Chapter one
'A Ridiculous Impossibility'
There were two of them.
It was an impossibility. A perfectly ridiculous impossibility.
And she's rather aware of the mathematical equations necessary to prove that it was an impossibility. But at this point, she doesn't really care.
Two Colonel Jack O'Neill's.
Honestly she should really be focusing on…well anything other than this. But she can't. Because while she is a certified genius, none of that matters when the only thought that makes even the slightest bit of sense is 'Holy crap'
Her startled and somewhat hormonally driven mind notices that they're in perfect sync. Though she doubts that they'd have noticed that. It means that she gets the chance to watch those tiny movements she adores happen in tandem. The way he rubs a tanned hand through his short military cut greying hair, the frustration he feels evident in the sharp movement. The way he crosses his arms in a way that tightens his shirt just right over the biceps of his arms. It's fascinating. And damn it she doesn't have time to be fascinated by him.
Logically she knows that one of them is a robot. Designed and manufactured by Harlan for a purpose they're not quite aware of. She's even pretty sure which one it is. But the thing is, it's such a well-toned replica of him that it's hard to remember he's not real. Because what she really wants is to see if he is a complete replica.
It intrudes on her awareness that he was saying something. Usually his voice was a balm to her senses, enough that it was often impossible for her to fully tune him out as she does with others. But right now she's utterly engrossed in the idea of peeling that tight black t-shirt off of him and finally giving in to the heat that's flickered between them for such a long time.
Her eyes finally drift back to his face, only to note that there's now the faintest amusement in his eyes. As if he's all too aware of the path her thoughts have taken. And it takes all of her willpower not to blush like a high school girl in front of her crush.
"Carter?" Jack spoke, interjecting into the now silent room. She blinked, a quick flutter of lashes against cheeks, a swift convulsive swallow in her suddenly dry throat, and she finally managed to speak, "Sorry. It's just surreal."
O'Neill…both of them, gave her the same look. The raised eyebrow and that little quirk of the mouth that she's dreamed of kissing far too many times for her to be entirely comfortable with it happening in public.
"How do you think I feel?" her Jack says, his voice just that tiniest bit more gravelly than his robot counterpart seems to manage. He looked at his double with disdain and irritation. Heat arcs between them, not the passionate sparks that have been known to fly between herself and him, but rather the kind that promised violence. It was probably all kinds of wrong for her, but she really, really liked that look.
"Yeah, well I don't like it either." The robot Jack growls out. They're squaring up now, as if to come to blows. She's seen that look in his eyes before, the moment before he lashes out in a fight. For a moment she's apprehensive, because if one of them kills the other, then there will be a huge mess that can only end in heartache.
But before she can dwell on that for too long, rationality reminds her that she knows them better than that. Jack is a hell of a soldier, more disciplined than he appeared. As much as they might tussle, they've both got enough skill to stop it going further.
There's a narrowing in his dark eyes, the slightest shift of posture that promises violence. She wonders idly if the sprinklers will activate in here if she spontaneously combusts. Because if they fight she might just manage it.
No. In the interest of sanity. In the interest of not ruining her lab equipment with a impromptu shower, she needs to stop it here.
"Sir!"
As expected her voice stops them, they both snap their attention to her in a way that makes her ever so slightly weak in the knees. Oh the possibilities.
"If you're going to fight, take it out of my lab."
She's proud that her voice doesn't shake. She admires the way it most certainly does not reveal that them leaving her lab is the last thing she wants.
Something glitters in his eyes. The duo lock gazes, subtly communicating something. And she feels her heart start to race. That fluttering foolish thing she's locked up behind bars now presses against her insides. Her Jack moves forward, leaning on her desk and tilting his head in just the right way. The way she's imagined so many damn times, the exact way he'd tilt his head to give her access to his chin and throat.
"Something wrong Carter?
Damn him.
His tone is jovial, teasing. But there's a knowledge in his eyes. An awareness of exactly how weak her knees have become. How the gentle steadying grasp she had on her desk at the start of this conversation has turned into a white knuckled attempt to keep herself standing.
"I just don't want you to damage anything in here. This stuff is very expensive."
But she knows that her eyes betray her. She's an excellent actress, most of the time. But there are moments. Moments like this when she's damn near delirious with wanting. When she's just too damn tired of dancing on the edge of the line between them. Part of her knows this is because she's just drained from the complexity of the problems that she's facing. She's pushed herself with very few hours of sleep, unable to leave this problem behind. Now she's paying the price for that. Because while it's important for her to be strong, all she wants is to be very very weak.
There's a part of her brain, the part of her that isn't currently providing helpful suggestions as to what they could accomplish with two Jacks, wonders if he ever feels this way. This fire, this strange need that turns her blood to kindling. She knows that he wants her, they've both stood on the edges of that line far too often for her not to know. But she does wonder if it ever robs him of rational thought. It's a little unfair if she's the only one who loses all sense of rationality.
He shifts, the tiniest of movements but it snaps her out of her thoughts, so she hears him when he says, "Yeah, half this stuff I don't even know how to pronounce, let alone replace."
He does that a lot, she notices. Pretends that he's dumber than he is. It's a way of protecting himself. It makes his enemies underestimate him more often than they have cause to. They see a foolish GI, but he's got the brains to outthink them.
Half of her wants him to come around that table and finally do what they've both been waiting on. The other half is considering the viability of vaulting the table and crash tackling him. But at least, for once, both halves are in agreement. She wants him.
His pupils dilate, a warm welcoming darkness forming in his gaze. His tongue touches the edges of his lips, and his gaze is briefly focused on her mouth. He is, she thinks, imagining what it would be like to kiss her.
Suddenly there is a presence behind her. But instead of making her tense, there is just warmth and heat. As if she already recognised him. She realises then that the Robot Jack has slipped out of her eyesight. With a thundering heart she knows he's standing right behind her. He leans forward, hands on either side of hers on the desk. Though such a position should have had him plastered against her back, there was somehow a careful distance between them.
He murmurs into her ear, "You're shaking. You okay?"
She can't help the reflexive swallow that his voice provokes. The real Jack is staring at her, some strange heat in his expression. It takes her a moment, but she understands that it's a shade of jealousy. Though the person behind her is a spitting image of him, he's exactly where the real one would like to be.
She suddenly can't seem to draw enough air into her lungs. The room feels almost too warm. All she really wants is to lean back. To ease the almost desperate needs for touch that he has invoked in her.
"I'm fine."
Her voice doesn't tremble. But she does. And the robot chuckles behind her, "are you sure?"
Her lips part, her tongue darting out to moisten them in a too quick motion she didn't exactly give permission for her body to make.
She needs to find her feet. Needs to send them away before she can't. Because that moment is rapidly approaching. The real Jack moves, stepping around her table and moving closer to her, "You're looking a bit red there Carter."
In contrast to the rich thick tenor of the robot, his voice is still slightly jovial, with that edge of caring.
God.
They've got to stop.
They've got to stop this before they can't. Before she considers just how tenuous the line between them truly is. Before she understands that all she has to do is reach out. Because if she does, they'll fall. And while the falling would be something glorious, they could lose everything. And she can't take this place from him, nor stand it being taken from her. They need it to survive, the same way they need oxygen and water.
Her eyes fall closed, prickling, burning beneath closed lids she fights back tears. Because this is cruel. Taunting her with what she's wanted and never been able to claim.
"Please."
"She's not sure if she's asking him to leave, or to take that step for her. The robot moves from behind her as the real Jack finally situates himself at her side. She can feel the heat of him barely inches away from her hand. But at her muttered word he has frozen.
No doubt he's asking himself the same question. To step forward or back. To fall or to respectfully toe the line and pretend that they're just friends.
They stand there. Frozen at a cliffs edge. Perfectly poised to tumble down, with such a glorious flight awaiting them. He draws in a shuddering breath, obviously fighting himself as she fights against herself.
And suddenly there is movement. A warm hand is gripping her jaw, turning her head so that he can claim her mouth with a hot possessive kiss.
She's never been kissed like this before. Sure there were others in her past, but their kisses had been shades compared to this. This heat, this fierce fire that threatens to engulf them beyond all hope of rationality. She's barely aware of her body and turning and sinking against his, only that she needs to be closer. That she needs to feel the heat he has with herself or she'll freeze. Though he's older than her, he's certainly not allowed the years to diminish him. The body beneath her hands is firm. The mouth that kisses hers is temptingly dexterous.
All too suddenly he wrenches his mouth from hers, gasping for breath. And she stares up at him, surprised and dazed. His eyes, however, are not those of a man who has been kissed senseless. They are those of a man who is torn in the direst of ways. They are the eyes of a man faced with an impossibly painful choice and knowing that it had to be a bad one.
"This…this isn't right. We can't do this." He sounds as if he would rather be saying anything else. But she understands it for what it is. The rejection regulations demand that they say. The careful establishment of a far more tangible line in the sand. A line that says this far and no further.
"Jack." Her voice is soft, shock and hurt carrying undertones like sharpened daggers.
"Sam. We can't." Anguish colours his tone. The back of her mind, strangely detached from this situation in the same way one goes into shock, notes that she's never heard this kind of pain in his voice before. But for all that she rails against it, he's right. It's stupid, and wrong and it's everything she's ever wanted.
"I know." It seems as if they'll both leave this conversation bleeding. Because though their words are polite, civil even, the meaning behind them is agonizing. Though her body cries out against it, she disentangles herself from him. Her hands flutter about her face, smoothing her hair with an almost frantic quality to her movement.
"Sam. I-"
"Out. Please." She cannot listen to him make apologies. She can't deal with that right now. Because it's taking everything she has to keep it together. Surprisingly it's the robot O'Neill that comes to her rescue, taking his real world counterpart and practically dragging him from the room.
She doesn't watch them go. Instead relying on the sound of the door closing to let her know that they've finally left.
Authors note:
Hello Again people ;) it's been a while since my last story, and i apologize for that. things got pretty busy with me, so I've not had as much time as i'd like to write. on the plus side i did manage to get accepted into a Masters of Research, so Boo ya on that ;)
hopefully you will enjoy this, and as always let me know what you think. it really does make a difference to me and i always appreciate it :D
Ta ta for now ;)
~MadamRed