Chapter Text
Samantha Carter pulled her car onto the gravel drive of the cabin. It was small, but very well maintained, with bright flowers poking out from beds lining the porch. It actually looked a little like a storybook cottage. There were a pair of rocking chairs on the porch too.
She stepped out of her car and took a deep breath. The air was cool, moist and smelled so clean. She let out a long sigh. This was what She needed; General Hammond had been right. It had been a rough few weeks. After it was all over he had suggested that she take some time off. And when she protested, saying that if she was at home she would just probably work, he insisted that she email a friend of his and rent a cabin for a few days. He almost ordered her to.
All he had said was that the cabin belonged to an old friend and that he may seem gruff, but was a standup guy, encouraging her to get to know him. That last part she took as odd, but whatever. She knew she had been working too hard. Of course she was assured, via email, that the place had wifi, so she brought a computer and a big bag of books.
If she decided to work, at least she would do it in a calm environment.
The last thing Hammond told her before she left was that she had to at least try fishing. Like he was insisting on her relaxing. She had been fishing before as a kid, so it wasn’t a totally new thing, but again whatever.
She looked around a little. The last email from the guy renting to her said that she was to arrive and find him at an adjacent cabin and that he would be home all day. He was then to hand over the keys and give her a little tour.
The problem was that she didn’t know which direction to go. The cabins were spread out enough that she could see one on either side of her through the trees, but not close enough to have an unobstructed view. The owner was named Jack O’Neill. For some reason that name rang a bell, but she couldn’t place it.
So she chose to go to her left and see what happened. As it turned out, no one was home. It looked like that one was closed up. With a sigh she turned and walked the other direction.
On this next lot, she saw another well maintained cabin, it was a brown log cabin, but with no flowers like the ones she had had. It was tidy though, and she could see a path leading down to the lake from the side of the house, plus a building that looked like a shop and another building by the lake that looked like a boat house.
In front of the shop was a truck with its hood up. Leaning over the engine was a man. All Sam could see was his butt, as he was elbow deep in the engine.
She walked up, trying to make noise so as not to startle him and could hear him muttering to himself.
“Excuse me? Are you Jack O’Neill?” she asked.
Her approach must not have been loud enough because he startled and she could hear the clang of a wrench drop into the engine compartment.
“Shit!” he cursed, still looking down.
Slowly he slid his arms out, standing to his full height as Sam watched. He was tall, a little taller than her, with salt and pepper hair that was sticking out all over. His hair was longer, but like he normally may have kept it short but hadn’t had a haircut in a few months. He had a few days of beard growth too. He wore a stained navy blue shirt and dirty jeans. He basically looked like he was wearing work clothes though, all the way down to his scuffed black boots. He looked vaguely familiar.
He reached over and grabbed a shop rag and started to wipe off his hands. “I’m Jack O’Neill, who are you?”
She tried to give him a nice smile, but wondered if maybe it was more of a strained one. “I’m Samantha Carter, Sam... you can call me Sam. I rented the place next door. You uh, told me in the email to come over and find you when I got here. “
Sam knew the anxiety was rolling off of her. Now, in the face of the enemy, she was never even close to being scared. She could take on any Jaffa or Goa'uld without blinking, but somehow the steely stare of this man unnerved her. She swallowed and stood a little taller as he looked her over.
“OK,” he said simply, sliding on sunglasses that had been previously around his neck, reaching behind him and picking up a brown cap and putting it on. “Come with me.” He started for her place.
OoOoO
Jack heard but did not pay attention to the crunching of gravel as she approached. When she spoke out he genuinely flinched, dropping his wrench. He shouldn't have been as startled as he was, but maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken to another human in a week.
Untangling himself from the engine, he turned to the voice.
Standing there was a woman, tall and blonde, wearing a smile that looked uncomfortable. By all standards, she was good looking, with short hair and gentle curves. She also looked like she was very confident normally. Over the years of reading people, he could tell merely by posture how someone was. She knew exactly what she was doing most of the time.
When Hammond had called and said he wanted to send someone up for a few days of R+R and he was not to scare her away, he knew. She must work for the Stargate program. He also knew that she must be an officer of some kind and well liked by Hammond. She must have a tough job, maybe even one directly involving the gate. He also wondered if they had finally gotten the proper funding and authorization to use the gate. Then he wondered what they found on the other side or if they were able to go to different places.
After his mission he had properly retired. He had not gone on the suicide mission like he had planned, but the outcome was still good, well, and bad. Ra was gone but so was Sara. She left him shortly thereafter and he permanently moved into his cabin in Minnesota. After a few years of renovating it, building a shop and boat house, etc, he bought the cabin next to him when it was vacated and began fixing it up too.
Before he had left though, Hammond had been assigned to the Stargate program and asked Jack to stay for a bit. He had known of George Hammond for years through the Air Force but when they officially met at the SGC they became friends. Hammond was a good man and Jack had no problem filling him in on a few of the things he picked up along the way about the Stargate. But there had been issues with funding and getting things moving. Which, clearly, had changed.
Over the years they had kept in touch. After some particularly grueling meetings and issues with senate committees, Jack had had Hammond out to the cabin for a weekend of fishing. That solidified the friendship. Jack called about once a year to check in and Hammond did the same. When Jack was in town. Which was very rare, he stopped by and had lunch with Hammond. They didn’t talk about the gate anymore, but about life, cabins, George’s grandkids and just life in general.
But recently Jack mentioned to Hammond that he was renting out the cabin adjacent to his but wasn’t sure how he wanted to do it, and Hammond suggested that he would maybe have some recommendations for folks to send up there at first before Jack rented it out through a service. Thinking that it may ease him into the situation better, Jack agreed.
OoOoO
Jack led Sam off his main property up to the other cabin. He fished in his pocket for a second and pulled out a key, going up to the door and unlocking it, then turning and handing the key to her. “Here,” he said, handing it over, “we don’t usually lock doors at night around here, but some do.”
“OK,” she said, taking the key and pocketing it.
Jack gave her a quick tour, showing how to work the wood stove and appliances. He told her about the wifi and gave the password too. “I started a fire earlier today to warm it up,” he said. “There are fresh sheets on the bed and towels in the bathroom. Use anything you find, like paper towels. It’s all part of the price.”
Sam nodded.
“Hammond said you may want to fish, there’s some fishing stuff in the shed outside, but you’ll need to get bait at the shop down the road. Any questions?”
The tour had been fast, with little detail, but Sam figured she could make it all work. She was curious though. “Do you rent this out to others, I mean not General Hammond’s recommendations?”
“No, not yet. I’m still trying to figure it out. I’m not sure if I Iike having people around,” he answered gruffly.
“Well if you do you may want to raise the price, not that I’m complaining.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why? What’s the going rate for something like this?”
“Not $150 per night for sure.”
“Huh,” he said, turning for the door. “Well anyway, if you need something… just .. come over I guess. I’m usually home.”
“Do you have a phone to call?”
“Somewhere, but just come over. I probably won’t check my email either. I hate doing that.”
Sam knew that last statement was true. It was taking him about a week to return the emails she had sent.
Jack walked out without anymore fanfare.
“Thank you, “ Sam called after him.
He waved a hand in the air in response and Sam wondered if it was an actual wave or a dismissive gesture.
Whatever, he was weird. She did wonder how he and Hammond were friends. Jack seemed to be most comfortable by himself tinkering on something or fishing or doing whatever guys did. She shrugged and looked around. It was a very nice cabin, and she was right. It would be at least twice the price on a rental site. But Jack was an odd one, maybe he didn’t need the money.
She didn’t put much thought into it again though. She had three nights there and was determined to use them to relax and rehab.
OoOoO
Sam settled in after that. She had brought a cooler from home with the essentials for food, and of course brought a few things to work on. But the fishing thing intrigued her now that she was at the cabin.
So once unpacked, she ventured out to the shed to look at the equipment. Sure enough, there were a few fishing poles and hooks in there. There was also a wire basket to hook to the pier to drop the fish in once caught to keep them until it was time to clean them. It was getting dark so she figured the fishing would be an activity for the next day.
She meandered down to the pier next. It was small, big enough for a chair or two but not much else. Next to it was a tethered canoe and she had seen oars in the shed. Maybe she would be in for a little boat ride at some time. If nothing else it would be good exercise.
Once the sun went down, Sam settled in. She made a new fire in the woodstove, cooked dinner, just pasta, veggies and chicken and connected to the wifi. The signal wasn’t very strong and she finally figured it was best on the couch, so that is where she landed.
After ignoring emails, she opened a book to read, letting the quiet of the space surround her. It was really relaxing. She did wonder, though, about Jack. He looked like at some time he had functioned in society. She thought maybe something drove him out there, but also knew it was solidly none of her business. She also couldn’t shake that he looked familiar and maybe she had heard his name before. Maybe just because he was a friend of Hammond’s.
She headed to bed early, finding the sheets to be a little scratchy, but once she had her pajama pants on, they were adequate. The towels were not the best either and she wondered if he had just gone and gotten the cheapest thing in order to set up the rental. He very well may be one of those “minimum effort” guys. But again, at the price she was paying, she could have dealt with a lot worse.
OoOoO
Sam woke up the next morning feeling very rested. She wondered if it was the clean mountain air or just the fact that she wasn't home. Whatever it was, it was great.
After making a big breakfast of an egg burrito, with plenty of leftovers for the next few days, and coffee, she showered and got dressed. It was a slower pace after all, but felt like she was at a snail's pace compared to her regular routine. Again it was nice though.
When she went out to her car she heard the sound of a chainsaw coming from Jack’s property, then thought back to the neatly stacked wood for the woodstove both in the wood box in the cabin and also stacked just off the porch. He probably did it all himself. It was probably easy to keep busy out there.
The drive to the bait shop only took a few minutes and Sam thought that maybe if she had to go back she may consider walking next time.
She pulled up to the little store, advertising cold beer, groceries, snacks and bait and went inside. It was the atmosphere she expected, rustic, a little musty, with country music playing somewhere from a backroom. The dinging of the bell attached to the door brought the eyes of two women sitting behind the counter. Both were pretty, one older than the other and they were clearly related, maybe mother and daughter. The younger one looked to be about eighteen and the older about fifty.
“Hi, welcome in. How can we help you?” the older one asked.
Sam smiled at them. “Hi, I’m renting a place up the road and the guy who owns it said I could come here for fishing bait. I was just curious what you would recommend. Oh, and I need a fishing license.”
The woman stood, giving her a warm smile. “Oh, you’re renting Jack’s place. I think you’re the first. How is it?”
“It's nice, cozy. He did a good job with it.”
“Yeah, he’s been working on it. Are you a friend of his?”
“A friend of a friend, actually. Well really his friend is my superior officer. It’s a long story.”
“General Hammond? Oh, we love him. He’s so nice.”
“You know the General?”
“Yeah Jack brings him in sometimes.”
Sam nodded, having a hard time seeing Jack bringing anyone anywhere. “Yeah, General Hammond is a nice man,” Sam agreed.
“So is Jack,” the younger one piped up.
The mother looked down at her daughter, shaking her head. “He’s far too old for you, Kenzie.”
“That doesn’t keep him from being hot,” the girl remarked with a smile.
Sam smiled back. “Well, I only met him yesterday. I mean he was nice enough, but-” she stopped, not wanting to fuel any gossip or give a bad impression that she was talking badly about him, when in actuality she had no opinion. Sure he was a little cold, but maybe it was because she was just a new person.
“Oh, he always comes off as gruff at first. It’s part of his charm.”
“I find that a little hard to believe,” Sam answered before she could check herself.
“Nah, really. He’s good. He comes in and talks sometimes, plays poker every now and then with my husband. But we’ve been here for years. I’m Marybeth, by the way.”
“I’m Sam,” Sam answered.
“Nice to meet you Sam, now let’s see about that bait.”
Sam left almost a half hour later. Marybeth turned out to be quite the local historian and explained a lot, including what the fish seemed to be biting on. It seemed like the bait shop was a place that all the locals went to get supplies, gossip and whatever.
After paying for her bait, some homemade cookies, the license and a few other supplies. Sam took her bags. “Well thank you for all the information. I may be back, I figure I probably forgot a few things.“
“Come back anytime,” Marybeth said. “And give Jack a chance. He’s not easy to get to know, but he’s really great, funny too. I get the feeling he has his fair share of demons, but he’s really a good man. He can tell a good story too.”
Sam shook her head. “Oh, he’s not very interested in telling me anything. But I’m a guest anyway. He made it pretty clear. But thank you a lot.”
Marybeth gave her a wink and a knowing smile, which Sam was completely unable to interpret and said goodbye.
OoOoO
It was still early and before lunch, plus she had eaten a few cookies, so she went and set herself up to fish. Marybeth had recommended some stinky little red balls that came in a jar for the bait. Sam of course, was prepared and had a few pairs of nitrile gloves in her car for when she got gas, so she put them on. She also figured that her hands wouldn’t smell so bad after fishing so she wore them. Who would see her anyway? She put on a loose long sleeve cotton shirt over her jeans, just to keep the sun off and was on her way.
She grabbed one of the rods, the wire basket thing for the fish and a camp chair from the shed and headed down. It took a minute to set it all up,. The basket attached to the pier and extended out of the water, so you could drop fish in, then they would fall through a trap door and into a larger basket that was under the water. It took a minute to bait the hook and cast, but eventually she was able to cast out, let it sit for a little while and slowly bring the line back in, much like her father taught her years ago.
She got a few nibbles early on and something stole the bait once so she figured she was on the right track. She settled into the camp chair and took a deep breath. It was relaxing being there. The SGC had the constant buzz of movement and energy, but being out in nature really felt good.
The sun was warm on her cheeks and birds were calling in the distance. She could get used to this. Now she saw why people opted to live out of the cities. It just felt really good to be unplugged.
After a little while she heard the splash of something in the water and looked over to her right. She hadn’t noticed before, but now Jack stood on his own pier a few hundred feet away, casting out his own line. He had a camp chair much like hers and was reclined in it. He wore his brown cap pulled low over his eyes, dark sunglasses on and was staring out at the water. If he saw her he didn’t acknowledge it.
Sam shrugged, if there was one thing he was not, it was social. She thought back to what Marybeth had said about him being nice and actually funny. Sam wondered under what circumstances that would be. It certainly wasn’t anything she could see.
There were a few more nibbles on her line and Sam figured she would cast it out a few more times before cleaning up and having lunch. Her afternoon plans included cracking open a brand new book written by a colleague. She had been looking forward to it for weeks.
When she was bringing in her line before what she figured would be her last cast of the morning, she felt it snag. She gave it a pull and it moved some, getting a few feet from her, but seemed to snag again. She cursed under her breath. She wiggled it back and forth for a second and tried again, giving it an even bigger tug, pulling hard, knowing either it would come loose or the line would break.
Suddenly it came loose, the rod snapping back. Sam felt a sharp pain in her right hand at the base of her right index finger.
“Ouch! Dammit!” she yelled, dropping the rod and looking at her hand. Sure enough, when the hook came out of the water, the force of her pull made it swing back, causing the hook to poke her through her glove and into the web of skin between her index and middle finger. The bait was still attached too.
She dropped to her knees, bringing her hand up for a better look. It wasn’t bleeding much, but was stuck. She looked around. She didn’t even have a tackle box. She chastised herself for not even grabbing her knife before she went down. What was she thinking? She was always better prepared than this.
She slowly started to get up, but quickly realized the line was still attached to the hook, which was through her.
She would have to bring the whole rig inside to cut the line then cut the hook out.
She didn’t even hear the footsteps behind her and jumped at the sound of the voice.
“Did the hook get you?” came a rough voice.
She turned, dragging the pole with her to see Jack O’Neill standing there, wearing a bit of a smirk.
“Uh yeah, “ she said, cursing herself.
Jack took a few steps closer, whipping out a knife and cut the line, releasing the pole.
Then he turned to her, reaching for her hand. “Lemme see.”
She held out her hand to him and he froze. “Why are you wearing gloves?” he asked.
“I uh, Marybeth told me that the bait was stinky so I figured I would wear them to my hands, didn't...” she trailed off.
She couldn’t see much of his face because of his sunglasses, but could guess he was looking incredulously at her.
With a shake of his head, he took her hand in his, his calloused hands in stark contrast to hers wearing the purple nitrile.
He tore away the already ripped glove to reveal the hook embedded in her skin. “It doesn’t look too bad, “ he commented. Then reaching behind him to his belt, he unsnapped something and pulled out a multi tool, which he flipped open with practiced ease. He cut the end of the hook near where the line was attached then looked up at her. “Ready?” he asked.
She took a breath, “Yeah.”
He grabbed the hook, now without its end, with the pliers of the multitool and pulled it out of her skin quickly.
Sam hissed for a second then looked down at her hand. The hook was out and Jack held it up in the pliers.
“You’re free,” he said.
“Thank you, I was wondering how I was going to make that happen.”
“There’s a lot of branches and stuff under the water. Be careful. Have you had a tetanus shot?”
Sam smiled hugely at him, pulling back her shirt sleeve to reveal a big scab that had formed over a big abrasion from a recent mission. “I’m well immunized,” she quipped, “I get a lot of dirty wounds at work. It’s the price of doing business.”
He nodded slowly and she wondered what he was looking at behind those sunglasses. “Yeah,” he replied slowly. Turning back towards his place.
“Thanks again, “ Sam called after him.
“I’ll be home if you need me,” he said over his shoulder.
Sam watched him go. She could have absolutely fixed the problem herself and was a little mad at herself for not being prepared. Also she was embarrassed that he caught her wearing the gloves, though she stood by the reasoning for it. It just made her look like a noob, that was all, a feeling she hated.
It was nice for him to come over and help though. There was definitely something intriguing about him. Maybe it was the confidence in his step, or the quirk of his mouth that looked like it wanted to smile, but she was interested in him. He didn’t have a mean aura, but maybe a sad one?