samandjack.net

Story Notes: S/J romance, kinda... ah, you know what I mean... I hope...

Summary: Jack returns from "Paradise Lost" and deals with Sam...


She didn't flinch when the ship landed near the clearing, not far from the Stargate.

She didn't flinch when O'Neill stepped out from the hatch, grinning widely as he spotted his teammates.

She didn't flinch when she instinctively dialed up SGC, slamming her hands down on each symbol until they were red and sore.

"Carter - so how'd it feel to be in charge?"

She flinched as she stepped through the Gate; the moisture on her face disappearing as the wormhole swept her up in a cold embrace.

****************

General Hammond was standing at the bottom of the ramp with a wide grin. "Good to have you back, Colonel." He nodded at the trio. "I don't think we need an official debriefing on this - but I'd like to hear your side of it, Colonel O'Neill. Two hours?"

"Sure, as soon as the good Doctor finishes poking me full of holes." The raspy voice echoed around the Gate Room as he clomped his way down to the door. She couldn't stop staring at the grid at her feet. "I'm more hungry than anything else, to be honest. And dying for a decent cup of coffee."

Her feet led her through the familiar routine, her mind set on autopilot. The armory to return her weapons, a very short stop in the infirmary for another check - done by an assistant since everyone was pretty well focused on the Colonel and his physical condition - then the locker room for a long, hot shower and a vain attempt to refocus.

She had dropped the ball, so to speak. Fumbled on the goal line. Overshot the hole. Missed the open net. Fill in your favorite sports phrase here.

Should have been like shooting fish in a barrel.

Her head shot up at the thought, taking the full blast of the hot water spray straight into her face. Fishing.

The locker room had emptied by the time she had retreated from the safety of the shower; the evening shift safely home and the next shift immersed in the tedious routine of a night shift that never saw the night sky.

Wrapping the regulation threadbare towel around her body she sat down on the cool bench, staring into her open locker.

There wasn't a lot of room for personal items in these lockers - smaller even than the ones she remembered from school, if that were possible. But a few small photographs had made their way onto the inside of the door; tucked protectively into the corners.

Her mother. Old and faded with time... but still the smile she always saw in her dreams.

Her father. Definitely not old and faded. An old photograph of the two of them when he was still unaware of her assignment; grumbling constantly of how she had no ambition. No drive to get to the top, to take a command position.

Command.

One of SG-1, snapped by a staff photographer after a mission. Teal'c standing right behind her with that stony stare that had broken lesser men. Daniel with one hand halfway to his face to adjust his glasses; mouth open as he attempted to stop the picturetaking.

And her CO.

Her Commanding Officer. The man who she had spent years with, supposedly learning from the best that the Air Force had to offer. General Hammond himself had said so enough times to her father, that O'Neill would be a better tutor for Captain Carter than any amount of classroom training or simulated battles.

Only problem was... she sucked at it.

Horribly.

A breeze drifted through the locker room, raising goosebumps on her skin.

Hammond had sat there, nodding the entire time that Dr. Lee had been going through his tirade; not looking at her. Finally the scientist had paused for breath, giving the General a chance to get a word in.

"Duly noted." He glanced down at the typewritten page. "I'll be in touch with you later." Thankfully Lee had taken the rather abrupt dismissal and had strutted out; a single backwards glance at Carter signalling his apparent victory.

"Major Carter..."

"Sir, I can explain..."

"Explain what?" His hand slid the report to one side into a thick stack of paper. "I think it's pretty obvious that what we have here is just a case of miscommunication. I somehow doubt that Dr. Lee will be pursuing this." His eyes met hers, confirming the statement. "You've been under a lot of stress lately, so it's not surprising that you reacted this way."

"But..."

He put up a hand. "Don't sweat it, Major. Lee's been pushing buttons for months and you just happened to be his latest jousting partner."

But she knew there was more to it than that. Maybe it wouldn't make it into the official record, but she knew about the "other" records people kept in their minds. Records that would determine her future faster than anything she could say. Or do.

Because when it came down to it, actions did speak louder than words at times.

Staring at the photograph she reached out, drawing her fingers down the slick surface. After all that training, all those conversations...

"Carter?"

Her eyes shot wide open, frozen on the locker door.

"Sir?" The squeaky voice shot up even higher than she had ever heard herself.

"Ah..." A shadow dislodged itself from the doorway, stepping towards the bench. Sitting down with his back to hers, O'Neill rubbed the back of his head.

"Didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

A shy chuckle. "Well, I'm a bit out of uniform."

"Oh. I hadn't noticed." He rubbed the palms of his hands on his knees, rubbing them raw on the rough military fabric. "I thought I'd find you here. Teal'c sort of pointed me this way."

"Oh." She tugged the thin towel a bit higher, trying to ignore the body heat warming her from behind. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, just fine. Fraser got her five pints of blood and cleared me with a vitamin shot. Seems that drug or whatever cleared itself out pretty well."

"Good." A loose lock of hair fluttered into her face. "Ah..."

"I spoke to Hammond as well." He shifted on the bench, his shirt almost touching her toweled back.

"Sir, I..." Her shoulders slumped as she looked into the darkness of the locker in front of her. "It wasn't as easy to lead as the manuals say."

He chuckled behind her. "I could have told you that, Carter. No need to test your theories in the wild. And with Lee, of all people..."

"It wasn't Lee, sir - it was me." Her shoulders slumped. "My father would be furious. Will be furious."

"What, because you didn't blow him away? I'd have at least considered the idea..." Another soft chuckle. "I mean, Lee... I'm surprised that Teal'c hasn't broken his arm by now."

"Sir..."

"Major..."

She rubbed her face with both hands, feeling the heat in her cheeks. "I just don't... know about being a leader; being in charge."

"Of what?" His voice shot up an octave on the last syllable, his head almost smacking into the back of hers as he suddenly sat up straighter on the wooden bench.

"Of SG-1. Of anything."

"Oh, Carter..." His right hand reached up to rub the back of his head again but "missed" - brushing against her still-damp hair in a rhythmic motion. "There's more to being a good leader than just being a witch in the field. Trust me, I know."

"I know sir, but..." Against her better judgement she tilted her head back a fraction, letting his fingers weave through her hair with even more freedom. "I blew it. Field command is something that we're trained for; something we're supposed to be good at automatically..."

His snort echoed in the empty locker room. "Please tell me that Jacob didn't feed that line to you." The thick fingers continued their gentle motion. "I've seen Academy grads buckle the first time out and believe you me, they're supposed to 'know' better."

"I guess so." Closing her eyes she reveled in the darkness and the soothing touch, the fingers lightly dancing over her ears at random intervals.

"And just because you don't think you cut it in the field doesn't mean you don't cut it elsewhere." O'Neill's voice dropped down a notch. "You still rule in the lab, Major. When you call the shots in the Control Room, the men listen. When it counts, I know you'll take charge and make it work."

She nodded, breaking the contact for a second before leaning back again. Resting her back against his she tugged the thin towel a bit tighter. "I was just too... emotional."

"You thought you'd lost me." A quiet whisper in the darkness.

"Yes."

"Like we lost Daniel."

"Yes."

His hand fell to his side with a weary thud. "I know that feeling, Carter. You know I've lost men before. Under my command." He let out a weary sigh. "And other times as well."

"I know, sir."

He pressed back against her, his shirt absorbing the dampness from her towel. "There's never a good time, you know. Never a right time to mourn; never a good time to deal with it; never a proper time to let go." He swallowed hard. "Never a good time for any of it."

Her hand slid back along the polished wood, finding his in the shadows. "Sorry."

"Yeah, well..." A gentle squeeze. "Leadership takes a lot more than just giving orders, Carter. Don't measure yourself by your father or by anyone else; you'll always end up coming up short."

"Sounds like the voice of experience." She murmured softly as she leaned her head back again, resting it on his shoulder.

"The bruises and aches of experience, you mean." O'Neill let out a wide yawn. "Heck, you're in charge of SG-1 more than you know..." His head rocked slowly from side to side as they just sat there in silence.

"Uh, sir..."

"Hmm?"

"I think I better get dressed." She shifted from side to side; gently pulling the damp towel away from his shirt back. "And this is the womens' locker room..."

"Hmm..." Wearily he stood up, still not facing her. He looked down to where their fingers were still intertwined; her arm now awkwardly bent backwards. "Sorry..." Releasing her, he jammed his hands in his pockets.

"Oh..." Her hands returned to her lap then slid down to grab ahold of the wooden bench as she rocked back and forth. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"You got it, Carter." Another cool breeze drifted through the locker room.

She waited a long minute before moving, and then only to draw her fingers along the glossy photograph of her teammates. Dropping the towel without a backwards glance she began to get dressed, running her fingers along the thick stitching of both her rank and the SGC on her uniform.

"Got to get those reports done before bed." She announced to no one in particular as she slammed the locker shut, staring straight ahead of her as she pulled the door open and strode into the lit hallway with a steady and confident stride.




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