Title: The Weight of Non-Existent Years
Author: beatrice_otter 
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rating: G
Characters: Teal’c, Sam Carter
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Unending
Word Count: 683
Written For: choc_fic Round II, February 27
Prompt: Teal'c/Sam (gen or ship): sparring - weight of non-existent years
Betaed by: </lj>redbyrd_sgfic 
Remixed as: The Weight of Non-Existent Years (The Gravity Remix) by butterflykiki


The day before Colonel Samantha Carter leaves for her new post in the Pegasus galaxy, Teal’c comes to her and asks if she will spar with him. She hedges for a few seconds—there are many details still to be accomplished before she may leave them, leave him—but in the end she acquiesces with a smile and slips from her chair to accompany him.

It is a familiar ritual—to him, at least. On the Odyssey, she had buried herself in science and guilt, to the exclusion of all else, including physical health. Daniel Jackson had done likewise with the Asgard cultural data. Colonel Mitchell had brooded and exercised obsessively. Vala had distracted herself by distracting Daniel Jackson. General Landry had grown a garden. Teal’c—Teal’c had taken care of Samantha even when she would not take proper care of herself.

Now, Colonel Carter does a few stretches to warm up and prepare for their match, as Teal’c does the same. She speaks of Atlantis, her new command, trivia about the scientists she will be working with. Nothing of consequence. In return, Teal’c speaks of training simulations planned for the newest batch of SGC recruits, of currents among the Jaffa now that the Ori are gone. Nothing of consequence.

On the Odyssey, they had been silent at first. Samantha, oppressed by her continued failure, had been uncharacteristically quiet. Teal’c, taciturn by nature and training, had not pressed. Until one day the words that Samantha had been burying deep inside herself exploded outwards, full of frustration and fear, and hope. And tears. They did not spar that day, nor the next. On the third day they began again, blows and words in counterpoint as in the music Samantha began to teach herself to play. They did not speak of the trivial details of their lives on Odyssey; each day was much the same. Samantha spoke of growing up as a motherless, math-focused girl on a series of military bases in the 1970’s, of attending the Air Force Academy, an institution not known for its friendliness to female cadets. In return, Teal’c spoke of Bra’tac’s training, of walking the tightrope between Apophis’ demands and his own conscience. In the fifth year he had realized, with some shock, that Samantha now knew him better than anyone in his whole life. Better than Bra’tac. Certainly better than Shaun’auc, Drey’auc, or Ishta.

Now, Colonel Carter finishes with her stretches and falls silent, signals her readiness to begin. She waits for him to strike, taking all the advantage defense buys her, biding her time before attacking. Her strength is formidable for a human woman, and her skills are the result of ten years of fighting with Earth’s greatest soldiers against the galaxy’s greatest warriors. She is still no match for Teal’c, but she does not give an inch. Her blows feel light on his skin, though he knows she is not ‘pulling her punches.’ As a human, and female, her best strength is, like the span of years allotted to her, considerably less than any other warrior he has trained in his time. Yet she makes no apologies for this fact, and uses what she has with a high degree of skill.

He has sparred with her countless times, both in the world she remembers and in the timeline that never was. Yet now he finds himself caught off-guard, under- and over-estimating her by turns. For the last few decades of their time on Odyssey, her body was too fragile and weak for serious combat; before that, years of sparring daily with him had honed her skills far beyond where they are now. He must be constantly on guard to respond to Colonel Carter as she is, not as he remembers her.

Colonel Carter lands a blow solidly, one she should not have been able to. Teal’c is almost knocked down. He counters it, forces her back, and they separate, circling. “You okay, Teal’c?” she says, frowning. “You seem a bit preoccupied.”

“I am fine, Colonel Carter,” he says, missing the woman standing in front of him.