Meetings
Chapter II
Disclaimer: I don't own either Stargate or the characters
The next morning when Mark awoke, it was to the smell of breakfast and sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Curious as to what all the commotion was about, he got up and made his way downstairs. When he looked into the room, all he could do was gape stupidly at the scene before him. Sam was sitting on the counter—covered in flour—giggling, and Jacob sat at the table drinking coffee, while Jack—also covered in flour—stood at the stove flipping pancakes and frying bacon. Half the kitchen was coated in a thick layer of white flour, making it obvious that Sam and Jack had gotten into a flour fight.
Mark couldn’t believe it; Jacob could have been furious if he himself had ever done something like that. Before he could say anything, Jacob spotted him lurking in the hallway.
“Good morning, Mark. Would you care for some pancakes?” He looked to the man standing at the stove. “Jack graciously volunteered for KP duty this morning, so all you have to do is grab a cup of coffee and join me at the table—or your sister on the counter—and breakfast will be ready shortly.” Jack muttered under his breath. “What was that, Jack?”
“Nothing, Sir. Pancakes should be finished in just a minute, how many would you care for?”
“Three please, Captain.” Jacob glanced at his son, “And the same for Mark.” Jack nodded to show he had heard and looked at Sam.
“And how many for the ghost sitting on the counter?” She hit him. “Ouch! I thought it was ‘kiss the cook,’ not ‘kill the cook!’” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he froze. “Er… that is… I mean—”
“I’ll have two, please,” Sam cut him off before he could dig himself any deeper. Then she hopped off the counter and ran up to her room to change out of her flour-covered pajamas. When she came back down, sans flour, Jack was putting plates on the table in front of Jacob and Mark.
“Do you want bacons, Sam?” She nodded and he handed her a plate and flatware. “Butter and syrup are on the table.”
As Jack was serving his own breakfast, Jacob eyed him critically. “Jack,” he started, “I forbid you from eating at the table unless you change out of those clothes first.” Jack glanced down and grinned sheepishly. Instead of answering the general, he just set down his plate, perched himself on the counter where Sam had been earlier, and picked up his plate again.
“Can some one pass me the syrup?” Sam and Mark had to stifle their laughs; the look on Jacob’s face was priceless.
When they were finished eating, Jack collected their dishes; he had to clean up the kitchen anyway, he might as well do the dishes while he was at it. Truthfully, the young officer didn’t mind doing some chores; he didn’t want to be a freeloader for the next two weeks. Besides, this might give him a chance to participate in his second favorite activity: people watching. By giving the Carters the chance to relax, he could catch a glimpse of how they interacted when they didn’t know they were being watched.
While Jack started to clean up the flour-covered kitchen, Jacob turned to his children and asked the timeless question, “What are you two going to do today?”
Mark’s answer was mumbled and unintelligible; something about hanging out with friends. Sam, however, fairly bubbled with excitement. “Nothing much this morning, but I’ve got classes this afternoon, Advanced Calculus and student teaching the Professor Cao’s Calc I class. I don’t really care so much for the student teaching, but my advisor suggested it to me for the credits.” She shrugged, “It’s alright, but I get some flak because of my age.”
Jack was surprised by his reaction when he heard Sam’s last statement. He found himself wanting to beat the crap out of those ill-mannered college preps for treating Sam badly. He wasn’t surprised by the fact that he was upset at people’s poor manners, that happened all the time, but by how strong his desire to protect Sam was. I’m just looking out for the daughter of a man who treats me as his son. There’s nothing wrong with that; I’m sure Mark has had the same reaction.
Jack was correct to some degree; Mark did want to protect his little sister from the jerks who ragged on her, but, unlike Jack, he didn’t feel the need to pull her into his arms and shield her from all the evils of the world.
Luckily for Jack, Jacob made a suggestion before he could open his mouth and say something he would probably regret thirty seconds later. “Want me to sic O’Neill on them? He can be pretty intimidating when he’s in the mood.”
“Dad!” Sam’s indignant shriek elicited a chuckle from her father.
“What about one of my other officers?” Sam just hit him on the shoulder. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then, shall I?”
“Dad,” Sam’s voice had switched from indignant and over-emotional to wise and calm, “please don’t do anything rash. I honestly don’t care if those guys can’t figure out that intelligence has nothing to do with age.” Her response made Jack pause a moment in his cleaning. Somehow he knew she was only being partially honest with her father; she didn’t care if they mocked her age, but it clearly bothered her that this prejudice was affecting their ability to learn the material from her.
Jack listened to the Carters—well, Jacob and Sam mainly, Mark barely participated—as he finished washing the dishes. After the kitchen was clean and all evidence of the earlier flour fight was gone—himself excluded—he made his way upstairs to change out of his dirty pajamas.
As Jack reentered the kitchen, Jacob turned to him and repeated the question he had asked his children, “So, Jack, what are you planning to do today?”
“I’m not sure, Sir. I don’t know the area or what there is to do around here and, as you kidnapped me from the base, I don’t really have a way to get around town.” Jack suddenly realized what he had said and to whom he had said it, and began stammering excuses. “Sir, I mean… err… well, I was not meaning to be disrespectful—”
“Oh, you yes you were, Jack.” Sam smirked at her father’s words. “You have every intention of being disrespectful—maybe not quite so blatantly—but disrespectful, nonetheless.” Jack’s mouth dropped open briefly before it morphed into a sheepish grin. “However,” Jacob continued, “you do have a valid point: I did basically kidnap you from base. Therefore, I have a solution for you also; in the garage is an old Triumph motorcycle, it hasn’t worked in years. If you can get it running again, it’s yours while you’re here. Sound fair?”
Jack nodded enthusiastically, “Yessir, very fair. I think I’ll spend the morning working on the bike.”
Sam thought for a moment, that might be a fun way to spend her morning before classes. “Would you like some help, Jack?”
He looked at her, “You know your way around an engine?” Jacob laughed.
“She took small engine repair and metal shop instead of home-ec in junior high; she’ll make sure you get that bike up and running.”
“Alright, but you might want to change into jeans and a junky t-shirt. I would hate for you to ruin your ‘cute’ clothes while helping me.”
Sam glanced down at her shorts and tank-top, Jack was right; they would get destroyed. “Give me five minutes; I’ll meet you in the garage.” With that, she jumped from her chair and dashed upstairs.
“So, Sir, where do you keep your tools?”
A few minutes later Jack and Sam were setting up a work station in the driveway. Tools were quickly piled around them and the engine was being pulled apart. As the pair worked, they made small talk. “So, Sam, ever been to a hockey game?”
“Yes, actually,” Jack looked at her in surprise. “What? Dad was stationed at Eielson in Alaska when I was little; there isn’t much else in the way of spectator sports.”
“Makes sense… you follow any teams here”?
“Yeah—pass me the 10mm socket? Thanks—the Canucks, but I’ll watch the Ranger games when nothing else is on.”
“The Rangers?! I’m afraid I can’t talk with you any more.” Jack’s self-imposed silence lasted all of about ten seconds, “Can you toss me the manual?” Sam looked at him in shock. “Just because I’m a guy doesn’t mean I don’t use manuals. Have you ever managed to rebuild a carburetor without the diagram?” As Sam opened her mouth to reply Jack cut her off, “Don’t answer that, Genius-girl, I really don’t want to know.
Sam snickered and went back to the engine part she was tinkering with. “If you’re so against the Rangers, who do you follow?”
“Red Wings. So, really, my conflict should be with the fact that you support the Canucks, but there’s just something about the Rangers that I don’t like.”
Sam nodded, “At least it’s not the Blackhawks, right?”
Jack shuddered, “Yeah, I would have to defy your father and go back to base if you were a Blackhawk fan.” The pair laughed and continued to work on the old bike’s engine.
Jacob watched them from the living room window; it was good to see Sam smiling again. Things had been better since she had gotten out of the high school, but they were still pretty bad. He was a little concerned about how quickly his daughter had taken to Jack O’Neill, but didn’t worry too much; he would only be here a short while, and then she would be leaving for the Air Force Academy. Even if they did end up becoming close friends, there was enough of an age difference that Jacob was fairly sure that he would only see her as a younger sister, and he would end up being a mentor to her. At least, that’s what I hope will happen.
After Jack and Sam had been out there for a few hours, they had managed to get the bike to start a couple of times, but they couldn’t get it to idle. Every time they tried to turn off the choke, the engine would sputter and die. Jack was checking the manual to see what the needle jets should be set at when Sam noticed the time.
“Shoot! I’ve got to get changed.”
Jack looked up from the book in his lap, “I thought your classes weren’t until this afternoon?” It was only 1100.
“Yeah, but I’ve got to pick some graduation stuff up from the high school,” she wiped her hands on a rag, “and if I want to get to campus on time I need to be on the 1235 bus.”
“How long does it take to drive from the high school to the U’s campus?”
“Not that long, maybe 15 minutes, but the bus route takes almost 50.”
Jack thought for a moment then got an idea. “How about you help me get this bike running—it should only take a few minutes—then I’ll give you a lift to the high school and the U?” Jack looked at her with large, puppy eyes, “Please?”
“And if we can’t get the bike working in time?”
Jack shrugged, “Then I explain the situation to your father, and that it was my fault completely, and beg him to let me borrow his car so I can drop you off.”
“And if you won’t let you borrow his car,” Sam said smirking.
“I’ll hotwire the neighbor’s, no biggie.”
Sam burst out laughing, “Alright, just a few more minutes.”
As it turned out, a few minutes and some minor adjustments were all that were needed to get the bike to idle properly. Jack and Sam grinned foolishly at each other before Jack pulled on a helmet so he could take the bike for a test ride. As he pulled out of the driveway, it sputtered slightly, but a few revs of the engine and it was fine again. Soon enough, Jack rode back down the street and into the driveway; there was a huge, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
“How’s she run?” Sam asked as he cut the engine.
“Perfectly. Thanks for helping me.”
“It was no trouble, I had fun.” Sam glanced at her watch, “We’ll need to leave in about 40 minutes so we can still stop by the high school.”
“I need to get some gas, so why don’t you go clean up and get ready while I do that, then when I get back you can get some lunch while I change.”
Sam nodded, “You know how to get to the gas station?” Jack shook his head. “Head right on the main street, take the second left, there will be one about three blocks up on the left or five blocks on the right. Got that?” Jack assured the young woman that he wouldn’t get lost and started the bike again. As she turned to go inside, he revved the engine and sped off down the street.
When Sam got inside, she found Jacob in the kitchen. “Where’s he off to?”
“Needed to get some gas for the bike.”
Jacob nodded then spotted the clock on the wall. “Shouldn’t you have left for campus by now?”
“Jack’s giving me a lift; we wanted to get the Triumph working before I left, so he offered to drive me.”
Jacob replied with a sigh and a slight shake of his head, which Sam took as reluctant acceptance and dashed upstairs to get cleaned up. Several minutes later, as Sam was stepping out of the shower, she heard the old motorcycle pull into the driveway and its engine shut off. Jack was home; he heart sped up a little before her mind could remind it that he was off limits. Sam heard his muffled greeting to her father and realized that she should probably get back to her room before he came upstairs.
Soon enough they were both clean and fed. Sam gathered what she needed for her classes that afternoon and they took off towards her old high school. When they arrived at the school, Sam indicated to Jack that he should just pull in front of the building. He cut the engine and Sam told him that she would only be gone a few minutes and he should just wait there with the bike.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come inside with you?” Jack asked, remembering what she had told him the night before.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” She tossed her helmet to him and opened the door. Sam hesitated briefly, then flashed Jack a shaky smile and stepped into the building.
While Jack was waiting he was leaning against the bike staring at his shoes. He sensed someone approaching, but didn’t look up from the pavement, figuring that he wouldn’t know the person. He was, therefore, surprised when they cleared their throat and said his name.
“Jon?” He glanced at the young girl standing in front of him. “That’s your name, right?” It was the girl from last night; Sam’s ex-friend, Eleanor or something. Jack eyed her before giving a short nod. She was slightly taken aback by his attitude, but didn’t allow it to stop her. “You’re friends with Samantha?”
“We’re family friends, yes.” There was no need to tell her that they had only met the day before.
“So you’ve known her for a while then?
“Long enough.” If she wanted to interrogate him for information about his relationship with Sam, he wasn’t going to make it any easier for her.
She gazed at him speculatively, “Are you in school?”
“Air Force.” His minimalist answers seemed to finally be getting to her. As the girl had her back to the school, she didn’t see Sam approaching from behind her. Jack caught Sam’s eye and, without words, they had a plan to get rid of the irritating girl.
“Thank you for waiting, Jon.” Sam walked to Jack’s side and kissed his cheek before tangling her fingers with his. “Oh, hi, Evelyn. I didn’t see you there.”
Evelyn scowled briefly before plastering a fake smile across her face. “Hello, Samantha.”
“Evelyn?” The girl nodded. “Evelyn was just asking how we knew each other.” Jack smirked, “Old family friends, right Sammy?”
Sam ducked her head and giggled lightly. “Yeah, it feels as if I’ve known Jon for forever.” She glanced at her watch. “We should get going, my class starts soon.”
Jack grabbed her wrist and looked at the watch for himself. His eyes widened for a moment as if the watch had told him something horrible. The pair said their goodbyes quickly and took off; leaving Evelyn standing dazed on the curb.
Jack dropped Sam off at her class and said he would pick her up at 1830. Before Jack could kick the engine over, Sam grabbed his arm. “Thanks, Jack.” At his questioning look she continued. “I mean for dealing with Evelyn. You could have told her you just met me, then you wouldn’t have had to put up with her grilling questions.”
Jack smiled, a real teeth-showing smile, “It’s okay Sam; I don’t mind. We’ve all known people like that. If I can help you with handling the demons of your past, I’ll do it gladly.” Somehow Jack knew he would do anything to help this girl, it didn’t matter that they had only been introduced 18 hours ago.
O’Neill reassured her that he wouldn’t get lost on the way home, and shooed her towards the building. When she was inside, he kicked the engine over and started back to the Carters’.
When Jack arrived back at the house, he found Jacob pulling a lawnmower and other assorted garden tools out of the garage. He parked the bike and walked over to the older man.
“Hey, Sir. Planning on an afternoon of yard work?”
“Son,” Jacob started exasperatedly, “you’re going to be here for the next two weeks, are you really going to call me ‘Sir’ every time you speak with me?”
“Yes, Sir, probably,” Jack replied cheerfully.
Jacob sighed, “Jack, leave the Sirs at the base; call me Jacob while you’re here.”
“What about ‘Jake’?”
“If you must, but I won’t promise to acknowledge your existence if you do.”
Jack grinned at him, “So, Jake, want some help?”
The General scowled but wasn’t fool enough to turn down assistance with the manual labor. The two officers hauled out the remaining tools out to the yard and got to work.
Jack grabbed the lawnmower while Jacob took control of the hedge trimmer. As the two men worked, Jacob took the time to observe the younger officer. Jack was cocky as hell, and while he had the abilities and accolades to back it up, Jacob wanted to know if it was actually just a cover. The two were close but, as well as he knew the young captain, Jacob didn’t know much about his life before he joined the Air Force. From what Jacob had seen, Jack had a softer, more caring, side than the attitude he usually projected. When Jack was dealing with Sam’s old friends the night before he was protective and sweet, not something Jacob had ever seen in him before. He watched Jack push the mower around the grass and noticed that he seemed less tense than he had the previous day. It hadn’t been obvious, Jacob only saw it because he had been the man’s CO for two years—it was his job to notice—and something had been troubling the young man since he returned from his grandfather’s funeral a few days ago. Jacob wanted to confront Jack about it, but knew he wouldn’t want someone prying into his life; Jack would talk when he was good and ready, and not a moment sooner. As things seemed to be getting better, Jacob would leave it alone, but he was going to watch and if it, whatever it was, came back, he would do something.
As Jack and Jacob were doing yard work, Sam was sitting in her Advanced Calculus class, completely unable to focus. While her professor was droning on, Sam’s mind found Jonathan O’Neill a much more interesting topic. A voice pulled her from her thoughts.
“Miss Carter?” Sam looked up from her notebook. “Do you have the answer?”
Sam panicked for a second then glanced at the blackboard and her notes—it seems her hands were listening even if her brain wasn’t—and rattled off an equation. The instructor gave her a stern look but, thankfully, didn’t say anything and continued with the lesson. Sam let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad that the professor hadn’t brought up her inattention. She gave herself a mental shake and focused on what the professor was saying—for a few minutes, then her mind was off on another Jack related tangent.
When the class was dismissed, the professor asked Sam to remain for a moment. She walked to the front of the room and waited while he packed up his briefcase. He requested that they walk together, as they were headed to the same building. As they were walking, he brought up her lack of attention in class. “You’re usually so attentive and focused; is everything alright?”
Sam immediately relaxed; he wasn’t angry with her. “No, everything is fine. It’s probably just the stress of graduating in a few weeks and getting ready to start at the Air Force Academy. I’m sorry about class today; it won’t happen again.”
“Samantha, you’ve got your whole life in front of you, don’t burn out now. It’s okay to have an off day every now and then. In fact, you’ve probably earned one; graduating college at 17 is no mean feat.” He smiled kindly at her. “I’m sure Professor Arndt will understand if you want to take off.”
“But I’m stud—”
“I’m finished for the day;” He interrupted, “if Arndt won’t cover the class, then I will.”
Sam looked at the man next to her; not many professors would make that offer. “Thank you, Professor, but I really—”
“Samantha, go home. I’ll tell Professor Arndt that you weren’t feeling well.” Before she could even open her mouth to launch another protest, he continued. “Do you really think you could teach Calc with your mind wandering the way it is today?”
“No,” She eventually mumbled. Sam agreed to take the remainder of the day off and the two parted ways at the door to his office. As Jack was not supposed to pick her up for several hours yet, Sam decided to take the bus home. It would give her a chance to think. Sam had had crushes before, so the constant presence in her thoughts was nothing new, but there was something more than a silly school-girl crush when it came to Jack. Sam knew there were many reasons why she shouldn’t like Jack: the age difference, first and foremost, he was almost a decade older than her; he was a military officer, soon a relationship between them might result in a court martial, not to mention her father had been his commanding officer for the last two years, it’s a bad idea to date the general’s daughter, but neither Sam’s mind or heart were listening to this list of reasons.
While Sam was thinking, the bus arrived at her stop and she noticed just in time to hop off before it pulled away. As she was walking the three blocks from the bus stop to her house, thoughts of Jack still filled her mind. All the while a little mantra in the background was quietly chanting, “Older Brother, off limits. Older Brother, off limits.” She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn’t notice that anyone was in the yard. She was, therefore, taken by surprise when the first thing she saw when she looked up was a shirtless Jack O’Neill chopping the wood that had been piled in the back corner of the yard for over a year. However Sam had managed to convince herself she saw Jack as an older brother figure was torn to shreds, doused in gasoline, and lit on fire when she saw him; his chest glistening with sweat and his muscles rippling with every swing of the axe. Sam stood, staring at the man in front of her, until someone behind her cleared his throat and she turned to face him.
“Oh,” Sam started, “hi, Dad.”
“I thought you had two classes today?” Jacob’s words were innocent enough, but the tone of his voice suggested that Sam had better have a damn good reason for being home so early.
She nodded, “I generally do, but my Advanced Calc professor told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was to take the rest of the day off.” She gave a little shrug, “He noticed I wasn’t really able to focus in class today and figured the last thing I needed was to try to teach Calc to people who didn’t want to listen in the first place.”
Jacob sent a worried look towards his daughter, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. It’s probably just stress or something.” She smiled to reassure him. “Don’t worry; I just need to stop thinking for a few minutes.” Jacob laughed slightly and gave her a pat on the shoulder.
When Jack had finished splitting the logs, he came over to where the two Carters stood. “You’re home early,” he addressed Samantha. “Was your class cancelled?”
“No, one of the other professors is teaching for me today.” She didn’t elaborate and he didn’t press for more detail.
The silence pressed around the trio, and Jack glanced down at his feet. He noticed something wasn’t quite right and went through a mental checklist. Shoes, yes, socks, check, shorts, yup, shirt, no, shirt is missing. The young officer shot a look at the woodpile; his traitor shirt was resting casually on top of the logs he had just chopped. Jack’s face flushed beet red as he mumbled an excuse and dashed over to retrieve the errant clothing item. He pulled his shirt over his head and made his way back to the others; Sam was giggling and Jacob had a smirk on his face. Jack glared at the two.
“Couldn’t either of you have mentioned, or indicated, or done something to let me know I’d forgotten my shirt?” His voice was slightly higher than normal, clearly strained with embarrassment.
“No,” Jacob said, “I was waiting to see how long it would take you to notice.” When Jack looked at Sam she coughed and glanced away without giving her excuse.
Jack muttered something under his breath and stomped into the house, leaving the two on the porch, one giggling and the other highly amused with the younger man’s reaction.