Chapter Text
Satin. Carter would probably pick satin for her wedding dress. Maybe lace.
Nursing his fourth beer, General Jack O’Neill slouched in his recliner, his long legs bent at the knee. The sun had set about an hour ago, but he hadn’t felt the need to turn on the light.
With everything that was going on in the galaxy lately, the imminence of Carter’s nuptials had taken him by surprise—less than a month away. He was happy for her really. Why wouldn’t he be? She had given so much of her life to the Air Force and to Earth that she deserved some happiness for herself.
But he wasn’t an idiot. He knew what some people around the base thought about the history he had never really had with Carter. But that didn’t really matter, did it? It had never been what she wanted, at least, not enough that she wanted to do something about it.
Jack took another swig and plunked his aching head back against the headrest.
And why would she have wanted to do something about it? He was old, at least compared to her. He only understood about a quarter of the things she said. Sure, he made her smile pretty often, but you can’t build a life on smiles, can you?
Then again, her smile was something else. That first day they met, even under her tough girl exterior, a smile lurked beneath the mask. And as they had gotten more accustomed to one another, it only became more radiant. Sometimes he had to look away.
Then again, it had been a while since he had seen that smile regularly. It kind of made sense. Carter hadn’t been having the easiest time lately. With Jacob being gone and Fraiser’s death and his own near-death adventure in Antarctica, it seemed like maybe there were some reasons not to smile.
But Pete was here. She should at least be happy about that. Shouldn’t she? Not that she would be comfortable sharing that part of her life with him. She probably felt sorry for him too like half of the base did. Jack had walked in on more than one conversation between officers discussing their wedding invitations. The conversation always ended abruptly and awkwardly when they noticed him in the room.
Jack had gotten an invitation himself. Not getting one might have been the only thing that could be worse than getting one.
Pulling himself forward by the arm of his chair, Jack slid open the side table drawer and pulled out the invitation
“Jacob Carter kindly requests the honor of your presence at the wedding of his daughter
Samantha Carter
To
Peter Shanahan”
Et Cetera, ad Nauseum...
Biggest load of bullshit. Jacob hadn’t even met Pete, and Jack was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be thrilled with him when he did.
Jack tossed the invitation onto the table, and a small white card fluttered to his lap from its folds. Dark, boring letters printed on the front looked nothing like the loopy blue digits on the back.
Kerry Johnson and her personal number. ‘Just in case,’ she had offered flirtatiously.
In case of what? In case the only woman you’ve wanted for seven years gets married?
Jack tossed the card on top of the wedding invitation, but seeing Kerry’s name right there next to Carter’s was unsettling. Kerry’s flirtatious smirk didn’t belong next to Carter’s smile that oozed innocent joy and intelligence. Carter’s smile that he hadn’t seen lately.
Jack pulled the invitation back into his fingers and traced thumb over the embossed letters of her name. He finished his fourth beer—warm by now—and fingered the buttons on his phone.
This was probably a bad idea, but it was the only idea he had.
“Sir?” Carter’s groggy voice sounded in his ear, and silently, he considered again that this was a bad idea.
“Everything okay, Sir?” she spoke again, and thanks to damn caller ID, he had no choice but to answer.
“I didn’t RSVP,” he offered, letting his eyes fall to the lily-adorned card in his hand.
“What? To what?” she asked, sounding only slightly more awake.
“Your wedding. I missed the deadline.”
“Oh,” she answered, and they both sat in silence. Maybe she didn’t know what to say either. “That’s okay. I just assumed you couldn’t make it.”
That was just like Carter to try to bleed the situation of its discomfort. But Jack kind of thought they might need to be uncomfortable.
“No, you didn’t.” Maybe it was stupid to throw out that implied accusation.
“No,” she agreed. “I didn’t.”
“I want to come.”
“You do?” she asked. For self-preservation, Jack convinced himself that he imagined the hurt in her voice.
“Of course, I do. It’s not every day that my favorite Colonel gets married to someone who makes her deliriously happy, is it?”
A different silence descended—one full of tension and an unspoken accusation. Whether the accusation was born of intuition or bitterness remained to be seen.
“Anyway, can I bring a date?”
“What?”
“A date. An escort. A female companion.”
“Oh, I guess... uhh...”
A sinister grin curved across Jack’s face as she stammered.
“Yes,” she finally answered. “You can bring a date.”
“You sure?” he asked. “Because you don’t sound sure.”
“No, I’m sure,” she sounded more confident now. “You just caught me off guard.”
Jack let the words hang in the air and quickly debated the wisdom of his next words. But they rang too true to be ignored.
“I know the feeling.” Nothing had caught him off guard more than the sight of her happy to be with someone else.
Jack cursed himself for loading too many rounds into the magazine before he dialed Carter’s number. He hadn’t meant to bring up any of this even by implication. He hadn’t meant to make her feel bad.
“Sir,” she spoke, and the word landed like a blow. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Carter,” Jack retreated. It wasn’t good form to be an ass to someone you cared about, even if they didn’t care about you the way that you wanted them to. “Just be happy. That’s one order that I expect you to follow.”
He thought he heard a sniffle in his ear, but that didn’t seem like Carter.
“Yes, Sir. I’m glad you’re coming. It wouldn’t have been right without you there.”
“But now it will be? Right, I mean.”
It was a stupid question with no good answer. Jack was moments away from changing the subject when she answered.
“I don’t know.”
For too long, Jack sat silently, wondering why he had asked in the first place. No answer would have given him a moment’s peace, but the one she chose might have been the worst possibility.
“Forget it,” he dismissed. “It’s none of my business.”
“Actually, it is.”
“How do you figure?”
“I think you know.”
“See, that’s the thing about you, Carter. You give me way too much credit.”
“I don’t think I do, Sir.”
The honorific on her tongue was a reminder of why it just didn’t matter who was right. There was no point in dragging out the agony.
“Be that as it may, I’ll see you at the wedding. Before too, but, you know... also at the wedding. Your wedding.”
“And you’re going to bring a date,” Carter stated rather than asked as if she were trying to get used to the idea.
“If she’ll have me,” Jack answered, fingering the little white card.
“She will.”
“You don’t even know who it is.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Your confidence may be misplaced.” Carter had always thought too much of him. At least that had never changed.
“Jack,” Carter gave an annoyed sigh and her exasperation had reached its boiling point apparently. It wasn’t safe to continue this conversation if she was going to call him that.
“Goodnight, Carter,” he dismissed, and like the good little soldier, she followed his lead.
“Goodnight, Sir.”
Jack ended the call and toyed with the idea of calling Kerry tonight. But it was late, and he was in a foul mood. Kerry could wait until morning.
Someone had a lot of nerve. It had to be oh-one-hundred, yet here Jack was, walking to his front door, barefoot and sleep-rumpled. He sighed when he peeked through the window. Yeah, she had a lot of nerve.
The door had the audacity to creak when he opened it to reveal Carter in her black yoga pants and denim jacket.
“Can I come in?” she asked, twisting her intertwined fingers together in front of her.
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“No,” she admitted. “Can I come in?”
“Knock yourself out,” Jack offered and stepped aside. She moved quickly, as if she thought he might rescind his offer. Jack closed the door behind her and crossed his arms over his chest. Carter turned to find him leaning against the door and waiting. He hadn’t knocked on her door, and he wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating tonight.
“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Carter began, looking as unsure as she had in some of their earlier days while she stood in the archway of his dining room. “And it’s the middle of the night, so I can’t say I was just in the neighborhood.”
“You could,” he argued, just to be difficult.
“I could, but it wouldn’t be right," she shrugged. "Just like it wouldn’t be right if you didn’t come to my wedding.”
“I think we already covered that," he sniffed, attempting nonchalance. "I’ll be there.”
“You'll be there,” she agreed, nibbling her lip and inspecting his carpeting. “But you won’t be happy about it. Will you?”
Jack let her question hang in the air. He should lie to her. It was what she needed to move on with her life. He should give her the final out she was asking for, but then, Jack wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating tonight.
“Carter, I don’t know that it matters how I—”
“I won’t. I won’t be happy about it," Sam's eyes pierced his with a stare that looked suddenly brave. "That’s what I came here to say. And I thought that maybe I could just come here and say it, and if I’m out of line, or if I’m just living in the past, you can tell me. Tell me to forget about it, and I promise I’ll try. And then we can both just pretend that I never showed up here tonight—that I never said anything.”
“Seems like I don’t have a choice," he concluded. "A familiar situation.”
“But you do. That’s why I’m here. I know it’s been a long time since you and I even said these things out loud, but I want you to know that it hasn’t been easy for me. I don’t say that so you’ll feel sorry for me, I just want you to know. There were things I wanted for so long, and I’ve tried to let go. I did. But I don’t think I can let go until I know for certain that...”
Jack wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating when Carter first started her verbal meandering, but as she walked deeper into the weeds, he watched her get lost. With every word she looked more scared, more lost, and that did something to him. Her pause lingered, so Jack uncrossed his arms and did his best not to look grumpy.
“Carter?" he prompted. "Until you know what?”
She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them with fresh resolve.
“I can’t let go until I know that you have too. As long as I can tell myself there’s still a chance, I don’t think it will ever feel right with someone else. And I know..." Sam raked her fingers through her short, soft hair. "God, I know this isn’t your problem, and I have no right to ask you to fix this. But I've tried. I’ve tried so hard on my own, and I’m 99% sure that I’m an idiot, and you’re just standing there feeling sorry for me right now and wondering how I could still think that you even give me a second thought. I got engaged to someone else, for God’s sake. But I take chances. It’s what we do. And I think there’s a 1% chance that you still care about me," Sam looked lost and hopeful at the same time. "And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to convince myself that you don’t unless you tell me that I’m wrong.”
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation,” Jack answered her dismissively.
“I know. God, I know. Why do you think I put it off for so long?”
“So, what’s a few more years of putting it off?” Jack felt the cruelty of his own words, but they still had the same old problems, didn't they?
Carter’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled all of her manic energy.
“I’m sorry,” she offered as she stepped closer to the door, and consequently, closer to Jack. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed, but didn’t budge from his position blocking the exit. Maybe they still had the same old problems, but this was the closest they had been to the truth in years, and even if he couldn't have her, he didn't want to let go of this moment.
“I’ll just go,” she repeated, placing her hand on the handle.
“I can’t let you go, Carter,” Jack admitted, finally letting the mask slip away.
“You said it yourself," Sam sounded dejected now. "I shouldn’t be here.”
“You shouldn’t,” he agreed, and finally she looked up. Jack heard his voice waver in his next admission. “But I can’t let you go.”
“Why not?” she persisted and pressed her forehead against the door as if she couldn't trust herself to look at him.
“Because I will always care about you.”
Jack saw the confusion in her eyes when she looked his way.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered her disbelief.
“Then why are you here? Why did you come here tonight if you weren’t going to believe me anyway?”
“I never thought you’d say that.”
Jack scoffed and pushed away from the door, allowing her an exit if she still wanted one. He stood behind her so the only part of her face he could see was her profile as she leaned heavily against the exit.
“Or maybe that’s just not what you wanted to hear. Maybe you didn’t come here for the truth,” Jack was ranting just a little, but damn it, it was his turn. “Maybe you just came here to clear your conscience because you can’t stand putting yourself first. It’s always someone else that needs something from Carter so she can’t possibly just take something good for herself. Well, I’m sorry. I won’t be the scapegoat. You wanna get married? Go for it. Go be happy. I won’t be the reason for your self-sacrifice—not this time. I care about you, but I’ll be damned if I stand in the way of something you really want.”
“What I really want?” Carter returned his earlier scoff.
“Yeah, what is that exactly?”
“I want you, Jack!” Carter’s eyes had tears in them, and he thought they had to be angry. She turned to face him, and that bravery almost broke him. “I have always wanted you, but what the hell difference does it make?”
It seemed to Jack like it made all the difference. I want you was a far cry from None of this has to leave this room.
“You’re still my superior. It’s still against regulations.”
A quick swipe of her fingers flicked away a tear that looked more hopeless than angry now. If there was one thing with which Jack O’Neill had plenty of practice, it was making sure that Carter didn’t lose hope.
“What if I weren’t your superior? What if there were no regs?” Jack asked, fighting the urge to touch her arm and pull her closer.
“‘What ifs’ can’t keep me warm at night,” she shrugged.
“Work with me, Carter. I’m not real good at this stuff, and I could use the assist.”
“I guess, if you weren’t my superior,” Carter’s voice had grown soft, as if she were waiting for a reason to feel confident. “It would depend on what you wanted too.”
“Do you think...” Jack stepped closer and reached for her hand before pulling back short. “Do you think that the regs—the fact that we can’t... If that were gone, do you think it would lose the appeal?”
Carter’s brow rose in disbelief.
“You’re serious? You think I’m that shallow?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just kinda hard to know what I’m working with here.”
“I know the feeling,” Carter sighed her frustration and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Okay, I dragged you out of bed. It’s only fair that I answer your questions. So, for everything I’m about to say just know that it would only go that way if you felt the same way. And promise me that if I go too far, you’ll just forget I said anything because... God, it’s embarrassing.”
“Understood,” Jack agreed and grinned faintly at the hope he felt that she might finally be honest with him.
“If it weren’t criminal, I wouldn’t have to drive across town to talk to you in the middle of the night. And I wouldn’t have to be so careful about what I said or how I touched you or... anything really. I feel like I’m on eggshells with you. I can’t be real because of how it might look, and I hate that.”
“I don’t know,” he argued. “I think I know you pretty well.”
“Parts of me, yes,” she agreed. “Not the parts that...” Carter faltered, a blush covering her cheeks, and in spite of himself, Jack grinned. “Anyway, if it weren’t criminal—”
“No, no. Let’s go back to these parts of you that I don’t know. Tell me what they want.”
“I don’t just care about you, Jack.” Carter indulged his curiosity. “I... want you.”
“As in...” Maybe he was being cruel now with the way he was forcing the issue.
“I want to be your lover,” she answered clearly. “Do you want that too?”
The question turned around on him took him aback, but there was only one answer.
“Yes,” he confessed, and Carter’s hand was in his as she crept closer. The exit was still within reach, but now it seemed as if they had both forgotten about that option. Carter was only a breath away now, brushing the tip of her nose across his cheek until her lips rested by his ear.
“And do you want to kiss me?”
Her question was hot against his ear, and her hair smelled sweet when he tried to draw in a fortifying breath. Jack gripped her waist to steady himself against her assault.
“Yes,” he whispered, surprising himself again with his succinct honesty. But she wasn’t just asking questions now. Carter’s lips pressed against his cheek in tiny warnings of what was to come. Her lips were only a sigh away from his now, and her blue eyes looked hazy.
“Kiss me, Jack,” she asked, running her fingers along the nape of his neck. Everything about her was tempting, but the way his name sounded foreign on her tongue was a reminder.
“No,” he whispered and stepped back. The hurt crinkle of her brow made him hate himself even more than normal. “Not like this.”
“Not like this? Then how?”
“You’re engaged, Sam. And no matter how confusing this...” helplessly, Jack waved a hand between them, “thing is between us, I know you. I know you’d regret it while you’re still with him. I won’t be one of your regrets.”
“You’re right,” Sam agreed, letting the anticipation leave her body. “So...” Sam reached for the door knob. “Goodnight then, I guess.”
Jack tried to hide his disappointment. It was the right call to send her packing, but saying goodnight felt wrong.
“Yeah. Goodnight.”
It helped a little that Sam looked disappointed too, but still she walked out the door and climbed into her car.
Jack shut the door and locked it, unwilling to watch her drive away. Too little, too late Jack realized that he should have asked her what came next for them. That was always why he had shied away from these conversations in the past—never knowing how it would change anything.
There was no way he was getting back to sleep now, so Jack grabbed the TV remote and threw himself back against the couch, his too long legs resting atop the armrest. Across the room, he saw Sam’s wedding invitation and Kerry's business card. It would have suited him just fine if he had never seen either of those scraps of cardboard. Just as he was coaxing motivation into his tired limbs to get up and throw both of them into the trash, a knock sounded on his front door. She had a lot of nerve. Checking through the window that it was still her, Jack tried and failed to be disappointed in his own satisfaction at her form mostly in shadow but illuminated by the glow of his porch light.
Jack opened the door to find her on her phone.
“I know, Pete,” she spoke into the receiver, her eyes downcast. “I didn’t want it to end this way.”
She was silent, and Jack heard the muffled, male voice from the other end of the call.
“It wouldn’t have been right to wait,” she argued gently, and her blue eyes, clear for the first time that night met his. ”Not when I know that I feel this way about someone else.”
A long silence followed with Jack’s heart struggling to stay calm. If he wasn’t mistaken, Carter had just broken up with the cop while she stood there on his doorstep.
“Goodbye, Pete,” she offered him as kindly as she could and flipped her phone shut.
“Goodbye?” Jack asked her with a raised brow. “Not goodnight?”
Intentionally, Carter slipped her engagement ring off of her finger and tucked it into her jacket pocket.
“Not ’goodnight’,” she confirmed, holding up her bare hand and wiggling her fingers like an invitation to all sorts of misbehaving, “Can I come back in?”