"Regrets" By Adrianna Laura

Hello, Happy Valentines Day everyone. I thought this would be a... *uhummmm*... fitting story for today perhaps...?

TITLE: Regrets

AUTHOR: Adrianna Laura

CATEGORY: Angst, Jack bashing... the usual.

SPOILERS: none

SEASON / SEQUEL: It doesnt matter

RATING: M

WARNINGS: Some swearing. Adult themes.

SUMMARY: Jack gets smashed.

ARCHIVE: Heliopolis yes. Yum@s site yes. Anywhere else, ask.

DATE: Feb. 14 (of course!)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own or make any money off of this story so dont sue cause all i have is my snowboard and my computer.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: A sobering thought for Valentines day. I got the idea for this story after I read the one about Jack not feeling the same about Sam when it was revealed she loved him. I liked the idea of the tables being turned better.

Regrets

The day had started so innocently. It was their day off and the Colonel had hoped he could spend it getting caught up on the paperwork that he had been neglecting for months. The nasty post-its attached to them annoyed him, it wasn't his fault he was given next to no time to ever get these things done.

He left for coffee, hoping to find someone to sympathize with him. Daniel had been in his office so he stopped in for a chat. He complained about all the work but Daniel only said that everybody had it and that he shouldn't feel singled out. Something like that any ways, he could always find a way to word it as to confuse him with all the fancy words. Needless to say, it hadn't helped Jack's frustration at all. He mouthed off. They got into another one of their fights and it had turned ugly, snowballing into an utter mess. They resorted to calling names and acting like children Well, actually, he was the one who had acted like a child. Daniel as always argued his point with facts. It was the look of utter hurt and disbelief in Daniel's eyes after he was done making fun of his dweeb-e-ness that had contributed to his drinking.

Then the General called on him, wanting to know what the hell was going on. Why had Daniel left the base with Teal'c to cool off after, hear this, he had thrown one of his "rocks" against the wall in a fit of rage. Of course Jack had one of his one liner answers, which only served to infuriate the General even more.

Hammond had had one whiff of his breath before going off in another tangent about being a responsible officer and setting an example for the other soldiers, all that crap. The General said he was lucky he was off duty or he would have his ass hauled down to the brig in a second. He then proceeded to tell him that at that moment he was ashamed to call him an officer because officers usually act with some degree of intelligence. It hurt to hear that, but Jack couldn't care less. Instead of smartening up he dug deeper in his self pity and drowned it with more booze.

He finished another shot of whiskey. Maybe it was time to go home. Yes, home would be a good idea right now. He wouldn't have to put up with all this crap and no one would be there to talk down to him.

A bad idea it turned out... not because of his imminent condition but because of the people he would meet on his way to the surface. Too bad. It wasn't any of their business what he did. He would go any ways. He stood and left the office, locking the door behind him.

"Colonel, are you feeling alright?"

"Hello Sir, how are you today?"

"Could I get you to sign off on this form, Sir?"

<Go away, all of you.> He thought to himself. He walked past them, slamming his finger into the elevator button. Nervously tapping his foot as he waited, he could feel the effects of the alcohol taking hold. He looked up, watching the lights change as the elevator changed floors. It seemed to inch its way down towards him only angering him more. He only wanted to go home. He stared at his reflection in the metal doors. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken. He looked like shit and he felt like shit.

With a ding the doors opened. He pushed his way in through the crowd of people struggling to get out and out of his way. He punched the button for ground level and prayed that his head would stop buzzing.

"Colonel? Sir? Are you okay?" came a voice from within the mass of people flooding out of the elevator.

Carter, just what he needed.

"Are you drunk?" she said incredulously, stepping back in.

"Is it that obvious? I'm not drunk anyway - just a little wired." he managed, desperately trying to make his voice sound the least bit sober.

She nodded, raising an eyebrow. "I hope you aren't planing on driving home like that." she pushed the hold button on the elevator, keeping the doors open.

"Awwww, c'mon. I can handle myself, dunn worry..." he pushed the ground level button again.

"Look at you, you're in no condition to drive. Why are you even walking around the base like this? I'm going to take you back to your office until I can arrange for one of the officers to take you home. Okay?" she held the door open for him, ushering him back out into the hall.

"Listen, Carter..." he began as she pushed him in the direction of his office. He stopped as she asked him for his keys to open the door. He mumbled and jiggled his pockets until he found them. After wrestling them out, he handed them to her. It was no use fighting her, when she was determined to make him stay. There was no way he was getting his keys back now he noted grimly. That was okay, he didn't feel like going home anyway. Why would he want to go home? He could stay here and talk to her. She would keep him company just fine.

He watched her with the keys, her delicate hands fingering through the different types and shapes that were attached to the ring. She said something to him but he didn't really pay attention, he was too preoccupied with the colour of her eyes and the way they sparkled even in the flat light of the base. For his slowness, he was rewarded with a disdainful look as she finally found the right one. She pushed the door open. He watched her with desire as she walked into the room, turning on the light and waiting for him to follow. She sighed her disapproval as the whiskey scented air met with her nose and she saw the empty bottle still on the desk.

It was getting hard for him to walk, his legs felt like lead, but jiggled like rubber. He stumbled into the room, tripping over his own feet. Carter caught him just in time, turning her head in disgust as his rank breath set on her. He wrapped his arms around her, using his excuse of falling over to touch her.

"Why don't you come in?" he breathed as he kissed her neck.

"Colonel, what are you doing?" she squeaked in surprise as she tried to pry him off of her, but he only tightened his grip.

"Just for a little while. Stay with me tonight, we both want this. I know it." he closed the door with his foot.

<Oh m'god! What the hell is he doing?> Carter watched in horror as the door closed behind them. She suddenly felt very claustrophobic, and disgusted... She desperately needed to get out of there, she needed to get him off of her, she needed to get out the door into the hall where she would be safe.

"Just, don't. Don't touch me." she pushed on his chest, only temporarily ridding herself of him. He came back, this time pushing her against the wall. He ran his hands up her sides, pinning her in. She knew he wasn't in control, that it was the whiskey talking, but that didn't help to ease her repulsion.

"I want you Sam." he kissed down her neck. Pushing her harder up against the wall. The scent of whiskey on his breath, so close to her now, was so strong that she wondered if she would get drunk just from the smell of it.

"Stop it!" she yelled at him. She wiggled down the wall to escape his roaming mouth and pushed him back. He looked at her in surprise as she had crossed the room in one movement. She stood still for a moment, catching her breath and waiting for her heart to stop pounding. He was scaring the hell out of her, what did he think he was doing? He was drunk out of his mind. He took a step towards her, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. She stepped to the side and slid past him to the door.

"I said stop it, you bastard!" she grasped at the door handle and opened it. He grabbed her arm as she ran out of the room.

"Let me go!"

"Listen. Listen to me!" he shook her, trying to make her understand. Couldn't she feel that this was right?

"Ow, stop it! You're hurting me." As she slapped him hard across the jaw. She stormed out into the hallway, running past some soldiers who had overheard her cries. He watched her go, his face flooding red as the inquiring eyes gazed upon him.

He ran a hand along his jaw, grimacing as it burned with pain.

<Well you have certainly done it this time O'Neill.> He chuckled to himself and another voice spoke. <Don't worry, she'll come back to you, they always do.>

He slammed the door to his office and staggered to his chair. He fell into it and poured himself another drink.

******

He had been in his office a long time. Until he had sobered up at least, not that he had much of a say in the matter after passing out on the couch. He stretched, trying to ignore the sore muscles that protested the movement, not to mention his throbbing head. He staggered to the desk and rummaged through one of the drawers until he found a mirror. He looked at his pathetic image staring back at him. His hair was pushed every which way with parts simply sticking straight into the air. He tried to push them down, but they refused to go after being trained that way on the couch. His eyes were still bloodshot. He decided it would be best to stay in his office until he could look halfway presentable. Plus, it wouldn't hurt if the large red line running down his left cheek would fade. What was that from anyway?

Hours passed before he could remember what had happened. <Oh god.> He thought and groaned. He ran his hands through his short hair and rested his pounding head on the desk. What have I done?

He found his way back to the couch, easing himself down, and burying his face in his hands. After a few minutes, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep with dreams of Samantha pounding him into a pulp as he didn't even try to fight back.

==

-Adrianna Laura Icq: 19471428

****Anything not nailed down is mine.****
****Anything I can pry loose is not nailed down.****
"Excellent. Release the hounds." Michael Shanks' on Mr.Burns