Fic: The Raggedy Edge (8/9)
Title: The Raggedy Edge
Author: Annerb
Summary: During a rescue mission gone awry, Sam and Jack end up stranded in another galaxy where they find themselves passengers on a ship called Serenity.
Wordcount: 40,000+
Rating/Warnings: Older teens for swearing in multiple languages, violence, torture, and such.
Categorization: SG-1/Firefly Crossover, AU, Action/Adventure, Drama
Pairings: BOB. Sam/Jack established relationship, hints of Daniel/Vala, Kaylee/Simon, Mal/Inara, and Jayne/Everyone (at least in his mind).
Season: Post-BDM for Firefly, early season 9 for SG-1
Settling
Simon had Sam in the infirmary, despite her protests. Other than the one bruise to her face, Mal knew none of her injuries were visible, or even physical. He doubted Simon could do anything for those. Jack hovered right behind her though, not touching her, but seeming to wait for the moment she actually unclenched enough to betray some real emotion. Daniel was the one who kept up a steady stream of talk, and instead of finding that annoying or intruding, Jack and Sam just shared relieved smiles when he wasn’t looking.
If Mal’s stint with these folks had taught him anything, it was that these strangers weren’t all that different than his crew. They seemed to form a family no less improbable than his own.
Her perfume reached him first, just a moment before Inara stepped up next to him, looking in on the infirmary as well.
That he’d been surprised to find her aboard Serenity when he got back would be an understatement. “I hear it I have you to thank for my rescue,” Mal said.
“I just gave them a ride.”
A ride some distance from the Training House with little or no warning. It was no small feat, and as much as he knew he shouldn’t think any of it, he couldn’t help turning to her, taking in her calm profile. “You still have my thanks,” he said.
She turned to look at him, holding his gaze just a beat too long. “I’m always happy to help.”
As with most of her words, he was never quite sure what delicate layers of meaning she had hidden in there, or if he was just scrambling for something that wasn’t there like the fool he definitely was.
She looked away. “You always did know how to find them,” she commented.
“What?”
Her head tilted towards the crowd in the infirmary. “Misfits.”
Mal’s lips twisted. “What does that make you?”
She wasn’t quite looking at him, but her lips acted out a careful choreography, the slow burn of a practiced intimate smile that he tried to resent. Tried and mostly failed, as usual.
“I was never overly fond of being told what to do,” she said.
Which was strange for a Companion who from the earliest age must have been told exactly what to do, think, be. But maybe that was why. Why Inara always had a tinge of revolution in her veins.
“Too true,” he said. “And I speak as someone who’s been foolish enough to try.”
She smiled again, only this time something closer to the surface, more genuine he thought. “I should return to the Training House,” she said, taking a step back and easily breaking the moment.
He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you linger a bit? Just until we see how this whole Alliance-Illuminati kerfuffle susses out. I’d hate for you to get caught in the middle of any of it.” They’d passed a small fleet of Alliance vessels on a direct course for Metis as they’d fled in Jack’s quick little ship. Since then there’d been strange bursts of rumor and whispers on the Cortex.
He tried not to read too much into the hearsay and sky is falling panic, but one thing was clear-the Illuminati had bigger problems than their escaped prisoners now.
Inara looked down at her hands, the tiniest gap in her grace as her fingers twisted together. “I suppose that would be the prudent thing to do.”
“Good,” he said with enough relief for her to glance up at him with a raised eyebrow. He coughed, backtracking as best he could. “Kaylee misses you.”
Inara’s lips pressed together. “Of course, she does.”
“Well,” Mal said, suddenly feeling the need to get outside the range of her smile. “I should go see how our guests are faring.”
She nodded, stepping away to head for the mess.
“Mal?”
He turned, looking back at her.
“I miss Kaylee, too,” she tossed back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with humor.
He let himself stand there smiling after her for a while like the damn fool he was before forcing himself back into the infirmary.
It was good to be home.
+++
“Discovered the meaning of life yet?”
Daniel looked up from the screen on his lap to find Sam standing over him. “What?” he asked, blinking up at her.
She gestured at the mess of papers fanned around him. “How’s it going?”
Since returning to Serenity a few days ago, Daniel spent most of his hours sitting here, sifting through the files, trying to get a clearer picture of the Illuminati, their origins and foundations. It seemed important, this explanation for something that so horrified him, the corruption of learning and scientific inquiry. Or maybe he was just using that to fill the hours.
“Slowly,” Daniel answered, shifting some of the papers to make room for Sam on the couch. “You?”
Kaylee had been teaching Sam Serenity’s system so she could find the best way to integrate the phase shifter into the ship’s systems. At any given time, the two women could be found all over the ship with their heads’ lowered together, River never far behind.
Sam dropped down next to Daniel with a weary sigh. “Pretty much the same. I’m beginning to regret that rash promise to help integrate the phase shifter into Serenity. It could very well take the rest of my life.”
They hadn’t talked much about going back to Earth; just let it hang there like an assumption. Some day. Soon.
Daniel wasn’t sure if they were putting off the prospect of being stuck in the jumper together for four weeks, or if it was just the uncertainty of what consequences awaited them back on Earth that kept them on Serenity. On the surface, they were simply fulfilling their half of the bargain. Maybe building back up their strength.
Next to him, Sam leaned back against the couch, her hands lifting to massage at her temples. They hadn’t spoken much since they were reunited, at least not about anything serious. Like the torture he’d caught only a glimpse of but was enough to make him nauseous. But he knew she didn’t want to talk about that anymore than he did, really, so he grabbed on to another topic he’d been toying with.
“So, you didn’t let Teal’c in on your little adventure, huh?”
Sam grimaced, pressing her hands down over her face. “We didn’t exactly give him a choice.” She looked over at Daniel. “He would have come though. You know that.”
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He just wondered exactly how pissed Teal’c was going to be when they eventually did get home.
“We didn’t know if we would ever make it back,” Sam said, sounding a bit defensive of their choice, but it could just be this new brittle edge to her he’d noticed since her rescue. He wondered how new it was. “He has Rya’c and Ishta and an entire nation looking to him. He had way too much to leave behind.”
“And you didn’t?”
Dropping her hands from her face, Sam turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you have a lot to lose?”
Her mouth opened and closed as if she was having a hard time processing the question. She took a deep breath. “That’s…different.”
“Why?” She’d left her career, her brother, her planet, and possibly any last chance at a real life. How was that really any different?
Sam looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “Because I didn’t.”
Daniel was beginning to think he’d lost the thread of this confusing conversation. “Didn’t what?”
“Leave everything behind.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed, and when Sam finally looked up at him, her eyes darted towards the infirmary. He could just make out the soft rumble of voices inside where Simon was giving Jack a wound check up.
“I had what I needed,” Sam said, meeting his gaze squarely.
Daniel had wondered exactly what was going on with Jack and Sam, the obvious closeness they exhibited. He assumed it was maybe some form of comfort they grabbed onto while they were on the run, becoming even more fundamentally a two-person unit by necessity. But staring at Sam now, he was forced to consider that it was way more than comfort.
Daniel was still trying to think of some sort of response when Jack ducked out of the infirmary. “Thanks, Doc,” he was saying back over his shoulder.
Next to Daniel, Sam shifted. “All done?” she asked.
Jack grinned, holding out his arms. “You are looking at a completely stitch-free man.”
Sam’s elbow tapped Daniel’s ribs, sliding him a wry glance. “Yes, well. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Jack pressed one hand to his chest as if mortally offended. “Ye of little faith!”
She smiled, a tired little slash of a gesture, and shook her head. “No, just exhausted.”
Jack’s expression faltered long enough for Daniel to see the worry lodged underneath his typical irreverence. Then he made a big show of clapping his hands, giving both of them a stern glance. “That’s because it’s way past your bedtimes, kiddos.”
“Just five more minutes?” Daniel quipped.
“Okay,” Jack said, “but no bedtime story for you.”
Sam let out a huff of amusement, her shoulder bumping against Daniel’s. “Goodnight, Daniel,” she said. Then she held her hands out to Jack, letting him pull her to her feet, not moving away from him when she reached equilibrium.
“Night,” Daniel said, watching them cross the room, the way Jack’s hand hovered at Sam’s back like it belonged there. They turned into the dormitory and out of sight.
“You look surprised.”
Daniel twisted around to see Vala leaning against the doorway from the cargo hold. He had no idea how long she’d been standing there. Her eyes darted in the direction Jack and Sam just disappeared.
“Is that new?” she asked.
“Yes,” Daniel said, still feeling a little off-balance. Then, rethinking, he was forced to add, “And no.” Shaking his head, he gave Vala a wry smile. “It’s…complicated.”
“It always is,” she said. Crossing the room, she glanced down at the papers spread all over the floor. “One would think you’ve had enough studying for a lifetime, Daniel.”
Leaning back against the couch, Daniel pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. He had to consider that whatever he was looking for-an explanation for everything they’ve gone through, some snippet of information that might somehow make it all worthwhile-just might not exist.
He felt the couch dip as Vala sat down next to him, her fingers trailing down his arm. “Maybe you just need a distraction.”
Peering sideways at her, Daniel didn’t miss the inherent invitation wreathed in her smile, the way her body leaned into his. He'd always thought before that this was just her way, over the top and seductive, but now he began to wonder. He’d watched her closely on Serenity since he got back, noted the way she was a bit adrift, constantly trying to gauge which way the wind was blowing. She was still hoarding food and supplies, he knew, her little game with Jayne playing out on the side, and sometimes he couldn’t help but think of her as a spider, spinning a delicate web, always a new direction to scrabble, no matter how many foundations she lost.
“Have you decided yet?” he asked.
“What?” she said, her voice still warm and liquid.
“Who to throw your lot in with. Us. Them. Maybe just steal a ship and be on your own?”
She looked surprised, her back stiffening beneath the seductive softness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He gave her a weak smile, one finger lifting to trail across her pale cheek. When he looked close enough, past the bluster and bombast, he could find traces of those long months on Shanxi, the fragile angles of her face that she would hate anyone for seeing.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them from taking you away,” he said.
Her expression hardened, her eyes closing off as she pushed up off the couch. “It’s not your job to take care of me, Daniel.” She turned away from him and started for the stairs.
“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Daniel asked, and she stopped halfway across the room, her back still to him. “I could just tell you that we have your back, that we aren’t going to bail on you at the worst possible moment, that that’s just not the kind of thing we do, but something tells me you won’t believe it anyway, no matter what you’ve seen.”
Getting up from the couch he crossed the room to stand behind her, his hands lifting to her shoulders. “I’m not one of your angles, Vala,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”
He had honestly expected her to shove out of his grasp, to leave him standing there with nothing but a sharp-edged retort to remind him that Vala Mal Doran didn’t need people, didn’t need anything but herself. Instead, she stood there as if transfixed, completely still but for the slow, even swell of her breathing.
Daniel dared to step slightly closer; his hands sliding down her arms. “So go ahead,” he said. “Do whatever it is you think you have to. Work your angles, test out the other side. Just don’t be surprised if I’m still here when you’re ready to stop running.”
He didn’t really expect an answer, so didn’t wait for one. Before he really gave the action real thought, he surprised them both by lowering his face to her hair, his lips pressing to the crown of her head.
“Goodnight, Vala,” he said.
Before he could step away though, her hand reached back and grabbed his. She twisted around to face him, looking almost as startled as he did, staring at her fingers like traitors.
“Pleasant dreams,” she finally settled on, her voice somewhere between flippant and confused as she squeezed his fingers once before letting go and escaping up the stairs.
He stood there a while longer, trying to figure out just what exactly had just happened. “You too,” he said to the now empty room.
+++
Days on Serenity quickly fell into routine, the ship’s crew adjusting to accommodate four new people with such ease that Sam began to suspect there had been empty gaps in need of filling. But none of them ever mentioned loss or people who once were, and Sam never asked, so she couldn’t be sure.
Everyone but Jack assumed she wasn’t paying attention when she had schematics in front of her, as she dug her way through the guts of Serenity. Jayne assumed she didn’t see him leering at Vala, while Vala probably thought Sam didn’t notice she was using Jayne’s attention to needle Daniel. Daniel probably didn’t want her to see that it was working. But she did.
She watched Kaylee make doe eyes at Simon, and the way Kaylee made Simon forget to be so perfect all the time. She watched River watch everyone else, the girl’s hands gentle on Serenity like the ship was made of flesh and not just metal. She watched Mal and Inara in the hall together, the way their words were always sharp while their bodies spoke something else entirely.
Sam watched them all as her hands and mind went through the familiar motions, but more often than not it was Jack who caught her eye, who dragged her mind away from Ancient tech and alien ships and the way Zoe was sad all the time without seeming like it on the surface.
At first, Jack spent a lot of time near Daniel, like some unavoidable instinct kept making him double check just in case. It took her a while to realize that it wasn’t just Daniel he was following around, but her too. He never bothered her when she was working-orbiting, but not approaching.
And when she’d had enough and would shove everything aside and drop down on the couch next to him, head on his shoulder, he always looked a bit taken aback. Pleased, but surprised. His fingers played with the ends of her hair and she would wonder how long he’d been looking at her like that-like he’d come not to expect too much from her.
She was lighter, since they got Daniel back, the gravity under her feet finally seeming to even itself out. She didn’t exactly feel like a weightless super hero, but things didn’t hang on her quite so heavy, and it wasn’t until this shift that she realized just how far off mark things had wandered. How much energy she’d put into survival and how little they’d invested in each other, despite their intentions.
They were sitting in her car, the rain plunking hollowly on the roof. In her lap was the plan, the way to save Daniel, the physical evidence of the unspoken agreement they’d made across the briefing room table as the IOA shattered the last of their hopes of avoiding this drastic step.
They were officially out of choices.
She passed the folder to him, resting it on his knee, but when he reached to take it, she put her hand on his, keeping the folder closed over the damning evidence-the words that made them thieves and traitors. He stilled under the touch, waiting for her to speak.
She licked her lips, fighting the dryness of her mouth. “We do this as equals,” she said, her voice quiet in the car, barely louder than the rain.
Equals.
This was her one condition. She could give everything else up. Her job, her career, her life, but she absolutely refused to let this be just another excuse between them. She refused to forget the small handful of clumsy not-quite-dates since he was promoted, the awkward phone conversations laced with promise. It would be too easy to go back to the way things had always been before in the face of this impossible mission.
He was staring at her now; she could feel it against her skin like a physical sensation. She allowed herself one calm breath and then forced herself to look away from the steering wheel, to look up and over at him, to meet his gaze.
His hand twisted under hers, pressing upward so his palm was flush against hers and it should be ridiculous that so far this was the most intimate they’d ever been, if not for the hum of electricity that travels over her skin at the mere touch-the promise of so much more.
“Okay,” he agreed.
It wouldn’t be easy for either of them. His instinct would always be to lead, hers to toe the line, but the journey they were embarking on was untested, unmapped in every way, not just in this one way. They might have to make it all up as they go along.
She leaned across the center console and kissed him.
She feared that maybe all they’d done this last year was find another type of limbo to replace the one they’d already been in. It made her listless, this dawning realization as if waking from a dream, and her work with Kaylee could only distract her so much.
If Sam closed her eyes, sometimes she could still smell that afternoon-damp and leather and skin and electricity.
Other days, it just seemed impossibly far away.
She leaned against Jack’s shoulder, feeling his fingers in her hair, and wondered where exactly she took her wrong step.
+++
Jack wandered Serenity from room to room. He was beginning to get a feel for her, the ship’s personality, the way she fit the people who called her home. He still thought they were all barking mad more often than not, but there were worse things to be, because out here in the dark they were bonded as something more than a team and that was something Jack understood better than most.
He finally tracked down Sam in the engine room.
Leaning over the engine, half climbed into it, she was wearing a pair of worn overalls with a tank top underneath. Her skin glowed with a slight sheen of exertion, a black streak running down one arm. Her hair was twisted back into a messy bun as if done as an afterthought, renegade strands escaping down the back of her neck.
This wasn’t the Carter he knew before they came on this trip, not by a long shot. But neither was this the unyielding machine she’d become during those long months of being run to ground like animals. She seemed at ease, and he wondered if he was finally getting a glimpse of Sam Carter the woman-not the soldier, not the hard ass survivor-but rather the side of her that he had barely begun to catch sparse glimpses of before this whole mess began.
He scuffed his foot on the threshold and Sam didn’t look up from the engine, just waved one hand in his general direction. “Kaylee, did you find that--.”
“Sorry,” Jack said, cutting across her. “It’s just me.”
She looked up, her surprise quickly morphing into genuine pleasure. “Hi,” she said, putting down her tool and wiping her hands on the oversized overalls in a way that revealed a flash of her midriff.
“Just so you know, I totally renounce the skirt,” he said, gazing appreciatively at the tank top she wore.
She laughed, smiling up at him and it was almost like physical impact, that smile, the way she focused in on him to the exclusion of all else. It always knocked him sideways just a bit, because it felt like it had been a long, long time since she really saw him and not the next obstacle, the next scramble.
He stepped closer, one hand unerringly seeking out that exposed patch of flesh, the other lifting to play with the strand of hair flying free near her temple. “Hi,” he said, the back of his hand brushing her cheek.
Her smile slipped as he continued to stare down at her with all the intensity of a long overdue reunion. She’d always been just a little too good at reading him. Her gaze was steady as she looked back at him, her hand fisting in his shirt as if scared he might pull away.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. He didn’t need an apology.
“I shut down on you,” she said.
“We were just trying to survive anyway we could, Carter,” he said and it felt surprisingly right to call her that again, because maybe ‘Sam’, for all the freedom it afforded, really was more an alias than anything.
Her brow furrowed, her eyes slipping just past him and he knew she’d been thinking about this for a while herself, beating herself up about it. “I think, all those years on SG-1,” she said, “it got drilled into my head that the way I feel about you is a weakness. And when things went so horribly wrong here…” Her eyes refocused on him. “I couldn’t risk being weak.”
No wonder she went so cold when he accused her of panicking when she took up Mal’s offer. Well done, O’Neill. “This,” he said, pulling her closer, “what we have, it’s not a weakness, Carter. It never has been.”
“I know,” she said, lacing her arms around his neck. “I’m beginning to think we might not have pulled this off without it.” She gave him a wry glance. “Irrational panic and all.”
Jack winced a bit at having his words tossed back at him, but Sam just laughed, her fingers slipping into his hair. “It’s okay,” she said. “It was leap, hooking up with these people. I know that.”
“In your place I would have done much crazier things if I had to,” he admitted.
Her smile slipped. “And so you did,” she reminded him, his Hail Mary plan to rescue her still fresh in both their minds.
Jack had suspected for a long time now that if anything, this thing between them had kept them alive when everything said they shouldn’t. And he didn’t just mean here in the galaxy, the risks they willingly took for each other, but knew they’d been pushing this boundary since long before.
Sam’s head lowered to his shoulder. “I must admit though,” she said, “I am getting really tired of this bad timing curse we seem to have going.”
That was an understatement. Starting a relationship while undercover in enemy territory probably wasn’t one for the dating advice books. “You mean like our first real date getting preempted by an intergalactic rescue mission?”
She laughed, her fingers trailing along the edge of his collar. “Something like that.”
He thought she sounded a bit wistful, all things told. “Does that mean you want to go on a date?”
She leaned back, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think we’re a little past that, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve ever done anything in the right order to begin with.”
She stared back at him for a moment before a slow smile overtook her face. “True,” she said, tilting her head to one side. “So how exactly do you go about dating someone you’ve been sleeping with for a year?”
“I dunno. I imagine we can work it out.”
“Eventually,” she amended, her tone a bit wry.
Jack smirked at her, backing her slowly up against the console behind her. “Luckily for you, I’m a very patient man.”
“You? Patient?” she teased. Her tone was deceptively light, but he sensed something uncertain hiding just underneath. He wondered if that was what she was really scared of-that he’d lose patience before they finally managed to figure this all out.
Lowering his head to hers, he nodded. “When it comes to things that matter.”
“Jack,” she said, looking up at him in a way that made him feel like he was the only thing in her world. The intensity, the honesty of that look, made him ache because for all they’d technically been together for months, for all the nights spent together, the comfort they took in each other, it was this connection that had been absent for far too long. But here it was, warm and solid and here.
Closing the last distance between them, he leaned in and kissed her. Winding his fingers in her hair, he deepened the kiss and was rewarded with a soft sound of approval from Sam’s throat. She tugged the hem of his shirt free, leaning back just far enough to pull his shirt up and over his head, tossing it absently into some distant corner of the room.
She paused, her fingers lingering on the puckered, new skin of his wound. Even though she’d seen it many times before, the look on her face, it was almost like she was letting herself really feel the terror for the first time. He thought maybe their ability to compartmentalize was a blessing in some ways-it kept them moving even when everything was screaming panic. Just as long as they didn’t let it turn them into robots in between.
Jack hooked a finger under her chin, gently urging her to look up at him. “I’m okay,” he reminded her.
She nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yes, you are,” she said, pulling his mouth back down to hers.
He leaned into her, one hand gripping her thigh as she lifted her leg. She shifted against him, her mouth hot against his throat and he bit back a groan.
“I’m missing that skirt again, right about now,” he said just to hear her laugh, because he had every intention in the world of taking his time with this. He lifted the edge of her tank top, skimming his hands up over her ribs, and he could feel her laughter echo under his fingers.
“So much for patience,” she teased.
He grinned back at her.
“Well,” an intruding voice observed. “That certainly answers that question.”
“Go away, Daniel,” Carter ordered before Jack could manage it himself. There was a time they would have been mortified to be caught out like this, but that was back before far too many months of way too little privacy.
“It’s this room, I’m telling you,” Vala noted. “That engine is an aphrodisiac.”
“And shut the door!” Jack called out.
The door pulled shut, Vala and Daniel’s muffled conversation fading into the distance.
Jack smiled down at Carter. “Now, where were we?”
She slid her hands down his chest. “I believe you were demonstrating what a patient man you are.”
“Right,” he said, feeling her shiver as he trailed his fingers up her thigh. “Exactly how much time do you have?”
Her hands cupped his face, her eyes moving over his features. “There’s no rush.”
Finally.
:: next::
Author: Annerb
Summary: During a rescue mission gone awry, Sam and Jack end up stranded in another galaxy where they find themselves passengers on a ship called Serenity.
Wordcount: 40,000+
Rating/Warnings: Older teens for swearing in multiple languages, violence, torture, and such.
Categorization: SG-1/Firefly Crossover, AU, Action/Adventure, Drama
Pairings: BOB. Sam/Jack established relationship, hints of Daniel/Vala, Kaylee/Simon, Mal/Inara, and Jayne/Everyone (at least in his mind).
Season: Post-BDM for Firefly, early season 9 for SG-1
Settling
Simon had Sam in the infirmary, despite her protests. Other than the one bruise to her face, Mal knew none of her injuries were visible, or even physical. He doubted Simon could do anything for those. Jack hovered right behind her though, not touching her, but seeming to wait for the moment she actually unclenched enough to betray some real emotion. Daniel was the one who kept up a steady stream of talk, and instead of finding that annoying or intruding, Jack and Sam just shared relieved smiles when he wasn’t looking.
If Mal’s stint with these folks had taught him anything, it was that these strangers weren’t all that different than his crew. They seemed to form a family no less improbable than his own.
Her perfume reached him first, just a moment before Inara stepped up next to him, looking in on the infirmary as well.
That he’d been surprised to find her aboard Serenity when he got back would be an understatement. “I hear it I have you to thank for my rescue,” Mal said.
“I just gave them a ride.”
A ride some distance from the Training House with little or no warning. It was no small feat, and as much as he knew he shouldn’t think any of it, he couldn’t help turning to her, taking in her calm profile. “You still have my thanks,” he said.
She turned to look at him, holding his gaze just a beat too long. “I’m always happy to help.”
As with most of her words, he was never quite sure what delicate layers of meaning she had hidden in there, or if he was just scrambling for something that wasn’t there like the fool he definitely was.
She looked away. “You always did know how to find them,” she commented.
“What?”
Her head tilted towards the crowd in the infirmary. “Misfits.”
Mal’s lips twisted. “What does that make you?”
She wasn’t quite looking at him, but her lips acted out a careful choreography, the slow burn of a practiced intimate smile that he tried to resent. Tried and mostly failed, as usual.
“I was never overly fond of being told what to do,” she said.
Which was strange for a Companion who from the earliest age must have been told exactly what to do, think, be. But maybe that was why. Why Inara always had a tinge of revolution in her veins.
“Too true,” he said. “And I speak as someone who’s been foolish enough to try.”
She smiled again, only this time something closer to the surface, more genuine he thought. “I should return to the Training House,” she said, taking a step back and easily breaking the moment.
He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you linger a bit? Just until we see how this whole Alliance-Illuminati kerfuffle susses out. I’d hate for you to get caught in the middle of any of it.” They’d passed a small fleet of Alliance vessels on a direct course for Metis as they’d fled in Jack’s quick little ship. Since then there’d been strange bursts of rumor and whispers on the Cortex.
He tried not to read too much into the hearsay and sky is falling panic, but one thing was clear-the Illuminati had bigger problems than their escaped prisoners now.
Inara looked down at her hands, the tiniest gap in her grace as her fingers twisted together. “I suppose that would be the prudent thing to do.”
“Good,” he said with enough relief for her to glance up at him with a raised eyebrow. He coughed, backtracking as best he could. “Kaylee misses you.”
Inara’s lips pressed together. “Of course, she does.”
“Well,” Mal said, suddenly feeling the need to get outside the range of her smile. “I should go see how our guests are faring.”
She nodded, stepping away to head for the mess.
“Mal?”
He turned, looking back at her.
“I miss Kaylee, too,” she tossed back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with humor.
He let himself stand there smiling after her for a while like the damn fool he was before forcing himself back into the infirmary.
It was good to be home.
+++
“Discovered the meaning of life yet?”
Daniel looked up from the screen on his lap to find Sam standing over him. “What?” he asked, blinking up at her.
She gestured at the mess of papers fanned around him. “How’s it going?”
Since returning to Serenity a few days ago, Daniel spent most of his hours sitting here, sifting through the files, trying to get a clearer picture of the Illuminati, their origins and foundations. It seemed important, this explanation for something that so horrified him, the corruption of learning and scientific inquiry. Or maybe he was just using that to fill the hours.
“Slowly,” Daniel answered, shifting some of the papers to make room for Sam on the couch. “You?”
Kaylee had been teaching Sam Serenity’s system so she could find the best way to integrate the phase shifter into the ship’s systems. At any given time, the two women could be found all over the ship with their heads’ lowered together, River never far behind.
Sam dropped down next to Daniel with a weary sigh. “Pretty much the same. I’m beginning to regret that rash promise to help integrate the phase shifter into Serenity. It could very well take the rest of my life.”
They hadn’t talked much about going back to Earth; just let it hang there like an assumption. Some day. Soon.
Daniel wasn’t sure if they were putting off the prospect of being stuck in the jumper together for four weeks, or if it was just the uncertainty of what consequences awaited them back on Earth that kept them on Serenity. On the surface, they were simply fulfilling their half of the bargain. Maybe building back up their strength.
Next to him, Sam leaned back against the couch, her hands lifting to massage at her temples. They hadn’t spoken much since they were reunited, at least not about anything serious. Like the torture he’d caught only a glimpse of but was enough to make him nauseous. But he knew she didn’t want to talk about that anymore than he did, really, so he grabbed on to another topic he’d been toying with.
“So, you didn’t let Teal’c in on your little adventure, huh?”
Sam grimaced, pressing her hands down over her face. “We didn’t exactly give him a choice.” She looked over at Daniel. “He would have come though. You know that.”
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He just wondered exactly how pissed Teal’c was going to be when they eventually did get home.
“We didn’t know if we would ever make it back,” Sam said, sounding a bit defensive of their choice, but it could just be this new brittle edge to her he’d noticed since her rescue. He wondered how new it was. “He has Rya’c and Ishta and an entire nation looking to him. He had way too much to leave behind.”
“And you didn’t?”
Dropping her hands from her face, Sam turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you have a lot to lose?”
Her mouth opened and closed as if she was having a hard time processing the question. She took a deep breath. “That’s…different.”
“Why?” She’d left her career, her brother, her planet, and possibly any last chance at a real life. How was that really any different?
Sam looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “Because I didn’t.”
Daniel was beginning to think he’d lost the thread of this confusing conversation. “Didn’t what?”
“Leave everything behind.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed, and when Sam finally looked up at him, her eyes darted towards the infirmary. He could just make out the soft rumble of voices inside where Simon was giving Jack a wound check up.
“I had what I needed,” Sam said, meeting his gaze squarely.
Daniel had wondered exactly what was going on with Jack and Sam, the obvious closeness they exhibited. He assumed it was maybe some form of comfort they grabbed onto while they were on the run, becoming even more fundamentally a two-person unit by necessity. But staring at Sam now, he was forced to consider that it was way more than comfort.
Daniel was still trying to think of some sort of response when Jack ducked out of the infirmary. “Thanks, Doc,” he was saying back over his shoulder.
Next to Daniel, Sam shifted. “All done?” she asked.
Jack grinned, holding out his arms. “You are looking at a completely stitch-free man.”
Sam’s elbow tapped Daniel’s ribs, sliding him a wry glance. “Yes, well. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Jack pressed one hand to his chest as if mortally offended. “Ye of little faith!”
She smiled, a tired little slash of a gesture, and shook her head. “No, just exhausted.”
Jack’s expression faltered long enough for Daniel to see the worry lodged underneath his typical irreverence. Then he made a big show of clapping his hands, giving both of them a stern glance. “That’s because it’s way past your bedtimes, kiddos.”
“Just five more minutes?” Daniel quipped.
“Okay,” Jack said, “but no bedtime story for you.”
Sam let out a huff of amusement, her shoulder bumping against Daniel’s. “Goodnight, Daniel,” she said. Then she held her hands out to Jack, letting him pull her to her feet, not moving away from him when she reached equilibrium.
“Night,” Daniel said, watching them cross the room, the way Jack’s hand hovered at Sam’s back like it belonged there. They turned into the dormitory and out of sight.
“You look surprised.”
Daniel twisted around to see Vala leaning against the doorway from the cargo hold. He had no idea how long she’d been standing there. Her eyes darted in the direction Jack and Sam just disappeared.
“Is that new?” she asked.
“Yes,” Daniel said, still feeling a little off-balance. Then, rethinking, he was forced to add, “And no.” Shaking his head, he gave Vala a wry smile. “It’s…complicated.”
“It always is,” she said. Crossing the room, she glanced down at the papers spread all over the floor. “One would think you’ve had enough studying for a lifetime, Daniel.”
Leaning back against the couch, Daniel pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. He had to consider that whatever he was looking for-an explanation for everything they’ve gone through, some snippet of information that might somehow make it all worthwhile-just might not exist.
He felt the couch dip as Vala sat down next to him, her fingers trailing down his arm. “Maybe you just need a distraction.”
Peering sideways at her, Daniel didn’t miss the inherent invitation wreathed in her smile, the way her body leaned into his. He'd always thought before that this was just her way, over the top and seductive, but now he began to wonder. He’d watched her closely on Serenity since he got back, noted the way she was a bit adrift, constantly trying to gauge which way the wind was blowing. She was still hoarding food and supplies, he knew, her little game with Jayne playing out on the side, and sometimes he couldn’t help but think of her as a spider, spinning a delicate web, always a new direction to scrabble, no matter how many foundations she lost.
“Have you decided yet?” he asked.
“What?” she said, her voice still warm and liquid.
“Who to throw your lot in with. Us. Them. Maybe just steal a ship and be on your own?”
She looked surprised, her back stiffening beneath the seductive softness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He gave her a weak smile, one finger lifting to trail across her pale cheek. When he looked close enough, past the bluster and bombast, he could find traces of those long months on Shanxi, the fragile angles of her face that she would hate anyone for seeing.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them from taking you away,” he said.
Her expression hardened, her eyes closing off as she pushed up off the couch. “It’s not your job to take care of me, Daniel.” She turned away from him and started for the stairs.
“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Daniel asked, and she stopped halfway across the room, her back still to him. “I could just tell you that we have your back, that we aren’t going to bail on you at the worst possible moment, that that’s just not the kind of thing we do, but something tells me you won’t believe it anyway, no matter what you’ve seen.”
Getting up from the couch he crossed the room to stand behind her, his hands lifting to her shoulders. “I’m not one of your angles, Vala,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”
He had honestly expected her to shove out of his grasp, to leave him standing there with nothing but a sharp-edged retort to remind him that Vala Mal Doran didn’t need people, didn’t need anything but herself. Instead, she stood there as if transfixed, completely still but for the slow, even swell of her breathing.
Daniel dared to step slightly closer; his hands sliding down her arms. “So go ahead,” he said. “Do whatever it is you think you have to. Work your angles, test out the other side. Just don’t be surprised if I’m still here when you’re ready to stop running.”
He didn’t really expect an answer, so didn’t wait for one. Before he really gave the action real thought, he surprised them both by lowering his face to her hair, his lips pressing to the crown of her head.
“Goodnight, Vala,” he said.
Before he could step away though, her hand reached back and grabbed his. She twisted around to face him, looking almost as startled as he did, staring at her fingers like traitors.
“Pleasant dreams,” she finally settled on, her voice somewhere between flippant and confused as she squeezed his fingers once before letting go and escaping up the stairs.
He stood there a while longer, trying to figure out just what exactly had just happened. “You too,” he said to the now empty room.
+++
Days on Serenity quickly fell into routine, the ship’s crew adjusting to accommodate four new people with such ease that Sam began to suspect there had been empty gaps in need of filling. But none of them ever mentioned loss or people who once were, and Sam never asked, so she couldn’t be sure.
Everyone but Jack assumed she wasn’t paying attention when she had schematics in front of her, as she dug her way through the guts of Serenity. Jayne assumed she didn’t see him leering at Vala, while Vala probably thought Sam didn’t notice she was using Jayne’s attention to needle Daniel. Daniel probably didn’t want her to see that it was working. But she did.
She watched Kaylee make doe eyes at Simon, and the way Kaylee made Simon forget to be so perfect all the time. She watched River watch everyone else, the girl’s hands gentle on Serenity like the ship was made of flesh and not just metal. She watched Mal and Inara in the hall together, the way their words were always sharp while their bodies spoke something else entirely.
Sam watched them all as her hands and mind went through the familiar motions, but more often than not it was Jack who caught her eye, who dragged her mind away from Ancient tech and alien ships and the way Zoe was sad all the time without seeming like it on the surface.
At first, Jack spent a lot of time near Daniel, like some unavoidable instinct kept making him double check just in case. It took her a while to realize that it wasn’t just Daniel he was following around, but her too. He never bothered her when she was working-orbiting, but not approaching.
And when she’d had enough and would shove everything aside and drop down on the couch next to him, head on his shoulder, he always looked a bit taken aback. Pleased, but surprised. His fingers played with the ends of her hair and she would wonder how long he’d been looking at her like that-like he’d come not to expect too much from her.
She was lighter, since they got Daniel back, the gravity under her feet finally seeming to even itself out. She didn’t exactly feel like a weightless super hero, but things didn’t hang on her quite so heavy, and it wasn’t until this shift that she realized just how far off mark things had wandered. How much energy she’d put into survival and how little they’d invested in each other, despite their intentions.
They were sitting in her car, the rain plunking hollowly on the roof. In her lap was the plan, the way to save Daniel, the physical evidence of the unspoken agreement they’d made across the briefing room table as the IOA shattered the last of their hopes of avoiding this drastic step.
They were officially out of choices.
She passed the folder to him, resting it on his knee, but when he reached to take it, she put her hand on his, keeping the folder closed over the damning evidence-the words that made them thieves and traitors. He stilled under the touch, waiting for her to speak.
She licked her lips, fighting the dryness of her mouth. “We do this as equals,” she said, her voice quiet in the car, barely louder than the rain.
Equals.
This was her one condition. She could give everything else up. Her job, her career, her life, but she absolutely refused to let this be just another excuse between them. She refused to forget the small handful of clumsy not-quite-dates since he was promoted, the awkward phone conversations laced with promise. It would be too easy to go back to the way things had always been before in the face of this impossible mission.
He was staring at her now; she could feel it against her skin like a physical sensation. She allowed herself one calm breath and then forced herself to look away from the steering wheel, to look up and over at him, to meet his gaze.
His hand twisted under hers, pressing upward so his palm was flush against hers and it should be ridiculous that so far this was the most intimate they’d ever been, if not for the hum of electricity that travels over her skin at the mere touch-the promise of so much more.
“Okay,” he agreed.
It wouldn’t be easy for either of them. His instinct would always be to lead, hers to toe the line, but the journey they were embarking on was untested, unmapped in every way, not just in this one way. They might have to make it all up as they go along.
She leaned across the center console and kissed him.
She feared that maybe all they’d done this last year was find another type of limbo to replace the one they’d already been in. It made her listless, this dawning realization as if waking from a dream, and her work with Kaylee could only distract her so much.
If Sam closed her eyes, sometimes she could still smell that afternoon-damp and leather and skin and electricity.
Other days, it just seemed impossibly far away.
She leaned against Jack’s shoulder, feeling his fingers in her hair, and wondered where exactly she took her wrong step.
+++
Jack wandered Serenity from room to room. He was beginning to get a feel for her, the ship’s personality, the way she fit the people who called her home. He still thought they were all barking mad more often than not, but there were worse things to be, because out here in the dark they were bonded as something more than a team and that was something Jack understood better than most.
He finally tracked down Sam in the engine room.
Leaning over the engine, half climbed into it, she was wearing a pair of worn overalls with a tank top underneath. Her skin glowed with a slight sheen of exertion, a black streak running down one arm. Her hair was twisted back into a messy bun as if done as an afterthought, renegade strands escaping down the back of her neck.
This wasn’t the Carter he knew before they came on this trip, not by a long shot. But neither was this the unyielding machine she’d become during those long months of being run to ground like animals. She seemed at ease, and he wondered if he was finally getting a glimpse of Sam Carter the woman-not the soldier, not the hard ass survivor-but rather the side of her that he had barely begun to catch sparse glimpses of before this whole mess began.
He scuffed his foot on the threshold and Sam didn’t look up from the engine, just waved one hand in his general direction. “Kaylee, did you find that--.”
“Sorry,” Jack said, cutting across her. “It’s just me.”
She looked up, her surprise quickly morphing into genuine pleasure. “Hi,” she said, putting down her tool and wiping her hands on the oversized overalls in a way that revealed a flash of her midriff.
“Just so you know, I totally renounce the skirt,” he said, gazing appreciatively at the tank top she wore.
She laughed, smiling up at him and it was almost like physical impact, that smile, the way she focused in on him to the exclusion of all else. It always knocked him sideways just a bit, because it felt like it had been a long, long time since she really saw him and not the next obstacle, the next scramble.
He stepped closer, one hand unerringly seeking out that exposed patch of flesh, the other lifting to play with the strand of hair flying free near her temple. “Hi,” he said, the back of his hand brushing her cheek.
Her smile slipped as he continued to stare down at her with all the intensity of a long overdue reunion. She’d always been just a little too good at reading him. Her gaze was steady as she looked back at him, her hand fisting in his shirt as if scared he might pull away.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. He didn’t need an apology.
“I shut down on you,” she said.
“We were just trying to survive anyway we could, Carter,” he said and it felt surprisingly right to call her that again, because maybe ‘Sam’, for all the freedom it afforded, really was more an alias than anything.
Her brow furrowed, her eyes slipping just past him and he knew she’d been thinking about this for a while herself, beating herself up about it. “I think, all those years on SG-1,” she said, “it got drilled into my head that the way I feel about you is a weakness. And when things went so horribly wrong here…” Her eyes refocused on him. “I couldn’t risk being weak.”
No wonder she went so cold when he accused her of panicking when she took up Mal’s offer. Well done, O’Neill. “This,” he said, pulling her closer, “what we have, it’s not a weakness, Carter. It never has been.”
“I know,” she said, lacing her arms around his neck. “I’m beginning to think we might not have pulled this off without it.” She gave him a wry glance. “Irrational panic and all.”
Jack winced a bit at having his words tossed back at him, but Sam just laughed, her fingers slipping into his hair. “It’s okay,” she said. “It was leap, hooking up with these people. I know that.”
“In your place I would have done much crazier things if I had to,” he admitted.
Her smile slipped. “And so you did,” she reminded him, his Hail Mary plan to rescue her still fresh in both their minds.
Jack had suspected for a long time now that if anything, this thing between them had kept them alive when everything said they shouldn’t. And he didn’t just mean here in the galaxy, the risks they willingly took for each other, but knew they’d been pushing this boundary since long before.
Sam’s head lowered to his shoulder. “I must admit though,” she said, “I am getting really tired of this bad timing curse we seem to have going.”
That was an understatement. Starting a relationship while undercover in enemy territory probably wasn’t one for the dating advice books. “You mean like our first real date getting preempted by an intergalactic rescue mission?”
She laughed, her fingers trailing along the edge of his collar. “Something like that.”
He thought she sounded a bit wistful, all things told. “Does that mean you want to go on a date?”
She leaned back, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think we’re a little past that, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve ever done anything in the right order to begin with.”
She stared back at him for a moment before a slow smile overtook her face. “True,” she said, tilting her head to one side. “So how exactly do you go about dating someone you’ve been sleeping with for a year?”
“I dunno. I imagine we can work it out.”
“Eventually,” she amended, her tone a bit wry.
Jack smirked at her, backing her slowly up against the console behind her. “Luckily for you, I’m a very patient man.”
“You? Patient?” she teased. Her tone was deceptively light, but he sensed something uncertain hiding just underneath. He wondered if that was what she was really scared of-that he’d lose patience before they finally managed to figure this all out.
Lowering his head to hers, he nodded. “When it comes to things that matter.”
“Jack,” she said, looking up at him in a way that made him feel like he was the only thing in her world. The intensity, the honesty of that look, made him ache because for all they’d technically been together for months, for all the nights spent together, the comfort they took in each other, it was this connection that had been absent for far too long. But here it was, warm and solid and here.
Closing the last distance between them, he leaned in and kissed her. Winding his fingers in her hair, he deepened the kiss and was rewarded with a soft sound of approval from Sam’s throat. She tugged the hem of his shirt free, leaning back just far enough to pull his shirt up and over his head, tossing it absently into some distant corner of the room.
She paused, her fingers lingering on the puckered, new skin of his wound. Even though she’d seen it many times before, the look on her face, it was almost like she was letting herself really feel the terror for the first time. He thought maybe their ability to compartmentalize was a blessing in some ways-it kept them moving even when everything was screaming panic. Just as long as they didn’t let it turn them into robots in between.
Jack hooked a finger under her chin, gently urging her to look up at him. “I’m okay,” he reminded her.
She nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yes, you are,” she said, pulling his mouth back down to hers.
He leaned into her, one hand gripping her thigh as she lifted her leg. She shifted against him, her mouth hot against his throat and he bit back a groan.
“I’m missing that skirt again, right about now,” he said just to hear her laugh, because he had every intention in the world of taking his time with this. He lifted the edge of her tank top, skimming his hands up over her ribs, and he could feel her laughter echo under his fingers.
“So much for patience,” she teased.
He grinned back at her.
“Well,” an intruding voice observed. “That certainly answers that question.”
“Go away, Daniel,” Carter ordered before Jack could manage it himself. There was a time they would have been mortified to be caught out like this, but that was back before far too many months of way too little privacy.
“It’s this room, I’m telling you,” Vala noted. “That engine is an aphrodisiac.”
“And shut the door!” Jack called out.
The door pulled shut, Vala and Daniel’s muffled conversation fading into the distance.
Jack smiled down at Carter. “Now, where were we?”
She slid her hands down his chest. “I believe you were demonstrating what a patient man you are.”
“Right,” he said, feeling her shiver as he trailed his fingers up her thigh. “Exactly how much time do you have?”
Her hands cupped his face, her eyes moving over his features. “There’s no rush.”
Finally.
:: next::