Title: Carter and O'Neill as a Second Language

Author: Andraste

Category: Missing Scene/Romance

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I promise to put them back when I'm done.

Spoilers: Arthur's Mantle (S9)

Author's Note: Thanks as always to my intrepid beta and other half of my brain, Ayiana.

"Carter."

"Haven't I ordered you, oh, about fifty million times, to get a life?"

At the sound of his voice, Sam instantly relaxed. A smile crossed her tired face as she settled back in her desk chair, pulling the phone cord taut to untangle it.

"Yes, Jack."

"So, you're still on base at 0200, in your office, because…?"

"You're not here." The instant the words came out, she wished she could take them back. "Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

There was a deep sigh. "I know, Sam. Believe me, I wish I was there, too." They were both silent for a few moments, until he cleared his throat. "So, when was the last time you actually went home?"

She supposed it should concern her that she had to think about it. Hard. "Um…" There was a vague memory of watching "House." She had a wee bit of a thing for Hugh Laurie. There was just something hot about scruffy, sarcastic, and grouchy older men. Which was good, considering she'd married one.

"Sam?"

Oops. Said husband was definitely sounding on the grouchy side. "Tuesday. I was home Tuesday." A couple of days ago, so not too bad.

"Sam, it's Saturday."

A quick glance at her watch confirmed the day. Crap. "Oh." Well, that was a brilliant reply. "I've been busy!"

"You're being a geek."

He had a point. But that's what they paid her for, after all. "And let's not forget to mention the fact that I was out of phase for the better part of yesterday. So that day doesn't count." Okay, that was a bit childish, but Jack seemed to provoke that in her.

"And your excuse for Wednesday and Thursday?"

Her fingers drummed impatiently on top of her desk. She made a mental note to punish Jack in some fashion the next time they were in the same time zone. "Working on the Merlin device." Well, staring at the device. Staring at the laptop hooked up to the device. Falling asleep on the desk next to the device. Getting sent to another dimension by the device.

But Jack didn't need to know the boring details.

"Let's see here. Gotta grab my Carter-to-O'Neill dictionary. Hmm. If I'm translating this correctly, you've been dozing off in your lab, and then grudgingly dragging yourself down the hall to crash for a couple hours in your quarters. Then you continue staring at the ol' wizard's gizmo for about twenty more hours. Occasionally, Daniel or Doctor Lee brings you food. Correction. Daniel brings you real food. Bill brings you blue jello. You pick at the food, and eat the jello. Oh, and Siler brings you coffee a few times a day, because he knows what you're like uncaffeinated and prefers not to experience such horror if it can be helped. So that adds up to… About six, maybe eight hours of sleep since Wednesday. And you're probably on the second… No, third to last crease in your belt. We're not in crisis mode, so the last two creases aren't necessary yet. And stop rubbing your forehead and go take some aspirin."

Sam's hand dropped from her head like it was on fire. Then she glanced suspiciously around the room, wondering if he had it under surveillance.

"Jack, that's just… You…."

He chuckled. "I'm right, aren't I? Sweet. Gotta remember to mark that on my calendar. February 24, 2006. Oh, sorry, the 25th now. 'I was right.'"

He sounded way too smug. "And how many check marks are there for the month, Jack?"

"Um…" There was a telling moment of silence. "Well… One. But it's a very big one! In red! With highlighter! And a Post-It arrow! Me being right doesn't happen very often. It's a big occasion."

Finally, there he was. Irreverent Jack O'Neill at his finest. She laughed warmly. "I adore you, Jack. I really do."

The smugness was back. "Yes, well, I do what I can. Now, Colonel O'Neill, go get some aspirin, eat something, and GO HOME!"

She grinned. Colonel O'Neill. He'd been sneaking that in occasionally as of late. "Yes, General O'Neill."

"I figure a run to the commissary, changing into civvies, and driving home should take you… Hmm. I'll give you an hour. No, make that an hour and fifteen minutes. Airman Allen is on duty at the surface checkpoint this time of night, and he likes to chat with you."

Just when she thought the man couldn't surprise her anymore, he did something like this. "Not that I'm one to point such a thing out, but… Why aren't you asleep?"

A huge, fake yawn came through the line. She rolled her eyes. "At least I'm in my house. In bed. I'm on my cell. Want me to snap a picture and send it to your cell?"

As tempted as she was, she didn't quite trust him not to send something over the airwaves that he probably shouldn't. "Thanks, but my mind can fill in the blanks rather well." Really, really well.

"'Kay. I'll talk to you at… 0332. Love you."

A tired smile crossed her face. "Love you too."

It only took a few minutes to shut down her computer and shuffle the mess on her desk into some semblance of order. Wearily, she trudged through the base, stopping and picking up a sandwich from the commissary on her way to the locker room.

An hour and twelve minutes after hanging up with Jack, Sam's aching, exhausted body slipped gratefully into her bed at home. As she lay there, waiting for the phone to ring, she decided that Jack would have a notion to come home next weekend. It was his turn, after all.

It was a very good idea, and she was sure he'd think so, as soon as she informed him of the fact.

After all, the Carter-to-O'Neill dictionary worked both ways, and she had the only copy of the updated version.

O'Neill-to-O'Neill.

And she wasn't planning on sharing.