Title: Monday Mornings

Author: Jojo

Email: randomleaves@yahoo.co.uk

Rating: PG

Summary: Monday mornings with Sam and Jack

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is an original MGM, Greenburg/Anderson, Gekko, Top Secret, Kawoosh! production. Any material relating to Stargate SG-1 is for entertainment only, and is in no way meant as an infringement on copyrights. In other words, I own nadda.

Spoilers: Solitudes, The First Commandment, 100 Days

Timing: Late Season 3/Early Season 4

Status: Complete

*

*

*

"Hey, Carter, how's it going?"

"I'm procrastinating," she muttered, staring at the top of her laptop mutinously.

He dropped down onto a chair and slid her cup of coffee towards her. "Get on with it. The sooner you start the sooner... you know."

She picked the cup up by its rim and sat it down on the coaster. "Cliché."

"It's Monday morning, gimme a break."

She smiled and opened her lap top, and Jack sat back in his chair, looking at her desk calendar with the date prominently displayed in red. Monday 26th.

Monday morning was always going to be his.

*

*

It had started years ago - soon after the Antarctica mission, in fact. He'd hobbled by to see her one Monday morning, to thank her for saving his leg (oh, yes, Dr Fraiser had made that very clear - the pain of Carter's splinting had been normal), to find her actually in her office doing paperwork. Rare was the occasion when Captain Carter pulled herself away from her lab and actually made it to her office to sit down and type out reports and project updates. She'd revealed - after he'd teased her for a good five minutes - that if they weren't on a mission then she always did paperwork for at least two hours every Monday morning.

Her expression told him that she didn't enjoy this task in the slightest.

He'd voiced his admiration for her dedication - Jack liked to do paperwork in sporadic bursts throughout the week - and she'd all but pleaded with him to stay and entertain her. Okay, she hadn't done that. She'd insinuated that she wouldn't mind if he hung around in case she had any questions which he, as her CO and a veteran Air Force officer, would be able to answer for her.

That she'd sucked up to get him to hang around was hint enough for Jack. He'd dropped, with relief, into a chair and carefully arranged his healing leg comfortably. Or as comfortably as he could considering it was itching like *crazy*.

Carter had seemed pleased.

So, every Monday morning - if they weren't on a mission - he'd arrive at her office at about nine o'clock, carrying two cups of coffee and a newspaper. By 'accident'.

The first couple of months, he'd just peppered her with questions - about the wormhole, the physics behind it, how to wire a DHD, and any other technical things that might come in handy in the future. She didn't have any problems explaining things to him, even if she had to explain the same concept over and over again (with fruit or whatever came to hand - on one particular occasion it had been a really sugary donut). When he'd exhausted all possible scientific concepts, he started talking to her about other things.

Initially, it was SGC-related things - 'Did you see Davis's new haircut? Man, I'd sue', 'I swear, someone's stealing my memos. Don't laugh at me. I'm not kidding', 'Holy... crap, is that your report? It's, like, fifty pages long!'. And she'd either giggle or gasp in astonishment, all the while tapping away at her computer, multitasking away like it was easy holding a conversation with him and writing up the latest in wormhole advanced technology.

Clearly, she was a genius.

After a while, SGC conversation became littered with personal stuff. They started small - favourite foods, colours, TV shows and drinks. Nothing too personal. He began to realise that there were things about Carter that she didn't want him to know, just as there were things that he would probably never tell her either.

And, initially, they were okay with that.

Then things got rough. The ease and innocence that had began their relationship - the teasing and flirting - suddenly became really... truthful. At least, on his part. Because, one day, Jack realised he was flirting with her. Really flirting with her. In the sense that he wanted the flirting to go somewhere.

Which horrified him.

Thankfully, two weeks after he'd realised, he got stuck on Edora. And missed three months worth of Mondays.

Weirdly enough, every Monday he'd been there, he would wake up early and lie in bed, wondering what he was missing. It had taken him a few weeks to work out why he felt like that, why he felt strange on certain days. He lost count of the dates - the Edorans went by a completely different timescale - and it was only when he sat down one afternoon and worked it out that Jack found out he was missing Monday mornings with Carter.

For two months after Edora, though, Jack missed even more Monday mornings. Initially because he'd been instructed to play a part in the NID trap, then because he just hadn't felt comfortable around her anymore. She'd worked religiously to bring him home and he wasn't stupid - he knew what that meant.

It seemed dangerous to him. Fine - he could think about her a good deal less platonically then he ought to, because he'd known it wouldn't go anywhere. He knew how to keep it in check, even if it did warm him considerably at night. He'd known, simply, that she hadn't felt the same. But, now, apparently she did. *Why* he didn't even want to think about. 'Lunatic fringe' came to mind.

*

*

"What is it this morning?"

She lifted up her file and sighed. "P3G 545."

He furrowed his brow. "What the... oh. The Dippers."

"Dipiens."

"Whatever." She tried not to smile. He could see her cheek muscles tensing and he really, really wanted to break her. "Give in, Carter. Dippers. Just imagine me saying that to their Head Dipper's face."

The grin broke through. He suspected it was the 'Head Dipper' that did it. "God," she said wearily. "You are *such* a..."

Jack's eyebrows shot up excitedly - it wasn't every day she almost insulted him. "Please, continue."

"I will not."

"I think you're pouting, Carter."

She gritted her teeth, looking firmly at her laptop screen. Her finger jabbed at the keyboard. "I. Am. Not."

He chuckled and reached for her snow globe. It had appeared only a few months before and he had this very paranoid suspicion that she'd brought it in for him to play with.

Slumping in his chair and kicking his feet up onto the other chair, Jack balanced the snow globe on his chest so he could admire it close up.

A sixth sense had him glancing up, meeting her eyes. She was staring at him strangely, a little smile on her face. "What?" he asked.

Carter shook her head, and he was surprised to see her blush. "Nothing, sir."

The same sixth sense told Jack that it was probably better not to ask.

He grinned, though. And she grinned right back.

*

*

Somehow, after Edora and his secret mission, they'd got back to their Monday morning routine. Even Daniel knew by now not to drop in to see Carter unannounced during their 'alone time'. For that was what it was. Jack told himself, despite whatever they may feel for each other, that it was only an exercise in team bonding. He spent way less time with Carter than he did with Teal'c or Daniel and this was his way of making up for it.

Besides, he enjoyed it. It was the one time during the week when he allowed himself to enjoy her company. Sometimes he brought her the latest scientist magazine that just happened to catch his eye, sometimes she printed off articles about a new discovery in space - an interest they both shared. Weird to think that - he and Carter had something in common.

At some point, Jack told her that Charlie had loved space too. It had just come out. Accidentally. He'd been worried that she might freeze up - he'd never told her about Charlie, though he knew Daniel had - but she'd simply smiled in that way that made him feel glad he'd told her, and not awkward.

After that, they both started doing it - dropping in their deepest, most personal thoughts into the conversation. Her family, his family. Her childhood, his childhood. The chair that he sat on crept closer to her desk so he could, on occasion, lean on it and watch what she was doing.

It wasn't all talking. Sometimes she really did get some work done. Sometimes he brought reports to read. Sometimes they had their Monday mornings in the infirmary, playing a game of chess, the board on a table between their beds. Off-world, Monday morning rituals would be followed through by either walking together or sitting together for a time, no matter how short. It became almost second nature.

*

*

"What are you looking for?" she demanded testily.

He ducked under her arm, pulling open her bottom desk drawer and burrowing through it. "I know it's in here somewhere... God, Carter, you keep a lot of crap in here."

"If you're looking for those chocolates," her voice was almost sulky, "you finished them off last week."

"I *know* that. No, I snuck in here last Friday and hid a bag of... Here they are. Want one?"

She peered into the bag of candy. "You hid this in my desk?" Carter asked, her fingers hovering indecisively. She pounced, predictably, on a blue-raspberry-coloured one and slid it into her mouth.

"Yeah. Daniel always discovers where I hide mine." He eased himself up to standing and looked down at her screen. "Damn. How come my reports never look like that?"

"You don't use the right template."

"We have templates?"

"Even Teal'c knows that."

Jack snorted and popped a candy into his mouth. "Hammond never complains."

"He knows better. Besides, he probably thinks it's a load of nonsense, anyway. Content and not presentation and all that."

He grinned. "Oh yeah, I'm sure that's the reason he's not pointed it out to me. You ended a sentence with a preposition, here," he said, leaning forwards and pointing it out.

Snorting in a ladylike fashion, she clicked on the offending word and moved it. "Yes, sir!"

"I think I preferred you with your chip on your shoulder."

She wiggled her shoulders experimentally, as if the chip was still bothering her. "Sorry."

He patted a shoulder and walked around to her filing cabinet. "Do you still store your chocolate bars in here?"

Slanting a look his way, Carter kept her face blank. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Rolling his eyes, Jack pulled open the top drawer and flicked along to 'c'. And there, tucked in between 'Cimmeria' and 'Clalleska' was a half eaten chocolate bar. Jack looked at the candy in his left hand and at the chocolate bar. Oooh, decisions, decisions...

"Colonel, if you eat my chocolate, there's a distinct possibility Janet will have her long needles out next time we have a physical."

Ah.

Jack slid the drawer shut and wandered over to his chair, flopping down into it and admiring the shiny ends of his boots.

Yup. Monday mornings were always going to be his.