Rain by Michelle Birkby

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Story Notes: Email; saraandsamrule@hotmail.com

Rating; G

Category; Romance, fluff

Archive; Sam and jack, heliopolis, fanfiction.net, Jack and Sam's pad anyone else, ask first.

Spoilers; Affinity

Feedback;. what keeps me writing.

I've always loved the rain. At home that is, when I can hear it pattering on the roof. Out in the field, it's annoying. But here, at home, it's soothing. I love the way it will wash everything, and leave it all clean and new tomorrow. It'll make Pete's garden - my garden - smell of fresh grass, and meadows, and the hint of the sea will be still be in the traces of rain. And tonight...tonight the steady rhythm of it on the path outside is relaxing. Which is good. I need to be relaxed.

I can plan complex military operations. I can move ten teams in under cover of darkness and take over a Gou'ald stronghold before he has time to blink. I can plan and build some of the most powerful weapons in the world. So why can't I plan something as simple as a damn wedding!

The flowers are all wrong. My dress still doesn't fit. The bridesmaid's dress is the wrong colour. The band for the reception has cancelled at the last minute. And worst of all, I still haven't sorted out the seating chart.

That's the most difficult bit. All the relatives want to be near the front, where they can see. I'd rather they were all near the back, where I can't hear them speculating on whether I'm pregnant yet, and when I'm going to give up my job. I want Daniel and Teal'c at my table, but no way can I sit Teal'c near any of Pete's relatives. There's a complex round of feuds and loyalties amongst Pete's family, and I have to make sure no-one is seated near anyone they've threatened to kill in the past ten years. If they just don't talk to each other, it'll be ok.

And then there's the General. Where am I going to put him?

I want him beside me. I'm used to him being close when I'm nervous or stressed, and despite having faced some of the most evil beings in the universe, I think this wedding may be the scariest moment of my life.

But there's a past there. A little secret we just failed to keep. I'm sure that's all behind us. I know we've fallen into our respective roles, and we'll never get past them. I know where we belong. And our little secret was a long time ago.

But there are times, when I close my eyes, and I feel his arms around me. When my lips feel the gentle heat of his. When I feel his voice murmur 'Sam' into my ear. When I know, for an absolute certainty, that he loves me.

Then I wake up, and Pete's beside me, and I feel a sudden flush of guilt, and a forbidden pleasure at the thought of Jack in my dreams.

But when I showed him the ring, he didn't stop me. He didn't tell me that he cared, or that he loved me. I thought I saw it in his eyes, but I could have been wrong. He snapped the box shut, and gave it back to me, and I was too afraid to ask him to tell me everything, just this once, in case everything turned out to be nothing.

But back to the wedding, to a nice man who doesn't confuse me, or stir me too much, or challenge me, nor make me constantly guess what he's thinking. And right now, the only thought in my head is the seating plan. So, I sat on the floor, a huge chart in front of me, notes and Post-it's scattered all over the floor. I can build a naquadah generator. I can damn well sort out a seating plan.

And of course, just then, the phone rang. I contemplated getting up, and messing up my neat piles of papers and trying to sort it all out again afterwards, then decided to let the machine get it.

It was Pete.

"Honey, I got a little drunk on my stag night. Sorry, but hey, this is why we had it the week before, isn't it? I don't think I can make it home. I'm gonna stay with Mark in his hotel room, ok? Love you."

He rang off, and before I knew it, I was sighing. Not with impatience, or anger, but relief. At last, I'd have the bed to myself, the entire house to myself! I'd gotten used to it, all those years, stretching out in the bed, not having to worry about another person, constantly check if he was happy or sad, or take his feelings into consideration every time I decided something. I loved Pete but sometimes he was there just a bit too much. Always checking I was ok, never leaving me alone to get on with things. It was kind of sweet, but also - and I kept this very quiet - annoying. Sometimes.

I decided to leave the seating plan, and get Daniel to look at it. He was better at diplomacy, anyway. I was going to get a cup of hot chocolate, and go to bed with a good book. I stood up, and stretched, kneading the small of my back where I ached. Looking at the clock, I saw it was almost midnight. Where had the time gone?

I could still hear the rain, and I smiled, softly to myself. It was coming down heavily, and I was glad I wasn't out in it. It was the kind of rain that soaks through everything, and is best appreciated indoors.

I thought I was imagining things when I heard a knock on the door. Surely no-one would be out in this weather, at this time? But then the knock came again. I wasn't sure whether to answer it or not. It's not safe, answering a strange knock on the door at midnight.

But then I remembered I was a Colonel who had kicked more than her share of ass in her time, and I went to the door.

He was turning to leave. He must have thought I wasn't coming. The back of his black leather jacket was shiny with the rain, and his silver hair was slicked down, and spiked at the front where he must have run his fingers through it. He turned back to me as I opened the door.

"Sir?" I asked, surprised. He was the last person I'd been expecting to see on my doorstep at midnight in a torrential downpour.

"Carter." He said, but that was all. He stood there, slightly below me, on the step, dripping. I looked up. His truck was no-where to be seen.

"Did you walk here?" I asked, incredulous. It was miles from anywhere he could have been, and it had been raining all night.

"I had a couple of beers. With Daniel." He explained, adding the bit about Daniel quickly, as if anxious I shouldn't think he'd been drinking alone. His eyes were so dark, shadowed by something more than night, and there was a half-familiar expression in them, one I remembered, from a very long time ago.

"You're soaked through, you'd better come in." I said, but he reached out to my hand to stop me opening the door wider.

"No." he said. He still held my hand, and his thumb started to stroke the back of my hand, sending little shocks through me. He didn't look at me, just at my hand, enclosed in his.

"I love you. I just thought you ought to know that." He said, quietly, with no drama. He let go of my hand then, and looked up at me, and smiled. One real, warm, wistful smile. Then he put his hands back into his pockets, and walked away, into the night.

I stood there in the doorway for a very long time. I didn't move, I barely breathed. I wasn't sure I hadn't dreamt the whole thing. Everything had changed. I had changed. What do I do now?

Then suddenly I knew. I reached back into Pete's house and took my coat. Then I followed the man I love into the rain.

TE

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