Back Porch

Summary: If he had known it would be this easy, he would have retired years ago.

A/N: Challenged myself to write a very short fic based on these lyrics from The Delays; "stake your claim on the morning sun," If you have the chance to listen to the song "Nearer Than Heaven" by the aforementioned group, you'll understand why I love it so much. Hope you like the fic. Let me know either way. Oh, and forget Affinity ever happened....

x x x x x x

He'd prepared himself for an angst-ridden conversation, full of unrealised dreams and unfulfilled hopes. In his mind's eye, he imagined a tense moment on the porch or standing up on his roof, watching people dance and laugh and wishing he was anyone but Jack O'Neill. He was one thought away from thinking how idiotic he'd been, how he'd thrown it all away because of his misguided sense of loyalty to an organisation who had awarded him with far less than he'd given the universe.

In the end it had been as always between the pair. She knocked on his door three days before his unofficial retirement party, right between a break in The Simpsons, and he'd answered only to come face to face with a Samantha Carter wearing the smallest dress he could imagine.

His brain could only reply with a muddled response of "Wha-?"

She smiled awkwardly, evidently aware that her attire wasn't appropriate. That meant her being drunk was out of the equation. Carter never retained any modesty when half-cut. Too many nights at O'Malley's had proven that. "I just thought I should tell you that I dumped Pete." She said quietly, gesturing down to her dress, "He took me to some fancy restaurant and asked me to marry him."

"And you said-?" He asked for no reason as if her standing on his doorstep, telling him that Pete was dumped, was not answer enough.

"No," She replied, staring him straight in the eye, "I said no."

"Oh." Jack said, mainly to fill the silence that was rapidly growing. How much more could he say?

"I couldn't marry him," She looked down to the wooden porch, "But I think he already knew that. He just wanted me to realise."

Another moment of quiet developed, before he noticed her shivering in the cold night air, "You should come in Carter..."He began, "You'll catch your death dressed like...that." He tried not to look below her face for fear of acting incredibly insensitively, which she really didn't need.

The smile that graced her features was more comfortable this time, moving to walk past you into your warm house. She noticed the television on, "What are you watching?"

"Guess?" As if she'd even need to.

"What episode is it?"

"I thought you didn't like The Simpsons," He protested, urging her to take a seat and trying to clear away the mess on the coffee table. Or at least sweep it to one side.

"There's a few that I...think are mildly amusing." She sat down in the biggest armchair, his favourite, but he gladly let her take it. She looked eerily at home, "Would you mind if I stayed for a while?"

"Course not."

Somehow during the course of the night, he found a certain Colonel's head on his shoulder, and her hand laying on his thigh. It took all of his strength to resist kissing the hell outta her there and then. He couldn't even concentrate on The Simpsons.

x x x x x x x x

Jack woke the next morning, stretching out in the bed, starfish style, to find one certain former second-in-command missing. Rousing himself from sleep, he dragged his tired body down the stairs to see the figure of Samantha Carter standing on his back porch with a mug of coffee in her hands, watching the morning sun.

"Hey," He greeted her with a small smile as he pulled open the sliding door.

"Sorry I wasn't there when you..." She began but he silenced her with a shake of the head.

"Doesn't matter Carter," He stood by the door, half inside and half outside, "You're still here which is the main thing."

Her expression turned into that of shyness; something he rarely saw with a woman like her, "I was planning on staying for a little longer actually. That is if you don't mind of course..."

"Why would I mind?" He questioned as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, moving to join her to lean over the wooden verandah rails, "Kinda planning on you staying longer too. A lot longer." He nudged her with his shoulder.

"Good." She nudged him back, "Me too."

The End