24th December 1996

There were few things more depressing than sitting in a small diner on Christmas Eve on his own, but Jack drew a blank when he tried to think of any. 'Maybe being the person working as a waitress in said small diner,' he thought wryly. Then he almost felt bad. After all, he was the only customer here. But sitting at home by himself and waiting for the day to be over was the last thing he wanted to do. Besides, he had tipped her well.

This was the second Christmas after Charlie's death and it felt equally as shitty as the last one had. Not that he remembered much of it, thanks to the reliable company of alcohol that night. And while the pain was more like a deep throbbing most of the year now, it got worse during Christmas time. All in all, he would rather not deal with it.

So he had ended up here in that diner called "The Golden Biscuit" on the other end of town where they had cheap coffee and served gigantic pieces of pie. There was nothing golden about this place and that was probably why Jack liked it. Being the only customer also had its advantages. The waitress had only stared at Jack for a moment when he ordered the remaining 7 pieces of pie and then simply complied with his request with a shrug, with a look on her face that told many unspoken stories of even crazier customer requests.

Jack had just taken a bite of pie number 3 (rich chocolate fudge with little walnut chunks in it) when the doorbell jingled, and a gust of wind was pushed through the door followed by a woman wrapped up in a huge coat.

His eyes followed her as she walked through the room to the counter. He couldn't help it, she was the most exciting thing to happen in the last half hour. He was pretty sure that even the waitress agreed, judging by the way she suddenly perked up. Jack couldn't blame her, it's not like he was being a very entertaining guest. When the woman pointed her fingers to the now empty cake display (thanks to him) an uneasy feeling spread in his stomach. When the waitress shook her head and inclined her head in the direction of his corner, he decided that resolutely watching the table in front of him and refraining from digging into the pie was his best option. At least until the woman left again.

Which she didn't, much to his dismay. Instead, she bought a cup of coffee and moved to sit in the booth behind him, so that they sat back to back with nothing but the faux red leather seats separating them. Jack could practically feel her judging him for buying up all the pie and he tried very hard to ignore the guilt creeping up his spine. The fact that he was failing annoyed him a great deal.

Before he could stop himself, he turned around and blurted out: "It's not a crime, you know?"

Jack could have kicked himself for not keeping quiet and hoped for a second that she hadn't heard him but of course she had. She turned to look at him and asked with wide eyes: "Excuse me?"

"I got here first, and I wanted cake. That's not a crime." Jack said as if that would explain the weird way he was reacting. He even fought the childish urge to cross his arms and stomp his feet.

"I didn't say anything," she said with a frown

"But I could practically hear you thinking!"

And he was taken aback when instead of getting defensive, which she would have every right to be, she just snorted and shook her head.

"Then I'm sorry for thinking so loud, apparently." She turned away from him again and stared out of the window. When Jack tried to catch her eye in the reflection she resolutely directed her gaze to the coffee cup in front of her.

With a huff, he turned back to his cake and tried to understand what the hell was wrong with him. Self-reflection had never been his strong suit but even he could admit that he was being unreasonable and cranky for no apparent reason. His consciousness piped up and seemed to say Stop being an ass, Jack.

His consciousness sounded a lot like Daniel Jackson.

He briefly wondered what Jackson would say if he were here instead of thousands of lightyears away on Abydos. He would probably scold him for taking his mood out on a completely innocent stranger. And more annoyingly, he would be right.

So Jack sighed quietly and made his decision.

He barely noticed the surprised look on her face when he sat down opposite of her, putting down the tray of cake plates in front of him more forcefully than he intended.

"Here," he said as gruffly as he could manage and pushed one of the plates towards her, that he hadn't touched yet.

Her eyebrows rose higher and she blinked, too stunned to say anything. For the first time, he took a moment to actually look at her. Blonde hair framed her face and dark circles surrounded her eyes. Striking beautiful but sad blue eyes, he noticed. Jack was struck with the thought that she looked like she needed the cake more than him.

They stared at each other for a long, antagonizing moment. The ongoing silence at the table made him question the wisdom of his actions but backtracking now would only make it worse. Him offering her some of his pie was his way of extending the olive branch and he could only hope that she would recognize it as the gesture that it was.

Then finally she overcame her shock. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. First, you accuse me of judging you for buying your cake and now you want to share?"

"Sure"

"But why?"

Jack shrugged. "It's Christmas? One good deed a day? I'm feeling generous? Pick one."

"And you just decided to be nice now? After showing no remorse about buying up all the cake?" To Jack it seemed like she was fighting to smile when she said it.

"Aha! So, you were judging me?"

"Well, who buys five pieces of cake?!"

Jack didn't bother to correct her to say that it had been seven originally. He couldn't really say anything in his defense and he had a distinct feeling that she knew that. He was also starting to enjoy this little absurd exchange more than he expected.

"Lady, just take the cake. I'm trying to make up for acting like an ass. Plus, I'm pretty sure that piece of cake right there is going to be insulted because you're refusing it. You're hurting its feelings." Jack knew he had her then. When she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, he could see by her eyes that she wanted to.

She arched her eyebrow in a way that Jack had never quite managed to accomplish himself, and said: "Now the cake has feelings?"

"Shh! It can hear you!"

At that, she giggled and shook her head. Jack felt satisfied. And he felt even better when a second later she relented with a muttered "Fine, but just this one taste", and took a bite. Jack was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a spark in her eyes that put all the Christmas lights outside to shame.

"Shame on you for trying to keep all that cake to yourself, really. This is so good!"

Jack just smiled and went back to eating his chocolate pie himself, watching her dig in.

He really wanted to ask her what on earth someone like her was doing here alone on Christmas Eve, but he had a feeling that the reason wouldn't be any more worth telling than his was.

So instead he asked about her favorite kind of food and learned that she thought she was an atrocious cook, preferring to order takeout instead. They talked about the advantages of black coffee over any other cappuccino or latte fad, about the new animals in the Colorado Springs zoo and about the summer Olympics. She was shocked to find out that he hadn't seen Pulp Fiction, which apparently was some kind of must-see movie, and confused him with another movie reference about a box of chocolate that obviously went right over his head. Jack certainly felt old then but the resulting giggle from her was too endearing for him to be mad. The fact alone that he thought someone was endearing should have been the first warning sign, but this evening was turning out to be much nicer than he could have ever imagined, so Jack ignored it.

They didn't get too personal in their discussions and after about half an hour Jack realized that he didn't even know her name yet. When he pointed that out to her she reached out her hand and just said: "We shared cake, so it's only right we also shared names. I'm Sam." And that was that.

Had the waitress not kindly reminded them both that the diner was closing, they probably would have spent the whole evening talking there. But as it was, Jack asked for a takeaway box for the remaining two pieces of pie and soon they found themselves standing outside in the parking lot.

They had come to a weird unspoken agreement to not share any personal details, and Jack had liked that. Just two strangers sharing a table and some cake. So why did it feel wrong to him to just go their separate ways now? Judging by the way she was stalling to get into her car and him desperately trying to think of a reason to not let her leave, they were both reluctant to let the evening end this way.

Maybe it was the looming threat of a depressing evening in solitude, or maybe it was the most basic human need for the company that pushed Jack to finally ask her: "Would you like to come to my place? We do have some more cake to finish. Unless you have somewhere to be?"

He was praying that that wasn't the case. He kind of regretted not asking about any family or boyfriend she might have. He hadn't even checked her finger for a ring. The fact that this was the first time in a very long time he even thought about the marital status of someone he met wasn't lost on him, and it should have been the second warning sign.

There was a slight hesitation in her voice when she said: "No, I don't really have anywhere to be." The tone of her voice and fact that she said something like this on Christmas almost made Jack want to kick whoever was responsible for it.

He quickly made his decision. "Now you do."

The small smile on her lips was the only confirmation he needed. "Come on. Get in your car and follow me."

Jack couldn't remember the last time he had guests at his house, probably sometime before the mission through the Stargate. So he wasn't at all sad when Sam said she needed to use the bathroom first, it gave him some precious minutes to at least clear the couch table of any clutter and old dishes. That would have to do, he decided with a firm nod to no one but himself.

Five minutes later he heard her come into the kitchen and continued pretending to search for something to drink in his fridge like he didn't damn sure knew that there was nothing in there except for beer.

He shrugged apoplectically. "I'm afraid the only drink I can offer is beer. That or tap water. I wasn't really expecting guests."

"Hm... how about some coffee first?"

"Sure," he agreed and gestured to the living room. "Take a seat and make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you in a sec."

Jack watched her venture into the room and wasn't surprised to see her looking around instead of sitting down. With interest, he observed how she took in the pictures on the wall. There were plenty of pictures on there with Charlie and Sara in them and he half expected her to accuse him of being married, but she said nothing. She lingered in front of the pictures but soon turned to his service medals.

"You're military?" She had her back turned to him while she looked at the various medals on display. Her voice sounded odd as if she had to force herself to sound calmer than she was. She stood very still.

"Retired", he said and waited for her reaction. He couldn't see her face, but she seemed to have reached a decision because a moment later she turned around, her expression betraying nothing of her feelings.

Instead, she smiled. "So how about that coffee?"

"What's the most impressive thing you did this year?", he asked on a whim. They had moved on to the beer now and his first bottle was almost empty.

"I don't know about impressive, but I had a big breakthrough at work. I finally got something to work that I've been struggling with for years."

"That sounds impressive!" Jack said and meant it.

"Yeah," she said and peeled off the label of the bottle in her hand. „Too bad the higher-ups didn't think so. Or they did, but then decided that someone else should get to reap the rewards."

"Well, screw the higher ups then. Nothing I hate more than people not getting recognition for their work."

"I'm still proud of what I accomplished, you know. Just would have been nice to get something more out of it. Anyway, what about you?" She turned to face him.

'I went to a different planet through an alien device and then blew up an alien ship' was Jack's first thought. He wasn't sure if she would think he was crazy or somewhat impressed by his creativity. He almost told her that sometimes the most impressive thing he did was getting out of bed in the morning but deemed that response too depressing.

He finally opted for the light answer to give her. "I built a telescope on my roof." He neglected to tell her about how he hadn't been able to look at it in the basement where it had been collecting dust for a long time. How his imagination sometimes ran wild with the what-ifs in his head, showing him images of Charlie standing with him on the roof and seeing the stars up close for the first time.

"I met a boy who reminded me why I used to love looking at the stars," he continued, thinking of Ska'raa. "So I set up the telescope on my roof."

He startled when she suddenly slid to the edge of the couch. Sam looked at him with big eyes and an even bigger smile, struggling to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Can we go see it?"

Jack was more than a little thankful that tonight the sky was clear of any clouds, otherwise, the little trip to the roof of his house would have been a disappointment. What a shame it would have been to miss out on the way Sam's eyes lit up when she alternated between looking at him and through the telescope. For some reason, she knew a lot about stars and was talking a mile a minute about stellar classifications and electromagnetic radiation. Jack didn't even pretend to know about half of what she was talking about, he was just happy that she was happy.

A little while later they sat on the floor, each bundled up in a blanket to keep the cold out and the now empty cake take away box next to them.

"Thank you," she said suddenly.

"For what?"

"I really thought this would turn out to be the worst Christmas of my life. And when I walked into that diner tonight and with all the cake gone, I was ready to just give up. I thought the universe hated me or something."

Jack waited a moment for her to continue. He had a feeling she wasn't finished yet.

She breathed in deeply as if to brace herself for whatever she would say next. "A week ago, I was engaged. To a man who you kind of reminded me of in the beginning. Both with the Air Force, both a bit stubborn. But you really couldn't be more different. For starters, he was really charming when I first met him." She nudged his shoulder and grinned at him.

He tried to act offended. "How dare you! I was a real charmer. Offered you my cake and everything."

"Yeah, after you insulted me." The twinkle in her eyes stayed for a moment but then she looked away again.

She was silent and stared at the sky, but somehow Jack knew that wasn't all there was to that story. He cleared his throat. "Since you said 'were engaged' I'm guessing there isn't a happy ending."

"No," she said softly. "I think he didn't like that I was smarter than him. He and I had very different ideas about what my future would look like after we're married, or about how we should solve conflicts in our relationship."

A very unpleasant image of that man was forming in Jack's mind. He knew the type and suddenly remembered how long she had stared at the Air Force badges in his living room. He wondered when she had realized that he and that guy were nothing alike.

"A week ago, I broke it off and left. I was so sure that I would have to spend Christmas alone in my hotel room," she continued. "Now I'm really glad that isn't the case. So thank you." She smiled again.

Jack didn't really know what to say to that. He turned to face her and when he spoke again he carefully chose his words.

"Do you remember what you told me about the most impressive thing you did this year? About your work? I think it's even more impressive that you chose to leave him."

She ducked her head and, following an impulse, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen in front of her face. Her eyes snapped up to his again and he froze, not sure if he had acted out of line. They were so close now, that he could swear he could see the reflection of the night sky in her eyes.

About six weeks later from now Jack would meet Samantha Carter again and he would learn that she was the reason he was able to go through the Stargate at all. He would realize just how brilliant she really was, how courageous and strong. He would become her commanding officer, a fact he would sometimes come to regret in the following years. He would learn about Jonas Hanson and understand why she had wanted to spend Christmas 1996 alone in a hotel, why in a moment of weakness her only wish had been a piece of pie for herself and why she had stopped at a diner to get one.

But all of that was six weeks away, and here and now the only thing he knew was the determined look in her eyes when she pulled him towards her and pressed her lips to his.

Jack ignored the tiny voice in his head telling him this was a bad idea, that she was just vulnerable after a bad break-up. Because to be frank, he couldn't form one coherent thought while she was kissing him like that. So he gave in and responded eagerly, wrapping one arm around her in one swift motion. He would never forget the little sound she made in the back of her throat in response. Weirdly there wasn't a rush of lust streaming through him, instead he had never felt more at peace with the world than in that moment.

Looking back, this evening had been surprising, so unexpected and yet so wonderful. As they sat at the top of his house after catching their breath, looking at the stars, he couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy on earth and maybe in the whole galaxy.

'Merry Christmas to us,' he thought as he threaded his fingers through hers and received a brilliant smile in response. 'Merry Christmas indeed.'