*****

�Jack, you need to talk to her about this.�

�Why? It�s part of the job, and she should understand that. Hell, she�s done it!�

Daniel sat back in his office chair and rubbed his chin with one finger. �I know you�re a soldier, and you think like one. But she�s��

�A soldier,� Jack emphasized, unwilling to concede the point. �She�ll never be anything more than the rank and file if she doesn�t learn to accept some of the harsher realities.�

�Do you really believe that?�

He turned away. Of course not, Samantha Carter was nothing if not extraordinary. To imply anything less was to lie outright, and not just to Daniel. Jack pushed a hand through his hair and paced the limited distance from desk to wall. He paused in front of the counter bolted beneath the shelving and picked up a cylindrical object. It was cool and smooth as it rolled between his long fingers, providing a moniker of distraction to the distressing conversation. Daniel�s footsteps were inordinately loud as he quickly approached and whisked the artifact from his grasp. �Hey!�

�Cut that out and sit down for God sakes!� the younger man snapped irritably. �You came here for a reason.�

Jack rolled his eyes and jammed his restless hands into his pockets. �You think I was looking for a lecture?�

�Nope, just a different perspective.�

He nodded, accepting the conclusion. Daniel had been on the receiving end of his surly attitude on their recent mission to Euronda, but they had come to an understanding. A tetchy, not entirely comfortable place, but basically they were fine.

Sam was a different matter entirely.

Something cold and vaguely sickening twisted in Jack�s gut. He hated confrontation, emotional upheaval, with a passion. A level of distaste usually reserved for errant Senators or clich�d creeps with glowing eyes. In truth, facing the Goa�uld or the Replicators was preferable.

He shivered at the thought of the latter. The bugs were a new and terrifying nuisance promising boatloads of trouble for the future. Anything that could outmaneuver the Asgard deserved respect and a healthy dose of fear.

But bugs and beasties were not the point of this conversation�

Jack blew out a tired sigh. �She doesn�t want to talk to me, Daniel,� he muttered.

�How do you know?�

He turned and regarded the archeologist from beneath half closed eyelids. �I tried.�

�Oh?� Daniel�s eyebrows climbed towards his short cropped hair. �When?�

�After the mission.�

�And you�re surprised?�

�Yeah, a little,� Jack admitted stiffly. As much as he hated to �talk�, he recognized the need in others. Sam had barely looked up when he entered the locker room. When he said hello she turned glassy eyes in his direction. The skin of her cheeks and brow was ghost white and drawn tight over the bones. As if held in place by the palpable force of her will alone. The icy chill permeating the room spoke volumes about her opinion of him, the Air Force, and anyone else he cared to designate.

�I thought we should discuss what happened in the Gateroom.�

�Timing,� Daniel grumbled as he reached for his coffee cup. �Do you have any concept of tact?�

�You sound like my ex-wife.�

�Well that explains a few things now doesn�t it?�

Jack bridled at the slur but chose to let it pass. Daniel was entitled to some hostility given his behavior. �What�s your point?� he prompted.

�That you should have let it rest.�

�For how long?� he challenged.

Daniel shrugged, looking slightly uneasy beneath Jack�s intense scrutiny. �I don�t know, a few days at least.�

Jack leaned heavily on the edge of the desk. �Okay Mr. Diplomacy, it�s been three days, now what?�

�Talk to her!� The younger man barked, clearly exasperated.

�And say what?� A part of him was secretly enjoying watching Daniel implode with frustration. It wasn�t mature or professional, but Jack would take anything over the probable emotional stress of speaking to Sam.

�Well not what you just said to me that�s for sure!� Daniel snapped.

�Why not, it�s the truth.�

�But it�s not what you want to tell her and we both know that.�

�I suppose�not�� he acknowledged, the last word extending into a weary groan. �When is she leaving for San Diego?�

�Wednesday,� Daniel supplied. �But you knew that already. What the hell is really up with you?�

�Never mind.� Jack straightened and adjusted the flap on his uniform pocket with a sharp tug. �Get out and get some sun for cryin out loud.� He walked out into the hallway before Daniel could dredge up any more disturbing questions.

SG-1 was on stand down for two weeks. The Eurondan situation had delayed their R&R following the Replicator incident. Jack had been looking forward to some time away from the mountain. He needed to think, and the cabin was the place to do it. The Wilds was possibly the only spot on the planet where he was virtually guaranteed solitude. His mind was in a whirl with regards to the team dynamic and his and Carter�s place within it. Getting it sorted out in his head had become essential for sanity�s sake if nothing else.

Things, for want of a more descriptive term, were shifting. Carter was important, always had been, but he could no longer deny the clench in his gut whenever she was out of sight offworld. The prickling at the base of his neck was a subtle warning that emotions, feelings, were getting out of hand. He tried to dismiss them. After all they were a team of human beings thrust into an existence entirely beyond their comprehension, Carter�s brilliant mind notwithstanding. The logic worked for a while. A team, bonded by blood and fury, secure in their morals and guided by their ethics.

It worked for a while and then there was Hathor�s planet.

Jack played with the change in his pocket as he walked down the quiet halls towards the elevator. He concentrated on keeping a bland, disinterested expression on his craggy features. Adamantly opposed to projecting his inner turmoil to the occasional Airman or Officer that crossed his path. Once inside the safety of the empty car he let out a long, stuttering sigh and leaned against the wall. Utterly exhausted.

It should never have gone this far. Of course that assumption was based on the misguided impression that he actually had a choice. Falling in love was not a tactical exercise.

The thought made him cringe and Jack shook himself, trying to relieve the tense knots settling across the back of his neck.

Good intentions, professional standards, wilted beneath the irresponsible whims of the human heart.

He had been in the Air Force for close to 26 years and served with more women than he could possibly remember. Some of them had the brain capacity of a spider and about as much sense as his sister�s hamster. The latter having escaped and eaten the rat poison under the sink. Several of these unfortunate women had wound up like the hamster. Toes up and flushed away like so much refuse. It was a harsh view on an unsuspecting world but he tempered the thought with the knowledge that he did care. Each was special even in their ignorance. The letters home, the wakes and moments of tender condolence, left him touched in spite of a hardening soul.

The elevator rattled to a halt and he stepped out onto sub Level 11. The OD snapped off a neat salute and turned the clipboard for his signature. Jack flashed his I.D. card and slid it into the slot. The light turned green and he pressed his palm to the panel. Enduring the brief flash of red light at eyelevel as the machine compared his print and retinal scan. Security to leave the mountain had to be as tight as security to enter. The Gate and the dangers beyond would not allow for mistakes.

�Have a good evening, Sir.�

�You too, Johnson.� Jack smiled at the man�s embarrassed flush. It felt good to recognize the officer by name. A rarity given that there were usually a thousand things tumbling around his sieve like brain.

He walked to the elevator bank that would take him up to NORAD and the spartan lobby that opened onto the base parking lot. The lights flickered and the car jolted into motion. Jack crossed his arms and paced the small metal box, his mind flashing back over the past.

Snapshots of other, more capable personnel came to mind. Women that thrived on common sense and learned what they had failed to grasp in school by working hard and listening to the voice of experience. No one individual stood out from the pack. Instead there scrolled a plethora of faces and occasionally names. Officers and enlisted who had made his work easier and more enjoyable by virtue of their existence and not necessarily their gender.

Then Sam Carter walked through the door.

Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair and slapped a baseball cap over the resulting spikes. He zipped his leather jacket and pushed off the wall as the car came to a halt. The low murmur of the busy lobby assaulted him as the doors parted. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of sweat and carpet cleaner that poured in and beat a hasty retreat through the milling throng.

Beyond the glass doors rain poured down in shimmering trails that bounced and rippled on the black asphalt. Jack pulled the hat down tightly against the gusting wind and stepped outside. It was beyond his understanding why the USAF could pump billions of dollars into the Cheyenne complex on an annual basis, but would not spring for an enclosed parking deck.

He plodded across the lot to his truck parked in its usual distant corner. Stargate personnel lived with the motto �expect the unexpected� and NORAD had long ago put down its foot in regards to where SGC members could park. Inconvenient was only the half of it in Jack�s opinion. Maybe they could all chip in and hire a valet?

The errant notion induced a sardonic chuckle in spite of the miserable conditions. Jack unlocked the truck with the push pad on his keyring and started the engine. The big V-8 was still cold when he arrived however. No surprise and yet another source of frustration. What were the chances of moving the SGC to Nevada? At least they would be closer to area 51�

He squelched the ridiculous inner musings and climbed into the cab.

The drive down the mountain was tricky. Damp twisted roadways inspired caution and Jack was happy to concentrate on something more superficial. He made it to the bottom without incident and came face to face with the choice he had been dreading for the last three days.

Left lead to downtown Colorado Springs and the suburban neighborhood he lived in. He bought the house after Sara left the first time. Knowing it was the beginning of the end and suffering from the ingrained instinct to be prepared. A part of him lived in denial and strained for hope, though he was nothing less than suicidal on the first Abydos mission. Survival came as a surprise, her absence did not. Jack made the arrangements as soon as the Air Force had finished debriefing him. Sara deserved to keep their family home and her father had moved in to help with the inevitable maintenance and to give her some stability. He did not begrudge his ex-wife the limited comfort staying there gave her. There was never a doubt in Jack�s mind that he could not have lived where his son had once so carelessly laughed and played. His new location offered one distinct advantage, though some days it seemed more like a cross of disgrace. He was only a two mile drive to the cemetery where Charlie lay buried. He needed the closeness though he would deny to his last breath the solace and guilt geography sometimes brought. He visited the grave twice a year. The anniversary of Charlie�s death and his birthday. He knew Sara came in his absence and frequently, but she could not bear to sleep so close. He was the opposite. Determined to protect his child in death in ways that he could and should have in life.

Jack gripped the steering wheel and swung his gaze reluctantly to the right. Sam�s low slung ranch was situated in a fairly new development a scant five mile drive. To an outsider it would appear rather odd that SG-1 chose to gather at his home, the furthest away, for the occasional BBQ or pizza night. Jack knew the real reason however and so did his team. His house was his domain, the interactions within under his control. It wasn�t that he chose the topics or indiscriminately tossed Daniel out on his ear for his pedantic prattling, it was more about safety. In four years these people had become his family and they had grown to know his eccentricities as much as Jack could allow. He needed to feel secure before he could speak. The fact that most comments leaned towards the sarcastic, even inane was immaterial. Home was his comfort zone and they acquiesced to the necessity of it. Small sacrifices that Jack was grateful for, though he frequently failed to show it in words.

The random thoughts cut away the last vestiges of indecision. Jack spun the wheel hard right and peeled rubbed as he accelerated beneath the green light.
BR>

The rain stopped and a burst of watery fuchsia expanded across the western horizon as Jack drove up and parked behind Sam�s vintage Volvo. He sat back and dropped his chilled fingers into his lap. Water ran in glittering rivulets down his windshield and across the steaming hood of the truck, filling his vision with miniature rainbows.

Cheery.

His lips twitched at the sullen observation. Heaving a resigned sigh, Jack stepped from the truck and walked rapidly up the walk to the front door. He knocked lightly on the glass and waited. The air was damp and sharp with a fitful fall breeze. Warmer than at the top of the mountain but still cold enough to elicit a spate of shivered down his stiff spine.

Come on�

Jack knocked again, idly wondering if she had gone out for a walk. After a moments consideration he dismissed the notion as patently stupid in light of the recent downpour. Chalking it up, albeit unwillingly, to nerves. His hand was poised to knock a third time, and he was attempting to peer through the lacey curtains when Sam, quite unexpectedly wrenched open the door.

�Sir?�

Her eyes were too bright and the pale skin beneath was puffed and smudged with make-up. Jack winced inwardly. Tears were not on the menu and he hated to admit to the anxiety they inevitably wrought.

Words�and� sacrifices�

Jack licked his lips and swallowed audibly. The strength of firm resolve garnered at the intersection seemed to have fled into the drawing night, leaving him sweaty and dry mouthed in its wake. �Can I come in?� he managed eventually.

�Why?�

He blinked, taken aback by the cool whisper. Why? Why not? But then, he knew the answer to the latter. Jack shoved his clammy hands into his pockets and tried to sound nonchalant above the hammering of his heart. �I think we need to�talk about this.�

�Really?� Sam folded her arms. �What for?�

Warm air billowed around her taut frame, carrying the scent of candles and the muted burble of a television. Jack�s nostrils twitched detecting the odor of fresh perked coffee beneath the lilt of vanilla and pine. Was she expecting me? He ground his teeth at the selfish thought. Oh please, O�Neill, don�t think much of yourself, do you?

�Sir,� she reminded sharply, not shifting a millimeter from her defensive stance.

She wasn�t going to make this easy. Jack bit back a tired sigh. Why should she? �Dammit, Carter, it�s cold out here.�

Sam stepped aside and gestured towards the living room.

He walked in, careful not to touch her as he passed. She slammed the door and muttered �For Christ sakes,� beneath her breath as she trailed him down the hall. �Coffee?� Not waiting for a reply she proceeded into the sparse kitchenette and poured two cups.

�Whatcha watching?�

�Does it matter?� Sam deposited the mugs on the coffee table, snapped off the TV, and sank into an overstuffed chair. �Is the cable out at your house?�

�No,� Jack took a bracing sip from his coffee and settled back on the couch. �So� when are you leaving?�

�Wednesday, but you knew that.� She drank deeply from the steaming mug and fixed him with a penetrating stare. �We�re not on base and I�m on my own time, Sir. What did you want?�

The forced civility grated on Jack�s fraying nerves. She was treating him like a stranger; an acquaintance one speaks to, but never really sees. He was angry and hurt. It had been years since anyone had touched him that way, and he recoiled from the intrusion into his heart. There were demons untold lurking in those cold depths and somehow Sam had shown light on their cracked visages. Her presence sent warmth and hope into the deepest crevasses. He had grown to like, nay need, the sensation and now she was shutting down. Locking him out into the cold with only ghosts for company. Jack felt the instinctive urge to react defensively. He quelled it with supreme effort and reached for understanding.

�I wanted to talk to you about Alar.�

The first cracks in her new armor appeared. Sam pressed back into the thick cushions and pursed her lips. �You did what you thought was best.�

�I did the only thing I could do,� he corrected gently.

She grimaced and shook her head. �There were choices, Sir. You knew he would follow us through the Gate.�

�Yes I did,� he replied levelly. �And once he was here, then what?�

�I don�t know�something�� She sucked in a deep breath and met his eyes for the first time. �At least he would still be alive.�

�If he were Hitler, Khadaffi, Saddam: would you feel the same?�

�He wasn�t!�

�Yes, he was.� Jack enunciated each word, determined to reach past the woman to the soldier seated before him. �I chose to close the Iris. I made a tactical decision to forever erase a presence from this universe. I killed Alar because I couldn�t live with the deaths of millions, perhaps billions on my soul.�

�That�s what you tell yourself?�

Her tone was incredulous and it took him by surprise. �What did you expect?�

�Compassion,� she spat in a voice thick with restrained tears. �Understanding, I expected you to see Alar for the desperate��

��crazy��

��man that he was!� She blinked and swiped a trembling hand across her flushed cheeks. �In four years I�ve never seen you act so callously towards anyone.�

�Callous? I did the world a favor for crying out loud! When it comes to that I did Alar a favor too.�

�What?�

�Do you think he would have ever left the mountain? If he did where do you think he would have wound up?�

�I��

A dull ache radiated through Jack�s clenched jaw as he struggled to contain his ire and pain. �You�ve been so focused on what happened at the beginning and end of this mission that you�ve forgotten to look at the bigger picture here. He would have wound up in a cell, Sam. A 10x10 cement box with a toilet, a sink, and a bunk to call his own. If not there then lets consider the padded room Daniel occupied not so very long ago. Does that sound like a better option to you?� He climbed to his feet and paced to the bar. Angry with her for being so self righteous in her opinions. Angrier with himself for being right and yet so very wrong.

Where was the logic in sacrificing one life for another? Ten or ten billion, what justification could be found? From a military perspective it was sound policy. Go in, assess the problem area, extract the innocents and eliminate the problem. Hopefully with minimal collateral damage. Removing those who stood the most to loose was the top consideration from a civilian perspective. Only the most hardened of commanders would admit that threat elimination held as high if not a higher priority in some circumstances. Alar fit into the darkest of categories, and Carter�s innocence and trust were the casualties he was loath to identify.

�So you killed him out of pity?� she whispered tightly.

He balled his fingers into tight fists. Savoring the bite of his nails into the weathered flesh. �I killed him to spare us all, including you from a life of what ifs. I made a choice and I have to live with it, and so do you.�

The blood roared in Jack�s ears and his heart beat heavily in his cold chest as he listened to her rise and walk from the room. He pulled his hands up and placed them flat on the bar. Fascinated and mildly horrified at the way the numb fingers twitched spasmodically on the Formica. The reaction was familiar, an old friend come to aid in a tactical retreat. Control could return, he could withdraw into the purgatory of his dark heart�

Jack shook his head.

He often wondered how much combat Carter had actually seen in Iraq. Flying in a plane over a war zone was not the same as walking through the squalor. Hearing your nationality, ethnicity, and religion cursed in a dozen different dialects. Or feeling the burn of gravel against your cheeks and the acid of derisive spittle from the very people you had pledged your honor to save. As a woman combatant in the early 90s, Jack was sure Sam had seen very little in the way of actual combat. Of course there were exceptions to that assumption. He knew more than one woman who was placed where the U.S. civilian population would never dream of. By and large however, the antiquated perceptions of the Armed Forces did not subscribe to the women�s liberation movement. At the time the regulations were a comfort. A younger, more na�ve Jack O�Neill would never have guessed that one very extraordinary female would save his ass more times than mortality should allow.

Carter�s reaction to the deaths of the three Eurondan volunteers and later Alar confirmed what Jack had long believed. She was smart, brilliant even, but unprepared for the harsh choices future command would force upon her.

Now if he could only keep the conversation to the professional.

Yeah, right�

It was out: the admission, the sorrow and even a morsel of guilt. He could leave and things would move on as they had for months.

Jack pushed away from the counter and started down the dim hallway.

The choice smacked of the absurd. Ever since Hathor and the Cryovat he had known better. A hundred long days on Edora only served to reinforce what he hoped and feared was happening between Carter and himself. He liked Laira, and given time he could have grown to love her. Fate and the Major�s tireless efforts decreed otherwise. His offer to Laira had been sincere; he wanted her to come back with them. Though how she could possibly have fit into his world was beyond consideration at the time. The relief of her refusal was palpable, and he retreated into a guilty malaise for a week after. Allowing Dr. Fraiser, Daniel and even Teal�c to make excuses for his behavior. Sam had known in the same way that any woman secure in her place knows when she is being lied to.

He stopped outside the closed door. Her bedroom lay beyond. A retreat full of comforting scents and soothing colors. Safe and secure from the barrage of reality he could rain down upon them. Jack drew a cleansing breath, surprised by the sob that caught in his dry throat. He coughed and knocked softly.

�It�s open.�

He turned the knob and pushed the door gently forward. It swung silently above the thick green carpeting and bounced against the bumper on the wall. He paused uncertainly. An invitation of sorts had been issued, but the seated figure on the bed did not move or react to his appearance in any fashion. �Sam?�

It was the second time he dared to use her name and the fact was not lost on either of them. Sam sniffed loudly and swiped a tissue beneath her nose. �I�ve never killed like that,� she whispered. �In self defense yes, many times. But I never�� She looked up and pinned his nervous frame with dark, dead eyes. �I�ve never executed someone, and that�s what you did.�

The facts of the situation were never in dispute. Facing the blatant reality was different, however. Jack stepped hesitantly into the room. His troubled gaze met hers in a mirror of sorrow and regret as he groped for words. �I know what I did. I know it each time I pull the trigger. I told you a long time ago that killing a man was no badge of honor and I meant it. Sacrifices large and small are a part of life in the service.� He gestured helplessly at the empty air, feeling equal parts foolish and desperate. �I�ll never be the same man that went through that Gate a week ago and it�s pointless to even try and lie about that.�

�I don�t like what I�ve lost,� she retorted bitterly. �I don�t want to become the kind of person who can do something like that, then box it up and throw away the key.�

�Do you think that�s who I am? Who I�ve become by killing Alar?� Jack did not want the answer. Would have given anything to run from the house and disappear into the darkness of memory and never hear the words. But he was rooted to the spot. His breath coming in short, stilted gasps as he waited for her to reply.

�No,� she answered softly.

Jack couldn�t help the tone of relief and hoped she could forgive him the lapse. �Then what are you so angry about?� A tremor crawled down his sweaty back as she climbed to her feet and met his wavering gaze.

�Because for a moment I believed it.�

The admission was like a bell chiming the weary hours of his life. Jack nodded slowly, accepting her sorrow and anger into himself. Drawing it tight against his withered heart and breathing warmth from lungs tinged with frost. He wanted honesty. If he, if they, expected to survive this first test then she deserved no less. �So did I.�

She blinked but did not pull away when he stepped to the edge of the bed and placed both hands on her shoulders. �I hate what happened in the Gateroom. If I could have spared you I would have.�

�I�m not a china doll�� she interjected harshly.

The trembling beneath his fingers denied her vehemence. Jack squeezed and gave her a gentle shake. �You are a soldier and it was my honor or my curse to show you the darkest side of any man�s soul. But I�m not that man�� he swallowed audibly, determined to verbalize the emotions held silent for too many months. �I could have been, I would have�if not for you.�

She stepped back and sat down on the edge of the mattress. The silence stretched between them. Jack�s sentiments echoed around the small room, sounding weak and piteous to his ears. He dropped his hands to his sides and stared at her bowed head. At a loss, and quietly yearning for some indication of what to do next.

�I knew you were right,� she said at length. �I knew it, and I hated you for it but not for the reason you might think.�

Jack�s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. If not for the obvious then��Why?�

�Because I know I can�t do that. If it came down to a choice I would have let him through.�

�Having a heart doesn�t make you a bad person, Carter.� He fell back into the comfortable with disconcerting ease.

She chuckled and looked up, offering a wan smile. �No, it doesn�t.�

The statement was for his benefit and Jack flinched involuntarily. She read him so easily and that in itself was disturbing. �You think there�s still hope for me yet, eh?� he quipped. He dare not say us, and he wondered if she heard it as clearly as he did in the quiet room.

Sam nodded and stood up. Her hands were warm through the damp cloth of his jacket. She clutched his forearms and trailed her hands down to his loosely clenched fingers. �I do.�

He enfolded one of her hands in a firm grip and raised the other to stroke the hair from her flushed cheek. Her reaction eliminated all doubt and sparked an ember of hope deep in his troubled heart.

Trust restored, connection reaffirmed, a beginning�

*THE*END*