With a sigh, Jacob died, quietly, in bed, the last place Jack had suspected his friend would leave his life. Jack watched for a moment, saying his own silent goodbye. He contemplated going into the room, but decided to leave Sam where she was, beside her father's bed, murmuring quietly.

The base seemed oddly quiet as he walked back to his office. With Daniel in some not-dead state somewhere and Teal'c off doing his Jaffa warrior thing, his office seemed oddly bereft of people demanding his attention. Walter dealt with the most of the day-to-day problems of the base, leaving Jack to deal mostly with the huge 'the world is about to blow up, whoops, I made a mistake with that naquadah generator, the wrong kind of peas were delivered!' kind of issues.

At least that meant he could sit in silence for a moment, thinking about Jacob, and Kerry and Carter. Just one precious moment's peace, to get the turbulent thoughts sorted out.

"Sir?"

It wasn't an unwelcome interruption, when it came, seeing it was Carter. He looked up at her, standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red, but she was smiling, her blue eyes glowing as if lit from within.

"Hey." He said softly, getting up from behind the desk and going towards her. "You okay?"

"Fine, I think." He pulled her gently into the room, and sat her down, closing the door behind her. "I'll miss him."

"Yeah, so will I. He was a great guy." Jack said, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her. "I liked him a lot."

"He liked you." She said, smiling a little. "In fact, he never seemed to mind you calling him Dad." She told, her voice trailing off, her gaze slipping away from Jack, her face looking puzzled.

"Are you okay? Do you want some time off? I can arrange that…"

She looked back at him, smiling at the worried tone.

"No, honestly, Sir, I am okay. It's odd, really. Some of the things he told me, just before he died…well, they sort of made a lot of missing pieces in my life fall into place. Things seem a lot clearer now."

"Good." He said, looking puzzled, but sort of understanding. He knew, all too well, that death could make everything seem clearer and sharper, like a picture bought sharply into focus. "I thought we could have a memorial service for him here, as well as the burial, if that's alright by you."

"I'd like that. And I'd like you to speak at it, please."

"If you want."

She stood up, and looked at him, face to face.

"If you don't mind, Sir, there's something I have to do. Do you mind if I take the next couple of hours off?"

"No, of course not. Take as much time as you need." He told her, trying to see what was thinking. She looked different, calm, peaceful almost.

"And you'll be here, when I get back?" she asked.

"I always am. Got no-where else to go." He said, grinning, but deep down in his eyes she could see he meant something different from a joke.

"Good."

She looked down, and Jack realised that at some point in the last few minutes, he had taken hold of her hand. He couldn't remember doing that, but now was reluctant to let go. She didn't seem to be pulling away though, like she would have done before. Slowly, he stroked his thumb across the back of her knuckles. She didn't look up, but watched his hand in hers.

"Go." He said softly. "Do what you have to do. I'll be here when you come back."

He let go of her hand. She looked up, and smiled quickly at him, and left.