It was three weeks after Jacob's death, the Goa'uld were all but routed from the Galaxy, the Replicaters were defeated, the SGC was in possession of a ZPM and Jack had orders to report to D.C. after two weeks down time. And Jack was driving to Minnesota for a week at his cabin; a week of fishing, a week with his friends. To be exact it would be a week with Samantha Carter and just a few days with Daniel and Teal'c. To both Jack and Sam these three weeks seemed as though it had been three years and yet it also passed in a blur as thought it had been three seconds. And in that time so much had been said, so much clarified, so much pain and longing exposed to the light of day and finally so much settled. The door had finally been opened to all that they had imprisoned. They were still getting use to the freedom they finally allowed themselves.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It was so very early, barely dawn he awoke with the edges of a dream crowding in on him. Needing to change his perspective he sat up in bed grabbed his reading glasses and novel from his night table. He looked for the page where he left off. He thought that maybe they would laugh if they found out he liked murder mysteries but he really did like solving puzzles.
This wasn't just some hack, this was Michael Connelly and his Harry Bosch was talking about his "Single Bullet Theory". Yeah thought O'Neill 'I understand that perfectly – that one love, it is like being shot, pierced through and through with a wound that will never heal'. And just like Harry, Jack knew that he would always love her, always bleed for her. He lay the book and glasses down and looked at the woman that shared his bed. She lay on her stomach with her back to him as shafts of the early morning sun were streaming into the room. He kissed her bare shoulder to the back of her neck, ran his fingers through her tousled blond hair and felt, more than saw her smile. Bad dreams faded as he reveled in the present.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
He snored softly and she was amazed how quickly he could fall into a post-coital doze while the adrenalin was still flooding her system. She ran her hand over his skin and mused at the thought of how he always flexed his biceps when she touched them, didn't matter if he were awake or asleep, it was just an automatic response – just a male thing she guessed. And as her finger lightly brushed over his arm she felt the scar. The memories rushed into her – chained to the bed, the doctors with the syringe, the realization that they were about to kill her and then Jack was there and she was safe. He did his nonchalant thing but she could see the vein jumping in his neck. He had been frightened too; frightened that he might be too late, but within the hour he was the one that was face down. While she waited with him in that dark, damp basement for the medics, he went on about sleeves on his vest and what a rat bastard Harry Maybourne was for shooting him in the back but made no attempt to rise. She only realized how serious it was when the medics called for a stretcher and O'Neill didn't object. The bullet wasn't from the gun Jack gave Maybourne but it was an armor piercing one, obviously from someone who was prepared to face a Goa'uld. Jack was lucky the vest did stop the bullet but the impact still did some damage.
Why did she think he was indestructible? Why was he always putting his life on the line, as if it counted for nothing? Was this her fault for locking away the love she felt for him for so many years till he no longer believe it existed? She leaned over and as she dropped a kiss on his arm, a tear dropped too. He woke to see Sam's eyes full of tears and he feared that she had suddenly regretted everything.
"What's wrong?"
"I love you."
He smiled and took her in his arms, rocking her gently and said "Everyone has crosses in life to bear."
The End
TBC in my next story 'The Door'
A/N I highly recommend anything and everything written by Michael Connelly. Jack was reading "Lost Light".