samandjack.net

Story Notes: Matter of Tact 08: Email: randomleaves@yahoo.co.uk

Archive: SJD, please

A/N: F.R.I.E.N.D.S, anyone? Set three weeks after 'Defenses'. Also, thanks to Melly and Emry. And.... Suz, Nanda, Michelle, A.j., Jen, JennyLouise, Vicki, Newromantic and Clara, in no particular order. *wibble*


"A cat."

"Yeah!"

Jack sat back in his chair with a thump, his concerned expression relaxing into a smile. "You called me out here because your girlfriend wants to get a cat," he stated.

Jonas cleared his throat. "She wants to get a cat with *me*. It'll be *our* cat."

"But it'll stay at her place."

"Uh huh."

Completely unable to talk about this seriously, Jack decided some teasing was needed. "And, what? You'll get it on the weekends?"

"Jack..." he complained, even though he was smiling, "I know it sounds ridiculous but, you know, the most serious relationship I had on Kelowna was with my mother."

Trying to stop being amused - after all, Jonas genuinely thought he was having problems - Jack straightened his face. "Jonas, do you think you're ready for a cat?"

He couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud.

"No! I mean... sure, I spend a lot of time at her place..."

A lot of time? As far as Jack knew, Jonas only returned to base to go to work.

"... but it's not like I *live* there..."

Sure. You keep telling yourself that, buddy.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for this kind of commitment. We haven't been dating for long."

Jack wondered what kind of calendar Jonas went by, because he was pretty sure it had been more than a year. By Jack's standards, that was a long time.

"Jonas, it's a *cat*. It's not like you're proposing. Not unless cats have some kind of Kelownan significance that I've missed out on," he added, thoughtfully.

"Actually, we didn't have any cats," Jonas admitted, glancing around the near empty bar to see if anyone was nearby enough to overhear. Still being cautious, he continued, "They were wiped out by our ancestors."

Jack leaned forward. "Wiped out? Did you eat them or something?"

"No. From what our historians could work out, cats were feared creatures, so much so that they were culled."

"Weird." And didn't Ancient Egyptians fear cats, too? Hell, that was Daniel's field of expertise, not his. Certainly not any longer. "Um, you don't fear cats, though, do you?"

"No! No. Besides," Jonas elaborated, picking up a handful of nuts and eating them one by one, "Becky wants to get a kitten."

"Right. I suppose," Jack took a deep breath - really, this was the most ridiculous conversation he'd ever had, "I suppose you could tell her... you could say that, where you come from, cats hold a more sinister significance than they do here and that you're not comfortable with the idea."

God, Sam would be in hysterics. Had she been here. Had she been here and been herself, that is.

Jonas nodded, considering the suggestion. "I could," he said, seriously.

"Or you could tell your beautiful, intelligent and frankly *saintly* girlfriend that you're a commitment phobic... foreigner... who can't handle the thought of getting a cat because it implies you have more invested in this relationship than you are ready to." Jack raised his eyebrows sharply. "Jonas, you're being an idiot."

The young man blew out a defeated breath. "Yeah. I know."

"I mean... really."

"Believe me, I've had this from Daniel, from Teal'c, Janet and even from Sam. Hey. What's up with her?"

"With Sam?" Jack picked at his beer label, suddenly needing something to do with his hands. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, for two months I never saw the two of you separate during our downtime and suddenly - well, Sam worked in her lab all last weekend. On Tuesday, she went out with Janet and Cass. You and Teal'c watched that really boring hockey game. Wednesday, Daniel dragged us to some museum thing. And the rest of the week, Sam spent at work. I would have thought you two would have taken off - it's the first downtime we've had since Christmas. Don't you have a cabin you're desperate to take her to?"

Jack considered his fishing gear, permanently stored in the back of his truck.

He peeled half of the beer label off. "We've both been busy. I've seen her." Sort of. If you counted quick, rough fumbles in the dark and the occasional uncomfortable breakfast silence.

"Jack? Something's wrong, isn't it?"

He closed his eyes. "I don't know. I have no idea. She's been acting so strangely." He reached up and rubbed his hands through his hair, and looked into Jonas's earnest, worried face. Trying not to reveal too much - it was called his *private* life for a reason - he chose his words carefully, "I think this - we're - not what she expected."

Jonas frowned slightly. "You know, she's been acting weird at work, too. Quiet."

"Sam?" Sam and quiet didn't exactly go. At least, it hadn't used to.

"Mmm. Plus, she's stopped eating with us. And she spends a lot of time reading old reports in her office."

"Old reports? Why?"

Jonas shrugged. "I don't know. The only time Daniel asked, she got kind of snappish. She's busy. To tell you the truth, I figured she was spending so much time at work during downtime in order to get some lab time in."

"She did mention that she wasn't getting much time there," Jack said softly, mentally trying to put the pieces together. "But if that was it, why didn't she just tell me? I would have understood."

"Maybe she just forgot." He shook his head. "We've had a couple of rough... jobs recently."

"What? What do you mean 'rough jobs'?"

"You know I can't give you the details.."

Jack brushed that aside swiftly. "Fine. Then give me the bare minimum."

Nervously, Jonas paused. "Um... well, Daniel got himself into.. trouble in the first one."

"Nice to see things haven't changed."

Jonas smiled faintly. "True. Sam took it kinda hard. I think she blamed herself."

"I know how that feels."

"Daniel did keep apologizing, though. He felt really guilty. He'd misjudged the situation and Sam was forced to make some unavoidable and unpleasant decisions."

Shit. Sounded like she'd been dropped in the deep end as far as leading went. "What else?"

Shaking his head, Jonas turned his beer around on the table. "We had a hostage situation," he murmured, his voice lowered, "and things kind of... escalated. That was a bad mission. Most people survived but the losses hit all of us hard, Sam the most because she'd been in charge."

Double shit. "Has anyone asked her if she's feeling okay? Janet? You?"

"Have you?" Jonas looked up at him sharply. "You know how defensive she gets."

He was right, but Jack knew this was no time to be avoiding a fight. This was too important for that. He knew how Sam Carter worked. She needed to talk about the things that hurt the most - only this time she wasn't talking.

He was going to make her talk.

*

The second time she woke up at her desk was the last straw as far as Sam was concerned. There was no way she was sleeping there, not when she had a perfectly comfortable bed to go home to. And Jack.

Wincing at that last thought, she nonetheless started switching off all the machines in her lab and stacking up the reams of papers she'd been using for her research. Only then did she think to check her watch.

"Shit." Okay, there was no way Jack was going to be awake. She might as well go to her own place. Besides, it wasn't as if things between her and Jack were exactly comfortable anyway.

Another thing that was all her fault.

Sighing, she pressed her hands to her eyes for a long moment, trying not to get swallowed up again. Burying herself in work had always worked in dulling whatever pain she was feeling, albeit temporary. Only, she always forgot the temporary part.

She switched off the lights and walked out into the corridor. The early hour partially explained the surreal quietness of Sublevel 19 but Sam had noticed in recent months that the General had been relaxing the late night and early morning shifts. The opening of the off-world training facility had put a strain on resources but, hopefully, the new recruits would serve the SGC well.

The drive to her house was swift - no traffic, after all - and as she walked up her drive she noticed that she'd left her living room light on that morning. She'd crept out of Jack's pre-dawn the previous morning and only spent fifteen minutes at her house before she left to go to work. What a waste of electricity.

Jack, she realized, knew something was up. She'd been waiting for him to ask and in desperation had done everything she could think of to distract him. Sex, mainly. She used that in a way that Jolinar would have been proud. Not terribly romantic sex, but she was too tired to act out anything more impressive than the basics.

She missed the keyhole twice, her tired eyes swimming. She was about ready to curl up on her front porch when the key finally slid into the lock and turned. "Oh, thank God," she sighed, pushing the door open and all but falling in through her doorway.

Sam kicked her shoes off against the wall and dropped her coat on the floor. Too tired to care, she wandered down the hall to her bedroom door and pushed it carelessly open.

Oh... damn.

"I'm too tired for this," she said, accidentally speaking out loud.

"Great to see you, too," Jack murmured, watching her as she walked past him and went into her bathroom to brush her teeth. "Had a good day at work, dear?"

"Fine." She squeezed a blob of toothpaste on her brush and jammed it into her mouth, her mind racing. Had he been here all night? All day? Why was he still dressed? Had he been waiting for her? Why?

A shadow fell across the sink and she spat out her mouthful of toothpaste foam. She'd always hated it when Jonas had watched her brush her teeth, and she'd been slightly disappointed to find out that she felt the same about Jack. He'd told her she was anal and deliberately followed her into the bathroom whenever she brushed her teeth.

"You know I hate that," she told him, crossly.

"Tough. Sam, why are you working during downtime?"

Delaying her response because she really, really *needed* this conversation to go slowly so she could carefully construct answers, she swished her mouth out with water and stared down into the sink. "I always work during downtime."

"Not like this. It's half past four in the morning. Are you avoiding me?"

These quick topic changes weren't going to catch her out, she decided firmly. "Don't be ridiculous. I saw you yesterday."

"You snuck out yesterday morning. You may have seen me, but I didn't see you."

"I woke up early, Jack! I didn't want to wake you." Good. She was sounding offended. That was the right tactic.

"I wouldn't have minded," he said softly, causing her heart to flip over. "Sam, something's wrong."

Panicking, she turned to face him and all but pushed past him in her effort to get out of a room that felt like it was shrinking. "Just because we haven't seen each other in a day, you think something's wrong? Couples our age don't spend their whole time together." Like she'd know.

"So we are a couple?"

She grabbed her pajamas off her pillow and unconsciously bundled them up into her hands. "Yeah, of course we are." She threw the pajamas onto the bed.

"You're sure about that?"

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, sitting down on the edge of the bed and yanking off her socks.

"Honesty. Respect." Jack hesitated minutely before adding, "love."

Sam's breath hitched and her eyes lifted to him. The smile she summoned to deal with this wavered tellingly. "It was a rhetorical question."

He turned away and walked over to the window, looking out onto the front lawn.

Unsnapping her jeans, she let them drop to the floor before she pulled on her pajama pants. Not particularly concerned with neatness, she kicked the jeans into the corner of her room and her hand reached for the top. Not immediately grasping it, she turned and found it dangling in front of her.

"You know I haven't actually *seen* you naked in the past couple of weeks."

Color suffused her face and she reached out to grab her top from him, only to have him whisk it out of the way. "You've seen me naked," she insisted, reaching again for the top just as he pulled it out of her reach again. "What the hell is this? Play time?"

"Take your top off," he ordered. "I saw Jonas this evening."

Wrenching her sweater off and glaring at him belligerently, his second statement didn't immediately register. "Yes *sir*... what... Jonas?"

"And the bra."

"Pervert," she said through gritted teeth, reaching behind to unclip it. Faintly satisfied that his eyes drifted down to her breasts, she smiled nastily at him. "Jonas put you up to this then?"

"No." His eyes came back up. "But he did tell me a few things. And he motivated me to do something I should have done when this whole charade started. Why didn't you tell me you were having a hard time at work?"

Sam snatched her top from Jack and quickly yanked it over her head. "Jonas told you that? Gee, thanks Jonas."

His eyes danced down her torso again, and he smiled slightly. "You've put it on backwards."

Furious, she jumped up and shoved him away from her, walking out of the room and heading for the kitchen.

Jack followed, coming to stand next to her at the sink. "Sam? You've been acting weird for weeks. Sneaking out early in the morning, coming to bed late, faking an interest in sex."

"Hey! That could be your fault!" she exclaimed, knowing even as she said that it was a cheap shot. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and turned the tap on too hard so the water splashed all over the sink and her top. Which was still on backwards.

For some reason, the backwards top and the water all over the place was the last straw.

Miserably, she stared into the sink as salty tears filled her eyes.

She *hated* this. She hated everything about this. She hated arguing, she hated lying, she hated herself and she hated him.

Jack didn't say anything and the tension in the room began to ebb, to be replaced, instead, with something far worse. Pity.

His hand brushed her shoulder and she shied away, hissing, "Don't." He tried again, and she turned around and went to lean on the opposite counter, her back to him.

"Sam, *tell* me."

"You seem to be getting all you need to know from Jonas," she said bitterly, desperately trying to plug her tears with the back of her hand.

"I'd rather hear it from you."

"You know everything already." She sniffed. Ugh. She hated it when she sniffed.

"No, I don't. I know some things. Faint outlines. Sam," his arms came around her waist and he drew her close, brushing his chin over her hair, placing his mouth near her ear, "I need you to talk to me now."

*

"I never thought it would be like this," she whispered.

"No," he stated, willing himself to be patient.

"I mean, I've led teams before when you were ill or off." She swallowed and what with their close proximity and the insulation of the comforter over their heads, the sound was much louder than it should have been. "So I thought it would be like that."

Jack rubbed her back in small, circular movements. It was the type of physical comfort he offered when the verbal failed him. It often failed him. He remembered it had been the same gesture he'd used for Sara, when she had her period. The same comfort he'd given Charlie late at night if he was sick. The repetitive motion gave him something to do, made him feel like he was helping in some very small way.

"But, I guess, I always knew you would be back, that I was just a stand in. Daniel or Jonas or Teal'c would obey my orders because of the novelty of them. And in the back of my mind I would be constantly thinking: is this what Colonel O'Neill would have done?"

Nodding slightly, Jack realized that he'd never had that problem. He'd never had to replace anyone he'd known personally. "And now?"

"Now... now I still think that. Every situation I come across, I wonder what you would do. I know I shouldn't but it's automatic. And then I start arguing with myself. It's bad enough making a choice between my mind and my instincts without wondering about you and what you'd do in that kind of a situation."

"Sam -"

"Wait. I want to get it all out," she said softly, her warm breath brushing his cheek. "We've had a couple of bad missions recently. Actually, " she laughed unhappily and broke Jack's heart just a little more, "I don't think we've had a good mission yet. People have died. Innocent people have died because of the decisions I've made. I know I ought to be used to that but I'm not. It weighs on my mind. I guess before I've always been following through with your orders and so the guilt has been eased knowing that I was doing my job. But now I'm the one giving the orders to go or stay, to fight or surrender, to bargain or not. And each time it ends badly and I try to think if there was something I could have done, half afraid that I'll remember some detail that could have saved that woman's life or protected that child."

"I've got to -"

Her clammy hands slid over his mouth. "Let me finish."

Jack bit down on his tongue, though he wanted to shout. He wanted to shout that this was normal, that she was normal, that she didn't need to worry. But he would let her finish because it was clear enough that she had to.

"As for the rest of SG-1, I'm having problems differentiating between being a friend and being their CO. With the possible exception of Teal'c, they look at me as a friend first, always, and the expressions of surprise on their faces when I give strict orders would be funny if it wasn't so honest. Half the time Daniel ignores me, Jonas gives me a huge grin as if the very idea of me ordering him around is amusing. The rest of the time they argue with me. It's just... so frustrating. I give them a direct order and they'll ignore it. Or they'll tell me I'm wrong. And sometimes, sometimes I'm really not. On the few occasions when I know I'm not, Daniel or Jonas will seemingly go out of their way to prove that there's a better way to handle things. And the last time Daniel did it, he nearly got Teal'c killed."

She shifted closer, if possible, to him. "They don't see me as their CO, Jack. Not like you. You were, from the start of each friendship, the leader. You gave the orders and while Daniel may not always have obeyed, at least he respected you for what you were. I'm always going to be their friend first. Hell, I *liked* that. I cultivated a friendship with both of them, but now I don't know what to do. I've tried backing off recently - not eating with them or chatting after the briefings - but they just pass it off as me being in a mood."

Unable to speak - literally as well as figuratively; she still had her hand over his mouth - Jack slid his hands under her top and rubbed his thumbs on either side of her spine. Mentally, he was thinking of ways to kill Daniel. Jonas, too, but Daniel had more background and should know better.

He wondered why he missed them all so much, knowing how much trouble they could be.

"And then... there's the scientist side of it all. I joined the USAF because it was the best way to get into NASA. It may also have had a little something to do with my father," she admitted quietly, " but essentially it was to get into NASA. Not because I wanted to be a soldier, even though the... the structure and logic of it appealed to me.

"When I was assigned to the Stargate project, what thrilled me the most was the technology. The wonder. The possibility that there was more technology out there like that. And for over ten years of my life, that's what inspired me. Sure, fighting the war with the Goa'uld was incredibly important, but that was tied up with the discoveries, the scientific laws we were breaking, the impossibilities."

She sucked in a breath. "Dammit, I miss going through the wormhole to a nice, boring planet and being able to absorb myself in soil samples, knowing that you were watching out for us. That was my job, that was yours. I was the science geek.

"Now, I'm the boss. I have to keep an eye on everybody at all times. I don't get to wander off to investigate a new power source purely because I want to. When we come back, I go to the de-briefing, I go to the post de-briefing with just me and General Hammond. I type up reports, collate information, risk assessments, go to more meetings with other COs, with the General. If a mission goes badly - and they all have - the work doubles. Loss assessments, re-evaluations, extra de-briefs, mission analyses, write ups. There's no time any more. Dr Carter never gets a look in. The General doesn't turn to me and ask me to work something out - he hands it to one of the other scientists, not me. And I *hate* that. I *hate* this.

"Jack, I just don't think I'm cut out to do this."




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