decisions

Decisions Made
By
Denise

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

She stirs and I open my eyes, unable to hide the smile the creeps across my face as I watch her sleep. So long. It's been so long since I held a woman in my arms.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. There's a part of me that's screaming for attention, urging me to slow down, to take it easy.

That's not normally something that I do. Ask anyone that knows me, I'll never be known as Mister Spontaneity.

Usually, I think and plot and plan. But not this time. This time I've ignored my brain and listened solely to my feelings, especially my feelings for this woman.

She's special. I don't know how or why, but she's different from anyone else I've ever met.

Her blue eyes sparkle with amusement and intelligence and her walk gives a hint of a supreme confidence that is a part of who she is. She laughs and smiles, her sense of humor is contagious and it warms my heart, rejuvenating my soul.

I pull her close and she shifts slightly, unconsciously pressing herself into my body. She fits. I know it sounds like an odd observation, but she fits me. My arm lies comfortably across her belly; her head tucks neatly into my shoulder, just far enough away to keep her blond hair out of my mouth and eyes. Our legs tangle together and if someone were to open the door, I know they'd have a hard time telling where one body ended and another began.

I feel content right now. More content than I've ever been in this cement cavern, buried alive under countless tons of living rock. I feel guilty too. Ashamed that I betrayed her, betrayed my wife and the promises we made to each other years ago.

Logically, I know that she's gone, she has been for years. But there's still this part of me that clung to the hope that somehow we'd get back together.

That hope's been crushed now, irreparably gone and I wonder if that's why I'm doing this. Is this real or is this some rebound induced moment of insanity.

Despite a rather nomadic life, I've never been one for one night stands. Believe it or not, it's far easier to do without than to give in and then have all these tiny little emotional land mines scattered around the world.

I idly play with her hair and wonder what's going to happen next. It's amazing how this job can complicate your life. A few years ago, things were so simple. Meet a girl, date, and spend time together. There'd be the inevitable meeting of the parents and friends, the decision about whether or not to live together. Usually most of my dates never got that far. Something would happen and one or both of us would pull back, the complications of our pasts being enough to keep us apart.

But now there are more complications than winning the approval of the important people in her life, and most of those complications are mine. My job for example. Oddly enough, folks tend to get a little suspicious when you vanish for days or weeks on end. They don't understand the January tans or the strange knowing looks between me and my friends. And let's not even get into the …uniqueness of my teammates.

She would have an advantage over other women, she's already privy to the Stargate program, so that's a part of my life I wouldn't have to hide from her. But it's also a part of my life she can't be a part of anymore if we pursue this. She'd have to give up so much if we were to be together, and somehow I don't think she'd be able to pay that price without resentment eventually coming between us.

And I don't think my friends would approve of us. Maybe on the surface they'd smile and nod, but down deep, down where it really matters, they'd always have reservations. Reservations that would lead to animosity. Animosity that would eventually divide us, splitting us up and ruining SG-1.

Do I care? I mean, do I really care? Yes, they're my friends, but am I willing to let friendships cost me what may be my final chance for happiness? Will my friends still be here in twenty years to keep me warm at night or will they have moved on, found their own mates and created their own lives? Hell, will we all still be alive in twenty years?

This could be it. My last chance. The final opportunity I have to find someone to share my life with. Can I throw all that away to keep fighting an impossible battle, trying to win a war that's unwinnable? Is unending loneliness supposed to be my reward? Is solitude my prize?

No. They can't expect that of me. No one can expect me to live out my days in emotional exile. I can't do it, I won't do it.

Tomorrow I'll tell them, I'll tell them about us. I'll tell them that we're going to be together, and if they won't let her stay, then I'll go. I've done it before and I'll do it again. It's actually a lot easier than you would think, to call it quits and leave, no regrets, no looking back, just a fresh start.

She rolls over and I follow, lying on my back as she nestles against my side. "That's ok, Daniel," she says, pushing her long blond hair away from her face. "It feels good."

"Yes, it does, Kira," I say, running my hand down her bare back and pulling up the sheet, the material settling over us like a soft shroud, sequestering us in our own little world. "Yes, it does."