Picnics and Puzzles
Picnics and Puzzles
by Denise
Summary: Eric meets the boys
Category: Drama, Romance
Season: any Season
Pairing: Sam/other
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 09/05/03
Title- Picnics and Puzzles
Author- Denise
E-mail - sky_diver119@yahoo.com
Category- Drama, Angst
Archive Anywhere but please link to the page on my own site. http://www.geocities.com/sky_diver119/ Season- 7
Spoilers - None Really, Sequel to Dumb Luck, A Chance Meeting, Reunion, Indications, Rating- PG
Content Warning- Nothing Really
Summary- Eric meets the boys
Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Sci-fi and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author
Picnics and Puzzles
By
Denise
Jack slowly made his way up the long, steep flight of steps that led to the temple, glancing over his shoulder to see Teal'c still standing watch at the end of the clearing. They were in the middle of one of those oh so boring missions, a simple planetary survey complicated by the existence of some crumbling ruins.
A couple of years ago, he would have complained about being assigned a milk run, would have dreaded spending the day on an alien planet, listening to Carter prattle, Daniel enthuse, and himself snore. Not anymore. Right now, it sorta felt good to explore for the sake of exploring.
These milk runs were the best of both worlds, pun intended. They could explore, rack up the frequent gater miles and still be home in time for a casual dinner in front of the TV.
The planet itself was rather boring. The temple and gate were located on a large plateau on the side of a mountain, three sides consisting of sharp drop-offs and the fourth a nearly sheer cliff-face going up a few hundred feet. This made it a strategically safe place to be, as long as hundreds of jaffa didn't inexplicable decide to invade this deserted planet through the Stargate and trap them.
"I've been hanging around Jacob too long," he muttered, shaking his head to banish the defeatist thoughts. He walked inside the shadowy recesses of the ancient structure, using the echoing voices of his teammates to guide his way.
"You said this was only going to take a couple of hours," he heard Carter say.
"I did...but that was before I got a good look at these carvings. Sam, this is a totally new language."
"I'm happy for you," she said. "How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long until we're done?"
"Sam, this is a new language," he said slowly. "It could take me years to figure out the syntax and translate it."
"We're due to go home in an hour," she said.
"Yeah, that won't be long enough."
"Daniel, you don't get it. We're due to go home in an hour, three hours after that, which is barely enough time to clear medical, debrief and change, I have somewhere to be."
"Sam, you can't just turn on the universal translat......wait a minute, you have somewhere to be?"
"Daniel--"
"Three hours from now....that's aah, that's eight o'clock. Where on Earth could you be going at eight o'clock on a Monday night?"
"Daniel--" she said again, her tone changing from irritation to warning.
"You've got a date," he accused. Jack peered around a corner in the temple, catching sight of the pair of them standing by a wall.
"It doesn't matter what I have. We're due back in less than an hour," she persisted.
"That won't be enough time. This is a fantastic discovery. In fact, I really should contact Earth and bring a team back. This could be very important. We should really get it translated as quickly as possible."
"Do you see this?" she asked, lifting her weapon from where it was hanging from her chest.
"Yeah."
"If we're not on our way home in an hour, I'm going to use it...on you."
Daniel stared for a few seconds, clearly taken aback. "Well, aah you know, it might be best if we came back later. I mean, this temple has been here for millennia, another day won't make a difference."
"I'm glad you see things my way," she said, smiling. "What can I do to help you pack?"
Chuckling softly to himself, Jack stepped out into the open. "Hey, kids. How's it going?"
Sam looked up. "Sir, Daniel was just getting ready to pack it in," she said, shooting him a look.
"Really?" Jack asked, stepping forward.
"Oh yeah, just about done," Daniel said.
"Mmmhm." Jack nodded, walking past them and running his fingers over the wall. "You know, this doesn't look familiar," he said. "Any idea what it says, Daniel?"
"Umm, aah, no, not really, I aah, I hadn't umm, really, umm...no, no idea," he stuttered.
Jack frowned, looking at Carter through the corner of his eye. She was gonna blow any second now. "Well, isn't that what we're here for?" Jack asked. "To translate stuff."
"Yeah, we are but, it can wait, Jack. It doesn't look that important."
"Are you sure? I mean, this little squiggle looks really important to me."
"Jack, I..."
"Sir, it is going to be dark soon," Sam said. "We don't have enough supplies to stay the night." Right on time. "Come on, Carter. You're going to let a little discomfort get in the way of some great scientific discovery?"
"No, sir. Wouldn't dream of it," she said, carefully schooling her face.
Thoroughly enjoying himself, but unable to keep it up any longer, he relented. "Relax, Carter. We'll have you home in time to do your nails before you go," he said, walking past her and patting her on the shoulder. "Pack it in, kids. Let's blow this popsicle stand," he shot over his shoulder as he left the room.
He heard Daniel laugh, the sound broken off by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. "Ow. Why'd you do that?"
"Because I can't hit him," she said.
<><><><><>
Sam helped Daniel cram his camcorder into his pack and held it up so he could clip it onto his vest. "So, what are you doing?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.
"It's Eric's birthday. We're going to go out to dinner."
"Cool. I aah...I didn't know you two were still seeing each other."
"We didn't, for a while." She shrugged. "We finally agreed that we weren't going to talk about work."
"And that works?" he asked, following her outside.
"Most of the time," she said, frowning internally at her memories of the 'rest of the time'. She started to descend the steep stone steps. It had actually taken them weeks to reach the compromise of work being a forbidden subject. It hadn't been easy at first; both of them were stinging from their respective betrayals.
Even though he said he wasn't, she knew his ego was still stinging from them taking Samuels away from him. And she knew that she still doubted his motives, despite his reassurances to the contrary. It had taken a huge fight to finally clear the air, honest words yelled in anger that made them realize that they had two choices, accept the limitations wrought by their mutual jobs, or break it off.
Their compromise was still new, they'd only started seeing each other again a month ago, which is one reason she really didn't want to break their date.
"So, what'd you get him?" Daniel asked, causing her to turn her head.
"What?"
"Did you get him anything...or are you going to be late tomorrow morning?" he asked, grinning impishly.
"You are cruising for a bruising, Jackson," she said, lunging to deliver a playful whap. Her boot came down on a loose step and she wavered, her balance thrown off. Yelping in shock, she barely had time to comprehend Daniel's shocked face before she tumbled down the stairs.
<><><><><>
Janet looked up, shaking her head slightly as three men walked into the room. It was about time. She'd expected them at least half an hour ago. "Doc?" Jack asked.
"She's fine, guys," she reassured. "A sprained ankle and a bump on the head."
"Is that a technical diagnosis?" Jack teased, his mood noticeably lightening with the good prognosis.
"It's the one I won't have to explain to you," she teased back.
"She's really ok?" Daniel asked. "She was unconscious for a little bit."
Janet nodded. "Which is why I'm keeping her overnight. Unless there's some complication, I'll release her in the morning and you guys can have fun trying to keep her on her crutches until that ankle heals."
"Oh man," Daniel groaned.
"What?"
"Her plans, tonight," he reminded.
"Major Carter had plans for her off hours?" Teal'c asked.
"Yeah," Jack said. "Don't know with whom though."
"It's Eric," Daniel said.
"It is?"
"I was not aware that they were still...timing?"
"Dating," Daniel corrected. "You know, someone should tell him."
"Why?"
"Because it's rude to stand someone up," Janet said.
Jack shrugged. "What's the big deal? Give Carter the phone and have her call him."
"She's asleep, Colonel, and likely will be for a few more hours."
Jack sighed. "I'll do it," he said, the look on his face telling her that he'd much rather be doing something else, anything else.
"You will?" Daniel asked.
"O'Neill?"
"Colonel?"
"What? It's not like Teal'c's gonna go, and you're still on duty," he said to Janet.
"I could..."
"No, Daniel. Look, what's the big deal? Ten to one, he was picking her up. I'll stop by her place, wait for him, send him on his merry way; they can take a rain check."
Janet looked to Daniel who did nothing more than to shrug helplessly.
<><><><><>
Eric parked his car, glancing at the clock on the dashboard before he turned off the ignition. Not bad, only five minutes late. He got out of the car and started to make his way up the walk, frowning as he caught sight of Colonel O'Neill sitting on her stoop. A quick glance showed that her house was dark. "What's wrong? Where's Sam?" he asked as the colonel got to his feet.
"She's ok, just had a little close encounter with some stairs," he said.
"Well, where is she?" Eric asked.
"She's in the base infirmary...where you can't go," he said as Eric started to turn around.
"What?"
"Doc's probably going to cut her loose in the morning. I imagine she'll give you a call when she gets home." He started to walk past him.
"Why can't I go see her?" Eric asked.
The colonel turned. "Excuse me?"
"Why can't I go see her?" he repeated.
"There's this nifty little thing called classified," he said.
"What's classified? Cheyenne Mountain? Got a news flash for ya, everyone knows it's there," Eric said, his irritation getting the best of him.
O'Neill walked back towards him. "You know, I would think an ex-Army Ranger would know a little something about classified and the need to keep one's mouth shut," he said, his voice low.
"So you did run my record," he said, wishing he was surprised. Hell, after their run-in in Las Vegas, he came home half expecting to find a dark sedan parked down the street from his apartment and his phone tapped.
O'Neill shrugged. "Not me personally...I hate computers."
"How much have you told Sam?"
"Nothing."
"Right."
"She doesn't even know," O'Neill said. "And she's not gonna know. Look, what's between you two, is between you two. It's not my concern. It becomes my concern if it starts to affect her job."
"Is that a threat?" Eric asked, bristling at the man's tone.
O'Neill shook his head. "I don't waste time with threats." He turned on his heel. "Like I said, she'll be home tomorrow. I'm sure she'll give you a call," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked back down the path. Eric watched him climb up into a large green truck and drive away; maybe gunning the engine a little more than was wise.
He stood there for a few minutes, feeling incredibly stupid standing in the gathering dark on the stoop of an empty house. He finally made his way back to his car and got in, driving off at a more sedate pace than the colonel.
<><><><><>
Sam barely waited for Daniel to put his car into park before she was opening the car door, still trying to figure out how to get herself and her crutches out of the car at the same time. "I'll get them," he offered, solving her dilemma.
"Thanks," she said, concentrating on getting out of the car, balancing on her good, right foot. Oh god, she was sore. She knew she had bruises all over, some of them bad enough that Janet had been slightly concerned.
Fortunately, her pack had taken a good portion of the fall although she did have a lovely goose egg on her head.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than a nice, long, hot bath to ease some of her stiff muscles and to curl up in bed for a day or two.
"Here," Daniel said, holding her crutches out to her. She smiled her thanks and put them under her arms, quickly finding her balance. "You know, Janet said you probably shouldn't be alone," he said, grabbing her bag and walking behind her.
"Daniel, I'll be fine," she said, really not wanting to have him around. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his offer, but that she just wanted to be alone to wallow in her misery, instead of feeling guilty at not playing hostess or at keeping him from his work.
"You sure? I mean, umm, well..."
"Daniel, I'm a big girl," she said. "Besides, it's just a sprained ankle and..." Her voice trailed off as her front door opened, and Eric stepped out onto her stoop. "Daniel?"
"I sorta swiped his number out of your PDA," he confessed. "Oh, Jack just told him that you fell down some stairs," he said softly as Eric walked towards her.
"Sam, are you ok?" he asked.
"My pride took more of a beating than I did," she said as Daniel handed her bag over to Eric.
"I'll bully Jack into helping me get your car back later," Daniel said, turning and heading back towards his car.
"Thanks, Daniel," Eric said, standing back to let Sam limp up the steps. He drove off as Sam entered her house. She could sense Eric hovering as she made her way to the sofa, gratefully sinking down onto the cushions.
"That looks like it hurts," he said, sitting down beside her.
"It's just a sprain," Sam dismissed, raising her leg while he grabbed a throw pillow and leaned forward, helping her to prop her leg up.
"And this?" he pushed aside her hair, revealing a colorful bruise on her temple.
"Why I got to spend the night in the infirmary last night," she explained, closing her eyes and leaning back against the cushions. "I guess I blacked out for a couple of minutes."
"You're ok now?"
"Yeah, little sore but, nothing time won't fix."
"Good, good."
"I'm sorry about last night," she said, opening her eyes. "I wanted to call you but Janet gave me something that knocked me out. I think I woke up about 0200."
"It's ok. Colonel O'Neill let me know."
"He did what?"
"He let me know that you weren't going to make it."
She frowned, looking at him. "He didn't...do anything, did he?"
"Nothing to write home about," he dismissed. "How about a bath?" he suggested, abruptly changing the subject.
"What?"
"Nothing helps sore muscles better than a nice hot bath," he said, getting to his feet. He looked to his watch. "It's almost eleven. While you bathe, I can cook some lunch and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day."
Not in the mood to argue, and thoroughly enjoying the prospect of some pampering, she let the conversation drop, instead nodding her ascent. He helped her to her feet, then surprised her by abandoning the crutches, instead picking her up in his arms. "You goof," she complained. "I'm too heavy for you to be lugging me around."
"Quit your whining," he teased, carrying her into the bathroom. He set her down on the toilet and started the bath water. "What do you want? Sweats?"
"Yeah," she said, bending over to untie the one shoe she was wearing. "In the chest of drawers. Underwear's in the top drawer. I should have a pair of sweats and a t-shirt lying on the bed."
He nodded and left the room while she worked on getting undressed, discovering more sore muscles while she twisted around. He came back in a minute with the sweats she'd been using for pajamas. "You need some help?" he offered.
"I'll be ok," she said.
"Ok. I'll go see what I can find for lunch. Don't lock the door," he said, pulling it closed behind him.
Taking off the last of her clothes, she hobbled over to the bathtub and carefully sank into the steaming water. Propping her ankle up on the edge, she leaned back, sighing as the soothing warmth sank into her bones.
<><><><><>
Eric listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom, waiting to know that Sam was getting out of the tub before he started the last part of lunch. He'd found a can of tomato soup and the makings for grilled cheese sandwiches in her refrigerator and had heated the soup up while she bathed.
Hearing the water drain, he walked to the bathroom, grabbing her crutches along the way. "You hungry?" he asked.
"Starved," she said, awkwardly opening the door. He handed her the crutches and stepped back, allowing her to precede him down the short hall. She made her way into her small kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs, propping her crutches at her side. "Smells good."
"Tomato soup and grilled cheese, good for what ails ya," he said, buttering the bread and putting it in the pan to toast. "Do you need any drugs?"
She shook her head. "Just over the counter. I took some in the bathroom." She took a sip of the diet coke he'd set out for her. "I should be pleasantly buzzed in about half an hour."
He served up the soup and sandwiches and joined her at the table. "How long are you off?" he asked, sipping the soup.
She shrugged. "Few days. I could probably go back next week if I wanted to."
"Think you'll be up for a picnic this weekend?" he asked.
"What picnic?" Sam asked.
"Daniel told me about it when he called this morning. Your aah, General Hammond, is having a Labor Day cookout this weekend. Daniel said we're invited if you feel like it."
"Oh, yeah, that," she said, her tone far from enthusiastic.
"What?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. I just...didn't even know if I was going or not."
He shrugged. "It's not for a couple of days. Plenty of time," he said, wondering about the true reason for her reticence. Did she not want to go to some social event...or did she not want to go with him to a social event?
<><><><><>
George laid the last of the hamburgers on the grill and reached for the salt and pepper, movement around the side of the house catching his eyes. He watched Sam Carter limp her way into his backyard, escorted by Eric Anderson, barely recognizing the man from the picture in his file. "They're still seeing each other?" he asked Jack.
"Looks like it," he answered, handing the general a beer.
"They look good together," George said as Eric escorted Sam to a chair before pulling another one over to sit beside her.
"They do. Carter seems to like him."
"He came up clean," George said softly as Teal'c and Daniel joined the pair. "He does contract work for an old friend of mine. Not exactly above board, but nothing too horribly illegal either."
"I know," Jack said.
"You don't sound too thrilled, Jack," he said, flipping a couple of the burgers over.
"How many times did you lie to your wife?"
"What?"
"Sara and I were married for fifteen years. I did classified stuff for about half that, let's say two dozen missions a year...sometimes more. After a few months, she stopped asking what I did, out loud anyway, but it was still there. She'd still look at me, wanting to know, but knew that she couldn't even ask."
George sighed, taking a slug of his beer. "It's never easy," George said, remembering his own lies, lies he was even now telling to a third generation. Pretty soon Kayla and Tessa were going to be old enough to not simply accept 'Grandpa has to work late' as a valid excuse. Eventually they were going to ask him questions that he couldn't answer.
"Yeah," Jack said, nodding to George before walking away and joining the rest.
"I didn't know you were going to make it," Daniel said as he and Teal'c joined Sam and Eric. The barbeque was a small affaire, just SG-1 although Janet and Cassie were due to join them later. Years ago, it used to be an open gathering for all the SG teams, but once those teams got above nine in number, it just started to get to be way too big for General Hammond's back yard to handle.
He moved it to the SGC, allowing the cooks to get creative and serve cook out style food for those that have to work and turning his own gathering into more of one of friends than a facility wide celebration. The invitation was always there for anyone to bring a guest, but Sam was the first one to actually do that, something which likely accounted for the less than enthusiastic expression on her face.
She shrugged. "Eric talked me into it."
"I am pleased to see you are feeling better, Major Carter," Teal'c said.
"Thanks...Murray," she said, making an apologetic face. She knew exactly how much Teal'c hated the moniker Jack had dubbed him with.
Conversation faded and they sat there for a few seconds. "So, aah, Sam said you work with TV stations," Daniel said, trying to find something they could talk about in front of him.
Eric looked at her and frowned. "Yeah, I do," he answered. "Columbine. It's a program the stations use to manage their commercials."
"That sounds interesting," Daniel said, turning his head as Jack walked towards them, stopping to snag a couple of bottles of beer from the cooler.
"It has its moments," Eric said, looking up as a brown bottle appeared in front of his face.
"Beer?" Jack offered.
"Thanks."
"Thank you, sir," Sam said.
"What has its moments?" Jack asked, snagging a chair.
"Eric was just telling us about his job, working with TV stations," Daniel explained.
"It sounds like a most interesting occupation," Teal'c said.
"So, Sam never did tell me, what do you guys do? Do you lecture with her at the academy?"
The three men looked at each other. "Jack has," Daniel said. "We've all worked with the cadets, once or twice. I'm a doctor of archaeology and Murray..."
"I instruct the students in the art of self-defense," Teal'c said, finishing the last of his can of soda. He crushed the can in his hands, staring at Eric while he did so. "I shall see if General Hammond requires any assistance."
"So, doctor of archaeology?" Eric said, shooting Teal'c a wary look as he walked away. "You know, I was in Cambodia a while back. Have you ever seen the ruins there?"
Sam listened to them talk, the tension fading as they found common ground in past experiences. She shot Jack a warning look, hoping to forestall any more testosterone laden displays. He merely shrugged and leaned back in the chair, crossing his long legs in front of him.
<><><><><>
Sam limped into her house, balancing on the crutches to flip on a light. Hearing Eric behind her and trusting him to lock the door, she continued into the living room, gratefully plopping down on the couch. They'd stayed longer than she'd planned, her original thought being to stay long enough to be polite, eat dinner and then use her ankle as a good excuse to leave early.
However, it seemed the guys had other ideas, first Daniel, then, after she'd arrived, Janet engaging Eric in conversation and before Sam knew it, the sun was setting. The gathering darkness was a perfect excuse and they'd made their excuses, leaving just as the rest of the gathering was breaking up.
"That was fun," Eric said, sitting beside her on the couch.
"God, I'm sorry," she said, leaning into him.
"Sorry for what?"
"How many times did Murray sneak up behind you?" she asked, cringing in memory of her friends' behavior. Teal'c had been the most overt, his Jaffa intimidation causing even Hammond to frown once or twice.
He chuckled. "I thought it was sorta funny."
"Funny? It's embarrassing. I half expected him to start beating on his chest or something."
"That would have been fun to watch," he quipped. She punched him playfully in the side. "I like your friends. I think the two doctors would make a cute couple. And it really wasn't that bad," he said. "Although if looks could kill, O'Neill would have another notch in his belt."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Nothing."
"Eric?"
"No, look, it's nothing," he dismissed. He squinted, catching the time on her VCR. "I gotta go," he said, pushing up from the couch.
"Why? It's early, relatively speaking."
"Yeah, but I have a flight at nine am."
"I thought you were taking time off?" she asked, sitting forward.
"I was. I did. But I need to go take care of something. I'll call you when I get back," he promised, leaning in and giving her a kiss.
"Take care," she said as he pulled back.
"You too. Don't forget to lock the door."
Sam listened to him leave then got to her feet, carefully hobbling along without her crutches. She looked out the window as he drove away, and then threw the deadbolt on the door. She sighed, turning and slowly making her way back to her bedroom, contemplating whether or not to try and make it into work in the morning and play catch up.
<><><><><>
Eric drove through the darkened streets, his mind more on the events of the day than his driving. Ever since he met them in Nevada, he'd been wondering what Sam's friends were really like; beyond the facts and figures he'd managed to dig up on his own.
Whitlow had, for once, been a total lack of help, refusing to tell him anything beyond 'There's classified, and classified, Eric. This is the kinda stuff the Joint Chiefs debate whether or not to tell the President about,'.
Armed with names, Eric had done his own digging, and managed to come up with not much. Murray didn't exist at all, and other than a few gloriously vague commendations on their records and the inexplicable awarding of the Air Medal, both Sam's and O'Neill's service records seemed to end the day they were assigned to Cheyenne Mountain.
Lacking a service record, he'd run Daniel Jackson's credit history, and found even stranger things, not the least of which were two year long periods of absolutely no activity. It was almost like the guy just ceased to exist for months at a time.
Instead of satisfying his curiosity, what little he'd found out only served to pique his interest. What in the hell was going on inside that mountain? Weapons research? That didn't make any sense. What did they need an astrophysicist for if it was weapons research? Or an archaeologist for that matter. He shook his head. That made even less sense.
Forcing himself to concentrate on his impending mission, he set aside thoughts of solving the mystery. He'd figure it out, eventually. All it'd take is asking the right question to the right person at the right time.
<><><><><>
Jack whistled between his teeth as he walked down the hall the light coming from a lab making him pause. He paused in the doorway, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Sam leaning over her work bench. "Carter," he said. "What are you still doing here?"
"Sir?" She looked up.
"It's 1900 on a Friday night. Why aren't you out...side somewhere?" he asked, walking into the room.
"Because I have this to do," she said, motioning towards the slightly dissected piece of...something spread out on the work table.
He leaned against her work bench, picking up what looked to be a nice harmless bit of metal. "I mean, why aren't you and Eric out doing something?"
She smiled. "He's out of town."
He frowned. "He's been out of town for a while, hasn't he?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "About a month now," she said, her tone going distinctly worried.
"I'm sure he's fine," Jack said.
"Me too," she said, obviously forcing false optimism into her voice.
Jack set down the bit of metal. "Go home soon," he said.
"I was going to go home in about an hour or so."
"Do that. Don't make me sic Teal'c on you," he threatened. "I'll see you Monday."
"Good night, sir."
<><><><><>
The next morning, Sam walked barefoot outside to get her paper. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the sky was clear and she could already see some of the neighborhood kids playing across the street. It would be a perfect day for a bike ride, she thought, making her way back to her house.
She heard a car pull up, and she turned around, frowning when she recognized it. She watched General Hammond get out of the car and walk up her sidewalk. "General Hammond. What aah, what brings you here?" she asked, crossing her arms and holding her paper over her chest, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pajamas.
"Good morning," he said. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," she said, stepping back and motioning for him to go inside.
She followed, setting the paper down on the hall table. "Did you want some coffee?"
"Thanks," he said, continuing into the kitchen. She poured them both a mug and joined him at the table. "A couple of hours ago I got a phone call from a friend of mine," he said seriously. "Two weeks ago, Eric missed a contact time with his employer."
His quiet words hit her like a sledge hammer to the chest. "Where?"
He shook his head. "He couldn't tell me." He reached out and put his hand over hers. "They've looked for him, and they'll keep looking for him."
She closed her eyes. "Whatever he was doing, it wasn't official, was it?"
"No. It wasn't illegal but...it wasn't sanctioned either."
She opened her eyes. "So, if he's still alive, he's on his own?" He nodded. She looked down at her hands, wrapped unfeelingly around a coffee mug.
"I'm sorry, Sam," he said sincerely. "I wish I could tell you more, but that's all I know."
"I understand, sir. Thank you," she replied automatically.
He got up, pushing back the chair. "You're off until Monday. If you need some more time, just let me know." She nodded. "I'll let myself out," he said. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." Still in shock, she just nodded again, barely noticing him as he left the house, shutting the door behind him.
Two hours later she was on her bike, speeding down Interstate 25. She drove on autopilot, her mind thousands of miles away, maybe more. Where could he be? She remembered him talking to Daniel not only about Cambodia, but also places in South America and Africa. He'd been all over the world. He could literally be anywhere.
She knew she was lucky that she even knew he was missing. She wasn't his next of kin or anything...hell, legally she was nothing. If it wasn't for her contacts, she'd never even know. She'd probably just go to his apartment and find it cleared out, with no indication of why.
Right now, she regretted never pushing him about his work. She regretted not knowing more, regretted that she might never know any more.
Pushing her regrets behind her, she gunned the engine, accelerating past the speed limit and not caring as the scenery became a golden blur.
It was late afternoon when she arrived at her destination. She pulled her bike off the road and took off her helmet, frowning at the dark skies and chill air. So much for her nice day, she thought as she focused on the storm clouds gathering. It'd be raining soon, or maybe even snowing, it was certainly getting cold enough all of a sudden.
Hiking up the incline, she looked around for the first time in hours. It looked almost like it did the first time she was here. The leaves were thinner, just a few stubborn ones clinging to the pin oaks, not quite ready to surrender to winter's inexorable grasp.
Other leaves fluttered around her feet, pushed about by the gathering wind as she walked. She finally reached the ruin, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. She looked around, searching for some sign left from the last time they'd been here, but there was nothing, a year's worth of weather being enough to erase any indication that they'd ever been there.
She sank to her knees, not feeling the loose gravel as the first drops of cold rain began to fall. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the coin, rubbing the cold metal between her fingers. She stared at the face on it, the image of a person long dead, but not forgotten. They'd never be forgotten, not as long as this coin existed.
How many people had held this in their hands? How many dreams had it bought? How many lives had this little bit of precious metal changed?
It was a fantasy, the stuff of fairy tales and children's books. She should know by now that fantasies never happen, and dreams...dreams rarely came true.
Hopes and dreams were for the young and nave...the rest lived in reality. And reality had little tolerance for fantasy.
With one cold, wet hand, she dug a small hole in the gravel, gently kissing the coin before placing it in its grave, returning it from whence it came with a quick brush of her hand.
For a few minutes she sat there, hot tears mingling with cold rain, then she got to her feet and turned around. Without looking back, she crammed her helmet on her head and grabbed her bike, pushing it to the roadside.
With a throaty roar, the bike drove off into the gathering darkness, leaving only silence in its wake.
~Fin~
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Denise
Heliopolis Main Archive
A Stargate: SG-1 Fanfiction Site
Picnics and Puzzles
by DeniseSite Navigation
Support Heliopolis