Fic: And They All Lived...
In the last little while, I've started three SG-1 stories that were supposed to come out around novel length, but I keep getting stuck, bored and hugely out of character and it's making me crazy!
To try and cure writer's block, ADD and canon error all at once, I decided to indulge in some simple, shameless fluff and write snapshots from what could become a longer piece one day.
Hopefully this story entertains you and helps me get my SG-1 groove back!
Title: And They All Lived...
Genre: Romance, Shameless Fluff
Rating: K+
Spoilers: Major ones for "Singularity," but the story is set after Continuum, so there may be minor spoilers for other eps and both SG-1 movies
Disclaimer: Mine? No? Damn.
And They All Lived...
Daniel rapped lightly on the door before twisting the knob and pushing the light aluminum out of his way. The sight that greeted him was unexpected, but not unfamiliar.
“Déjà vu,” he murmured, smiling widely.
Sam looked up at the sound of his voice, the intrusion yanking her from her thoughts. “Hey,” she greeted quietly. She kept her voice low, mindful of the room’s other occupant, curled up fast asleep.
Keeping his own voice down, Daniel shut the door behind him and stepped further into the room. “I thought they were all spending the night in the infirmary.”
“They were,” Sam replied. Her fingers stroked gently through the mop of hair sprawled haphazardly across her lap. “She was having some pretty bad nightmares and it was starting to disturb the other kids, so I volunteered to watch her for the night.”
Daniel settled lightly on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the little girl currently sleeping with her head on Sam’s lap.
He watched as Sam continued to soothe the child they’d rescued from off-world earlier in the day. He wondered if she realized she was comforting the young girl just as she’d comforted Cassandra almost 12 years ago.
Déjà vu indeed.
The world they’d plucked the refugee children from hadn’t been pretty. A relatively minor Goa’uld had visited P7X 439 about two months ago, determined to make the planet the first conquest of his new empire. When the Morallans refused to accept his rule, he wiped out the adult population, leaving only the children alive. The Goa’uld appropriately named Mahes, the Egyptian Lord of the Massacre, had evidently figured that the children’s impressionable young minds would be easier to indoctrinate without the adults’ influence.
But according to the older children, Mahes had abandoned the planet not long after the slaughter and left the children to fend for themselves. The intervening weeks had been cruel to the survivors, whittling their number down from more than 100 souls to just 17.
Fortunately for the remaining Morallans, the UAV sent to explore the planet had crash landed. SG-1 had been sent to retrieve the downed equipment and happened across a small group of children out collecting water. Less than an hour later, after listening to the horrors the children had endured, the team were in agreement: the children were coming back to Earth with them.
It broke Daniel’s heart to be confronted with evidence that the Goa’uld were still roaming the galaxy, destroying lives and families, more than four years after the fall of the System Lords.
The shadows haunting Sam’s eyes warned that the knowledge wasn’t sitting well with her either.
“I can’t believe she was the only one having nightmares,” Daniel commented quietly.
“The other kids were pretty worn out after the trek to the gate,” she explained.
She was certainly better positioned than he was to know, having spent the better part of the day in the infirmary with the children, particularly the one curled up with her now.
“I guess we didn’t do her any favours by letting her sleep on the trip back to the gate,” Daniel said. Without conscious thought, he reached out and tucked a chocolate coloured curl behind the little girl’s ear.
“It was probably the first time she’s slept without nightmares in months,” Sam said morosely. “I don’t regret letting her have that.”
“No,” Daniel agreed. He squeezed Sam’s knee supportively. “Neither do I.”
She fell silent and shifted slightly, settling the little girl’s weight more comfortably on her thigh. Apparently there was nothing left to be said on the matter.
Except Daniel knew that there was, even if Sam didn’t want to talk about it.
“How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” she said dismissively.
That feeling of déjà vu was back. The scene, the words, hell even the room were all identical, and so was the look in her eyes.
Sam was falling in love with the little girl, just as she had with Cassandra.
And even though the situation with Cassandra had worked out well enough in the end, he couldn’t bear the thought of watching Sam suffer the pain of giving up another child she’d come to love. He remembered how hard it had been for her, sitting back and letting Cassie bond with Janet, hearing her slowly transition into calling the other woman “mom,” when she had craved that honour herself.
Twelve years later, twelve years older and no closer to having a child of her own, he imagined it would be even harder this time around.
“Sam…”
“I’m fine, Daniel. Really,” she assured. Then she offered him a warm smile and added, “But thanks for checking.”
Daniel felt his own lips quirking up with an answering smile. “Any time.”
He squeezed her knee again before withdrawing his hand and getting to his feet. “I’m ready to call it a night. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything before I turned in.”
“We’re fine.”
“Okay.” He shuffled backwards a few steps, inching towards the door. “Then goodnight, I guess.”
“Night,” Sam murmured. Her attention was already refocused on the sleeping child.
Daniel’s fingertips were just brushing the doorknob when he realized he’d forgotten something important. “Hey, did we ever find out her name?”
He’d tried to learn the children’s names off-world, but quite frankly, things had been too chaotic for him to remember them all.
Besides, the little girl had latched on to Sam right away, and Daniel had mainly concerned himself with learning the names of the children who’d made a point of running wild.
A warm smile spread across Sam’s face, warning just how attached she already was to the child. “Mara,” she murmured. “Her name is Mara.”
“That’s beautiful,” he said appreciatively, even as his mind began cataloguing the name’s linguistic roots.
Sam didn’t reply, too wrapped up in her silent contemplation of the girl.
Daniel allowed himself another moment to commit the scene to memory before slipping out into the corridor, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding building in his chest.
* * * *
“And they all lived…” Sam began, smiling.
“Happily ever after!” Mara finished cheerfully. She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down on Sam’s lap.
The little girl had only been introduced to Earth fairy tales three days ago, but she’d figured out the formula for beginning and ending stories quickly enough.
“Maybe you should be reading to me,” Sam teased. She squeezed the girl’s shoulders and planted a kiss on the crown of her head.
She’d given up any hope of staying detached days ago.
“No!” Mara twisted around and planted one hand on each of Sam’s cheeks, making sure she had the astrophysicist’s undivided attention. “Doctor Brightman says it’s a growed up’s job to read to kids!”
Apparently, Sam mused, she wasn’t the only one on base bonding with the children.
“She did? Well then maybe we should go find Doctor Brightman and ask her to read you the next story.”
“No, Sammie!” Mara cried, horrified at the thought. “I want you!”
Sam sighed theatrically, trying to silence the voice in her head that echoed the little girl’s sentiment. “All right, I suppose I can read you another story. But then, missy, it’ll be bed time!”
Mara squealed, delighted, and pressed a sloppy kiss to Sam’s cheek. Then she turned around again, ensuring she’d have the best possible view of the pictures, and made herself comfortable in Sam’s lap.
“Can we read Cinderella again? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“Cinderella it is.” Sam reached for the well-worn pop-up book and settled back against the pillows.
* * * *
Mara giggled but pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to silence the sound.
“What’s so funny, princess?” Cameron asked around a mouthful of apple pie.
Sam kicked him under the table and gave him a pointed look. She’d spent the last week teaching the little girl table manners. The least Cam could do was pretend his parents had made a similar effort.
Oblivious to the exchange, Mara shared a grin with Vala. It was hard to say who was more delighted to share the nickname with whom.
“Sammie’s mouth is blue like her Jiggle-o.”
Cam and Vala both snorted. Sam kicked him again and made a mental note to get back at Vala later.
“Jell-o, sweetie,” Daniel corrected patiently. He snuck a peak at the woman in question and saw that her tongue, teeth and even her lips were indeed tinted blue. “And you’re right,” he added, grinning. “It is funny.”
Sam mock glared at him as she smoothed a hand over the little girl’s dark curls. “Daniel and Vala’s teeth are orange and yours,“ - she emphasized with a gentle tug on one long curl - “are green. That’s pretty funny too.”
“Is that why Teal’c and Cameron don’t eat jiggle Jell-o? Cause they don’t want their teeth to turn funny colours?”
“Indeed.” Teal’c indulged the six year old with a wide smile.
Mara might have adopted Sam as her own, but, much to the girl’s delight, SG-1 was a packaged deal. By adopting one of them, she’d effectively claimed all five members as her own.
Not that Mara was complaining about the extra adults doting on her day in and day out.
“Sammie, do I really have monster teeth?” Mara demanded. Then she exaggeratedly bared her teeth for inspection.
“Super scary monster teeth,” Sam confirmed.
Satisfied, the little girl turned to face Vala, seated on her other side, and let loose her best monster growl.
“Eek!” Vala shrieked. Then she bared her own monster teeth and snarled back, launching a full-fledged monster war in the middle of the busy commissary.
“Children, play nice,” Daniel said dryly.
Both ‘children’ replied by sticking their tongues out at him.
“I’m not sure who’s being a bad influence on whom,” Sam noted.
One eyebrow crept pointedly up Teal’c’s forehead. “Nor am I.”
* * * *
“… And they all lived…”
“Happily ever after!” Mara finished, grinning. “Can we read it again, Sammie? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“We’ve got lots of other stories to read,” Sam reminded.
“But Cinderella is my favourite!”
That much had become abundantly clear in the last week and a half. They’d read Cinderella at least twice a day, every day, and sometimes Mara even conned a third or fourth read out of the other members of SG-1.
Sam was willing to do a lot to make the little girl happy, but if she had to hear Cinderella one more time…
“Do you want me to read you my favourite story?” Sam asked.
Mara’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes please!”
Sam grinned at the girl’s infectious enthusiasm. “Okay, but my favourite story is really, really long. We’ll read a bit every day, since it’s too long to read all at once.”
“Okay!”
Sam had been reluctant to do this, not wanting to start something with Mara that she wouldn’t be able to finish, but she really did want to share her favourite story with the little girl. It was selfish, but she hoped Mara would remember bonding over the story long after she’d left the SGC.
Sam reached for the paperback she’d had Daniel bring in a few days ago and made herself comfortable while Mara did the same. When the little girl was settled under her arm, nestled tight against her side, Sam opened the book and began to read.
“Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer’s wife…”
* * * *
Exhausted after spending the whole afternoon playing topside with the other children, Mara lay sprawled across Sam’s chest, dead to the world.
Giving up tonight’s story time as a lost cause, Sam closed the book and placed it back on the bedside table where it had taken up permanent residence. She stroked the dark brown curls, messy after hours of being tousled by the wind, and watched the small head rise and fall in time with her own breathing.
Two weeks after Mara and the other Morallan children first set foot on Earth, their futures were still uncertain. The IOA was divided, with half of its members demanding that the children be sent to live off-world with some of Earth’s allies while the rest were demanding the children be divvied up as equitably as possible and sent to live with families in all IOA member states.
It had been so much easier with Cassandra all those years ago, when they’d simply had to convince the president to grant a single genocide survivor sanctuary on their planet.
Today the decision was primarily political rather than moral and the IOA was more concerned with reaping benefits for themselves and their respective nations than acting in the children’s best interests.
Quite frankly, it was starting to piss Sam off.
Mara and the other children had already been through hell. What they needed now was stability, loving families and the chance to be kids.
She was this close to marching on Washington and saying as much to the IOA. The fact that Vala had confiscated her credit card two days ago wasn’t the only thing stopping Sam from making the trip, but it was currently the top reason on a rapidly dwindling list.
Deciding to let Mara stay with her for the night, Sam turned off the bedside lamp and got comfortable, letting the little girl’s even breathing soothe her mounting frustration.
* * * *
“‘I haven’t the heart to harm even a Witch,’ remarked the Tin Woodman; ‘but if you go, I certainly shall go with you’,” Sam read.
Mara stared at the page even though there were no pictures. The little girl was bright and, slowly, she was learning to read the words in her storybooks, but The Wizard of Oz was still a bit too advanced for her.
“Do they go?” She was breathless with anticipation.
A familiar voice answered before Sam could. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Mara’s head shot up, her tiny forehead crinkling in confusion over who would dare to interrupt story time.
Sam looked up too, grinning brightly. “Sir! What are you doing here?”
“Oh, this and that,” Jack answered nonchalantly. Then he patted his stomach and added, “Mostly I’m here because I missed commissary pie.”
Sam’s grin widened. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
Jack smiled back. “Likewise.”
Mara squirmed in her lap, not happy about the interruption or about having someone else swoop in and steal Sam’s attention. “Sammie?” she demanded more pointedly than any six year old should be capable of being.
“Sir, I’d like you to meet Mara.” Sam ran her fingers through the girl’s curls, smiling reassuringly at her.
“Hi, Mara.” Jack greeted warmly, using the soothing tone he reserved strictly for children. “My name is Jack. I’m a friend of Sam’s and I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If you’re a friend of Sammie’s, how come I haven’t seen you before?”
“Jack used to work here, honey,” Sam explained. “A few years ago he got a new job and he had to move away.”
Mara seemed to consider this briefly. Then her natural curiosity won out and she asked, “Do you have a beanstalk?”
Both adults chuckled at her hopeful tone. Interpreting Mara’s change in attitude as an invitation to join the pair, Jack took a seat across the table from Sam. “Sorry, kiddo. No beanstalk.”
Mara’s face fell, clearly disappointed.
“He has killed giants though, Mara.” Daniel injected himself into the conversation, dropping into the last vacant chair and setting his steaming mug down on the table. “You should get Jack to tell you a story about that before bed tonight.”
“Really?” Mara was hopeful again.
“Sure,” Daniel agreed before Jack could object. “Remember those stories about the times when Sam and Teal’c and I killed giants like Mahes? Well, Jack was there too.”
Normally he wouldn’t be bragging about killing, especially not to a child. But Morallan society had a different view of war and death than their own, and all the children had been raised on tales that would make the Grimm Brothers uneasy.
Besides, Mara, like the other children, seemed to take comfort in the fact that they were being cared for by people who had repeatedly gone up against the Goa’uld and won. It made them feel protected and reassured them that they were safe from Mahes.
Cultural arguments aside, it was more than enough to convince Daniel to share their experiences against the Goa’uld with such a young child.
And if the fact that Morallan lore had cast the Goa’uld as evil giants just happened to neatly tie into some of Earth’s children’s stories, then what was an anthropologist trying to reassure a terrified child to do?
Across the table, Mara’s clear blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Clearly Jack had just added his name to the list of adults the little girl had adopted since arriving on Earth.
“Jack, will you tell me a bedtime story tonight? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“What about the Wizard of Oz?” he asked.
Mara shrugged and replied with the earnestness only small children are able to muster. “Sammie usually tells me lots of stories at bedtime. You can take turns.”
Jack chuckled as Sam bowed her head, trying to hide the embarrassed blush staining her cheeks.
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * * *
“… And then Thor and I went fishing. He caught a trout this big,” - Jack held his hands about a foot apart - “ and I caught one this big!” He threw out his arms, holding his hands as far apart as he could.
Mara giggled at his obvious exaggeration. From the desk on the opposite side of the room, Sam snickered. Jack just grinned, pleased to have finally found an attentive audience for his fish tales.
“Then they all lived happily ever after?” the little girl asked hopefully.
Jack ruffled her unruly curls. Actually, they didn’t, but like most everything else about the story, he was willing to play fast and loose with the details.
“You guessed it, kiddo.”
“Jack, can we go fishing?”
Against his better judgment, Jack felt his heart melt a little. He’d always had a soft spot for kids, but Mara’s warm affection, despite all she’d been through, threatened to turn that soft spot into a big puddle of goo where his restraint had once resided.
He pretended not to notice how Sam tensed and stilled in her work, waiting to hear his answer.
“I don’t know, kiddo,” he replied honestly. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
Mara shrugged, unbothered by the non-committal answer and snuggled deeper into his side. “Okay.”
Giving up on the pretense of working, Sam turned in her chair and studied the pair curled up together on the bed. “Time for bed, Mara.”
“One more story?” she pleaded hopefully. Her gaze bounced back and forth between the two adults, hoping to sway at least one of them with her big blue eyes.
“Tomorrow,” Jack promised.
“We’ve got to get you to bed soon anyway, sweetie,” Sam reminded. “We don’t want to wake up the other kids, right?”
“No,” Mara said on a big sigh. “Reilly gets cranky when he gets woken up,” she added for Jack’s benefit.
“Well we certainly don’t want to deal with a cranky Reilly, now do we?” Jack said with mock seriousness.
Sam got to her feet and held out her arms, inviting the little girl to jump up. “C’mon, let’s go.”
The sleepy child disentangled herself from Jack, crawled across the bed and hopped into Sam’s embrace. Familiar with the nightly routine, she settled her head on Sam’s shoulder and snuggled as close as possible.
“Jack, will you come tuck me in too?” The sweet voice was muffled against Sam’s neck, but there was no mistaking the words.
“Sure,” he agreed. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, smiling at the two.
It was obvious the little girl adored Sam and only slightly less obvious that the feeling was mutual.
Jack ushered the pair out into the corridor, only half-listening as Mara kept up a steady stream of chatter. He recognized what she was trying to do. When he’d been her age, Charlie had done the same thing, talking a blue streak to keep himself awake, afraid of missing something if he gave in to sleep.
The trip to the children’s temporary quarters was quick, but it took Jack and Sam almost 20 minutes to extract themselves once Mara was tucked in.
The other eight children bunking with her coerced the two adults into joining other base personnel in performing an array of complex bedtime rituals, including a dramatic telling of one final bedtime story.
Countless hugs later, the children were finally tucked in their respective beds and the adults were creeping out into the corridor.
“Thanks for spending some time with her, sir,” Sam said quietly. Side by side, they headed for the nearest elevator, as synchronized as ever. “It gave me a chance to get some work done.”
“She’s a great kid,” Jack replied. The he conversationally added, “Daniel says you’ve been spending every spare moment with her.”
In reality, Daniel had been calling with increasing frequency, fretting over just how attached Sam was becoming to Mara and how hard it would be for her to give the little girl up once the IOA stopped politicking and made a decision about the children’s futures.
But Sam didn’t need to know that.
“MacKenzie wants base personnel to spend time with each child individually,” Sam reported with a shrug. “With so many running around, he thinks it’s important that they all get some one-on-one attention every day.”
“Isn’t he worried about what happens when the kids get placed with families off-base?”
“When, not if?” Sam observed.
Jack shoved his hands deep in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “The paperwork should cross the president’s desk first thing in the morning.”
“The IOA decided to let them stay?”
“Finally.”
“That’s fantastic, sir!” Sam sounded relieved, but she also sounded slightly disappointed.
“I think the photos Hank passed along went a long way towards changing their minds,” Jack said. “It’s hard to argue that a table full of ice cream coated kids is a threat to Earth. Sanity? Yes. Planetary security? Not so much.”
Sam smiled, but whether it was at the memory or at his reasoning, Jack couldn’t say.
“I know you like to be nearby in case she has nightmares,” Jack began carefully. “But I was hoping maybe we could head off-base for a while…”
For a fraction of a second, she looked tempted to refuse. But then her eyes roamed over his face, taking note of the tension lines he knew marred the skin around his eyes, and she offered him a soft smile.
“I’ll call Teal’c on the way to my place,” she conceded. “He can check on her tonight.”
He could hear reluctance lacing her tone and decided to double check. He didn’t want to pressure her into doing anything she would feel guilty about later. “Are you sure?”
Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she met his eye and said the words Jack had been waiting 65 and a half days - but who was counting? - to hear.
“Let’s go home.”
* * * *
Mara looked up only long enough to see who had dared interrupt story time. When Jack and Daniel strolled through the door, she beamed at them and waved, pleased to see two of her favourite people.
Sam beamed too, but she needed both hands to hold their book open, so there was no waving on her part.
“They walked through the forest until it became too dark to go any farther. Dorothy and Toto and the Lion lay down to sleep, while the Woodman and the Scarecrow kept watch over them as usual,” she read.
“Do the monkeys that fly come after them again?” Mara’s tiny forehead crinkled with worry.
“We’ll have to read some more tomorrow and find out,” Jack said.
“Tomorrow? But that’s so far away!”
“Maybe if you ask nicely, Sam will bring the book to breakfast tomorrow and we can find out then,” Daniel suggested helpfully.
“Please Sammie? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?” Mara pleaded. She twisted in the astrophysicist’s lap and looked up at her with hopeful blue eyes.
“Sure,” Sam agreed easily. “Daniel can read to us.”
“Yay!” Mara cheered. “Thank you, Daniel!”
Jack chuckled as his favourite archaeologist narrowed his eyes at their favourite astrophysicist.
“Can’t wait,” Daniel said dryly.
“Speaking of not waiting…” Jack said pointedly. He arched an eyebrow at the other man and cocked his head to one side.
Daniel nodded, apparently understanding, and returned his attention to Mara. “Sweetie, would it be all right if I tucked you in tonight?”
Mara frowned, deep in thought. “Will you tell me a bedtime story?”
“You mean another bedtime story,” Sam reminded. Her tone was light, feigning ease for Mara’s benefit, despite the worry suddenly shining from her eyes.
“Fine.” The little girl sighed theatrically. “Will you tell me another bedtime story?”
“You bet,” Daniel assured, smiling.
“Okay,” Mara acquiesced. It had only been two and a half weeks, but she’d already figured out she could always coerce extra stories from Daniel.
She’d also figured out how to wrangle piggyback rides from Teal’c, extra dessert from Jack, extended playtime with Vala, new toys from Cameron and all of the above from Sam.
Jack had to give the girl credit. She was a fast learner.
Mara gave tight hugs and sloppy kisses to both Sam and Jack before launching herself into Daniel’s waiting arms.
“Sweet dreams, kiddo,” Jack bid.
“Nighty night!” Mara replied. “Don’t forget to bring the book to breakfast, Sammie!”
“I won’t,” she promised. “Sleep tight.”
Bidding his friends good night, Daniel carried his armful of cuddly little girl out into the corridor. He made a point of closing the door behind them.
Before his footsteps had even faded down the hall, Sam asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jack assured.
“You and Daniel are a lot of things. Subtle is not one of them,” Sam reminded.
Jack sat beside her on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard. Sam immediately leaned into him and Jack curled an arm around her shoulders. Technically this was against the ground rules they’d established for themselves while on base, but this was a special occasion. He was willing to let the infraction slide if she was.
“Jack…”
“Mara adores you,” he said quietly.
“She’s a great kid,” Sam replied guardedly, unconsciously echoing the words he’d uttered on his first night back in Colorado Springs. “But,” she continued, “Daniel didn’t hustle her out of here so we could talk about how great she is.”
“No, he didn’t,” Jack agreed. He took a deep breath and forged ahead. “As I was saying, Mara adores you and you adore her and I adore both of you.”
“I know.”
“So I’ve been thinking…”
Sam grinned cheekily. “Uh oh.”
Jack poked her in the ribs playfully. He could do goofy. He was fine with goofy. It was serious that he was struggling with at the moment. But, there were serious things that needed to be said and the longer he waited, the less sure he was of how to approach said serious things.
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Jack, just spit it out already.”
“I want to adopt Mara.”
Sam turned her head and blinked up at him in surprise. “What?”
Jack adjusted his hold on her, giving himself a better view of her face, and tried to explain his reasoning.
Seeing as even he was having trouble unraveling how he’d reached this decision, it didn’t work. He settled for opening his mouth and letting words tumble out of their own accord.
“I’m only six months out from retirement and I was going to start cutting my hours back anyway. I’ll just cut back a bit more than I originally planned so I can spend nights and weekends with Mara. She can go to school in Washington for a few months and when I retire, she can change schools and we can move back here to be with you.
“After we get married, you can adopt her too and then we can be a family and get on with our lives and I think it could be really good, if we give it a chance.”
Jack realized he was rambling and bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop any more words from sneaking out.
Rather than frowning in confusion or pointing out the admittedly numerous flaws in his logic, Sam beamed up at him. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”
Jack blinked at her and mentally recapped the last thirty or so seconds. His eyes widened when he realized what had slipped out during his ramble. “I guess so,” he stuttered awkwardly.
“Did you mean it?”
This time Jack didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t when or how he’d intended to ask her, but it was what he wanted, what he’d been wanting for longer than he cared to admit, and he didn’t regret letting her know.
“Yeahsureyabetcha."
Grinning even more widely, Sam angled her head up and kissed him soundly. He was only too happy to return the favour, self-imposed rules regarding conduct on base be damned.
When they finally separated, Jack rested his forehead against hers. Looking her in the eye, he pressed, “Well?”
“Yes.”
“To how much?”
“All of it, if you’re sure this is what you want.”
Jack let his fingers tangle in her long, loose hair, his fingertips rubbing gentle patterns on her scalp. “Sam, I want this. You, Mara, all of it,” he assured. “It’s not 2.4 kids and a dog and all that American dream crap, but one kid is still pretty great and if you want, we can get the dog later.”
Sam smiled at him, but not as brightly as he might have expected, considering he was pretty sure they’d just gotten engaged and gotten themselves a kid all in one go.
“What?” Jack asked, worried.
“When you two walked in here tonight, Daniel already knew all of this, didn’t he?”
“No,” Jack assured. Then, unable to resist, he added, “I came up with the dog bit just now.”
Sam swatted his arm and kissed him soundly. Once again, he was only too happy to return the favour.
As the kiss ended, Sam murmured against his lips, “We’re really going to do this?”
“I hope so,” Jack said neutrally. “But if you need time to think about it…”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Jack grinned and settled her more fully against his chest. “Sweet!”
* * * *
“‘My darling child!’ she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and covering her face with kisses. ‘Where in the world did you come from’?”
“‘From the land of Oz,’ said Dorothy gravely. ‘And here is Toto too. And oh, Aunt Em! I’m so glad to be at home again!’ … The end.”
“That’s not how it ends,” Mara protested sleepily.
“Oh yeah?” Jack replied. He tugged gently at one of the dark chocolate curls fanned out across his right thigh. “Well then, Miss Smarty Pants, do tell. How does it end?”
“And they all lived happily ever after,” she said, smiling up at him. “That’s how every good story ends, right Mommy?”
Sam shut the book and rolled slightly to pillow her head more comfortably on Jack’s left thigh. She looked back and forth between her husband and her eight-year-old daughter, smiling gently.
Their lives weren’t perfect, but finally, after endless years of waiting, they had finally gotten their happily ever after.
Jack’s retirement wasn’t the clean break they’d hoped for and every few months, he had to leave Mara with Daniel or Cameron so he could hop on a plane and jump through hoops for the Washington bureaucrats.
Sam herself was away six months every year, commanding the George Hammond and taking mildly crazy chances, hoping with every fiber of her being that fate would continue to let her return to her family at the end of every deployment.
Mara still suffered from bouts of nightmares about the horrors Mahes inflicted on her planet, and occasionally she still woke up screaming in terror.
No, their lives weren’t perfect, but they were filled with love and warmth and moments like this one, when they all squished together on Mara’s twin bed to read the family’s careworn copy of The Wizard of Oz for the hundredth time.
It wasn't perfect, but it was everything they’d ever wanted.
Sam craned her neck to smile up at Jack. “Right, sweetheart. Every good story ends with happily ever after.”
Jack leaned over her, rubbing Toto the black lab’s head where it rested on Sam’s stomach. As he straightened up again, he stole a kiss from his wife.
“Yeahsureyabetcha,” he murmured against her lips.
To try and cure writer's block, ADD and canon error all at once, I decided to indulge in some simple, shameless fluff and write snapshots from what could become a longer piece one day.
Hopefully this story entertains you and helps me get my SG-1 groove back!
Title: And They All Lived...
Genre: Romance, Shameless Fluff
Rating: K+
Spoilers: Major ones for "Singularity," but the story is set after Continuum, so there may be minor spoilers for other eps and both SG-1 movies
Disclaimer: Mine? No? Damn.
And They All Lived...
Daniel rapped lightly on the door before twisting the knob and pushing the light aluminum out of his way. The sight that greeted him was unexpected, but not unfamiliar.
“Déjà vu,” he murmured, smiling widely.
Sam looked up at the sound of his voice, the intrusion yanking her from her thoughts. “Hey,” she greeted quietly. She kept her voice low, mindful of the room’s other occupant, curled up fast asleep.
Keeping his own voice down, Daniel shut the door behind him and stepped further into the room. “I thought they were all spending the night in the infirmary.”
“They were,” Sam replied. Her fingers stroked gently through the mop of hair sprawled haphazardly across her lap. “She was having some pretty bad nightmares and it was starting to disturb the other kids, so I volunteered to watch her for the night.”
Daniel settled lightly on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the little girl currently sleeping with her head on Sam’s lap.
He watched as Sam continued to soothe the child they’d rescued from off-world earlier in the day. He wondered if she realized she was comforting the young girl just as she’d comforted Cassandra almost 12 years ago.
Déjà vu indeed.
The world they’d plucked the refugee children from hadn’t been pretty. A relatively minor Goa’uld had visited P7X 439 about two months ago, determined to make the planet the first conquest of his new empire. When the Morallans refused to accept his rule, he wiped out the adult population, leaving only the children alive. The Goa’uld appropriately named Mahes, the Egyptian Lord of the Massacre, had evidently figured that the children’s impressionable young minds would be easier to indoctrinate without the adults’ influence.
But according to the older children, Mahes had abandoned the planet not long after the slaughter and left the children to fend for themselves. The intervening weeks had been cruel to the survivors, whittling their number down from more than 100 souls to just 17.
Fortunately for the remaining Morallans, the UAV sent to explore the planet had crash landed. SG-1 had been sent to retrieve the downed equipment and happened across a small group of children out collecting water. Less than an hour later, after listening to the horrors the children had endured, the team were in agreement: the children were coming back to Earth with them.
It broke Daniel’s heart to be confronted with evidence that the Goa’uld were still roaming the galaxy, destroying lives and families, more than four years after the fall of the System Lords.
The shadows haunting Sam’s eyes warned that the knowledge wasn’t sitting well with her either.
“I can’t believe she was the only one having nightmares,” Daniel commented quietly.
“The other kids were pretty worn out after the trek to the gate,” she explained.
She was certainly better positioned than he was to know, having spent the better part of the day in the infirmary with the children, particularly the one curled up with her now.
“I guess we didn’t do her any favours by letting her sleep on the trip back to the gate,” Daniel said. Without conscious thought, he reached out and tucked a chocolate coloured curl behind the little girl’s ear.
“It was probably the first time she’s slept without nightmares in months,” Sam said morosely. “I don’t regret letting her have that.”
“No,” Daniel agreed. He squeezed Sam’s knee supportively. “Neither do I.”
She fell silent and shifted slightly, settling the little girl’s weight more comfortably on her thigh. Apparently there was nothing left to be said on the matter.
Except Daniel knew that there was, even if Sam didn’t want to talk about it.
“How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” she said dismissively.
That feeling of déjà vu was back. The scene, the words, hell even the room were all identical, and so was the look in her eyes.
Sam was falling in love with the little girl, just as she had with Cassandra.
And even though the situation with Cassandra had worked out well enough in the end, he couldn’t bear the thought of watching Sam suffer the pain of giving up another child she’d come to love. He remembered how hard it had been for her, sitting back and letting Cassie bond with Janet, hearing her slowly transition into calling the other woman “mom,” when she had craved that honour herself.
Twelve years later, twelve years older and no closer to having a child of her own, he imagined it would be even harder this time around.
“Sam…”
“I’m fine, Daniel. Really,” she assured. Then she offered him a warm smile and added, “But thanks for checking.”
Daniel felt his own lips quirking up with an answering smile. “Any time.”
He squeezed her knee again before withdrawing his hand and getting to his feet. “I’m ready to call it a night. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything before I turned in.”
“We’re fine.”
“Okay.” He shuffled backwards a few steps, inching towards the door. “Then goodnight, I guess.”
“Night,” Sam murmured. Her attention was already refocused on the sleeping child.
Daniel’s fingertips were just brushing the doorknob when he realized he’d forgotten something important. “Hey, did we ever find out her name?”
He’d tried to learn the children’s names off-world, but quite frankly, things had been too chaotic for him to remember them all.
Besides, the little girl had latched on to Sam right away, and Daniel had mainly concerned himself with learning the names of the children who’d made a point of running wild.
A warm smile spread across Sam’s face, warning just how attached she already was to the child. “Mara,” she murmured. “Her name is Mara.”
“That’s beautiful,” he said appreciatively, even as his mind began cataloguing the name’s linguistic roots.
Sam didn’t reply, too wrapped up in her silent contemplation of the girl.
Daniel allowed himself another moment to commit the scene to memory before slipping out into the corridor, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding building in his chest.
* * * *
“And they all lived…” Sam began, smiling.
“Happily ever after!” Mara finished cheerfully. She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down on Sam’s lap.
The little girl had only been introduced to Earth fairy tales three days ago, but she’d figured out the formula for beginning and ending stories quickly enough.
“Maybe you should be reading to me,” Sam teased. She squeezed the girl’s shoulders and planted a kiss on the crown of her head.
She’d given up any hope of staying detached days ago.
“No!” Mara twisted around and planted one hand on each of Sam’s cheeks, making sure she had the astrophysicist’s undivided attention. “Doctor Brightman says it’s a growed up’s job to read to kids!”
Apparently, Sam mused, she wasn’t the only one on base bonding with the children.
“She did? Well then maybe we should go find Doctor Brightman and ask her to read you the next story.”
“No, Sammie!” Mara cried, horrified at the thought. “I want you!”
Sam sighed theatrically, trying to silence the voice in her head that echoed the little girl’s sentiment. “All right, I suppose I can read you another story. But then, missy, it’ll be bed time!”
Mara squealed, delighted, and pressed a sloppy kiss to Sam’s cheek. Then she turned around again, ensuring she’d have the best possible view of the pictures, and made herself comfortable in Sam’s lap.
“Can we read Cinderella again? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“Cinderella it is.” Sam reached for the well-worn pop-up book and settled back against the pillows.
* * * *
Mara giggled but pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to silence the sound.
“What’s so funny, princess?” Cameron asked around a mouthful of apple pie.
Sam kicked him under the table and gave him a pointed look. She’d spent the last week teaching the little girl table manners. The least Cam could do was pretend his parents had made a similar effort.
Oblivious to the exchange, Mara shared a grin with Vala. It was hard to say who was more delighted to share the nickname with whom.
“Sammie’s mouth is blue like her Jiggle-o.”
Cam and Vala both snorted. Sam kicked him again and made a mental note to get back at Vala later.
“Jell-o, sweetie,” Daniel corrected patiently. He snuck a peak at the woman in question and saw that her tongue, teeth and even her lips were indeed tinted blue. “And you’re right,” he added, grinning. “It is funny.”
Sam mock glared at him as she smoothed a hand over the little girl’s dark curls. “Daniel and Vala’s teeth are orange and yours,“ - she emphasized with a gentle tug on one long curl - “are green. That’s pretty funny too.”
“Is that why Teal’c and Cameron don’t eat jiggle Jell-o? Cause they don’t want their teeth to turn funny colours?”
“Indeed.” Teal’c indulged the six year old with a wide smile.
Mara might have adopted Sam as her own, but, much to the girl’s delight, SG-1 was a packaged deal. By adopting one of them, she’d effectively claimed all five members as her own.
Not that Mara was complaining about the extra adults doting on her day in and day out.
“Sammie, do I really have monster teeth?” Mara demanded. Then she exaggeratedly bared her teeth for inspection.
“Super scary monster teeth,” Sam confirmed.
Satisfied, the little girl turned to face Vala, seated on her other side, and let loose her best monster growl.
“Eek!” Vala shrieked. Then she bared her own monster teeth and snarled back, launching a full-fledged monster war in the middle of the busy commissary.
“Children, play nice,” Daniel said dryly.
Both ‘children’ replied by sticking their tongues out at him.
“I’m not sure who’s being a bad influence on whom,” Sam noted.
One eyebrow crept pointedly up Teal’c’s forehead. “Nor am I.”
* * * *
“… And they all lived…”
“Happily ever after!” Mara finished, grinning. “Can we read it again, Sammie? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“We’ve got lots of other stories to read,” Sam reminded.
“But Cinderella is my favourite!”
That much had become abundantly clear in the last week and a half. They’d read Cinderella at least twice a day, every day, and sometimes Mara even conned a third or fourth read out of the other members of SG-1.
Sam was willing to do a lot to make the little girl happy, but if she had to hear Cinderella one more time…
“Do you want me to read you my favourite story?” Sam asked.
Mara’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes please!”
Sam grinned at the girl’s infectious enthusiasm. “Okay, but my favourite story is really, really long. We’ll read a bit every day, since it’s too long to read all at once.”
“Okay!”
Sam had been reluctant to do this, not wanting to start something with Mara that she wouldn’t be able to finish, but she really did want to share her favourite story with the little girl. It was selfish, but she hoped Mara would remember bonding over the story long after she’d left the SGC.
Sam reached for the paperback she’d had Daniel bring in a few days ago and made herself comfortable while Mara did the same. When the little girl was settled under her arm, nestled tight against her side, Sam opened the book and began to read.
“Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer’s wife…”
* * * *
Exhausted after spending the whole afternoon playing topside with the other children, Mara lay sprawled across Sam’s chest, dead to the world.
Giving up tonight’s story time as a lost cause, Sam closed the book and placed it back on the bedside table where it had taken up permanent residence. She stroked the dark brown curls, messy after hours of being tousled by the wind, and watched the small head rise and fall in time with her own breathing.
Two weeks after Mara and the other Morallan children first set foot on Earth, their futures were still uncertain. The IOA was divided, with half of its members demanding that the children be sent to live off-world with some of Earth’s allies while the rest were demanding the children be divvied up as equitably as possible and sent to live with families in all IOA member states.
It had been so much easier with Cassandra all those years ago, when they’d simply had to convince the president to grant a single genocide survivor sanctuary on their planet.
Today the decision was primarily political rather than moral and the IOA was more concerned with reaping benefits for themselves and their respective nations than acting in the children’s best interests.
Quite frankly, it was starting to piss Sam off.
Mara and the other children had already been through hell. What they needed now was stability, loving families and the chance to be kids.
She was this close to marching on Washington and saying as much to the IOA. The fact that Vala had confiscated her credit card two days ago wasn’t the only thing stopping Sam from making the trip, but it was currently the top reason on a rapidly dwindling list.
Deciding to let Mara stay with her for the night, Sam turned off the bedside lamp and got comfortable, letting the little girl’s even breathing soothe her mounting frustration.
* * * *
“‘I haven’t the heart to harm even a Witch,’ remarked the Tin Woodman; ‘but if you go, I certainly shall go with you’,” Sam read.
Mara stared at the page even though there were no pictures. The little girl was bright and, slowly, she was learning to read the words in her storybooks, but The Wizard of Oz was still a bit too advanced for her.
“Do they go?” She was breathless with anticipation.
A familiar voice answered before Sam could. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Mara’s head shot up, her tiny forehead crinkling in confusion over who would dare to interrupt story time.
Sam looked up too, grinning brightly. “Sir! What are you doing here?”
“Oh, this and that,” Jack answered nonchalantly. Then he patted his stomach and added, “Mostly I’m here because I missed commissary pie.”
Sam’s grin widened. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
Jack smiled back. “Likewise.”
Mara squirmed in her lap, not happy about the interruption or about having someone else swoop in and steal Sam’s attention. “Sammie?” she demanded more pointedly than any six year old should be capable of being.
“Sir, I’d like you to meet Mara.” Sam ran her fingers through the girl’s curls, smiling reassuringly at her.
“Hi, Mara.” Jack greeted warmly, using the soothing tone he reserved strictly for children. “My name is Jack. I’m a friend of Sam’s and I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If you’re a friend of Sammie’s, how come I haven’t seen you before?”
“Jack used to work here, honey,” Sam explained. “A few years ago he got a new job and he had to move away.”
Mara seemed to consider this briefly. Then her natural curiosity won out and she asked, “Do you have a beanstalk?”
Both adults chuckled at her hopeful tone. Interpreting Mara’s change in attitude as an invitation to join the pair, Jack took a seat across the table from Sam. “Sorry, kiddo. No beanstalk.”
Mara’s face fell, clearly disappointed.
“He has killed giants though, Mara.” Daniel injected himself into the conversation, dropping into the last vacant chair and setting his steaming mug down on the table. “You should get Jack to tell you a story about that before bed tonight.”
“Really?” Mara was hopeful again.
“Sure,” Daniel agreed before Jack could object. “Remember those stories about the times when Sam and Teal’c and I killed giants like Mahes? Well, Jack was there too.”
Normally he wouldn’t be bragging about killing, especially not to a child. But Morallan society had a different view of war and death than their own, and all the children had been raised on tales that would make the Grimm Brothers uneasy.
Besides, Mara, like the other children, seemed to take comfort in the fact that they were being cared for by people who had repeatedly gone up against the Goa’uld and won. It made them feel protected and reassured them that they were safe from Mahes.
Cultural arguments aside, it was more than enough to convince Daniel to share their experiences against the Goa’uld with such a young child.
And if the fact that Morallan lore had cast the Goa’uld as evil giants just happened to neatly tie into some of Earth’s children’s stories, then what was an anthropologist trying to reassure a terrified child to do?
Across the table, Mara’s clear blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Clearly Jack had just added his name to the list of adults the little girl had adopted since arriving on Earth.
“Jack, will you tell me a bedtime story tonight? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“What about the Wizard of Oz?” he asked.
Mara shrugged and replied with the earnestness only small children are able to muster. “Sammie usually tells me lots of stories at bedtime. You can take turns.”
Jack chuckled as Sam bowed her head, trying to hide the embarrassed blush staining her cheeks.
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * * *
“… And then Thor and I went fishing. He caught a trout this big,” - Jack held his hands about a foot apart - “ and I caught one this big!” He threw out his arms, holding his hands as far apart as he could.
Mara giggled at his obvious exaggeration. From the desk on the opposite side of the room, Sam snickered. Jack just grinned, pleased to have finally found an attentive audience for his fish tales.
“Then they all lived happily ever after?” the little girl asked hopefully.
Jack ruffled her unruly curls. Actually, they didn’t, but like most everything else about the story, he was willing to play fast and loose with the details.
“You guessed it, kiddo.”
“Jack, can we go fishing?”
Against his better judgment, Jack felt his heart melt a little. He’d always had a soft spot for kids, but Mara’s warm affection, despite all she’d been through, threatened to turn that soft spot into a big puddle of goo where his restraint had once resided.
He pretended not to notice how Sam tensed and stilled in her work, waiting to hear his answer.
“I don’t know, kiddo,” he replied honestly. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
Mara shrugged, unbothered by the non-committal answer and snuggled deeper into his side. “Okay.”
Giving up on the pretense of working, Sam turned in her chair and studied the pair curled up together on the bed. “Time for bed, Mara.”
“One more story?” she pleaded hopefully. Her gaze bounced back and forth between the two adults, hoping to sway at least one of them with her big blue eyes.
“Tomorrow,” Jack promised.
“We’ve got to get you to bed soon anyway, sweetie,” Sam reminded. “We don’t want to wake up the other kids, right?”
“No,” Mara said on a big sigh. “Reilly gets cranky when he gets woken up,” she added for Jack’s benefit.
“Well we certainly don’t want to deal with a cranky Reilly, now do we?” Jack said with mock seriousness.
Sam got to her feet and held out her arms, inviting the little girl to jump up. “C’mon, let’s go.”
The sleepy child disentangled herself from Jack, crawled across the bed and hopped into Sam’s embrace. Familiar with the nightly routine, she settled her head on Sam’s shoulder and snuggled as close as possible.
“Jack, will you come tuck me in too?” The sweet voice was muffled against Sam’s neck, but there was no mistaking the words.
“Sure,” he agreed. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, smiling at the two.
It was obvious the little girl adored Sam and only slightly less obvious that the feeling was mutual.
Jack ushered the pair out into the corridor, only half-listening as Mara kept up a steady stream of chatter. He recognized what she was trying to do. When he’d been her age, Charlie had done the same thing, talking a blue streak to keep himself awake, afraid of missing something if he gave in to sleep.
The trip to the children’s temporary quarters was quick, but it took Jack and Sam almost 20 minutes to extract themselves once Mara was tucked in.
The other eight children bunking with her coerced the two adults into joining other base personnel in performing an array of complex bedtime rituals, including a dramatic telling of one final bedtime story.
Countless hugs later, the children were finally tucked in their respective beds and the adults were creeping out into the corridor.
“Thanks for spending some time with her, sir,” Sam said quietly. Side by side, they headed for the nearest elevator, as synchronized as ever. “It gave me a chance to get some work done.”
“She’s a great kid,” Jack replied. The he conversationally added, “Daniel says you’ve been spending every spare moment with her.”
In reality, Daniel had been calling with increasing frequency, fretting over just how attached Sam was becoming to Mara and how hard it would be for her to give the little girl up once the IOA stopped politicking and made a decision about the children’s futures.
But Sam didn’t need to know that.
“MacKenzie wants base personnel to spend time with each child individually,” Sam reported with a shrug. “With so many running around, he thinks it’s important that they all get some one-on-one attention every day.”
“Isn’t he worried about what happens when the kids get placed with families off-base?”
“When, not if?” Sam observed.
Jack shoved his hands deep in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “The paperwork should cross the president’s desk first thing in the morning.”
“The IOA decided to let them stay?”
“Finally.”
“That’s fantastic, sir!” Sam sounded relieved, but she also sounded slightly disappointed.
“I think the photos Hank passed along went a long way towards changing their minds,” Jack said. “It’s hard to argue that a table full of ice cream coated kids is a threat to Earth. Sanity? Yes. Planetary security? Not so much.”
Sam smiled, but whether it was at the memory or at his reasoning, Jack couldn’t say.
“I know you like to be nearby in case she has nightmares,” Jack began carefully. “But I was hoping maybe we could head off-base for a while…”
For a fraction of a second, she looked tempted to refuse. But then her eyes roamed over his face, taking note of the tension lines he knew marred the skin around his eyes, and she offered him a soft smile.
“I’ll call Teal’c on the way to my place,” she conceded. “He can check on her tonight.”
He could hear reluctance lacing her tone and decided to double check. He didn’t want to pressure her into doing anything she would feel guilty about later. “Are you sure?”
Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she met his eye and said the words Jack had been waiting 65 and a half days - but who was counting? - to hear.
“Let’s go home.”
* * * *
Mara looked up only long enough to see who had dared interrupt story time. When Jack and Daniel strolled through the door, she beamed at them and waved, pleased to see two of her favourite people.
Sam beamed too, but she needed both hands to hold their book open, so there was no waving on her part.
“They walked through the forest until it became too dark to go any farther. Dorothy and Toto and the Lion lay down to sleep, while the Woodman and the Scarecrow kept watch over them as usual,” she read.
“Do the monkeys that fly come after them again?” Mara’s tiny forehead crinkled with worry.
“We’ll have to read some more tomorrow and find out,” Jack said.
“Tomorrow? But that’s so far away!”
“Maybe if you ask nicely, Sam will bring the book to breakfast tomorrow and we can find out then,” Daniel suggested helpfully.
“Please Sammie? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?” Mara pleaded. She twisted in the astrophysicist’s lap and looked up at her with hopeful blue eyes.
“Sure,” Sam agreed easily. “Daniel can read to us.”
“Yay!” Mara cheered. “Thank you, Daniel!”
Jack chuckled as his favourite archaeologist narrowed his eyes at their favourite astrophysicist.
“Can’t wait,” Daniel said dryly.
“Speaking of not waiting…” Jack said pointedly. He arched an eyebrow at the other man and cocked his head to one side.
Daniel nodded, apparently understanding, and returned his attention to Mara. “Sweetie, would it be all right if I tucked you in tonight?”
Mara frowned, deep in thought. “Will you tell me a bedtime story?”
“You mean another bedtime story,” Sam reminded. Her tone was light, feigning ease for Mara’s benefit, despite the worry suddenly shining from her eyes.
“Fine.” The little girl sighed theatrically. “Will you tell me another bedtime story?”
“You bet,” Daniel assured, smiling.
“Okay,” Mara acquiesced. It had only been two and a half weeks, but she’d already figured out she could always coerce extra stories from Daniel.
She’d also figured out how to wrangle piggyback rides from Teal’c, extra dessert from Jack, extended playtime with Vala, new toys from Cameron and all of the above from Sam.
Jack had to give the girl credit. She was a fast learner.
Mara gave tight hugs and sloppy kisses to both Sam and Jack before launching herself into Daniel’s waiting arms.
“Sweet dreams, kiddo,” Jack bid.
“Nighty night!” Mara replied. “Don’t forget to bring the book to breakfast, Sammie!”
“I won’t,” she promised. “Sleep tight.”
Bidding his friends good night, Daniel carried his armful of cuddly little girl out into the corridor. He made a point of closing the door behind them.
Before his footsteps had even faded down the hall, Sam asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jack assured.
“You and Daniel are a lot of things. Subtle is not one of them,” Sam reminded.
Jack sat beside her on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard. Sam immediately leaned into him and Jack curled an arm around her shoulders. Technically this was against the ground rules they’d established for themselves while on base, but this was a special occasion. He was willing to let the infraction slide if she was.
“Jack…”
“Mara adores you,” he said quietly.
“She’s a great kid,” Sam replied guardedly, unconsciously echoing the words he’d uttered on his first night back in Colorado Springs. “But,” she continued, “Daniel didn’t hustle her out of here so we could talk about how great she is.”
“No, he didn’t,” Jack agreed. He took a deep breath and forged ahead. “As I was saying, Mara adores you and you adore her and I adore both of you.”
“I know.”
“So I’ve been thinking…”
Sam grinned cheekily. “Uh oh.”
Jack poked her in the ribs playfully. He could do goofy. He was fine with goofy. It was serious that he was struggling with at the moment. But, there were serious things that needed to be said and the longer he waited, the less sure he was of how to approach said serious things.
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Jack, just spit it out already.”
“I want to adopt Mara.”
Sam turned her head and blinked up at him in surprise. “What?”
Jack adjusted his hold on her, giving himself a better view of her face, and tried to explain his reasoning.
Seeing as even he was having trouble unraveling how he’d reached this decision, it didn’t work. He settled for opening his mouth and letting words tumble out of their own accord.
“I’m only six months out from retirement and I was going to start cutting my hours back anyway. I’ll just cut back a bit more than I originally planned so I can spend nights and weekends with Mara. She can go to school in Washington for a few months and when I retire, she can change schools and we can move back here to be with you.
“After we get married, you can adopt her too and then we can be a family and get on with our lives and I think it could be really good, if we give it a chance.”
Jack realized he was rambling and bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop any more words from sneaking out.
Rather than frowning in confusion or pointing out the admittedly numerous flaws in his logic, Sam beamed up at him. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”
Jack blinked at her and mentally recapped the last thirty or so seconds. His eyes widened when he realized what had slipped out during his ramble. “I guess so,” he stuttered awkwardly.
“Did you mean it?”
This time Jack didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t when or how he’d intended to ask her, but it was what he wanted, what he’d been wanting for longer than he cared to admit, and he didn’t regret letting her know.
“Yeahsureyabetcha."
Grinning even more widely, Sam angled her head up and kissed him soundly. He was only too happy to return the favour, self-imposed rules regarding conduct on base be damned.
When they finally separated, Jack rested his forehead against hers. Looking her in the eye, he pressed, “Well?”
“Yes.”
“To how much?”
“All of it, if you’re sure this is what you want.”
Jack let his fingers tangle in her long, loose hair, his fingertips rubbing gentle patterns on her scalp. “Sam, I want this. You, Mara, all of it,” he assured. “It’s not 2.4 kids and a dog and all that American dream crap, but one kid is still pretty great and if you want, we can get the dog later.”
Sam smiled at him, but not as brightly as he might have expected, considering he was pretty sure they’d just gotten engaged and gotten themselves a kid all in one go.
“What?” Jack asked, worried.
“When you two walked in here tonight, Daniel already knew all of this, didn’t he?”
“No,” Jack assured. Then, unable to resist, he added, “I came up with the dog bit just now.”
Sam swatted his arm and kissed him soundly. Once again, he was only too happy to return the favour.
As the kiss ended, Sam murmured against his lips, “We’re really going to do this?”
“I hope so,” Jack said neutrally. “But if you need time to think about it…”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Jack grinned and settled her more fully against his chest. “Sweet!”
* * * *
“‘My darling child!’ she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and covering her face with kisses. ‘Where in the world did you come from’?”
“‘From the land of Oz,’ said Dorothy gravely. ‘And here is Toto too. And oh, Aunt Em! I’m so glad to be at home again!’ … The end.”
“That’s not how it ends,” Mara protested sleepily.
“Oh yeah?” Jack replied. He tugged gently at one of the dark chocolate curls fanned out across his right thigh. “Well then, Miss Smarty Pants, do tell. How does it end?”
“And they all lived happily ever after,” she said, smiling up at him. “That’s how every good story ends, right Mommy?”
Sam shut the book and rolled slightly to pillow her head more comfortably on Jack’s left thigh. She looked back and forth between her husband and her eight-year-old daughter, smiling gently.
Their lives weren’t perfect, but finally, after endless years of waiting, they had finally gotten their happily ever after.
Jack’s retirement wasn’t the clean break they’d hoped for and every few months, he had to leave Mara with Daniel or Cameron so he could hop on a plane and jump through hoops for the Washington bureaucrats.
Sam herself was away six months every year, commanding the George Hammond and taking mildly crazy chances, hoping with every fiber of her being that fate would continue to let her return to her family at the end of every deployment.
Mara still suffered from bouts of nightmares about the horrors Mahes inflicted on her planet, and occasionally she still woke up screaming in terror.
No, their lives weren’t perfect, but they were filled with love and warmth and moments like this one, when they all squished together on Mara’s twin bed to read the family’s careworn copy of The Wizard of Oz for the hundredth time.
It wasn't perfect, but it was everything they’d ever wanted.
Sam craned her neck to smile up at Jack. “Right, sweetheart. Every good story ends with happily ever after.”
Jack leaned over her, rubbing Toto the black lab’s head where it rested on Sam’s stomach. As he straightened up again, he stole a kiss from his wife.
“Yeahsureyabetcha,” he murmured against her lips.