Title: Another Bump in the Road
Spoiler: 402 - The Other Side
Pairing: J/S
Missing scene: Jack can't undo what he did, but he can face Carter's backlash.
Author's note: I wrote this because I wondered what went down between Jack and Sam after Alar hit the Stargate iris. This is just a hint and Daniel's two cents worth never hurts.

Reader comments always appreciated!

CHAPTER ONE

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Jack's Irish grandfather once told him, "Jonathan me boy, the Yellow Brick Road o' life has its share o' hills and dales, it does. But mind you, those wee bumps. . . Aye, those'll land you hard on yer ass every bloody time!"

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Smoke and dust saturated the air. The Eurondan complex was caving in. Racing to the Stargate, Jack glanced back at the desperate man on his and Carter's heels.

"I wouldn't follow us if I were you." Jack warned Alar.

"No!" the alien screamed in desperation.

Daniel opened the gate and Jack ordered him and Teal'c, "Go!"

Jack and Carter returned fire to the Eurondans who were out for blood. A small sharp rock slammed into Jack's right knee. Shit!

Dodging falling debris Alar screamed, "Wait! Wait!" As rubble tumbled around them, Jack and Sam turned to look at the Eurondan leader. "I could teach you everything I know! Just let me come with you!" Alar pleaded.

Disgusted with the pathetic excuse for a human being Jack stared unemotionally.

"Please?" Alar begged him.

"Go now!" Jack glanced at his 2IC. Without hesitation, Sam obeyed.

Jack turned his back on Alar and followed Carter. On the other side, she turned and faced the open gate as Jack walked through. He looked at her and as his acid reflux kicked into overdrive he said calmly, "Close the iris."

"Do it!" General Hammond seconded Jack's command.

The metal iris sealed the wormhole. A sickening thud followed. Alar had not heeded Jack's warning. Hello!

"I take it, Colonel, you were unable to incur Eurondan technology?" General Hammond asked him.

Jack looked from Sam to Hammond. "That's correct, sir."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the General with regret.

Jack looked at Sam who had lowered her gaze. "Don't be."

She raised her head sharply. Their eyes locked.

"We'll debrief in one hour," Hammond ordered.

Jack glanced Hammond's way. "Yes, sir," then returned his gaze to his 2IC. Carter stared accusingly. Ah, crap! She was the last person in this screwed up universe he wanted to disappoint. He met the angry disappointment on her flushed, dirt-marred complexion. Still, he stood confident in his decision. By closing the iris, he just slew an alien Hitler-want-to-be. Earth didn't need another radical racist!

Someday, when Carter filled Jack's boots she'd have to make similar life and death calls. Someday, she'd have to look her 2IC in the eye and not blink. Damn hard to do—the not-blinking-part. A clichéd message skidded across Jack's weary brain. This has been a test of your local CO training center. If this were an actual emergency you'd . . . .'

Unflinching, Carter put her slender back to him and stalked down the ramp. He felt the cold, emotional backlash of her rigid body language. Had she any concept what this call cost him and that it'd be stored with the other sealed compartments in his tortured soldier's soul? Right or wrong he would live with Alar's death sentence. Living with Carter, well that was another bump in their rocky relationship. Heck, outside of the SGC did they even have a relationship? Let's not dwell, shall we, Jack.' Either way, letting her walk off half-cocked wouldn't help.

They must talk. Sam needed to know he'd not taken Alar's life because he was a racist, but to save the man from spending his life on Earth rotting in prison for crimes against humanity. There was no way around the obvious. Someday he and Alar would answer to God. For now, Jack had to answer to the woman who'd stolen his heart.

"Major?" he asked softly.

"Sir?" She halted and glanced back.

"After the briefing, let's talk topside. Dinner . . . my treat," he offered and revealed his battered heart through a nervous smile.

Carter's stiffened shoulders relaxed. "Is that an order, Colonel?"

"Nope. Just a request from one officer to another, one friend to another, yada, yada, etc," he directed traffic with his free arm while leaning on his P-90.

"Fine. But it won't be pretty, Colonel," she warned with a glint in her gray-blue eyes.

"The truth rarely is, Carter. But I'll handle whatever you throw me."

"Yeah sure yabetcha," she replied flatly, turned on her boot heels and marched off to the locker room.

More than aware of Hammond's observant stance Jack limped down the metal ramp feeling the weigh of the galaxy on his shoulders. As he handed off his P-90 and C-4 to an airwoman, he said under his breath, "Well, that went well, O'Neill." No doubt his and Sam's conversation would turn into a knock-down drag-out battle of wits and wills. Not minimizing what he'd done to Alar, Jack knew that he'd rather face Carter's righteous wrath than to ever live a day without her.

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond spoke from the control room booth.

"Sir?" Jack halted and looked up at the firm lipped man. Did Hammond's bald head resemble a plump, ripe tomato? Yep. Dang he hated when that happened.

"Jack, before the team briefing I want to discuss what I think just happened." He pointed at the Stargate's iris.

Of course you do. "When, sir?" Jack drew a weary breath and met his commander's unsmiling features.

"A.S.A.P." Hammond walked away.

"Just peachy," Jack snorted. "Another ass-reaming." He knew Hammond probably wouldn't disagree with Jack's action, but as Jack's CO the matter had to be discussed.

Rounding the corridor, he came face-to-face with Daniel, who so wasn't smiling. "Daniel?" Jack lifted a limp hand at the linguist blocking his path, more than aware of what was up.

"Jack, please tell me what just happened didn't happen? And if so, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Aack!" Jack answered succinctly. "Yes, Daniel, it happened."

The linguist's lips parted with condemnation.

"Na . . . ah!" Jack flagged his left pinky finger. "You've gotta take a number . . ." He patted his pockets, then yanked Daniel's right hand, palm up.

"Hey!" Daniel gawked as Jack pulled out a pen and scribbled the numeral 3 on Daniel's palm.

"What's this mean?" Daniel glanced over the rim of his soiled glasses as Jack headed for the stairs that lead to the briefing room and Hammond's office.

"That you're not the only one who wants to bust my balls, Jackson. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to answer to the man and then God help me—the woman."

Open-mouthed, Daniel Jackson watched the colonel's limping departure as he took the staircase and disappeared from view. True, Jack had been a jackass this mission. So what was new? Jack had also apologized to Daniel. Admitting when he was wrong and asking forgiveness wasn't Jack's strongest trait. And yet, Daniel trusted no one else to lead him or SG-1 anywhere in this universe.

His thoughts on his best friend Daniel ambled toward the elevator. Minutes ago, he had witnessed the unspoken friction between Sam and Jack. Daniel's gut instinct was that the thud against the Stargate had been Alar. Jack confirmed it so. Right or wrong, he respected Jack and his military rank. Knowing Jack would talk with Sam gave Daniel a sense of vindication. She may be a soldier, but Sam and Daniel thought much alike humanitarian wise. Her personal response to Jack wouldn't be pretty. Then again, Daniel was no fool as to how they felt about each other. Jack would find pleasure in Sam yanking out his toes nails.

Stepping into the elevator, Daniel glanced at the number 3 on his palm, then spit and rubbed it clean against his BDU's.

A smile split his face.

After all, that's what friends were for.

TBC