Sam woke to the sound of the phone ringing. It was late, after noon, she guessed, and she was alone. Picking up the phone she spotted a note propped up against the pillow Jonas had used.

"Hello?" she asked, starting to read the note, paying little attention to who was on the line until she realized it was her father.

"Sam? Did you forget our appointment?" Sam racked her brain. What appointment did she have with her father? They were going to meet for lunch and discuss the possibility of visiting Mark. Slapping her forehead, she realized she'd completely forgotten. Sam glance at the clock, noticing it was going on 1300.

"Um, I'm sorry, Dad. I'm not feeling good," she lied. Quite the opposite, really, she couldn't remember when she'd felt better.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Kid. You should have called."

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, searching for an excuse. "I was sleeping. I guess this really knocked me for a loop," she said. Well, it wasn't a *total* lie.

"I used to feel kind of out of it when I returned from a long mission too, remember?"

"Yeah. I'm sure that's all it is. Can we do this tomorrow?" Sam heard Jacob sigh.

"I suppose. I was hoping we might do this later if you were feeling up to it."

"I think tomorrow would be better, Dad."

"All right," he agreed. "But we don't have a lot of time to work with here."

"I know. We'll get together tomorrow, I promise."

"Hope you feel better, Kiddo."

"Thanks, Dad. Bye." Sam couldn't hang up the phone fast enough so she could concentrate on the note Jonas left her. Unfolding the paper she was surprised at his neat handwriting. For some reason she assumed he'd have a messy scrawl she'd spend an hour deciphering.

Sam, I didn't want to wake you, but I had to meet with my C.O. Hopefully I'll get reinstated today! If you're not busy tonight, I'd like to see you. Call me later? Jonas.

Sam clutched the note to her chest, flopping back onto her bed. She couldn't believe how giddy she felt. She was too old for this kind of thing, wasn't she? Isn't this something she should have been experiencing in high school? Well, since she hadn't had the opportunity then, what was wrong with indulging in it now?

After their less-than-stellar meeting, Sam was surprised at what a sensitive lover Jonas turned out to be. Although she didn't have much to compare him to, he'd certainly made it to the top of her list of favorites. Oh, she wasn't deluding herself into thinking Jonas was perfect. He was far from it, but she didn't think he was as bad as her father had made him out to be. Perhaps if he got to know him a little better. . . .

"Bad idea," she said, sliding over to the edge of the bed and standing. "I think this can remain Sam's little secret for now," she spoke aloud. After all, how far could things go in eleven days?

*********

Sam picked up the phone, dialing the number Jonas had left for the third time. Where the hell was he? He told her he didn't have any other business to attend to after his meeting and it was now getting late. Maybe he'd changed his mind about seeing her and just wasn't answering his phone.

*Well, fine!* Sam thought. Maybe he was more like the other men she'd known after all! He got a good screw out of her and now it was on to greener pastures. She was about to slam the phone down when someone picked up on the other end with a breathless,

"Hello?"

"Jonas?"

"Sam? Oh, God. I was hoping you'd call!" His voice sounded slurred, and she didn't have to see him to know he was drunk or fast on his way. What the hell could have happened today?

"I've been trying for sometime," she said, wondering why she was angry. It wasn't like they'd had a specific date or anything.

"I just got back. I was out 'celebrating,'" he said with a bitter laugh.

"Celebrating? What happened?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. You are coming over, right?" His voice sounded almost desperate.

"I don't know, you sound like you're half in the bag. I really don't need a repeat performance of the other night."

"Please, Sam. I really need to see you." It was his using her name that clinched it. It was probably a big mistake, but she couldn't just leave him when he sounded so upset.

"Okay," she sighed. "I'll be over in a few minutes." Hanging up the phone she shook her head. "At least *try* to keep some perspective," she told herself as she headed out the door.

***

Sam had barely knocked when she found herself being dragged into Jonas' house and on the receiving end of a passionate kiss. Tasting the alcohol on his tongue, Sam pushed him away.

"How much have you been drinking?"

"Not much, really," he said trying to draw her into his arms again, but Sam walked past him.

"Obviously enough," she said, turning to face him. "Jonas, what happened? This morning things couldn't have been better. Now. . . now I don't know what."

"I was celebrating my 'retirement,'" he said with a sigh, slumping into the same kitchen chair he'd occupied the other night. Following his lead, Sam slid into the chair next to him.

"Retirement? What are you talking about?"

"I'm through, Sam. Finished. Washed up. Out of the Corp. Unfit to fly." Jonas lay his head down on the crossed arms he'd rested on the table.

"Jonas, this doesn't make any sense! Your flight test went fine!"

"Ah, but my psych test didn't," he said, sitting up again, looking her straight in the eye. "Not enough to be discharged, but enough so I can't fly."

Sam stared at him, unsure of what to say. Finally she reached over and took his hand. "Flying isn't everything, you know."

"Oh, sure, you can say that because you have the choice! You told me last night how hard it was going to be for you to give up flying to pursue your scientific interests, but you still have the *option!*" he argued.

"Is this permanent?" she asked. "No chance you're ever going to be allowed to fly?"

"Oh, I suppose eventually if my head is shrunk enough they might give me another chance, but I don't see that happening," he said. Jonas stood and crossed over to the refrigerator, retrieving a can of beer.

"Want one?" he offered.

"No, and I don't think you do either."

"You're wrong about that. I definitely need another." Opening the can, Jonas swallowed half the contents in one gulp. "You know what my C.O. had the gall to say? He said I should 'hang in there,' that this wasn't the end. He said, 'the Air Force has spent a lot of time and money on your training, and we don't like to lose.'"

Sam moved to stand in front of him. "See! Jonas! Give yourself some time! For Christ's sake, no one expects you to get over this like it's nothing! You lost your team, your friends. It's going to take some time to heal!"

"Thanks for reminding me," he said, finishing off the can. He was reaching for another when Sam stopped him.

"Please don't have another one," she said placing her hand over the one he had on the handle of the refrigerator.

"One night together and already you think you can dictate to me how much I drink?"

Sam tried to remember he was more than half-way to being drunk and probably didn't mean the words he threw at her. That didn't mean they didn't hurt. She knew all too well the next words from his mouth were going to be an apology. Wasn't it the same pattern her father used to follow when he'd had too much?

"Look, Sam, I'm sorry," he said reaching out to touch her face. Damn she hated it when she was right! Why couldn't he continue to be an asshole so she could get mad and storm out of his house? Leave him to drown his sorrows in the rest of his twelve-pack? "It's just so hard to think I might never get to fly again," he said, his voice sounding almost like a choked sob.

Taking him into her arms, Sam held him tightly. "I know," she soothed, wondering how self-conscious he was going to be over this confession. She stood there for a few minutes before pulling back slightly. "You know this is going to look better tomorrow, don't you?"

"I don't know about that," he said, clearing his throat. "Of course there's one way it could look better."

"Oh? What's that?"

"If I wake up and you're here," he said, almost shyly.

Sam smiled. "Well, as long as I don't have to sleep on that horrible couch again you've got a deal."

*********

Sam was surprised how quickly the rest of her time at Eglin went. Between visiting with her father and spending every moment she could with Jonas, the two weeks flew by. She still hadn't mentioned seeing Jonas to Jacob. She'd come to have a bit of a truce with her father, and she didn't want to upset the fragile rapport they'd established. For the first time in her life he was treating her like an adult and she knew he'd be reprimanding her like a teenager if he knew about Jonas.

What surprised her most was Jacob's lack of vocalization on the subject of Philip. Maybe Jonas had been right and he hadn't mentioned the disastrous date. As for Jonas, he'd seriously entered therapy, and Sam wondered how much was his actual desire for help or his desire to appease her. She hadn't nagged him on it, but there was no doubt she expected him to do something to help himself. In a way, his attempt was more of an assurance of his feelings for her than any late night confessions of affection. She only hoped once she was in Colorado he wouldn't quit his sessions.

That wasn't the only thing she was concerned about when she left. What was going to happen to them when she left? Would she hear from him again? Or would he end up just being a bonus on her leave? She knew she didn't want to lose touch with him, but what about Jonas?

It was her last day at Eglin and Jacob insisted they have dinner together at his house. What she really wanted was to be with Jonas, but she couldn't stand her father up on her last night. She would just have to see him afterward.

Washing the dishes, Sam was surprised to see Jacob pick up a dish towel and start drying.

"You feeling okay, Dad?" she teased.

"You did most of the work," he said, picking up a plate, swiping white cotton over it's surface. "I invite you to dinner, and you end up making our meal."

"You know I don't mind," Sam said dipping her hands into the soapy water and retrieving a glass. "I guess my cooking skills haven't improved while I've been gone."

"You can't be the best at everything you know," her father smiled.

"No, but I can try."

"You know, that's always been your problem," he said taking a bowl from the draining rack.

"Wanting to be the best? I don't see that as a character flaw," she said.

"There's nothing wrong in striving to be the best, Sammie, but there comes a point where you have to know when to step back and admit you can't do everything."

Sam shook the soap from her hands, facing Jacob. "Dad, I never thought I'd hear you say something like that! What did you tell Mark and I when we were growing up? We were Carters, and Carters never quit!"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't give your all, Sam, but you have to realize you can't fix everything, no matter how hard you try."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said, being purposely obtuse.

"Yes you do. After you mother died you gave up doing what *you* wanted. You sacrificed your happiness to make sure Mark and I were okay. Well, what about you? When do you start looking out for you?"

"I am looking out for me, Dad! I'm in the Air Force, I'm working on getting into NASA, things are great!"

"And how much of joining the Air Force was your idea, and how much of it was to please me? I'm not stupid, Sam. I know I wasn't the ideal parent. Far from it. Hell, I doubt I'll ever say or do the right thing where you kids are concerned, but I do try. I hope you didn't join up just because you felt someone in the family had to carry on the tradition."

"Dad, we had this conversation when I enlisted. This was how I was raised! It's not like I was getting into something I didn't understand!"

Jacob put the damp towel on the counter and started putting dishes away. "I realize that, but what I want to know, is how much of it was your desire for a career and how much of it was a bid for some attention from me."

Sam was silent, looking at the floor. After a moment she said, "you know how I've always wanted to be part of the space program."

Jacob sighed and faced his daughter. "And you know I'm proud of you, Sam. But I would have been proud of you if you'd taken the lowest-level civilian job you could find if you were happy."

Sam looked up at her father, but now he was the one looking away. He was proud of her? She'd hoped he was, but other than his overt display at the party, he'd never said the words. And she'd always assumed it was only her accomplishments in the military he'd chose to acknowledge.

"Dad, I don't know what to say."

Jacob cleared his throat. "That's why we don't have these little heart-to-hearts. I'm going to miss you," he said, pulling her into a hug. Sam was even more shocked. Her father wasn't the hugging type. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time he'd embraced her.

The back of her throat began to itch as she fought not to cry. "I'm going to miss you, too."

Jacob pulled back, flustered at his show of emotion. "You sure you have to go now? We could watch some TV or something."

"I really should go. I haven't packed yet, and I want to get a good night's sleep. I doubt I'll sleep much on the flight to Colorado."

"You're right. Well, I'm glad you came over. If nothing else so you had a chance to work on your cooking skills! I just wish Mark would have been able to come," he sighed. "You know, I would think he could put aside his differences toward me to see you."

"You forget, I sided with the 'enemy,' so I'm not high on his list either."

"It's just not right," Jacob said, shaking his head.

"No, it's not, but maybe he'll see that someday." Looking around her father's sparsely furnished living room, Sam felt slightly guilty about leaving him alone. Jonas was waiting for her, and if she was honest, she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could.

"I really have to go, Dad."

"I know. I'll drive you to the airport tomorrow?"

"That would be great. Bye." Sam kissed him on the cheek, departing quickly before she got emotional herself. She'd never felt this close to her father, and was surprised she was actually going to miss him when she left. Maybe they'd come to have the 'normal' family life she'd always dreamed of after all.

*********

Jonas was waiting for Sam on her bed when she returned to her quarters.

"How did you get in here?" she asked, dropping her keys onto the dresser.

"I have my ways," he smiled, getting to his feet to give her a hug.

"And what if my father had brought me home?"

"Then I'd be hiding under the bed right now!"

Sam laughed, hugging him back. "You probably would be, too. Jonas, you know why I haven't said anything to my father about us seeing each other. I'm really not hiding you. I'd just as soon not get into it with him about my seeing anybody, right now. He'd give me this lecture on getting involved with someone when I'm going away. Even though it's what he was doing with Philip. He's got kind of a warped sense of what's right when it comes to me."

Jonas dragged her over to the bed, pushing her onto it as he leapt beside her. "And *are* we involved?" he asked, moving his mouth to whisper in her ear. The feel of his breath on her neck was sending shivers down her spine.

"You tell me," she said, in equally hushed tones.

Jonas leaned over to kiss her. "Oh, yeah."

Sam kissed him back, winding her fingers in his hair when suddenly she pushed him away. "Let's go for a walk."

"You were just on a walk from your father's," Jonas protested.

"Yeah, but I want to go to the beach one more time. The only water I'm going to see for a while is going to be a swimming pool." Sam was already on her feet, grabbing her jacket before Jonas could dissuade her.

"Okay, but we're taking this," he said, pulling a blanket off her bed.

Sam's eyes sparkled. "I like the way you think, Captain Hansen."

***

It wasn't late, but the beach was deserted which suited Sam just fine. Her hand was entwined with Jonas' as they walked in silence, close to the surf. She'd taken her shoes off, and occasionally a wave would break over her feet, pulling the sand out from under her. That's how Jonas made her feel, she realized. Just when she thought she was on solid ground, he'd come washing into her life, sweeping away some of her foundations, making her feel unstable. Not that it was a bad thing; she could do with a few surprises, and he'd certainly provided them.

"How come you're so quiet?" Jonas asked. "I thought you'd be blathering on about going to your new assignment."

"I don't 'blather,'" she smiled, knowing she *did* have a tendency to go on a bit when she was excited by something.

"Still, I didn't expect you to be so 'reserved.'"

Sam stopped and faced him. "I guess I'm wondering what happens next. With us." She forced herself to look up into his eyes.

Jonas smiled, pushing a few strands of errant hair out of her face. "You mean are we going to see each other again?"

Swallowing, Sam managed a, "yes."

Jonas pulled her into a hug. "You think moving half-way across the country is going to stop me from seeing you? I guess you don't know me very well after all."

"I think that's the problem," she said. "I don't."

"I suppose that's something we're going to have to work on, isn't it? Besides, there's no law saying I can't put in for a transfer."

Sam stepped away from him. It was hard to see his face due to the lack of light. He *sounded* sincere. "You'd do that for me?"

"Actually, I'd be doing it for me." This time she could tell he was smiling by the tone of his voice.

Wrapping her arms around him she said, "I'd like that."

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her inland a bit. Sitting on the sand, he drew her down to sit before him, her back resting against his chest. Jonas wound the blanket around them and Sam felt as if she was in a cocoon.

Sighing, she lay her head back against his shoulder. "This is nice," she said as his arms tightened around her.

"I wish you weren't going tomorrow," he whispered, kissing her ear. She smiled at the tickling sensation, then sobered.

"Me too. But I am anxious to start my new assignment. As much as I've enjoyed my leave here, it's time to get back to work. And to my studies if I ever want those letters behind my name."

"I have no doubt you'll do it in record time," he said, moving his lips lower to kiss her neck.

"Speaking of 'record time,'" she smiled, sitting up, pushing him away, "is your express purpose in life to get me into bed?"

Jonas pretended to think. "Lately? Yes."

Sam laughed and allowed him to wrap the blanket around them again. "It's nice to have goals!"

"On the subject of 'goals,' I've been thinking about what I'm going to do now that I can't fly."

"Jonas. . ." Sam started to protest.

"Hear me out," he said, placing his hand over her mouth, removing it when she lightly bit his finger. "All right! I get the hint, but just listen, okay?"

Sam sighed. "Go ahead."

"I'm not going to give up my counseling, but I can't live on the hope I may be reinstated one day. So. . . . I've looked into Special Forces. Maybe Black Ops."

"Black Ops?!" she cried. "But that's so dangerous! Jonas, I'm sure there's. . ."

"Hey, my turn here, remember?"

She slumped against him, waiting for him to continue. "Sam, the Marines may be looking for 'a few good men,' but Special Forces is looking for a few good nuts."

"Jonas! You're not crazy! Slight emotional problems don't mean you're wacko!"

"If nothing else, the pay is great," he shrugged.

"And if you're dead, how are you going to spend it?"

"I'll list you as my 'next of kin.' You can spend it."

Sam struggled to get out of his embrace. "That's not funny, Jonas!" He held on tight and for a moment Sam panicked, causing her to fight him even more. "Let me go!"

"No, Sam, I'm not letting you go. I told you that earlier. You're going to have to try harder than that to get rid of me." Jonas relaxed his grip and Sam settled down.

"I just don't want you doing anything stupid," she said, feeling tears start to well up. "I know the reputation those guys have and I don't want to see you end up like them. Promise me you'll think about this some more before you actually do it?"

Kissing the top of her head, Jonas said, "I promise. We don't have much time left, so let's not fight, okay?"

Sam turned in his arms so she was facing him. "I thought that was the girl's line."

"Hey, it's the Nineties. I can do the 'sensitive guy' thing," he smiled.

Sam pushed him back against the sand, kissing him soundly. "Yeah, you can."

*********

Sam sat on the plane, willing herself not to cry. Her father was still being so considerate to her, she was tempted to ask if he'd been taken over by an alien. He bid her a quick good-bye, claiming that long partings were not the way of the military. She smiled at the thought Jacob had to leave before he became emotional.

Smoothing down the skirt of her dress uniform, reminded Sam of Jonas. How the last time she'd worn the outfit had been the night they'd met. So much had happened in the course of two weeks, it could have been a year. She was amazed the dry cleaners had managed to reshape her uniform so it actually looked decent. Fussing with the material kept Sam from thinking too much about her parting with Jonas earlier that morning.

They'd left the beach before things could get too out of hand, but once they'd made it back to his house, they made up for lost time, and the time they would be parted. She told her father she needed to get home to get a good night's sleep, and she was surprised he didn't comment on how tired she looked. Well, she *had* been in bed, she just didn't get a whole lot of rest.

Arriving at Eglin, she had no idea her parting would be so bittersweet. Actually, she was glad she and Jonas had said their good-byes in the wee hours of the morning before she returned to her quarters. Saying farewell in the airport would have been her undoing. It was hard enough when he casually kissed her and wished her good luck, as if she were going off to a job interview.

The flight attendant was going through her required speech as Sam buckled her seat belt. Opening up the folder she'd brought with her, she began to study the layout of Peterson Air Force Base. She'd been there while she'd attended the Air Force Academy, but she wanted to refamiliarize herself with the base. She liked Colorado Springs. Of all the places she'd lived, it was one of her favorites. Plus, the University of Colorado was a good place to finish her doctorate work. She just hoped all her credits transferred.

Thinking about her academic pursuits brought Jonas to mind once more. How he teased her saying it wasn't right she should be smarter than him. Sometimes she wondered if that was why she met so few men willing to date her. Theoretical astrophysics was a male-dominated field, but her fellow students just seemed so. . .well, boring. Did she fall into that category as well? It seemed as soon as some guy found out what she was getting her degree in, she never heard from him again. She couldn't help it. It wasn't like she chose to understand the periodic table like most people understood multiplication tables. She'd spent her life apologizing for her intelligence, but she wasn't going to any longer.

***

After her uneventful flight, Sam checked in at the base, received her housing assignment and a tentative schedule. She'd have a room mate, since unmarried officers didn't have the luxury of private housing. Sam found herself wondering how Jonas had managed to have a house to himself. He hadn't been at Eglin all that long. Perhaps he just hadn't been assigned a house mate yet.

Thanking the airman who'd delivered her to her new quarters, Sam hoisted her gear onto her shoulder, grabbing two other bags in her hands. She didn't have a lot of personal possessions, and she wanted to keep it that way. At least until she was settled a bit more permanently. And hopefully, that would be near Houston. She was about to retrieve her new key when the door opened, revealing a tall, dark skinned woman.

"Sam Carter?"

"Yeah," she said, lowering the bag on her right to offer her hand to the woman before her.

"Sheila Mason," she said, accepting her hand shake. "Let me help you with those," she offered, picking up the bag Sam had dropped.

"Thanks." Sam walked into the living room of the small house. "Nice," she commented, noticing several pieces of ethnic art gracing the room.

"No it's not," Sheila laughed, "but it's home for now. You know, when I got the word I was getting a roomie, and the name on the paper said Sam, I thought for sure someone had screwed up."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Sam smiled.

"Yeah, well, I'll get over it. Come on in! I'll show you to your room."

It was about what Sam expected. Actually, it was a bit larger than most rooms she'd been assigned. "Not bad," she commented, tossing her gear onto the bed.

"Base, sweet base," Sheila said. "So, where you transferring from?"

"Um, nowhere, recently. I was just at my. . .at Eglin for a leave. Prior to that I was in Saudi. Before that, I was stationed at Pope in North Carolina, but I was working on getting my doctorate."

"Wow. That's some rap sheet. I never was called to go to Saudi. Guess they didn't need meteorologists. So, was it as bad as I've heard?"

"Guess it depends on who you talk to," Sam said.

Sheila sat on Sam's bed as she started to unpack. "So, you got family or something at Eglin?"

"Yeah, my father," Sam said. She didn't want to go into details about who her father was. She'd learned early on it was best not to advertise the fact her father was well-placed when meeting new people.

"Got a boyfriend?" Sheila asked, causing Sam to stop and gape at her new room mate. "Hey, it's just best to get all the pertinent facts out of the way from the start," she smiled.

Sam felt her face growing warm. "I don't know if I'd call him a 'boyfriend,' necessarily." She couldn't believe how shy she felt. Most women would have had a dozen men by now, but she wasn't most women.

"Well, he must be pretty special," Sheila said cryptically, rising from Sam's bed, motioning her to follow her. In the kitchen a flower box rested on the table. This one was clearly addressed to her. What the hell was he thinking? She knew what kind of a budget Jonas was on, and flowers twice in a two week period where not part of it.

"Aren't you going to open them?"

"I. . .I don't know. I suppose I should," Sam said, clearly shocked at the gift. Untying the bow, Sam lifted the lid off the long box. This time she wasn't surprised to find roses, and she felt herself tearing up.

"Oooo, I'd say he was a boyfriend, girl! Read the card!" Sheila exclaimed, as excited as if the present had been for her.

Sam slid the card out of the small white envelope. *Knock 'em dead, Generalette! I miss you already. Jonas.* Feeling her knees go weak, Sam took a seat at the kitchen table. She'd never been romanced. How did she deal with something like this? And how the hell was she supposed to concentrate on her studies when her mind was filled with him?

Sheila was looking at her expectantly, and Sam passed her the card, watching her as she read it. "Generalette?"

"He, uh started calling me that on the night we met," Sam explained. Sheila continued to stare at her, so she elaborated. "My father's a general."

"Oh. Got it. Kinda cute though," Sheila smiled. "So, your old man's a general, huh?"

Sam looked up at her new room mate. She'd barely known her for fifteen minutes so she was already bracing herself for some comment about how she got this assignment.

"My dad's a colonel. Not quite the same, but I know how you feel. At least he's in Oklahoma."

Sam felt herself relax. "I remember when Dad was a colonel," Sam smiled. Actually, I think it was worse than it is now. At least now he's not directly in charge of a single unit, so I don't get as much fall out."

"I hear that," Sheila sighed. "So, aren't you gonna put those things in some water? And don't you have a phone call to make?"

Sam felt the color rushing to her cheeks again. "I should." She stood as Sheila offered her a pitcher.

"Sorry, best I can do. We don't get a lot of flowers around here!"

"It'll be great, thank you."

"So, how long you know this guy?"

"We just met, actually. Two weeks ago when I got back from the Gulf."

"Damn, girl, you move fast!"

"A little too fast, if you ask me," Sam said arranging the roses in the plastic pitcher. The buds hadn't opened yet, but they still smelled wonderful. "I think if I'd been stationed on the base, or at least closer, things wouldn't have moved as quickly has they did."

She felt a little odd discussing her personal life with a woman she'd just met, but there was something about Sheila that made her feel comfortable. It was rare she met anyone she warmed up to quickly, and now this was two in as many weeks.

"You got a picture of Mr. Romance?"

"No, no I don't," Sam realized, sadly. Maybe she could get a service picture of him if nothing else. But she didn't want a likeness of him in uniform. She wanted one of the way she remembered him, relaxed, and on the beach. God, she missed him! And it hadn't even been a day! She wanted to call him, thank him for the flowers. At the same time, she didn't know if she could hear his voice and keep the emotions she'd held in check all day under tight rein.

"Hey, I don't think the guy sent you flowers to make you sad, Sam."

She smiled weakly. "I'm not sad, it's just hard, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. Last guy I wanted to see more than once was in Florida. Not at Eglin, though. That would be too weird," Sheila smiled.

"Definitely would have been stretching the laws of probability," Sam agreed. I think I'm going to take these to my room. Carrying the pitcher to her bedroom, she set the flowers on the dresser. She'd unpack, get some dinner, then call him. Maybe by then she could talk to Jonas without breaking down.

*********

Sam woke early the next morning, but Sheila was already up and dressed. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Sam entered the kitchen.

"You always up this early?" she asked noting the clock on the microwave read 0500.

"Yeah," she said, toweling the perspiration from her face. "I like to get a run in before I go to work. Help yourself to anything in the 'fridge."

"Thanks. I'll pick up some stuff this afternoon," Sam said pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

Sheila poured a glass for herself and sat at the table. "So, we really didn't get much of a chance to talk last night with your call to Jonas and all."

"I did get a little carried away, didn't I?" Sam said sheepishly. "I can't believe how long we talked when I'd just seen him."

"Ah, young love," Sheila smiled. "So, what do you do?"

"Well, I'm starting at Space Command with deep space radar telemetry. Hopefully the work I do is going to coincide with my thesis which is on the effect of black holes on space and time."

Sheila made a motion of her hand skimming over her dark, curly hair. "Way over my head!"

"Well, hopefully I'm not in over *my* head. I want to finish my doctorate within the next six months. Hopefully by then I'll look a little better to NASA."

"So that's you're ultimate goal? To get to NASA?" Sheila asked, finishing off her juice.

"Yeah. I want to fly shuttles," she grinned.

"Wow, that's quite an ambition. So, you're a pilot, then?"

"Navigator, actually. So, along with everything else, I've go to keep up on flight time."

Sheila stood, wiping her face once more. "Sounds like you've got a rather full plate. How are you going to find time for that man of yours?"

Sam looked down at the table, toying with her glass. "I think I'm beginning to feel grateful he's in Florida!"

Sheila laughed. "Yeah, sometimes it can be a blessing! You mind if I hit the shower first?"

"No, go ahead. I need to press my uniform again anyway. My official meeting with General Moorman is at 0700, so I have plenty of time."

Turning back at the doorway, Sheila asked, "official meeting?"

"My dad arranged a 'little' welcome home party for me. Turns out Dad and General Moorman go way back and he introduced me. But please don't tell anyone. I've had enough crap from people thinking I've gotten preferential treatment because of my father."

Sheila patted Sam on the shoulder. "Hey, your secret's safe with me!" Glancing at the clock Sheila excused herself. "I've really got to get going, or I'm going to be late. We'll talk more later, okay?"

"Sounds good," she said, rising to rinse her glass. Leaning against the counter, Sam looked around the small kitchen. Sheila had made an attempt at decorating and the effect was welcoming. At least one of her fears had been laid to rest. The hardest part about coming to a new base was settling in, and Sheila had gone a long way in making her feel welcome. There might be a pain in her chest when she thought of Jonas, but things were going to be okay.

*********

Sam was waiting outside General Moorman's office even before his secretary arrived. She was pacing when she showed up, and the woman gave her a reassuring smile, informing Sam the General was going to be delayed. It had been bad enough to wait the last half hour, now she was going to have to wait even longer.

"Patience is a virtue," she muttered to herself, recalling the words her father had drilled into her since she could remember.

"What's that, Captain?" the secretary asked.

"Oh, nothing, sorry."

The woman smiled in sympathy. "Is this your first visit to Peterson?"

"Uh, no. I did some work here when I was a cadet."

"Really?" she said, sounding impressed. "It's not too often we have cadets working on any projects."

"There was a problem with one of the satellites, and I came up with a solution," Sam said, shrugging her shoulders as if the answer had been as simple as repairing a VCR.

The woman was about to comment when General Moorman breezed into his office. "Good Morning, Sylvia. Thanks for holding down the fort." Accepting a stack of papers his assistant handed him, he turned to see Sam standing at attention.

"Ah, Captain Carter, right? Give me a minute to get things organized and we'll have our meeting."

"Yes, Sir!" Sam called, giving him a crisp salute. He smiled at the gesture, and returned it, releasing her from her tense posture.

Now she was seriously getting nervous. He seemed congenial enough, but how did she know? Any behavior she'd observed at the party was not going to be how this man operated on a day-to-day basis.

After another fifteen minutes, Moorman summoned her to his office, where she stood at attention once more.

"At ease, Captain. Please have a seat."

"Thank you, Sir."

"I've been looking over your record," he said, flipping through a file on his desk. "Very impressive."

Sam ducked her head, trying to hide her smile. "Thank you, Sir."

"I want you to be aware that who you're related to has no bearing on this assignment. I don't care if your father is President Bush, you're on my base because your skills will be an asset, is that clear?"

Sam felt herself relax at Moorman's words, but remembered to keep her spine straight as she sat in the chair before his desk.

"That's not to say your father didn't give me a bit of a nudge to look at your file, though," he smiled at her, and she wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Was he chastising her? Assuming she'd put her father up to pulling strings for her?

"I've known Jacob for a long time," the general said. "And no matter how much parental pride he has, he would never recommend you if you weren't qualified. What I'm saying, Captain, is you got here on your own, and it's you who's going to have to do the work to remain here."

"Yes, Sir!" Sam answered, wondering how many military brats had occupied this seat expecting their connections to carry them through.

"I understand you're working on getting your doctorate?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm going to be taking some night courses at the University."

"May I ask what your thesis is going to be on?"

"The effect of black holes on space and time."

Moorman raised his eyebrows. "Impressive. I can see why your father is so proud."

Sam looked down at her hands folded in her lap, shy once more. "Thank you, Sir."

"Well, Captain, I expect you to make Peterson proud as well. I'm assigning you to NORAD to put some of those theories on deep space telemetry to work. General West is head of the operation there, but officially you're still assigned to this base. Do you have a car?"

"Uh, no, Sir. Not yet."

"Transportation will be arranged. We have a number of people that commute there daily, so that shouldn't be a problem. I take it you're ready to get started?"

"Yes, Sir!"

Moorman grinned at Sam's enthusiasm. "I'll arrange for a car."

*********

Sam was a little overwhelmed by the end of her tour of NORAD. She had no idea the facility was so large. So many of the rooms looked alike with their banks of monitors, she wondered if she'd ever find her way around.

Taking an elevator to level 6, her guide led her to a lab with the requisite monitors, as well as several computers. Sam noticed the screens weren't displaying the same near-Earth information as the equipment on the upper levels, but an area of space she didn't immediately recognize. Already she could feel her excitement growing. She relished the work she did for the Air Force like navigating an aircraft, but science was her first love. Now that things were calming down a bit in the Middle East, she planned on taking full advantage of her new posting to prove her theories.

"Captain Carter?" the airman serving as guide asked, barely drawing her attention to him.

"Yes?"

"General West would like to meet with you after you've settled in. Say about an hour?"

"Sure," Sam answered, sitting before one of the computers, completely engrossed.

"Good luck, Captain," the man wished her as he exited the small lab.

"Thanks," she muttered after he'd left. She began tapping away at the key board, becoming frustrated at the limitations of the program on the computer. Sighing, Sam set to work writing a new program, losing all track of time. She was half-way through her task when the phone rang. Absentmindedly, Sam picked up the handset.

"Carter," she answered, tucking the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could keep typing.

"Captain Carter, I believe we had an appointment fifteen minutes ago?"

Sam swallowed, eyes growing wide. "General West?"

"I hope this 'oversight' isn't indicative of your usual conduct?" The harsh tone of his voice had Sam scrambling to her feet.

"No, Sir! I'm on my way, Sir!" Sam quickly hung up the phone, saved the work she'd done and was out the door within seconds. She had to ask for directions three times before she found the general's office, but managed to straighten her uniform and appear somewhat composed as she knocked on West's door.

"Come!"

Sam hoped her stride showed confidence, because she certainly didn't feel it. Standing at attention before her new C.O., she gave him a perfect salute. "Captain Samantha Carter reporting as ordered, Sir!"

"At ease, Captain," West said, releasing her from her tense posture. He declined to offer her a seat, so Sam merely relaxed her stance.

Leaning back in his chair, the general steepled his fingers. "Let's get the apology out of the way."

"I *am* sorry, Sir. I was working on writing a new program so I could begin my work, and. . ."

West leaned forward, scanning her record. "Are you a computer programmer, Captain? I see nothing in your file that states this."

"Well, Sir, not specifically, no, but. . ."

"Then what makes you think you can come into a new position and begin fiddling with established programs?"

"With all due respect, Sir, I wasn't 'fiddling.' I wrote this program when I was a graduate student to help me further my research into black holes. It's a more efficient way to locate them. I know it works, because I've used it."

General West didn't seem willing to cut her any slack. "If this program is better than the system we're using, why hasn't it been brought to my attention?"

Sam shrugged. "I suppose because it's not public knowledge. It's just something I came up with for my own research."

West leaned back once more. "While I appreciate your modesty, Captain, I'd like to have a look at this program, and have my computer people to investigate it as well. You have my permission to finish writing it."

"Thank you, Sir," she replied, slightly miffed she now had to ask permission for something she'd done in college.

"I know personally you're interested in finding black holes, but we're looking for any anomalies in deep space. Keep that in mind while you're doing your research."

"Yes, Sir," Sam answered. West seemed to be a bit hard-nosed, but then she couldn't expect every commander she served under was going to be relaxed and welcoming. Her own father probably leaned more toward the General West end of the spectrum.

"Very well, Captain. Let me know when you're finished. Dismissed." West was perusing another file even before Sam executed her parting salute.

*********

Standing in the back of her new lab, Sam watched as General West's "experts" ran through her program.

"This is amazing!" a man uttered.

"It's certainly more effective than the old program," a woman agreed.

Sam rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms. Geeze! It wasn't like she'd discovered the cure for cancer! It was just a computer program!

The woman turned to Sam. "You say you wrote this to help with your homework?"

Sam smiled. "More or less. It's not like the standard programs don't work. I just 'tweaked' it a little. This is faster, a little more accurate."

"Well it's very impressive," the man said, standing to face Sam. Looking at the other technician he said, "this program could really improve our accuracy. I think we should recommend to the General it be implemented system-wide."

Sam looked from one person to the next. "You're kidding, right? I mean it's not that big a deal!"

"Captain Carter, I don't think you know what you've got here!" the woman said.

"Apparently not," Sam muttered.

"You'll get full credit, of course," the man told her.

Sam started to laugh, rubbing her eyebrows. "Okay. Whatever. Do you think I could get back to work, now?"

The man and woman exchanged glances, clearly unsure how to take her blaze' attitude. Sam *was* excited she'd been able to make a contribution, but it just seemed like they were blowing the whole thing out of proportion. What would they do if she *really* discovered something?

*********

It was a short walk from her drop-off point, and Sam was grateful for the exercise. After being cooped up in her lab most of the day, she was just happy to see the sky. She wondered how she was going to handle working deep inside a mountain after months of working in the air. It was quite the transition. Had she made the wrong decision heading her career in a direction that didn't include flying?

Before she knew it, Sam was standing before her door, key in hand. Opening the door, she remembered her early morning promise to Sheila about groceries.

"Damn," she mumbled as she shut the door behind her.

"Gee, and I was hoping your first day had gone well," Sheila grinned, coming around the corner from the kitchen.

Sam jumped at the sound of her voice. "Guess I wasn't expecting you to hear that," she smiled. "I forgot to pick up some food."

"No sweat," Sheila said, waving her hand dismissivly. "What's mine is yours. So, how'd it go?" she asked, climbing onto the sofa, settling down cross-legged on the cushions.

Joining her, Sam smiled. "Good, actually. I've been assigned to NORAD."

"Hey, that's pretty big stuff! Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Sam said, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"So everything went okay?" Sheila pressed.

Sam blew out a breath. "Yeah, but I caused quite a stir." At Sheila's questioning glance, Sam continued. "All I did was install a program I'd written a year or so ago, and before I knew it, General West has some 'computer experts' down in the lab and they're going on about it like I discovered penicillin or something. They're even talking about upgrading the whole system."

Sheila's mouth dropped open. "The whole NORAD system? Damn, Girl! I should be kneeling at your feet!"

Sam laughed, pushing on Sheila's shoulder. "You're as bad as the rest of them. I feel kind of silly, actually. I mean I didn't *do* anything! It's just a stupid program I wrote to help me with my research!"

"Well if that's the case, I have a feeling your thesis is going to make a few people sit up and take notice."

"Now *that* would be cool," Sam sighed. "I just get embarrassed when I come up with something that's no big deal."

"But, Sam. . . ." Sheila tried to continue.

Sam got to her feet, heading toward her room, unbuttoning her blazer as she went. "You mind if we don't talk about this any more? I kind of had enough of it earlier."

"Uh, sure," Sheila said, watching her move out of the room.

Sam was half undressed by the time she got to her bedroom. Noticing the flowers as she entered, Sam saw they were starting to open up. Sitting on her bed, she reached out and touched a petal. God she wished Jonas was here! He'd laugh about the big deal everyone at NORAD was making over her. But just maybe he'd be a little proud of her too. Maybe he'd tell her he'd known she'd fit in. That's all she really wanted, was a place were she could contribute something. At least the attention she'd drawn today was from her efforts and not from being General Jacob Carter's daughter.

Glancing at the clock, she wondered if she should call Jonas. No, it would look like she was bragging, she decided. Really, all she wanted was to hear his voice, but she had to break away from him sometime. After all, he would be going back to active duty soon and who knew when she'd see him again.

Sam ran her fingers over the velvety petals of the roses once more, drawing a stem closer to smell the blossom's fragrance, hoping she was in Jonas' thoughts as much as he was in hers.

*********

Two weeks had passed and Sam hadn't heard anything more from Jonas. She'd tried to call once, but there was no answer. Feeling a bit foolish, she hadn't tried again. Either he wasn't around or he'd found someone else to walk on the beach with. That image cut through her more than any pain from unreceived phone calls. Every night she checked the answering machine, hoping this had been the day he called.

Despite her emotional turmoil, career wise, things couldn't be going better. After the initial excitement she'd created, things were starting to settle down to a routine. Her classes were going well, and if things continued to go as smoothly, she'd have her thesis finished within three months. Dr. Carter. It had a nice ring to it she decided. She didn't need the possibility of adding a hyphenated 'Hansen' to it to make her happy.

Sam couldn't believe her thoughts were even headed in that direction! This weekend would be one month she'd known him, and half of that time she hadn't even heard from him! Still, she supposed she couldn't help her day dreams. And just because she hadn't heard from Jonas didn't mean 'things'--whatever they might be--were over between them.

Somehow Sam had managed to get the weekend off. As the "new kid" she was surprised to have been afforded such a luxury. It was Friday night, and walking toward her quarters, Sam tried to quell the hope there'd be a message--anything--from Jonas.

Opening the door, her eyes automatically darted to the answering machine whose diode glowed steadily. Disappointed, Sam did her best not to let it get to her, but Sheila noticed her mood.

"Look, maybe you'll hear something from him this weekend," Sheila tried to encourage her. "A guy doesn't send flowers like that one week and forget about you the next."

"Unless he's got a guilty conscience," Sam said, heading toward the refrigerator, withdrawing a beer. "I guess I just wish I hadn't heard anything from him at all. This would have been so much easier if I could have left him in Florida." Opening the bottle, Sam took a long drink, leaning against the counter. Even the beer reminded her of him. She didn't realize until she was at the check-out she'd automatically selected the brand Jonas kept on hand.

"Something came for you today," Sheila said, suppressing a grin. "Something from Eglin," she added.

Sam was paging through her mail. "Huh? Oh. Dad said he had some things of mine he was going to send." Looking around the room she asked, "where'd you put it?"

"In your room. It was kind of big to leave out here."

Tucking her mail under her arm, Sam picked up the beer and took another swallow. "Thanks, Sheila. I guess I better go see what he sent."

Turning the door knob, Sam let out a squeal.

"Hey, Generalette."

"Jonas? Oh, my, God! What are you doing here?" Sam barely managed to set her beer down before she leaped on the bed, pinning him back against the pillows. She didn't give him any time to answer before her mouth was on his, stealing what little breath he had.

Breaking apart he gave her a jaunty grin. "Hey, I thought you were shy!"

"I missed you so much! Why didn't you call?" she said, sitting up, her legs astride his waist.

"Last week or today?"

"Both!"

"I'm back in training," he said, running his hands up her arms. "This is the first break we've had. Plus, I wanted to surprise you!"

"Well you certainly did that! Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?" she asked, leaning forward to kiss him once more.

"Oh, I've got some idea," he smiled against her lips. Pushing her back slightly, Jonas ran a hand over her hair. "I've missed you too, Sam." Looking over at her dresser he said, "I think the roses have about had it."

Petals had showered down onto the gleaming wood surface, leaving a pitcher full of withered leaves and bare stems.

"I couldn't throw them out," Sam confessed. "They were my only link to you."

"Maybe I should get you some new ones," he said, pulling her down for another kiss.

"Jonas! They're too expensive! It was a lovely gesture, really, but I don't want you wasting money on something like that."

"Even if you're worth it?"

Sam blushed. "Yeah, even if you think I'm worth it." Sitting up again she brushed the hair back out of her eyes. "So, what kind of training are you taking? Extra flight time to get reinstated as a pilot?"

Jonas grew quiet. "I told you, Sam. Given my past medical history it's unlikely I'll fly again."

"But you said. . ."

"I know what I said. The reality of the situation is it's a slim chance at best. I can't live on that kind of hope. I have to keep busy or I *will* go nuts."

Sam nodded her head in understanding. "So what are you doing?"

There was a pause before he answered, "Special Ops."

Sam climbed off him, moving to the edge of the bed, her back to him. "You told me you were just thinking about that."

"Well, at the time I was just thinking about it."

"It's only been two weeks, you couldn't have thought about it for too long."

Jonas let out a sigh and tried to move closer to her, but she moved further away. "Look, Sam, you were gone. You know I have no friends at Eglin. This feels right. I can make a difference with these guys!"

Sam bent her head, struggling not to let him see how upset she was.

"Sam?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I want you to do something that makes you feel fulfilled," she said, then turned around to look him in the eye. "But does it have to be something so dangerous?"

"Not everything Special Ops does is dangerous," he said.

"Oh, please! How naive do you think I am? It's what they do!"

"I'm sorry, Sam, but for the first time since I got back from Saudi I feel like I'm doing something to make up for what happened to my unit, my friends."

Sam couldn't counter his argument. She knew he wasn't over the loss of his men, if indeed he'd ever "get over" it. She allowed him to pull her into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Jonas. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "I'm sorry I haven't called, but we've been confined to the base during the first part of our training. I'm not sure how we got this weekend off, but when I found out, the first thing I did was hop on a transport."

"And how did you know I was off?" she asked, smiling up at him.

"I didn't know, but I thought at the very least we'd have the nights together," he grinned. "So when I called and got your room mate, we set this up."

"I should be mad at both of you for stinging me along, but I can't help it. It was the best surprise I think I've ever had." Sam moved closer so she could kiss him once more. "I hope you've eaten," she said between capturing his lips, "because I don't intend to let you out of this bed until tomorrow."

*********

Checking the time on the kitchen clock, Sam decided technically, it was "tomorrow." Reaching into the cupboard for a glass, she couldn't help the smile that kept surfacing as she thought about her night. It seemed they'd proved the old adage of "absence making the heart grow fonder" was true, even if it hadn't been that long. Sam let the tap run until the water turned cold, filling up her glass. She was taking a sip when she heard footsteps behind her.

"I thought I told you to stay in bed," she said, before turning around.

"I thought it would be a little crowded," Sheila said, leaning into the doorframe of the kitchen with her arms crossed. Sam choked on the water, causing both women to laugh.

"Sorry, I thought you were. . ."

"'That miserable creep who can't dial a phone?'" Sheila quoted, going to the cupboard for a glass of her own.

"That would be the one," Sam said, ducking her head.

"So, what are you doing out here anyway? From the noise you two were making I thought you'd changed your mind about researching space stuff and decided to do your thesis on the mating practices of rabbits."

Sam felt her face burn. "Mink, actually. The man has teeth." They both laughed again before Sam hushed her. "If he hears us, he's going to get paranoid!"

"Any reason he *should* be paranoid?" Sheila asked, downing half a glass of water.

Sam gave a wistful sigh. "Absolutely, none!"

"Girl, you're positively glowing! I'm so jealous!"

"Yeah, well, you were 'shining' pretty good yourself last week when Darnel what's-his-name brought you home!"

"Mmmm. He is something, isn't he? Well, I better take advantage of the 'intermission' so I can get *some* sleep tonight," Sheila teased. "See you later. Or then again, maybe not!"

Sam slapped Sheila's arm as she passed her by. Trouble was, she probably hadn't been exaggerating! Returning to her bedroom, Sam was surprised to see Jonas propped up against the head board.

"I thought you were asleep," she whispered.

"I was until you two started cackling out there," he smiled.

"I don't 'cackle.'"

"Could have fooled me! What was so funny, anyway?" Jonas asked, sliding down into the bed once more as Sam joined him.

"Oh, nothing," she yawned, settling on his chest "We were just discussing the differences between small furred rodents and weasels."

********

The weekend had gone by all too quick, and Sam was waiting with Jonas at the airport to catch the last flight of the day. She was leaning against him, relishing the feel of his arm slung around her shoulders.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she sighed.

"I wish I didn't have to either," he said, drawing his arm tighter. "As soon as my training's over, I'm going to put in for a transfer. You know if you said something to your dad. . . ."

Sam sat up, staring angrily at him. "I can't believe you said that! You know how I feel about asking my father for special favors!"

"Sam, it was just a suggestion!" he cried. "I'm going to do this on my own, I just thought you could 'nudge' him in the right direction if the subject came up."

"Actually, it might be better if I didn't try to help you."

"Why do you say that?"

Sam didn't know how to respond. How did she tell him her father would have a coronary if he knew she was seeing him? "You're not exactly his favorite person," she said, looking up at him hesitantly.

"Oh." Jonas looked away fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

Sam placed her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face her again. "I think it's more that Dad still has this dream I'm going to get together with Philip." She could see he wasn't buying her attempt at reassuring him.

"Looks like the flight's on time," he said, swiftly changing the subject. "Too bad, I would have liked a little more time with you," he smiled.

"Me too."

"Uh, look, Sam. We should probably say good-bye here. It might be easier for both of us."

She nodded mutely, wrapping her arms around his neck giving him a quick kiss. She started to pull back when he held on, kissing her more soundly. "Why do you think I wanted to say good-bye here," he grinned. "The other we could have done with an audience. I'll call you when I can, okay? Don't go freaking out if you don't hear from me!"

"I promise," Sam said, clenching her fists to keep from throwing herself into his arms once more.

Jonas touched her on the nose. "Be good."

Sam felt her eyes filling with moisture. If he didn't go soon, she wasn't going to let him! He turned to leave, not looking back, which she realized was for the best. Moving to the windows, she stood at the glass long after his plane was airborne, waiting for her legs to carry her home.

*********

~December, 1991~

The months seemed to slip by as Sam devoted her time and energy to research and writing her paper. She loved the work she did at NORAD, but it seemed as if there was something missing. Something bigger or more important she should be working on. She didn't have a clue what it was, only a sense that she was on the verge of something big.

Perhaps it was merely her impending graduation. She'd finally finished her thesis and would be receiving her degree at mid-term commencement. Her father would be there, and hopefully Mark, but she didn't hold out much hope for him. Of course the one person she really wanted to be there wouldn't be. Jonas was on a secret mission and she had no idea where he was or when he'd return.

Sam tried not to worry about him, but it was nearly impossible when he was constantly in her thoughts. They'd managed to meet a couple of times in the past months, but it wasn't nearly enough. Every time Jonas left, Sam felt a bit of herself leaving with him. She didn't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, she'd fallen completely in love with Jonas Hansen.

The only trouble was, her father. She still hadn't mentioned Jonas to him, mostly because the timing wasn't right during a short phone call. Hopefully this weekend she'd find the strength to tell him. In a way, she was almost thankful Jonas wouldn't be able to attend her graduation. It might be better if she told her father when he wasn't around.

Jacob wanted to have a party for Sam, but she insisted it just be family and friends at a small gathering. So small, in fact, Sam decided to have the get together at the house she shared with Sheila. Even though their quarters were 'economic,' as Sheila put it, there was enough room for the few friends Sam had.

Jacob had arrived a day early to spend some time with Sam before her commencement, and she had a whole speech planned out on how she was going to tell him about Jonas. However, her father seemed to have other plans, talking up her accomplishments at NORAD, questioning her about future plans. Actually, that topic should have been the perfect opening, but they'd been interrupted by an old acquaintance of her father as they toured the base.

Opportunities didn't seem to present themselves the morning of her graduation, either, making her feel as if she was purposely hiding something from her father.

Sam was sitting on her sofa, still high from the thrill of now being "Dr. Carter." Her father was in the kitchen talking to Sheila's boyfriend Darnel, when her room mate joined her on the couch.

"It was a nice ceremony, Sam," she said, handing her friend a glass of punch.

"Yeah, it was, but it was pretty much a blur," Sam admitted. "I can't believe how nervous I was!"

"Well, you sure didn't look it. Man, you should have seen the look on your dad's face! I think he was just about ready to burst!"

Sam smiled. "I'm just glad he could come."

"You haven't told him about Jonas yet, have you?"

Sam looked up at her. "How did you know?"

"It's obvious something's wrong. You should be a little more excited about this whole thing."

"I'm just missing Jonas," she said, which was true, but it wasn't the only thing weighing on her mind.

"You should talk to him," Sheila insisted.

"What, now? This is supposed to be a party!"

"Then act like it," Sheila said, standing. "I better go save Darnel from your old man."

Sam leaned back against the sofa. Sheila was right, of course. And maybe it *would* be better to tell him here. He might not let his temper get the better of him with an audience.

Getting to her feet, Sam walked into the kitchen. "Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Kiddo. Nice to meet you Darnel."

"You too, Sir."

Pulling Jacob over to the sofa, Sam took a seat motioning him to do the same.

"Sam? Is something wrong?"

"Dad, I know this really isn't the time or the place, but there's something I've been trying to tell you since you got here." Sam took a deep breath, hoping it would give her the courage to go on.

"You're not sick or something? One of those diseases they're linking to the Gulf war?" he asked, clearly worried.

"No, nothing like that." Looking up into his concerned eyes, she blurted, "I've been seeing someone."

"Sammie, that's great! Why the big mystery? I probably don't know the guy anyway!"

Sam swallowed then said, "Yeah, you do, Dad. It's Jonas."

"Jonas? Jonas who?"

"Jonas Hansen."

Jacob's face was blank for a moment, then the name registered with him. "How? I mean he's stationed in Florida!"

"That's where I started seeing him. When I was visiting you after I first came back from Desert Storm."

Sam watched her father's face become livid as the information sank in. His jaw was clenching in the same way it did when he spoke of Mark.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?"

"Dad, I'm not a kid you can ground when you don't approve of my boyfriends."

"Apparently I should have! Jesus, Sam! Jonas Hansen? Could you have made a worse choice?"

"You don't know him!" she cried. "You have no idea what he's like! All you've heard are rumors and read impersonal reports! He's not the trouble you think he is! He's sweet, and kind, and generous, and he loves me!"

"Oh, please! I've seen his kind before! I'm sure he's been very charming, swept you right off your feet, hasn't he? And such a gaping wounded heart for you to heal!"

"That's not fair. The fact Jonas has had a rough time is beside the point," she said, looking around the room instead of at him. Sam lowered her voice when she noticed the few people who'd been in the living room had migrated to the relative safety of the kitchen. "He's said being with me has helped."

Jacob let out a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "It's like a narcotic with you, Sam! If you're concentrating on someone else's pain, there's no time for your own."

Sam's back stiffened and she looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You think I didn't see how your mother's death affected you? How it's still affecting you?"

Sam was still turned away from Jacob. "Dad, it's been over ten years since Mom died. I think I'm over it."

"Are you? This emotional insecurity you've got going? You know why Jonas is so attractive to you? Because he's hurting worse than you. That he's got more baggage than you, and if you can 'save' him there might be some hope for you."

Getting off the couch, Sam moved away from her father, unconsciously wrapping her arms around herself. "I didn't know you had time to take a course on pop psychology, Dad."

"It doesn't take a genius to see what's in front of me." Jacob rose and turned his daughter to face him. "If it wasn't Jonas, Sam, it would be some other guy who's got problems."

"So you're saying any emotional cripple could step into Jonas' shoes and I wouldn't even miss a beat?"

Jacob looked at his feet, but didn't answer.

"You're wrong, Dad. I love Jonas." Pulling away from his hands she added, "he's asked me to marry him."

Jacob's head shot up. "Sam! No! You can't possibly be thinking of marrying him!"

"I am, Dad."

"Have you given him an answer?"

This time it was Sam who looked down. "I haven't decided."

"Then it's not too late. At least you're showing *some* sense!"

"I haven't decided because I don't know if I can handle him being gone all the time on such dangerous missions. That's the only thing holding me back!"

Jacob reached out and took her by the upper arms. "Sam, please. Don't do this! For Christ's sake, you just got a degree proclaiming how smart you are! Use some of those brains!"

Sam couldn't help equating her father's obstinate behavior with the way he treated Mark. Mark hadn't lived up to her father's expectations, and now neither was she. Maybe her brother hadn't been wrong about their father's attitude. He'd tried to warn her. Tell her how Jacob would 'abandon' her as well when she didn't fall into the nice, neat category their father wanted her in. She didn't believe Mark, thinking it was only bitterness causing him to talk badly of their father. Now it was looking like Mark's words contained more fact than she was willing to admit. Perhaps she had blinders on when it came to Jonas, but then she had them for her father as well.

The trouble was, there was a grain of truth to his statements. Part of Jonas' attraction *was* his need for her, but was that such a bad thing? Marriages had been built on far worse. And she *did* love him. Maybe they wouldn't have the ideal family life, but did she even know what that was?

"Dad," she said at length, "I'm not one of your men. You can't order me not marry Jonas."

Jacob let go of her arms, straightening to a stiff, military posture. "Then I guess we have nothing more to say." Retrieving his hat and coat, he headed for the door.

Sam rushed over to the door, trying to block his exit. "Please, Dad, don't go like this! Take some time, try to get to know him! I promise I won't do anything until you've had the chance to get better acquainted with him!"

Jamming his hat on his head, he gently pushed her aside. "I know all I need to know. Good-bye, Sammie. Congratulations." With that, Jacob Carter left her house without a backward glance.

*********

The next few months were the most miserable Sam could ever remember. She'd tried to call her father, but he was continually "unavailable." Even calling at home had produced no results. Jonas still hadn't returned from his latest mission, and she was starting to worry. This was the longest she'd gone without some word of him.

She'd thought about her father's words, and the more she dwelled on them, the angrier she became. She was an adult, capable of making her own decisions, and if her father wanted to sit in Florida and pout over her choice, that was his business. The minute she saw Jonas she was going to accept his proposal.

Sam sat picking at her dinner, not really tasting anything she'd eaten lately.

"Sam, come on," Sheila prodded. "You have to eat something! You're wasting away to nothing!"

"I'm sorry, Sheila, it really is delicious, I'm just not very hungry," she said, taking a bite for her friend's benefit.

"You don't have to lie, I know I can't cook, but it's better than a MRE, isn't it?"

Sam managed a small smile. How long had it been since she'd eaten rations? Jonas was now. If he was lucky, she thought. "It's hard not to worry," she confessed.

Sheila reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "He's going to be all right. He's too stubborn to die."

Sam nodded, laying down her fork. She wasn't up to pushing her food around the plate any more. "I just wish things with my Dad. . . ."

"I know. If it's any consolation, I think he's being a jerk."

"Yeah. What is it about parents that they think they always know what's best for you? I mean I can see it when you're young, they probably have more insight, but I'm old enough to be having my own children! If Jonas makes me happy, why can't he accept that and just be glad because *I'm* happy?"

"Yeah, you're bubbling with joy," Sheila said, taking a mouthful of casserole.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that you *talk* about how you don't care what your father thinks, but it's obvious you do. I'm not saying he's right, but until you can 'agree to disagree' you're not going to be happy. If your dad's opinion truly means nothing to you, prove it. Get over this and do what you think is best. Prove him wrong. Show him you and Jonas can have a future together."

Sam sighed, standing to take her plate to the sink. For a moment the only sound was the grating of her fork on the dish as she scraped the remains of her dinner into the garbage. "I know you're right, Sheila. It's just all my life I've felt I never quite measured up, and to have it thrown in my face that I don't, well, it's a little hard to deal with."

"Sam, your father loves you, otherwise he wouldn't be acting this way. If he didn't care he would have just shrugged his shoulders when you told him about Jonas. You had to know this was how he was going to react, otherwise you wouldn't have put off telling him."

"It's pretty much what I expected," Sam said, leaning back on the counter.

"Is there any chance your dad's right?" Sheila hinted.

"You mean about Jonas?"

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, from what I've seen he seems like a decent guy, but is it possible your dad knows something you don't?"

Sam blew out a breath. "Just his service record, I suppose, but of course not everything in there is going to paint him in glowing colors. Jonas *did* lose all of his men in a raid, regardless of why, I'm sure there are people who hold him accountable. Maybe my dad's one of them," she shrugged.

"I think if it was something like that, he would have just told you, don't you think?"

"He came pretty close to telling me Jonas is unstable! He keeps using this 'stray dog' analogy on me. Sometimes strays *can* be reformed. I think Jonas is on the way."

Sheila stood, clearing off her own plate. "If it helps, I believe Jonas loves you, Sam. I'm not saying he's 'Mr. Perfect' and he's not going to hurt you, but I don't think he'd intentionally cause you grief."

Sam gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, Sheila. I think that's what I needed to hear."

********

It had been five months since Sam's "fall from grace" with her father, but at least today it wasn't upper most in her mind. Jonas had called her at 0300 to let her know he would be arriving in Colorado Springs later that day.

Looking back as she waited in the terminal, Sam wondered how she'd made it through work that day. Fortunately, there hadn't been anything pressing, for her entire shift was a blur except for her thoughts of Jonas' return. Sam paced as she waited for passengers to disembark through the flexible tunnel connecting the aircraft with the terminal.

At last she saw him. He looked thinner, more haggard than the last time she'd seen him, but it really wasn't a surprise. God only knew where he'd been, and sleep and food probably hadn't been top priorities. Seeing her at the end of the ramp, Jonas picked up his pace, dropping his carry-on bag to sweep her into his arms.

"God, I missed you!" He mumbled against her lips as he bent to kiss her.

Sam didn't waste any time in returning his kiss, hugging him so tight she though for sure she'd cracked his ribs. "I missed you, too. I hope all your missions aren't going to be this long," she said, capturing his mouth once more.

Realizing they were blocking pedestrian traffic, Sam dragged him out of the way, to sit on one of the now vacant chairs.

"Don't you want to go?" Jonas questioned.

"In a minute. Before we go any further, I have to tell you something."

A look of worry crossed Jonas' face. "Sam?"

"It's good," she said, suddenly feeling unsure. "At least I hope it's good."

"What?"

"The answer is 'yes.'"

"The answer to what?" he asked, looking confused.

"Your proposal. I'm saying yes."

Jonas simply stared at her, making Sam suddenly wonder if there was any way she could have misinterpreted his asking her to marry him.

"That is if the offer is still open," she said, looking at him hesitantly.

Jonas shook his head slightly. "If the off. . .Of course I still want to marry you!" he cried, pulling her into a crushing hug. "I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant or something!"

Sam pulled back. "Would that be so terrible?"

"Well, no, yeah, kind of, I don't know!" he said, running a hand through his hair. "I mean it wouldn't be terrible, but it's not what either one of us need right now. You've got your career just starting and mine. . .well it wouldn't be the best time, would it?"

"No, you're right, this wouldn't be the right time. But you want kids someday, right?" She couldn't believe she'd accepted his marriage proposal without knowing such a crucial piece of information.

"Of course I do!" he said, slinging his arm over her shoulders, hugging her once more. "It's be great having a little Sam running around the house quoting scientific formulas!"

"I don't do that," she said, gently slapping his chest.

"No, but you do math in your sleep."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I wish I was! Half the time I'm in bed with you I feel like I'm in some kind of advanced algebra class."

"And the other half?" she asked, lowering her voice, kissing his ear.

"That's the part I like best," he grinned. Pulling away from her, Jonas began to dig in his pack. "I know this isn't exactly how either of us pictured this, but I can't wait, Sam." When Jonas' hand came out of his bag, he held a small velour covered box. "You have no idea how long I've been carrying this around, hoping you'd say the magic word."

Opening the box, he presented her with the ring. It wasn't fancy, nor set with an excessively large diamond, but still, larger than she figured he could afford. Taking the gold circle from the box's satin lining, Jonas slid it on her left hand.

"Thank you, Sam," he breathed. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, her throat was so constricted, she barely managed to get the words out. "Let's get out of here."

*********

Jonas was catching up on some much needed sleep as Sam sat curled up on the sofa. Sheila was coming in from yet another date with Darnel.

"Geeze, you two, get a room!" Sam said, alerting the couple they had an audience.

"Sam! I thought you'd be asleep, or at least in bed," Sheila grinned suggestively.

"No, I couldn't sleep, but if you guys. . . "

"Don't get up," Darnel said, holding out his hand. "I have to go anyway." He gave Sheila another embarrassingly long kiss before she closed the door on him.

Leaning against the door, Sheila sighed. "Man, that boy sure knows how to kiss."

Sam looked down at her lap where her right hand automatically played with the band on her left finger.

"Oooo, girl! You told him yes?"

"Yeah," Sam smiled, wondering why she should feel shy about admitting it to her friend. It's not like Sheila didn't know she was going to accept.

"Let me see! Let me see!" she cried, turning up the lights to get a better look. "Well, you won't be out-shining any General's wives with that one," she said.

"Sheila!"

"I'm kidding, Sam! It's really. . .nice."

"Nice? Sheila, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing that a similar band on my hand wouldn't cure," she sighed. "I'm just so damned jealous of what you and Jonas have," she said, slumping down onto the sofa next to Sam.

"Come on, it's not like you and Darnel. . . ."

"He's not looking for anything long term, and I know it. I knew it when I started seeing him. Still, it's hard not to ponder the 'what ifs.'"

"Yeah," Sam sighed, remembering her own "premature" thoughts about getting together with Jonas. "Who knows, you'll probably marry Darnel and you'll be together longer than Jonas and me."

"Hey! What kind of a curse on your relationship is that? You two really are going to be connected till 'death do you part.' Just remember that." Sheila tried to stifle a yawn. "I gotta hit the hay, or I'm going to be worth shit at work tomorrow. Don't stay up too late!" she admonished. "You want the light on?"

"No, I like the dark."

"Okay. 'Night Sam."

"'Night, Sheila."

Sam lay her head back against the edge of the couch, still absentmindedly twirling the ring on her finger. Had she made the right choice? It wasn't like they were getting married tomorrow; she'd have time to adjust to the idea before she became Samantha Carter-Hansen. Actually, she liked how that sounded. She tried to imagine what it would be like married to him, but all that came to mind was the waiting. The same waiting she endured now as he was sent to God knew where to execute some insanely risky mission. Maybe when they got married he'd think of doing something a little more "conventional." If only he could fly again. . . .

*********

The next morning Sam was picking up Jonas' clothes, checking pockets as she prepared to wash his civilian clothes along with his BDUs. Looking over at him, Sam made sure he was still sleeping. It wasn't like she was digging for evidence of other women, or some clue to his latest mission. She just wanted to make sure nothing valuable ended up in the washer.

There was something in the back pocket of his fatigue pants. It was squareish, slightly flexible, and wedged into the pocket. When she'd finally worked it free, she discovered a small Christian Bible. Raising her eyebrows at her discovery, Sam flipped through the book, almost as if she didn't believe the outer cover matched the contents.

Taking a seat on the bed, she continued to peruse the volume, occasionally recognizing a passage or two. Just then she felt an arm slide around her waist, causing her to jump.

"You're awake," she said, quickly closing the book as if she'd been caught doing something elicit.

"I have been. You looking for something?" His voice wasn't exactly accusing, but it was obvious he wanted an explanation as to why she was going through his personal belongings.

"I was going to do some laundry. I thought maybe you'd like me to do some of yours as long as I was at it."

Jonas pulled Sam backward until her head rested on his stomach. Brushing the hair out of her face he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. "I didn't realize you had this domestic streak in you!"

Sam kissed him back, then sat up. "I don't usually. I guess getting engaged has that effect on me! Besides, it seems silly to make you do your own when I have a load to do."

"I think I'm going to like being married to you," Jonas growled, burying his face between her neck and her shoulder, giving her a slight bite. As distracting as he was, Sam had questions about the book she found. Sitting up straighter, she held the leather-bound volume just over her shoulder.

"A Bible? Since when are you so religious?" she asked, turning to look at him.

Jonas shrugged his shoulders, then lay back, placing his hands behind his head. "I'm not. It's more of a 'good-luck' charm." At Sam's quizzical glance he continued. "Tony Schlachner was the last man of my unit to die. Remember the night we met? That was Tony. Anyway, after the funeral, his wife sent me this, saying he wanted me to have it. That it had saved his ass, if it hadn't saved his soul."

Sam looked down at the cover of the book and noticed a graze mark, almost like a burn across the leather. She fingered it, then gazed at Jonas once more as he continued.

"He used to carry it in his breast pocket. That mark is from a bullet. If he didn't always haul it with him everywhere he went, he would have died that day. To bad he couldn't have padded himself from head to toe with Bibles that last day . . . .

Sam took his hand, squeezing his fingers tight. "It's not your fault."

Jonas sighed. "Yeah, I know, or so the shrinks keep tell me. So, any way, that's why I carry it. Kind of as a way to remember a good friend. Plus it's got some surprisingly current applications. Test of a true classic, I guess."

Sam, looked down at the book again. She'd never been inspired to look deeper into any religion, but then so much of theology was based on blind faith, where her brain was geared more to facts and evidence. The two ideas seemed juxtaposed.

"I should have asked before I just started digging in your things," Sam apologized.

"That's okay. What do I have to hide? Especially from you?"

Smiling, Sam leaned over and gave him another quick kiss. "Nothing, I hope."

*********

On to Part 3

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