samandjack.net

Story Notes: Jumping onto the "Chimera" bandwagon early. I figure there are lots of ways Jack might respond to Sam's boyfriend. This is just one of them. Hope you enjoy. [Warning: this doesn't really resolve anything.]

Email: sallyreeve@blueyonder.co.uk


"Timing"

By

Sally Reeve

The meal was quiet, as they always were these days. They talked a little about the mission, and about the plans for the next day. Daniel groused about the MREs, Teal'c ate what Daniel refused to finish. And O'Neill stayed silent, eating methodically and without comment.

Sam kept her thoughts to herself, although she couldn't help smiling from time to time when she anticipated about the long-weekend of downtime ahead. She and Pete were going to the movies. She loved the movies! But she hadn't been for...oh, years. Funny that. How come she hadn't been for years? But she was going this weekend. *They* were going this weekend. Just like regular people, like a regular couple. The thought made her smile again. Who'd have thought? She seemed to be developing a life.

"Teal'c, you've got first watch," O'Neill said, slicing into her thoughts. "Daniel, second. I'll take third. Carter, you've got the morning shift."

"Yes sir."

"Don't forget the coffee," he cautioned as he rose to his feet and started to shake out his bedroll. "Black, two sugars."

She smiled. "How about some French toast with that, sir?"

"Nah, I'm watching my figure," he replied, casting her a quick, guarded look. "Get some sleep people."

And so they did, all but Teal'c bedding down for the night. It didn't take Sam long to drift off, her mind full of happy thoughts. Pete, the movies, maybe dinner after. And then...? Deep kisses, strong arms holding her... Oh *yeah*, it was gonna be a good weekend!

***

Instinctively, Sam knew it was much later when she groggily surfaced. She shivered in the dead-of-night-chill, her sluggish blood refusing to warm her as her eyes crept open in search of whatever had roused her. The fire was still burning, casting the camp in an orange glow beneath the black, starless sky. On the far side of the fire sat Daniel, sipping at a mug of coffee, the can he'd used to heat it still dangling over the flames. Opposite him, not far from where she lay, sat O'Neill. He had a long stick in his hand and was using it to prod at the burning wood.

"So it really doesn't bother you?" Daniel asked quietly, his face obscured by shadows and only lit fleetingly by the dancing flames.

O'Neill glanced over at him, eyes hidden beneath the peak of his cap. "I never said that."

"I expected you to be more, I don' t know, upset," Daniel said quietly. "I mean, I was surprised. Weren't you?"

The colonel continued poking at the fire with a stick, stirring up a swarm of sparks that died quickly in the cold night air. "Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope."

Daniel shrugged and reached for the coffee warming over the fire. "So what did I miss?"

"Miss when?"

"When I was...you know...glowing. Did something change between you and Sam? Because last thing I knew, you guys were--"

O'Neill shook his head, a small economical movement. "Nothing changed."

"Okaaaay," Daniel said softly, sinking back into silence and obviously about to let the subject drop. She didn't blame him - when the Colonel didn't want to talk he didn't talk. End of story. And part of her was relieved. She wasn't meant to hear this. In a way, she'd given up any right to hear this and she--

"Don't feel sorry for me," O'Neill warned abruptly, his quiet voice as sharp as steel.

Daniel froze with the coffee-can mid-air. "I don't."

"Good."

Then he cleared his throat, returning the pan to the fire. "Can I ask you something?"

The Colonel looked up, his eyes lost in the shadows. "Ask me what?"

"You and Sam," Daniel said softly. But not soft enough; she could still hear him. "Did you ever...?"

Her shock at the question was mirrored by the Colonel's - his whole body went rigid as he stiffly said, "Absolutely not."

"Huh," Daniel said, reaching into his pocket for the Sweet-'n'-Low he always carried. He dropped a couple into his coffee. "Really?"

"I can't believe you even asked that," O'Neill growled, stabbing at the burning logs with his stick.

Daniel shrugged, sipping his coffee and grimacing. "I can't believe you didn't."

"*What?*"

"Oh come on... I've seen the way you look at each other. I can't believe you never-- I mean, you know, at least once."

O'Neill grated out his response like a mantra. "It's against regulations."

"Since when have you cared about the regulations, Jack? Anyway, I thought they were more like guidelines...."

"You--" He levelled the fire-blackened stick at Daniel across the flames. "You don't-- That's not what it's about." Daniel said nothing, just sipped his coffee and waited. Sam suddenly had the distinct impression that Daniel knew exactly what he was doing. O'Neill was still glaring at him across the fire. "It was never about *that*."

"It wasn't?"

He jabbed the stick viciously back into the flames. "Not *just* about that."

"Then what?"

O'Neill looked up, and even though she couldn't see his eyes Sam could imagine the daggers in their depths. She didn't expect him to answer. But he did. "Respect," he said, surprising her with his soft tone. "It's about respect."

Daniel nodded slowly.

"And timing."

"Timing?"

The Colonel rose to his feet, dropping the stick into the fire. "If things ever...went in that direction, it wouldn't be for some one-night roll in the sack." He thrust his hands into his pockets and stared into the fire. "It would be-- It would be more than that," he said in a voice heavy with feeling. And then he took a deep breath and said more calmly, "Timing is everything. In a combat situation, you get the timing wrong and you're a dead man. Same thing applies."

Daniel smiled around his coffee. "But this isn't combat."

"Isn't it?" And for the first time in too long, he sounded amused.

"I don't see you fighting. Seems to me like you're in full retreat."

And this time he smiled, a crooked twitch of the lips that shouldn't have made Sam's heart flutter. But did anyway. "Is that what it looks like?" He dropped the stick into the fire. "Timing, Daniel, is everything. And now isn't the time."

"You're not afraid you'll miss your chance? I mean she's crazy about this guy. Head-over-heels."

O'Neill flinched, but it was softened by something else in his expression as he slowly pulled the cap from his head and sat down again. She could see his eyes now, with the fire dancing in their depths, and they weren't cold or angry. They were soft and warm. "You ever felt that something is so right, it just can't go wrong?"

Daniel nodded slowly. "I have."

The colonel shrugged. "So. That's it."

"I never had you pegged as a romantic, Jack," Daniel smiled, but there was only affection in his voice.

O'Neill grunted. "I'm not. Normally."

"Just can't help yourself, huh?"

He shook his head, jamming his cap back on. "Tell *no one*."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "Not even Sam?"

For a moment he didn't respond, didn't move. And then, in a voice that made her toes curl, he quietly said, "Oh, she'll find out for herself."

Her heart stopped beating, confused between anger at his arrogance, dismay that he could still make her feel so much, and a guilty anticipation that wouldn't be denied.

"Poor Peter," Daniel laughed, throwing the dregs of his coffee onto the ground. "He doesn't stand a chance."

O'Neill said nothing, his gaze moving to where Sam lay. She closed her eyes quickly, hoping he hadn't seen. "You should get some sleep," he told Daniel.

She heard her friend get to his feet, the soft rustle of his clothing barely audible over the crackle of the flames. "Yeah," he yawned. "I gotta pee first."

"Don't get lost," O'Neill warned. And although she couldn't see him, she just knew Daniel rolled his eyes in response as he stomped off into the darkness beyond their camp.

She kept her own eyes closed, her mind whirring through the conversation she'd overheard. It disturbed her that the Colonel had no faith in her relationship with Peter - as if his words doomed it to fail and doomed her to a life of pining for the one man she couldn't have. She refused to live like that. And yet as much as his words disturbed her, she couldn't deny the secret thrill she felt just knowing that, despite everything, he still wanted - expected! - that they'd be together. His faith was monumental and terrifying; she knew she didn't deserve such loyalty.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of booted feet moving around the fire towards her. O'Neill. For the first time in months she felt that familiar frisson of tension as he drew near, and she cursed herself for her weakness. But her curses were silenced as he stopped next to her and crouched down. She had to force herself to keep breathing slowly and deeply, hoping that feigned sleep would protect her from a conversation she really couldn't face. But he stayed close to her for a long moment, his presence charging her like a thunderstorm. What was he doing? Was he watching her? God, was he going to do something totally sappy? Kiss her? Touch her hair? She could feel every muscle stiffen as tension crept through her body, waiting for him to act. And then he did the last thing she expected him to do. He spoke.

"Didn't your Dad ever tell you that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves?"

Damn. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up into his face. "It wasn't so bad," she admitted. He said nothing, just watched her with guarded eyes. The warmth she'd seen before was hidden now and there was a definite wariness floating on the surface. She sat up, propping herself on an elbow. She could only think of one thing to say to him, and that was the truth. As much as she quailed at the prospect of hurting him further, she respected him too much to be anything less than honest. "Sir, what you said... ? I'm sorry, but I have to tell you, things between Pete and I are good. I mean, *really* good."

There was a flicker behind his eyes, but nothing else showed on his face. "Yeah, I got that."

"I wouldn't want you to expect that it-- Expect that I--"

His hand jerked, a small movement to silence her. "Let's not do this."

She frowned. "Sir, I can't pretend that my relationship with Peter isn't importa--"

"Ah!" he warned, raising his hand again. "Let's just...not. Okay?"

Damn, but he could be stubborn. "I deserve a life, sir. I can't just sit around waiting--"

"So go!" he agreed. "Live. Love. Fish. But just remember..." He smiled tightly, rising to his feet. "Just remember that I'm a patient man."

She stared up at him, at a loss. "Sir, you have to--"

"Sleep, Carter. You're on watch in an hour."

"But, sir--"

"Sleep. That's an order, Major."

She sighed, irritated by the way he flipped between the personal and the formal solely on his terms. And at his own convenience. "Yes, sir," she grumbled, settling back down, but not closing her eyes. She watched as he returned to his seat by the fire and threw on more wood. Flames and sparks leaped up into the air, the warm crackle a comforting sound.

Daniel returned soon after and lay down on his bedroll. And still she watched the Colonel as he sat staring pensively into the fire. He didn't move, just sat and stared. She found his steadfast presence strangely reassuring, an immovable rock in her rapidly changing life. But then, just as she was sinking towards sleep, he did move. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled something out. It was a letter, and in the firelight she could see the SGC memo header. He looked at it for a long, long time, stared at it fixedly. Then with a sigh he slowly reached out and dropped it into the flames.

From where she lay by the fire she could see the edges of the paper curl. And as the fire licked it black she just caught a glimpse of the subject heading: Letter of Resignation.

Dismay twisted painfully in her gut, chewing up her emotions until all she could feel was an aching sadness. She closed her eyes. And this time they stayed shut, holding in the tears that would otherwise fall.

Timing, he'd said. It was all about timing.

It had always been about timing.

And for them, the timing was always wrong.

~End~



End Notes: Thanks for reading! Sorry it didn't have a happy ending. Next time. J

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