Title: Christmas Is All In
The Heart
Author: HailDorothy
Email: gwichman1@new.rr.com
Category: angst/friendship/humor/romance
Warning: None
CONTENT LEVEL: 13+
Season: End of S8
Spoilers: minor Sam & Pete
Pairing: J/S Duh!
Archive: Jackfic: Yes
File size: 71 KB
Author Note: Original 2004
S/J Christmas challenge: Stuck on base and a kiss.
Summary: Sam’s stuck
babysitting the SGC on Christmas Eve, and ponders where it went wrong between
her and Jack.
Beta thanks to my dearest,
sweetest friend, Carol Sue, who loves Jack more than chocolate!
Songs: Christmas Is All In
The Heart © Steven Curtis Chapman, Passionate Kisses © Mary Chapman Carpenter.
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 and situations of this story
are the property of said author. HailDorothy © 12/22/04
Feedback: Gosh, darn, don’t make me beg! Pretty Please??? Starvation of this
writer’s muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well
digested. “Feed me, Seymour!” (The Little Shop of Horrors)
~*~
‘In
a one bedroom apartment on the humble part of town
There stands a little Christmas tree, looks a lot like Charlie Brown's
And underneath there's one little gift for him and one little gift for her
After six months on the new job, they're still barely getting by
So in the way of decorations, there's nothing there to catch your eye
But both of them would be the first to say
We're together, we're gonna have the merriest Christmas anyway
Cause Christmas is all in the heart, that's where the feeling starts
And like a fire inside, it touches every part
'Cause Christmas is all in the heart
And even if no white snow falls, that's all right because
The joy can still be found, wherever you are
'Cause Christmas is all, all in the heart
Two little blonde haired boys with big dreams, tried to sleep but sleep
wouldn't come
We'd be tearing into presents, long before the break of dawn
With Mom and Dad and cameras making sure we'd never forget that day
Now I'm the one who's taking pictures, in the middle of the night
Of my own blonde headed dreamers that just can't wait until daylight
And in my sleepy eyes that spark still glows
Well I guess there's just some things a kid never outgrows
No, it's not in the snow that may or may not fall
And it's not in the gifts around the tree
It's in the love heaven gave, the night our Savior came
And that same love can still be found wherever you are
'Cause Christmas is all in the heart
And the joy can still be found, wherever you are
'Cause Christmas is all, all in the heart
It's all in the heart’
~*~
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
Static!
Darn!
Colonel Samantha Carter sat
in General O’Neill’s office fidgeting with the radio dial. The greatest
technology in the universe at her fingertips and the lousiest FM radio
transmitter coz she was buried in a freaking mountain. Halfway through, the
song crackled and then died, like her prayers for spending Christmas with the
man she loved.
The static cleared and the
familiar lyrics warmed her heart. Sam enjoyed that song. So did the General.
Strange how much her CO’s personal tastes had influenced her over the years and
became her own. Take Opera for instance. Or not. She was still working on that
acquired music preference. But this song, if she could just get that radio
station back. She never should have touched the General’s setting but then
she’d not been looking for Christmas music, let along the spiritual kind.
Worse, she’d never thought she’d be here . . .alone without him.
Logically, Sam realized that
had Colonel Reynolds’ General O’Neill’s 2IC not gotten the flu she wouldn’t be
stuck here. But since Dixon outranked her and had plans to spend Christmas with
his family, it left number four on the totem pole to baby sit the SGC, Sam.
Never in her worst nightmares had she imagined this scenario. The General
hadn’t even apologized for leaving her stranded over the holidays.
“Hey, deal with it, Carter.
After all, it’s what we do,” he’d said flippantly after delivering the order
two hours ago and then strolling off, whistling some stupid Christmas carol.
He’d not even asked if she’d had plans, which she hadn’t. That was beside the
point. General O’Neill hadn’t asked or seemed to care.
This was a first.
And it hurt.
A lot.
Could it get any worse?
Yeah sure yabetcha.
First there was the mission
from the North Pole. Four days chasing a Tok’ra rumor of a Naquadah mine on the
snow-encased moon PX1-873 that thankfully ended when the General ordered SG-1
home mid-day December 23rd.
Pushing a curl from her
eyes, Sam couldn’t remember a worse Christmas. Well, besides after her mother
had died. Personally, this year had been filled with highs and lows. Mostly
lows if she were honest.
Sam got a boyfriend.
Jack got a girlfriend.
Sam ditched her boyfriend.
Jack ditched his girlfriend.
Then nada.
Just abused feelings and
confusion between her and the General. It might be out of the room but per
their bullheaded natures, neither one addressed it. Did he even know she and
Pete had mutually called their nine-month fling a wash?
Besides being a major
control freak and buying Sam a house without consulting her, Pete Shanahan
wasn’t stupid. During their last conversation or argument, however one viewed
it, he’d shared that he’d witnessed the emotional bond she and Jack shared at
Daniel’s stakeout. Pete may have been wounded, but he’d seen the way her CO had
looked and behaved around Sam when he’d thought she’d been injured.
Sam had argued that being
the SG-1 CO he’d have acted that way with Daniel or Teal’c. Pete snorted and
said men have a sixth sense when it comes to their territory. Far as Pete was
concerned Jack had long marked her like some alley tomcat. Pete actually said pissed.
Sam shuddered. She’d been insulted and yet weirdly elated. Jack’s territory.
Wow!
Pete proceeded to share the
only conversation he’d ever had with Jack. A thirty-second, one-sided sound
bite when they’d accidentally or not, met in the grocery store near her house
the weekend after Sam accepted Pete’s proposal.
Jack got in Pete’s face and
stated in O’Neill fashion, “So help me, Shanahan, you ever hurt Samantha and
I’ll deliver you to hell in a hand basket!” With that, Jack stalked out of the
store, got into his truck and drove off.
Pete admitted he had
competition he just didn’t realize it was a losing battle. When he asked Sam if
she was still in love with Jack, she’d answered yes and returned Pete’s ring.
They parted as friends, well sort of. There was some serious door slamming on
Pete’s part. So far, Sam hadn’t told anyone not even Cassie, who’d do
somersaults when she heard the news. Cassie wanted Sam happy, just with Jack
that’s all, and the college student made no bones about it to either of them.
If Sam were honest, she’d seen
their breakup coming long before Pete had proposed. She knew when Fifth
abducted her and posed as Pete. Before then, she’d never envisioned herself
married to Pete let alone living on a farm in Wyoming. The only man she’d
expected to see stroll out of that barn’s door was Jack O’Neill. Sam shivered
with the horrific memory of her disappointment and that’s when she suspected
the experience was an illusion. Had Fifth dug deeper in her subconscious she’d
most likely still be trapped in that nightmare. Or would she? Fifth had only
passed the kissing test because Sam had never put Pete’s kisses to memory.
A series of lust-sparked
kisses in a locker room eight years ago invaded Sam’s senses of texture, taste
and smell. She’d never forget ramming her tongue halfway down his throat or
when he returned the favor and yanked her down the wall and onto the floor
before dragging her off to the infirmary. For almost a minute he not only
kissed her hard and fierce, he’d found her mole and she’d found his sidearm, locked,
loaded and ready to fire!
Sam’s skin tingled and she
gulped! Why was she doing this to herself?
“Because you’re an
emotionally repressed geek, Carter, in love with an emotionally repressed
flyboy!” Sam startled and looked around. If she didn’t know better, the General
had murmured into her ear. Crap, now she thought like him. And she liked the
way he thought. Simple. Black and white Jack O’Neill. He didn’t want much out
of life, just his cabin and a fishing pole. He always gave more than he received.
She recalled hearing him singing, not that he’d ever admitted he could carry a
note. Like so many other he’d kept that well hidden too. But last week when Sam
was about to knock on his closed door she heard him and her heart stood still.
He’d had his radio on and was singing to a song that befitted Jack O’Neill and
also had given Sam a twinge of hope, especially his adlibs. She could hear Jack
singing,
“Is it too much to ask
I want a comfortable bed that won't hurt my back
Food to fill me up
And warm clothes and all that stuff
Shouldn't I have this
Shouldn't I have this
Shouldn't I have all of this, and
Passionate kisses ‘Sam’
Passionate kisses, whoa oh oh
Passionate kisses from you
Is it too much to demand
I want a full house ‘of kids,’ and a rock and roll band
Pens that won't run out of ink
And cool quiet and time to think
Shouldn't I have this
Shouldn't I have this
Shouldn't I have all of this, and
Passionate kisses, ‘Sam.’
Passionate kisses, whoa oh oh
Passionate kisses from you,
Do I want too much
Am I going overboard to want that touch
I shout it out to the night
"Give me what I deserve, 'cause it's my right"
Shouldn't I have this (shouldn't I)
Shouldn't I have this (shouldn't I)
Shouldn't I have all of this, and
Passionate kisses ‘Sam’
Passionate kisses, whoa oh oh
Passionate kisses from you,
Passionate kisses, ‘Sam,’
Passionate kisses, whoa oh oh
Passionate kisses from you.”
Man, oh, man! He’d been
singing her name. Passionate kisses! She recalled their kiss on the Prometheus,
which she had fantasized she’d fantasized. Was that even possible? She shook
her aching head. Since then, there’d been one kiss every Christmas Eve from
Jack under the mistletoe. And although he’d never French kissed her again . .
.Okay so, there was that time four years back when there was a slip of tongues
on New Year’s Eve. Wow! That had been one fireworks of a kiss. After which they
proceeded to grin stupidly at each other for the next two weeks. Sam blushed.
Yeah, she most definitely knew the taste and feel of his lips and tongue. What
she wouldn’t give to feel them again tonight or tomorrow. Forever!
Heck, she’d give anything to
see him saunter through that doorway waving mistletoe, and chuckling. “Had ya
going there didn’t I, Carter? Hey, I’d never leave you stranded on base, let
alone without me. After all it’s Christmas.”
Yeah, what she wouldn’t
give. Sam crushed a maverick tear and kept thinking. Something she did too much
according to her CO.
The fact it’d take her two
weeks to say yes to Pete should have made her say no. But Jack’s lack of
emotional response had angered and hurt her. He’d not told her how he felt,
well other than cryptically. Like she could read his freaking mind? He’d not
had a temper tantrum. Not swept her in his arms and declared his undying love.
Just said, “I wouldn’t be
here.”
What was that suppose to
mean?
But then that was Jack
O’Neill, cryptic to the nth degree. She knew he wasn’t good at expressing
himself. Sam wondered what she’d expected. Besides the Za’tarc test, the
strongest outward sign she’d ever gotten from him was when she’d hummed in the
elevator nine months ago. And then that she’d selfishly not realized how badly
she’d hurt him had been their undoing.
“Hindsight is strongly
underrated, Sam.”
So she’d half-heartedly
accepted Pete’s proposal. Oh, she’d faked it for a while, but truth was she
wasn’t in love with Pete, at least not the kind of love she dreamt of or
wanted. Simply put, he wasn’t Jack O’Neill. That included the O’Neill traits
she loved and the ones that drove her wacko and bonkers. Darn, she loved all of
Jack’s traits. For better or for worse the wedding vows stated and obviously
for a good reason. Which meant one thing. She was hopelessly, helplessly,
head-over-heels in love with her CO! She wanted him to be her lover, her
husband and the father of her children. Sam was borderline O’Neill obsessed.
Meanwhile, Dad was
recovering from his close call with death and spending Christmas with Mark’s
family in Denver. Daniel visited relatives in D.C. and Teal’c was with Ishta,
Rya’c, Kar’yn, and Bra’tac. Cassie bless her heart was in town, staying at
Sam’s and planned to drop by tomorrow with her Christmas present. At least
there was something to look forward to.
Sam returned to the one
issue that kept her sulking. General O’Neill had gone to his cabin for the
holidays, leaving her to man the SGC. This was a first. In all the years that
she’d served with him under Hammond’s command, they’d always managed to be
together on Christmas whether stranded off world, or babysitting the SGC. In
fact this was the first time SG-1 wasn’t together for the holidays. Then again,
what had she expected after getting engaged? Whatever she and Jack once had
intimately was now nothing more than friendship. She should be thankful they
had that, right?
“Is there anything you need
before I leave, Colonel?” Walter poked his gray balding head into Jack’s office
and smiled warmly at her.
“Thanks, Walter, I’ll be
fine. You have a merry Christmas with your family and say hi to Louise for me.”
Sam got to her feet, walked over to the sergeant, and patted his wool coat
sleeve.
“I will, Colonel. Now
remember if you need me for anything—”
“Hey, don’t worry, I got
your number. Any Goa’uld Santa Claus’ and you’ll be notified.” She grinned,
gave him a hug and sent him on his way. Home. For Christmas, with the ones he
loved.
“And
even if no white snow falls, that's all right because
The joy can still be found, wherever you are
'Cause Christmas is all, all in the heart . . .”
Singing, Sam bit down on her
lower lip and sniffed back a tear. Dang, she hated when she got emotional,
especially on duty. “Get a grip! Stay positive!” Sam turned and looked around
the General’s office. “’Cause Christmas is all in the heart, wherever you are .
. .” ‘At least I’m surrounded by his
stuff. That’s something, right?’
Pictures of SGC staff,
teams, friends and family decorated the walls, including pictures of Jack with
Charlie. The fact there were no pictures of Sara stated he’d moved on. Once that
would have made her day. Now it didn’t. Coz, strangely enough other than two
SG-1 pictures, including two individual pictures of Jack, Teal’c, and Daniel on
downtime, there’s wasn’t one of her and Jack alone. Worse, she knew such
pictures existed. She’d known the photo Janet had taken of them in the park
three years ago had been taped to the back of his old locker.
They’d been an undeniable
couple back then, at least to each other. Jack and Sam had been arm wrestling
on a picnic table. Sam won, but suspected he’d let her and she started tickling
him to make him fess up. One thing led to another and when Jack kissed Sam
Janet snapped the picture.
Sam trailed a trembling
fingertip across her lips recalling the delicious wet heat of their brief but
mind-spinning kiss. Sam had her photo in a drawer somewhere. She wondered if
Jack’s was still in his locker? Probably not. Jack O’Neill had moved on.
“And so should you, Sam.
He’s given absolutely no hint he wants you anymore. And why should he?”
Forcing her attention to his
office, Sam concentrated on the here and now. The once reclusive Jack had
personalized the small gray room more than uncle George ever had. Perhaps
because this room was more like home to him than his house or cabin. After all,
the General spent more time here than he did outside the mountain.
Unfortunately it had begun to physically take its toll since he’d taken the
position.
She’d long become accustom
to his silver hair, preferred it to be frank. And for years his lean rugged face
had managed to remain youthful. Jack now looked his age and she assumed it was
the stress from running the SGC. The mischievous amber fire that always lit up
his chocolate brown eyes hadn’t been visible for months. True, he didn’t have
the physical regiment of off world activity that had been his stress release in
the past. Yet she knew he worked out daily in the gym, boxed, and ran laps on
the cadet exercise field.
Despite her disconcert that
Jack had gone to the cabin for Christmas, Sam admitted he deserved time off. It
was the first vacation he’d taken since accepting the position of base
commander. Ironic, that after all these years, she longed for the many
occasions he’d asked her to go with him. She’d always hoped, even assumed, that
one of those times she’d be able to say what wanted since the first time he’d
made that flirtatious offer. Yes!
Deciding to visit the
commissary for coffee and cake, Sam loaded her arms with binders, switched off
the office light and entered the briefing room. She halted at the observation
window and gazed at the Gate Room. It was empty. Not that there should be
activity on Christmas Eve, but unlike humans the Goa’uld didn’t pay respect to
Earth’s religious holidays. The gate could activate anytime for any given reason.
Including a Goa’uld invasion or far worse, the Wraith!
Jack had gone out of his way
to make certain that other than the minimal staffed Alpha site, every SG team
member was home and those assigned to base were invited to bring their families
for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Sam had long known that beneath his gruff
exterior beat the heart of a beautiful caring man. The big, teddy bear could
have been Sam’s. Too bad she hadn’t seen how much he’d loved her before now.
Threatening tears broke
free.
‘Who you fooling, Carter!
You always knew. You just couldn’t wait it out like he could. Jack O’Neill went
to hell and back for you more than once, and not just because you were a member
of his team, but because he was in love with you. He even took a Tok’ra
symbiote for you and then nearly died at Baal’s vindictive hands!!
Groaning out loud, Sam tried
to force her thoughts away from ‘the man’. She desperately missed him
and what they might have had, had she not been so impatient. ‘Yep, patience
is a virtue, Sam. And you simply ran out of it. And now what have you got?
Nada!’ Sam sniffed and grabbing a tissue, blew hard and then hugged the
folders to her heaving chest.
‘You deserve to be alone
on Christmas, Carter. Deserve to have lost the only man who would have made you
happy. So deal with it!’
Noise from Jack’s darkened
office turned Sam on her heels. Setting down the folders, she rushed quietly to
the open door but not before unhitching her zat from her leg holster. A
precaution the General had ordered since Baal’s visit. Stepping around the door
jam, she aimed at the lone figure by Jack’s credenza.
“Hands over your head and
turn around slowly!” she snapped in her kick ass voice.
“Holy crap, Carter! Trying
to give me a heart attack?”
“General?” Sam hit the wall
switch. Light illuminated the room. Sam blinked her confusion as Jack faced her
with his hands upright gripping a red cellophane object. She also noted two
half filled glasses on the credenza.
“Are you nuts, sir?” She
scowled as her adrenaline rush bottomed-out inside her gut.
“Is that a rhetorical
question?” He frowned and stuffed the object into his back pocket.
“Whatcha doing here?” Sam disarmed the zat and slipped it into her
holster and released an audible sigh.
Jack snatched up the glasses
ambled toward her, wearing forest green khakis and a black wool sweater that
hugged his lean torso, it’s sleeves jammed up his forearms. “If you didn’t
notice the blizzard of the century hit the springs.” He cocked his head at the
ceiling and the cress between his brows deepened.
Mistake number one, Sam
noted, he’d failed to look her in the eyes.
“No reason to notice.” She
accepted the small whisky-filled glass. Man, he looked hot! Her inner
thermostat raised a few notches.
“Ah! Yes. Well, I decided to
stay in town until God’s finished sneezing.” He rocked on his heels.
“And you are here, ‘why?’”
She couldn’t help the tenacity that punctuated each word. Sam was thrilled to
see him and pissed. What was he up to?
“Never got off the mountain,
that’s ‘why’. Roads’r glazed with black ice.” He jested with his glass
and chuckled nervously.
Mistake number two. Fake
laugh. Knowing someone that well had its advantages.
“Oh.” She leaned against the
door’s jam and then looked ambivalently at the amber liquid in her hand.
“Thanks, sir. But I am on duty.”
“And your point would be?”
He challenged as he smiled around the glass’s rim and then lowered it frowning.
“I um . . .” She glanced
around. It wasn’t as if they’d never snuck a drink out of Hammond’s credenza
before. It’s just well, this was Jack’s office now and things were different
between them.
“That’s an order, Colonel,”
he said in his CO bark as his eyes targeted hers and he stuffed one fidgeting
hand into his pocket.
“Yes, sir.” Sam nodded.
“I hope you get everything
you want for Christmas, Sam.” Jack smiled.
“You too, sir.” Sam lowered
her eyes, praying for what was probably impossible, even for God.
“Thanks. Now here’s to a
blessed and joyful Christmas. Bottoms up!” He winked and clanked his glass
against hers.
Sam nodded and on cue donned
her whisky. The well-aged liquor seared a path down her throat and into her
empty stomach. Sam set her glass beside his and realized her hands were
trembling. ‘So unprofessional, Carter.’ She hoped he hadn’t noticed.
When she looked up, she found him watching her. It wasn’t his CO look or his
friendly look. Her heart went to her throat. She hadn’t expected to encounter
this warm intimate expression that she still cherished. Sam instinctively
realized Kerry had never been on its receiving end. Only Sara and Sam. It was
the look Jack gave generously to few. To little children and the women he loved
more than life.
Man, she missed his brown
gaze washing over her, caressing her with the intensity of his love. When was
the last time she’d seen and felt that passionate gaze? Oh, yeah, when she’d
awoken in the infirmary with a nasty concussion after the Prometheus incident
and then when he’d found her alive on the Alpha site after he’d put his arm
around her. After all this time, why here and why now?
Jack seemed to sense her
discomfort and the light of his heart vanished as quickly as it had shined.
Sam’s defense wall reared its ugly head. She needed to be around other people,
even if it was the cook and janitor in the commissary.
“I’m going for coffee, care
to join me?” she squeaked out, gesturing behind her.
“Not sure.” He scrubbed the
back of his neck and eyed her up warily. “Only if I’m wanted.”
‘Wanted? More than you’ll
ever know!’ “Of course. Always, sir.”
“Nice to know.” Jack set
down his empty glass, stepped forward and dragged his gaze back to her. His
smile ironed out and his deep dark eyes searched hers for the longest while,
and then he noticed, at last.
“Um, no Engagement ring?” He
lifted her left hand and his scarred eyebrow hiked higher.
“No.”
“So?” His slack mouth
twitched with O’Neill cynicism.
“So.” She smiled back,
hoping, praying, he’d read her mind.
“It’s over?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.” His hands directed
traffic and his handsome features scrunched up in the boyish manner that always
disarmed her. “So we’re talking; Ooover—As in finished, done deal, dead in the
water, dead as doorknob, no chance in hell for reconciliation with Pete, over?”
“For sure.” She smiled,
holding back tears. ‘Please, dear God, please let him still love me.’
“I see.” He leaned into the
door’s jam, exhaled, closed his eyes, and didn’t seem to breathe.
“Sir?” Worried, Sam caressed
his forearm, relishing the feel of his coarse arm hairs.
He jolted at her touch.
“About freaking time,
Carter.” Jack sniffed a breath and glanced to where she gripped him. He covered
her hand and squeezed gently before he let go. “Guess I’ll join you for coffee,
then.” He smiled back.
“And chocolate cake.”
“Cool.”
“I’m glad, sir.”
“For crying out loud, it’s
Christmas, Sam.” He motioned to the wall clock that read zero hundred hours.
“For one day, spare me the protocol and screw the regs!”
“Okay, Jack,” she choked out
as he reached into his back pocket. She heard the rustle of cellophane before
he dangled something over their heads.
“Mistletoe?” Sam chuckled as
she recognized the mangled green leaf and red berries.
“Hey, it’s SG-1 tradition,
Sam. Once a year despite regs I get to kiss you.”
“But never on base.” She
glanced around nervously.
“Sam?” He drawled out her
name.
“Well, we don’t want to mess
with SG-1 tradition.” She felt a huge smile split her face.
“Excellent.” He eased his
left arm around her waist and swept her against him while holding the
mistletoe.
“Camera?” She stiffened,
with both hands against his chest. She could feel the rapid gunfire of his
heart and knew her own was no quieter.
“Off. So’s audio.”
“Pretty sure of yourself.”
“Hardly. But I’m a safe
bet.” He grinned, his dimples tucking deep along his inviting lips. “And I’d
never ask you to choose between me or your career, Samantha Jean Carter.”
Sam’s eyes rounded at his
remark and a gasp warmed her lips. Everything came full circle as she remembered
her hallucination and what he’d said then. Now she realized she’d misread that
entire conversation. He’d loved her enough to let her go!
Her voice shook with raw
emotion. “Yes. You’re my safe bet. Always have been.”
His brown eyes shimmered down
at her and Sam sniffed a tear of joy. “Sweet.” Teasing her, he brushed his
mouth gingerly across her chin, cheeks, nose, and then swept downward across
her arched neck.
“Jack!” She murmured in
frustration.
“Wha—?” He whined and
stepped back. His dimples deepened and his brows did a caterpillar dance across
his brow.
“You going to kiss me or
marinate me?”
“Thinking,” he muttered and
secured her against his muscled chest. “It’s just I’ve waited and dreamt about
this a long time, Samantha.” His sweet breath caressed her face. He smelled
like peppermints, dark chocolate and whisky.
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“So there’s more to this
than a CO taking advantage of his Colonel with mangled mistletoe?”
“Man, oh, man, I sure hope
so.” She finger combed his natural spiked hair. Sam had to say it first. He
deserved that much and more. “I’m in love with you, Jack O’Neill, have been
since the moment I laid eyes on you. Please forgive me for being such an a—”
“Shhhush!” he pressed his
calloused fingertips to her parted lips. His chocolate eyes shimmered and she
thought to see tears. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, Sam. Even
if with someone else.”
“But I don’t want to be with
anyone but you, Jack.”
“And I’ve kept praying you’d
one day realize that.”
“You prayed?”
“Yeah. A lot. One thing I’ve
come to terms with, Carter. There are a hundreds of false gods, but there’s
only one true Creator and He’s got my vote.”
“I prayed too, Jack.” Sam
blushed considering it wasn’t a topic they often discussed. “I prayed to God
that you still loved me.”
“Well, I do.” He caressed
her back and waist.
“And you’re the only man
I’ve ever loved, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” he said in
the same tenor he’d use on the scout ship last year before he went Ancient.
“I’ve been such a stupid
fool!”
“Yes, you have.” He chuckled
and then bent to kiss the tears staining her cheeks.
“Why didn’t you tell me,
Jack, that day on the elevator?”
Hurt flickered in his eyes
and his firm mouth parted and then closed before he spoke. “Coz, given our
professional situation I couldn’t. ‘Sides I thought you knew I loved you. But I
realized you needed more than I could give you at the time. You deserved more,
Sam.”
“The seven year itch.” Sam
muttered.
“What?”
“That’s what Daniel calls
it. It happens more with men than women. Guess I was the exception.”
“Stop beating yourself,
Sam.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.
She nodded reluctantly
against him.
“Hey, do you recall the
first time we walked through the gate together?”
“Yes. You pushed me.” She
grumbled.
“That’s because you’d
annoyed me so much I wanted to kiss you stupid, right in front of Hammond and
Samuels! Sam, when I’d said, ‘Oh, I adore you already, Captain.’ I’d meant it.
In less than a few hours you had me hook, line and sinker, woman.”
She opened her mouth but he
silenced her with a kiss that was soft, demanding, and mind blowing. When his
tongue gently prodded her lips, Sam didn’t hesitate biding him entry. Per their
competitive nature two hot tongues dueled for dominance. Surrendering,
butterflies danced in her tummy, followed by goose bumps and a raw undeniable
ache that gripped her womanhood. Pete never gave her butterflies, let alone
tasted like whisky-laced chocolate and peppermint. Sam signed into Jack’s sweet
addictive mouth.
His talented hands coveted
the length of her body urging her closer in a dance as old as time. Her fingers
sifted through his unruly hair and then pressed into his scalp, while the fever
he’d ignited became an inferno. Before their kiss and caresses went further,
Jack pulled away and stared breathlessly down at her. His brown eyes burned
bright. It’d been so long since she’d seen that fire in his eyes. Had she done
to him?
“Wow!” His voice cracked.
“You can say that again.”
She leaned against the doorframe for support to catch her breath.
“Wow!” He grinned causing
his dimples to tuck deep along his kissable mouth. She loved those dimples, the
cleft in his chin and the scar over his left eye. She loved Jack O’Neill.
“Now what, sir?”
“Sir,” he lisped and his
boyish smile faded. Sam flashed back to their time as Jona and Therra and the
emotional pain they’d experienced after regaining their memories.
“I’m sorry, Jack.” She
motioned between them. “But you’re still my CO and I’m still your—”
“Yep, I know. And I want you
to trust and believe me when I say, it’ll workout, Babe, and soon.”
“But how?”
“I’m retiring, Sam, and then
coming onboard as an independent consultant, which means I’ll choose my hours
and can accompany off world missions.”
Sam’s breath hitched in her
throat. “Jack! Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yeah. I’m not cut out for
base command. I’m a field officer, Sam. That’s where I’m at home. Not following
a never-ending freaking paper trail. To be honest, the job’s killing me. The
final straw came when I had to decide whether or not to blow up the Prometheus
with SG-1 onboard. The thought of losing you, Sam, making that fatal judgment
call . . .” He flinched and looked at something beyond her shoulder. The
excruciating agony that masked his rugged tanned features was a wakeup call for
her. She’d no idea he’d been so miserable.
“Man, I’m so sorry, Jack! I
never should have pressed you to take the position.” She caressed the back of his
neck tracing the scar, where the Goa’uld symbiote had entered him six years
ago.
“Hey, no one twisted my arm.
I thought it was a good move at the time. I was wrong and I’m not too proud to
admit it. In sixty days I’ll be a civilian. Think you can wait?” He cocked a
questioning brow.
“Yeah sure yabetcha.” She
kissed his dimpled chin.
“Cool.” He drew her into his
arms and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Besides, I’d love to be
Mr. Mom and the SGC has the greatest daycare center. So on the days we’re off
world, we can drop the kids off on our way to some unexplored planet on the
edge of the Crab Nebula.”
“Mr. Mom! Kids!” Sam did her
Turtledove chin tuck. “Aren’t you missing a few important details like a
marriage proposal and wedding?”
“Geez, details, details.” He
quipped. “I’m not missing anything, Carter. Just wanna make certain we’re on
the same mission report.”
“Oh, we are, General. And
you are something else.” Sam smirked.
“Yes, yes, I am.” He kissed
her nose.
“Umm, Jack?” she sighed out
as his lips trailed down her chin and beyond. “About the blizzard?”
“Erm, umm?” He tickled her
ribs and she tried to restrain the laughter rising in her throat.
“I had the radio on and
heard the we—”
“Hey, you didn’t monkey with
my station did ya?” He let go, frowned and approached his credenza.
“Well, a little. But that’s
not the point!” Hands on her hips, she glared at his sheepish expression and
could see the color staining his complexion. At last, caught in the act!
“It is to me.” He strove to
divert her attention. “Have you any idea how difficult it is to get good
reception down here? I mean we have digital cable and yet to get one decent FM
channel you have to make a pack with the devil.”
Sam was on his six as he
fiddled with the dial.
Static.
Louder static.
Sound.
Voices and then—
“And so far it’s been a
beautiful star-filled Christmas morning, folks. Just a light kiss of that white
frosting is expected to grace our lawns in the early AM. And now here’s Steven
Curtis Chapman with his Christmas ballad, ‘Christmas Is All In The Heart.’”
“Whoops!” Jack audibly
gulped and turned to face the woman he loved. “I um, guess the storm’s passed.”
He winced and began strolling backward for the door. Fast. “Cake and coffee—”
He waved his hands.
“Nah! I don’t think so,
General.” Sam was on him in a heartbeat, snatched his arm and swung him around.
“I should have known! I prayed you wouldn’t leave me here. Alone.”
“Never, Sam.” His lips
tugged into a crooked smile. “I just said that to make ya squirm. Which was
childish on my part.” He toyed with her hair.
“Which I should have
realized knowing how childish you can be.”
“Ow!” Jack flinched. “That
hurt.”
“Doubt it.” Sam laughed
softly.
“Sam, I couldn’t spend
Christmas without you. Ever.” He was in her space now and she loved when he
enveloped her in his strong arms and nuzzled her neck.
“Back at ya.” She picked up
the mistletoe but he took it and flung it in the wastebasket.
“Don’t need this,” he lisped
softly. “Not when God gave what I wanted most for Christmas. You. I swear my
heart’s going to blow like a C4 rigged Goa’uld mother ship.”
“Holy Hannah! You’re such a
romantic, Jack O’Neill.” Sam wondering how many women ever heard that poetic
phrase. None.
“Yeah sure yabetcha.” Jack
grinned, cradled her face with his long eloquent fingers and tipped her head up
toward his.
Sam gazed up into chocolate
brown eyes that had captured a hidden flame and now shimmered brightly for her.
She loved this man beyond words.
“Sam, before Reynolds got
sick I’d intended to ask you something.” He cleared his throat.
“Okay.” She ventured warily.
“Wanna go ice fishing,
Carter?”
“Holy Hannah! Yes!”
Jack’s brown eyes grew wide
and his mouth slackened. He had that deer caught in headlights look.
Sam grinned.
“Excuse me? Did you just
say, ‘yes’ to an eight year proposition?”
“Yep. I’d loved to go
fishing with you.”
“Sweet.” He let out a sigh
and smiled back. “Samantha?”
“Erm?” She’d barely heard
herself as pulsing blood resounded into her temples and a fire burned deep
inside of her as it touched every part of her body, mind, soul and heart. ‘Thank,
you, Lord Jesus, and Happy Birthday.’
“Merry Christmas,” Jack
spoke against her warm inviting lips.
“Merry Christmas, Jack.”
And he kissed her.
Forever!
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
‘Cause
Christmas is all in the heart, that's where the feeling starts
And like a fire inside, it touches every part
'Cause Christmas is all in the heart
And even if no white snow falls, that's all right because
The joy can still be found, wherever you are
'Cause Christmas is all, all in the heart’
The Beginning . . .