Disclaimer: I don't own them, I never will...I only earn four pounds an hour at my Saturday job. Maybe if I'm a good girl Santa will let me have them for Christmas...no? Damn!
(Not even Jack?Fine...Spoilsports!)
Never say never.
Sitting, bored out of his skull, in an empty dusty field; staring blankly out into the horizon whilst Carter collects her dirt and goes 'hmmm' at the little machine with the squiggles and Daniel 'ooohs' and 'ahhhhhs' at the ahem interesting structure of the pre-whatsit-thingamy-caic settlement, Jack O'Neill felt useless.
A cake walk mission.
One Colonel, never satisfied.
Running for his life as Jaffa shoot at him from all directions. Gasping every single time he places his weight on his bloodied right leg and daggers flare up his body. Desperately attempting to get his team back to the gate alive. Seeing Daniel punch the symbols, Teal'c covering with staff fire and Carter…hit…Carter falling, crying out in shock and pain and terror. Unable to protect her because of his damn broken right arm, O'Neill felt useless.
A nightmarish mission.
One Colonel, never satisfied.
Sitting behind a desk, signing off paper after paper. Coffee delivered in the morning, because of the meeting he has to run. Making sure it's the right kind of potatoes in the Commissary. That there will be traditional red, white and blue bunting for the President's visit. Memos; This bill needs paying, so does that one. A light bulb needs fixing in the storage room on level 21. Someone sneezed near the Stargate. He can't do that anymore, he's too old. He can't do this anymore, too tired. Second guessing himself, O'Neill felt useless.
Flying a desk.
One General, never satisfied.
Handed a little black velvet box by the woman of his dreams, her blue eyes gazing up at him full of some nameless emotion. This should have been the other way around, him down on his bad knee telling her how much she means to him, using every silly cliché that he knows because it will make her smile THAT smile. She meant everything to him. But not now. She can't now. She's not his to care about anymore. She's Pete's. He never thought he'd hear himself utter those words. Realizing Sam had moved on, O'Neill felt useless.
Going home alone.
One heart, never satisfied.
Sitting on a dock, casting his line into a pond with no pesky fish in it, Carter at his side and the boy's on their way. Not dwelling on the past, on the what ifs or the should haves or the ex-fiances and Captain Kirk tendencies. Sipping a beer and smiling, remembering a friend…a father. Crying, sharing, talking, joking, laughing. Dare he say it? Flirting! Little glances and softly spoken words. In-jokes. Feeling…feelings. For her? No for Tor! More laughter. Ahhhh, there's the smile. Her smile, which he likes to think is his smile. Making her happy again, O'Neill doesn't feel so useless.
Starting over.
One man, almost satisfied.
Kissing her completely. Alone at last. Curled up together in front of the fire, he cradles her in his arms, fingers lightly tracing patterns on her bare skin. The firelight reflecting in her eyes, coloring her golden. Secret smiles again. Faces close, eyes gazing, hands moving, stroking. The air buzzes with knowledge as the walls avert their eyes from the couple, united after all these years. Quiet sighs and whimpers and moans that keep perfect time with their gentle rocking, soothing, loving, making up for lost time. He doesn't feel so old and useless anymore…round five on the kitchen counter, shit-eating grin when Sam screams his name.
Jack.
Satisfied and then some.
A/N: Thanks for reading :D