Disclaimer: Still don't own Stargate. Wait! … Nope, still nothing.

I couldn't stand it! I just watched Point of View, and I had to do something! Plus, I was intrigued by Major Carter's reaction when Jack comes back through the mirror – the look on her face when she drops her hands to her sides. I wanted to figure out what that meant… So, with true fanfic author hubris, I made it up!

Sam watched through the mirror – her stomach twisting – as Dr. Carter reached for the Colonel. When she saw a flash of hesitation cross his face, she nearly roared in triumph; but her moment of relief evaporated as she saw their lips touch. Sam felt anger and sorrow simultaneously wash over her as her CO responded to the kiss. She found she couldn't breathe. When the two broke apart – clearly reluctant to do so – Dr. Carter ran one hand through Jack's hair and murmured something that Sam could not hear. Seconds later he was through the mirror, and back at her side. Before she even realized it, her hands – so carefully clasped behind her back as she stood at ease – dropped to her sides, and she had to physically restrain herself from grabbing her CO and kissing him right there; regulations be damned. A feeling of severe need cut through Sam, its intensity shocking her. She balled her hands into fists, gritted her teeth, and waited for it to pass. Of course, it didn't.

The Colonel wouldn't look at her as he turned from the room. She wanted to yell; scream for him to stop – make him face her. Her thoughts ran incoherently after him as he disappeared. She knew she wasn't being rational, but the only words that filled her mind were, What about me?!

After being thoroughly looked over by Janet for signs of a concussion, Daniel had insisted on driving Sam home – something she usually enjoyed. The archeologist was like a brother, and the two often told jokes or stories about various aspects of their latest mission. But tonight, neither one seemed eager to share. Sam stared out the window as trees rushed by, wondering if Daniel sensed her sorrow and anger. He must have, she mused, that's probably why he won't let me drive myself home.

Sam threw a half-hearted wave to her friend as she approached the door. Had she been paying attention, she would have seen the frustrated shake of his head as he drove away. Stepping inside the dark house, Sam left the lights off until she reached her bedroom. Shucking the military uniform she hadn't realized she was still wearing, she grabbed a pair of pajamas and headed for the bathroom, wincing as her eyes adjusted to the light. She immediately wished she had left it off.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Sam leaned on the sink as her nose inched closer to the glass. One hand reached up to toy with her hair, and she began to weigh the benefits of growing it out. Only one reason came to mind, however, and it brought with it the still close memory of the kiss. Bitterness welled inside her again. It wasn't that she didn't have feelings for Jack – she just couldn't act on them as Dr. Carter could! Regulations forbade such a relationship from being considered. And yet, as she saw Jack so tenderly holding her, Sam realized with a deep longing that she would like nothing more than to discover how that felt. She crossed her arms protectively in front of her chest, her hands coming to rest on opposite shoulders as she became mesmerized by her own eyes. Short blonde hair attracted her gaze once more, and she fought the urge to begin pulling it out by the roots. It was so… military, and she looked at it for a moment in disgust. It represented everything that stood in her way – everything that kept her from Jack.

Why not resign? The conspiratorial voice caught her off guard. She watched in the mirror as the expression on her face became one of guarded hope. Could she abandon SG-1 for a chance at happiness with its leader? Of course not, the more rational part of herself replied. The SGC needs you.

Sam began to cry, her body shaking with sobs as tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. In this reality, she and Jack may have helped save Earth from destruction by the Goa'uld, but they didn't have each other. Not the way Dr. Carter and her O'Neill had. But – she reminded herself stubbornly – in that reality, Jack is dead. It was the same for the reality that Daniel visited; Sam and Jack were together, but in that case both had died. We either get to be happy for a brief moment before meeting a nasty end, or we deny our feelings and save Earth. It was a steep price to pay – one that would never be acknowledged by a medal for bravery or an unexpected promotion. There was nothing she could do, and the realization only made her sob harder. It's not fair!

Finally, Sam could stand it no more. Straightening to her full height, she looked at the "army brat" before her as she balled her hands into fists. Pulling back, she hit the glass with everything she had, smirking a bit at the satisfying crunch it made as it splintered. Sam saw her tear-stained face reflected a dozen times in the broken mirror before striding from the room. She wouldn't notice the large cut on her hand until the next day; her sheets ruined by the stain of her own blood. After showering and bandaging the wound, Sam called a cab, and got to work half an hour earlier than usual – though she was sure Daniel would interpret her fervor as self-depreciating obsession. Best to get a head start on saving the world again, she thought bitterly.

Disappearing into her lab, she didn't surface until Daniel and Teal'c literally dragged her from the room to get something to eat. She sat at their usual lunch table, staring at the cold remnants of a bland turkey sandwich when a new figure sat down in front of her. Daniel quietly excused himself, taking Teal'c along with him, but Sam forced herself to keep staring at her plate, as though her food had just performed some great magical feat and she didn't want to miss the encore. She rested her elbows on the table and her hands on her arms as she contemplated just how long it would take if she decided to watch mold grow.

Jack cleared his throat loudly, but Sam refused to look at him. She knew she was being childish, but at the moment she didn't really care. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he gestured to the bandage on her right hand. "What happened?" he asked, sounding concerned. Sam shook her head. If he still didn't know, she wouldn't be the one to tell him. Not today.

"Nothing," she answered curtly, depositing her unappetizing food in the trash and walking quickly from the room.

Nothing at all…

Well that was just chock full of angst, wasn't it?! This was originally intended as a one shot, but if you like it, I may be able to continue.