The Lemon Parade Part 4
Title: The Lemon Parade Part 4
Author: ardvari
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Disclaimer: Not mine!
A/N: Last part! I hope everyone had a good start to the new year! :)
The Lemon Parade Part 4
Pete calls a day before Daniel and Teal’c are supposed to fly in. She talks on the phone quietly, hissing things, writing things down. Jack leaves her alone, doesn’t hover while she’s in the kitchen dealing with things she wishes she didn’t have to deal with right then and there. Real life is intruding on their little bubble of peace and she’s not happy about it.
He walks out onto the deck, pushes his hands into his pockets and stares at his pond. The wind is pushing small waves against the grassy banks and the clouds above are fluffy and grey at the edges. Maybe they’ll get a thunderstorm tonight, one of those real Minnesota ones full of angry thunder and brighter-than-light lightning. The kind of lightning that slices through the atmosphere to leave its edges burned and smelling like liquid electricity.
She comes and finds him on the deck after she’s done on the phone and then she’s edgy and broody for the rest of the day. She tries to hide it beneath a veneer of fake smiles but he can see right through her and so, finally, he just grabs her hand when she walks by, pulls her against him, and holds her until she cracks.
It doesn’t take long because of everything that’s happened, and she cries quietly, fists bunched into his shirt. He doesn’t ask her what she wants, what’s wrong, doesn’t ask her what he can do to help. He knows that he can be there for her, that that’s the only thing he can do, the only thing she needs.
She falls asleep on the couch that evening, her head on his chest, and while his back is protesting because of the angle he’s at, he doesn’t move until the thunderstorm rolls in. He wakes her up because he wants her to see it, and together they stand in front of the sliding glass doors, watching the lightning as it bruises the sky purple, listening to the thunder. She rests her shoulder against his and smirks up at him.
He finds it surprising how much they can communicate without saying a single thing.
In the morning she gets on top of him, moving in the dim, grey light filtering in through the dusty curtains. She laces her fingers through his, her eyes focused on his, entirely in this moment they’re stealing before the boys arrive.
When they do, she slips into the shower and then greets them afterwards, hugging first Daniel and then Teal’c, and he watches in fascination because there isn’t a trace left of yesterday’s Sam. This is SG-1’s Sam, the team leader, the woman that will stand and fight, the one that will walk through fire for all of them.
She goes out and plays with the generator while he cooks lunch, and when he goes out to tell her to come in, Daniel’s crouched down beside her, nodding at her while she talks. He calls to them both, and Daniel grins at him, touches his arm briefly as he walks by.
“You told him?” Jack asks her, walking back towards the cabin with her.
She wipes her hands on her jeans and he notices for the first time that she’s wearing one of his shirts, near threadbare flannel unbuttoned over one of her tank tops.
“Was I not supposed to?” she asks back, humor in her voice.
“No, I just… I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure if you would,” he says and cringes because now he feels vulnerable.
She smiles up at him, slows down a little so they have a couple more moments before they reach the cabin.
“But I did. And I think Teal’c knows, too,” she says simply.
She doesn’t want to ask him why he thought she’d want to keep this, whatever this is, a bigger secret than they have to. She’s not about to declare her undying love for him or anything like that.
“Teal’c always knows everything,” Jack grumbles and makes her giggle.
They walk into the small kitchen together; fill a couple of plates and then sit down in the living room with the boys, side by side on the couch. He pushes a piece of tomato onto his fork and holds it out to her because this is what they’ve been doing all week and he decides that he doesn’t want to stop now. She smiles and eats it off his fork and Daniel rolls his eyes while Teal’c nods at them.
He marvels at how normal all of this already feels; at how well they’re doing all of this. Washington and the Stargate are still a few days away and he wonders how he’s going to settle down at Homeworld Security without her. How he’s going to do with not being able to see her every day in some form. It’s going to get harder now, he knows that, but there’s really nothing they can do. It’s the way it’s going to be.
They spend the days fishing and the nights whispering, touching, pushing through some of that anxiety about all of the impending changes, about the fact that there’ll be half a country between them when she’s on Earth and more than just one step through the event horizon when she’s not. It’s not like they can make any concrete plans, their lives are unraveling right now, and they need to just go with the flow, live one day at a time.
When Daniel and Teal’c have long gone to bed on their last night at the cabin, Sam and Jack sneak out onto the dock. He grabs the thick quilt off the couch and she takes a couple of bottles of beer. The night is cool and moist and the stars above them are bright. She settles against him, sighs when he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his nose in her hair.
“When are you leaving for Washington?” she asks softly.
“Three days,” he answers and his voice sounds a little off.
“You’re gonna do great things.”
“We’ve always done great things,” he reminds her and she giggles.
It’s true, so very true. They’ve done so many good things, saved the universe so many times. He wonders what the future holds in store for them, wonders but is also a little weary of everything, feeling like there might be another galactic disaster just around the corner. He already knows about the SGC’s budget being cut now that the Goa’uld are officially defeated. He already knows these things and keeps them to himself. She’ll go back to the mountain and she’ll get to make her own decisions about her future, about where she wants to be, what she wants to do. She’ll do great things, too, he’s sure of that.
“What are we gonna do?” she asks, and he knows she’s talking about the two of them now, about whatever-this-is.
He shrugs, tracing the pattern on the quilt with his finger, letting his hand slip underneath and then beneath her shirt to trace the edge of her sweatpants. He likes the feel of her warm skin, the way she shivers slightly at his touch.
“I guess I’ll be at the SGC quite a bit to discuss… matters of affairs or something,” he quips, not answering her question directly.
She nods thoughtfully, her hand finding his beneath the quilt. She holds on to it, lets her fingers play along the back of his hand.
“Maybe, if you wanted to, you could visit me in Washington,” he whispers hopefully.
The wind picks up, whistling through the trees and she closes her eyes, leans her head back against his chest.
“You know I will,” she says.
And he does.
Author: ardvari
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Disclaimer: Not mine!
A/N: Last part! I hope everyone had a good start to the new year! :)
The Lemon Parade Part 4
Pete calls a day before Daniel and Teal’c are supposed to fly in. She talks on the phone quietly, hissing things, writing things down. Jack leaves her alone, doesn’t hover while she’s in the kitchen dealing with things she wishes she didn’t have to deal with right then and there. Real life is intruding on their little bubble of peace and she’s not happy about it.
He walks out onto the deck, pushes his hands into his pockets and stares at his pond. The wind is pushing small waves against the grassy banks and the clouds above are fluffy and grey at the edges. Maybe they’ll get a thunderstorm tonight, one of those real Minnesota ones full of angry thunder and brighter-than-light lightning. The kind of lightning that slices through the atmosphere to leave its edges burned and smelling like liquid electricity.
She comes and finds him on the deck after she’s done on the phone and then she’s edgy and broody for the rest of the day. She tries to hide it beneath a veneer of fake smiles but he can see right through her and so, finally, he just grabs her hand when she walks by, pulls her against him, and holds her until she cracks.
It doesn’t take long because of everything that’s happened, and she cries quietly, fists bunched into his shirt. He doesn’t ask her what she wants, what’s wrong, doesn’t ask her what he can do to help. He knows that he can be there for her, that that’s the only thing he can do, the only thing she needs.
She falls asleep on the couch that evening, her head on his chest, and while his back is protesting because of the angle he’s at, he doesn’t move until the thunderstorm rolls in. He wakes her up because he wants her to see it, and together they stand in front of the sliding glass doors, watching the lightning as it bruises the sky purple, listening to the thunder. She rests her shoulder against his and smirks up at him.
He finds it surprising how much they can communicate without saying a single thing.
In the morning she gets on top of him, moving in the dim, grey light filtering in through the dusty curtains. She laces her fingers through his, her eyes focused on his, entirely in this moment they’re stealing before the boys arrive.
When they do, she slips into the shower and then greets them afterwards, hugging first Daniel and then Teal’c, and he watches in fascination because there isn’t a trace left of yesterday’s Sam. This is SG-1’s Sam, the team leader, the woman that will stand and fight, the one that will walk through fire for all of them.
She goes out and plays with the generator while he cooks lunch, and when he goes out to tell her to come in, Daniel’s crouched down beside her, nodding at her while she talks. He calls to them both, and Daniel grins at him, touches his arm briefly as he walks by.
“You told him?” Jack asks her, walking back towards the cabin with her.
She wipes her hands on her jeans and he notices for the first time that she’s wearing one of his shirts, near threadbare flannel unbuttoned over one of her tank tops.
“Was I not supposed to?” she asks back, humor in her voice.
“No, I just… I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure if you would,” he says and cringes because now he feels vulnerable.
She smiles up at him, slows down a little so they have a couple more moments before they reach the cabin.
“But I did. And I think Teal’c knows, too,” she says simply.
She doesn’t want to ask him why he thought she’d want to keep this, whatever this is, a bigger secret than they have to. She’s not about to declare her undying love for him or anything like that.
“Teal’c always knows everything,” Jack grumbles and makes her giggle.
They walk into the small kitchen together; fill a couple of plates and then sit down in the living room with the boys, side by side on the couch. He pushes a piece of tomato onto his fork and holds it out to her because this is what they’ve been doing all week and he decides that he doesn’t want to stop now. She smiles and eats it off his fork and Daniel rolls his eyes while Teal’c nods at them.
He marvels at how normal all of this already feels; at how well they’re doing all of this. Washington and the Stargate are still a few days away and he wonders how he’s going to settle down at Homeworld Security without her. How he’s going to do with not being able to see her every day in some form. It’s going to get harder now, he knows that, but there’s really nothing they can do. It’s the way it’s going to be.
They spend the days fishing and the nights whispering, touching, pushing through some of that anxiety about all of the impending changes, about the fact that there’ll be half a country between them when she’s on Earth and more than just one step through the event horizon when she’s not. It’s not like they can make any concrete plans, their lives are unraveling right now, and they need to just go with the flow, live one day at a time.
When Daniel and Teal’c have long gone to bed on their last night at the cabin, Sam and Jack sneak out onto the dock. He grabs the thick quilt off the couch and she takes a couple of bottles of beer. The night is cool and moist and the stars above them are bright. She settles against him, sighs when he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his nose in her hair.
“When are you leaving for Washington?” she asks softly.
“Three days,” he answers and his voice sounds a little off.
“You’re gonna do great things.”
“We’ve always done great things,” he reminds her and she giggles.
It’s true, so very true. They’ve done so many good things, saved the universe so many times. He wonders what the future holds in store for them, wonders but is also a little weary of everything, feeling like there might be another galactic disaster just around the corner. He already knows about the SGC’s budget being cut now that the Goa’uld are officially defeated. He already knows these things and keeps them to himself. She’ll go back to the mountain and she’ll get to make her own decisions about her future, about where she wants to be, what she wants to do. She’ll do great things, too, he’s sure of that.
“What are we gonna do?” she asks, and he knows she’s talking about the two of them now, about whatever-this-is.
He shrugs, tracing the pattern on the quilt with his finger, letting his hand slip underneath and then beneath her shirt to trace the edge of her sweatpants. He likes the feel of her warm skin, the way she shivers slightly at his touch.
“I guess I’ll be at the SGC quite a bit to discuss… matters of affairs or something,” he quips, not answering her question directly.
She nods thoughtfully, her hand finding his beneath the quilt. She holds on to it, lets her fingers play along the back of his hand.
“Maybe, if you wanted to, you could visit me in Washington,” he whispers hopefully.
The wind picks up, whistling through the trees and she closes her eyes, leans her head back against his chest.
“You know I will,” she says.
And he does.