"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." - William Shakespeare
It was cold, and he didn't seem in a hurry to be leaving. She should have taken her own car.
Not that she'd had much choice at the time. Unconsciously she knew that this was some kind of team-building exercise - team building dinner - and that by default she was required to pile into the Colonel's truck along with Teal'c. She wound up in the back seat, which made for a rather cruel drive, because she was alone in the back seat, whereas a week ago she would had had company. O'Neill talked incessantly about nothing in particular; Teal'c fiddled with the radio and played it too loud. Way of the warrior, she'd thought wryly. Some warriors we are.
Right now, she didn't much care if she was a warrior or not. What she did know was that it was very cold, and getting late, and that the Colonel didn't seem to care about either. They'd just dropped Teal'c off at Daniel's old place for the night; eventually everything would need to be packed up and shipped out, but for now they were stalling by informing Hammond that Teal'c needed somewhere off base to stay. And as all Teal'c had were some candles, comics, tabloids, and various trinkets collected over the years, there was really no need to move Daniel's things out.
Sam had felt better when she'd found out this was the Colonel's idea. So, the man had some sentimentality after all. Or maybe he just didn't want the hassle of packing up the apartment. They'd already done that once.
O'Neill had pulled up to the curb, helped Teal'c carry his third suitcase of candles inside and into the elevator, and then he'd come back to the truck, where Sam was waiting. But he hadn't gotten inside. He'd just stood there, on the curb facing the building, leaning back on the driver's side door and staring upwards. Up at the apartments or up at the sky, Sam couldn't tell. But then again, she didn't particularly give a damn right now. Even inside the truck, it was cold, and getting colder. Late, and getting later.
She sighed explosively, the sound magnified in the quiet of the empty cab, and with much dissonant grumbling she got out of the truck. Circled the front. Stood up on the sidewalk next to her commanding officer, and waited for some acknowledgement.
It was a long time in coming, and when it came, she was unprepared.
"You know... you don't have to be angry."
"Huh?" Sam paused, dismayed by her own inarticulateness. "I mean... what do you mean? Angry at you?"
He finally looked down at her, crossing his arms against the cold. The tip of his nose and his cheeks were brushed pink, and his words came out in little puffs of vapor. He seemed unnaturally calm. Usually these little 'team' talks of theirs were accompanied with a great deal of flinching and rushed words on his part. Now it seemed like he had all the time in the world. "Whoever. Me... God... yourself."
Pursing her lips together, she rolled her eyes automatically and found herself looking skyward. There were no clouds, absolutely none; that was probably part of the reason it was so cold. The stars even looked cold, little pinpricks as hard and sharp and lifeless as diamonds. "I guess I'm mad," she said lamely. "Mad at us, mad at the scientists, at Jonas..." She shook her head. "And I KNOW being angry won't change anything..."
"Good. Because that was my next question." O'Neill shifted his weight, eyes on the concrete at his feet. "You also know that... ultimately it DID came down to being Daniel's decision. And I know if he were here, he'd be telling you that. That if you're gonna blame anybody, blame him." He looked back up, the essence of reason. It was almost creepy. "Can you be mad at Daniel?"
Sam laughed softly. "For what? BEING Daniel? Yeah... sure. I was... am." More unintelligibility. She hurried to explain. "He didn't have to do what he did. On the planet, I mean. And he didn't have to make the choice that he did, to go and become... enlightened. Sometimes I feel like it was almost... selfish for him to have done that, to just take off and leave us behind... but of course then I just feel like a... a..."
"Bitch?" suggested the Colonel, his eyebrows raising in protest when she glared at him. "What, it was just a suggestion. I don't think you're a bitch, Carter," he added, with just a hint of amusement in his voice. "If anything, you're starting to make ME feel like the soulless, heartless, brainless military asshole going around--"
"I didn't mean that--" she declared quickly, falling silent when she realized he'd been teasing.
"I know," he said, almost happily. "I know you know. Just wanted to hear you say it."
Sam sighed in resignation, and leaned up against the truck too, if only so that she wouldn't have to keep finding something to look at besides him. "I'm mad at myself too," she acknowledged. "I tried to help and I only made it worse. It was like Orlin again. You have good intentions, and they blow up in your face." She forced a laugh. "It was almost exactly like Orlin, wasn't it?"
O'Neill shrugged. He hadn't been there. And Orlin wasn't his favorite topic of conversation anyway.
"I swear," Sam continued, more solemnly, fighting back the perverse desire to giggle, "If you or Teal'c ever do that to me... if you ever decide to get all white and... glowy..." a strangled chuckle burst through "... I'll... grab your white, glowy ass and stick it in the nearest electrical outlet. The SGC will have free lighting for a month."
He laughed too, a harsh, grating sound that mimicked hers. "Well, I can't speak for Teal'c, but I don't think I exactly qualify for sainthood. Or... white... glowhood for that matter." He shrugged, and Sam smiled, glad at least that she was more articulate than he was. "Besides, I don't plan on going anywhere for the time being. Got too much left to do... loose ends to tie up, you know?"
She glanced sideways at him. "Anubis?"
O'Neill looked at her, a peculiar quirk to his lips. "Yeah... Anubis," he said lightly. "Sure. Why not." He moved his hands into his pockets, stuffing them deep, and faced forward again. "You sure you're not mad at me?" She didn't answer, couldn't answer, and he added, more awkwardly but with a mouthful of masculine bravado, "You know, just in the interests of the team... team dynamic and all... I thought I'd..."
"Mad," echoed Sam, considering it. "No. If anything, I'm envious. You got a chance to say goodbye. You got closure. All the rest of us got was a light show. And I was the only one... I mean, Janet's gotta be used to this to some degree... Hammond can 'learn to live with it'. Teal'c thinks it's some great honor. Where does that leave me?" She answered her own question. "Playing the 'girl', that's where. The only one who seems unable to... 'move on', accept that he's gone. The 'emotional' one. The 'defective' part."
"You're not defective," said O'Neill sternly. "And for that matter... he's not really gone. You remember the whole thing with Nick... the skull... phaser-shifted Daniel... whatever? Remember how we still knew he was there... sorta... even though he obviously wasn't?" Sam nodded slowly. "Well... that's how this is. Not as much... not as often... but..." He frowned in concentration. "But that's how it is. He didn't just take off and leave us behind, not really." He scrunched up his face in thought, in hesitation. "I gotta wonder... this great progress the Asgard have made with the bugs all of a sudden, the whole reason Freyr was able to come and save our sorry asses..."
She looked at him with interest. "You think Daniel... helped them help us?"
He shrugged, but he also smiled. "Just Daniel being Daniel. And," he added, straightening up, "if Daniel was here right now, he'd probably be telling me to get you home and out of the cold."
Strange, but she hardly felt cold anymore, and she was able to smile back. "No, if Daniel was here, he'd be questioning your sanity for allowing Teal'c and those candles in his apartment."
"T-man knows where the fire extinguisher is."
They got back in the truck, Sam up front this time, and O'Neill started the engine. A blast of cold air shot out of the air vents, quickly warming.
"You know," said the Colonel slowly, as he pulled out onto the street, "the same goes for you too." She shook her head minutely to show she didn't follow. "No... glowhood," he explained, very matter-of-factly.
She turned her head quickly towards the window so he wouldn't see her brief grin. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, sir, but--"
"Not kidding. I don't even want to see a sparkle. A glimmer. A..."
"Twinkle," supplied Sam.
"A gleam."
"A... beam."
"Anything slightly illuminating. Flashlights are out."
"And candles. And anything glow-in-the-dark." She was almost laughing now. "That's it. I think I just disqualified myself for glowhood. There's no way they'd take me and not you."
"Oh, so now we're a package deal?"
"I guess so," Sam said, feigning consternation. "Can Teal'c come?"
O'Neill looked less then enthusiastic. "Well yeah, as long as he promises to give enlightenment more a shot then he gave fishing. Not that there's much of a difference, mind you."
By the time they reached her house, the cab was decidedly warm and while their banter had ceased, there was still a ghost of a smile on Sam's lips. Maybe later, when she was alone, she would begin to grieve again. She had lost too many people through her life not to be honest with herself: this wasn't a start and stop process, and if she never saw Daniel again, she would probably miss him every day of her life.
But just because she couldn't see him didn't mean he wasn't really there, right?
The Colonel pulled up to the curb. "See you in the morning then? Around seven-thirty."
In O'Neill-speak, that was decidedly closer to eight, so she nodded and smiled. "Sounds good, sir. And..." she had to say it. "Thank you. For talking."
He immediately started fiddling with his high-beams, giving a grunted acknowledgement.
Sam opened the door, stepped out onto the curb, and looked back in at him. "It's just... I know you didn't really want to."
He met her eyes through the open door and gave a self-deprecating shrug. "We're a team, right? No one else understands what we've been through... what we mean to each other." She smiled mildly as she recognized her own words, and the sentiment was mirrored in his eyes. "Night, Carter."
"Goodnight, sir." She closed the door and he pulled away, leaving her to the silence and stillness and blackness and coldness of the night. She walked slowly up the front lawn, turned around and took a few steps backwards; better to see the stars. There were clouds approaching from the west, soft and bright against the black sky.
"Goodnight," she said again, to no one in particular.
The End