Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.
Okay, next in the 'Remedied' series, set soon (very soon) after The Night Before. A large part of this relates to something mentioned only in passing in AWOL - so you'll need to have read that to really appreciate this. Feedback would be loved. General knowledge of season six is required.
Huggles to AJ and Ann.
*
The pillow bore the brunt of his frustration.
Long after she'd dressed and left the house, responding to the urgent call from the SGC, he was still alternately punching, twisting, and almost tearing the defenceless pillow that had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at exactly the right time.
Argh!
It was his own damn fault. He'd been hell bent on doing everything he hadn't done the first time he'd gotten engaged. The candles, the bath, the overt attempt at romance...if he hadn't done any of that and simply asked, he'd know by now.
But...no. He couldn't regret the evening - even if he knees could.
Far, far too frustrated to sleep now, he finally stopped torturing the pillow - by throwing it across the room, naturally - and flopped back down until he was laying out flat on the mattress.
He could only assume that the fact this bugged him so much meant that he *really* wanted to ask her - but that was kind of a no-brainer.
When it got to the point where just thinking about her made him smile and all he wanted was for her to be happy...well, it was kinda obvious.
If unbelievably soppy.
Deciding that he should at least do something with his unexpected alone time, he rolled off of the bed, staggered to his feet, and began the hunt for a new - dry - pair of boxer shorts. His old pair *and* his pants were in a damp heap on the floor.
He vividly remembered how they'd ended up there.
Sigh.
Finding a new pair in his chest of drawers (the top of which had been taken over by a vast array of Sam paraphernalia) he slipped them on, and then found himself staring into the bathroom from the doorway.
Most of the towels were soaked right through, a wet, lumpy mess on the floor.
So much for the night after the proposal.
Yet as he started to clear up (risking his life every few minutes by slipping on the floor, then doing his bit for destroying the environment by bringing in the paper towels), he couldn't help but feel his mood improve. Though he may not have received the answer he wanted - though he may not have even asked the *question* he wanted answered - it'd been one hell of an evening.
And now he had some pretty damn good memories of his bathroom, too. How many people could say that?
Actually...he probably didn't want to know.
When he'd cleaned up as much as he could and hauled the unbelievably heavy pile of towels out of the bathroom in the washing basket (oh, laundry was gonna be *so* much fun), he dumped the basket next to the washing machine and signalled defeat - now he really *was* tired.
Padding his way back to the bedroom, he thumped down onto the bed, knowing he'd dream of Sam.
Even his subconscious was soppy.
*
By 1400 the next day, he still hadn't heard from her. It wasn't the first time she'd been called away by an emergency, not by a long shot. And it wasn't the first time she'd forgotten to call him, whether it was to let him know that whatever it was was going to drag on, or that she'd be home as usual that same evening.
None of it stopped him from worrying.
So he occupied himself with tasks that needed doing. Washing, drying, cleaning (the stove really hadn't been scrubbed for a while), watching the latest episode of The Simpsons again, trying not to pick up the phone at any given moment.
If something 'big' had happened to either her or the SGC, they'd let him know, security clearance or not. He was sure of it.
Yeah, so he really should have been going out at some point, but whenever she was urgently called away he liked being near all means of communication. Landline, cell phone; even e-mail. Partly because he was worried about her, and partly because he knew all too well just how big the stakes could be. And if it really was *that*...he wanted to know about it ASAP.
He should get a dog. He really, really, should get a dog.
Suddenly he understood how Sara must have felt sometimes. Just for the briefest of seconds he wondered how she'd put up with him...but in the very next briefest of seconds, he knew why *he* 'put up' with Sam.
There were other things he could be doing; things he tried not to think about. Things he hadn't done since...
His body moved, his hand picking up his cell phone where he'd left it on the coffee table. Logically, if the SGC were going to call him they'd phone the landline first. As long as he kept *that* free...
Jack didn't think. He just dialled.
Lifting the phone up to his ear he slid the patio doors open with his free hand, stepping out onto the porch.
Breathe, breathe.
He just had to breathe.
The phone clicked. "Hello?"
His first instinct was to hang up. And though he usually went with his instincts...he'd been avoiding this long enough. "Kate,"
The silence was almost tangible. "Jack?"
"How are you?" Hmm, what a polite conversation.
Her confusion was obvious. "I'm good. How are *you* doing?"
There it was. His hand gripped the phone tighter, as the other one held on to the railing on the porch. "Fine."
Now her voice became cautious. "And Sam?"
It suddenly occurred to him that she and Sam had never met. She only knew of Sam at all because he talked about her. As he thought over it, he realised he must have talked about her a lot.
Which was weird.
He'd never really done that.
Or maybe it was what he *hadn't* said that...uh, he was stopping *right* there. Too much thinking. This was about something else.
"She's fine too." He couldn't help but think of the previous night. "Really fine. I'm gonna ask her to marry me."
Wow. Why had that come out?
"Oh my God, that's great, Jack! Congratulations!"
Okay, it *might* have had something to do with the brief moment of joy her reaction gave him. Was he really that needy? "Well she hasn't said 'yes' yet..."
"I'm sure she will."
Apparently so. "Saw her dad yesterday - great guy. Did the old fashioned thing and asked his permission." And got teased relentless in the process, but he wasn't about to admit that.
"Guess you're just an old fashioned guy."
Huh. Tell him something he *didn't* know...and as much as he was enjoying this particular conversation, he was avoiding the subject again. "Anyway, I thought I'd just phone and see...you know..."
Kate sighed lightly. "Jack, if you're not ready you're not ready. You don't have to rush back into this."
That was the thing. He had a feeling that if he didn't at least try, he'd never be ready. "How are the kids doing?"
"Good. They're good. They miss you."
"And David?"
"He *really* misses you."
Guilt stamped its way through his stomach. "No, I don't mean that, I..." His hand tightened on the phone again. "How's he doing?"
"The same," She told him. "Good days and bad days. Today it's a good day."
He felt a brief smile curve onto his face. "Good. That's good. You think he...they know why I haven't been around lately?"
"Well..." She paused. "Nobody's said anything, but they all knew how happy you were when Sam..."
"Got pregnant," He finished for her. "It's okay. You can say it. And I guess I was pretty excited, huh?"
"Excited? Hell, it was all you would talk about! No matter what we were talking about - Teletubbies, hot dogs versus burgers - you'd inevitably find a way to work the pregnancy into the conversation."
Grinning broadly now, he lowered his gaze towards the floor of the deck. "What can I say? Guess I have a one track mind."
"It's a good track to be on, Jack."
Yeah, it was. It really was. He was glad he'd called; he was actually feeling a little...better. "Look, I can't today, but I'll come by and visit them when I get the chance. Maybe start getting involved again."
"Either one's great."
He nodded, mostly to himself. It wasn't as if she could see the movement anyway. "I'd better go. I've got washing coming out of my ears."
She chuckled. "Sure, Jack. It's good to hear from you."
He should have called earlier. He should have called much earlier. "Sorry for using you as a shrink. I didn't mean to."
Kate was definitely amused when she responded. "Yes you did."
And she promptly ended the call.
*
The phone rang, suddenly waking him up. His brain kick-started into action, analysing the information it could understand in that drowsy state: landline. He was in bed. He'd gone to bed hours ago and had - probably - only recently fallen asleep.
He wasn't used to sleeping without her.
While he'd been thinking all that his body had already been acting, his right arm stretching out to pick the phone up and answer the call. "O'Neill," Man, his voice was husky. He cleared his throat.
"Jack!"
Sam. It was Sam, and she had to be all right because she was well enough to use the phone. "Sam?" He sat further up in bed, reaching for the lamp.
"You have to leave the house, now."
His hand froze as he immediately began trying to explain her reasoning. Was he under surveillance? Was something about to explode? Was...?
Man, did he *actually* live in some cheesy TV movie? This was ridiculous.
He flicked on the lamp, wincing at the sudden influx of light. "What?"
"Grab anything you think is essential, but that's it. You won't need any money or your passport. Just get dressed, get in the truck, and get here."
Never mind ridiculous - as he threw aside the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, his mind was in danger of pounding out of his head. There was only one thing that would make her act this way... "Sam, what the hell is going on?"
And then it was true.
"It's Anubis," She told him, heavily. "He's here."
~FINIS