"So this is Christmas
And what have you done"
Saved the world a few times, made some new friends, taught Teal'c about *real* jokes... hm.... learnt that his second's mouth was good at things other than just spouting out large words. Mind you, technically it hadn't been his second...
Jack blinked. Now he was just confusing himself.
"Another year over
And a new one just begun"
Jack sighed, flicking the can from his beerbottle across the room before raising the cold glass up to his lips and taking a swig. Why did Christmas songs always have to be so damn sad?
Why was Christmas so damn sad?
"And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun"
He snorted into his beer. Fun? Christmas? Nup, Christmas stopped being fun when he turned five and caught his mother on the floor in the loungeroom with Santa Claus. It gave the words `I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus' a whole new meaning. It also affected him for life.
""The near and the dear one
The old and the young"
Well, there was no one dear near, and he was the only young one present.
"A very Merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear"
This time Jack did laugh. No fear? Yeah, right. Fear was a daily constant in his life. More constant than watching the sun rise in the East, considering that on some planets the sun rose from the west, or the north... Nope, his existence was fear. Fear of dying, fear of losing, fear of failing. Fear of losing Carter. And he was going to stop that train of thought *right* there... With a lazy flick of his wrist and a leisurely press of a button, the sounds died away leaving his room dark and silent. Through the window he could see the bright, colourful glow of his neighbour's Christmas cheer. It was probably sad, he thought reflectively, that his house was on the only one on the street that wasn't decorated with the same spirit of joy and love. It was probably extraordinarily sad that he didn't have a Christmas tree with any presents under it. And he should be drinking eggnog, not beer. Shrugging, he took another swallow. He *liked* beer. Screw tradition. He'd get a damn hat stand, hang some tinsel on that, put his few presents underneath it and pretend he was having fun. Pretending sure beat reality.
~o0o~
"So many 25th's of December
Just as many 4th of July's"
So this was it. Her first Christmas alone. Really alone. Not just alone because her family was on the other side of the country or planet, but completely alone. Her Dad was dead, her brother had disowned her. Even her cat was gone.
"And we're still holding it together
It only comes down to you and I"
Glaring at her stereo, Sam dug around on her couch. You and I indeed. You and I usually meant there was a `we' involved, and as far as Sam knew, there was only an `I' in her scenario.
"I know you can still remember
Things we said right from the start
When we said that this could be special
I'm keeping those words deep down in my heart"
She found the remote and aimed it gleefully at the stereo.
"Another year has gone by
And I'm still-"
It was sad, she thought idly, that she was getting a perverse sort of pleasure from hitting the button and cutting the song of mid-phrase.
Christmas songs were just so darn happy and lovey-dovey.
She really didn't feel like lovey- dovey. Definitely not.
She hated Christmas. She remember as a kid it was her favourite time of year. Her mother would go beserk, baking biscuits and icing cakes, decorating the whole house and making eggnog.
Sam hated eggnog. Raw egg... it didn't even bear thinking about.
Maybe she'd just have a glass of red wine, she mused idly as she studied her Christmas tree. She'd done a great job this year, she had to admit. The bows were all perfect, the tree almost symmetrical in appearance. The neatness of a chronic perfectionist.
She sighed again, resting her feet on the coffee table. Maybe she should invite Janet and Cassie over and get them to admire her tree. Break the loneliness in her house.
Outside she could hear the carollers and see the glow of Christmas lights. Marie's house even had three snowmen complete with glow-in-the-dark eyeballs and outdoor Christmas-light scarves.
Letting her eyes rest on the snowmen in question, Sam sighed. Again.
Maybe if she had kids she'd enjoy Christmas. She'd enjoy the silliness, the excitement and the general atmosphere of peace and goodwill towards men.
What about aliens? Had the Goa'uld heard of the peace and goodwill towards men? She doubted it. She definitely wasn't getting a Christmas card from Heru'ur anytime soon. Mind you, he wasn't on her mailing list either.
Stifling a yawn, Sam rose to her feet and stretched before glancing at the clock. 7:02pm. Was that all?
It seemed the only similarity between Christmas as a kid and Christmas as an adult was the way Christmas Even seemed to stretch and stretch and stretch.
Maybe if she had some kids the evening would pass quicker.
Sam frowned. Kids. Maybe if she had kids? What the hell was wrong with her?
She knew. She knew what was wrong. Generally with the production of kids there was another adult involved in the process. And that meant being loved. When was the last time she'd felt loved?
Sam frowned. Jonas? No...
The Colonel.
Her eyes widened and she gazed critically at his present lying nestled under her tree. It made sense, she realised suddenly, that she'd have a crush on him. She didn't see anyone else outside of the SGC, and he made her feel safe. A lethal combination that could quite easily result in a crush.
Shrugging, she turned to leave the room. But she didn't move.
She wanted to see him. She wanted to give him his present, not. Besides, that meant she could come home tonight and drink a bottle of red by herself and not have to be disturbed tomorrow morning by early Christmas wishes.
Her mind made up, Sam headed to her tree and gathered up all the presents lying comfortably beneath it. The room looked strangely bear, and a sentimental tug at her heart reminded her how strange it would be to wake up on Christmas morning and have no presents left beneath her tree. Have no one coming over for roast dinner. Have no one drinking eggnog with her and eating Christmas food. She'd probably eat ice cream and drink hot chocolate all day long.
Throwing on her coat, Sam marched outside still carrying her load of presents and got into the car. Thank goodness there was no snow falling and the roads had been cleared that morning.
~o0o~
He felt stupid. Stupid didn't even begin to cover it.
"Jack, what can I do for you?"
"Have you got a hat stand?" Jack asked politely, stamping his feet on the doorstep to keep the circulation flowing.
"A hat stand?" Martin asked slowly.
"Yeah, and some tinsel."
Still gazing at him oddly, Martin shrugged and motioned Jack inside.
Martin's house was warm and cosy, the heat from the fire burning in the heart in the room opposite eating through the chill in Jack's bones. Toys and sprinklings of tinsel littered the hallway, clumsily stacked papers and hurriedly arranged photo's on the hall table speaking of the family inside. From another room, Jack could hear one of the kids giggling.
He missed that, listening to a child giggling on Christmas Eve.
"This do?" Martin appeared again, the sound of laughter following him out from the family room.
"Great, thanks!" Jack beamed at him. "I'll drop it off day after Christmas?" he checked.
"Sure."
"Jack?"
"Martin?"
"Why do you want a hat stand?"
Jack hesitated. "I need a tree," he admitted reluctantly.
Martin smiled at him. "If you wait a few minutes I can get you some decorations too."
Jack waited silently, the smell of popcorn creeping into the hallway. Popcorn. That's what he needed...
"Here ya go," Martin arrived. "And Nina sent this along as well."
Jack looked at the bowl. Popcorn! He grinned at Martin. "Thanks, Martin. Are you guys busy tonight?"
Martin shook his head slowly.
"Good, cos if you and the boys want, I need help building my snowmen and decorating them."
Martin grinned. "We'll be there in about half an hour."
"Great!"
Christmas wasn't so bad after all.
"Jack?"
"Martin?"
"*No* snowball fights this year."
Jack smiled innocently. "Of course not."
~o0o~
One present left.
Deliberately left to last, she admitted to herself reluctantly.
Still, too late to back out now.
Gritting her teeth, Sam carefully turned her car onto his street...
... and frowned with confusion.
This was his street, right? And his house was the one on the left, right? Then what were all those people...
Her eyes widened as she heard a familiar voice yell, and seconds later her headlights were reflecting off a dizzying spectacle of feathery snowballs flying through the air, the sound of screams and laughter penetrating through the comfort of her car.
A snowball fight. One, huge, snowball fight. It looked like his whole street was involved. And it was on his lawn...
She stopped the car and watched suspiciously.
Yes, that was his form ducking behind a haphazard snowman with two uneven, crooked stick arms and... and a stainless steel bowl for a hat.
She grinned and got out of the car, watching as he threw a snowball and laughed in triumph. Some people never grew up. Some people were never too old for Christmas.
"Colonel!" she yelled, and he turned abruptly, the surprise on his face clearly visible in the light reflecting off the snow.
"Carter?"
He grunted suddenly as a snowball struck his head and he staggered forwards.
"RIGHT!" he ignored her, turning back to face the mayhem. "Who threw that?"
A suspicious giggle sounded through the air. A tiny voice piped up excitedly, "I got him! I got Colonel Jack!"
Without warning, he grabbed her hand and dragged her along, charging at the small boy jumping up and down excitedly. He must have realised the Colonel was after him because he let out a high pitched squeal and tore off, ducking behind another snowman who had lost his head.
Her last thought as she was thrown into the furious snowball fire, was that she was wearing a new shirt and it was about to get ruined.
~o0o~
Standing on his driveway, and surveying his `lawn', Jack couldn't help chuckling. So much for building snowmen. All that remained off the four beautiful creations were several oddly shaped snowdrifts and a few sticks poking out here and there.
Spotting something glinting in the streetlight, Jack waded through his lawn and retrieved Nina's bowl that had been given to him full of popcorn.
"Colonel?"
He turned, surprised to see Carter still around.
"Carter. Have fun?" he asked innocently. Her hair was wet, curling cheekily around her ears, and her cheeks were glowing red.
But her lips were blue, he realised suddenly.
And so was the snow around her.
Blue snow?
"Ya know, I've heard of a blue Christmas Carter, but this is... well..."
"Colonel?" she stared at him, completely confused.
He motioned at the snow around her, and her eyes widened. "What...?" And then a look of horror crossed her face. "My shirt!" she realised, shrugging off her coat. Sure enough, what had once been a blue shirt was now a soggy, swirling mass with blue dye dripping down her legs and arms.
He grinned at her. "Come on, you can clean up inside."
Nodding miserably, she followed him inside. He glanced at her then, studying her properly for the first time.
She was upset, and it wasn't about the shirt.
Christmas blues.
He almost chuckled again.
"You okay, Carter?"
"Sir?"
He shrugged. Obviously she didn't want to talk about it. Again.
"There's a bathroom through there, I'll go get you some sweats or something."
She was staring at his hatstand.
"So. *This* is Christmas?" she asked almost bitterly.
"What?" he demanded, defensively. Actually, he thought the hatstand looked pretty darn good. Different, but good.
She turned to him, and he was shocked to see tears glistening in her eyes.
"You don't have a Christmas tree."
"No," he agreed hesitantly. "I have a hatstand."
She snorted through her tears, rubbing furiously at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"What's wrong, Sam?"
And then she was in his arms again, crying.
So he stood there, holding her, letting the blue dye from her shirt drip onto his hallway floor and only his cream jumper. Hell, it wasn't everyday he got to hold Carter in his arms.
She was shivering against him, the sobs mingling with shudders of cold. Gently he pried himself away and led her to the bathroom.
"Go. Have a hot shower. I'll bring you something warm."
She entered the room mutely and shut the door.
He hesitated for a minute, his eyes resting on the smooth, painted surface of the bathroom door, before he sighed and turned to go get her some warm clothes.
~o0o~
That was stupid.
Man that was stupid. What would he think? This was the third time now she'd come to him crying because she was upset.
She couldn't come running to him every time something was wrong. It wasn't his responsibility to pick up the pieces of her pathetic life and help her glue them back together each time.
Still, he made her feel safe. And warm.
He was as comfortable as her cough and afghan back home; the kind of person who could make everything better with a simple hug and a caring look in his eye.
And she loved him for it.
Loved him.
She gazed at the mirror in shock. Her reflection stared back at her: large, red eyes; damp, tousled hair and lips tight with worry.
Swallowing, she rinsed her face with cold water and turned the taps off firmly.
She could do this. She could go up to him, thank him for the use of his shower and the lend of clothes, give him the damn present still sitting on the seat of her car and leave.
Easy.
"Carter, you done yet?"
"Almost," she yelled back. Well, at least her voice was sounding vaguely normal again.
Taking another deep breath, she gazed at herself firmly in the mirror. "You can do this, Carter."
He was leaning against the wall, holding two steaming mugs of...
He thrust one into her hands.
...Eggnog. Yay.
"Come on, I've got a fire going," he invited, and then led the way to the loungeroom without looking to see if she was following.
So much for her plan of `thank you Colonel, I've got to go now, Colonel, here's your present Colonel, merry Christmas and goodnight, Colonel.'
She sat down silently on the couch and pretended to sip her eggnog. Mmmm, yummy.
"So. You ready for Christmas?" he asked eventually, licking at his eggnog moustache.
"Been dropping off Christmas presents," she shrugged. "That's actually why I stopped by. Yours is still sitting in my car."
"Really?" he grinned at her. "Can I go get it?"
She rolled her eyes. A big kid with grey hair.
"What was that?"
She gazed at him. "What?"
"You just called me a big kid with grey hair," he said, shocked.
She did? Oh, damn. Awkwardly she shifted on her seat. Still looking mildly surprised, he held out his hand.
"What, Sir?"
"Car keys."
Oh. Silently she fished them out of the pocket she'd slipped them into, and watched as he left the room excitedly.
Maybe she could tip her drink out into his potplants while he wasn't looking...
She gazed undecidedly at the plants. No, the poor dears might not be too happy being bombarded with raw egg and rum. Her stomach roiled; it certainly didn't like that combination.
Maybe if she snuck into the kitchen and tipped it down the sink...
The front door slammed and he tramped back into the house. "It's snowing outside," he stated as he shook the feathery flakes from his jacket.
"I should get going then," she said reluctantly, rising to her feet.
"But I haven't opened my present yet!" he frowned, gazing hopefully at her.
Sighing, she dropped back onto the couch with a great display of reluctance. Display. If only she felt half the reluctance she was showing...
"Yours is under there somewhere," he muttered, carefully shaking the gift close to his ear. "It's wrapped in silver stuff."
Silver stuff. That must be it... ah ha!
Snatching up the small parcel, she retreated back onto the couch and curled her feet up beneath her, watching him carefully peel back the tape to undo the wrapping.
He gazed at the object curiously, studying it intently. She watched his face eagerly, looking for any reaction to her gift.
"Carter," he started out hesitantly. "I really, like... this... but... what is it?"
What was it? She gazed at him, stunned.
"I'm joking!" he grinned at her, carefully fingering the lens. "It's perfect, thank you."
"It's a pleasure," she smiled shyly.
"How did you know?" he asked curiously.
"I heard you complaining about your last one to Daniel, about how you scratched it."
He grinned again before carefully placing it on the small table between them.
"Now you open yours," he ordered.
Silently she did as he ordered, her fingers moving nimbly and undoing the wrapping paper.
She gazed down, bemused by the small plastic mold she was clutching.
"It's a jello mold," he explained excitedly.
"I can see that, Colonel," she smiled.
"You like jello, so I got you some."
She raised her eyebrows, studying the packet of blue crystals. "Blue Jello?"
"Blue." He nodded in satisfaction. "It makes your tongue go blue too," he added mischievously.
She laughed then, throwing the small mold at him and standing up.
"Are you going now?" he asked hesitantly.
"I have to, Sir."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"It's not like you have anyone at home waiting for you," he pointed out.
She cringed.
No, she didn't have anyone at home. That's what was the problem. She was lonely. Despite all her friends and acquaintances, colleagues and relatives, she was lonely.
To her embarrassment, another tear trickled down her cheek.
"Carter, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," he apologised, suddenly awkward and stiff around her again.
She hated crying around it. It made him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to her crying, he was used to Carter. Carter the soldier and Sam the scientist. Not Samantha the woman.
"It's okay, Sir. I'm just... it's stupid."
"No, it's not stupid," he said softly, and she suddenly realised why she'd come to him.
He had no one either. He was just as alone as Sam was.
And that thought brought her a strange sense of comfort.
"Would you like some Jello, Colonel?" she asked hesitantly, forcing a small smile onto her face.
"Pardon?"
"Jello. Would you like some?"
"Sure," he nodded, still eying her warily.
They boiled the water and dissolved the crystals silently, and placed the stainless steel bowl ceremoniously into the freezer.
Then they both went and sat on his rug in front of the fire, watching the tinsel on his hatstand glisten in the firelight while they waited for the Jello to set.
Silently he put and arm around her shoulders and passed her her long abandoned eggnog.
"Sir," she said hesitantly, watching as he took another swallow of his own eggnog.
"Carter?" Again, he licked the moustache away.
"I *really* don't like eggnog."
He looked at her for a minute, and then grinned. "Neither do I."
Silently they raised their mugs and took another swallow.
~o0o~
Another year has gone by
And I'm still the one by your side
After everything that's gone by
There's still no one saying goodbye
Though another year has gone by
~o0o~
Lyrics to So this is Christmas and Another Year has gone by used shamelessly without permission, and also in direct violation of Suz's fanfiction law of
aw of not using songs by Celine Dion. *Pokes tongue out at Suz*
Story Notes: SEASON/SEQUEL: Sequel to "Buried Truths" but it's not a prerequisite read. Post POV.
A/N: Having absolutely no idea about when PoV was actually situated in the year, I've decided that it took place not long before Christmas. So if I'm wrong, tough. I'm claiming creative license. Inspired by something Sel said, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it was she said. *shrugs*
Not beta'd and written ten minutes ago. Sorry for mistakes. Merry Christmas.
A/N: Having absolutely no idea about when PoV was actually situated in the year, I've decided that it took place not long before Christmas. So if I'm wrong, tough. I'm claiming creative license. Inspired by something Sel said, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it was she said. *shrugs*
Not beta'd and written ten minutes ago. Sorry for mistakes. Merry Christmas.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]