What was she supposed to say to that? Sam felt like her heart was melting right out of her chest and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and there was a moment--a lot like those precious few seconds on the Prometheus, years ago, where she'd let herself imagine what it would be like to kiss him--where she let herself imagine what it would be like to just give in to this, to stop making excuses and just let herself make love to him for the rest of the morning, not because some crazy island thing was making them to it, but because they wanted to do it of their own free will just because they wanted to.
But just like on the Prometheus she didn't let that go on for more than a handful of seconds before she cut herself off.
She turned her face into his touch and sighed; she had to remind herself not to kiss his palm. "If I'm with you again," she said quietly, closing her eyes, "I'm not going to be able to finish my work. I already.... don't want to finish it," she admitted. She couldn't believe she was admitting it, but it was true. There was a part of her that was ready to just give it up, the part of her that just wanted to wash her hands of the mess that had been her life and just start over here. With Jack.
"If I go back and Cam doesn't get through the gate, then I'm dead and that's it. Nothing changes. Everything stays screwed up. And I'm... I'm scared of that." She was a seasoned, experienced officer and she shouldn't be afraid of that, afraid of death, and yet she was, simply because it was so stupid and senseless and pointless. If she knew that her dying was actually going to make a difference, it would be different, but she had no guarantee that it would, and she didn't want to face that when she could just stay here, forget about the timeline, and have with Jack what she could never have anywhere else. "I'm scared of going back to that and never knowing what it's like to be with you because I want to be with you, not because of some island... thing... but if I do know, I'll never give it up."
Why the hell was this so hard? Had she not done enough denying herself in the last decade or so to earn herself this one little allowance?
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But just like on the Prometheus she didn't let that go on for more than a handful of seconds before she cut herself off.
She turned her face into his touch and sighed; she had to remind herself not to kiss his palm. "If I'm with you again," she said quietly, closing her eyes, "I'm not going to be able to finish my work. I already.... don't want to finish it," she admitted. She couldn't believe she was admitting it, but it was true. There was a part of her that was ready to just give it up, the part of her that just wanted to wash her hands of the mess that had been her life and just start over here. With Jack.
"If I go back and Cam doesn't get through the gate, then I'm dead and that's it. Nothing changes. Everything stays screwed up. And I'm... I'm scared of that." She was a seasoned, experienced officer and she shouldn't be afraid of that, afraid of death, and yet she was, simply because it was so stupid and senseless and pointless. If she knew that her dying was actually going to make a difference, it would be different, but she had no guarantee that it would, and she didn't want to face that when she could just stay here, forget about the timeline, and have with Jack what she could never have anywhere else. "I'm scared of going back to that and never knowing what it's like to be with you because I want to be with you, not because of some island... thing... but if I do know, I'll never give it up."
Why the hell was this so hard? Had she not done enough denying herself in the last decade or so to earn herself this one little allowance?