Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

This story started off as a strange little one shot that grew into something more. It's not action-y, adventure-y, but it's definitely shippy. Of course! To make the story work, I had put Fragile Balance at the very beginning of S7 and leave Threads at the end of S8, putting almost 2 years between them.

This story has not been beta'd, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Season 8-pre Threads

Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter stood on her front porch and watched her fiancé's car pull away. She blew out a heavy breath, relieved when his taillights were no longer visible. They'd gone to dinner and he'd spent the entire meal discussing wedding plans, not noticing that she was contributing very little to the conversation. While most brides-to-be were excited about planning their upcoming wedding, she was decidedly not. Place settings, flowers, and bands held very little interest for her, when the fate of the world always seemed to be hanging in balance, and she was right on the front line. So, as he chattered on, about colors and chair covers, she nodded at what seemed like appropriate times, gave vague answers and kept checking her watch and wondering how long it would be before she could go home. Pete had wanted to stay the night, of course, but she fending off by telling him she had paperwork to finish and then an early morning meeting, so there was really no point in his staying, as he wouldn't see her anyway. It wasn't true, but he didn't know that. She knew she shouldn't be trying to fend her fiancé of, but couldn't bring herself to wonder what it meant that she was.

Unlocking the door to her small Colorado Springs home she immediately knew something was wrong. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what, but deep down, she knew it was. Pausing for a moment, she sensed there was someone else in the house. She was relatively calm, because after all these years, it wasn't that uncommon for her to come home and find a strange person waiting for her. That didn't mean she wasn't going to take precautions though. After carefully placing her keys on the table by the door, she reached for the gun she kept tucked in the waistband of her jeans, held it up, and inched closer to the living room and kitchen. Was her refrigerator door open? A noise made her halt for a moment. Was that a bottle top hitting the counter? Moving quicker, Sam slid to the edge of the wall, turned her body, gun in front and said, "Stop right there."

The kitchen light flicked on. "Jesus, Carter, put that thing away. I know there are two of me now, but I'd rather not have you take it back down to one." Sam lowered her weapon and looked at the man…boy…clone standing in her kitchen holding a beer bottle to his lips. It was none other than Jack O'Neill. Sort of.

"How did you get in here?" She asked, placing the gun back in her waistband. He tilted his head and gave her a dry look that clearly told her she'd asked a very stupid question. He might be years younger, but he still had all of General O'Neill's memories and training.

He could probably break into the SGC itself and no one would know. "Oh, right. I should have known. Si-Ja-um, what should call you?"

The younger man heaved a sigh and grimaced. "John. Apparently, I'm now John. Exciting, isn't it?" He'd always hated being called Jonathan, back when he was the 'real' O'Neill, but having two men named Jack O'Neill running around seemed a little too odd, so he'd gone with the shortened John. He still wasn't fond of it, but sometimes he decided you had to just go with it.

Sam watched the younger version of her commanding officer carefully. He was roughly 30 years younger than the real O'Neill, but she could clearly see the man she knew so well in the boy who stood before her. Actually, she realized, he didn't look like a boy anymore. He'd changed considerably in the almost two years since she'd seen him. He'd lost his boyish look quickly, and was now more of a young man. Sam wondered if it had happened the same to Jack. John was taller now, the same height as the General, and his cheekbones had taken on the sharp O'Neill look. His hair was still brown, not the steely silver she was used to, but his eyes were the exact shade of deep chocolate, and his carriage and body language were identical to the man she'd served with for the past 8 years. He was clearly Jack O'Neill. Loki had done a good job in the cloning process, even if Thor had to fix the deteriorating DNA. Reaching out, Sam took the beer bottle from his hand. "You're far to young for that." She put the bottle to her lips and took a deep swallow.

John rolled his eyes. "Come on, Carter, it's just a beer, for crying out loud." She smiled at his phrasing, and handed back the bottle. "Fine, as long as you don't drive."

John took the bottle back. "Not to worry, Carter. It's one beer. I think I'll be fine. Besides, I took a cab. See how responsible I am?"

She reached around him to grab a beer of her own and awkwardly asked, "So, what brings you here? Besides a plane or a car, or whatever smart ass comment you were about to make."

John shrugged and followed her to the sofa. He sat down, uncomfortable and unsure. It was a feeling he wasn't all that familiar with and didn't care for. He looked at her blond hair and wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it. He shrugged again. "I just…wanted to see someone who understood. I mean, I have this whole life in my memories, but it's not mine anymore. It's weird, ya know? I thought of everyone, you would understand this."

In a way, she did. She still occasionally had flashes of Jolinar's memories and it was definitely disconcerting. It was easier now than it has been back in the beginning, and at least she could separate those memories from her own. John's memories really were his, but he could no longer lead the life they went to. It had to be hard to make his own way knowing that that life, his life belonged to someone else. "I see. I'm so sorry. How are you handling it?"

Sitting back, John put his feet on the coffee table. "You know me, Carter. Sunshine and lollipops."

"Well, I know him, but your life is different now." She said carefully, not wanting to upset him further than he already seemed to be.

John nodded slowly. "True, but deep down, I'm still him, ya know?" His dark eyes found hers and she felt a weird shiver run down her spine. "I miss his life. I miss my friends. I miss traveling through the gate. I miss the cabin, silly as that may sound. I have great memories of being there, but now I can never go back. Whenever I-he-whatever, was upset, going to the cabin helped sort things out and gain some perspective. It's hard. There are days when I wake up and forget that that's not my life anymore. I have tried my best to be different from him, but it's harder than I thought it would be. He has almost everything I want."

Sam thought that might be longer than anything she'd every heard Jack say outside of work. Proof that this was truly not the real Jack O'Neill. "I'm sorry. I guess it would be hard to get used to."

"Ah, there's nothing you can say, Carter. It's just nice to be able to talk to someone about it. I can't really talk it up to a random stranger in a coffee shop. How would that go? 'Guess what? I'm a clone, made by a little gray alien. Tell me about yourself.'" He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I know I've never been a big talker, but having to give up my life has made me realize a few things. Realize that I do need people." He turned to her and eyes that met hers were dark, and what she saw there frightened her. He was too close to her Jack.

Dragging her eyes from his with great effort, she decided it was time to change the subject. "So, how's school? You're what? A senior?" John smiled at her tactic, but decided to play along.

"Junior, to be honest."

Sam's eyes widened. "Wait, what? They held you back? Why? That's not right. I'm going to call…"

John held up a hand to halt her tirade. It was just like Carter to stand up to defend him. It almost felt like old times. "Relax, Carter. I'm a junior in college."

"College? How is that? You were 16 a year or so ago. How are you in your third year of college?"

"Well," he drew out, looking very smug, then took a sip of his beer before explaining. He knew the not knowing was eating her up, and took a few moments to enjoy it. "It seems having done high school once before, not to mention holding a degree or two, spending years in the military, oh, and listening to hours of techno babble from a certain someone have their advantages. I graduated early and went straight to college."

Sam grinned at him. "That's fantastic. When did you graduate? You should have called; we would have come to the ceremony. Well, Daniel and I would have for sure and Teal'c, if he was on Earth."

He noticed she didn't mention Jack. "I didn't walk."

"Why not?"

John tilted his head and looked out the window. "Why would I? I've done it before, and it's not like I have family to watch, so, you know. Besides, it's not like I'm into pomp and all that."

Sam heard a note of sadness in his voice. She realized all the family he knew were gone, or had no idea he even existed. She recognized how incredibly lonely he must be. "Still, we would have come. We're you're family."

"No. No, you're not, Carter." John shook his head when she started to protest. "You may have been my family at one time, in my memories at least, but you're not my family, you're Jack's family. I understand now how good it is for him to have you all in his life." He paused for a second then gave her a smile that she knew wasn't quite real. "Anyway, after high school, I cajoled some yahoos in the department that keeps tabs on me to fabricate some transcripts, so I could skip all the lower level courses and now I'm a college man. Oh and I had my date of birth fudged, it's not like I have a real one anyway, so you're looking at a legal drinker. I'm 21 now. Legal." He held up his bottle in salute and took a long draw from it.

Sam shook her head. "I don't understand. You told Jack you were going to…embrace high school."

"Yeah, well, seems I'm still not the high school type. It was boring. The," he paused, "people were boring." The girls were boring, was what he almost said. They only talked about dances and celebrities and when he'd gone out on dates and kissed one or two, he felt like a dirty old man. There were no big blue eyes that could wipe away the memories of the ones staring at him right now; no shade of blond was exactly right.

Sam looked over at him, and wondered what it would be like to have to start over on her own without her friends and family. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be, no matter how tough he seemed on the outside. "Where are you going to school? What are you studying?" She was suddenly very interested in where this version of Jack O'Neill would go.

"U of Colorado, Boulder, and aeronautical engineering, if you can believe that."

She laughed. "Seriously?"

John threw his hands wide. "What? After all these years, I do have an idea of what it's all about, you know. If I can't fly jets of course, but I can at least help design them."

"Good for you. I'm glad you can do something you love."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I even own a few small planes. Built one of them from the ground up. Sure, they're nothing to the thrill of flying jets or death gliders and shooting down Goa'uld, but they're mine, and at least I can still fly."

Sam smiled. She was sad for him in a way. "I hope it makes you happy." John knew only one thing would make him happy, but once again, it was something he couldn't have. He sighed. "For the most part it does. I was accepted to the Air Force Academy, but decided not to go, even though it would likely have put me back in jets. The Air Force is his life, not mine anymore. Speaking of him, how is he? Still the same old grumpy Colonel?"

"Actually, he's now a grumpy General," Sam told him. "He runs the SGC and doesn't go off world much anymore."

John snorted. "Well, I'll be damned. General. I don't know who made that call, but they must have been desperate. I'm surprised I-he took it to be honest."

"Yeah, well, it was a difficult decision for him. As he said, he went from fighting the man, to being the man. I'm not sure he likes it."

"He doesn't," John assured her, going to grab another beer. He flipped the cap across the counter then sat back next to her.

Sam gave him a skeptical look. "How do you know?"

He gave her a look. "Come on, Carter, give me some credit. Trust me, he hates it. Where's the fun? Where's the excitement? Riding a desk? No, that's Jack O'Neill's own personal version of hell."

She knew he was right. If there was one thing General O'Neill hated, it was being sedentary. He liked to be in the thick of things. "I know. I'm not sure why he took the job, but he did."

"Do you miss him?" At her startled look, he smiled to himself. He was fishing and it seemed he'd just gotten a nibble. "In the field, I mean. Do you miss having him on the team?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, I miss him. We all do. It's just not the same." Sam looked down at her hand and knew things would never be the same. Not for any of them.

John followed her gaze and noticed the sparkling diamond on her left hand. He reached out without thinking and grabbed it, bringing it closer so he could get a better look. "What's this?"

Pulling her hand back guiltily, Sam answered avoiding his gaze. "An engagement ring. Surely you're familiar with the idea. A guy wants to marry a girl, he proposes, she wears a ring."

"Who?" He could barely form the word. Jack was still her commander, making it impossible for it to be him. She was going to marry another man. He felt sick at the thought.

"His name is Pete, Pete Shanahan. He's a cop. We dated for a while and he proposed." Sam felt strange having this conversation with him.

"I see," John responded slowly. "And how does Jack feel about this?"

"It's not really his business. It was my choice," she told him defensively.

John scooted closer to her and placed his beer on the table. "Carter," he said softly. Sam's eyes were still down, so he placed a finger under her chin, pulling her face toward him. "Look at me." When she raised her eyes, he saw a million emotions pass through them. "You can't do this. There's no way you love this, this Pete guy. Not the way you could love m-him. Not the way you could love Jack."

Sam tried to look away, but she was caught in the liquid brown of his eyes. "Jack doesn't love me. Not like that. I thought maybe, once, a long time ago, but he didn't say anything when I told him Pete asked me to marry him. He didn't tell me not to. He even started dating someone. Whatever he may have felt is long gone." She felt tears welling in her eyes, and couldn't blink them away.

"Ah, Carter." He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. He wanted to find Jack O'Neill and thrash the hell out of him for hurting this beautiful woman. Jack was one tough son of a bitch, but John had two good knees and 30 years on him, so he was fairly certain he could do it. He quelled his anger as he saw a tear drop onto his shirt. "Listen, Carter-Sam. He won't tell you this, but he loves you more than you can ever guess. I don't care if he's dating someone, she can never replace you. You're-you're the only one for him."

Sam hiccupped. She wanted to believe him. "Then why? Why after all these years did he just let me go?" The tears were falling freely. She was finally hearing all the things she'd wanted to hear for so long, but they weren't from the man she hoped would one day say them.

Stroking her hair he inhaled the pure scent of Carter. "He's scared," he finally said.

"Scared? What the hell is he scared of?" She looked up at him. Her eyes were still damp.

"You," he whispered, his mouth descending on hers. He wanted nothing more than to feel her lips under his, and he relished when she responded. Dear god, this was right. This, this woman was what was missing from his life. She was the other part of him.

Sam moaned against him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His mouth was hot and hungry. His tongue slid between her parted lips and began exploring. She heard him sigh against her mouth and took pleasure in it. She'd wanted this for so long. Wanted this man, Jack, since the day she met him. Jack. Jack. Jack. Her eyes suddenly flew open and she pulled back. He tried to follow her and pull her back, but she put her hands on his chest and pushed slightly. "Stop," she gasped. Her mind was spinning. This wasn't Jack. Not her Jack.

John looked at her in confusion. "Carter. Sam, what's wrong?"

"I can't," she said. "It's not right."

"What do you mean it's not right? Sam, listen, I-I love you. I'm fairly certain you have pretty strong feelings for me too, so how can it not be right?" John's eyes were pleading with her. They were Jack's eyes, and it made it difficult for Sam to think.

"You're practically a kid, John, and I'm on the wrong side of 35." She said, grasping for anything that made sense. She was so confused.

"No," he said, moving so that he was close to her again. "It's not wrong. On the outside I may look young, but on the inside, I'm a fully-grown man with years of life and experiences behind me. Besides, what does it matter what I look like? Marry me. Don't marry me. I don't care. I just want to be with you. We can run away together. We can go anywhere on Earth. Hell, we can go anywhere in the galaxy. Just the two of us. We can be happy. How can that not be right?" He watched her closely. Watched the countless expressions that played across her face and suddenly realized why it wasn't right. He wasn't right. He scooted away, before saying in a flat voice, "It's because I'm not him isn't it? Not the real him."

Sam let out a choked sob, and reached to touch his arm, but pulled back as if deciding it wasn't a good idea. "John, I'm sorry. You're just-" She didn't know what to say. He was right, but she couldn't say that.

"I know," he said sadly, standing, turning his back to her. "I just miss you so much. You're all I think about. You're all I want. I hoped maybe I could convince you to want that too."

"Please, don't-" Sam started, but was cut off when he turned back to her.

Anger crossed his face, then vanished almost instantly. "I shouldn't have come here. I don't know what I was thinking." He walked towards the door, but Sam ran to stand in front of him, blocking his path.

"John, listen, I don't know what to say." She sighed heavily. "There's nothing I can say, I guess, but please, don't leave here feeling rejected. It's not that I'm not attracted to you, it's clear from," she waved a hand vaguely toward the sofa, embarrassed, "what just happened that I am, but it just wouldn't work. The age thing isn't really the problem, to be honest, but there are too many other problems that we can't overcome."

He smiled and touched her cheek gently. "I know, Sam. The biggest problem being that I'm the wrong Jack O'Neill. For the record, he thinks you're too good for him. He's scared he'll lose you, and that's why he's hesitated all these years. Of course he knows the regs, but if he really thought you'd have him, he tell the president himself to kiss his ass. I thought maybe that since I don't have regs to worry about, you might take me as sloppy seconds, but that was just wishful thinking on my part."

Sam realized she was crying again. "God, I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing, Carter," he told her as he used his thumb to brush away a tear. "Don't make me make that an order. You have nothing to apologize for, yet you've done it over and over. I'm the one who should apologize for putting you in such a position. It was selfish of me, and I really am sorry." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping around her toward the door.

"John," she said quietly, making him pause. "Will you be okay? I mean you won't do anything-?" She hesitated, unsure how to say what she meant.

He laughed ruefully. "Don't worry, Carter, I'm not going to run off and do something stupid. I thought about it once, a long time ago, but realized that was the coward's way out. I'll figure this out, I promise." John opened the door then turned back to look at her. "Sam, I don't know what's going to happen between you and him, but marrying this other guy isn't going to make you happy. It will only make you miserable, and you'll end up hating each other. If you don't take anything else away from this, take that. And Sam," he hesitated briefly, "I love you."

Sam stood staring at the door long after it closed. Her heart was heavy with sadness and anger. She could have finally gotten what she'd wanted for so long if only she'd been able to make that leap, but in the back of her mind she knew she would always have missed her Jack. She wanted to scream and throw things and rail at the universe at the unfairness of it all. She hated Pete in that moment, and hated Jack more than anything. How could he do this to her? To them? If what John had told her was true, and she had no reason to doubt him, then why was Jack just letting her go so easily? She picked up a beer bottle and threw it into the cold fireplace. The shattering sound made her feel moderately better, so she threw another one. The third and last empty bottle followed quickly, and her temper cooled. This wasn't about her, and it wasn't about Jack, it was about John. John, the man who had no say in his creation, and had no family to support him. Something had to be done.

She made herself take several deep breaths and calm down completely before she picked up the phone. She punched the buttons a bit harder than she needed to, but figured it was a last release of anger.

The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered. "Carter? Is that you?"

Sam felt a small spark of anger flare, but tamped it down. "Yes, Sir. Sorry to bother you at home, but I just had a visitor, and we need to talk."

"What do you mean a visitor?" His voice went from friendly to serious. "Carter, what's going on?"

"Not on the phone, Sir." She thought she might sound a little angry and made an effort to keep her voice calm. "Can you meet me in my lab in 30 minutes or so? I know it's late, but this is important."

His response was quick. "I can be there in 20 if you need me."

She tried not to choke on his words. If she needed him? Of course she needed him. She always needed him. A sudden thought rushed through her head. What if he wasn't alone and she'd interrupted something? Oh, god. "I'm sorry, Sir, it's late. I'm sure you're busy doing…other things. It's important, but it can wait until morning."

"Hey, hey, not a problem. It's just me, a cold pizza and a hockey game. I can really tear myself away. I'll see you soon."

Sam felt a surge of joy knowing he wasn't with Kerry, but then swallowed it away. She was engaged and had no right to feel one way or the other in regards to the general's love life. "Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it."

"Anything for you, Carter," she heard him say as he hung up. If only that were true, she thought, grabbing her keys and heading back to the mountain.

TBC