PG. Sam/Jack, S10 team. Post-Line in the Sand. For the Carnival of Squee Take Back the Glee Commentficathon, to the prompt “daisies.”
Disclaimer: These people do not belong to me and I am not making any money off them.
Sam was dreaming about naquadah reactors when someone shook her shoulder.
“Sam.”
“Wakey wakey, Samantha.”
She blinked and saw Cameron and Vala, out of focus in the semi-dark of the infirmary, their faces close to hers.
“What’s going on?” she asked groggily. “What time is it?”
“Shh,” Cam said. “It’s late.”
“We’re busting you out,” Vala said.
“You are?” This was the best news she’d had since they’d brought her back from P9C-882 on a stretcher a week ago.
“Shh,” Cam said again. Vala helped her sit up, supporting her back. Her left side still hurt like hell from the prior’s blast, the stitches pulling as she flexed her torn muscles.
“I’m not sure I can walk,” she said.
Vala moved aside, and Sam saw Teal’c in the shadows behind her, holding a wheelchair. He said, “We have come prepared, Colonel Carter.”
“Perfect,” Sam said.
They helped her into the chair and wheeled her silently out of the infirmary, into the elevator, and to … Level 15?
“Wait, you’re busting me out to my quarters?”
“Yep,” Cam said.
And then, as soon as they had her inside, still sitting in the wheelchair, they left. What the hell?
“Wait, Teal’c! Cam!”
“You’ll thank us in a few minutes,” Vala said, waving from the doorway. The door fell shut behind her and Sam heard the lock click into place.
She was going to kill them. All three of them. Slowly. She started wheeling herself toward the phone, but her way was blocked by a light filling the room. A very white, very familiar light.
“Jack!”
He was facing the wrong way, wearing wrinkled dress blues, with a small handful of flowers behind his back. “Carter?” He turned around, relief washing over his face when he saw her, and handed her the wilted bouquet. It looked like it had been stolen from a centerpiece. “Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,” he said.
“You’re supposed to be in Vladivostok!” Exactly where he had been for the past two weeks, for yet another IOA negotiation. He’d only been able to squeeze in a few phone calls.
“I am in Vladivostok. Little favor.” He pointed to the ceiling. “I can’t let anyone official know I’ve skipped town.”
“I won’t tell,” she said as he bent down to kiss her.
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