This was it.

 

The last straw.

 

No, literally.  It was the last straw.  Sam Carter stood looking bewildered at the nearly empty straw container sitting on the counter that was strewn with torn napkins, empty ketchup packets and dirty salt containers.  The last straw was broken in the middle.  Was there anything more useless than a straw that had a hole in the middle?  Funny- it didn’t work without a hole on either end, but a hole in the middle rendered it worthless. 

 

Realizing she had contemplated the mechanics of straws for about as long as it had taken her to decide what to order at the fast food place just minutes before, she took the lid off of her chocolate shake and drank it straight from the cup.  Never let it be said that a doctor of astrophysics couldn’t work around a simple problem- being strawless. 

 

There were other “less”es in her life, too.  She contemplated these with equal seriousness: boyfriend-less, child-less, *life*-less.  Of course, if she solved the first, it would lead to fixing the second and third problems, as well.  Not that it bothered her to be alone.  In fact, she had always been an introvert.  Even as a child, she preferred the solitary corner of the playground to the loud games and sports on the field.  Not that she wasn’t social, or a fine athlete, just that she liked the stories she made up in her head.  Probably a defense mechanism from moving around too much- the friends in her head were always with her. 

 

Strolling out into the parking lot, shake nearly half gone, she remembered the last time she had pulled into this particular lot to order this particular treat: the last time an invitation had come in the mail.  It was a few years ago, and although it was for a bridal shower rather than the baby shower invitation that had arrived in today’s mail, the feelings were the same.  Friends her age had husbands and children and *lives.*  She had a career, but so did many of her friends.  Now, they weren’t traveling to other planets and saving the world, but they were making important contributions to medicine, education and business.  And they were married.  With families. 

 

Well, didn’t she have a family?  Of course.  Turning the key in the ignition, she gave thought to just how much of a family she had.  A flesh-and-blood one for sure, but also, relations of a different kind- no less strong or real.  Maybe even more so.  That was worth the trade-off, wasn’t it? 

 

Or was it?

 

Pulling out of the parking lot and heading home, she looked up into the most beautiful of sunsets.  Not the ordinary faint pinks and blues, but deep reds and oranges.  She briefly wondered what it would look like from a certain rooftop-viewing area.  With a certain someone.  The one person always ordering her to get a life.  The one person she actually wanted to get a life with.  The one that could lead to children.  To another family all their own.

 

If she had to testify in court, she would have sworn that the car made the left turn rather than the right that would have led to her street all on its own.  She didn’t remember getting into the left lane, turning on her left signal or turning the wheel in a left direction.  And she certainly didn’t recall pulling in front of a certain house just moments later. 

 

Damn.

 

Now what?

 

She was sitting in her car.  Outside his house.  Shake completely gone.  The sunset at its peak.  And?

 

And what?

 

The options were always the same- break the rules and risk court martial.  Leave a job she loved and risk regretting it, or worse yet, being resentful for years to come.  Either way, her career was surely doomed.  The one thing that she had would have to be jeopardized in order to secure the things she didn’t.  How many times had she gone round this particular wheel?  Just about every time she got reminded of the things she was missing out on.  The things that were growing increasingly more important.  She wanted to be “Mom” and “Honey” just as much as “Major” or “Doctor.”

 

Strike that.

 

*More than*.

 

Her door swung open, her feet started walking, and lo and behold, the next time she looked up, it was to see a ladder leading to a wooden platform.  She knew he was up there.  Couldn’t see him.  Couldn’t smell him (that was probably good).  Couldn’t hear him.  Couldn’t taste him (that would have to change).  But she could *feel* him.  And at that moment, the ability to sense his presence meant more to her than her Ph.D. and military career combined.  Definitely time for that “life” stuff.

 

She climbed up the rungs.  Peaked her head about the top and was greeted in the usual way, “Carter.”

 

“Sir.”

 

“I wondered how long you were going to sit in your car.”

 

He couldn’t see her from where he was, so how had he known?  Must have that sixth sense thing going on, too.  “I was finishing my shake.”

 

“Chocolate?”

”Is there any other kind?”

 

“Not for you.”

 

When had they learned each other so well?  It was like a favorite novel.  You knew the story, backwards and forwards, but each time you read it, you found something you missed.  Something that made the story better.  More real.  And you found that you couldn’t wait until the next time.  Until you found the next surprise waiting on the familiar pages. 

 

She spoke a few minutes later, neither minding the preceding silence, “It’s a beautiful sunset.”

 

For the first time since her arrival, he stopped his examination of the sky above and looked at the woman next to him.  There had been countless sunsets in the six years they had been working together, but this was the first one she had come to watch with him.  Not sure whether to continue a dialog or resume his study of the rapidly fading skyline, he grabbed a blanket from behind him and handed it to her.

 

She wordlessly took it and wrapped it around her shoulders.  The shake combined with the chilling night air was making her shiver.  She hadn’t even noticed.

 

“What are you doing here, Carter?”

 

“I’m not sure.”

 

Okaaaaaaaaay.

 

“I started thinking and I couldn’t stop.”

 

“Nothing new there.”

 

They looked at each other with grins on their faces.  Eyes quickly fluttered away.  Looking up.

 

“I think my priorities have changed.”

 

As if that didn’t make his heart beat faster.

 

“I think I want to try that life-thing everyone keeps talking about.”

 

He really didn’t know what to say.  Nothing new there either.

 

“I guess I don’t really know how to start.”

 

He forced his eyes toward her figure.  She looked the same.  She smelled the same.  She even sounded the same.  But this wasn’t the woman he had said goodbye to last night after the de-briefing.  It wasn’t the woman he had worked every day with for the past six years.  This was the woman he dreamed about.  The woman he wanted a future with.  Maybe even kids with.  Granted, they were actually the same person, but the latter had different priorities than the first.  Just like the person sitting next to him.  He didn’t know what had changed, but rather just *knew* that something had.  This wasn’t *his* Carter; it was Sam- the one he might have in an entirely different way. 

 

The one that would have *him*.

 

“Then just start at the beginning.”

 

She drew in a deep breath, and did just that.  “The last straw had a hole in it.”