Once
Title: Once
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Prompt: angsty, hurt/comfort, first time
Word Count: 1,411
Rating: PG
Beta: hope_tang
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate and will never make a dime from this; I wouldn't even want to. I just love these characters enough to want more of them.
Author's note: Post-Beneath the Surface, written for txduck for this year's sj_everyday Secret Santa exchange. Hope you enjoy this!
Sam sat on her back patio, indifferent to the late afternoon chill. She couldn’t seem to breathe in enough fresh air after their stay on P3R-118. She felt as though they’d spent half a lifetime in that underground prison. She was sure they’d been told during the debriefing how long it had actually been, but she couldn’t seem to remember. Or care.
She’d wanted to get immediately back into the field after their return, to push Thera out of her mind with the reality of Sam Carter’s life, but Janet and General Hammond had insisted on at least a week of downtime for SG-1, most likely more.
So here she was, ordered to rest and recover, alone in her silent house. She missed the rumbling of the generators, the hiss of steam through the pipes, the constant hum of voices, and even the uncomplicated sense of purpose, though that purpose had been a lie. It wasn’t that she’d ever want to go back to that lie - serving on SG-1 was the most important thing she could possibly do, and she loved her job fiercely, but with it came choices and sacrifices that Thera had never dreamed of. Which dragged her thoughts back, yet again, to what she missed most of all. Or rather, whom.
Jonah both was and wasn’t Jack O’Neill. He was happier and more carefree than she’d ever seen her CO; Jonah hadn’t lived through the horrors that Jack had. But all the things that made her (hell, she might as well admit it to herself, at least) love him - those were the same in both men. Who were really the same man. Somehow, this made her head spin far more than it had when she’d encountered an alternate version of herself last year. That, at least, was science, and she understood it.
Thera and Jonah had kissed only once, during a rare moment alone in the shadows behind the generators in the dead of night. Far too soon, he’d heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps and they’d had to bolt, making their way silently through the maze of machinery back toward the sleeping quarters. They thought they’d have another night, a lifetime of other nights, but they hadn’t had even one more. The following day, they had discovered the truth and returned to Earth and the SGC.
Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from reliving the last moment they’d been alone, in Brenna’s quarters. She could still hear his determination and regret as he’d echoed her reluctant “Sir.” It had taken every ounce of willpower she could muster to face the fact that Sam Carter had to walk out of that room, had to turn her back on Thera’s life and everything she and Jonah could have been to each other.
She’d been able to bury that moment and the pain and confusion that went with it in the familiar demands of the mission and the long debriefing that followed, though she’d avoided meeting the Colonel’s eyes. But alone in her house, it was infinitely harder to hide from those memories, from the made-up life which still felt just as real as the one she’d lived for the last 32 years.
And as awful as this was for her, it had to be worse for him. Jack had a lot more to forget than she did, and when reality crashed down upon them...well, she felt terrible enough for all that she’d forgotten; she could only imagine how much worse his guilt would be. She also knew he’d never admit it.
She wanted desperately to see him, even just for a few minutes, but she knew she couldn’t.
She wasn’t allowed to need him that way.
*
She didn’t notice as the afternoon turned to evening, but it was nearly dark when she heard a knock on the wooden fence that surrounded her backyard, the creak of the gate as the latch lifted. She stood, and there he was, with a would-be casual smile and a haunted look in his eyes. She hadn’t seen him for five days, and the aching familiarity of his face made her close her eyes and reach out to steady herself on the lawn chair.
“Hey, Carter,” he said, and she could tell by the very slight hint of resolve as he said her name that he’d practiced, determined not to call her ‘Thera.’ “I knocked out front and then figured you might be out here.”
She felt a sudden, overwhelming weariness. She simply did not have the energy for the well-practiced game of Colonel and Major they unfailingly played. And the fact that he was there...
“It’s not going to go away, is it?” she asked. She could hear the desperation and longing in her own voice. “They tried to erase us; they made us into different people, and it was still there.”
He sighed. “If the other universes are any indication...probably not.”
Sam was relieved that he hadn’t pretended not to know what she meant.
After a long pause, she said, “You probably shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s true,” he agreed, his voice even, but he made no move to go.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “I missed you.” Yeah, that was definitely not allowed, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret having said it.
“Me too.”
At a loss for what to say next, she asked, “Do you want some coffee?”
“Thanks, that’d be good.”
She led him into the house, half of her wondering what on Earth she was thinking and the other half knowing for certain.
*
The silence as they sat at her kitchen table, hands wrapped around mugs of black coffee, wasn’t awkward. They were far too used to avoiding this particular conversation. Besides saving the world from Goa’uld domination, not talking about their impossible relationship was what they did best.
But despite considerable past experience, Sam didn’t know if she could shut it all down again and go back to pretending that they were nothing more than CO and second-in-command. And that he was here in her kitchen, staring at her with an openness on his face that she hadn’t seen since she stood on the wrong side of a Goa’uld force shield, made her wonder if he was thinking the same thing. It gave her the courage to speak at last.
“What do we do now?”
He paused. “I don’t know.”
“Why did you come over?” She thought she knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it.
“I just…had to.”
Sam nodded, hearing all he’d left unsaid. “I wanted to see you too.”
After a long moment, he said, “Nothing’s really changed. We made the right choice, before.”
“I know,” she agreed. “Between us and the rest of the planet? There’s really no choice at all.”
“But it sucks.”
Sam laughed. “It sure does.”
He stood. “I should probably go.”
She nodded and stood also, following his lead out of long habit. “Probably.”
He reached over and took her hand in both of his, just for a second. With a sad half-smile, he said “Night, Carter,” and headed toward the door.
“Jack,” she called out, using his first name for the first time in several years. He turned back in surprise, and she took a deep breath before she continued, “What if, just this once?”
She could see the battle between duty and longing blaze in his eyes, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when he took a step back toward her.
“It’s a bad idea.”
“I know,” she said simply.
He took another step closer. “It might make things worse.”
“I know that, too.” She didn’t say I don’t care, but she could see that he understood.
Maybe someday they’d win the war and be able to think about a future beyond SG-1, but it was just as likely that it could last the rest of their lives and claim one or both of them along the way. They’d faced down certain death many times over the past four years and come out alive, but their luck might not hold forever. Sam had long since accepted that fact, and she knew he had too, but just this once she wanted to forget about the rest of the world, to stop thinking and simply be. She wanted him, even if it could only happen once.
And so she closed the distance between them.
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Prompt: angsty, hurt/comfort, first time
Word Count: 1,411
Rating: PG
Beta: hope_tang
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate and will never make a dime from this; I wouldn't even want to. I just love these characters enough to want more of them.
Author's note: Post-Beneath the Surface, written for txduck for this year's sj_everyday Secret Santa exchange. Hope you enjoy this!
Sam sat on her back patio, indifferent to the late afternoon chill. She couldn’t seem to breathe in enough fresh air after their stay on P3R-118. She felt as though they’d spent half a lifetime in that underground prison. She was sure they’d been told during the debriefing how long it had actually been, but she couldn’t seem to remember. Or care.
She’d wanted to get immediately back into the field after their return, to push Thera out of her mind with the reality of Sam Carter’s life, but Janet and General Hammond had insisted on at least a week of downtime for SG-1, most likely more.
So here she was, ordered to rest and recover, alone in her silent house. She missed the rumbling of the generators, the hiss of steam through the pipes, the constant hum of voices, and even the uncomplicated sense of purpose, though that purpose had been a lie. It wasn’t that she’d ever want to go back to that lie - serving on SG-1 was the most important thing she could possibly do, and she loved her job fiercely, but with it came choices and sacrifices that Thera had never dreamed of. Which dragged her thoughts back, yet again, to what she missed most of all. Or rather, whom.
Jonah both was and wasn’t Jack O’Neill. He was happier and more carefree than she’d ever seen her CO; Jonah hadn’t lived through the horrors that Jack had. But all the things that made her (hell, she might as well admit it to herself, at least) love him - those were the same in both men. Who were really the same man. Somehow, this made her head spin far more than it had when she’d encountered an alternate version of herself last year. That, at least, was science, and she understood it.
Thera and Jonah had kissed only once, during a rare moment alone in the shadows behind the generators in the dead of night. Far too soon, he’d heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps and they’d had to bolt, making their way silently through the maze of machinery back toward the sleeping quarters. They thought they’d have another night, a lifetime of other nights, but they hadn’t had even one more. The following day, they had discovered the truth and returned to Earth and the SGC.
Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from reliving the last moment they’d been alone, in Brenna’s quarters. She could still hear his determination and regret as he’d echoed her reluctant “Sir.” It had taken every ounce of willpower she could muster to face the fact that Sam Carter had to walk out of that room, had to turn her back on Thera’s life and everything she and Jonah could have been to each other.
She’d been able to bury that moment and the pain and confusion that went with it in the familiar demands of the mission and the long debriefing that followed, though she’d avoided meeting the Colonel’s eyes. But alone in her house, it was infinitely harder to hide from those memories, from the made-up life which still felt just as real as the one she’d lived for the last 32 years.
And as awful as this was for her, it had to be worse for him. Jack had a lot more to forget than she did, and when reality crashed down upon them...well, she felt terrible enough for all that she’d forgotten; she could only imagine how much worse his guilt would be. She also knew he’d never admit it.
She wanted desperately to see him, even just for a few minutes, but she knew she couldn’t.
She wasn’t allowed to need him that way.
*
She didn’t notice as the afternoon turned to evening, but it was nearly dark when she heard a knock on the wooden fence that surrounded her backyard, the creak of the gate as the latch lifted. She stood, and there he was, with a would-be casual smile and a haunted look in his eyes. She hadn’t seen him for five days, and the aching familiarity of his face made her close her eyes and reach out to steady herself on the lawn chair.
“Hey, Carter,” he said, and she could tell by the very slight hint of resolve as he said her name that he’d practiced, determined not to call her ‘Thera.’ “I knocked out front and then figured you might be out here.”
She felt a sudden, overwhelming weariness. She simply did not have the energy for the well-practiced game of Colonel and Major they unfailingly played. And the fact that he was there...
“It’s not going to go away, is it?” she asked. She could hear the desperation and longing in her own voice. “They tried to erase us; they made us into different people, and it was still there.”
He sighed. “If the other universes are any indication...probably not.”
Sam was relieved that he hadn’t pretended not to know what she meant.
After a long pause, she said, “You probably shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s true,” he agreed, his voice even, but he made no move to go.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “I missed you.” Yeah, that was definitely not allowed, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret having said it.
“Me too.”
At a loss for what to say next, she asked, “Do you want some coffee?”
“Thanks, that’d be good.”
She led him into the house, half of her wondering what on Earth she was thinking and the other half knowing for certain.
*
The silence as they sat at her kitchen table, hands wrapped around mugs of black coffee, wasn’t awkward. They were far too used to avoiding this particular conversation. Besides saving the world from Goa’uld domination, not talking about their impossible relationship was what they did best.
But despite considerable past experience, Sam didn’t know if she could shut it all down again and go back to pretending that they were nothing more than CO and second-in-command. And that he was here in her kitchen, staring at her with an openness on his face that she hadn’t seen since she stood on the wrong side of a Goa’uld force shield, made her wonder if he was thinking the same thing. It gave her the courage to speak at last.
“What do we do now?”
He paused. “I don’t know.”
“Why did you come over?” She thought she knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it.
“I just…had to.”
Sam nodded, hearing all he’d left unsaid. “I wanted to see you too.”
After a long moment, he said, “Nothing’s really changed. We made the right choice, before.”
“I know,” she agreed. “Between us and the rest of the planet? There’s really no choice at all.”
“But it sucks.”
Sam laughed. “It sure does.”
He stood. “I should probably go.”
She nodded and stood also, following his lead out of long habit. “Probably.”
He reached over and took her hand in both of his, just for a second. With a sad half-smile, he said “Night, Carter,” and headed toward the door.
“Jack,” she called out, using his first name for the first time in several years. He turned back in surprise, and she took a deep breath before she continued, “What if, just this once?”
She could see the battle between duty and longing blaze in his eyes, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when he took a step back toward her.
“It’s a bad idea.”
“I know,” she said simply.
He took another step closer. “It might make things worse.”
“I know that, too.” She didn’t say I don’t care, but she could see that he understood.
Maybe someday they’d win the war and be able to think about a future beyond SG-1, but it was just as likely that it could last the rest of their lives and claim one or both of them along the way. They’d faced down certain death many times over the past four years and come out alive, but their luck might not hold forever. Sam had long since accepted that fact, and she knew he had too, but just this once she wanted to forget about the rest of the world, to stop thinking and simply be. She wanted him, even if it could only happen once.
And so she closed the distance between them.