Title: Finding Faith
Author: Su Freund
E-mail: su freund ficwithfins com (insert . instead of spaces in the address)
Website: www ficwithfins com (insert . instead of spaces in the address)
Category: Friendship, UST/pre-ship, angst and a pinch of action/adventure.
Content Warnings: Some use of O'Neill like language.
Pairings: Jack & Sam friendship and UST
Season: Future
Spoilers: References to various episodes up to S10
Summary: The retired General Jack O'Neill has moved on to a new line of work, one that comes as a shock to everyone who thought they knew him. Did the old teammates he's now pushed out of his life ever really know him? And is it too late for the original members of SG-1 to be reconciled?
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Copyright © 2006 Su Freund
Art Credit: The artwork illustrating this story on my site was created a couple of years ago by Katsugo, the Darkgate Web Diva. I loved it, asked if I could use it sometime, and it's taken me a long time to write a suitable story for it. The planet described in this story was inspired by this artwork. So thanks to Kate for agreeing I could make use of her wonderful creation. I do so hope she doesn't hate the story! The artwork can be seen at on my website, either as the header to the fic, or in the art gallery.
Author's Note: This is my entry for the Jackficathon Challenge 2006. The plot bunny provided for the challenge can be found at the very end of the story because I would hate to spoil it for you. Thanks to the person who provided this plot bunny, whoever they may be. I had a lot of fun writing it. Many thanks are due to Flatkatsi who beta read this story, picking up my many errors and forcing me to improve. The story is much better for her invaluable input. All remaining mistakes are, of course, entirely down to me.
Finding FaithThis job required stealth and when he needed to be, you couldn't get much stealthier than Jack O'Neill. Except maybe Teal'c, when he wasn't wearing that confounded Jaffa body armour that clattered and thumped in an attempt to scare folks into submission and subjugation. But that's quite another story. This story is about Jack. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, and there's something about candlesticks in there somewhere, although who knows why so don't even bother asking.
Hence, there he was being stealthy, slinking forward, acutely alert to each movement and sound: every nuance of the rustling breeze, and the chirruping and twittering of birds. The only movement going on right then was his. He could detect very little through the darkness of the lush, dense trees. As silently as possible, he crept onward, shrouded by the oppressively thick forest surrounding him.
It was a running gag with SG-1 that O'Neill hated trees. That wasn't in the least bit true, but he'd always let his team think so through his flippant or sarcastic remarks. He loved them, but was kind of partial to the familiar foliage of Minnesota. This forest was different – dark, dank and eerie - and that was creeping him out.
If he looked up he could see just a little of the sky that hovered menacingly overhead. The heavens were laden with a heaviness that added great weight to the repressive forest. Jack thought in all his travels he'd never encountered a sky quite like this one. Its greens, pinks and dark greys reflected ominously on the surrounding unnatural terrain, merely adding to the O'Neill mental illusion of spooksville central.
The increasing dampness underfoot told him he wasn't far from the lake, and the welcoming sight of the Stargate, and O'Neill glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Where were the others?
The surroundings reminded him of tropical rainforests back on Earth, but this place was eerily different and alien. Go figure! They were on an alien world, after all, but there was something menacing about this planet that unnerved him. O'Neill wasn't a man who was spooked easily, he wouldn't have lasted long in the Air Force if he had been, particularly at the SGC, but spooked might have been one word he would use to describe his disquiet.
Was his unease borne from being all alone out there? It wasn't the first time he'd been alone in harsh and portentous surroundings, but now it worried him. This place wasn't meant to be that threatening. The mission should have been simple and straightforward, so why did his skin prickle? His hand ran around his neck scratching at the itchiness, and Jack knew the irritation had little to do with the planet's humidity. It was that warning sign he'd gotten so used to over the years. There was something, possibly danger, lurking here, and it wasn't coming from his pursuers. It was something else. Jack just couldn't put his finger on it yet, but he would.
The surrounding forest suddenly felt even more oppressive and he fingered the radio attached to his vest but it remained ominously silent. O'Neill kept glancing at it as if wishing it would crackle and pop into life, but he'd ordered radio silence on this one so wasn't really expecting it. Silence was necessary, although he didn't cherish being alone, feeling exposed and just a little vulnerable. No way did he want these guys to catch up with him. It was unthinkable that such a thing should happen. Jack wondered how Carter and the others were doing, and where they were. But he wasn't breaking the silence anytime soon to go finding out.
A sudden noise broke that silence and he melted into the undergrowth, crouching behind the closely packed ferns and bracken to become almost invisible and staring carefully upward – not that it was likely they could see him through the density of the domineering trees. Leastwise, not from above.
P4X-928: the stuff nightmares were made of. And it looked like the nightmares were just about to get worse. Squatting to watch the unfamiliar ships as they swooped overhead, he cursed. Crap! Looked like he might be stuck there for a while. How the heck had he got himself into this fine mess? As he silently hid and waited, O'Neill gave some thought to that question. He was getting too old for all this crap.
Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, a few months earlier:
The cadet stood before O'Neill somewhat uneasily, Jack thought, and he waited in silence for the young man to speak, one eyebrow arched quizzically. Cadet Thompson was wondering if he would ever learn how to do that. It was a neat trick. He'd tried practising in front of the mirror but could still only raise both eyebrows simultaneously. That kind of bugged him but he didn't have the nerve to ask the old general how he did it.
"Didn't you used to work with a Colonel Carter, sir?" Thompson asked after the longest of pauses.
"Yeah, what of it?" O'Neill wondered how the cadet knew. Had he been digging up the dirt? What dirt he could find that is, which wouldn't be much, let's face it, given most of Jack's working life was classified. He never had gotten around to writing that book.
"The colonel is a guest lecturer today. Something to do with quantum physics and wormholes."
Jack tried to look casual about that revelation, wondering how the hell he'd missed the fact she was coming to the Academy. "Ah! She's quite the expert in that field. Are you going?"
"Will it be worth it?" Thompson asked a little cheekily.
"Worth it? Carter's always worth it. She's a genius."
"Really, sir?"
"A national treasure. You should be honored to listen to what she has to say. Listen and weep at your own stupidity, Thompson," he said, noting the cadet wince slightly at his turn of phrase. "You'll learn a lot."
"Then, as you recommend it, I'll go, sir."
"Well, it's not my area of expertise."
"But you know a lot. You've been there and done that, sir."
Jack eyed him curiously, pretty sure Thompson couldn't be referring to travelling through wormholes to distant planets, and realised he should probably reprimand the cadet for his gall, but just continued to look him in the eyes and felt gratified the young man was discomforted by that silent reproach.
"I know an awful lot about a lot of things, Cadet, but working with Carter for years didn't teach me much about physics I didn't already know. She was always way over my head."
"I find that hard to believe, sir."
O'Neill was conscious of the fact Thompson had a minor school boyish crush on him and knew he could do little wrong in the cadet's eyes. It was simply one of those student/teacher type crushes and it happened all the time. Jack hadn't worked out what to do about this one yet, but he would, and Thompson would come out all the better for it, he hoped. That happened all the time too.
One thing Jack liked about this job was watching the kids grow and develop into more than they might have been. Wasn't that what all teachers wanted? Maybe not everywhere, or maybe that's how it all started, but the old cynicism generally kicked in to give a swift one up the butts of the overly idealistic.
Jack had come to this job with no real idea of whether he could succeed and, so far, he'd had both successes and failures. Failure was much a part of life as success and he tried not to take it personally. It sucked, but it would always be so.
"You have too much faith in my abilities, Thompson. Why do you think I teach what I teach?"
"You teach it very well, sir."
"I'm flattered and all that, but what happened to the apple?" Jack joked with a half-grin on his lips.
"I-I…"
"Spit it out, cadet."
"I, um, I'm pretty sure there's a whole lot of other things you could be teaching us, sir."
Jack eyed him sternly. "But I teach the one thing I want to teach, Thompson. The past is the past and there's no going back. Life's too short to do the things you don't want to do."
"Yes sir," Thompson replied, taking the hint from the general's eyes and deciding not to push it.
"Okay, so run along then. I need coffee."
"Yes sir," the cadet replied turning to leave. "Are you going to the lecture, sir?" he asked as he reached the door.
"Might," O'Neill replied thinking, 'Yeah, I might just do that.' He hadn't seen her for a very long time, despite living in the same city. 'The past is the past.' He sighed heavily at the thought and pondered what to do. It sure would be good to see her again. Or not. He wasn't really too sure but it gave him a lot to think about.
O'Neill was as surprised as anyone to find himself in this place, doing what he did. Sometimes he'd be staring out at a sea of faces, many of them bearing bored expressions and probably wishing they were elsewhere: aerodynamics, engineering, communications, military tactics – anywhere but where they were right then listening to an old general droning on about a subject a lot of them didn't give a damn about. That could be pretty scary stuff, particularly first time out. They were all so young.
It gave him a thrill of pleasure on those occasions he spotted a spark of interest light up the eyes of a cadet, although Jack wondered how very many more times he'd asked himself if he was getting through.
Much better were the smaller groups, sitting with the eager young folks who took an interest in what he had to say, having the gumption and enthusiasm to enjoy debating with him and learning to think for themselves. They got the old blood pumping in Jack. It wasn't quite like going out in the field and outwitting or fighting an enemy, but nothing was ever going to be the same as that and he would never get those chances again.
Touring around the universe and saving the planet on a regular basis - how do you top a career like that? You can't, it was as simple as that. Jack still missed it but it seemed as if all of that had been another lifetime ago. That O'Neill was still inside, yearning to break free, longing to come out and show himself. There were those people who thought of that Jack O'Neill as a hero. Jack thought the notion was bullshit.
Lucky maybe, well trained for sure, but not a hero. The exhilaration and excitement, the adrenaline rush, the fast and hard pumping blood, and possibly even the terror - Jack had loved that. Damned near getting killed on a regular basis was a side effect worth suffering for all of it. The closest he came to that these days was when he saw that light in a cadet's eyes and knew he'd found a special one.
These young cadets were the future of the Air Force, the next generation of heroes, and they had no real inkling of what O'Neill was or had been, or what they might become. But Jack knew, he was good at knowing, and that gave him a rush. It also made everything worthwhile.
'Life sure is strange,' he thought. 'Who'd have ever guessed I'd end up here?' Jack had figured he'd leave the Air Force in a box. His death should have come while defending his country, planet and universe, as befitted a man with the heart and soul of a warrior. That or he should have taken himself off to the cabin in Minnesota years ago. He'd promised himself he would. If he lived through it he'd spend his days pottering around fishing for no fish, playing cards or chess with the guys, going for long walks in the beautiful forests that surrounded the cabin.
'Just goes to show how wrong you can be,' he thought. They wouldn't let him go. It wasn't that he had no choice but, well, he didn't have much of one. 'Looks like I'll die a death I never wanted and leave this world with a whimper, not a bang.' That notion gave Jack no joy, but life was filled with regrets.
As he quietly sneaked into the back of the lecture hall, he was confronted by one of them – Colonel Samantha Carter. She was as beautiful as the day they had met and probably twice as sassy, but as confusing as ever. Jack, however, didn't really care much about what she was saying, just enjoyed listening to the sound of her voice and watching. 'Cat can look at a queen, can't he?' O'Neill asked himself.
He wasn't sure he even wanted Carter to know he was there, and considered just watching and listening, and then beating a hasty retreat as she finished. Then he could avoid talking to her. It had been, what, a year, year and a half, more like two since he'd last seen her? Jeez, where did the time go? Jack wasn't sure what he would say anyway after all this time and he couldn't imagine she'd find anything he had to say remotely interesting. Would she want to talk over old times and play catch-up? Why should she?
His maudlin mood was making him regret coming, but as he watched her Jack realised he couldn't allow himself those regrets. She was still special, still important in his mind if not his life. 'Get a grip!' he told himself.
She looked up in his direction, saw him and caught his eye, hers widening with surprise, and she stumbled over her next words, turning her head away to stare steadfastly at another section of the audience.
Jack knew now he'd been spotted there was no escape. He had to stay behind and say hello. It would be downright impolite not to. When Sam turned back to look at him and smiled, he remembered how much he had always loved that smile, and been warmed and comforted by it. It reminded him of old times, of better days. Before… before… so many things.
He nodded back an acknowledgement and noticed that many of the cadets had turned around to look. Jack suddenly wanted to turn tail and run but wasn't going to let anyone accuse him of being a coward, especially not himself. His stern look could quail the hardest of hearts and the audience shied away from it as one. Jack relaxed a little, briefly basking in the smile before she turned away again.
Sam had been one of those people who'd considered him a hero. O'Neill wondered what she thought of that these days, admitting he wouldn't mind a bit of hero worship from her right about now, but he knew everything had changed. A lot of water had passed under that proverbial bridge he'd never crossed - a whole damned ocean's worth.
As she continued her lecture, Sam had to admit to feeling slightly flustered. The last thing she'd expected was for O'Neill to turn up to a lecture. Back in the day, he'd hardly been able to listen to her for more than two minutes without getting jittery. She'd believed that if she wanted to see him she would have to seek him out and had been arguing the toss with herself about that for days now. To see him or not to see him? That was the question.
It seemed Jack O'Neill had taken the choice out of her hands and Sam was feeling slightly affronted by that. As if the infuriating man had ever taken any interest in astrophysics. Yeahsureyabetchya! Sneaky old bastard. 'Thinking about collaring me to reminisce, General? Been a while. Too long,' she thought slightly bitterly, wondering what he'd have to say for himself after all this time. 'Dammit, Sam, control these thoughts and focus.'
Then it struck her how mortified she'd be if he didn't stay behind to say something to her. What if he left without saying a word? The notion struck fear into her heart and once again she stumbled over her words. 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't,' she thought.
Her ex-CO's current occupation more than perplexed Sam. The man was a tactical genius, knew more about survival skills than many of the cadets would ever learn in their lifetimes, and he'd ended up teaching literature. Who would have ever known he had that in him? It might be worthy in its own way, but she considered it wasteful of O'Neill's talents and couldn't help but believe the US Air Force must be thinking the same thing.
She couldn't imagine how he'd got away with it, or what had prompted him to do it, although she'd heard he was extremely good at the job. The most intellectual thing she'd ever seen him read was Mad magazine, so it had her stumped. Jack O'Neill was a puzzle within a conundrum, and clearly way more intelligent and educated than he'd ever let on. Sam had always known there was a lot more to her CO than he cared to reveal, but she would never have guessed at that. Literature? It beggared belief.
As she had a secret desire to discover another Jennifer Hailey while there, Sam shook these thoughts from her mind and concentrated on the job at hand. She could give the lecture without breaking a sweat, but she wanted to observe and find that special someone with a spark. However she was still looking as the lecture and questions wound up and the cadets started to leave the hall.
As the cadets filed out, Jack remained where he was while Sam started to wipe the white board clean and pack away, trying her best to ignore his eyes drilling into her back. When they'd all gone she turned to look up at him and he slowly rose from his seat and made his way down the steps towards the stage.
"Well, this is nice," he said in a voice laden with sarcasm as he stopped to stand beneath the podium.
'I won't bite you idiot,' Sam thought, already angry before they even started to talk. She was disturbed by the hint of bitterness in his voice.
"Sir?" she queried.
"Sam, I think we're way past the sirs, don't you? I'm just plain Jack now. Have been for a while, don't you know?" The ironic smile, eyes dancing with merriment, was all too familiar to Carter.
"Yeah, I'd noticed. We've missed you." She bit back a sigh of regret at the admission, but it was true - they had missed him; she had missed him.
"Well I'm here!" he declared jocularly, waving his arms and hands in the air in a typically O'Neill gesture. "Been here for quite some time too."
Sam detected the tinge of sadness and cursed to herself. They had so let things slip and for the life of her she was at a loss as to why. What had happened to those deep friendships and bonds they'd forged over so many years? Here he was working in Colorado Springs and he never got in touch, in fact he had appeared to deliberately push his old friends out of his life, for whatever reason. None of them could fathom it, but it was his choice.
"You could have called any time," she commented tartly. 'Two can play at the blame game,' she thought snarkily, realising she still understood at least some of what he was thinking. He expected her to call him? What was wrong with Jack making a move or two, for crying out loud? She almost laughed aloud at the unspoken use of one of her ex-CO's favourite phrases.
"Yeah, you too."
They regarded each other silently for a while before Sam broke the spell. "I'm surprised after all those years that none of us ever caught onto this thing you have with literature," she said, not yet willing to tackle those trickier barriers that lay between them.
"Not as dumb as I look huh?" he said smiling thinly.
"I never thought you were dumb."
"Just not the literary type?"
"I would have thought military history or tactics were more your kind of thing."
"I've retired from all that."
"How can you ever retire from saving the world, sir?" she retorted with a small mocking smile and O'Neill couldn't help but grin.
"I wanted to get away from it," he said seriously. "In fact I insisted on it. Sometimes I cover for absences on that kind of thing, but I stubbornly refuse to get drawn in."
"So I've heard. Fancy yourself as Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society? Captain my Captain' and all that?" she asked and he looked at her blankly. "Please don't insult me by pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."
O'Neill shrugged and chuckled. "I guess maybe I do want to see myself a little like that. Inspiring the heroes of tomorrow. What could be nobler than that? So not me, I know, but I kinda like being full of surprises." A small ironic smile was left behind, etched on his lips and glinting in his deep brown eyes as he stopped talking,
"Not quite the normal career path for a retired Major General," Sam commented with a curious frown, still unable to move from her spot on the stage. It irked her that he hadn't bothered to walk up the few stairs to join her, and his standing at the foot of the podium staring up at her was vaguely discomforting."No," he agreed, eyes pulling away from hers and looking down at his feet. Sam wasn't sure exactly what that signified, but it was pretty obvious he felt as awkward as she did. The fact gave her a small measure of perverse self-satisfaction.
"I would have imagined your experience in the military would be more inspiring to the cadets."
"Yeah? And how the hell would you know? It's not like you've been in touch lately." Sam flinched at his scorn and he immediately regretted the sharp retort.
"We all figured you didn't want to know! You pushed us away!" she snapped back angrily and defensively, annoyed she was allowing herself to get irritated by the exasperating man. "You were always such a private person, difficult to be friends with. Making us feel like we were intruding. So I'm sorry if you're pissed and feel we abandoned you or something but get over it - get over yourself!" Sam turned and started to stalk over to the stairs. "Maybe I'll see you around," she added over her shoulder.
Jack's heart sunk at the notion she was leaving, particularly with those parting words. "Sam, don't, please. I'm sorry." She stopped in her tracks and turned, eyeing him with anger still written on the tautness of her lips, but taken aback by his apology. "I figured it was you who didn't want to know me. I guess there's fault on both sides."
"There's sides?" she retorted.
"No, I mean... aw crap!" Jack sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short grey hair, realising he wasn't the only one who was pissed. He guessed he deserved her ire, just as she deserved his. Daniel and Teal'c probably thought the same way too. "Can I buy you a coffee?" he asked suddenly, wanting to make peace with an old and dear friend. "Let's talk a little, huh?"
The tight lines around Sam's mouth smoothed out and turned to a smile. Screw it! If he could back down a little, so could she. "Coffee? Yes, you can buy me a coffee, Jack," she said, placing an emphasis on the use of his forename. "Coffee and cake would be nice."
"Cake? I could get into that," he said, face lighting up at her acceptance.
She made her way down the steps and, as they silently left the lecture hall side by side, Sam shocked and flummoxed him by linking her arm with his. Jack said nothing, just looking down at her with a surprised expression on his face and the hint of an arched eyebrow.
"So, how have you been?" she asked, acting as if this was the most normal and natural thing in the world. Jack figured he liked that and gave her arm an affectionate squeeze, which prompted a big smile.
"So, so, you know. The knees are shot. As for the back…" He grinned when he noticed Sam roll her eyes indulgently. "Same old, same old."
"No, not at all the same old," she asserted, noting the heads turning towards them as they walked along the hallway in their suggestive pose.
"You're angry with me," he stated.
"Yes," she agreed.
"Because I never got in touch?"
"Yes, and lots of other things. I have a whole list," she joked, trying to keep the mood light and breezy.
"What? I abandoned the SGC? I never told you what I genius I am in my own small way?" He would have continued to second-guess her list but she interrupted.
"Actually I've heard you are more than just a small genius, Jack. But yes, both of those things, and more."
"What else have you heard?" he asked inquisitively.
"I've heard a lot of the cadets in your tutorials respect you, adore you actually." Jack beamed at that idea. "So maybe you are Robin Williams after all, Captain my Captain." If it hadn't been Jack O'Neill she was talking to, Sam might have sworn she heard a quiet giggle, but as it was she figured she must have misheard.
"Been keeping tabs on me, Sam?" he asked, more than simply curious. He was pleased she'd taken some interest in his life, even if he hadn't known it.
"Let's just say I've made enquiries."
"I'm flattered, but you never thought of asking me? Am I that unapproachable?" The thought bothered him and Jack wondered why he had protected himself so much, hidden himself away and lost good and dear friends. He didn't have to think too hard, he knew. Was he wholly to blame? Maybe… aw, crap!
"Maybe I thought you should do the asking," she replied, determinedly meeting his gaze. Jack wasn't sure if he interpreted her meaning correctly, but was starting to get the general idea.
"I should have." How could he disagree? 'Shoulda, woulda, coulda…' he thought remorsefully.
"Yes, you should."
They had both paused their stride to stare at each other in silence, until Jack spoke. "I wish I had." he gave her a slight tug and they started moving again, neither meeting the other's eyes but seemingly concentrating on the steps they were taking.
Pleased that he might be willing to admit to that, Sam probed further. "So, why didn't you?"
"Maybe I'm a coward."
"Jack O'Neill? You're kidding, right?" she said, pausing briefly before adding, "It isn't too late."
Surprised, he hesitated again briefly before plunging on towards the commissary. "No? That's good. I'll bear it in mind."
"Yeah, you do that," she said, turning her head to look at him but feeling ill at ease and uncertain as to what they'd just agreed. She was fairly sure they'd agreed something.
Jack merely nodded, looking thoughtful, and nothing more was said until they walked into the commissary. It wasn't particularly crowded at that time of day, and he got coffee and two gigantic portions of chocolate cake, leading her towards a table far away from where anyone else was sitting.
"Congratulations on the promotion, by the way, Colonel," he said eyeing the eagles on her shoulders as they sat down. "I'd heard… should have called I guess." His tone was regretful and, although she might have picked him up again on what had happened in the past, she didn't. They needed to break the ice a little more before raking over the recriminations and regrets. "You deserve it."
She wanted to tell him how much she'd wished he'd been there to see it, maybe even to pin the eagles on her uniform, but she didn't do that either. "Thanks. Dad would have been pleased." Her smile was wistful as she pondered that neither of the two most important men in her life had witnessed the ceremony that had given her so much pleasure, but which had been diminished by their absence.
"He would have been very proud."
"I still miss him," she admitted.
"Of course you do." Jack reached out a hand, grasping one of hers and squeezing gently, and Sam smiled weakly. Her ex-CO had always had a way of making her feel better when she was down. The touch of his hand was still more comforting than almost anything else she could think of.
Lord, how she had missed this man: the smile, the sarcastic and self-deprecating wit, but most of all that reassuring presence. There had been many times over the last couple of years when she had felt the need for it. When he withdrew the hand she felt its absence keenly and they fell silent for a while until Sam spoke.
"I always thought after you retired you'd still hang around, maybe as a consultant to the SGC or something, or maybe get into the training side of things," she said as they sat down. "You know, the cadets we take on at the SGC. I'd have thought we'd be grateful to use your expertise."
Jack regarded her oddly. 'She really doesn't know,' he thought. "Why do you think I'm here, Sam?" he asked aloud.
She looked at him with wide-eyed curiosity. "W-what do you mean?"
"Things aren't always what they seem, that's all I'm saying."
"You mean you're here under cover?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Jack laughed mirthlessly. "Not exactly, but kinda. You think they let me go from the program that easily?"
"I-I… the thought crossed my mind. None of us really know what happened." She dared to capture his eyes, knowing she was on shaky ground because his resignation had been the trigger for everything to fall apart. Or maybe it had started before that, when Jack had been in DC and saw them all so infrequently. Now she thought about it, things had started to drift a little back then, even while he had still maintained contact with the SGC.
Jack looked uneasy, breaking away from her gaze, eyes drifting down to his coffee cup, fingers caressing and kneading the china while his other hand combed through his short grey hair. He seemed unsure of what to say. Jack was a man who rarely expressed his thoughts and feelings. Indeed, he always claimed he was hopeless with words, and it might have seemed that way to many that knew him.
This made his current job even more incredible to imagine. If he was a good teacher then he had to be good with words, right? Maybe he just found it easier with a bunch of strange youngsters than with close friends. That wouldn't have surprised Sam in the slightest and she wondered what he was fearful of exposing about himself. This was a subject she'd considered many times over the years. Men!