Colors Revealed

By Badgergater

Email: [email protected]

Series/Sequel: Third in the Colors Series (Follows 1-Technicolor and 2- New Colors)

Category: Drama Sequel, with a touch of humor

Pairing: Jack/Sara friendship

Season: 8

Spoilers: Covenant

Warnings: None

Rating: PG

Summary: What might have happened if Sara O'Neill saw Alex Colson?s news conference

Disclaimer: Don?t own em?, recognize the power and authority of those who do, yada yada yada? Not to be posted without the author's permission.

Author?s Note: Thanks to Margo, Sis, Cokie for the beta, and to all those who feedback

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Sara climbed into my truck and didn?t say a word, throwing a dark look my way before turning to stare out the window.

Okay, I knew I was late, but then, with the way my work schedule was now, I was always late. And she hadn?t objected before. So?. As always when the atmosphere got tense, I got funny, or, at least tried to be funny. "What? I?ve got shaving cream on my chin? Mismatched socks? Gum in my hair?"

"No."

So that was good, she hadn?t lost the ability to speak. Which, when I risked another quick look over at her face, maybe wasn?t such a good thing, actually. After all, I knew from experience that when Sara had *that* look on her face, what followed the one word answers were questions. Questions I usually couldn?t answer, even if I could, you know what I mean?

The woman always could get to me.

"So, Jack."

Uh-oh, two words.

"Sara," I said, cautiously. "Something wrong?"

She looked over at me, straight at me. "I?ve been watching television."

Four words, four words I really didn?t want to hear, because I had the awful feeling I knew something of what was going to follow after. But being the brave man that I am, I tried, hard, to deflect my fate. "That?s nice. Television. So, what do you think, is ER as good without Dr. Green? I think it really lacks something ever since Nurse Hatha?"

"Jack."

I risked another look over at her. She was still staring right at me. "Yes?"

"I haven?t been watching ER."

Five words. "That?s too bad, really. True, it?s not as good as it once was, but it sure beats?"

"Jack."

Oiy. "So, no ER. You?ve given The Simpsons a try then?"

"No."

"You don't know what you're missing, Sara. This week?s episode was a classic. Homer started?"

"Jack." No one had ever been able to say my name that way, a mixture of bemused affection and suppressed annoyance tinged with long-suffering forbearance. People may think I can say a lot without uttering more than one word, but I can?t hold a candle to Sara.

"Actually, I?ve been watching the news," she explained, her voice quite emotionless, her gaze still fixed on my face.

"You shouldn?t. It?s violent and depressing."

"Yes, but the news can also be very strange. And occasionally, *very* enlightening."

I tried to look surprised. "Really?"

"Really. This week, in fact, I saw the most amazing thing."

"You did? Something amazing on the *news*?" I deadpanned.

"That rich, eccentric guy, Alex Colson?"

Oh crap.

"?And he had an alien."

"Oh that," I scoffed. "Didn?t you hear? It was a fake."

"So they say." I think the woman learned something about sarcasm from me, because she?s damned good at it. "It?s what you do, isn?t it?"

"Moi? Create illusionary special effect aliens? Not hardly, Sara." Oh, it was so easy to say that, because it was true, on the surface, even though it wasn?t really truly true, knowing what she?d meant, which wasn?t at all what she?d said.

She stared out at the Colorado Springs landscape then back at me, looking resigned. "I didn?t honestly expect you to tell me, Jack. I know you too well. Just don?t treat me like I?m dumb."

"I?d never do that," I told her softly.

She sighed. "No, you wouldn?t, and you haven?t. When you can?t explain, you just clam up and say nothing."

I shrugged.

"So," she went on, "about this alien?"

"Nothing," I answered cleverly.

I heard her draw in a deep, shaky breath, then let it out very slowly.

Making a sudden decision, I pulled the truck over to the curb, shifted it into park and shut off the engine. This conversation was going to take all of my attention, figuring how to say things without actually saying things. Oiy. "Sara, I?" My tongue felt superglued to the roof of my mouth, all the words trapped deep in my throat. What?s new? "So, how long have you been," I waved a hand in the air while I searched for the right word, "?thinking about? aliens?"

Her voice was hesitant. "Since that day when you came to my house, but it wasn?t really you, and then Charlie was there, but it wasn?t really Charlie."

"I?m sorry for that," I told her sincerely.

She turned to me, her eyes sad, her indrawn breath sounding like a half a sob. "Don?t be. It was a good thing, difficult but good. I knew it wasn?t our Charlie, but, to see him once more, that was? a miracle."

I nodded, afraid to chance speaking past the lump that had suddenly filled my throat.

She wasn?t finding it any easier to speak. "He was?"

"?not real," I finished for her.

"I know," she snapped. "But he wasn?t a hologram, either, Jack. I *touched* him. His hand was warm and it was there, it was *real.*"

I remembered what it had felt like, I could never forget what it had felt like, to take that hand and walk the image of my son through the Stargate. Even though he wasn?t real, it had been painful, saying goodbye.

.

"A better explanation than what I got would have been nice."

"But not possible."

"Not even to me?"

"Not even to you."

She sat quiet a long moment. "That was an alien, too, wasn?t it?"

"It didn?t look at all like that Roswell-thing Alex Colson paraded around on TV."

"No it didn?t," she agreed, still looking at me, and plainly waiting for more. "But it was an alien, wasn?t it?"

Very, very softly, I said, "Nothing."

She blinked.

Inside the truck, it was silent.

A single tear formed at the corner of Sara?s left eye and rolled slowly down her cheek.

I reached forward to wipe it away.

She slapped my hand down. "Don?t!"

I pulled my hand back, holding them both out in front of me, palms outward in a gesture of surrender.

Sara scooted over to lean against the passenger side door, as far away from me as she could get. Her hands, clasped in her lap, were shaking.

"Sara?"

"Don?t start, Jack. Don?t."

I let her sit, and think, and gather herself. Finally, she looked over at me once again. "Oh my God, it was real, wasn?t it?"

"The one Colson showed on TV? It was?. nothing."

She was still looking at me, into my eyes, judging whether I was telling the truth. I could see she was scared. She doesn?t scare easily, but what I was telling her, in my own inferential way, was pretty damn Earth-shattering news. Which was why it was all still secret, or mostly still secret. The thought of what the knowledge might do, the panic that might ensue if the public knew, meant we spent a lot of time and money keeping it on a need to know basis.

Slowly, I reached out a hand toward her. This time, she didn?t resist, but slid closer to me. I pulled her in against my chest, feeling her shudder.

"You don?t need to be afraid," I reassured her. It was only a little white lie. The Asgaard, after all, were friendly. Sort of, in their own selfish way. Too bad they weren?t the only things out there. "One?s my friend actually. His name is Thor. Cute little guy, even if he is pretty gray. And bald. And a little? limited? in his taste in clothes. But he?s nice. He?s been to my house, and he really enjoys the cabin. Fishing is *definitely* his thing."

"Fishing?" Her giggle had a slightly hysterical edge to it.

I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her. "I?ve been to his place, too."

"His place?"

"It?s? different? and a long ways away, but amazingly, quite similar."

"His name is Thor?" She sounded a bit disbelieving.

"Yeah, I guess. I think it?s more like a nickname than his real name or maybe a pseudonym. Long story, and not important really," I stroked her hair, and decided to tell her more. "And you know my friend Teal?c, the big muscle guy with the impeccable manners?"

I felt her nod against my chest.

"He?s, ah, from somewhere that?s? well, just as far away."

She pulled her head away from my chest, and looked up at me. "Really?"

I smiled. "Really."

"He doesn?t seem? different."

"Oh, but he is?" I smiled.

"And have you been there, too? To his place?"

"Yes. Several times. And I?ve visited a lot of? other? different? places. Very different places."

I felt her shiver and pull back. Her hands reached up to cup my chin as her eyes bored into mine. "My God, Jack, you?ve really??"

"Yes, really. Been there, done that, used the E-ride ticket but skipped the t-shirt."

"So that?s where the new scars are from?"

"Scars?"

"You know, the new ones? the one on your leg, another on your shoulder, and the one on the back of your neck."

I cringed at that one, and no, I wasn?t about to tell her how I?d gotten that one. "Guess I?m just getting clumsy in my old age."

"You, Jack O?Neill, are neither old nor clumsy." She thought a moment. "So, there?s more out there, in those different places, then your friends, isn?t there?"

She had me. I shrugged non-comittally. "You could assume that."

"So I will."

"That would be wise," I answered carefully.

"Very, I?m sure." She was quiet, digesting it all I think, and finally, "Thank you," she said.

We sat a moment longer, and then I started the truck and pulled back into the traffic. After thinking about it a moment, I decided, why the heck not? In for a penny, in for a pound. "So, Sara, you ever watch anything else on TV, besides the news?"

"Not The Simpsons."

"It?s classic."

"It?s silly."

I looked crestfallen. "Curling?"

"Never."

"Poochinsky?"

She laughed. "I knew you?d love that show."

"Wormhole Extreme?"

"Wormhole Extreme? That weird cable show about the space explorers?" she looked at me like I?d just lost my last marble, and then I saw her eyes narrow and I knew she was putting two and two together. "Wormhole Extreme. Colonel?. Oh my God. He's you?"

I grinned. "Nothing."

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The End