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A Time to Heal

Friday: A Long Time Coming

For a change it was actually a reasonable time of day when Jack drew near
to home that Friday afternoon. He had left the base early to run an
errand, getting the airman to drop him off in town. It had taken him well
over an hour to walk, or at least dawdle, from the centre towards the
rural outskirts where his house was situated.

Yeah 'dawdle' is right, Jack thought to himself ruefully. He wasn't sure
why he had walked so slowly, he did have a lot of thinking to do and this
was always a good way to do it. But that wasn't it, he just didn't know
what he was going to do when he reached his destination. He was simply
delaying the inevitable loneliness that would hit him as soon as he
entered that empty house. It had never bothered him so much before, but
lately Jack had realised just what was missing and now he couldn't get
thoughts of Sara out of his mind.

It had almost seemed easier the first time she left. For a start he'd had
things to do back then, like finding a place of his own so he could move
out of their family home and leave it for Sara, knowing he could never
withstand the memories that house would always hold for him anyway.

And it had taken months to fix up the decrepit ruin he had bought into
something liveable. An absorbing task he had thrown himself into
wholeheartedly, something to help him forget and move on. Except now he
realised it had only been his body and mind that had moved on, his heart
had stayed right back with Sara, resolutely refusing to budge, until he
was forced to simply ignore that part of himself completely.

Now as debilitated as he was by his annoying injuries, he had nothing to
immerse himself in that would require such complete concentration of
physical and mental effort. Instead he was left with a wandering mind
that had nowhere to go except back.

At least he was spending his time rebuilding bridges, first with Daniel
and now the bar waitress whose head he'd managed to get smashed in almost
exactly two weeks before. He had not stopped to talk with Maggie for
long. She seemed really kind, but he had sensed she was the sort who
would not be shy to ask questions and Jack wasn't sure he could handle
another grilling right now.

Tomorrow it was Cassie's turn. At least applying some care and attention
to mending that relationship would be a bit less like having teeth
pulled, Jack decided with a soft smile.

If only he had been able to do the same with Sara, but he had always
known that would be an impossible task. With them it was more like a
suspension bridge, permanently jammed into the open position, with each
one of them stranded on opposite sides of the river.

Now he was near home with a long evening ahead of him, and a gorgeous one
at that. It was warm and sunny, slightly hazy from the heat. It gave him
an excuse to sit out on the deck and watch the sun go down, but it was
hardly going to fill up his evening, or his shattered life.

Jack had never acknowledged until now just how much he relied on his work
for fulfilment, even his social life tended to revolve around his team or
other members of the SGC. A case in point was the fact that the only
thing he had planned for the weekend involved the base doctor and her
daughter.

He had fended off Daniel's offer to come round and watch the game with
him that weekend, not to mention the younger man's earlier suggestion for
the whole team to descend on the Colonel's house for a few rounds of
poker. Jack wasn't ready for anything like that yet. He still hadn't
quite found his feet with other people in general. He could handle one at
a time was about all, but at least he was getting plenty of practice at
that.

Yeah, a lot of bridges to rebuild, he thought to himself again as he
turned into his driveway and stopped in his tracks.

Parked on the gravel forecourt like some heavenly apparition was one sexy
soft top black and chrome Wrangler Jeep. Jack swallowed, his pulse racing
a little too fast as he tried to convince himself he was just
hallucinating again. Until the vehicle's even sexier owner appeared from
around the side of the house.

"Hi there," Sara greeted him lightly, "I was about to give up and get my
lock pick out!" she grinned. "Well actually, to be honest, I was thinking
about climbing the trellis to get in through that open window up there,"
she pointed to the second storey. "You really should be more careful
about security you know. Anybody could get into your house."

Jack blinked, wondering whether he should pinch himself. He was slightly
afraid that as soon as he spoke she would disappear in a puff of smoke.

Sara glanced at him, her apprehension increasing when he failed to speak,
leaving her to continue to fill the void with inane chatter that would
never pass her lips under less nervous circumstances.

She had returned home that morning to discover a strange message from
Jack on her answering machine. An odd tone to his voice that had left her
sleepless for several hours worrying about its significance. Eventually,
she had woken up not long after lunchtime, feeling strangely lost and on
edge, and had spent a long time lying in bed thinking about the obvious
reason for her unease.

After three years apart and several months before that when they had only
been living together in the sense that they still shared the same
address, Sara was surprised when she realised the depth of feeling she
retained for her ex-husband. Two weeks ago, she was able to justify her
emotions by telling herself it was simply sympathy for what Jack had
apparently suffered. Yet when she saw him last night he had looked so
much better, apart from the odd puzzling bruise on his face that she
couldn't recall seeing the first time and thought really should have
faded by now.

So there was no reason for her to still feel sorry for him. She had to
face facts. The strength of her love for him had never really faded at
all, no matter how much she had convinced herself otherwise in the
preceding lonely years. Sara knew she shouldn't even be considering
getting involved with Jack again, yet somehow she couldn't help wondering
what would happen if she did.

Contemplating whether it could possibly work out for better or worse and
what harm might be done if she risked trying, Sara had remembered that
early Saturday morning almost a fortnight before. She had thought of that
kiss, an unrelenting passion burning within that had almost dissolved her
reservations. She vividly recalled breaking away, turning from Jack's
vulnerable gaze, telling him how she couldn't go through it again, how it
hurt too much to be with him. And it did, there were so many unresolved
issues between them, ones that were better left buried deep for both
their sakes, surely?

Sara remembered how guilty she had felt for even letting herself be taken
into his arms, for sharing such a tender kiss in the first place, knowing
his weakened, susceptible state. She had tried her best to forget him in
the last eighteen months since that strange encounter with Jack and his
team. It had been the only way she could cope without being convinced she
was totally losing her mind. At first she had desperately wanted to call
him up and ask what the hell had happened, but she knew Jack would not be
able to answer her questions and his unresponsive silence would have been
even worse than never asking at all.

But now Sara knew she had been fooling herself to think she was over him,
recalling how her heart had clenched painfully with Daniel's few words of
explanation about Jack's condition. That the Colonel had been captured,
held for over a week, shut up in a confined space. That, in Daniel's
words, Jack got hurt pretty badly.

Above all, Sara remembered that brief encounter in his bathroom. The
sight of his battered chest, the stark bruising, his pale face, the lost
use of his right hand so heavily encased in plaster, and a timeless
embrace. Her hands on his naked flesh, the strength of love that had
resurged within her, an undying need to hold him unto eternity. It had
taken all her resolve to release him, to walk away, her heart wrenching,
the feel of his lips still burning her forehead where he had placed the
softest of kisses. The sense of him watching her as she left.

She remembered saying goodbye to Daniel and driving away in her Jeep,
reaching the seclusion of her own home before she had broken down and
sobbed, her heart filled to breaking point with renewed grief, combined
with anguish for what had been done to Jack. She missed him so badly and
now she needed him even more. Sara desperately wanted to be able to hold
him, comfort him, make everything better for him, soothe his nightmares
and fulfil his dreams.

And she needed him for herself too. She needed the love that he could
provide, the emotional balance that she had always felt when the two of
them were together, a sense of equilibrium, the feeling of being whole
again. She yearned to make love with him like they had before, at times
gentle, comforting, or passionate, fiery, exciting, even dangerous. It
had been all those things during their relationship, fulfilling the need
and the craving with almost embarrassing frequency when they were
together, making up for their time apart when Jack was so often called
away from home.

A basic desire long repressed had resurfaced with that first tentative
kiss nearly two weeks before, deep feelings surging forth as his lips
brushed tenderly against hers. An almost overpowering urge to surrender
into his arms that she had barely managed to suppress. And now Sara found
herself regretting that she had ever done such a thing. Wishing that she
had given into him, that they had shared their passion and love one more
time.

So it was with a new resolve that Sara had climbed out of bed that
lunchtime, determined to make one final effort to test the waters between
them. She knew she was being selfish, that things could go horribly wrong
and they could both get badly hurt, which was the last thing she wanted
to do to Jack. Even so, she had to try. Instead of spending the rest of
her life too afraid to commit to another relationship, she had to know
whether there could ever be anything more between them, before she would
finally be able to forget about the past and get on with her life.

So Sara had arrived outside Jack's home, finding it locked up, quiet and
empty. She was wondering what to do next when he had turned into the
drive, stopping in his tracks when he spotted her.

Sara's smile faltered nervously as she saw the way Jack was staring at
her in shock. "I figured maybe the way to get you eating properly again
might be with some home cooked food," she hesitantly began to explain her
presence in his driveway. "And.......well, I realised you weren't up to
doing much cooking for yourself, what with your hand and all, so I
thought.......if you don't have anything planned for this
evening.......that I'd come over and cook us both dinner, assuming you
don't mind," she smiled sheepishly, praying he would say something,
anything, or else she might just jump in her car and flee.

"Mind? How could I possibly mind!" Jack smiled curiously, still somewhat
stunned by her surprising, but extremely welcome, appearance.

"Alternatively, we could just go out for milkshakes," Sara said lightly,
attempting to break through the awkwardness.

"I think I'd rather stay in, especially if you're going to be here," Jack
said almost bashfully, finally taking a step forward to open the front
door and let her into his home.

                         *******************

"Dinner will be about half an hour," Sara announced, stepping through the
sliding doors onto the deck with a couple of drinks in her hands. She had
banished Jack from the kitchen, flatly refusing his offers of help,
sending him out to relax in the evening sunshine rather than having him
watch her every move. Her nervousness growing along with her misgivings
over what she could possibly be doing in his house, and how foolhardy her
actions might prove to be.

Jack glanced up in response, a distant look in his eyes. He slowly
focused on her, accepting the glass of juice that she offered him.
"Thanks," he murmured softly, gazing at her smiling face, wishing he
could see into her soul. He wondered if he could possibly read anything
deeper in her arrival at his house than her professed intention to ensure
he was fed properly for a change. She had shown no indication of wanting
anything more and he knew he shouldn't even be thinking of such things.
In fact he had been telling himself that for the last hour, as the heat
of the day slowly waned and the sun began to set, perfectly timed for
Sara's appearance outside.

"It's so beautiful here," she exclaimed quietly, sitting down in one of
the wooden chairs and placing her glass of apple juice on the nearby
table. Above the distant peaks, a few clouds were forming lazily, the
sun's rays slowly turning them golden, through orange, and into pink hues
as the ball of red fire gradually sank beyond the mountainous horizon.

Shifting his gaze from the setting sun back to Sara, Jack's heart
clenched painfully as he saw the way her face was lit up in the golden
glow, her eyes sparkling, clearly contented with her lot. And Jack knew
he would do nothing to endanger her happiness, no matter how much he
wanted to ask her to stay, he could never do it, not that night or any
night.

That fact made his heart ache more badly than ever, crushed beneath a
wave of loss that was becoming horribly familiar to him, every time he
looked at Sara, her bright blue gaze, her warm smile. The impact was
unbearable and Jack quickly glanced away, swallowing against the lump in
his throat as he tried to focus back onto the sunset. Its colours now
seeping into the mountains, slowly turning dull and shadowy against the
encroaching night sky, the changing tones accompanying his despondency.

A buzzer sounded loud through the kitchen window that Sara had opened
against the building heat from the oven and she excused herself to
disappear back inside. Jack sighed deeply, taking the opportunity to
gather his resolve, telling himself to just make the most of her company
while it lasted that evening, no matter how chaste. Soon it would be over
and she would be gone forever from his life again.

                         *******************

Even Jack's non-existent appetite was beginning to be tempted with the
tantalising smells wafting from the kitchen by the time Sara called him
inside to eat. The meal was intentionally simple, enough so for even
Jack's stomach to cope with and yet it was delicious. A home cooked
vegetable lasagne, with a crisp green salad to accompany it.

Sara had deliberately avoided using meat, instead preferring to entice
Jack's taste buds, apparently missing in action, with something healthy
that would not be a strain on his bruised kidney. She had also wanted to
find something that did not resemble fast food by any stretch of the
imagination.

Concerned by his apparent queasiness when eating generally, Sara wondered
if it was perhaps some sort of psychological rejection, the root of which
she could not possibly imagine and wasn't sure that even Jack was aware
of.

So it was heart warming for Sara to see the way Jack tucked into the
meal, slowly at first, tentatively savouring an initial bite as if
curious to see whether his stomach would accept it or if his taste buds
would acknowledge the flavour. Soon he was hungrily eating both salad and
lasagne, taking full forks at a time, none of the forced picking and
nibbling Sara had witnessed in the diner the previous day.

If this was the reaction Jack had to proper home cooked food, perhaps she
would simply have to keep turning up on his doorstep with an arm full of
groceries until he finally regained some of the weight he had lost during
the last seven weeks.

That thought pulled her up short and Sara wondered sadly whether he would
ever reveal anything of that time to her, whether he would ever let her
back into his heart to help share even the tiniest burden of what he had
endured. She swallowed a mouthful of lettuce past the lump now
constricting her throat, uncertain of what the remaining evening would
bring and suddenly afraid that this might be the last time they would
share anything good together.

When they had finished eating, Sara offered Jack dessert, basically a
selection of fresh fruit. But he assured her he was completely full,
having cleaned his plate of the reasonably sized portion she had tested
him with, and reiterated his glowing remarks about her delicious cooking.

"Thanks," he finished almost shyly, "You know you didn't have to go to
all this trouble."

"I wanted to Jack," Sara told him, adding quietly, "I needed to do
something, for my own sake."

Jack looked at her, holding her gaze with his soft brown eyes and Sara
felt herself relaxing at last, certain that, no matter what happened that
evening, it could not possibly be the last time she ever saw that face,
she wouldn't allow it to be.

She shifted in her seat, reaching across to gather the dishes as she
pushed the chair away from the table and stood up.

"I'll wash up," Jack offered, "I think I can at least manage that one
handed."

Not for the first time, his self-deprecating smile made her go weak at
the knees and Sara inwardly scolded herself for such ridiculous
behaviour. Still it stopped her from arguing with him and she dutifully
followed him into the kitchen, carrying dirty crockery to place on the
counter as he began to run hot water into the sink.

Sara finished clearing the table, then returned to grab a tea towel. She
began to wipe the dishes dry before stacking them on the counter to put
away, hoping she could remember where she had found them all in the first
place.

Jack practically had to hold his right hand behind his back in order to
stop himself from grabbing plates and glasses with it. The temptation to
overdo his use of it too soon was increasing with every fraction of new
movement he got from his fingers each time he exercised them. Still he
soon got into a rhythm with his left hand, dunking, wiping and placing
crockery on the drainer.

They worked in comfortable silence, except for the sound of splashing
water and clinking china. As Jack placed the last dripping plate onto the
rack, Sara's hand reached out to pick up one already there. Their fingers
brushed together briefly and Jack heard Sara's soft gasp of surprise as a
spark of electricity passed between them. They both pulled away as if
burnt, stunned that the simple touch had produced such a tingling
response.

For a long awkward moment neither of them moved, then Jack quickly stuck
his hand back beneath the soapy water before he was tempted to do
anything stupid with it. The urge to take Sara into his arms and kiss her
until they were both breathless was growing so powerful that it was
taking all his concentration to suppress it, but he knew one wrong move
and she would be straight out the door and out of his life for good.

Instead Jack fished around at length in the sink, hunting for any missed
items of cutlery and trying to ignore the tension he could feel emanating
from Sara still standing so close to him. His task finished, he rinsed
away the suds and moved back from the sink to grab a towel and dry his
hand.

Sara felt his eyes watching her closely as she continued to wipe crockery
trying to pretend that nothing had happened, which wasn't that far from
the truth, she told herself beratingly. Finally she turned around to meet
his hooded gaze, "Why don't you go on into the den, I'll finish putting
this stuff away and make some coffee. Do you want any?" He shook his
head. "Hot drink? Juice? Water?"

Jack continued his negative gestures until the list ended. "Sure I can't
do anything else?" he asked quietly, a confused frown briefly revealing
itself like a shadow across his face as he desperately tried to read her
expression.

"No, I've got this covered. I'll only be a few minutes," Sara assured him
a little too brightly.

Jack nodded reluctantly and pushed off the counter where he was leaning.
Replacing the towel on the hook, he glanced once more in Sara's
direction, but she had her back to him, taking particular care over
drying a glass. Jack frowned again, then shook his head and left the
room.

Entering the den, he sank down onto the sofa with a sigh and laid back
against the arm, raising his feet onto the opposite end and fidgeting
slightly until he got comfortable. He stared out through the open door at
the dark night sky, rubbing his eyes tiredly and stifling a yawn, wishing
he could figure out what might be going on inside Sara's head.

She had him so off balance and he knew it was not intentional on her
part, it was purely his own fault. He couldn't help imagining what it
would be like for them to be together again, not just in the physical
sense, but the way they had always been from the moment they met. Sara
had made him feel complete, as though that final missing piece of the
puzzle had been slotted into place. He had found someone to share his
life with, to take part in his triumphs, to give comfort and solace when
needed and allow him to do the same in return.

Jack knew the love he felt for Sara could never be matched and for that
he felt an immense loss, knowing he would never again experience such a
fulfilling relationship in this lifetime. It seemed so final, but it was
also realistic. He loved her too much, he always would. Noone else could
ever have his heart in that way all the time she still owned it, lock
stock and barrel.

Rubbing his face wearily, Jack wondered how it had gone so wrong, knowing
that he had been the one to blame. They had always been best friends as
well as lovers, supporting each other through thick and thin until that
dreadful moment when their world had come crashing down and time had
drawn all good things to an end. It had been several years now, but every
single second of that day was still so painfully fresh in his mind that
it hurt just to even contemplate remembering it.

Jack closed his eyes to the threatening images, not wanting to go there,
trying to blank out his thoughts, to push away the vivid memories of the
death of his child. He needed to shove them back into the deepest
recesses of his mind where he had kept them locked up tight since the day
it had happened, festering and brooding until he had driven Sara away and
lost everyone he had ever loved.

At the time, it had suited him far better that way. By isolating himself
there was less of a danger that he would actually have to face his
feelings, the blame and torment he felt over what had occurred. The
unspeakable grief of knowing he would never see his son grow up, never
share the ball games of his childhood, the rebellious stories of his
teenage years, or witness the wondrous events as the boy became a man and
perhaps had children of his own.

Unable to stop himself, Jack was trapped by his memories, the floodgates
had been opened by his prying mind, unable to leave it alone. Instead
lying there wondering about Sara had brought to the fore all those lost
hopes for their life together. Subconsciously Jack knew his only escape
was to drift away from it all, and he was unable to stop himself from
sinking into a tired doze, one corner of his mind praying he would not
take his memories with him this time.

                         *******************

It was with a certain amount of trepidation that Sara eventually wandered
into the dimly lit den. She had boxed up the leftover food and placed it
into the refrigerator before making herself some coffee and finding the
correct home for all the cutlery and dishes they had used. Now she was
uncertain of her next move, somewhat unsettled that a simple touch of
Jack's hand had such an effect on her, and worried by the apparent lack
of any similar feeling sparked within himself.

She placed her cup down onto the coffee table and glanced across at Jack.
A slight smile crossed her face when she realised he was asleep, eyes
closed, his chest rising and falling shallowly. Sara stood hesitating for
a moment, wondering if she should simply go home and leave him to rest,
knowing this was her chance to escape if she wanted to. But she couldn't
do it, she wasn't ready to leave, not yet. Instead she sank down into the
comfortably worn armchair beside the fireplace to watch over him for
awhile.

Gazing at his face, softly lit by the single side lamp switched on at the
opposite end of the sofa, Sara couldn't help notice how boyish he still
looked when he was sleeping, even though his hair was now turning grey.
Colour which had not been present the last time she saw him, albeit
briefly, over eighteen months ago.

Starting from his temples, the grey was slowly spreading in a way that
just seemed to make him even more handsome. His high cheekbones still
stood out a little too prominently from the loss of weight, simply adding
to the look of vulnerability about him as he slept.

Sara couldn't help being curious to see whether Jack really was sleeping
better as he had assured her that previous evening. She regarded him
closely, seeking any of the same outward indications from when his
nightmare induced cry had disturbed her dozing, early that Saturday
morning two weeks before.

Whilst she watched, Jack's breathing began to quicken slightly, his sleep
becoming more restless. He gradually shifted onto his right side, curling
up into a ball, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. Sara
recognised the signs immediately, not only had she seen them just a
fortnight ago, but also years before.

For a long time after he had returned from Iraq, Jack had suffered
countless nightmares, shocking and frightening disturbances that she had
never known the truth behind and he would never tell her, wanting to
protect her from the appalling reality of it. Instead Sara's own
imagination had exacerbated the impact on her tenfold, filling in the
gaps to fit what she saw on his face and heard in his sleep with what she
had seen on the news every day since he had left their home, sent off to
fight in some far away desert.

At the time, watching the reality of war, live on television, knowing
Jack was somewhere in the middle of it, was the worst experience of
Sara's life. A state rapidly superseded, first by the initial telephone
call to say that her husband was missing in action, presumed dead, and
then by the discovery that he was actually alive, but being held captive
in a prison camp.

That had been the real beginning of her nightmare, knowing that Jack was
still out there, alone and suffering. Sara had seen the news reports, the
POWs paraded in front of the cameras by the Iraqis, battered and beaten,
subjected to horrendous deprivations until they would do anything, say
anything, even to millions of viewers around the world.

The helplessness she had felt with that new knowledge had been almost too
much to handle, if it were not for her undying hope that some day they
might still be together again. But seeing him in the hospital for the
first time since his release left her angry and confused, not knowing
whether he would ever be the same again, whether hope and love would ever
be enough.

Of course, she had never told him. She could never burden him with her
own feelings on the matter when he already had too much to bear, too much
to forget. Jack had enough to face, struggling to overcome his injuries
and his fears, so all Sara had been able to do was offer her husband
comfort and understanding, love and support. Something that she again
felt compelled to provide now, at the

sight of his new nightmare, more suffering that he had been forced to
endure. Something that simply served to remind her how she had never
stopped loving him, how that was never the reason she had left him.

It had been Jack's refusal to let her in after Charlie's death that had
driven Sara away, his refusal to spread the burden of responsibility that
he felt, or to allow them to help each other. If he had only been willing
to share what was in his heart, to accept forgiveness, then perhaps they
would still be together, perhaps.

But after everything Jack had been through, everything he had learned
from his appalling experiences, the most valuable lesson was one he had
never applied to himself - the ability to forgive.

Now whilst Sara watched, Jack's sleep was becoming increasingly
disturbed. His lips moved soundlessly, his face creasing in the grip of
emotions that left her wondering what could possibly be causing them this
time. Expressions of fear, horror and grief contorted his features, their
appearance made even more shocking when Jack suddenly called out her
name, an anguished cry from the depths of his torment, "Sara!"

Startled not only by the word but by the way he said it, Sara's heart
thudded in her chest, pounding painfully hard. She stared at him open
mouthed, wondering how she had come to be included in one of Jack's
nightmares. And in that moment, Sara knew that she had to find out the
truth, no matter how hurtful the discovery might be, before she could
ever consider any renewed relationship with this man.

That thought pulled her up short, and for the first time she realised
that was really what she was considering doing, re-establishing some form
of relationship with her ex-husband. And somehow the idea no longer
frightened her like it had before, in fact the thought of not trying, of
spending the rest of her life wondering 'what if', scared her more. If
only they could address some of the problems between them.

Jack began tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling painfully,
incoherently. The anguish in his tone was distressing, heart rending.
Sara stood up and crossed the room, kneeling down on the floor beside the
sofa. She reached out a hand hesitantly, needing to touch him but
reluctant to wake him from the grip of such a terrifying nightmare for
fear of the psychological toll it could have on him. Still she
desperately wanted to comfort him, to somehow pull him back into a
dreamless state, for her own sake as much as for his.

Laying her fingertips lightly on his head, she stroked his tousled hair,
whispering soft assurances and trying to soothe away his nightmares.

When Jack eventually began to settle, Sara sat back on her heels. Her
fingers absently brushed a strand of hair from his face, trailing down
his cheek to trace the line of his jaw, a wistful smile curving the
corners of her mouth. Catching herself in her daydream, she pulled her
hand away quickly, wondering what on earth she was doing thinking any
such thoughts with so many unresolved issues floating between them.

As if sensing the loss of her contact, Jack's eyelids fluttered. Ethereal
images drifted loosely in the forefront of his mind, their impact only
slightly dulled by his more gradual awakening. Awareness slowly returned
to him, bringing with it the horribly familiar sense of grief for the end
of his family.

When Jack opened his eyes, his first sight was like an oasis in his
isolated world. A pretty blonde head and a pair of sparkling blue eyes
gazed at him, curious and concerned as he came back to the present. He
blinked at her with such vulnerability in that unprotected moment between
wakefulness and sleep. A lost look in his liquid brown eyes that tugged
at Sara's heart, crumbling her remaining defences.

He smiled weakly, his voice soft, surprised, "You're here." He lifted his
hand to her face as if needing proof of contact, stroking a shaking
finger down her cheek.

Sara leaned into his hand, powerless to deny him or to repress her own
needs any longer. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she surrendered to his
tentative touch, holding his gaze, feeling the lightness of his
fingertips tenderly trailing down the line of her jaw to brush against
her neck.

Jack stared at her, chewing his lip slightly, acting on instinct alone.
He hesitantly moved his hand over the silky blouse covering her shoulder,
burying his fingers within the soft strands of hair falling at the nape
of her neck. The pressure he applied was almost non-existent, but still
she responded, tilting towards him, vaguely wondering which one of them
was more nervous as her face reflected his own anxious expression.

The initial touch was so delicate, a whisper of breath between them as
their lips tentatively met. But the effect was electrifying and Sara felt
all conscious thought slipping away from her, losing herself in his kiss,
barely able to breathe as the intensity increased and they both responded
equally.

Jack slid his feet to the floor, sitting up, his lips on hers as she
stretched up towards him, their heads almost on a level par. Their eyes
closed, freeing the senses to feel, hear, touch, taste, to soak up the
moment and absorb every spellbinding second of contact between them.

Placing his right hand lightly on the back of Sara's head, Jack let his
strapped fingers entangle loosely in her blonde hair, moving his left
hand to caress her cheek with his thumb. His fingers trailed down her
neck, resting on the smooth warm skin at the edge of her blouse
guilelessly.

Sara's hands gripped his strong shoulders, massaging his firm muscles
beneath her fingertips, slowly drifting beneath his denim shirt to trace
the line of his collar bone through his soft cotton t-shirt. Her light
touch nuzzled his neck, stroking against the tendons that shifted as his
mouth moved on hers.

Reaching the back of his head, Sara's fingers played in his hair,
tousling the soft strands as she pulled him nearer, tighter, her lips
pressing against him harder as their kiss grew more powerful. She moved
in even closer, wrapping him in her embrace until she could feel his
heart thudding against her body. Trailing her fingers down over the
muscles of his back, she felt him respond in the same way. Permission
given in her own movements, he brushed his fingertips down her spine with
a touch so sensuous it raised goosebumps on her skin.

Sara shivered delightfully, deepening the kiss, letting herself go in the
heat of increasing desire. She tangled her tongue with his, raking her
fingers down his back in a way that made him shudder.

She leaned against him, deliberately nudging him off balance to lie back
on the sofa. Her hand pushed at his left side and Jack gasped in painful
surprise against her mouth.

Sara pulled back, her brain suddenly switching gears at his reaction,
sensible thought returning to her as she drew away, panting and swaying
on her knees as she regarded him carefully. Her lips were swollen red
with their kisses, her hair as mussed as his.

Jack gazed back, almost afraid to move, not wishing to do anything to
cause her to stop the heavenly advances she was making towards him. He
blinked at her, breathing hard and trying not to wince at the sudden pain
flaring in his ribs. His pulse raced, their heated contact still tingling
on his lips.

Sara looked at him, debating with herself between common sense and
foolhardiness, unwilling to give in to either. She noticed the dark
shadows under his eyes, letting herself delay the decision with a simple
manoeuvre. "It's getting late. You've still got a lot of sleep to catch
up on, you ought to be in bed," she told him gently.

Jack smothered his dejected look before it was even revealed, half
expecting her words, recognising the end to her moment of weakness. He
swallowed dryly, his voice husky, saying the first thing that came into
his head in an effort to stop himself from asking her to stay. No matter
how much he wanted her to, he would never attempt to push her into that.

"Actually I thought I'd sleep on the deck tonight," Jack admitted
sheepishly, the remnants of his nightmare still too fresh in his mind to
contemplate staying indoors alone. "It's a crystal clear sky," he added
as if to give a better reason for wanting to be outside.

Sara knew the truth, she remembered only too well the countless nights,
so many years ago, when he had slept in the backyard alone instead of
staying in their own bed.

"No you don't, not tonight, Colonel," she responded forcefully in a
manner that Jack knew would have to be obeyed, for the moment at least.

Sara pulled the sliding doors closed and locked them, gesturing with her
hand to urge him upstairs. "Bed!" she said in a motherly tone and Jack's
sense of loss increased almost unbearably, knowing she was about to leave
him again. Yet all he could do was stand up and follow her orders,
heading out into the hall towards the stairs, utterly bereft.

Sara watched Jack leave the room, catching herself admiring the way he
moved, fluidly, without one iota of wasted energy in his motion. His
black jeans hugged his hips and legs as he walked away, the pale blue
denim shirt tucked into his waist, serving to accentuate his tall slim
frame. She gazed after him thoughtfully as he disappeared up the stairs,
then she did a quick check around the ground floor and ensured everything
in the kitchen was switched off and closed up.

It gave her time enough to make one decision that was not surprisingly
easy considering all the lustful thoughts in her head, so long as she
refused to listen to the little voice that told her she was being weak,
that she was ignoring the real issues. Sara went along to the front door
and secured the latch, turning towards the stairs with a smile of
anticipation lighting her face.

When she reached the bedroom, Jack had opened the window wide to the cool
late evening breeze and was sitting on the bed, looking lost and fiddling
aimlessly with his shoes.

"Here let me help you," Sara grinned, announcing her presence and
enjoying his startled look as she moved towards him.

"I thought you were going," Jack said, eventually finding his voice as he
watched her kneel down beside him to slowly unzip his leather boots.

Sara looked up, boldly holding his gaze, smiling with a look that was
heavy with her intentions, "Do you want me to?" she asked softly.

Jack shook his head, swallowing nervously, trying not to get his hopes up
by her unexpected appearance in his bedroom. He barely dared to breathe,
completely unsettled by her actions so far that evening. Knowing how
fragile a line they were walking, he felt utterly powerless to make any
moves for fear of upsetting the balance in the wrong direction. The lack
of control was unnerving to him, all he could do was wait to see what
would happen next.

Sara slipped his boots off and stretched up towards him, her hands
trailing languorously up his legs. She slowly pushed his knees apart to
nestle her body between them, letting her desire overtake all cognitive
thought, loving the smile of sweet surprise on his face.

Her fingertips traced patterns across his thighs and rested on his hips
as she moved nearer. She tilted her head up towards him to renew contact
with his lips, gentle at first, a whisper soft breath on his mouth to
test his response. Jack moved his hand to the back of her neck, his
fingers playing in her hair, pulling her closer for the tenderest of
kisses. His lips brushed hers tentatively, their need increasing as she
leaned into him, her jaw moving eagerly, hungry for the taste and the
feel of him after years of repressed longing.

With growing yearning, Sara's hands began to move across his abdomen, her
fingers raking circles over his jeans. Jack closed his eyes and gave into
the sensations she was provoking within him, kissing her breathlessly,
wrapping his arms around her slim waist to draw her near. His left hand
stroked her back through the silky material of her blouse, his strapped
up right fingers tangling in her soft blonde hair as he hugged her body
against him, loving the feel of her after so long apart.

Sara's hands continued their progression, moving lightly across his chest
and around to his back, her fingers running up and down his spine,
producing a shiver of reaction beneath his denim shirt. She raised them
higher, stroking his neck and tousling his hair, coming to rest in the
soft brown strands as she leaned into his mouth even harder. Her tongue
pushed between his teeth, tangling with his own deliciously, tasting him,
savouring the assault on her senses as his hands traced sensuous patterns
on her back and shoulders.

Breathless, Sara gradually softened the kiss, her hands drifting over
Jack's collar to his chest. She pulled away from his grasp slightly to
reach for the top button of his shirt, slowly undoing it, then moving to
the next one, her fingernails raking a path down over his soft white t-
shirt.

When she eventually reached his waist, she moved her fingers lower again,
teasingly stroking the black jeans before gently pulling his shirt from
the waist. She finished undoing the last couple of buttons and pushed the
denim off his shoulders, finally parting from his lips with a whisper
light kiss so that she could drag each sleeve slowly down his arms.
Panting, her face flushed, Sara carefully eased the cuff of his shirt
over the strapping on his right hand.

Breathing hard, Jack's free hand stroked up her back to her shoulder as
she moved away from his embrace, relishing the feel of her warm body
beneath the silky cream blouse she was wearing. His fingers trailed down
her tanned arm, tickling the smooth bare skin in the crook of her elbow,
raising goosebumps in his wake.

When Sara stretched across to remove his other sleeve her midriff showed
above her jeans and Jack tried to move his hand to touch her naked skin.
Catching his intentions out of the corner of her eye, she backed away
just far enough out of reach of his probing fingertips, trailing her
hands down his long muscular legs. She sat back on her heels to gaze at
him wickedly, knowing exactly what she was doing to him and wanting to
make the most of the rare power she had over him.

Never one to give in easily, Jack shifted tack, letting his fingers brush
against her right breast. Smiling at the catch in her breath, he deftly
undid the top button of her blouse, moving down to the next one before
she could react.

Sara closed her eyes to the delicious sensation, leaning into his left
hand willingly as his fingers stroked the silky skin of her neck, tracing
a path from her jaw, over her collar bone. Goosebumps spread over her
bare flesh as his fingers brushed against her.

He undid one more constricting button and moved his fingertips inside.
Jack smiled, a glint in his eye as he saw Sara bite her lip against the
wave of pleasure he was provoking within her, almost threatening her
concentration on the long drawn out process she was intent on pursuing.

Sara leaned in to smother his mouth, grasping his lip between her teeth
to bite down pleasurably. Her breath mixed with his, their tongues
tangled together, kissing with increasing ferocity, until she could bear
it no more, longing to feel his naked flesh beneath her fingertips. She
pulled his t-shirt from the back of his jeans and pushed her hands
beneath it to feel his warm smooth skin. She hugged him closer as her
fingers kneaded his strong back, enabling him to do the same to her, his
hand rising beneath her blouse leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

Panting breathlessly, Sara gazed at him, his eyes locked on hers, heavy
with desire. Intent on milking every exquisite moment from the
experience, Sara tried to slow things down, moving her lips to gently
kiss the faded bruise on his chin. Nuzzling her head against his
shoulder, she placed hot kisses on his neck, making a path along his jaw
line to nibble his ear lobe. He shivered deliciously, his eyes closing,
absorbing the sensation, goosebumps rising on his flesh from her soft
whispers of breath.

She shifted again, pulling away slightly to slowly finish easing his t-
shirt from the belt of his jeans. Her fingers starting at the small of
his back, running around his waist across his abdomen to gradually lift
the cotton material. Her hands lingered against his smooth warm skin as
she raised the shirt higher up his chest.

Jack came back down to earth with a bump when he heard her sharp intake
of breath, opening his eyes to see the horrified look on her face at the
discovery of such appalling new damage beneath his t-shirt.

"Jack, what happened.......I don't understand," she stammered, her voice
a strangled cry. She pushed the material higher, almost frantically
searching out every mark discolouring his chest and stomach. New bruises
on top of old ones, the fresher damage mixing starkly with his original
paler injuries.

Jack looked down to where her gaze came to rest, her shining blue eyes
fixed on his left side. He chewed his lip nervously as he regarded the
sight of the still pink scar, the stitches now removed. A huge blackened
bruise showed below it, slowly beginning to fade, but barely twelve days
old, not enough time for the colour to have less impact on her
unsuspecting eyes.

He stared at her guiltily, his heart wrenching when he saw the tears in
her eyes. He didn't know what to say, he had no explanation to offer her
that would not give her more cause for concern. Jack was completely
unprepared for this. Never in a million years had he thought he would be
in this situation, a distant hope maybe, but hope was never normally
enough and he didn't believe in miracles. Yet here she was. Here they
were.

Jack swallowed painfully. "Hit by a truck?" he offered feebly, reaching
his hand to brush hair from her tearful eyes.

"Jack," Sara's voice was almost a sob, "You've got to stop letting people
use you for a punching bag."

"Sara, it wasn't like that," Jack said softly, searching for words to
explain, anything he could say that might make her feel better. "It was
just part of the same um.......problem," he winced at how bad that
sounded. "Same thing, different time and place, that's all. Honestly,
this isn't a regular occurrence," he added desperately.

She gave him a look so doubtful, so heart rending, it caused him to
impart the one further piece of information he knew she probably would
not want to hear, but which he hoped might at least reassure her. "It's
over Sara, the other guy came off a lot worse," he murmured emphatically,
cupping her cheek in his hand to gaze into her watery blue eyes.

Sara abruptly pulled away from his touch, rocking back on her heels to
regard him uncertainly, then she shook her head remorsefully. Wiping a
hand over her eyes, she stood up and walked away, and Jack felt the grief
and loss all over again, slamming him in the heart like a fist. He held
his breath, rubbing his face with his hand nervously as he watched her
every move, reluctant to speak anymore for fear of making the situation
even worse, wondering how he could possibly deal with the pain if he lost
her again now.

Sara stood staring out the window into the black night, seeing only her
own accusing reflection glaring back. She turned her head slightly until
she saw Jack's face in the glass. He was gazing at her silently, waiting
for her next move.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," Sara said finally, almost to
herself, her soft voice plaintive, "How can I get involved with all that
again?" She turned to face him, slumping down onto the couch beneath the
window, somewhere in the back of her mind vaguely wondering just why Jack
did have a sofa in his bedroom.

She gazed into his liquid brown eyes looking for an answer she knew he
was unable to provide. "I mean, I know what you do is secret," she began
haltingly, looking down at her hands twisting in her lap nervously, "I
could accept that before. But I guess I always assumed that eventually
things would change, that you'd get a safer post, that I could stop
worrying about you." She shrugged miserably, "Because I do worry Jack, I
never stopped worrying. That 'other' encounter didn't exactly help
either," she added quietly. "And the very idea of you being captive again
tears me apart," she glanced up at him tearfully, seeing the look of
surprise on his face.

"How do you know about that?" he whispered hoarsely, shocked by her
apparent knowledge of the incident.

"Daniel told me, that Saturday when I called him round here," she told
him quietly. Seeing a look of fury cross his features, she added quickly,
"Don't blame Daniel, Jack. I was upset," she gestured futilely, "He was
upset. We were worried about you Jack, there's a lot of it going about."

"Daniel had no right to tell you anything," Jack hissed. "You don't have
to worry about me, Sara," he insisted infuriatingly, "I'm fine."

"Really? Well I'm sorry if I don't believe you!" Sara exclaimed hotly,
"Take a look at yourself, Jack! Look at the damage that keeps being
inflicted upon you," her voice caught in a sob and she wiped a trembling
hand over her eyes. "I can't do this," she shook her head miserably,
standing up and fastening her blouse as she walked towards the door.

Jack silently watched her go, feeling that fist grip his heart tightly,
twisting it, squeezing, until he thought it would shatter into a million
pieces. Still he couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear, how would it
possibly help?

Sara faltered in the doorway, one hand on the jamb as if to stop herself.
Suddenly realising that to walk through that exit would be to finally
close off this part of her life forever, something she could not do
without a fight, not anymore, not after what they had begun to share this
day. No, something had to give.

Jack held his breath, studying the tension in her shoulders, the way her
fingers were nervously tapping against the wooden door frame. He wished
he could place his hands on her body, pull her into his embrace, make
every one of her nightmares go away. But he knew that by telling Sara
even the smallest truth about what had happened to him, it would only add
to her pain and cause her to worry even more. So all he could do was
watch and wait, not daring to move, unable to approach for fear it would
drive her away completely.

"Jack, you don't have to protect us," Sara took a deep breath then turned
to face his confused look," Daniel and me. You don't always have to
protect us." She took a single step back into the room, giving him hope
with that simple movement. "We're grown adults, we can take whatever is
thrown at us. You know I have. Judging by the look in Daniel's eyes, I
get the feeling he has too," she shrugged knowing she wasn't expressing
herself very well, but she was so desperate to try and get through to him
one last time. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that there's no worse
nightmare than not knowing the truth. The imagination always manages to
conjure up something so much worse."

"Not this time," Jack said with a pained expression, his voice so soft it
was barely audible.

Sara gazed at him. "Tell me, Jack."

"I can't!" Jack's voice hitched in his throat, turning away from her
penetrating eyes, "I won't put you through that."

"Then I guess we have nothing more to say," Sara said resolutely,
refusing to give in to her desperate desire to hold him, to feel his warm
body against hers, knowing for it to even begin to work this time, it
would have to be all or nothing. She had been fooling herself to think
otherwise.

Jack gazed at her, trapped and confused. He swallowed, trying to figure
out whether there was anything he could say. He knew it wasn't just his
stubborn pride, but also his fierce need to protect her that was stopping
him from speaking. There was little of a classified nature to the whole
affair, he couldn't honestly hide behind that excuse. He could reveal a
lot of the truth if he only let himself, but how would that help Sara?
Hadn't she been through enough already?

"What did Daniel tell you?" he asked finally, looking for a way out.

"He told me you were captured, held for over a week in a confined space,"
her voice quivered slightly, "That you got hurt badly. And I know he got
you out, somehow."

"Isn't that enough?" Sara looked at him accusingly. "It's over Sara, it's
not going to happen again. We got all the people behind it, there's noone
left to be any kind of threat. It's done, finished with.

"What about the nightmares? And this problem you're having eating? Jack,
take a good look at yourself, it's not finished with!" Sara pointed out
quietly. "Believe me I know, some scars never heal unless you let them."

"I talked to Daniel. He knows everything that happened," Jack said
defensively.

"And what about the invisible damage, Jack?" Sara asked softly, "Who are
you going to talk to about that?" Jack looked at her in confusion. "Who's
going to share your fears, your terror, your nightmares? Who's going to
share your hopes, Jack? What good is surviving all that if you can't
share it? If noone else knows what you've overcome? Tell me, Jack, what
good is that? How does that help you?"

She paused for a moment, swallowing against the lump in her throat,
hating herself for trying to force him to talk about what he went
through, but she needed to know, to share and understand, at least a
little, before she could commit herself to even so much as spending one
more moment in his arms, no matter how much she ached to hold him. "What
good does it do you to know how terrified you were, when you're unable to
share it with anyone, or show them how you're fighting your fears?"

"I talked to Daniel," Jack murmured again, knowing it was no answer,
knowing that she was right. Nobody knew all of his nightmares, apparently
not even him. They were still emerging now, as if to replace those he had
defused by talking to Daniel three nights and a lifetime ago. Daniel had
the facts now, but even he didn't know everything that had gone through
Jack's mind, the depths he had sunk to. How often he had stared death in
the face and wished it would come closer. Or how desperately afraid he
had been. How could anyone know that? He would barely admit it to
himself. How could he tell anyone else?

Anyone except Sara. She had been through it before with him. No matter
how often he had slept in the yard all those months after returning from
Iraq, Sara had been there for him. Somehow she understood what he had
gone through, perhaps the words had been left unspoken, but she still
knew.

They had been so close for so long, she knew what he had gone through
from the look in his eyes, the tremor in his voice, the talk in his
sleep. She had understood, offered comfort and support whenever he had
needed it, yet she had never pressed him to tell her the truth about what
had happened during his imprisonment. What had changed?

"It was hard enough for me to burden Daniel with everything that
happened, how can I possibly weigh you down with it too?" Jack said at
last, "And why would you even want to know all that?"

Sara hesitated for a moment, knowing there was one selfish reason that
stood out above all her noble ones. "You called my name," her voice was
barely a whisper. A frown of confusion creased Jack's forehead. "When you
were asleep earlier," she explained quietly, "You called out my name. You
were having a nightmare. What was it about?"

"I don't remember," he lied, lowering his gaze, "It could have been
anything."

"It wasn't just anything, Jack. You called out my name," Sara protested
gently, "I want to know why. I need to know why."

"I don't think I can tell you why," he said softly, glancing back up at
her painfully, knowing there were some secrets he would never be able to
share with anybody, some things that were destined to be locked up tight
and buried deep in the hope they would never resurface. "But it doesn't
mean anything. They're not really even nightmares, they're just remnants
of......" he trailed off, struggling to find any words sufficiently
neutral to not worry her further. Jack shrugged helplessly, rubbed a hand
over his eyes and turned to stare out the window into the dark night
beyond.

Sara studied him carefully, hating to see him so lost and defenceless,
wanting to be able to comfort him. "Remnants of what, Jack?" she urged
softly, coming further into the room.

"Just hallucinations, that's all," he whispered hoarsely, his voice
distant, barely audible. "Very bad hallucinations," he added under his
breath, never intending for her to hear. When he finally turned back from
the window, he was shocked to find Sara had moved closer, standing just a
few feet in front of him. She gazed at him, biting her lip against all
the painful images flooding her mind with his words.

"Why?" she asked softly, stepping back to lean against the dresser by the
wall, simply to suppress the urge to sit by his side. "What did they do
to you, to cause hallucinations?" But Jack remained silent, unable to say
the words.

He was staring at the floor, and Sara could see the unfocused look in his
eyes as if he was somewhere else, perhaps trapped inside one of his
nightmares. She put it into words for him, guessing what had most likely
taken place, "What drugs did they give you?"

He didn't respond, but she saw him flinch at the image her question
conjured up in his mind. His silence left her with only one more step she
could possibly take, and it was a dangerous one for them both, because it
was probably their last chance.

Sara stood upright off the dresser and moved towards him slowly. Not yet
willing to risk sitting beside him, instead she stood, placing her hand
lightly under his chin to tilt it towards her, forcing him to look into
her enquiring eyes, to see her words, to draw him back from whatever was
tormenting his mind.

"Jack, what did they give you?"

His dark brown eyes slowly focused on her, clearly surprised to find her
there, causing Sara to again wonder how powerful these images could be to
drag him away from the real world so quickly and effectively.

"Tell me," Sara urged softly, sliding her hand to his cheek, so that he
could not turn away from her gaze. "Please, Jack?"

Finally, he shrugged, speaking at last. "LSD," he said. Trying to make
light of it he added, "Just your regular sixties overblown acid trip,
that's all."

"LSD?" Sara repeated in horrified disbelief, a look of empathy shone in
her eyes. "Injected?" Jack nodded almost imperceptibly, but she saw the
wince he could not quite manage to suppress. "How much?" she asked
faintly, "How much did they give you?"

Jack shrugged. "How should I know?" he said uncomfortably. He was not
enjoying the conversation by any stretch of the imagination and wondered
how it could possibly be helping anything. He lowered his gaze and Sara
practically gave him whiplash, jerking his head back up sharply to face
her. He frowned in annoyance until he saw the look in her eyes, really
saw it for the first time, saw his pain reflected back at him, and he
finally realised that she was already sharing the burden and it was not
going to get any easier on her by him refusing to tell her the truth.

He opened his mouth to speak and her grip on his jaw softened in
response. "I honestly don't know how much it was, I just know it was too
much," he said hoarsely, unable to hide the memories from his voice, the
feeling of helplessness, out of his mind and out of control. "In the end
it knocked me out for a couple of days," he admitted bleakly.

Sara gazed at his downturned eyes for a long moment, absorbing the
implications of his words, then she removed her hand from his face and
turned her back on him. She didn't move away, she simply stood there, one
hand covering her mouth, fingers trembling, trying to fight back the raw
emotion suddenly impacting her head on with the shocking reality of what
had been done to him.

When she spoke her voice was a choked whisper, "I thought LSD was really
dangerous, doesn't it leave you with long term effects?" Jack didn't
answer, there was nothing he could say to deny it. "Come on Jack, any
sixties kid knows these things, you can't hide it from me."

"Doctor Fraiser said it's been known for flashbacks to reoccur," Jack
finally said. He didn't tell her the time delay was anything up to twenty
five years later. Some things were better left unsaid. "But it hardly
matters, I'm used to them now, it'll just be like meeting an old friend!"
he said, trying to make light of it. But apparently, his comment didn't
help. Sara didn't say anything, she didn't turn to face him, she just
stood absolutely still, practically within touching distance if he was
bold enough.

Jack watched the tension in her back painfully, too afraid of her
reaction if he said anymore, not daring to reach out to touch her, not
even to force her to look at him the way she had done. Silence surrounded
them, except for the night sounds creeping in on the gentle breeze
through the open window. Until finally he realised that if ever he was
going to take charge of the situation, perhaps now would be his only
chance.

He stood up off the bed, slowly so that she would not be frightened by
his movement, then he put out his hands and clasped her shoulders gently,
turning her towards him. He was shocked to see tears on her face, his
heart clenching painfully, knowing that he was to blame.

"Sara?" he whispered her name, trying to get her to look at him
willingly, risking placing his fingers lightly on her chin to tilt her
gaze up towards him. This time she didn't pull away, but she lowered her
blue eyes, teardrops catching in her eyelashes and running down her
cheeks. "Please don't cry," he pleaded softly, torn apart to see her this
way, "I'm so sorry." He moved his fingers to wipe away a tear.

"It's not your fault, Jack," Sara murmured tearfully, wiping a trembling
hand across her face in embarrassment, "I shouldn't have pushed you into
telling me if I couldn't take it, should I?" She sniffled slightly,
gulping hard, trying to regain control, "But when I think of you
suffering like that it just tears me apart."

"I should never have told you," Jack berated himself, hating to see her
in distress.

"Yes you should, Jack," Sara finally looked up, gazing at him with watery
blue eyes, "We have to share everything if we're going to make this
work."

He stared at her for a moment, realising the implications in what she was
saying, hoping against hope that he finally had a chance to do something
right. He moved his hands from her shoulders and enfolded her into his
arms, gently, unthreateningly, offering his comfort if she so desired.

Sara slowly sank into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him, her head
resting on his chest, feeling like a fool for being so melodramatic, but
she knew that a lot of it was just tension. She had allowed herself to
get overwrought, applying added pressure with the all or nothing demands
she was making on herself as well as on Jack.

Now she realised they had made a start and that was enough to enable them
to take the next step and then the next and the next and so on. Until
maybe they would be able to regain some of what they had lost so long
ago.

"One step at a time," she whispered softly, tilting her head to regard
Jack with her watery gaze. She smiled slightly, resting against his warm
damp t-shirt, remembering a conversation with Daniel almost a fortnight
ago, when she had told him those exact words, the same thing he had
apparently told Jack.

Jack met her gaze, recognising the words with a smile. "Yeah, one step at
a time," he said softly, "Sounds like good advice to me. How about it?"

Sara nodded against his chest, feeling like they had come full circle to
a new beginning.

                         *******************

Eventually, Jack pulled Sara down to sit on the bed behind them, lifting
his arms away from her so that she could escape if she wanted to, but she
stayed with him, still wrapped tightly round him as if she was afraid to
let go. She sat down beside him on the edge of the mattress and he placed
his arms back around her, enveloping her warmly, happy to finally return
some of the comfort and support she had given him over the years, even if
it was him that had caused her distress in the first place.

It was a long time before Sara finally moved, she felt so safe and secure
in Jack's arms that she was reluctant to do anything to endanger that
feeling, but there was something she had to know, something that was
plaguing her. An answer that had to be obtained before she would be ready
to make the next move, a step that was lingering, heated and vibrant,
requiring desperate fulfilment if she were to stay in his arms much
longer.

She chewed her lip nervously, glancing up timidly to find his liquid
brown eyes gazing down at her, watching over her protectively. She
swallowed at the surge of feeling the look of love in his eyes stirred
within her. "Jack, what happened to your side?" she whispered hesitantly,
waiting for his shoulders to tense beneath her hands, still wrapped
tightly around him.

But he remained relaxed, knowing that she needed him to tell her as much
as he could, it would just require some extremely tactful phrasing.
Besides, it didn't seem likely that anything else could possibly have as
bad an impact as his initial confession. "The rib that I originally
fractured got broken last week," he admitted. "It needed surgery and some
pins to fix up, but it's healing fine, so long as I don't do anything
stupid," he smiled reassuringly, unable to avoid the temptation to
tenderly press his lips against her forehead in a soft kiss.

"How?" Sara asked simply. Jack's face showed that he did not understand
her question. "How did it get broken?"

"Oh, um........Daniel and I got into a little trouble," Jack said,
figuring Sara wouldn't be quite so concerned about him if he distracted
her with Daniel's involvement. "These people were originally after
Daniel, I just got in the way. They didn't like that Daniel foiled them
and we had another little run in with them last week, nothing major.
Besides we got all of them, Sara, locked up tight. It was worth a broken
rib to achieve that," he added lightly.

Sara regarded him closely, nagging thoughts finally clicking into place,
the new bruise on his chin, the kidney damage he had mentioned on
Thursday evening and all the other livid colour across his chest that she
had seen earlier. She knew he would never admit as much, but he had
obviously been involved in an horrendous fight, apparently badly beaten.
At least now she knew the truth, some of it.

She knew there were still things that Jack wasn't telling her, but it was
a start. There were ways of getting more information if she wanted to,
wily methods that he wouldn't even notice. She was a woman after all!

Nodding acceptance at his words, she asked with genuine concern, "What
about Daniel? Is he okay?" They may only have met briefly, but she had
quickly grown to like the man. From their short conversation, and for
what he had done to help Jack, Sara knew that she owed Daniel a great
deal.

"He's fine, good as new. In fact he's off back to Luxor on Monday with
Captain Carter," Jack said with a grin, knowing he would miss his friend,
but positive that the trip would be a lot less eventful this time.
Besides they would only be gone for a week and the look of excitement on
Daniel's face when Hammond had given his permission, on Jack's
recommendation, had been worth waiting for. It had been the assurance
Jack needed that things really were back to normal, for Daniel at least.

"Egypt?" Sara's quiet question cut into his thoughts and Jack realised he
had unwittingly revealed something she didn't necessarily need to know.
"Is that where this happened?"

He nodded cautiously, "Originally."

"But why would the Egyptians want to get hold of Daniel?" she asked, a
puzzled frown creasing her tearstained face.

"They didn't," Jack realised he had no choice but to explain further,
"The Egyptians weren't behind this."

"Then who was? And why?" She pulled away slightly to look at him
properly, studying his face for any indication that he was hiding
something.

Jack decided her second question was much easier to answer, "Money.
That's all it was about."

Sara stared at him for a long moment, processing what he had and had not
said, coming up with an explanation of her own, the only logical one she
could think of. "American," she said softly, tentatively. "They were
American." She shook her head in disbelief. His eyes did not deny her
words, "Our own people did this to you?"

Jack regarded her uncomfortably. "It wasn't just Americans," he shrugged,
trying to make light of it, "I guess you could call it a multinational
affair."

"Oh, Jack!" Sara exclaimed miserably, renewed tears shining in her eyes
as she thought of the injustice of it all.

"Hey, come on now," Jack said softly. His hands moved to her shoulders,
lifting her off his chest to look at him. He gently placed a finger below
her chin and tilted her gaze to meet his. "It's okay, look," he sat back
with open arms and a smile that showed he was here in one piece, wasn't
he. "It was just greed, Sara. Nobody is immune to that, no matter what we
do for a living, sooner or later innocent people get sucked into it. The
trick is surviving, and it was because of what we do that Daniel and I
both managed it."

She regarded him dubiously and Jack caught a single tear trailing down
her cheek with his knuckle. He leaned down to touch his lips to her face,
tenderly kissing away the salty tears filling her eyes and staining her
pale skin. He pressed a soft kiss to the mole on her cheek, his hands
moving down her back to encircle her lovingly.

His brown eyes met her watery spellbound gaze and he moved in with a
rakish grin to plant a kiss onto the end of her nose, realising just how
much he had missed its delightful shape and the way her cheeks dimpled
when she smiled. He kissed them next, then her chin and finally, unable
to resist their temptation any longer, he placed his lips over hers. A
soft, delicate touch, a promise of things to come if she so desired, and
Jack suddenly knew that his life was in her hands now, and quite
probably, forever.

He pulled back at that thought, finding himself holding his breath,
waiting to see what she would do, whether she would decide to stay with
him. So unsure of the outcome that he didn't dare to hope or dream.

Sara gazed at him, her eyes examining his face as he blinked at her
ingenuously. Her hand reached up to trace a circle around the fading
black bruise on his chin. Her fingers trailed up his cheek to reach the
scar on his left temple which was slowly becoming a thin white blemish on
his skin, soon it would be barely visible to anyone who did not know it
was there.

She paused thoughtfully, then she moved in closer, pressing her lips
against the mark on his chin. She shifted on the bed, turning to reach up
to his forehead to kiss his damaged temple. Moving back downwards, she
placed baby soft kisses on his eyelids, his high cheekbones, which still
stood out a little too prominently. Then to his nose, playfully rubbing
hers against his as she settled her lips over his mouth in a tentative
kiss.

Jack responded gently, absorbing every moment of contact, holding back
his urge to take Sara in his arms and deepen the kiss until they were
breathless. He did not want to make any moves that might still scare her
off, instead resolving to let Sara control the situation for as long as
she needed to.

Drawing away from his lips, she regarded him wordlessly, a slow smile
that he could not read, dimpling her features. Disappointed by the loss
of contact, Jack waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.

Sara's hands moved down to his waist, toying with the bottom of his t-
shirt, still hanging loosely where she had untucked it earlier.
Gradually, she began to raise the soft white material, her eyes holding
his gaze, her fingers sliding up inside to brush against his smooth skin,
sending a shiver down his spine at her delicate touch.

She shifted on the edge of the bed, moving to kneel beside him as she
lifted her hands higher, slowly pulling the cotton shirt from his body.
Her mouth widened into a pleased smile when Jack raised his arms
obediently so she could pull it over his head. He shivered again as she
let her fingers run the length of his inner arms, wickedly tickling all
the way up.

Clear of his body, Sara tossed the clothing onto the bed and turned to
look at him. She grinned at the way his hair was sticking up every which
way where the neck of his t-shirt had dragged against it. She reached
across to smooth it into place, stroking her hands slowly through the
soft grey and brown strands and working around to brush down stubborn
tufts at the back of his head.

Her sensuous fingers trailed down to the nape of his neck, inexorably
closing in on his ears, playing with the lobes before dropping to his
shoulders and tracing the line of his collar bone. Her eyes followed one
hand, until they reached his chin and she shifted her gaze back to meet
his, finding him staring at her silently, almost bashfully as he watched
her in his half naked state, completely under her spell.

Sara stroked an index finger across his lips and he moved to lightly kiss
it. Her hand drifted down to rest on his chest, her fingers tangling in
the soft smattering of hair as she leaned in to kiss him again. Her mouth
met his in a whisper of breath, tantalisingly brief, before she moved on,
working her way around to his back. Her hand followed, trailing up his
chest and coming to rest on his shoulder to stop him from turning towards
her.

Sitting back on her heels, Sara ran her gaze over Jack's strong muscular
frame, examining his body for any signs of recent damage. The fingers of
her other hand traced a slow line down his spine, raising goosebumps in
their wake. Her eyes followed their progress, reaching the base of his
back where she saw the expanse of abnormal colour, now beginning to fade
brown and yellow. It had obviously been the source of his bruised kidney
as well as a fair amount of pain judging by the dark shading and the size
of the area it spread over, disappearing beneath the waist of his jeans
and matching the black material far too closely in places.

Sara bit her lip against the renewed surge of emotion that threatened to
sidetrack her. Instead she leaned in close and placed baby soft kisses on
his shoulder blades, slowly lowering her head to work her way down the
warm smooth skin of his back. He shivered deliciously beneath her touch,
automatically tilting forward as she moved downwards, enabling her soft
red lips to easily reach the lowest bruises above the belt of his jeans.

Her hands caressed him, his skin quivering beneath her warm breathy
kisses. She began to work her way back up his body, her blonde hair
tickling his spine as she moved higher. Slowly, gently, she wrapped her
hands around his shoulders, letting her fingers drift downwards as she
pressed her body against his, encircling him, enfolding his warmth in her
arms.

Sara's long slim fingers slid down into the soft light hairs on his
chest, stroking the muscles of his abdomen as they moved lower, careful
to avoid the more severe damage of his left side. She placed soft kisses
on his shoulders, blowing on the fine hair at the nape of his neck until
he shivered again, gradually working round until her lips found a new
target and began nibbling on his left earlobe.

Her hands continued to drift downwards, reaching the waist of his jeans.
"No fair," Jack whispered huskily, his eyes closing as he tilted back
against her body, savouring her tantalisingly slow ministrations, but
wondering how long he could possibly keep control of his urges.

He wanted to take over, to set them both free from the confines of their
clothing. To smother Sara with kisses and let his hands caress her body.
He wanted to make love with her until they were both spent, sated and
exhausted. But he also wanted so much more, he wanted her happiness, her
comfort and support, and he wanted her company. If letting Sara maintain
control for as long as she needed would help give him any of that, then
so be it. Jack knew that eventually his chance would come, he just had to
be patient, to sit back and enjoy every long drawn out pleasure filled
second.

Sara moved against him again, sliding around to his left. She unclasped
his shoulders to kneel by his side, examining his bruised chest and
damaged ribs with a critical eye.

Gently she placed her hands against the top of his arms and nudged him
backwards, urging him to lie down on the soft quilt. He did as he was
told and she let him move higher up the mattress so that he didn't simply
slide off the edge of the bed. He studied her with dark eyes, heavy with
desire as Sara filled her view with the sight of his battered torso.

Forcing herself to accept the fact of his injuries, she set about kissing
them better. A long and arduous task, she thought with a sly smile as she
began just below his collar bone. Painstakingly seeking out each bruise,
recent or faded, she pressed her soft lips against them tenderly,
breathing on his skin and nuzzling against the fine hair on his chest to
leave a trail of fire and goosebumps across his long slim body.

When she reached his lower right side, she stopped, sitting up slightly
to lift his right hand. She looked at Jack, seeking his permission for
her next action. He blinked at her, understanding passing between them.
Sara turned back to his hand and gently pulled at the Velcro fastening on
his wrist. Gingerly she eased off the strap supporting and protecting his
hand, needing to see his fingers for herself.

Free at last, Jack wiggled his fingertips about an inch back and forth,
feeling the pull on the stiffened tendons as he demonstrated the movement
that was returning slowly but surely to his hand. Sara smiled softly,
pleased at the increasing flexibility, certain that they already moved
further than she had seen them at the diner just the previous evening.

Delicately, she touched her lips to the back of his hand, kissing
lightly, working her way along the long slim digits. When she reached his
fingertips, she pressed baby soft kisses against them, before giving into
temptation and drawing his index finger into her mouth seductively,
tasting it, sucking it.

Eventually, she released his hand with a satisfied smile and he dragged
his damp fingernail across her kiss swollen lips. Letting his hand drift
down her neck, before he slowly lowered it to the bed and she backed away
to return her attention to his torso.

Gradually she worked across his stomach and abdomen, until the only
remaining unkissed damage was that on his left side. As she regarded it
closely, tears pricked her eyelids once more, unable to stop herself from
imagining the pain and hurt that had been inflicted upon him with that
terrible injury. She bent her head down to press her lips onto the still
pink surgical scar, before smothering the remaining huge blackened bruise
with kisses so delicate, that to Jack they felt like a whisper of warm
air against his ribs.

Sara lifted her head once more and reached out to touch the scar with a
trembling fingertip. Jack felt her trace a pattern around the circle of
bruising in a way that brought a sudden vivid memory to the forefront of
his mind. He shuddered involuntarily at the image, unable to quash the
terrifying recollection of blind helplessness as his attacker had sized
up his already damaged ribs, examining the bruised area before smashing a
fist into the centre to break them completely. Jack vaguely remembered
the awful crack that had cut through the silence before the most
excruciating wave of pain he had ever been subjected to made him pass out
lifelessly.

Detecting the tension in his reaction, Sara glanced across at him to see
a flash of fear pass over his eyes like a shadow, his face going slightly
pale beneath his flushed cheeks. She understood what he was thinking
about immediately and pulled her hand away rapidly, studying him for
awhile before she finally spoke. "Punch or kick?" she asked quietly,
unsure why she could possibly want to know something like that and
wondering if she had badly overstepped the boundaries this time.

For a long moment, Jack didn't answer her, closing his eyes tightly to
push away the memory. He gulped painfully, afraid to tell her the truth,
but even more scared of what might happen if he did not. "Both," he
eventually admitted, his voice barely audible. Sara gazed at him, her
head tilted to one side, a frown creasing her forehead, until Jack was
ready to explain. "A kick fractured it originally, then a punch broke
it," he swallowed hard against the fresh images in his mind.

Jack felt the mattress move as Sara shifted position, leaning down to
touch her lips to his mouth in a gentle kiss. She placed her hands on the
quilt either side of his head and dipped lower to deepen the contact,
pressing against him ardently, pushing her tongue between his teeth to
tangle with his, tasting his hot breath mixing with her own.

Responding eagerly, Jack willingly let the sensations she was provoking
overpower all cognisant thought, realising that perhaps he had finally
found a successful method of fighting back the memories. He smiled
slightly against Sara's mouth, wondering how she would feel if he told
her that.

A drop of liquid suddenly hit his cheek and Jack eyes flickered open, his
hand reaching to Sara's face to catch the next tear that slid down her
pale skin. He edged away from her kiss and ran his fingers tenderly down
her jaw, cupping a hand to her cheek. She leaned into it, nuzzling, her
eyes closed, tears caught in her long eyelashes.

"Sara?" Jack urged softly, needing her to look at him, "Hey?" Timidly she
blinked at him, her watery gaze tugging at his heart. "You know I'll
shrink if you keep crying all over me like this," he said gently.

She smiled feebly. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, about to offer an
explanation, when Jack pressed a finger to her lips to quieten her.

"It's okay, hush. It's not a problem." Jack frowned at her slightly,
"Sara, I just want to see you happy, but I'm worried you never will be
with me around to upset you like this."

Somehow, Jack's words prompted even more tears and he sat up gingerly,
pulling her into a hug. "I am happy," Sara sniffled against him, her
tears dampening his chest.

Jack couldn't hold back a soft laugh. "You could have fooled me," he
murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head tenderly. "Are you
sure?" he added quizzically.

Sara nodded against him. "Positive!" she said with an emphatic whisper,
finally lifting her head back up to gaze at him, "I love you Jack. I
never stopped loving you or wanting you." She lowered her eyes
hesitantly, "And I know we haven't exactly thrashed out everything about
why I left, but somehow you've changed since then. I don't quite know
how, I can't explain it, but you're different. You're more like your old
self, like you were when we were a family. That's why I'm happy. And
that's why I'm crying. Not just because of what's been done to you, but
because I'm wondering how much we've missed by being apart for too long."
She paused for breath and Jack placed a hand under her chin, tipping her
head up to meet his gaze.

"I love you too Sara. I always have," he said, his voice thick with
emotion. "And all this," he gestured with his right hand, "All this was
worth it if it's brought us back together. Believe me, none of this was
nearly as painful as losing you," he added quietly. His left arm wrapped
round her even tighter at the sudden memory of finding her gone, out of
his life, three years earlier.

Finally he studied her closely, a sly smile playing on his lips, "Now how
about we make up for some of that lost time?" Sara's smile matched his as
he pulled her towards him, pressing his mouth against hers eagerly, their
jaws flexing and moving in time, kissing until they were both breathless,
their tongues tangling until they ached.

                         *******************

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