It was really the end of February. But Jack had insisted on celebrating Christmas during Sam's next leave, no matter how many times she'd told him that the small celebration on Atlantis had been sufficient. So they were at the cabin, with the tackiest Christmas tree Sam had ever seen, and Sam was willing to play along.
Part of Jack's plan had already gone awry. With storms blanketing the Rockies and the upper Midwest for the past two days, their friends were stuck in Colorado and Cassie's flight to Minneapolis had been canceled. Sam missed Cassie -- she'd seen the others when she'd arrived on Earth four days ago -- but more time alone with Jack was never a bad thing.
Tonight they were playing chess by the fire, each of them wrapped in a blanket because he habitually kept the thermostat at 60. Two half-full, now cold mugs of hot chocolate sat next to the chessboard, and a DVD of A Christmas Story was on the TV as background music. In the corner, the multicolored tree lights blinked at irregular intervals that would have driven Sam crazy in her own house.
"Wind's dying down," Jack said.
Sam looked up from the board and squinted into the darkness of the closest window. It was no longer being pummeled by snow. "Huh," she said, and went back to contemplating her move.
Jack stood and walked to the window, cupping his hands around his face so he could see out. "The snow's stopped, too."
At that moment, the electricity went out.
"Oh, I should have seen that coming," Jack said.
Sam laughed in the dark. She heard Jack shuffle to the door and tug on his boots. He kept an emergency generator around the side of the house, and they needed it frequently during the winter.
"Be right back," he said. Cold air burst in as he shut the door behind him.
She found the door and her boots by touch. She was already wearing a wool sweater and socks, long johns and jeans, so she didn't reach for her parka but kept the blanket instead.
The snow was powdery and as high as her knees, and the sky was clearing. She could see a few stars.
The generator roared to life. Seconds later Jack came to stand behind her on the deck, wrapping one arm around her waist. With the other he pointed into the sky, towards Atlantis.
"That way, right?"
Sam smiled. She leaned back into his chest; he wrapped his gloved hands around her bare ones.
"Yes, but I wasn't looking there," she said. "I was looking at the trees."
They were little more than dark shapes, across the pond. When she and Jack had hiked into the woods on his property to chop down a tree, Sam had touched the trees as she walked. She'd rubbed the bark with her fingers and inhaled the scent of evergreens.
As silly as she'd thought Jack's Christmas in February was, it was a rare gift, these days, to smell pine in her sleep.
Now she breathed in the bitter air and the smell of snow. She squeezed his fingers. "It's getting late," she said. "We should go to bed. Save some fuel."
Jack chuckled by her ear. "Subtle," he said.
"Don't ruin the moment," she said.
He chuckled again as they went inside to stamp off the snow.
Thanks for reading!