Title: Timely
Author: cgb (luberluber@yahoo.com.au)
Web: http://appelsini.tripod.com/Christine/
Category: Jack/ Sam UST Angst(ish)
Archive: Sure
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 1969
Disclaimer: Much respect to Showtime/ Viacom,
MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko
Productions
Summary: "He never hits the ground, of course. No one
ever hits the ground." This is set late in the second
season, post "1969", so prepare for a ride in the
way-back machine. Umm -
figuratively speaking...
For Lil, of course.
*
He rubs his eyes when the fine print gets blurry. He
thinks he could do paperwork in his sleep if he had to
but he's yet to test the theory. He signs his weapon
in, signs an injury report
- Carter has a gash just
above her ankle - signs his house and car away, for
all he knows. He writes his name where he sees
'signature of authorised personnel' and repeats the
process until the pile is gone.
Sam and Daniel are low static in the background. Every
now and then he catches a phrase or two, decides it's
nothing he wants to hear and goes back to signing.
Then Sam starts talking about time travel and he finds
himself tuning in. They went back and forwards in time
and it blows his mind only he's diligently maintaining
this non-plussed expression that even he can't
explain. He puts it down to habit because he's been
this old since he was half this age and he doesn't
know how to be otherwise.
Sometimes, like today, it gets in the way and he's
annoyed with himself and his forty plus funk.
He hears Sam mention a recurring headache she's had
over the past week. She brought it up a couple of days
ago and he sent her to the Doc for a once over. Sam
shrugged it off, said it was nothing that couldn't be
treated with aspirin, and suited herself up for the
next mission.
Now he hears her theorising on its persistence.
"Some kind of interdimensional 'jet lag,'" she says.
"I mean, surely it's ridiculous to jump around the
timeline and not expect a physical toll of some sort."
Sam has an answer for everything so he expects she's
right. He knows he can't get out of bed lately and
he's having the kind of dreams he's too embarrassed to
talk about.
He dreams infrequently so the recurrence of vivid and
disturbing dreams over the space of a week concerns
him.
And the subject matter. He dreams he comes back
through the wormhole accompanied by SG1, as usual,
only when he turns towards them their eyes are
glowing. He wants to scream. He wants to yell, call
for help, shake his team clear of their goddamn
infestation but he is paralysed. And then the General
is there and for a moment he is relieved, until he
sees his eyes shining and the black worm he is
brandishing in Jack's face.
And then there's the dream where he and the rest of
SG1 are being chased by Jaffa. They're running through
the mud and it's dragging them down, slowing them to a
crawl's pace. The Jaffa are able to walk on the mud as
though it were solid ground and they are gaining fast.
And then Daniel starts sinking. Jack reaches to pull
him up only to see Carter sinking in the other
direction. He stretches hands out to one, then the
other, then to both, but they're going under too fast.
And then there's the dream he'd rather not think
about, a dream that surfaces only when he lets his
guard down. He curses himself for remembering it now.
In his defence, he imagines it's not entirely
unexpected and probably quite normal under the
circumstances. You don't work this closely with
someone for nearly two years and not indulge a fantasy
or two. Hell, even Teal'C looks cute after five days
without sleep.
But in the dream it's Carter and she's Goa'uld, coming
at him with her voice low and seductive. She gradually
sheds her clothing and he thinks he might have stolen
those moves from Hathor which is disturbing in itself,
but like Hathor she transfixes him, leaves him
mesmerised by the swaying of her hips and the way she
drags a finger slowly from her shoulder to her navel
as if it's a show just for him.
And then her eyes
flash and she holds out her hand revealing a Goa'uld
bracelet, glowing, draining. His knees buckle and he
falls...
He never hits the ground, of course. No one ever hits
the ground.
He doesn't need Freud to spot the recurring themes,
and maybe it's all quite normal in a position of great
responsibility, but he'd rather not be conjuring
nocturnal visions of his comrades. He tries blaming it
on a lack of private time - time alone to expunge the
frustrations of the job, put euphemistically. It's a
viable explanation. Another good reason to get through
these reports and go home. Soon.
Daniel warms to the subject. "So if I go back in time
and murder my own grandfather, I'll never be born,
right? So how do I go back in time and murder my own
grandfather if I've never been born?" He gesticulates
with a pen in his hand, contemplating it for a moment
before placing it back on the table. He takes off his
glasses and begins wiping them with his fatigues.
Sam shrugs. "It's why they call it a paradox."
"Damn. We should have solved that one while we had the
chance," Jack says.
Sam shifts her chair around to include Jack in the
conversation. "All kidding aside, Jack, we have to try
again. I know it seems crazy..."
"You got that right."
Sam is persistent. "Come on, Jack, don't you want to
know the future? Don't you want to know what happens
to the SGC?"
He knows she's trying to manipulate him, appealing to
the side of him that is curious enough to want to step
through a Stargate in the first place. Of course, he
imagines they'd be instructed against knowing the
future even if they were green lighted to attempt time
travel again, so Sam's appeal is really futile. She
probably knows this, and he doesn't see fit to remind
her. Sometimes these
conversations are more about
talking than actually communicating.
"I'm a simple man, Carter," he says. "I'm just
happy
to know the weather before I go fishing." He throws
her his best-forced smile and she responds by leaning
her head into her hand so she can rub her temples.
Daniel puts his glasses back on and gathers up his
paperwork. "Well," he says. "I'm finished. Anyone
want
to get a bite?"
Sam shakes her head. "No - I'm going to bed early. I
feel like I haven't slept in days." She leans back in
her chair and stretches her arms above her head.
"Raincheck," Jack says.
Daniel smiles a well-at-least-I-tried smile and nods
at them before leaving.
Sam lets her arms fall to her side and rolls her
shoulders. Jack gets to
examine the way her t-shirt
pulls across her breasts as she moves her shoulders
backwards. He catches himself staring and looks away.
She stands and begins packing her stuff away. "I can
do this tomorrow," She says. "You make sure you get
some sleep, huh?"
She looks at him with sisterly concern and he's
grateful. He reminds himself that he's grateful.
She leans over and places a hand on his and it makes
him think that she's been increasing liberal with her
contact over the last six months or so. So this is
familiarity? He isn't sure he appreciates it.
She leaves and his hand feels suddenly cold, missing
the pressure of hers.
He thinks about time travel. And then he does.
He travels forwards in time. Two years, three maybe.
He wakes up with her next to him. Naked and
post-coital with clothes strewn about the room in
obvious abandonment. The sex was great. No, fantastic
- and the evidence is in his aching body, muscles that
don't get used as often or as well as he'd like.
His face is in her hair and he breathes in the scent
of sex and perfume and stale alcohol (neither of them
could get this far without a little intoxicated
courage). There is a
moment when he thinks that this
is bliss, this is what it's all about but it's all too
brief and all too readily replaced by a creeping doubt
that is as familiar as it is unwanted. He moves away
from her.
The movement wakes her.
She turns towards him and her eyes are filled with
confusion, and he knows, he knows all too well, that
if he looks too long he'll see fear and regret.
So he turns away.
And because he's so out of practice, and because it's
just easier this way, he says the wrong thing. He
tells her to forget about it, pretend it never
happened. He says that it's a mistake and she agrees
because she's a good Officer and he's not the only one
who puts duty before self.
And then, weeks later, he'll notice she doesn't touch
his hand like she used to, doesn't reach into his
personal space or come any closer than she needs to.
He notices she doesn't look at him like a brother
anymore. He notices she barely looks at him at all.
He picks up his jacket and swings it over his
shoulder. He gathers the papers and stuffs them
haphazardly into a folder. Like Sam, he'll finish them
tomorrow. Like Sam, he'll try to get a good night's
sleep for once.
Like Sam, he realises the benefits of time travel
because the future is a dream-scape, the moment before
waking when it's all so real.
The moment just before hitting the ground.
Fin
Acknowledgments: Thanks Lil - my girl who is sailing
on Lake George at the moment
- but is entirely
responsible for my Stargate predilection. And Teanna
my other girl and beta-love.