A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I hope it's a good one for you and your loved ones. This is going to be a short multichapter (6-7 chapters) and I hope you will enjoy it. Huge thanks to my betas Aley and Allie They are amazing.

Reviews and feedback is always appreciated.

Starlight Melody

He is running late for the appointment, and for once it is not entirely his fault. Technically, if you look at it from the polluterpays principle. Technically it's the fault of this godforsaken snow and the blocked roads, and the van which slid into a car causing a massive jam on the main street to the Pike Peak Center to which he was supposed to deliver the cake… twenty or so minutes ago. Damn it, these people will never hire him ever again for anything. Not that he needs them to, because his business is doing well enough with the donuts and pastries and all, but his secret passion is cake. Being asked to make a big nice fancy-shmancy cake has been a nice challenge.

The delivery entrance to the backstage area of the auditorium is a slippery mess but Jack manages it the way he manages everything when it comes to work. A simple combination of attention to detail, steady hands and a little bit of luck. Except for one person leaning against the side of the stage door, discman in hand and headphones on their ears, the back area is completely deserted. Great. He hopes the trainee-guy will know what to do with the cake.

When he was first approached five days ago by a guy named Paul Davis on whether he would be able to make a cake for some kind of concert at the Center, he thought the man had been joking. Yes, he owned a bakery and yes Homer's also sold some cakes next to donuts, bread and various other pastries, but the fanciest cake he was ever asked to make were sprinkled cupcakes for little Miranda Nolan's third birthday party. No one had ever requested him to make a… big cake. A Congratulations on Your 25th Concert cake. People would usually go to Abydos, a confectionery owned by Radames and his brother Apophis Gould who are known to bring out the big guns when it comes to wedding, birthday and anniversary cakes. Lots of edible gold, and other knick-knacks usually graced their cakes while Jack tries to keep it plain, simple and all about the taste. So, when this guy had visited him in his shop a few days ago he'd been surprised but pleased they'd asked him to make the cake for whoever it was. It's close to Christmas - Christmas Eve actually - and he can use the money well. Hopefully this Davis guy will like it. A vanilla-blueberry cake with a pink champagne butter cream and self-made clef decorations out of dark Swiss chocolate.

For a moment he wonders whether he should have bothered to look up who was in town for the concert tonight. Listening to classical music while baking relaxes him, helps him to steady his hands and sometimes he even hums along. If anybody finds out, they will surely think he is a big old softie. Daniel knows, but Daniel does not count, because the doctor of archaeology, history and other blah-blah at the University of Colorado who for some reason managed to become one of Jack's very close friends, basically counts as inventory. He's been there from the day his store opened and comes in every morning for coffee and a cherry Danish, as well as during lunch break for whatever Jack's sandwich of the day is. Jack pulls up right next to the steps of the entrance and kills the engine.

Upon closer look, trainee-guy turns out to be a trainee-girl. He was confused for a moment by the short blonde hair and the big puffy dark coat which gives her a rather bulgy look, but the elfin face and clear blue eyes are a drop-dead giveaway. She seems to be humming along to the Christmas music she is listening to.

"Hiya. You work here or have you lost your caroling squadron?"

The woman looks over, curiosity at the newcomer written all over her face. She brushes the headphones back and pushes the discman into one of the rather large pockets on her side which swallows it whole.

"Sorry, sir?"

Great. One of those. Didn't even get his joke. Probably gets paid all day to stand around and do nothing. Jack takes a deep breath before he rounds the truck through three inches of snow and opens the passenger's door.

"Do you work here?" He repeats, a little annoyed. It's not her fault he is annoyed. To be fair, it's the weather, the traffic, the oven which broke earlier this morning and the fact he is late and does not know whether they still need the damn cake in the first place. Be nice to her, Jack. We don't want the lady to think you're a Scrooge.

"You could say that," the woman smiles and makes her way down toward the truck. "Do you need help with anything?" At least she is helpful. Maybe she's not one of those.

"I could really use someone to repair my oven," he smirks, watching her face turn into a confused look, "but right now I think it's alright if you help me with the cake for the event here. I'm a bit late because of the weather and Mr. Davis here wanted this thing to be delivered a while ago. I don't even know if your shinding has started yet…"

She laughs and it's beautiful. God, up close she is pretty. Really pretty. The woman steps closer to take a look at the cake and he is going to be damned because the smile she sends him when she spies the delicious treat could fuel his oven for the next decade.

"I didn't know there was going to be cake. That is really sweet of Paul and no, the concert has not started yet. It's running a bit late as well because we were waiting for the cake to arrive."

Jack's face drops as he sees his $200 and reputation wash down the drain. Great. Just great, O'Neill. There is a giggle right next to him, a giggle which turns into a bubbling little laugh, ringing like jingle bells in his ears. He turns to look at the blonde next to him, eyebrow raised as he watches her whole body shake with laughter.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "It was just… your face. Sorry, I was just kidding."

"About the face or the cake?" Jack asks suspiciously although he is impressed how easily she got one over him. Not many people can throw him off so easily.

"The cake. Your facial expression was hilarious. They are waiting for the main act to finally come on stage and begin her concert." She steps aside so Jack can take out the big red box which contains the cake on a platter.

"Now why would she let the people wait?" Jack wonders aloud, surprised when the blonde answers.

"I think she was waiting for her dad to come and see her play, but he called a few minutes ago telling her he will not make it… again."

"That sucks... but at least there is cake." Jack is looking at her, the bubbling laughter from earlier washed away by a lingering sadness around her eyes but she smiles lightly at his joke. He is about to ask something, when the stage door bursts open and a very worried Paul Davis as well as a huge dark-skinned guy dressed in all black step through.

"Sam! What the hell are you doing? We have been looking all over for you - oh! Mr. O'Neill, finally, the cake. Teal'c, will you please help Mr. O'Neill with the cake and for God's sake Sam, come inside. You're going to catch a cold in this weather."

Sam - it's nice to finally put a name to the face smiles apologetically and shrugs at Jack. Her hand fumbles a piece of paper out of her coat pocket and presses it into his hand. "It was very nice meeting you, Mr. O'Neill. I - uh - I got a spare ticket for the show tonight, so if you are not busy... Oh boy, I don't even know if you like classical music, or if you have time, I…"

"I'd love to see the show, Miss…?"

"Carter. No Miss, please."

"Sam!" Mr. Davis urges and the big guy is already there to take the cake off Jack.

"I think you should go, Carter," Jack muses, grinning when her eyes snatch up to his at the unfamiliar use of her name. "You said 'no Miss, please'." It's a stupid joke, but she laughs nonetheless and then she is gone.

Despite being late, Mr. Davis pays him the full price in cash and when he mentions the ticket, Paul rolls his eyes and lets him into the concert hall through one of the hidden side doors. Jack finds himself a little - okay, understatement - a lot underdressed when he compares his jeans, flannel shirt and green outdoor jacket to the ladies and gentlemen in their evening dresses, which is why he is glad his seat is on the aisle of the second row to the right hand side of the stage. Although his seat neighbor gives him an annoyed glance, Jack pretends not to notice. Instead, his eyes are glued to the stage.

There is a chair in the spotlight at the very front with a cello leaned against it. A complementary piano rests dipped into blue light further in the back of the stage. Interesting. Very interesting. He has expected a big orchestra or something, but not the simplicity of just two instruments.

The lights start to dim, and the murmur of the audience dies down. There is no maestro entering the stage, no orchestra rising. Just a voice who announces: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Samantha Carter for A Night Under the Stars."

Polite applause fills the concert hall as Jack's eyes are expectantly drawn back to the cello on the stage. Samantha Carter? Now wait a minute… He almost lets out a loud laugh, when the woman who steps on stage is no other than the same blonde he was just talking to outside the building at the stage door. She looks different, dressed in a flowing turquoise gown which spreads perfectly wide as she sits down on the chair and spreads her legs in order to lean the cello against her inner left hand thigh. Her dress rides up, exposing two inches of a creamy ankle clad in a dark blue velvety heel.

Suddenly things start to make sense to Jack. The late start of the concert because the main act was missing, the blonde outside, the dad who did not show up and the spare ticket which he can now feel burning inside his pant pocket. It had been she all along.

Samantha gets into position; the applause dies down. Absolute silence fills the hall.

Oh. Oh crap. He just realized he has ruined the surprise cake. Jack's mind is running ten miles an hour. Every single thought is put to a stop though, when she finally starts to play just a tick tock later.

The longing sound of the cello fills the stage and his heart as a melody is played which he has never heard before. The light of the stage is solely on her while she plays, her fingers playing the strings on the fingerboard with such care and grace, while the neck of the instrument is resting against her shoulder. Her eyes are closed as she bows the cello, every bow like a floating touch with such incredible skill and precision. Jack does not dare to breathe.

She plays while the stage around her changes into the night sky with stars starting to light up and the milky way slowly shimmering through. It reminds him of a clear summer night in the mountains where the city lights do not disturb the beauty of the universe. The music carries him out there, to the stars, makes him feel warm and weightless, as if he is floating among them. At one point the piano starts playing along, supporting her play beautifully yet careful to not overshadow her. Not that this is possible. Samantha Carter and her cello are the only presence in the room. The way she moves, the way she plays. Jack is absolutely mesmerized and positively enchanted which is why he feels like it is just wrong that the concert has to come to an end after a good seventy minutes.

The applause is overwhelming. The audience is waking up from the same trance Jack has found himself in, like waking up after a surreal journey to the moon and back to earth. He is one of the first to be standing as she rests her cello back against the chair and bows down to the audience. Her cheeks are slightly flushed now that people have started whooping as she steps forward once again.

Jack can't stop himself and whistles loudly which earns him a glare from his seat neighbor but also her attention. Sam smiles shyly at him, making Jack wonder what she is thinking, whether she knows she pulled a big number on him. Nevertheless, she was simply fantastic. The audience agrees, he agrees, and she should soak up every ounce of applause and appreciation for her work that she can get.

Mr. Davis brings out a bouquet of flowers and the applause picks back up. She leaves the stage with one last bow and multiple mumbles of thank you. Jack could swear he was the last person she looked at before she left the stage.

The concert hall begins to empty out, so Jack gets in line for the exit in order to get back to his car. As nice as it was, he still has to get home and be up early tomorrow for all the last-minute Boxing Day orders he has received over the past few days. His work here is done. He delivered the cake, got paid the full price as well as a free concert ticket as cherry on top.