The End
The End
by Lt. Tara Farrago
Summary: Jack offers Sam the closure she needs to move on with her life. (Because even an admittedly sad ending is better than no ending at all.)
Category: Alternate Universe, Angst, Romance
Season: Season 8
Pairing: Jack/Sam, Sam/Pete
Rating: GEN
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: I wrote this some time ago, after I'd given up on the series being good anymore (c'mon, Jack behind a desk?!) and though it's not my best work, it holds a special place in my heart (partly b/c of the subject matter, and partly b/c I managed to finish it.) PLEASE SEND ME YOUR COMMENTS! If you hate it, I want to know!
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 09/03/06
The End
Absolutely the last person General Jack O'Neill expected to see on his doorstep at eight o'clock at night was Pete Shanahan, Carter's potential fianc-to-be.
From his perch on the roof, peering over the railing of the observation platform he'd built for himself, it was difficult to make out the man's features, and O'Neill had only met Pete once, when he'd interfered with a dangerous mission on home soil. But on that sole occasion, Jack had made it a point to burn Pete's image into his mind, so now there was no mistaking him.
There were a few long moments of silence as Pete stood on the stoop shuffling his feet while Jack peered down at him from above, before the boyfriend reached for the doorbell a second time. At this point, O'Neill grudgingly realized that, much as he didn't want to, it would be a smarter thing to let Pete in for a chat and find out what the man wanted, rather than to watch him walk away. So he called down, "Can I help you with something?"
He hadn't meant for his tone to sound as harsh as it did, but then he didn't actually care that much, either.
Pete jumped and took a step back to lift his face skyward. "General!" he exclaimed. "You startled me."
"You interrupted my stargazing," Jack informed him, then asked again, "Can I help you with something?"
Undoubtedly, Pete had come with a prearranged plan of action, a blueprint of his conversation with the general. Also undoubtedly, finding the general on the roof had not been a part of that plan. But if Pete was caught off-guard, Jack wasn't sorry for it. "I don't know if you remember me, sir. My name is Pete Shanahan. I'm a friend of Colonel Carter's."
Jack sighed and resigned himself to the conversation that was coming. "I remember you," he grumbled. "Come around back - there's a ladder."
"Thank you," Pete called up. A moment later he'd disappeared behind the hedges, only a few moments after that Jack heard the ladder rattle against the side of his house, and then, there was Pete, thanking him again while he got himself good and comfortable next to the tripod of Jack's telescope.
"You don't have to call me 'sir'," said Jack. "You're not in the military." In fact, O'Neill might have preferred that Pete keep calling him 'sir' if only so that this man might find him more intimidating - except that when Pete said it, somehow it made him feel old. And really, this guy wasn't that much younger than he was.
But, yes, Jack acknowledged to himself, he was that much younger than him. And he was probably handsomer, too (though Jack didn't consider himself an authority on those sorts of matters.) It was no wonder that Carter had fallen for him.
"Sorry," Pete smiled. "I guess I just picked it up from Sam."
Something tightened in Jack's stomach, and he wasn't sure why. Still, in the spirit of diplomacy, he gave a tight smile back and asked, "What brings you out here?"
Pete shrugged and looked around. "Well," he said, apparently uncomfortable, "I actually was wondering if I could talk to you about Colonel Carter."
Jack restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He didn't believe any boyfriend of Carter's could be stupid enough or naive enough to think that Carter's teammate and superior officer would be uncomfortable referring to her casually. It had to be that the man's nervousness was effecting his ability to have an intelligent conversation. "You can call her 'Sam'."
"Right," he laughed.
Jack raised his eyebrows after a brief silence. "Didn't you say you wanted to talk?"
"Right," Pete said again. "I guess I'm not sure where to start. Um . . ." He thought about it, then began, "Well. Sam and I have been seeing each other for a while now." Jack didn't respond. "We're . . . pretty heavily involved at this point. And two weeks ago, I asked her to marry me." Jack still didn't respond. He was waiting for Pete to tell him something he didn't already know. He also knew that by not responding, he was making Pete more and more nervous, and since Jack instinctively didn't like Pete, he was more than content to remain silent. Meanwhile, Pete yammered on, "I don't know if she told you that already."
"I knew," Jack said simply.
"Right, well. . . ." Pete took a deep breath and sighed, and to Jack's dismay, Pete's nervousness dissipated with his breath on the cool air. "I came to you because of the way Sam talks about you," he explained. "I know you've worked together for a number of years now, and I know how much she respects you." Jack was listening attentively. "I've been a cop long enough to know that the bonds partners and teammates form when they're in action are . . . I can imagine how close you must be with her and the rest of your team," he said. "Which is why I thought you would be the best person to ask."
Jack waited an appropriate length of time and then said, "Ask me what?"
Suddenly Pete's nerves were failing him again, but he managed to answer, "It's been two weeks since I proposed, and she still hasn't given me an answer. I know she loves me, and God knows I love her-" he said that so emphatically and earnestly that Jack, though he felt every muscle in his body tense, was forced to reconsider his opinions of the man. Suddenly Jack was acutely aware that Pete was right, Sam did love him. He had seen it on her face whenever she spoke of him, or whenever she thought of him. Even before he'd known they were dating, Jack had seen that look in her eyes when he'd invited her out for pizza with Teal'c and Daniel or some other SG-1 extracurricular activity, and she'd turned him down, saying she had other plans, or was tired and just wanted to go home. Now he knew. Now he understood.
Pete was continuing, "-and I thought that she wanted to make a life with me. I mean, we've talked about things like where she would want to live, about how we both want kids someday. I thought that meant she wanted to do those things with me."
"But she hasn't given you an answer yet," Jack offered.
"No. I think," he hesitated, then started again, "I think something's holding her back, but I don't know what. It's not her work, or at least I don't think it is. We've talked about that and she knows I support her completely. I mean, I know how dangerous it is, but I also know how important it is, and I definitely know how important it is to her. She has to know I would never want to take that away from her or try to interfere."
"Yeah," Jack said, sighing inwardly to himself.
"And it's not another man. At least I don't think it is."
"No," Jack told him, dejectedly. "That's not it."
"Then," Pete asked with desperation, "do you have any idea what it is she's hung up on? I'm sorry, General, I know this must be awkward for you, but I just . . . I have to know. I'm starting to doubt everything I ever thought there was between me and Sam, like maybe she doesn't really love me, at least not the way I thought she does. . . . I'm gonna go out of my mind."
Jack sighed and lowered his eyes to review his ever-darkening situation. Deep down, Jack was forced to admit to himself, he had some sort of profound love for Sam. He'd known that for a while, but had always avoided facing it. And now, sitting right here in front of him was a man who loved her not only as deeply as Jack himself did, but loved her openly in a way that Jack would not be able to do until he retired, and maybe not even then. Here was a man who wanted to build a life with her, to raise children with her, to grow old with her. Jack thought about the image he'd seen staring out at him from the mirror that morning: he was already old, or getting there. Who was he to stand in Pete's way?
"Listen. Samantha . . ." He faltered and had to start again. "Sam and I don't really talk much about this sort of thing." He saw Pete's face start to fall. "But, I know that she cares about you. A lot. You know, she had to pull a lot of strings to get authorization to tell you about the work we do."
"I know."
"You don't. But never mind. The point is . . ." Jack sighed again, this time out of exasperation. "Look, just . . . this is a big thing, and up until she met you, not even a viable option for her. Just give her some more time to get used to the idea." He added for emphasis, "She'll come around."
Pete nodded, trying to look understanding, but clearly he had not yet been put at ease. Jack wasn't surprised. He doubted Pete would have any peace of mind until Carter accepted his proposal. "Okay. Well, thank you, General. I appreciate your time."
"Glad I could help," Jack said with a forced smile.
Pete pushed himself to his feet and moved toward the ladder. "I should get going," he said, "and let you get back to whatever it is you were doing."
"Not much," Jack informed him, indicating the telescope.
"I hear Mars is supposed to be pretty bright this time of year."
"It is."
"Ah. Well, thanks again."
"Any time," Jack said, not really sure if he meant it or not. Jack watched Pete as he crossed his front lawn, got into his car, and drove away without another glance back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was still unable to shake off their conversation two days later. After listening to a particularly uninteresting debriefing of SG-1's mission to a tundra planet, Jack was now reclined lazily behind his desk, letting his eyes linger on a picture Daniel had taken of himself with Sam and Teal'c on either side. He didn't realize Daniel was watching from the doorway.
"Jack," said Daniel, drawing him from his reverie.
"What is it?" he asked.
Daniel was frowning at him, his arms folded across his chest. "Teal'c and I are going to O'Malley's for dinner. I was going to see if you wanted to join us. Is everything okay?"
He raised his eyebrows in an 'I-don't-know-what-you're-referring-to' expression which O'Neill had long ago perfected. "Fine."
"'Cause just now when I . . . you seemed . . ." O'Neill continued giving him the look. "Never mind. So, are you coming to O'Malley's?"
Jack thought about it a moment. "Is Carter coming?"
"No," Daniel said, "she mentioned something about some lab reports that needed to get done."
Jack thought about it some more and said, "I'll pass."
"Okay." Daniel appeared simultaneously surprised and concerned -- an expression he had long ago perfected. "You're sure everything's all right?"
"Just peachy," said Jack. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Daniel left him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He found Carter in her lab, not writing her lab reports. Instead she was gazing absently at her left ring-finger, on which Jack could just barely make out in the dim lighting the glint of a diamond.
"Hard at work, I see," he announced his presence.
He'd surprised her (he'd meant to) and she straightened quickly, greeting him, "General," as she slipped the ring off her finger and slid it surreptitiously into her pocket. "I thought you'd be out with Daniel and Teal'c."
Jack shrugged and took a few steps into the room. "Kinda tired," he explained. "I had some paperwork to catch up on. Whatchya workin' on?" he asked, nodding toward her open laptop beside her.
"Oh," she said, smiling, nervous. "Paperwork. Lab reports. Catching up."
Jack nodded. Inwardly, he was thinking that Sam was exhibiting very un-Carter-like behavior. Carter, after all, was rarely so brief in her response, especially in reference to her work. He must have truly caught her off-guard. Or else he had made her uncomfortable in some way or another.
"Yes, that's entirely apparent," he noted ironically. Carter blushed and looked away, knowing he'd caught her in the act of contemplating a life without him.
He stood there with his hands in his pockets considering her. She had feelings for him, that much he knew. She'd admitted as much under interrogation before the U.S.-Tok'ra summit three years earlier, and again only months ago when he'd been injured in the same battle that had cost Janet her life.
She could be his right now if he wanted it that way.
But that wouldn't be fair, would it? After all, he'd had more than eight years to make his move, and then to make it now, after she'd finally found someone who could give her all that she wanted and deserved . . . that wouldn't be right. It would be unfair to her, and to Pete. Not that he cared about being fair to Pete. Pete, who had snuck in the back door while Jack wasn't looking. (No, he reminded himself, he had been looking. Hadn't it been him who'd left the door wide open in the first place?)
"You got a minute?" he asked.
"Sure," she said, busying her hands by shuffling some papers into a pile. She looked up at him expectantly. "Have a seat."
Jack perched himself on a stool at the end of the table and smiled politely back at her, unsure how to start. She spread her hands apart, inviting conversation. Stalling for time, Jack mimicked the motion, then rubbed his palms together to drag out the silence just a little bit longer, before finally laying his hands flat on the table in front of him and asking, "How's things?"
"Pretty good, actually." She emphasized this by nodding. "Things have been fairly quiet on the war with the Goa'uld lately, and we haven't received any urgent messages from the Tok'ra or Asgard, so I've had more time to study some of the technology we've traded from our new allies. We're learning some really fascinating things about new types of alloys . . ." She finally trailed off when she saw the look on Jack's face.
"I meant, how's things with you? As in, you," he explained.
"Oh. Good, I guess."
"Good," he said quickly.
After a moment, Carter asked, "How are things with you, sir?"
"With me?" He lied, "Couldn't be better."
She nodded. "Glad to hear that, General."
General. General. Before that it was Colonel. Never just Jack. He then began a thorough study of his knuckles, wringing each finger individually to observe every minute detail. "The reason I ask," he said, "is because Pete dropped by my house two nights ago."
Carter blinked hard and shook her head in an expression of complete shock. "He did what? Why? What did he want? Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Hey-hey!" he objected, cutting her off. "I'm tellin' a story here." He paused, looked confused on purpose, and asked, "Where was I?"
Sam allowed herself a small smirk. "The part where Pete was at your house."
"Yes. Yes, indeed. Good Old Pete and I had a nice cozy chat. Lit some candles, broke open a nice Chianti . . ." The way Carter was looking at him, he knew it was time he got serious. "He's worried why you haven't given him an answer to his proposal. Which I understand he put to you over two weeks ago." Carter looked away. Jack sighed. "Listen, Carter, I know it's none of my business . . . but, Pete seems like a decent guy, and he's getting ready to go completely bonkers over this." He tried to explain, "He doesn't know what you're hung up on, so he's starting to think that the problem is with him." The way Carter swiftly looked up told him that this definitely was not the case. Jack shrugged. "That's just the way guys' minds work. Now I'm not saying you should give him an answer, but . . ." his eyes drifted away while he pretended to be working out how he would finish his sentence. ". . . you should give him an answer. . . . All of this, of course, is totally unofficial and off the record."
Carter set her jaw, frowning, and admitted, "I don't know what I want, sir." He waited quietly for her to elaborate. "I thought I knew. But now that it comes down to it, I'm just not sure." She looked around her lab. "Part of me does want the house and the marriage and the kids. But . . . I'm just not ready to give all this up yet."
Jack resumed the examination of his hands. "Well, you know, you wouldn't have to give it up. At least, not right away. And, if, at some point, you decided that field missions aren't your thing anymore, there'll always be a place for you in the lab."
This seemed to calm her mind only a bit. Carter turned to look him directly in the eye and said, "There's more to it than just that, sir." She held his gaze for a brief moment, then quickly looked away again.
Jack watched her, understanding what she was referring to and trying to screw up enough volition to refrain from divulging in that line of thought. All he had to do was forget the military's dumb bureaucratic regulations. . . . "Carter," he started, sounding uncomfortable, "you've been a member of my team for," he didn't want to say the number - it hadn't been that long, had it? ". . . a while now. You and Daniel and Teal'c have proven yourselves time and time again how valuable you are as soldiers and scientists, and how important you are to the functioning of this facility." Jack suddenly felt like he was channeling General Hammond. But then, wasn't that the figure he'd become by taking the job? And wasn't that the kind of figure Carter needed to hear from right now? "You are one of the best soldiers I've ever served with, and on top of that . . . you are way smarter than I could ever be." This made Carter laugh a little, which he was glad for. "Someday, if you want to, you'll be running this place. But, if that's not something you want . . . well, then, Daniel can do it." Again, she laughed quietly. Finally, he told her, seriously, "There should be more to life than just this." And of course, by "this" he was referring to the Stargate program in its entirety, himself included. "And if that's what you want, then you've more than earned it." Sam looked just about ready to cry. "And, you know, this guy Pete, he seems to really love you, so. . . ."
Carter grinned half-heartedly and sniffed. "Thank you, sir."
She could have been his. Just then, he'd never been closer to having her. Instead . . . He felt a hollow numbness settling inside him. He lifted the corners of his mouth in a smile and told her, not really sure if he meant it or not, "Any time."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a lull in their conversation while they ate their meals, during which Daniel decided to bring up a subject he'd been dancing around all evening. "Teal'c," he said, "has Jack been acting kind of strange lately?"
"In what way do you mean?" asked Teal'c.
"Just, you know, he's been kind of quiet the last few weeks. Contemplative. Especially the last couple days. Know what I mean?"
"I believe so. It is as if a matter of great importance has been weighing on his mind."
"Yeah, kind of."
"He has been behaving this way ever since Colonel Carter announced she had been propositioned."
"Proposed to," Daniel corrected, and then paused for consideration. He hadn't made that connection yet, between Jack's funk and Sam's proposal. The fact was bittersweet, even for Daniel. As one of her closest friends, Daniel was elated for Sam that she had found someone she was happy with. But with this came the possibility of losing her to her new life, and Daniel would miss her dearly.
Still, even acknowledging this, Jack's reaction seemed disproportionate to the occasion. Maybe there was something else going on. "I don't know," Daniel said. "I tried asking him about it this afternoon, but he didn't want to talk about it."
"That is to be expected," Teal'c noted. "There may perhaps be some other matter transpiring which we have no knowledge of, Daniel Jackson."
A thought occurred to Daniel, which he smiled at. "Maybe he's going through a mid-life crisis." Teal'c lifted an eyebrow. Daniel laughed to himself and shook his head. "Never mind."
But when he thought about it further, he realized that his suggestion might not actually be so far off. Jack's recent promotion brought with it a whole new set of pressures and responsibilities, not the least of which being that Jack, who'd been a man of action for nearly his entire career, was now trapped behind a desk. And along with this, he was cut off from his friends - while Jack was busy running the SGC, Daniel, Teal'c, and Sam were off-world or busy in a lab somewhere doing scientist-things. What was worst was that, though Daniel had perhaps naively thought that their relationship with Jack would remain largely unchanged, his promotion seemed to have driven a wedge between them all. Not just in that they didn't see each other as much. Things were different with them now. He wasn't a part of the team anymore.
Now that Daniel stopped to think about it, this was particularly true between Jack and Sam. And somehow, it was the new strain between the two of them that saddened Daniel the most - more even than the fresh awkwardness he felt in his own relationship with the man, whom Daniel had come to love almost like an older brother. Because Jack and Sam had always seemed to get along so easily with each other . . . Jack had, after all, always been willing to follow her lead, Sam always used to smile at his bad jokes. . . . And now, Daniel thought, faced with the possibility of losing Sam, whom Jack had always seemed so fond of, always especially looked after, always cared for . . . A thousand images and memories of the two of them together, of their mannerisms, of how they acted around each other and when they were apart, flooded Daniel's mind, and everything suddenly, inexplicably and finally fell into place.
"Oh my god . . ." Daniel said, "I know what's wrong with Jack."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack opened the door and found Daniel, already soaked, standing there with rain water running off him, and the dampened scientist declared incredulously, "You're in love with Sam." Jack only looked at him. Even if he could have formulated a response, he would have been too tired to bother with it. "Am I right?"
Jack opened the door wide and stepped aside. "Come on in."
Daniel did so. Jack didn't hang around in the hall - he retreated to the kitchen and left Daniel to hang his dripping coat by the door. "Beer?" called Jack.
"Uh, no thanks." He turned around and found his friend standing with his hand outstretched, fresh beer in hand. Daniel gave a half-grin and took it, saying, "Okay then, sure."
"You want to sit down?" Jack asked. Daniel said that he did, so they moved to the living room. From the look of things - Styrofoam boxes of takeout, an empty beer bottle or two, other types of expected bachelor's-clutter - Daniel surmised that Jack had made himself comfortable on the couch several hours earlier. The general flopped down again, rested his feet on the coffee table amongst the trash, and tipped his beer in a silent cheers. Daniel returned the gesture, reluctantly taking a swig of the drink. "So," the general announced in a pathetic attempt to start the conversation.
"I don't know how I didn't see it sooner," Daniel surged ahead. "I mean," he said, "I guess I always knew there was something between you, but . . . I didn't really realize that it really went that deep." Jack was silent again. Daniel knew his friend was a man of few words, but still, some sort of acknowledgement would have gone a long way to make this already awkward exchange much less strained. "You've got to say something here, Jack. . . . Am I wrong?"
"No," Jack answered numbly.
"So, that's why you've been . . . out of sorts the past few days?" It was more a statement than a question. "Sam's boyfriend proposed to her weeks ago. What brought this on all of a sudden?" Daniel blinked when the answer suddenly seemed apparent. "Did she accept?"
"No," Jack answered again. "Not yet." There was a brief pause, which the general ended by addressing Daniel's confusion. "He stopped by the other night. Pete. Her boyfriend."
Daniel stared at him, dumbfounded. "He came here?"
"He wanted reassurance, 'cause Carter's taking so long to decide."
The archaeologist, taken fully off-guard by this unforeseen development, sat back in the large armchair to consider it a while. Finally, he thought it best to ask the most obvious question, "What did you tell him?"
Jack sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I told him that she was just trying to get used to the idea of married life."
Daniel nodded. It had been diplomatic, and not an outright lie. "You know that's not really the case, though, right?" he said. Jack was silent and would not meet his eyes. "Jack?" Jack said that he knew. "You do know what's holding her back, don't you?"
"Don't, Daniel," said Jack, still unwilling to meet his gaze.
"Why not?" Daniel challenged him. Now Jack looked up, but then saw the archaeologist's raised eyebrows and reminded himself that Daniel wasn't trying to be malicious. "Sam is-"
"Daniel," he warned, but his friend persisted.
"She loves you." Jack sighed. "She does. The way she laughs at your corny jokes. The way she acts when you're not around. How she--"
"Daniel! I know!" he shouted, exasperated. He drew a breath to calm himself and took a moment, seemingly to gather his thoughts, and then shook his head and simply said, "Let's just not talk about it."
"Jack," Daniel said, "I think that now is not the time to fall back on your military training-"
"Oh, Christ, Daniel," he exclaimed, "you really think that's it?"
"Then why won't you talk about it?"
The general glared dully across the room at his friend and asked, "What's the point?" Daniel didn't answer, so he elaborated, "It's not going to happen, it never was going to happen. So why drag it all out in the open?"
Daniel sat back again, and for a long time didn't know how to come at it next.
"I just don't understand," he finally said. "I love Sha'ure more than any other person I've ever met. I would have given up everything to be with her. I did give up everything, actually, but that's not the point. I just don't understand how you two can obviously care for each other so much, and still not be together."
Jack stared absently at the coffee table. "It's complicated."
"It isn't."
"It is."
"Why? Because of military regulations?"
"That, yes," Jack said. "Because of the work we're doing and the positions we hold. You're a civilian, so you don't know. Carter worked her tail off to get where she is. You know how many women rise to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in the Air Force?"
"She might end up giving it up anyway to be with Pete."
"There's more to it than just that. And there are other reasons. It's just . . . complicated. We don't live on some desert planet stuck in the Bronze Age, or whenever." He added the latter hastily to deflect any attempt by Daniel to correct him on the sophistication of Abydosian society. "I don't have the luxury you had," he said, calmer now, and more dejected than ever. "There are certain things that are expected of us, and that she would expect of me. I don't know that I could give her the life she wants."
What Daniel wanted to ask was, 'Like what?' but sensed that he would be crossing too far over the line by broaching the subject of Jack's inadequacies tonight. He suspected much of it had to do with Jack's former role as a family man, and those scars were not lightly revisited.
"So that's it, then?" Daniel asked quietly. "You're just going to give up on her, on yourself?"
"I went and saw her tonight," he said. "I wanted to finish it, so she wouldn't have it hanging over her anymore."
Daniel was struck by the selflessness of his friend's act. Part of Jack still mourned the loss of his first wife, whom he'd lost to his own sorrow. Now he resigned another piece of himself to the mourning of a second lost love: Sam. "You told her to marry Pete," said Daniel. Jack nodded. In so many words, he had.
Though he was presently too stunned by the evening's revelations to feel much of anything, when Daniel returned home early in the morning, a heavy sorrow welled up inside him - for a loss he himself had not even suffered. He felt like crying, and he wondered if Jack or Sam felt the same.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EIGHT MONTHS LATER . . .
The organ swelled and all heads turned to the back.
There was Jacob, standing at the end of the aisle in the finest tuxedo money could rent. (A bureaucratic hiccup had nearly cost the now-host-to-a-Tok'ra-symbiote the chance to attend his daughter's wedding. Jack had had to make some calls to the NSA and State Department to smooth things over.) On his arm was Samantha. Her longer layered hair fell just above her bare shoulders, and she was stunningly beautiful in her white gown. Ever the non-traditionalist, she'd chosen a dress that looked more appropriate to attend a black-tie function than to be married in, being that the gown was sleeveless and exposed her shapely legs to just above her knees, but its simplicity did her justice, and more than one quiet gasp was heard as she started down the aisle.
Jack followed her with his eyes as she came nearer. That hollowness he'd felt eight months earlier was back again in full force, weighted by the circumstance of the moment. He stood in the second pew (Sam's immediate family had the first) between Daniel, on the aisle, and Teal'c. General Hammond had even managed to fly in for the ceremony, though he would be boarding a helicopter before the reception had even really gotten started, and he stood next to Teal'c. Both generals wore their military dress uniforms, which meant that they stood out like sore thumbs in the small crowd of guests.
Samantha approached, smiling serenely - he'd never seen her so happy and at peace - one hand draped over her father's arm, the other gently holding a single white rose. She was smiling at the altar, but as she approached, she glanced in her team's direction and flashed Daniel a toothy ear-to-ear grin that seemed to shout excitedly, 'I can't believe I'm doing this!' Daniel was grinning supportively back at her, his surrogate sister. Daniel couldn't have been prouder.
As she turned back toward the altar, her eyes slid and held momentarily on Jack. Jack, who was smiling warmly back at her, trying to remember how happy he was for her, that he was glad she would finally have all that she deserved. Their eyes met for half-a-second, and Jack wished he could have interpreted what was behind her gaze, but the contact was too brief, and at any rate, Jack didn't want to risk analyzing anything now, when it was too late to do anything but regret.
And then she was joining Pete in front of the minister, Jacob was taking his seat in front of Jack (Jacob, who had remarked nonchalantly to the general after the invitations had gone out, "You know, it's funny, but I guess I always thought it would be you," and then laughed, "Thank God it isn't!"), and the congregation took their seats. The minister began, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here . . ."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The happy couple was still dancing. They'd been at it for nearly half-an-hour now, while their family and friends talked amongst themselves and munched cocktail shrimp. Daniel had allowed himself to be goaded into dancing with one or two of the bridesmaids, and later with Sam's sister-in-law, all of whom seemed to think him quite the catch. He'd tried to get Teal'c to join in, only to ease his own embarrassment, but the quiet burly alien had respectfully declined. Jack had made it clear to them on earlier occasions, just in case this circumstance arose, that he did not know how to dance and didn't care to try. Truthfully, Jack was a fair dancer, and at his own wedding years ago, he and Sarah, like Pete and Sam, had lingered on the dance floor as long as their guests had allowed before being pulled away to mingle, as Sam and Pete were now.
Now the three men sat together, taking in the party around them. "God, she looks . . . unbelievable," Daniel remarked. "Don't you think?"
"Indeed she does," agreed Teal'c. Apparently, Jack's silence as he fingered his nearly-full glass of champagne was evident, because Teal'c asked, "Do you not think so, too, O'Neill?"
He pulled himself out of his reverie quickly and told them, "Oh, no, I agree. Unbelievable. Exquisite. Beautiful. All of the above."
Daniel kept on smiling. He's been smiling all day, Jack remarked to himself, didn't his face hurt by now? Jack had of course been doing his best to laugh and smile and be friendly, and he'd had the better part of a year to prepare for the event, so not all of his apparent glee was feigned. But the truth of the matter was that he'd never been one for making small talk with people he'd never met before and would never see again, which was essentially the case for him and every other member of the reception party. Also, the reality of what had transpired in the church that morning had settled in, so he still felt numb, and awkward, and out of place.
He raised the glass of champagne to sip at it again. Alcohol would help, he thought, but he'd decided this morning that he would rather wait to drink at home, alone, where he could get as absolutely drunk as he felt like being. So the glass was there primarily for appearances, and to give him something to look at aside from Sam and Pete dancing.
"You know, it's been a while since we did this," Daniel declared. Teal'c and Jack didn't get his implication and looked at him quizzically. "I mean, the three of us just hanging out."
"It has been some time," nodded Teal'c. "We should correct the matter."
"Indeed," O'Neill echoed the Jaffa flatly, into his champagne glass. "No, I'm serious," he added, somewhat unconvincingly, when he saw the looks Teal'c and Daniel were giving him. "We'll do pizza next week."
"Should I bring a video, O'Neill?"
Jack shrugged. "Sure, if you want."
Teal'c smiled and seemed to consider this. "I will bring 'Star Trek: Generations'."
Daniel asked, "Teal'c, don't you get tired of watching science fiction movies? I mean, don't they all pale in comparison with your own life?" Teal'c lifted an eyebrow at him in confusion, so he just said, "Never mind."
Finally, it seemed, it was time for the speeches. The bride and groom were persuaded by the bridesmaids to take their places at their table so that the praising and well-wishing might be gotten on with.
As Sam took her seat next to Pete, she stole a glance in the general's direction, to reassure herself he was having a reasonably good time. Unfortunately, this didn't seem to be the case.
Was she happy with Pete? Yes. Of course. Pete loved her, and she him, and she knew that he could give her the perfect life she'd always wanted. But oddly, though there had technically never been anything between herself and the general, she was sure that by marrying Pete she was hurting O'Neill in some way. And so she watched him out of the corner of her eye while she held her husband's hand, and felt guilty that the general couldn't be happier than he was.
One of the groom's childhood friends went first. He told an appropriately embarrassing story from Pete's college days, mentioned how great it was that Pete was finally settling down, and offered Sam luck and an early wedding gift - upon which he handed her a folded piece of paper. Sam flipped it open, laughed, and showed it to Pete, who laughed good-naturedly but simultaneously turned red with embarrassment. She asked the Best Man if she could read it out to the party. It was a top ten list of Pete's most annoying habits and how best to cope with them, and it was a big hit. Pete had the good grace to stand up and cordially thank his friend for his wisdom as well as promise to someday return the favor.
Next was Pete's former partner on the police force. His speech was brief, highlighting an incident in which Pete showed his true color as a good and honorable man. He also spoke of the first time he heard Pete talk about "this girl he met" - Sam - and how from the way he talked about her (glowingly, and often) everyone knew he would marry her. He finished by expressing his sincerest hope for their eternal happiness.
Her father went next.
"God, you look so much like your mother did on our wedding day," he began, almost under his breath. Tears sprang to Sam's eyes, but she appreciated it and silently thanked her father for making her mom a part of this day. Jacob cleared his throat and went on, "I've never been good at this. Honey, you've accomplished so much. You graduated at the top of your class; got your doctorate; entered a challenging and fulfilling career that allows you to utilize your many skills, your talents, and your incredible intellect to their maximum potential; and you recently made the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel in the U.S. Air Force, which, I should say for all the civilians in the room, is no easy feat.
"During my long career in the military, which was not nearly as distinguished as Sam's will be by the time she retires, my greatest accomplishment was marrying my wife, and raising two wonderful children together." Sam shifted her gaze to a sullen man on the other side of the room sitting with two teenage children and a woman who was doing an excellent job of pretending she was happy to be there - her brother, and his family. In the back of her mind, it registered that it would have been nice if he could try as hard as his wife to have a good time. But this was her wedding day, so in reverence to the occasion and the desire for the day to be perfect, she pushed those thoughts away. Her father continued, solemnly and proudly, "And now you've achieved the greatest accomplishment of your personal life, too, Sam. You're married, and you seem to have caught yourself a wonderful man. Pete, I couldn't be happier to have you as a son-in-law." Pete raised his glass in thanks. "Sam," Jacob said, "I'm so proud of you. I would wish you luck and happiness, but as for luck, you've never needed it, and I already know that you couldn't be happier." He cleared his throat again. "And that's the end of my speech," he concluded, to light chuckles and applause.
Thinking the event was done with, Jack raised his champagne for another sip when suddenly he found that Daniel was rising from his chair, clinking his glass with a knife to get the crowd's attention.
Jack cursed him silently. He should have warned him not to do this. Should have told him multiple times, maybe even made it an order, that neither Daniel nor Teal'c were to make speeches. But he hadn't, he'd assumed Daniel would have had a greater sense of decorum and known that colleagues were supposed to keep their seats and only write nice notes on the inside of their congratulations cards, not give speeches. But there Daniel stood, and the crowd shifted in their seats to get a better view of him and his strange companions.
"I'm sorry, I know this is a little unconventional," he began, "but if you don't mind, I'd like to say a few words." Jack lowered his glass and tried to appear attentive. Looking up, Sam caught his eyes. She'd seen his expression and was smirking at him knowingly. Jack cleared his throat quickly and turned back to Daniel. "I wish I could tell you about the first time I met Sam," he was saying. "And I wish I had some amusing anecdote to tell about her. Unfortunately, most of what Sam and I work on together is classified by the military, so that's sort of out the window." This received a few quiet laughs, for which Daniel allowed too long a pause. He shifted uncomfortably. "Instead, I'll just tell you this: Sam is absolutely the most capable, intelligent woman I'll ever meet. If the fate of the world rested in her hands, well, believe me, you'd all have nothing to worry about." Jack looked up to share Danny's inside-joke with Sam and found her instead sharing it with Pete. Underneath the table, he saw, they were squeezing each other's hands. "Sam," Daniel continued, "you've been my best friend for eight years. You lifted me up during the worst times, and you kept me from falling during the best times. I don't know a luckier guy than Pete is to have met and married you." Pete and Daniel raised their glasses to each other across the room. "May your days be merry and long. Best wishes and love to you both." The guests all clapped or raised their own glasses in agreement. Sam mouthed silently, 'Thank you, Daniel.'
Daniel wasn't yet back in his seat when Teal'c rose gracefully and clasped his hands behind his back to address the crowd and his teammate. "I, too, would like to offer a blessing, in the custom of the Mozambique village in which I was born. Colonel Carter, her husband: live well, together, and honor each other for the whole of your lives." Sam smiled respectfully, nodded her appreciation. Teal'c inclined his upper body in a very fine bow, then took his seat.
His had been met with scattered claps and shared glances of confusion or surprise, but now it seemed that all the eyes in the room were seeking Jack. All, that is, except for Sam's, Jacob's, and Daniel's - those who knew how uncomfortable this was going to be for him. Jack was cursing himself for wearing the dress uniform; it naturally attracted attention and painfully reminded the room of the fact that he was Sam's superior officer. Now that the other members of her team had made their speeches, it seemed it was his turn, which was the last thing he wanted it to be.
Sam, from her vantage point overlooking the room, dared to throw her gaze in the general's direction, hoping to catch him glancing her way so that she might subtlety indicate that he didn't have to do this. Finding a distraction would be easy enough - a nod to the Best Man and the speeches would be declared over with. Let that be my gift to him, she thought. To spare him any discomfort or embarrassment.
But, too late. He hadn't met her eyes, and now slowly, reluctantly, he stood. He started to bring his glass with him, then thought better of it, and was in the middle of allowing himself a healthy pause before starting (to gather his thoughts) when a man coughing in the back drew him back to his task. He began: "Looking back, I'd say there have been four turning points in my life." From the way he spoke, slowly and clearly, as though he was taking the time to carefully choose each word, the audience sensed they were in for a long and not particularly entertaining speech, and Jack heard a collective shifting-in-the-seats and rumple of expensive fabrics as they got themselves comfortable. Only Sam, he knew, was listening attentively, though he was afraid to look her way just yet. He continued, undaunted. "The first was the day I entered the armed services. The second was the day I was married. The next two . . ." Now was not the time to bring up bad memories, he decided, ". . . don't really matter right now, actually. Samantha-" he said, looking swiftly up at her. "-we've known each other - what? - eight years now? So," addressing the crowd again, "I guess I know her pretty well. And believe me, she's everything these guys said she was and more, and I think they said it better than I ever could, so, I guess I'll leave that at that."
He took a deep breath. "Anyway. If I had to guess, I'd say Samantha here has had three major turning points in her life. The first was when she lost her mother, who I know she loved very much. The second must have been when she joined the Air Force, or when she earned her doctorate - that one's kind of a toss-up. But the third would undoubtedly have to be the day she started under my command." He said this in such a way that his audience couldn't take him seriously and laughed. "Not to flatter myself, of course. Sam and Murray-" here Teal'c raised an eyebrow "-and Daniel and I do some pretty interesting work with our deep space telemetry project. You nerds out there will understand." He'd earned some light chuckles there, as well. "That would make today the fourth turning point in the Lieutenant-Colonel's life." He turned to Carter now and finally looked her straight in the eye. The seriousness behind his fixated gaze caught her entirely by surprise - it seemed to her that though Jack's face was smiling, his eyes were only trying to. And if she wasn't careful, she realized, she might burst into tears at any moment. Because it wasn't so much his words that struck her, as his sentiment: he was saying goodbye.
"From here on out, you're not just you anymore," he told her solemnly. "You're him, too. Later, if you decide to populate the world with little Carters and Shanahans, you'll also be them. They'll own you. And as devoted as you are to your work and to the Air Force, it's your devotion to them, and their devotion to you, that matters most. There's nothing I take more seriously than that. If that means we'll be seeing less of you around the base, well . . . we'll all miss you, but more than that we'll be glad you've found someone who can make you happy for the rest of your life."
As he held her eyes, he thought to himself that he was smart to have held off drinking until later. Not only because he was able to maintain solid control of his nerves, but because he wouldn't have wanted his senses dulled for these last few moments between them.
Sam, meanwhile, was struggling with the emotional weight of the moment. Who had been there for her in all the situations she'd faced over the past eight years? she thought. Who had been her crutch when she needed one? Who had she silently drawn strength from when she was weak? It was Jack, and he was saying goodbye. She broke his gaze, unable to meet it any longer, and squeezed Pete's hand for reassurance.
Jack turned his attention to the groom. "You'll take good care of her, Pete?" It wasn't a question, really, just a statement of the obvious.
Pete grinned and nodded confidently. "Yes, sir!" he called, eliciting laughs from the guests.
Jack could think of nothing else to say, so he raised his glass. "To the happy couple." The room erupted in cheers and applause. The Best Man called out that it was time to get on with the festivities. The general returned to his seat; Daniel patted him on the back supportively. As he finally raised his glass to his lips, Daniel lifted his own, and Teal'c followed suite with a bottle of water. Jack smiled, genuinely, at each of them, and together they gave a silent cheers.
The band started back up again, and before long, couples caught up in the bubbly excitement of the day, and perhaps caught up, too, by an excess of alcohol, were on the dance floor again in a matter of minutes. The bride and groom began making their final rounds before they would have to change into more casual attire, because after that it was off to the limousine and away to the airport, away to a beach hotel somewhere in France. Now seemed as excellent a time as any to make a quiet exit. Jack clapped his hands together, drawing Teal'c and Daniel's attention, and pushed himself away from the table. "Well, folks," he said, "it's been fun."
Daniel raised his brow in surprise. "You're leaving already?"
He shrugged as he stood. "It's the whole merry-making thing . . ." he explained. "It's not exactly my style."
To Jack's surprise, Danny-boy rose and leaned close to say quietly, "You know, if you want to do something later . . . get really, falling-over, irresponsibly drunk . . ." Daniel saw the look on Jack's face and added, "Or, you know, whatever . . ."
He knew the archaeologist wasn't much of a drinker, so he appreciated the gesture. "Thanks, Daniel." Not to ignore Teal'c, he addressed the alien casually: "Teal'c. Pizza. My house. Next week."
Teal'c smiled and nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "Star Trek, O'Neill."
"Yeah, whatever," Jack tried to laugh. "Daniel, you can come, too."
"Thanks."
"Have a good weekend," he said.
Across the dance floor, amidst the crowd and on her husband's arm, Sam's attention was caught by the opening of a door off of the seating area, and the silhouette of a familiar figure exiting into the bright parking lot behind the building. She considered for a moment allowing the general a fast retreat, but then, the crack of sunlight narrowing as the door swung closed, she felt a familiar pressure well up in her chest, and she turned suddenly to Pete, pecked him on the cheek, explaining, "I'll be right back." Extricating herself from his arm and the crowd, she made her way to the exit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack couldn't decide which was more oppressive, the heat outside or the crowd inside. No clouds hung in the sky to offer even brief respite from the burning sunlight, and it was a small consolation that the air, though still, was at least dry. Yet hot and uncomfortable as it was, General O'Neill was forced to admit to himself that as far as weddings go, today was a good day for one.
Sunlight glinted off the parked cars, and silver railing, and concrete steps, and stucco building, and Jack was sorry he'd left his sunglasses at home.
He wondered, starting across the lot, whether he should have stayed to see her off, to wave 'so long' while she ran out the door, hand-in-hand with her new husband. . . .
No, he decided, crossing the lot, this was the right move. He'd said his goodbye already; to do so again would only be redundant. She belonged to Pete now, and at his own urging, no less. It was time to bow out gracefully.
And then he heard her voice behind him. "Three times you called me 'Sam' this afternoon," she called. "In all the years you've known me, I don't think you ever called me by my first name."
He turned, and there she was, on the landing. Part of him wished that he could be left alone - after all, he'd said all that he wanted to say, now all he wanted to do was go home and pass out on his couch. But looking at her here - here, in the dirty back lot under a glaring Colorado sun - she was everything he'd told Teal'c and Daniel she was: unbelievable, exquisite, beautiful, and more. So he was glad she'd come out back to him.
e tried to form all of this into a coherent sentence, to come up with some sort of appropriate response. Instead, he greeted dumbly, "Hey." He never had exactly been eloquent.
"It's not fair, you know," she told him plainly. "You got to say your goodbye, but you would leave without letting me say mine?" There were white flower petals in her hair. He didn't know how he could have missed that.
Jack just stood there with his hands in his pockets. She was beautiful, and she could have been his. Jacob had walked her down the aisle, but it was Jack who'd given her away. "It's not like we'll never see each other again," he said, finally. "You and Pete'll do the whole honeymoon thing, and then you'll be back and everything will go back to normal."
He was lying, of course - and she knew he was lying, but this was the game they played. He would act casual, and she would play along, as though the merest thought of something going on between them had never entered their minds; this was their status quo.
But things wouldn't go back to "normal", Sam knew. There would be fewer SG-1 dinners together between missions, fewer jokes, fewer laughs. There would be no 'them'. "I know, but it just seems . . ." she said, trying to keep it casual, for his sake, when in truth she felt terrible. Not so much for losing him, but for gaining Pete - Pete, who loved her so much and whom she loved in return - and leaving Jack once more alone.
And it wasn't fair, she thought to herself. Yes, the game was over now, and it had been wonderful while it had lasted, but she wanted more closure than he was offering: an amicable closing handshake. Well, it's been fun, thanks for the good time, but real life beckons. . . .
Looking down on him as he squinted up at her, though, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders sagging, his expression seemed one of . . . not so much one of exhaustion as one of emptiness . . . and she instantly forgave him. He'd let her go twice now: once eight months ago, and again just minutes earlier. It was all, she realized, that he could give her.
But Jack understood what she meant, that it seemed there was something unfinished between them, something left in the air. He shrugged and told her with meaning, "I know," and yet, he could think of nothing to dispel it. The best he could do was try and move forward. "So," he said, cracking a wry smirk, "I guess I'll have to start calling you 'Shanahan' now." Sam smiled a bit, as she always did with him. "It's going to be a hard transition - 'Carter' is so much easier to pronounce."
"I did like the way 'Colonel Carter' sounded," she agreed jokingly. "It had nice alliteration to it."
Another heavy moment fell between them, Jack, having said his piece, waiting patiently for Sam to work out that it was she who needed to speak next and close this door between them. To end their little game once and forever.
But the words wouldn't come. Even Sam wasn't sure if it was because she didn't know what to say, or rather because she could not bring herself to say it. "Well," she said finally, "I should probably head back inside . . ."
The general nodded. "Go. Mingle. Eat hors d'oeuvres."
Immensely disappointed, Sam turned to reenter the reception. Her fingertips brushed the warm metal of the door handle when the pressure in her chest, the one that had seemed so familiar to her earlier, suddenly swelled. All the things she'd wanted to say to O'Neill over the past eight years threatened to explode inside her, and although the time for saying them had long since past, she knew that if she ever were to say anything, it would have to be now. Once she walked through that door, her chance would be lost.
"Sir," she spun around, and found that he had not moved from his spot. But how could she put into words eight years worth of lost confessions? It came to her suddenly, and with surprising clarity. "You were wrong earlier when you said that this would be the fourth turning point in my life." She found his eyes and caught her breath. Jack looked back up at her, his head cocked ever-so-slightly to the side in mild confusion. "It's actually the fifth," she told him. "You left one out."
Jack understood then. She was referring to that day, eight months ago, when he'd found her in her lab and given her the freedom to the make the choice they both knew she had to make.
And just like that, the pressure Sam felt dissipated, and the weight of the unknown element in the air between them was likewise lifted. It was a moment she would ponder for some time in the coming years. Eventually she would realize it was her acknowledgement that, yes, there had been something between them, and it had ended eight months earlier, that had finally freed her. Presently she merely accepted the moment for what it was, and for the first time, Sam felt a pure, untainted joy for the future settle over her heart.
Jack saw it happen on her face. Saw all of her anxieties, and all that was left of whatever she felt for him, evaporate in the afternoon heat. A tear escaped down her cheek, but Jack guessed it was neither from a sense of loss nor regret. Then she smiled at him -- and it was easily the happiest he'd ever seen her.
Sam had finally let go.
Had he not already been so numb, the whole scene before him might have hit too hard.
"Thank you," she told him meaningfully.
Jack gave her a smile, hoping he didn't look or sound as dejected as he felt. "Pete's going to make you very happy."
She replied with a surety she'd never felt until now, "Yes, he will."
With a sigh, he nodded toward the building. "You should get back inside. The party's waiting."
"Yes, sir," she said with a laugh.
He took a hand from his pocket to gesture, saying, "And listen, while you're over in France - if anyone offers you something called 'escargot', don't let them trick you into eating it. It's snails."
"Thank you, sir," she laughed again, "I'll keep that in mind."
Sir. Sir. He was thinking she could have just once called him, 'Jack'. "See you in two weeks."
Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, Jack watched as Sam turned and pulled open the door behind her. The faint sounds of music and merriment wafted out into the afternoon stillness. Past her form, Jack glimpsed the reception crowd, still dancing or milling about - Daniel stood with Pete, drinks in hand, laughing over some additional anecdote. Grinning at Samantha in the doorway, Pete broke away to drag her into their conversation, and Sam, taking his hand, disappeared into the shade and crowd within. Jack stood alone on the cool pavement under the still, warm sun, looking inside.
The door swung shut.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Lt. Tara Farrago
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The End
by Lt Tara FarragoStory Bemerkung:
I wrote this some time ago, after I'd given up on the series being good anymore (c'mon, Jack behind a desk?!) and though it's not my best work, it holds a special place in my heart (partly b/c of the subject matter, and partly b/c I managed to finish it.) PLEASE SEND ME YOUR COMMENTS! If you hate it, I want to know!Site Navigation
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