Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.
Okay, the end of a certain episode of a certain show - that starts with 'A' and ends in 'lias' - was so frustrating that I simply had to write a Sam and Jack version with the ending I wanted ;)
Spoilers for 'Point of View' and I guess also for the Alias episode 'The Counteragent' (season two, episode seven - though this ruins nothing of the plot). Future fic. Feedback would be loved.
*
He was being stupid. *Really* stupid. He would have thought the fact that he knew he was being stupid would have made him act *not* stupid, but ohhhhhh no. He was still being stupid.
The thing was...well, in his life there were lots of 'things'. This particular thing, however, was more thingy than most.
Okay, that just sounded dumb.
Theme of the evening then.
He should have been feeling more in either direction - happy *or* sad. Maybe happy because as of twenty-three minutes ago he no longer worked for the Air Force and those pesky, emotion-restricting regs just weren't an issue anymore. Or maybe sad because as of twenty-three minutes ago he no longer worked for the Air Force, and was losing without a doubt the most amazing job he'd ever had.
But instead of either of those he was feeling distinctly...blah. Disappointed. Mostly at himself.
The reason, of course, was at the other end of the gate room, currently conversing with Teal'c. A few minutes ago she'd been talking to Daniel, and a few minutes before *that* she'd been laughing about something with Jonas.
So yeah, maybe he'd been watching her every move since she'd arrived.
*Maybe*.
She was wearing her dress uniform of course, as the situation dictated - just as he was wearing his. Before meeting her he'd always thought them a little too much, but after seeing how good she looked in hers that suddenly wasn't an issue.
So she was looking happy, beautiful, and purely Carter.
Man he was feeling depressed.
But he was also feeling guilty. Hence the reason he wasn't walking up to her and doing precisely what he'd wanted to do for a disturbingly long time.
"Jack?"
Jacob. That was Jacob standing next to him. Jacob, who for once had actually managed to arrive on time for something. Not that he could blame the guy - the nature of the Tok'ra being what it was - and he could appreciate the fact that he had, at least, turned up.
Yanking his gaze away from the guy's daughter, he turned to face 'the guy'. "Jacob?"
He was sipping at a glass of punch (though Jack wondered if having Selmak in his head negated the effect of any alcoholic ingredients), so when he spoke he was actually speaking *in* to the glass.
Jack still heard him, loud and clear:
"Instead of staring at her all evening, why not do something about it?"
What little there was of Jack's brain turned into mush. "Huh?"
"Seriously, why not go up to her and say something? Do something?"
Was he in an alternate reality? He could have sworn Hammond had ordered that mirror be destroyed... "Jake, are you *encouraging* me?" Part of him was a little wary about asking that, but hey - he really did need to know.
Predictably, Jacob's expression darkened. "Not exactly. I think one of the prerequisite's of being a father is that you don't exactly encourage *anyone* to do *anything* with your daughter."
Oh yeah. Good time to be reminded of exactly whose dad Jacob was. Best not to mention that. "But?" There had to be a but. He simply couldn't be imagining it. His imagination wasn't that good.
"But...well, you've been standing here moping for the last ten minutes, and it's so unlike you that frankly I just want you to get it over with."
Unlike him? "Hey, I'll have you know that I mope all the time."
"But only in regards to Sam?"
"Yes!" Uh, damn. He hadn't meant to say that, and Jacob was looking way too pleased with himself.
"Newsflash, Jack - you don't have to mope anymore. There's nothing wrong, in the way, etcetera, etcetera, the door is open, the engine is revving, the field is ready to be-"
"So help me Jacob, if you say 'planted'..."
He grinned again. "Get off your ass and do something!"
Oh he'd like to. He'd *really* like to. And this was an incredibly uncomfortable conversation. "Not that easy. I have some...stuff to work out." Jack didn't look at her dad as he said that; instead deliberately glancing away, focusing on the gate.
"Stuff?"
"Yeah. Stuff." He wasn't about to go into detail. Noooo way.
"You mean like the reason you retired?"
*Damn*! His gaze skidded away from the table and thwacked into Jacob's; was he *psychic* now? "What reason?"
Jacob shrugged, pretending to have an interest in the people milling around the gate room. "The fact that your knees finally crapped out. The fact that *they* were the reason you retired."
And the fact that Carter wasn't.
So yeah. There was the guilt - irrational as it was. And before he 'did' anything, he really had to get over it.
Jacob kept talking. "Do you really think she's going to be offended that you did the right thing all these-Sam!"
One serious case of whiplash later, Jack was staring into the eyes of his former 2IC. Damn, how hadn't he seen that coming? How hadn't he seen *her* coming?
Oh, bad terminology...
Ahem. "Carter."
"Sir," She nodded, then frowned. "Uh, Ja...sir."
This was gonna be fun. Not. "Carter." Hmm. Broken record O'Neill.
Jacob muttered something unpleasant, shook his head, and walked away.
"So," Carter began, seeming vaguely uncomfortable. "What are you planning to do with your retirement time?"
He almost said "You."
Thankfully he didn't. "Uh...don't know, really. Spend more time at the cabin obviously, but I don't know if even I could live there full time."
"Guess it'd get pretty lonely," She pondered.
He couldn't help it - everything she said was thoroughly analysed and dissected. Was she fishing for a fishing invitation? Was she just being friendly? Was he being unbelievably pathetic? "Guess it would," He agreed carefully.
Those psychic abilities of Jacob's would really come in handy right about now, especially when she began talking again.
"Well, I know this is your retirement party but I really do have to check on something in my lab. See you later, sir."
There was a lot he didn't know, but he *did* know an escape route when he heard one.
Just after she turned away and began to leave, Hammond appeared as if suddenly pinging into existence next to him. Not that he really *saw* the General; even as his former commanding officer said something about "an inebriated Kelownan," Jack's gaze was focused entirely on her retreating form as it suddenly struck him:
Jacob was right. What the hell was he doing? Sure, while there were good and *real* reasons to do nothing he held back, but now?
The only thing stopping him was him.
So he moved, stepping away from Hammond though still not looking at him. "Excuse me, sir."
Hammond could have smiled knowingly and said, "Of course, Jack."
He could have spluttered his outrage at being largely ignored and then brushed aside.
He could have done nothing at all.
Jack didn't know and - for the first time in his life - didn't care, either. He just kept walking, trying to keep her back in his line of sight, brushing off several people who tried to wish him well (he was sure Thor would understand later), leaving the gate room, ignoring anyone who said hello, his pace increasing as he tried to catch up with the glimpse of blonde hair he kept seeing at every turn.
Always just too far away, never quite close enough.
Elevator. She was going to reach the elevator soon, and though he knew he could follow up after her, it was suddenly very important for him not to lose track of her at all. He began jogging, not caring that his knees complained, seeing her swipe her pass through the reader, the doors opening and her stepping inside.
He didn't know why but he seemed unable to speak, call out, *anything* so he jogged even faster, reaching out a hand as the elevator doors slid shu-
Yes!
Grasping onto the edge of the doors now with both hands, he firmly pushed them apart.
Carter, inside the elevator, stared at him.
She didn't say "Sir?"
She didn't say anything.
Still standing between the doors, preventing them from closing, he was going to say something but...what? There was nothing he could think of that wouldn't sound cheesy, clichéd, or simply not him.
So he didn't speak either. He didn't say anything at all.
Instead he moved, releasing the doors, stepping inside the elevator and hearing - but not really acknowledging - the clang of metal on metal. She didn't back away as he moved closer, didn't object as his hands cupped either side of her face, didn't pull away as he pushed her, gently, against the wall.
Carter, being Carter, simply smiled as she lifted an arm, pressed a hand against the back of his neck, and guided his mouth down to hers.
Because talking, right now?
*So* overrated.
~FINIS