DISCLAIMER: The story, and characters and anything and everything
else concerning SG: SG1 belong to MGM, Gekko, Secret Productions
etc, they are so not mine and no money is being made from this and
no copyright infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: After I posted my last story "The Will Within" several people
on the CarterFraiser list expressed the desire for a 'Solitudes'
story. Glad to oblige...
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author
SPOILERS: Up to Solitudes.
Unexpectedly on the Market
By Celievamp
Cold. It was all she could think about. All her senses were focused on it. Cold. She tried to remember heat but she could not. It was difficult to believe that such a thing had ever existed. Her brain like her body was shutting down. She could not help herself. She could not help the Colonel. She had no idea why the Stargate would not dial. She had tried every thing she could think of, gone through every protocol step by step. But it would not dial home. She could not go home. She could not get the Colonel home.
He had slipped into a coma a few hours earlier, his internal injuries making him even more vulnerable to the sweet killing cold. Once you got past the sickening shudders hypothermia did not hurt anymore. All in all it wasn't too bad a way to go. There were worse ways to die.
He had called her Sara. His last words.
And she had responded in her name to comfort a dying man.
But who could she call on? Whose comfort could she seek in what could be her final hours?
Unexpectedly on the market: one human heart, rarely used.
The man beside her. Her Colonel. It would have been easy to love him. For the Samantha Carter that she was careful to project to the outside world he would have been the perfect choice if it were not for military regulations. Thank God for regulations. He was the type she had chosen in the past. Strong men. Dangerous men. Her wounded birds on the lunatic fringe. The one's she could care for without caring about because they did not want her love only her time, her attention. Her devotion.
But she had seen him with Sara, his ex-wife, seen the memento's of his son. He wasn't ready to enter into any kind of relationship yet no matter how many sidearm and cute little tank top jokes he made.
Teal'c. Still something of an unknown quantity. The discovery that he had a wife and a child secreted away had curiously made him seem more human. She had grown to trust him but he wasn't the one for her.
Daniel Jackson. Another wounded bird. And something of a kindred spirit. Too much of one for that kind of relationship. She loved him as a brother. Bad example. She hadn't spoken to her real brother for years. Daniel was the brother she wished she had had, the companion for a voyage of the mind. She cried for him when she thought he was lost, when Oannes had taken him and made them believe he was dead. She had not cried like that since her mother died.
He questioned her adherence to military regulations, to the detachment of her emotions. When she was ordered to abandon Cassie to her fate it was his example that made her think beyond the order to act on her feelings.
To act on her feelings.
She only hoped that the two of them were safe and sound – and warm – back at the SGC.
Oh God.
This must be the clarity that comes before death.
Unexpectedly on the market: one human heart, rarely used. Some damage carefully concealed. Seeks careful owner willing to forgive a lifetime of denial and nurture unreservedly. No timewasters. No broken birds. No lunatic fringe need apply.
She had saved the best `til last.
Janet Fraiser. How many times since she had first met the Chief Medical Officer had she found herself just gazing at her, that tiny trim figure with curves in all the right places. How many times had she wanted to see if that pale caramel skin was as soft as she thought it might be. How many times had she said or done things just to get her to smile that smile, to gaze into those deep brown eyes? How many times had she found those eyes gazing right back at her?
Janet Fraiser. The One. At least according to her primal mind when she was infected with the Broca virus. She remembered most of what had happened during that time. Unfortunately. She had tried to mate with the Colonel and then had forgotten he ever existed once she laid eyes on the Doctor.
But if she was honest with herself (now there was a concept) she had pretty much noticed the doctor from the first moment that they were introduced.
And she was pretty sure that the doctor had noticed her.
Nothing had been said. Nothing definite. But there had been little looks and touches. Nothing as definite as a kiss. But in this moment of clarity that she was having Sam realised that she would very much like there to be a kiss. More than one. More than a kiss.
Unexpectedly on the market: one human heart, rarely used. Some damage carefully concealed. Seeks careful owner willing to forgive a lifetime of denial and nurture unreservedly. No timewasters. No broken birds. No lunatic fringe need apply. Approaches from licensed medical practitioners with appropriate security clearances, chocolate brown eyes and curves in all the right places especially welcome.
If only she wasn't stuck on an ice planet a billion light years from anywhere she wanted to be.
If only. The moment of clarity was fading. All she wanted to do now was sleep, to go gentle into that good night.
It was over.
And then it wasn't. She felt herself being lifted, managed to open her eyes long enough to see General Hammond looking down at her. Had he come through the Stargate to find them?
The next time she opened her eyes it was to see doe shaped dark brown eyes looking down on her, to feel gentle fingers feathering through her matted, filthy hair, to bask in the smile that graced that beautiful face, to know that someone or something somewhere had given her a second chance.
"He-ey," Janet said. "Good to have you back, Captain Carter. You're going to be fine. So is the Colonel. You did a great job looking after him."
"Hey," she managed to whisper even though her throat felt as if it had been freeze dried. "Good to be back." She reached up, her hand shaking, to touch Janet's cheek. Soft. So soft. Her heart missed a beat as Janet turned into her touch, her lips whispering across her palm. A promise made. It was just a moment, yet they held it, stretched and suspended gossamer thin, hoping it would last forever.
Unexpectedly on the market: one human heart, rarely used. Some damage carefully concealed. Seeks careful owner willing to forgive a lifetime of denial and nurture unreservedly. No timewasters. No broken birds. No lunatic fringe need apply. Approaches from licensed medical practitioners with appropriate security clearances, chocolate brown eyes and curves in all the right places especially welcome.
Sale now completed.
The End