Categories: Drama, UST, AU
Spoilers/References: '200' (S10), 'The Return' (SGA, S3), 'Heroes' (S7),
Notes: Set sometime shortly between the end of S10 and S4 of Atlantis. Haven't seen S10 yet (we haven't got S9 in Oz yet!), so this is based on spoilers. Hence the decision to make this an AU! Written for the WOTW challenge on the SJFics Yahoo Group – Precipitation.
Much like when she was a little girl, Sam Carter pressed her nose up against the window, watching the rain as it fell steadily downward.
Music played quietly in the background, providing a nice counterpoint to both the rain and the touch of blues Sam was suffering.
Her melancholy gaze fell on the jacket of her dress blues and a brief smile warmed her features. Full bird and command of the Atlantis expedition – How d'you like them apples, Dad?, she mused, wishing that Jacob Carter had been there to witness General O'Neill pin the shiny birds onto her lapels and salute her as 'Colonel Carter'.
General O'Neill.
After more than two years out of the same chain of command, they were still General and Colonel. He'd become increasingly distant during his last year at the SGC and had pretty much dropped out of sight since. Except for the brief visit he'd paid during the celebrations for Cam's 200th trip during the gate – a stupid excuse for a party, but … – this was the first time she'd seen him since he'd left the SGC.
He'd looked good, she'd noted. A little thinner, thanks to his experience with the Lantean Replicators, and more silver had crept into his hair, but he was still the same hale and hearty Jack O'Neill.
Sam closed her eyes, reveling in the broad smile the newly-promoted Lieutenant General had given her when pinning her rank insignia. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so proud. "You done good, Carter," he murmured before returning his attention to the assembled ranks.
"God, Sam, does the term flogging a dead horse mean anything to you?" she murmured. Too many years of painful longing, punctuated by distance and attempts by both to move on.
Poor Pete. She'd heard from him recently when he'd called to let her know he was getting married. He was happy, he'd told her, and wished her the same.
So … was she happy?
She wasn't unhappy, she decided. The stalemate between the General and she had gone on for so long that it had become part of her. Much of the time, she wasn't even aware of it – like the pulse of her veins – but occasionally that pulse would throb and remind her.
A knock on the door brought her out of her solitary pity party – much to her relief – and she got up as the door opened and her team-mates walked in.
Check that. Former team-mates.
Daniel, quite possibly her best friend since Janet had gone.
Teal'c, staunch warrior, gentle giant and proud grandfather.
Cameron, her co-commander on SG-1. Sometimes he annoyed her, sometimes she wanted to smack him upside the head, but he'd thankfully lost the 'gee-whiz' greenhorn thing that had punctuated that first tumultuous year.
And Vala.
The mysterious alien con-woman had surprisingly become a good effective member of the team, her slanted view on life often causing Sam to stop and consider other possibilities. And was becoming a good friend.
"Hey, there, Colonel," Cam drawled with a sloppy salute. "May we humble peons take you to McGinty's and get you thoroughly bombed, wasted, chicken-fried and trashed?"
Sam smiled. "Sure," she said, waving her hand in a vaguely royal fashion. "It'll be good for me to mingle with the hoi polloi. Just give me five to get changed."
She headed into her bedroom and wriggled out of her skirt and blouse before pulling on her favorite black jeans and a cheery red sweater. She yanked a brush through her growing hair and pulled it back into a runty ponytail then dashed some gloss over her lips before rejoining her friends.
"Let's go!" she said brightly.
As they stepped out into the rain, Sam reflected that she was actually pretty happy. She had good friends, a great career, wasn't short of potential suitors.
Why couldn't she accept that? What was it about that cranky sarcastic pain-in-the-ass General that had her thinking that something was missing from her life?
She shoved Jack O'Neill's smirking visage into the corner of her mind where it usually lived when Vala tucked a hand through her arm. "Wake up, darling," the woman said. "You've spaced out on us."
Funny how quickly Vala had adapted to the American vernacular when Teal'c still struggled.
But, then again, he had spent much of his life under the shadow of the Goa'uld, speaking only the words they wished to hear. Whereas Vala had spent god knows how many years kicking, kissing and crying her way into and out of every scheme going.
Sam shook herself mentally. "Sorry," she said. "Just thinking about … what might have been."
Vala nodded and Sam wondered if the other woman was thinking about Adria. Then Vala joggled her arm. "You can't mope today, Colonel! You've three very handsome men here to dance attendance on you, and …"
Daniel clapped a hand over Vala's mouth then dropped it with a disgusted exclamation. Sam giggled, surmising that Vala had licked his hand.
"Sorry, darling," Vala said, slipping her hand down to Daniel's butt and squeezing it.
Daniel didn't even blink – a year ago he would've raised holy hell, but he'd softened greatly toward the brunette recently.
Teal'c stepped into the road, holding out a beefy arm to halt the approaching cab.
They all piled into the cab, Teal'c's stony stare cutting off the driver's complaints about the lack of room. The $50 that Cam palmed him helped too.
Even with Teal'c sitting up front, it was still a squeeze – one that Vala solved by plopping into Daniel's lap and stretching out her legs over Cam and Sam.
"Comfortable?" Daniel asked dryly.
"Immensely, handsome!" Vala purred, leaning over to murmur something into Cam's ear – the import of which Sam didn't catch, but that made Cam laugh.
Get a room, guys, she mused, unsure whether she was referring to Vala and Daniel or Vala and Cam.
At McGinty's, they got out and went into the bar, heading for their regular booth. To find someone already sitting there.
Someone with silver hair, brown eyes and a smirk. "Sir!"
"Hey, Carter," the General replied, the fondness in his voice belying the use of her surname. They'd been 'Sir' and 'Carter' for so long, the names had almost become terms of endearment. "Heard you kids were planning to come here and thought I'd tag along, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," Sam murmured politely, settling down next to him. Close, but not too close – that was how they were.
The waitress came along and gave them a plate of nachos while they perused the menu, but Sam barely picked at them. She was far too aware of the General sitting next to her chatting easily with Daniel and Teal'c, teasing Cam and flirting with Vala.
Flirting with Vala?
Sam watched the two and realized suddenly just how much she missed her own early flirtations with the General – back then, the Colonel.
When had they become strangers?
General O'Neill's thigh pressed against hers as he leaned over her to grab some nachos, and she gulped, feeling her body temperature rise significantly.
"Yo, Carter! You still with us?" the man himself asked, breaking her out of her reverie.
"Oh! Yes, sir," Sam replied with a blush. "Sorry. I was wool-gathering."
She tried not to mind when Vala put her hand on the General's thigh as she leaned over to grab the jug of beer. And she tried not to mind when the brunette's hand lingered as she flirted with all four men.
Vala was just being Vala. There was no malice in her – flirting was something that came as naturally to her as breathing did to anyone else.
Sam sipped glumly at her beer, feeling like the odd man out as her friends and former comrades chatted, laughed and enjoyed each other's company.
Amidst Vala and Cam's noisy discussion of the previous night's NBA game, General O'Neill tilted his handsome head toward Sam. "You okay, Sam?" he murmured.
Sam was startled by his use of her first name – how many years had it been? "I don't know, sir," she replied honestly. "Everything's changing, and I'm not sure I like it."
"You having doubts?" A small smile appeared on the General's face. "You deserve this command, Carter. You've got the technical know-how to shut up McKay, the military authority to keep Sheppard in line, and the diplomacy skills … well, you learned those from yours truly."
Sam laughed at that. Laughed so hard she nearly got beer through her nose. "That wouldn't have taken long, sir," she pointed out cruelly.
The General just smiled at that and then dabbed at her face with a napkin. "Touché."
And Sam felt something inside of her unclench. "It really is good to see you again, sir."
"Back atcha." The General looked uncomfortable and wriggled. "I didn't mean to be such a stranger, it's just …"
"I could've called, emailed, something too," Sam pointed out, more than prepared to take her share of the blame.
"Yeah." The General sighed then held out his hand. "Jack O'Neill."
"Sam Carter." She shook it.
"Friends?" he asked, squeezing her fingers gently.
"Always."
The rain fell down outside but Sam didn't mind at all.