Fic | The Turning of the World | Sam/Baal, SG1 [FRC]
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRC
Written for: 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: #2 Get out/Get out of here
Word Count: 905
Baal knows Sam's routine almost better than he knows his own, so finding her lab unaccountably empty annoys him. Why can't she be where she's supposed to be? He frowns and stalks the corridors down to Landry's office.
He never knocks. Landry looks up, an irritated expression flickering across his face. Baal decides to cut straight to the point.
“Where is she?”
Landry sits back in his chair. “If you're referring to Colonel Carter, she has the day off.”
He rolls his eyes. “A day off? We're supposed to be working on the phase device. And she said nothing to me.”
“Perhaps she didn't want to,” the general replied. “She made the request late yesterday.”
“For what reasons?”
“Personal ones that I am not prepared to discuss with you. Colonel Carter's private life is exactly that - private.”
“I'm her private life,” Baal reminds the general and smirks at the disgust that shifts over the man's face. “So where is she?”
“On your head be it,” Landry mutters and consults a file. Then holds out a small piece of paper. “Since you are so determined, you have a twelve hour pass. Any longer and it'll be shoot first, ask questions later.”
“You're too kind.”
As Baal heads for the door, Landry says, “Did you ever think that she didn't tell you for a reason?”
He pauses and looks back. “Of course I did.”
~
The information on the paper leads Baal to a wind-swept graveyard, which is something he hadn't expected. Gravel crunches under his feet as he walks the paths, looking for Samantha.
He finds her kneeling as she lays flowers on a grave that is unremarkable except for the name. He stops, suddenly uncertain, suddenly aware of why she might not want him here.
Crap.
She hears him though, looks up. His heart wrenches at the pain on her face. Then it shifts to anger.
“What are you doing here?”
He flinches. “I-”
“Go,” Samantha snaps. “Just go. Get out of here.”
“But-”
“Go!” She points a furious finger. There is nothing of the usual fondness in her expression, no forgiveness. No... love.
He glances from her to the gravestone, then bows his head, defeated.
“I didn't know.” It's a poor excuse. “I'm sorry.”
Baal turns and heads for the exit, his thoughts in turmoil. When did her father die? Why hasn't she told him? Of course that makes Selmak's lack of presence so much more understandable, but...
He stops. Horror seeps through his veins.
Without turning back, he says, “Please tell me this was not my doing.”
She breathes out, but says nothing. The moment stretches and he closes his eyes. He can't have, surely? There's no way she'd be with him if he had.
“No,” she sighs.
His relief is shallow.
“When?”
“Just after. He... he needed to help against the Replicators, but...” She sighs again. Baal looks at her now, unable to keep his back to her when she's in this much distress. She lifts tear-filled eyes. “He slipped into a coma just after we... after Dakara.”
She isn't talking about her father, but he can do the maths.
“I'm sorry,” he says again.
“I miss him. Not that he'd understand...” She smiles wanly at him, then pain flickers. “Do you know why I didn't tell you?”
“Because he hated my guts?”
“Because it occurred to me that I might suffer a similar loss.”
It takes him a moment to realise to what - or rather whom - she's referring to. When he does, he has no words to comfort her with.
“I don't know.”
Her eyes close and a tear slides slowly down her cheek. “I didn't think you would.” She looks at him again. “Would he... would he let you go?”
“It's what makes me, Samantha. You know that.”
She looks away. “Yeah.”
Her voice is broken and there's nothing he can do to heal this. He stares at the gravel at his feet, helpless.
“Samantha.”
“Please don't.”
“I should never have started this.”
He shouldn't have. He's made her break regulation after regulation, risked her career, her friendships. Her life. All because he is too selfish to let her go.
“Baal.”
Her tone pleads with him. He looks at her, sees the agony in her eyes. “I should-”
“Don't leave me.”
A simple request, but ties him down, freezing him where he stands. Almost, he says that he won't. Then knows that is a promise he might not be able to keep.
Turning to her fully, he holds out his hands. She moves into his embrace, her head ducking down to rest on his chest. She's trembling, so he holds her tighter.
He shouldn't have started this. He can't stop it. There's a solution, several actually, but none he is prepared to undertake.
“I can't promise you that,” he says and lifts her chin to gaze into her blue, tear-smoked eyes. He smiles and dries her cheek. “But whatever time I have left is yours, Samantha.”
She lays a hand over his and closes her eyes. He leans in and kisses her. Gently, briefly, hoping that it's enough.
Enough hope, enough promise.
Enough time.
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRC
Written for: 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: #2 Get out/Get out of here
Word Count: 905
Baal knows Sam's routine almost better than he knows his own, so finding her lab unaccountably empty annoys him. Why can't she be where she's supposed to be? He frowns and stalks the corridors down to Landry's office.
He never knocks. Landry looks up, an irritated expression flickering across his face. Baal decides to cut straight to the point.
“Where is she?”
Landry sits back in his chair. “If you're referring to Colonel Carter, she has the day off.”
He rolls his eyes. “A day off? We're supposed to be working on the phase device. And she said nothing to me.”
“Perhaps she didn't want to,” the general replied. “She made the request late yesterday.”
“For what reasons?”
“Personal ones that I am not prepared to discuss with you. Colonel Carter's private life is exactly that - private.”
“I'm her private life,” Baal reminds the general and smirks at the disgust that shifts over the man's face. “So where is she?”
“On your head be it,” Landry mutters and consults a file. Then holds out a small piece of paper. “Since you are so determined, you have a twelve hour pass. Any longer and it'll be shoot first, ask questions later.”
“You're too kind.”
As Baal heads for the door, Landry says, “Did you ever think that she didn't tell you for a reason?”
He pauses and looks back. “Of course I did.”
~
The information on the paper leads Baal to a wind-swept graveyard, which is something he hadn't expected. Gravel crunches under his feet as he walks the paths, looking for Samantha.
He finds her kneeling as she lays flowers on a grave that is unremarkable except for the name. He stops, suddenly uncertain, suddenly aware of why she might not want him here.
Crap.
She hears him though, looks up. His heart wrenches at the pain on her face. Then it shifts to anger.
“What are you doing here?”
He flinches. “I-”
“Go,” Samantha snaps. “Just go. Get out of here.”
“But-”
“Go!” She points a furious finger. There is nothing of the usual fondness in her expression, no forgiveness. No... love.
He glances from her to the gravestone, then bows his head, defeated.
“I didn't know.” It's a poor excuse. “I'm sorry.”
Baal turns and heads for the exit, his thoughts in turmoil. When did her father die? Why hasn't she told him? Of course that makes Selmak's lack of presence so much more understandable, but...
He stops. Horror seeps through his veins.
Without turning back, he says, “Please tell me this was not my doing.”
She breathes out, but says nothing. The moment stretches and he closes his eyes. He can't have, surely? There's no way she'd be with him if he had.
“No,” she sighs.
His relief is shallow.
“When?”
“Just after. He... he needed to help against the Replicators, but...” She sighs again. Baal looks at her now, unable to keep his back to her when she's in this much distress. She lifts tear-filled eyes. “He slipped into a coma just after we... after Dakara.”
She isn't talking about her father, but he can do the maths.
“I'm sorry,” he says again.
“I miss him. Not that he'd understand...” She smiles wanly at him, then pain flickers. “Do you know why I didn't tell you?”
“Because he hated my guts?”
“Because it occurred to me that I might suffer a similar loss.”
It takes him a moment to realise to what - or rather whom - she's referring to. When he does, he has no words to comfort her with.
“I don't know.”
Her eyes close and a tear slides slowly down her cheek. “I didn't think you would.” She looks at him again. “Would he... would he let you go?”
“It's what makes me, Samantha. You know that.”
She looks away. “Yeah.”
Her voice is broken and there's nothing he can do to heal this. He stares at the gravel at his feet, helpless.
“Samantha.”
“Please don't.”
“I should never have started this.”
He shouldn't have. He's made her break regulation after regulation, risked her career, her friendships. Her life. All because he is too selfish to let her go.
“Baal.”
Her tone pleads with him. He looks at her, sees the agony in her eyes. “I should-”
“Don't leave me.”
A simple request, but ties him down, freezing him where he stands. Almost, he says that he won't. Then knows that is a promise he might not be able to keep.
Turning to her fully, he holds out his hands. She moves into his embrace, her head ducking down to rest on his chest. She's trembling, so he holds her tighter.
He shouldn't have started this. He can't stop it. There's a solution, several actually, but none he is prepared to undertake.
“I can't promise you that,” he says and lifts her chin to gaze into her blue, tear-smoked eyes. He smiles and dries her cheek. “But whatever time I have left is yours, Samantha.”
She lays a hand over his and closes her eyes. He leans in and kisses her. Gently, briefly, hoping that it's enough.
Enough hope, enough promise.
Enough time.