A Chance Meeting
A Chance Meeting
by Denise
Summary: Not being 'one of the guys' leads Sam down a road of discovery
Category: Drama, Romance
Season: Season 6
Pairing: Sam/other
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: sexual situations
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: 07/08/03
Title- A Chance Meeting
Author- Denise
E-mail - sky_diver119@yahoo.com
Category- Drama
Archive Anywhere but please link to the page on my own site. http://www.geocities.com/sky_diver119/drama/chance.htm Season- 6
Spoilers - Full Circle, Hathor, Emancipation, Desperate Measures, Metamorphosis, Ascension, Legacy Rating- PG-13
Content Warning- Some sexual content, nothing graphic at all Summary- If you're not 'one of the guys'...how do you fit in? 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 ## - indicate italics/flashbacks
A Chance Meeting
By
Denise
Something was bothering Sam. She didn't quite know what it was, but it'd been lingering in the back of her mind ever since their return from Abydos.
Something like that nagging feeling that sits in the pit of your stomach when you've forgotten something and it'd go away if you could just remember what you'd forgotten.
She knew this accounted for her edginess lately, her short temper with the rest of her team, the extreme agitation she felt when she'd walk into the cafeteria and see them all sitting together, talking or more accurately, Jonas talking with Teal'c commentating and the colonel grunting.
She couldn't think up a reason for her irritation. The boys hanging together was nothing new, they'd been doing it for years. The faces may have changed, along with what they did, but the basic fact was that the guys still hung together.
Or maybe that was what was bugging her. They did hang together. The colonel, Teal'c and lately even Jonas, went places together. Sometimes, she knew it was just the colonel chaperoning, but other times she knew he was the instigator of their little field trips, dragging them along to keep him company.
They rarely invited her anymore.
Maybe she'd turned them down too many times over the years and they thought she'd rather not spend time with them. Or maybe they just didn't care, maybe after all these years she was still 'the girl'.
Whatever the reason, they'd done it again. Soon after their return from what was now their last trip to Abydos ever, the boys had vanished, leaving yesterday for parts unknown, or Denver, whichever they found first.
In a burst of restlessness and suddenly not in the mood to dissect SG-6's latest find, she soon found herself in Hammond's office, requesting leave.
Not surprisingly, he granted it and two hours later she was southbound on I-25, astride her Harley and with no more cares than how far she could go before she had to stop for gas, or was too tired to keep driving.
She reveled in the freedom of being on the open road, the complete and utter lack of responsibility beyond taking care of herself. The engine thrummed between her legs and she gunned the motor, grinning with the surge of adrenaline the rush of speed and power gave her.
She could feel the wind on her hands, the soothing warmth of the sun soaking into her leather jacket and jeans. Unlike some, she'd never rigged her bike for a radio; she didn't want the distraction of any other sound but the steady drone of the bike and the wind when she was riding.
By the time she reached the traffic jam, she didn't even care as she slowed, then stopped, the divided four-lane highway more resembling a parking lot than a major though-fare. A jack-knifed cattle truck was the rumor she heard from passing motorists, no fatalities other than the bovine kind, but still enough of a mess to keep the interstate closed for at least another hour or two.
A couple of kindly highway patrol troopers were directing people to turn around, back to Colorado Springs and an alternative route. Sam declined, instead taking advantage of her transportation's versatility and taking the bike off the road, finding a shady spot under a large conifer tree and lying down, willing to patiently wait out the closure of the road so she could continue upon her trip to...wherever she was going.
##
She knelt beside Janet, helping her scoop black goo into a test tube. Technically the doctor wasn't even supposed to be on duty, but there was no one else to do it, not before the clean up crew arrived in an hour to thoroughly clean and sanitize the locker room.
She heard footsteps and looked up, seeing the rest of her team standing in the doorway, dressed in civilian clothes.
"Did you find anything?" O'Neill asked.
"Probably nothing we can use," Janet answered. "Maybe we'll at least get a cellular level analysis on the Goa'uld's, maybe even find some DNA information."
"A lot of that will probably be mine," Daniel admitted grudgingly, confirming what she'd expected. Janet had been professionally closed mouthed about the whole ordeal, other than making a comment that the goa'uld seemed to protect its host from all sorts of diseases, even those of the sexual kind.
"Ewwe." O'Neill made a face, indicating his disgust. Yeah, she was disgusted too. Banging a goa'uld, that was one to go down in the record books.
General Hammond walked in behind them and Sam got to her feet, unable to deny the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If Daniel's tryst with Hathor was well known, then so was her assault on the General. Things like that got officers time in Leavenworth at hard labor...she sort of hoped defeating the goa'uld would buy her some leniency, maybe just time off without pay or something like that.
"Yeah," Daniel confirmed, not seeing the general's arrival.
"General Hammond, sir," Sam said, trying to keep her voice from shaking too much. Great, the day of reckoning, and it had to be public. Fantastic.
"At ease, Captain. At ease, Doctor," the older man said.
"Thank you, sir. About your head, I'd like to explain that if I could," Sam stuttered, giving into the need to forestall his complaint. Maybe she could convince him that it wasn't that bad. Doctor Fraiser had said it was just a mild concussion, nothing serious.
"Captain, I'm putting you and Doctor Fraiser up for a commendation medal," he said.
"Well, thank you, sir, but I can explain... You are?" she said, her mind finally catching up with her mouth.
"If you hadn't kept your wits about you and done whatever was necessary we could have put this entire planet at risk. Good job, ladies," he congratulated.
"Thank you, sir," she said, shooting the doctor a quick look. This was a surprise. Maybe she'd hit him harder than she thought...then again she sure as hell wasn't going to complain. A commendation beat suspension.
"Well, that's all," he said, obviously not comfortable. He turned and left the room.
"Nice job," O'Neill congratulated.
"Yeah," Daniel agreed.
Sam smiled and nodded, simply looking to Janet as they left.
They left.
She and Janet saved the base almost single handedly and they left. It didn't matter that 'the girls' had done it, with Teal'c's help; they still weren't good enough to socialize with. The doctor sighed knowingly and knelt back down, intent upon finishing her task. "You know what I have in my fridge?" she said after a second.
"What?" Sam asked, trying not to show how much it hurt when they just walked out. Maybe they'd be back.
"A bottle of champagne left over from New Years. I got called in," she explained. "How about if we finish up here and go over to my place and see if we can put it out of its misery," she invited.
Sam looked towards the door, her heart lurching when someone walked by...only to fall when she recognized Sergeant Siler. "Sure," she said, recognizing the obvious. They weren't coming back. "It sounds like fun." She forced a smile onto her face. ##
A shadow fell across her face and she opened her eyes, half expecting some cop to be harassing her for sleeping by the roadside. Raising her hand to hide the glare she looked up, surprised to find a man standing over her. He was similarly attired, faded jeans covering long legs, his feet shod in worn boots. A t-shirt and denim jacket completed the ensemble. "I like you idea. Mind if I share the shade?" he asked, raising dark glasses to reveal warm hazel eyes.
"It's a free highway," she answered, waving with her hand.
He sat down and leaned back, stretching out his legs with a sigh. "You from around here or just passing through?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Both," she answered.
"Ooh, woman of mystery," he teased, making her smile. "Lemme guess, spring break?"
She looked at him, pulling down her sunglasses so she could look over them. "Ok," he said. "Not that then. Running away from home? Is there a husband or boyfriend up the road I should know about?" She held up her bare left hand, wiggling the fingers. "That doesn't mean much, although the lack of a tan line is a good thing. Come on, throw me a bone here?" he begged.
"No husband, no boyfriend," she said, lying back in the grass. "I'm just...riding."
"It looks more like sitting to me."
She laughed. "You're one to talk."
"True," he shrugged. "Seriously though, where are you headed?"
"Wherever I end up," she answered. "Really. I'm on vacation," she declared.
"Hey, so am I." He held out his hand. "Eric, Eric Anderson," he introduced.
"Sam Carter," she answered.
"Samantha?"
"Sam," she insisted.
"Sam it is then," he agreed.
They talked for another hour, until the road ahead was clear and traffic was again moving. Finally noticing that the sun was soon to set, they got on their respective bikes and rode south, continuing until well after night fall, finally pulling over in Trinidad.
Choosing a restaurant, they parked their bikes and walked in, relieved to find that it was a casual place, one with deep vinyl booths and heavy wood tables. They sat down, each ordering a beer to go with their chicken fried steaks. "So, what are you on vacation from?" he asked as the waitress delivered the salad that came with their meal.
"I aah, I lecture at the Air Force Academy," she said, taking refuge in the white lie. Technically she wasn't lying, she did lecture upon occasion.
"Ooh, a teacher," he teased. "I didn't know motorcycle riding was a course they taught cadets."
Sam laughed. "Not usually. Astrophysics," she said, steeling herself for the 'oh crap' look.
To her surprise he frowned for a second then smiled. "Pshew. For a minute there I thought you said astrology and I wondered what they're teaching kids these days."
Despite herself, she laughed. "How about you?"
"I'm a software designer for Columbine. We provide software for TV stations," he said, nodding to the waitress as she took their salad plates, promising to return with their dinners in a few minutes.
"Really? What kind of software?"
"It's for TV Traffic, the scheduling of commercials and the such. We've been in the business for years, so at times it's hard to integrate our stuff with the changing technology. Which is where I come in. I get to travel around the country making things work and keeping computers talking to each other."
The waitress arrived and Sam leaned back letting her set the plate of steaming food in front of her. "Wow, that's..."
"Boring," he interrupted, doing the same.
Sam shook her head. "No. Just not something I ever thought about. I mean it stands to reason that there would have to be some sort of system to getting commercials on the air, but I've just never...I mean, you turn the TV on, you watch the show-"
"And hate the commercials."
"Pretty much," she agreed, picking up the steak knife and cutting into the thick gravy smothered steak. Scooping up some mashed potatoes, she speared a piece of steak, managing to get the whole mess to her mouth without dripping cream gravy down her front.
He shrugged. "Hey, I hate them too. They just happen to pay my rent, which is a nice thing."
Conversation dwindled as the both applied themselves to their food. The chicken fried steak was delicious, a thin tenderized steak breaded and fried to a crispy brown. It was covered with a thick white pepper-speckled gravy and complimented with real mashed potatoes and fresh green beans.
The food was filling, and heavier than what Sam usually ate, but also extremely satisfying. It was her father's favorite dish, and one her mom used to make on his first night home. In her mind, it was a dish she associated with homecoming and happy endings. So it was a dish she deemed comfort food, something that it was hard for restaurants to mess up and one item she could usually find on the menu no matter where she was stationed.
Their meal finished, Sam snagged the homemade roll off her plate and pulled it apart, dipping it into soft honey butter, letting the sweetness serve as dessert. "So what are your plans for the night?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe poke around tomorrow, do a little sight seeing."
"Would you like some company?" he asked. "I mean, I know we met like..." He looked at his watch. "Six hours ago, but...I'd like to spend some time with you."
Sam stopped and thought, her initial instinct was to play it safe, politely decline his invitation and go off on her own. But she was tired of playing it safe. What had that gotten her, really? An empty house and non-existent social life. "Ok," she said as the waitress brought the check. Both of them reached for it and he gently tugged it away from her.
"I stole your shade," he said, reaching for his wallet.
"Eric, there's no need."
"Think of it this way," he said, standing up. "If I hadn't met you I'd have settled for a fast food taco and be up all night with heartburn. A good night's sleep is worth it."
Not wanting to make a scene, she acquiesced, going outside while he settled up. She zipped up her jacket in defense from the chill night air. A few minutes later he came out, also zipping up his coat.
Feeling the need to set some boundaries, she looked up the road, noting a Motel 6 sign in the distance, with a Krispy Kreme right beside it. "Thank you for dinner," she said, getting on her bike and reaching for her helmet.
"Sam?"
"0800 at the Krispy Kreme," she said. "I'll buy breakfast." She revved the engine and peeled out of the lot, smiling widely behind the visor of her helmet as she roared down the street, leaving him behind.
<><><><><>
##
The guys walked into the tent and she watched as they reverted to Neanderthals. Any other time, she'd have been flattered, at the moment she was torn between discomfort and disgust.
"Daniel, find me an anthropologist that dresses like this and I will eat this head dress," she complained, feeling the need to get in the first word.
"You are...the most beautiful women I have ever seen," Abu enthused, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. She felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny, and it wasn't helped by the looks on the guys' faces.
"Uh, I guess the kid doesn't get out much. Look uh, I will not wear this thing over my face," she said as the boy left. She picked up the scarf, trying to demonstrate it. "I don't care how much embroidery it has on it. And this dress, or whatever it's called, I mean I can't move, I can't walk."
"I don't know, It...It kind of works for me," O'Neill finally stuttered.
"It's, it's you, it's..."
"It's you."
"Defiantly you," Daniel agreed with Teal'c staying mercifully silent. "Uh, uh the good news is, uh you were right. One of Abu's plants seems to work as an anesthetic. Were taking some home to get it, uh, a-analyzed," Daniel continued.
"All things considered, Samantha, if we have to come back here, it might be a better idea to bring an all male team. No offence," Colonel O'Neill said, at least making an attempt to be contrite.
"Well, in view of the fact that you all get to go to this party tonight and I get to stay in the yurt that smells like rancid yak butter none taken. I'll just get a good nights sleep, and hope for better luck next time," she said, knowing that there really was no other option, short of hiking, in the dark, back to the gate. Which would make their mission a bust...because of her. Nope, not something she wanted going down on her record.
The boys turned to leave, Daniel and Teal'c going first with O'Neill following them. At the tent flap he turned back. "You going to be alright?" he asked, his voice sincere and slightly apologetic, neatly defusing her growing irritation. It wasn't his fault, not totally anyway. He couldn't help the culture, no more than her CO in Iraq could fight the cultural restrictions for female personnel ten years ago.
"Still doubting me? I haven't been afraid of the dark since I was two," she said, trying to make light of the situation.
"You look great," he said, the closest to an apology she was likely to get. She watched him go then turned a 360, studying her surroundings for the first time. As prisons went, this one was certainly comfortable.
Sitting down on a pillow, she reached for her pack, feeling the need to keep her possessions close to her. If it wasn't so bulky and weren't for the battery issue, she wished she could have brought her laptop, at least then she'd have had something to do.
Digging in her pack, she found a familiar square shape. Drawing out the cards, she pulled her legs in, not caring if cross-legged was the appropriate way to sit in a dress or not...it wasn't like anyone was going to be seeing her anyway.
"Ok, Sam," she muttered. "Let's see how many kinds of solitaire you know."
Three hours later she knew the answer to that question. Ten kinds. Or at least ten kinds where she didn't think she was cheating too badly. There was a loud series of whoops from outside and she got up, taking a moment to stretch before making her way to the tent flap, carefully looking around it without being seen. She could see them walking around, food and drink flowing freely.
This sucked. It really sucked. She'd spent the last ten years working and training and knew just as much as they did, more in some cases, and here she was, segregated just because of her gender.
Part of her understood it. They were the aliens here, the visitors and it was up to them to fit in with the locals. But there was another part of her that was pissed as hell at the boys for giving in. Would they have acquiesced so quickly had it been THEM wearing the dress and locked in the tent? She did not think so.
And none of them even protested. That's what irked her. There wasn't even a token 'no, she stays with us' moment. It was almost like they were glad to get rid of her. ##
The slamming of her neighbor's door woke Sam and she lay in bed for a few minutes, rolling over to shield her eyes from the light spilling in around the worn curtains. This was why she'd bought a house...her work hours and sleep patterns were too crazy to easily tolerate neighbors being just a wall away.
She contemplated staying in bed for a while, sleeping in was a luxury she rarely indulged in. 0800 at Krispy Kreme. "Crap," she muttered, rolling to see the clock. 0700. She sighed and sat up, running her fingers through her tousled hair. Should she meet him?
She didn't have to. She could just check out and hit the highway. With luck she could be ten or twenty miles down the road before he realized she was standing him up. That would be the smart thing to do. Or would it? Hell, it wasn't like she was agreeing to move in with the guy or anything. It was sightseeing, lunch and maybe dinner then....then who knows?
Exactly. Who knows? Who knows what they'll do today or how it will turn out.
She made her living stepping off into the unknown. Hell, if she could walk through a stargate and explore alien planets on a nearly daily basis, she could sight see with a near total stranger.
Buoyed with unaccustomed enthusiasm, she got out of bed and made her way to the shower, regretting for a second that she'd packed to be alone, not to be in the company of a man, and a nice man at that.
<><><><><>
He roared into the Krispy Kreme ten minutes behind her, but still five minutes early. He parked next to her and took off his metallic blue helmet, hanging it on the bike. "Morning," he said cheerfully.
"Morning," she replied, pushing her sun glasses up to the top of her head. Like her, he seemed to be packing light, his outfit much like yesterday's, jeans and a t-shirt. His short hair was damp, making it darker than the light brown/dark blonde it was last night.
"Do they have any left?" he asked, swinging his long leg over his bike.
"Probably," she answered, falling into step beside him. They entered the shop and ordered their breakfasts, two donuts each and two coffees. Going back outside, they sat on the curb by their bikes and ate the sweet treats.
"So, what were your plans for today?" he asked, blowing on his coffee to cool it.
She shrugged, licking a glob of custard from the middle of her filled donut. "I don't know. I haven't thought beyond this." She held up the partially eaten donut.
"Well, the desk clerk at the hotel mentioned this scenic highway that goes out of Trinidad. It goes west and north around the Spanish Peaks Wildlife area and through Cuchara Pass. Scenery is supposed to be to die for. The bad news is, it's pretty much an all day thing. It dumps you out west of Walsenburg," he explained.
She shrugged. "I only booked my room for one night anyway."
He smiled. "The Mainstreet Bakery and Caf is right around here. I was thinking...grab a picnic lunch and head out."
She stuffed the last of her donut into her mouth and washed down with the dregs of her coffee. "I just need to hit a convenience store, grab some bottles of water and some sunscreen," she said, knowing that even though it was fall the sun still had the power to toast her red as a lobster within hours.
"Yeah, me too," he agreed. They both got on their bikes and left the donut shop. It took them about half an hour to find the caf, conveniently right across the street from a gas station/convenience store. They took turns gassing up their bikes and stocking up on water and sunscreen before crossing the street and ordering box lunches. Fortunately the clerk was used to packing for hikers and he put their food in small Styrofoam containers to keep the club sandwiches from succumbing to the heat.
Following the signs, they found the Highway of Legends and started to make their way west on the narrow two lane highway. The scenery was fantastic, it was just after Labor Day which meant that they had less other tourists to deal with as they drove around mesas and bluffs, the brilliant green of the firs and spruce contrasting with the sparkling golden of the aspen leaves.
The road wound through a half dozen small towns, which afforded Sam the opportunity to take one pit stop and rid herself of her morning coffee, before turning north and heading uphill towards the Cuchara Pass. With the towns behind them, the traffic noticeably lessened and Sam let her mind wander as she automatically followed Eric, navigating the narrow strip of black top.
##
She hurried down the chill corridors of the SGC, ignoring the odd looks from the SF's. Yes boys, I do have legs, she thought irritably as she spied the object of her search. "Colonel!" she called out.
He turned and looked back, not noticing or not caring that she was in her civilian clothes. "Yeah?"
"Sir, look at this." She held up the clock she'd found that morning hanging neatly on her kitchen wall...the clock she never bought.
"So?"
"So, it was in my house," she explained, hurrying to keep up with him as he walked down the hall. "The code 3 team was supposed to take away all their equipment when they left ... no more cameras, no more listening devices."
"So they forgot one, Carter."
"Are you sure?" she challenged.
"No," he said after a second.
"Sir. Is the SGC secretly keeping tabs on me?" she asked, desperate for but also dreading his answer.
"Secretly?" he asked, trying to deflect her question without answering it.
"Colonel, I did my duty in reporting the Alien encounter, and now everyone thinks I'm crazy," she said.
"Look, Carter, here's the bottom line," he said after a minute. "No one is seeing what you've seen. And until that happens, we're all gonna think you're NUTS!" he said in his blunt way. ##
Yeah, they thought she was nuts all right. Right up until they bashed in her door to apprehend the alien they didn't believe she'd seen. They spied on her, used her to gather information about Orlin and try to capture him.
It had taken her a long time to get over the feeling of betrayal left behind by that whole mess. It was weeks before she'd felt comfortable even moving around her own house, before she'd stopped jumping every time she heard a car door slam. More than once she'd caught herself peering out her window, trying to see if there were any panel vans or dark sedans parked on her quiet street.
And it'd taken her months to lose the bitterness she felt every time she was alone with the guys. And even then, she was never really comfortable with them, and even uncomfortable walking around the SGC, seeing the looks on peoples' faces and knowing that they were talking about her. She'd heard the rumors, the stories that she had hidden Orlin so they could have their own private love nest. More than once she suppressed the urge to tell them to go ask the NID, they'd been spying on her all along, they had the whole week on tape. If they had any questions, they could sit down and watch it in living color.
Maybe this was how Daniel had felt when he went nuts. But at least then they had proof in his blood, proof of the creatures in the PTD's. In the end, everyone supported him. They apologized. They had yet to apologize to her.
She got into the habit of refusing every invitation, no matter how innocent. She bailed on Daniel's birthday party, bribing Major Castleman to switch shifts with her at the last minute so she had an iron clad excuse not to go. She started to pay for caller ID on her phones so she could avoid picking up the call if it was one of the guys, letting her answering machine deal with the situation.
After the colonel tried to corner her in the gym one day, she stopped using it, instead paying a ridiculous sum for a gym membership off the base. It was that same gym that had nearly gotten her killed.
##
"I'll be right back," Janet promised, pulling the curtain shut as she went off in search of a sterile syringe. The doctor had requested one last blood test before she released Sam out of her care, a request Sam had grudgingly given into.
At this exact moment in time, it was taking all her self control not to flee the infirmary and the bad memories associated with it. Right now watching ER gave her the creeps, much less sitting on a bed that bore too many similarities to the one that had imprisoned her for the last week.
She knew that Janet wasn't running her tests just for the heck of it, and that was about the only thing that was keeping her there. Multiple and very colorful bruises up and down her arms testified to the real reason for the doctor's obsession with blood tests and tox screens. Thus far, she'd identified at least a half dozen different substances in her blood, none of which were supposed to be there, but all of which were.
Even for a normal person, Sam knew it wasn't a good thing to be drugged to the gills, but she was 'special'. She was 'unique'...which basically meant that she was weird.
Things affected her differently, there was no such thing as a normal prescription for her, not anymore, not since Jolinar had crawled into her head and died.
And that difference was what had plastered a big honkin target on her back and nearly gotten her killed.
"Man, what a close call," someone said as she heard two people walk into the room. They must be the nurses Janet had been talking about, the ones that were on break.
"No kidding," the second one agreed. "I mean, think about it. They didn't even know she was gone for two days, much less in any sort of trouble..."
"Was it really as close as I heard?"
"Oh yeah. From what I hear they had the needle full of poison in her arm and everything. Two more seconds and that's it. Game over."
More like ten seconds, Sam corrected silently, compulsively rubbing the raw spots on her wrists where she'd torn the skin struggling against the handcuffs. Ten seconds and she'd have been dead.
"You know, it's kinda sad," the first nurse said.
"How so?"
"Think about it. You get off half an hour late and your husband's calling the front gate. Marcia has to fax her mother a copy of her schedule. I mean, can you imagine vanishing for days before anyone notices? I mean, imagine how it would have been had she been on leave or something? She'd have been dead and dissected before anyone even knew she was missing."
The nurses' sent a chill down her spine. They were right. If it hadn't have been for her missing her duty shift, no one would have even missed her. She'd have been like one of those little old ladies, the ones that die and lie in the middle of their living room floor and decompose for days or weeks, even years before anyone notices that they're missing. A body that lies unclaimed in the morgue for years because no one cared that the person was dead.
Hearing the two women leave, she slipped off the bed and out of the infirmary, not quite sure where she was going, just that she had the overwhelming desire to not be alone. ##
Eric braked and Sam followed suit, slowing down as they turned off the road and slowly made their way over the short grass and gravel, their destination apparently a small grove of trees surrounding an abandoned and mostly derelict church.
She parked her bike beside his and took off her helmet, running her fingers through her smashed hair in an attempt to revive it. She climbed off the bike and turned around, staring at the fantastic view. They were near the top of the pass and she could see for miles. "Wow," she said, hearing him moving to stand beside her.
"Yeah. This was definitely worth the trip," he agreed. "We shoulda bought a camera at the gas station."
She turned around an opened her saddle bag, pulling out a bottle of water. Opening it, she drank deeply, then reached in and got another one, offering it to him.
He accepted it with a smile. "Hungry?"
"Starving," she answered.
He walked back to his bike and got their lunches. They sat in the meager shade from a pin oak and opened up their lunches, relieved to discover that they were still fresh. Sam ate, finding the sandwich one of the best she'd had in a while. Eric evidentially felt the same way since both of them finished eating rather quickly. They packed up their trash and walked around exploring the ruin.
"So you lecture the cadets on astrophysics," he said, picking up a long thin branch to serve as a sort of snake stick.
"Sure do."
"You know, I just never imagine cadets in the Air Force learning things like that," he said, leading the way around the structure. Two of the walls had fallen in, exposing the rest to the elements, the roof a small pile of rubble and rotten timbers in the middle of the room.
"What did you think they were taught?" she asked, picking up a battered enamelware bowl.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Military stuff," he said, stepping over a fallen tree trunk.
"Well, they do learn that, but...the Air Force is more than just....blowing stuff up," she said. "The academy is just like any other four year university, just with a slightly different focus. If they make it, cadets graduate Second Lieutenants and usually have a service commitment to the Air Force. After that a lot of them move onto private sector jobs."
"I'm sorry I asked," he said.
"No." She reached out and grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."
"What year were you?" he asked.
"What makes you think I graduated from the Air Force Academy?" she bantered.
"Because I react the same way when folks pick on Mizzou."
She looked at him then smiled. "Class of nineteen....." She turned away, deliberately mumbling.
"Excuse me? I didn't catch that," he teased.
"I'd tell ya, then I'd have to shoot you," she said.
He laughed and walked in the other direction, stopping and kneeling down. "Well, whatta ya know?" he said, picking something up and brushing the dust off of it.
"What have you got?" she asked, moving towards him.
"Old Spanish coin," he said, tossing it to her. "Worth a pretty penny if that's what I think it is."
She studied the coin, trying to decipher the faded writing. "It's gold," she said. "I have no idea how old it is, but I have a friend that might know." She tossed it back to him. "He's no archaeologist, but one hell of a quick study. And persistent. He'll wear the internet out until he finds out who that is."
Eric tossed it back to her. "Ask him them."
She caught it, looking down at the glittering coin in her hand. "This is yours."
He moved towards her, standing just a couple of feet away. "If you have it, then I have a good excuse to call you," he said softly.
"Do you need an excuse," she replied just as softly, looking into his hazel eyes, knowing what was to come, her breath quickening in anticipation. She could turn away now, break the mood. She didn't.
"I hope not," he said, reaching out and wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close.
She stepped forward, mimicking his gesture. She pulled his head close and kissed him, relieved when he kissed her back. She wrapped her other arm around his neck, thrilling in the heavy warmth of his hand through her t-shirt.
Denying her doubts, she surrendered to the sensations, opening her mouth as she opened her body, for once not thinking, just feeling...and enjoying every single second of it.
<><><><><>
##
"Daniel told me," Colonel O'Neill admitted, rolling his eyes slightly.
"You saw Doctor Jackson?" Jonas asked.
"Actually, it's not the first time."
"Is he all right?" Sam asked, not quite believing what she was hearing. Not that he'd seen Daniel...but that he'd seen him twice...and never said a word. Daniel was her friend too, didn't they think she'd want to know that the ascension worked and that he was ok?
"What else did he say?" General Hammond asked, cutting to the chase.
"Whoa, wait. You guys don't think I'm nuts or anything like that?" O'Neill asked, openly surprised.
"I too have recently see Daniel Jackson," Teal'c confessed.
"Really?" Sam asked, her mind boggling, seemingly unable to do more than make inane comments.
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Why did you not?" Teal'c countered O'Neill.
"Well to be honest, I wasn't quite sure it was really happening the first time."
"Neither was I."
Hours later, Sam opened her locker door, the scene from the briefing room playing through her mind. They'd both seen him, both seen Daniel...and they hadn't said a word.
The sting of their betrayal still hurt, even hours later. The colonel, the colonel she could almost understand. Hell, if it hadn't have been for the crystal entity, he probably never would have told her about Charlie and his wife. CO's did not usually confess their deepest darkest secrets to their subordinates.
But Teal'c...she thought Teal'c was her friend. God, how many times had she gone to him, asking his advice, seeking his counsel. He knew how much Daniel's ascension had hurt her, how desperate she was to know that he was ok, and he never said a word. Never told her that Daniel had visited him, kept him alive, and comforted him while he was dying.
Damnit, she'd been dying too, how come no one had come to see her? How come they'd just left her alone in that damn cell, how come HE'D left her alone? He hadn't even seemed happy to see her on Abydos. 'Sam.' That's all she got? Not even a hi? Just a half-hearted acknowledgement, and that only after she'd spoken first.
Maybe he'd been busy, she didn't know what it was like to be ascended, maybe he was off...glowing somewhere, at some convention or something...or maybe he just didn't give a damn. After all, what was she to him, definitely not one of the boys. She was 'the girl'.
The person that, no matter how hard she tried, would never truly be one of them, never truly be 'one of the boys'.
The boys that played together, stayed together.
Slamming the metal door shut, she took great pleasure in the echoing clang. Wrapping her indignation around her like a shield, she stalked out of the SGC, seeking refuge in her solitude until she could deal with her anger, file it away where she could ignore it, and deny it. ##
Sam opened her eyes and looked into the sleeping face of her lover, trying to banish the last of her dream. They were lying on a blanket from her pack, yet another example of Jacob Carter's 'You never know when you'll need it' school of survival. Although she had a funny idea that he hadn't quite envisioned this use when he'd bought it for her, proud that he'd managed to find something useful during one of his off world jaunts.
Feeling cold, she wrapped her arms across her bare chest as she watched him. Eric was asleep, snoring softly in the full shade cast by one of the remaining walls. It'd been so long since she'd met a guy like him. So long since she'd had a perfect afternoon. So long that she'd practically forgotten what it felt like. So long since she'd been with someone that only wanted her, not her title, not her job, not her brain...her.
What a bum deal he got. If one of her best friends didn't think she was worth saving what the hell kind of hope did they have? Desperately afraid of what she'd see in his eyes when he awoke, she carefully extracted herself from his arms, frowning when her bare foot found something hard. Bending down, she picked up the old coin and stared at it, squinting as it glinted in the setting sun. Impulsively she kissed it and gently laid it on his chest, then quickly got dressed, wincing as she encountered more than one sore patch of sunburn. Sunscreen only worked when you put it on, she thought. And she sure as hell hadn't put any there.
Ignoring the discomfort, she finished dressing, stopping to take one last look at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She turned, making her way to her bike as quietly as she could. Putting her helmet on, she raised the kickstand and pushed the heavy bike towards the road. Once she was on the asphalt, she climbed on the bike, casting one last glance over her shoulder. The old mission was silhouetted in the setting sun, its sun-baked walls standing in stark relief to the fiery western sky.
Ignoring her impulse to go back, she turned the key, bringing the engine to life. She revved it twice, and then released the brake, nearly losing control of the bike as her rear tire spit gravel behind her.
She sped up the road, refusing to look back, telling herself that the tears streaming down her cheeks were caused by the wind.
~Fin~
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