First off, I'd like to wish everyone a Happy New Year! Secondly, I'd like to apologise to you all for my long absence from writing and that somebody out there will remember me and actually read this.

Real life has been hectic to say the least, but I'm hoping that this year will prove to be one in which I can reclaim my awol muse. On a brighter note, I now have a grand-daughter to fuss over and is the cutest thing since her brother was born. He's still cute, but a pickle if ever there was one. Oiy. We had them stay over for New Years and he woke the neighbourhood up at 04:30ish one morning when he turned off the power to our burglar alarm. My ears are still ringing and the neighbours haven't spoken to us since!

Anyway, I hope you all like this little story. Not a long one, sorry, but I have to get back into the practice somehow, so I'm starting small and working up to the bigger ones.

The Funeral

By: LetitiaRichards

Category: Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance.

Setting: Season 8

Spoilers: Divide & Conquer, Chimera, Heroes, Affinity, Reckoning, Threads.

Pairing: Jack/Sam

Rating: General

Summary: Samantha Carter prepares herself for one of the hardest days of her life.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All characters are the property of MGM/UA, Sony, Gekko, and anyone else holding a copyright to the original characters. Intended for entertainment purposes only.

The Funeral

It was still early when Samantha Carter drew back the curtains from her bedroom window and glanced out at the morning sky. She released a deep, soulful sigh when she noted with uncharacteristic apathy that the leaden grey clouds were a perfect reflection of her own sombre mood. Feeling decidedly despondent, she turned around and made her way to the kitchen in the hope that some strong coffee would help wake her from the nightmare in which she seemed to be living lately.

To say that the last few days had been tough on her was an understatement. Some battles had been lost and perhaps one or two had been won, but right now nothing really mattered to her outside the agenda of the day.

For today was the funeral.

She'd been dreading this day. Yes, she knew it would come around one day, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon. Which just went to show that nothing is permanent, despite some things that might appear to be rock steady at the time.

This could have been her funeral.

Instead... it was his.

Thinking about him only brought fresh tears to her eyes and she did her level best to stop them, but nothing she did seemed to prevent the cascade from falling. Frustrated with what she perceived as a failure on her part, she grabbed several tissues and blew her nose in annoyance. She couldn't allow herself to be seen as weak, especially not in front of the general. Sam knew shouldn't be doing this, not now, and certainly not at the graveside service. She had to be strong. And not for the first time did she wish that Janet was still alive. It would have helped her feel a lot calmer if her best friend were at her side but, she would have to content herself with the rest of SG-1 and put on a brave face before the eyes of the military.

When had her life become so complicated? She'd been happy – or at least, she thought she was – until now. Her dad had mentioned it. Said he'd known for a long time that there was something between her and... Jack. More tears. "God! When will this stop!" she cried out loud to the empty house in search of divine intervention over her helplessness. Physically, she was in good shape. Emotionally? Well, that was another matter. If only she could get over the death of the one man who had meant so much to her.

* * *

The dark Air Force limousine pulled up close to where the open grave gaped in readiness for its occupant. Several feet away from the front of the limo, the casket team was carefully removing the coffin from the hearse. Sam felt the familiar sting of tears burning behind her eyes and she closed them tight, refusing to allow the moisture freedom. With the coffin now in position, everyone in uniform presented arms. Pulling herself upright, she saluted proudly. She then watched the honour guard form an escort to the casket team and the chaplain as they slowly headed toward the yawning grave.

Daniel, wearing a smart dark suit, touched her elbow and silently urged her to move toward the graveside, falling in line with the other mourners. Teal'c moved alongside her as they walked slowly to their places of honour.

The general approached them, his face a grey mask as he nodded to the three of them. He took his place beside Sam, ready for the service. He'd seen far too many servicemen, and women, laid to rest in his time and it saddened him that this friend was now among them. Sam turned her tear-stained face toward him, perhaps seeking reassurance of his promise to ensure that everything would be okay, so he nodded and gave her a brief smile, which she returned. Her trust in him was as implicit as it was reassuring.

In his honour, this was to be a full military funeral although they were following his wishes to be buried locally – near to his family. Before he died, he'd stipulated that he not be made into a hero by being interred at Arlington. Never one to be a martyr for the cause, he'd always believed his actions, no matter how heroic at the time, were nothing more than his duty as an officer in the USAF. He had also pointed out with characteristic casualness that whatever he'd done recently was still classified, thus eliminating him from the same privilege as those whose heroism in the field was well known. Understandably, there was no special wall filled with the names of those who'd died out there among the stars to which his could be added. Not like the dark polished marble one dedicated to the masses who gave their lives in Viet Nam. Besides, he'd insisted that he wasn't anyone special and his death was not a result of any war - earthbound or otherwise. It was simply his time.

Sniffing back more tears, Sam stood listening to the military chaplain speaking about the deceased as if he'd known him personally, which she knew wasn't exactly the truth. To her knowledge they'd rarely met – if ever - and probably only for rare formal occasions.

She was utterly heartbroken over the loss of this man... the one person among those at the SGC with whom she could fully relate. He was a dear friend as well as a huge part of her extraordinary family. The thought of his body lying there in the coffin, cold and as still as the grave itself, caused her breath to hitch on a soft sob. And it was at that point that Daniel's hand slipped into hers, gently squeezing it to let her know that he was there. That she wasn't alone in this. That, despite losing her best friend, they were still there to offer her comfort and support. As always.

Pulling herself together was difficult under the circumstances, but she straightened her shoulders and stood to attention when the honour guard moved into position. The loud retort of gunfire shattered the peaceful air, once. Twice. Three times. He'd adamantly denied being a hero, but this was the only way in which they could repay his courage and bravery without too much fuss. He'd claimed to have been a simple man who hated to be singled out for special recognition when he felt it was nothing more than his duty. This humble cemetery may not be Arlington, but it was the next best thing and good enough for him. He deserved this, she told herself as the single bugler sounded the melancholy "Taps" for a fallen comrade.

Sometimes, it felt as if she were living in a bad dream from which she couldn't wake up. Sam was a little startled to see movement so soon, as she'd been miles away in her own thoughts. But time never stands still and, even though she felt slightly detached from reality, she watched the team fold the flag with slow, deliberate and precise movements that reflected the respect and dignity that he'd earned from what seemed a lifetime of service to his country.

With solemn formality, the NCOIC walked toward the general who stood to attention in readiness to play his part as the senior officer. Now, just a few feet apart, the younger man stretched out his arms and passed the folded memento of the deceased's sacrifice on to the general.

With much dignity, the general accepted the symbol of honour and waited for the officer to return to his place before his next move. Solemnly, he stepped forward and presented it to Sam. Clutching the folded flag to her breast, she closed her eyes against a fresh wave of sorrow as it swamped her emotions. Tears leaked from between her lashes as she thought of her loss. Once again, Daniel was there. He rested his hand on her elbow and whispered in her ear that all would be well.

She couldn't have made it through the death and funeral without their help. Daniel and Teal'c were so supportive whilst grieving, too, and the general had been a tower of strength. His support throughout the process had been phenomenal. The loss of this man had shaken them all, coming as it had out of nowhere, but with friends such as these, Sam knew that the pain of parting would be easier to manage.

The ceremony finally came to an end and people began to leave, while the general, Daniel and Teal'c remained at Sam's side. Many of the mourners approached them and spoke of their sympathy and support, which she and the others accepted as graciously as possible under the circumstances.

Glad the worst was over, Sam stood at the side of the grave in silence for a few moments, reflecting on the past. Remembering all the times they had spent together. The familiarity they'd finally shared had been wonderful, but she was especially sad that they hadn't the time to draw closer than they had. Though she was more than grateful for the opportunity to share their lives even if the relationship had been short-lived.

"Sam?"

Turning around, she was engulfed in a tight hug as she felt the familiar burn of fresh tears fill her eyes. After what seemed like a lifetime of sincerely returning the embrace, she pulled herself together and released the woman. "I'm glad you could make it," Sam said. "Um... we're gathering back at the general's house if you'd like to join us there. You're more than welcome of course."

"No, I don't think so. Thanks for the offer, but I have to get back."

"Please come," Sam begged, reaching out to touch her arm.

The woman hesitated, looking back at her husband who'd stayed in the background, unsure of his welcome among so many strangers, especially the military personnel. He knew of SG-1 and the general of course, but that was about his limit.

"Please?"

With a reluctant nod from her distant partner, the lady finally agreed. "I guess we can stay for a little while, but that's all. So, how're you holding up?"

Sam shrugged, trying hard not to cry. Again. It was just so difficult to say anything past the lump still wedged firmly in her throat. The memories of him kept washing over her like a tsunami and she couldn't seem to stop weeping for more than a few minutes at a time. "Oh, I'm okay, or at least I will be, I guess," she finally sighed. "Life goes on, you know...."

"Yes it does... the Air Force way, of course."

With that passing comment, the mourner turned and walked away. Sam chewed on her lip as she watched the woman retreat and rejoin her husband. They were about to leave when they were stopped by the general, who spoke to them for a moment or two, and then shook hands just before letting the couple continue on their way.

Almost feeling more depressed than she could cope with, Sam turned back to the silent casket and bid an unvoiced final goodbye to the man she'd loved and lost. After lingering for a few more moments, reluctant to leave his side, she slowly returned to her friends who were patiently waiting beside the limousine.

Daniel stepped forward and embraced her warmly, whispering assurances of his help and support despite his own sense of grief. Teal'c also hugged her, telling her that he would be there if she needed his help at any time. Sam returned their hugs, thanking them both for everything, explaining that she couldn't have wished for better friends, and that she appreciated all they had done to try to make this day less painful.

When her two teammates tactfully backed away and climbed into the car, Sam was left alone with the general. He smiled at her and gave her a heart-felt hug, too, ignoring protocol and regulations. He was comforting a friend.

Finally pulling away, Sam locked eyes with him. "Thank you, sir, for this."

"It was the least I could do."

"I'm just glad it's all over," she said with a long sigh. "I couldn't have gone through this without your help and support, sir. I'm really grateful for everything you've done."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes, sir. I think I am."

"Good. You know I'll always be there for you, don't you."

"I know, sir. Thanks."

He opened the car door for her but, as she was about to climb in, he grabbed her hand, holding it firmly enough to make her pause and look up at him in surprise.

Sam believed that she could see through those dark eyes right into his soul as he fixed his earnest gaze upon her. Then, with complete honesty, he spoke what had been on his mind of late.

"Right before Jacob died I... I promised him that I'd take care of you. I guess he knew more about us than we did, huh? And I'd really like to do that, Sam, if that's what you want. If not then... well, doesn't matter. Either way, you know that I'll always be there for you. Always."

With emotions in a complete whirl, she knew at once that this was what she wanted more than anything in the world. She replied softly, with a small, somewhat wobbly smile, "I'd like that a lot, thank you."

Jack beamed, and Sam knew without a doubt that her whole future would be safe in his hands. Pete Shanahan was a nice guy, but it wasn't meant to be. This was the real person she'd wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Dad knew it. Pete knew it. And, deep down, so did she. The general knew it too.

So, with somewhat happier tears forming in her eyes, she turned towards the grave for a final time and smiled, silently projecting her thoughts. "Thanks Dad! For everything."

The End

A/N: NCOIC = Non commissioned officer in charge. This person is responsible for overseeing the folding of the flag, and then presents it to either the officer in charge or the next of kin.