Part 2

I am on the back porch of Jack's cabin and I should feel something more than I am feeling. In the old days, thoughts of being here would've sent tingles through me. Now, I feel nothing.

I hear a noise from inside, a soft curse in Jack O'Neill's grumpy tone. I speculate that he probably tripped on something and stubbed a toe. The image I conjure makes me smile despite myself. How can the man be so graceful and fluid with his movements in the field but so clumsy in his down time? Granted, we'd left suitcases, groceries, and supplies all over the cabin's main room last night. Too tired to unpack anything, we decided to leave it all for the morning.

"Carter," he joins me, handing over a mug of coffee and he takes a sip from his own. "Sleep well?"

"Sure," I say, though it's a lie. I really don't want them to know, but especially Jack. It's hard being here with him. This is a place we used to whisper about in the dark. My heart tugs and I have to look away from him now, before I allow him to see too much in my eyes. "I wanted to watch the sunrise, Sir."

Jack gazes out at the trees and lake. I wonder if he's also remembering those long ago whispered promises. Probably not, I decide. He's obviously over us, it's only me that can't seem to let it go. I'm the one haunted by the fading pattern of his lips on my skin.

I realize that I've not only been grieving Janet and my dad, but Jack too. I threw myself into maintaining a professional relationship with him. I forced myself on the dating scene as a way to forget. But here at the cabin with Jack I can't hide the loss any longer. Tears gather and I sniff them back.

Jack digs a Kleenex out of the pocket of his pajamas. He hands it over, then he casually drops and arm around me. Lightly, not the way he used to when we were lovers. Now it's soft, fleeting, always. A reminder that he's here for me as a friend, nothing more.

Jack says softly, "Dad would've loved this place, I'll bet."

I know he assumes my tears are over the recent loss of my father. It is probably part of the reason Jack has arranged this little trip for all of us. They are all mourning my dad just as much as I am. So often over the years we were a 5-member team. Sometimes I forget that, and how much Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c liked and respected my dad.

As the day progresses Jack's mantra becomes, "Let's not dwell." It's his response to everything. Teal'c has a comment about bugs being much more problematic in this particular part of our planet. I slip and say that we should have done this years ago. Daniel teases Jack about burnt steaks. "Let's not dwell."

Later that evening, Jack finds me again. Daniel and Teal'c are still playing 'Battleship' in the corner and I'm in front of the fireplace, supposedly reading a scientific journal I brought with me. But the words on the page aren't really sticking and I find myself reading the same passage again. It's rare that science doesn't give me an escape.

I give up when Jack settles himself on the floor next to me, back against the sofa and legs stretched out in front of him. "Comfy?" he asks, I'm sure wondering why I prefer the floor.

He's been seeking out these moments all day, just the two of us. It makes me uncomfortable because being close to him, smelling his aftershave and feeling the warmth radiate from his body overloads my senses. I still cannot fight the feelings that I have for this man, even after everything we've been through.

I came here believing it was a team thing. That I would have safety in numbers to protect me, shield me. But Jack's not playing along, keeping distance, as he should. He's being far too much like…like it was before.

I take a breath, exhaling before saying, "Yeah, I'm good. Who's winning?" I refer to the game.

"I'm out, totally sunk." Jack throws over his shoulder, loud enough for the guys to hear, "And I go on record saying that I suspect Teal'c of cheating."

I give Jack a crooked smile. "Sorry," I offer.

"S'ok."

We sit for a while facing the fire, watching the sparks that flash and then die.

"It's kind of ironic," Jack finally says. I look up so he knows I'm listening. He gives a little shrug. "Ya know, we finally defeated all the bad guys, the Pete thing, plus you're no longer under my command…"

I wonder where this is going. Does he want to talk about the transfer to Washington that I'm positive he's having mixed feelings about? It's also the first time he's mentioned Pete since I broke up with him, and I'm not sure how to take it. Jack trails off as if I'm supposed to understand. Usually, I get O'Neill-speak immediately but this one confuses me. I have no idea and it must be obvious on my face because he fills in the blank.

"If things had happened differently… maybe this trip would have been about us getting together for the first time."

His comment is said so casually that it almost compounds the pain that slams into me. Blame. He's laying the blame on me and I never would have expected that from Jack. Anger or cold detachment, those would've been perfectly his MO. But to blame me?

I blame myself, of course, for my weakness, my inability to wait for the perfect moment. But for him to also… I can't hold it back anymore; all the pretending that everything is OK shatters.

"What?" I ask. Anger bubbles up inside me, and that's good because it's masking the anguish. I scramble to my feet, unable to think of what I should say or do next. "How could you…"

I suddenly feel the need to get out, get away, hide. I should've never come here. I can feel the tears coming and I know I cannot fight them this time. I used to turn to Jack in my worst moments, but now I can't face him while this happens, so I run. Out the front door, I run blindly out into the night.

The tears are clouding my eyes so much that I can't see where I'm going. Tree branches and bushes whip my arms and face, but I hardly register them. The pain inside is far worse than anything my body could feel.

In the distance, I hear Jack calling my name. I stumble, tripping over something and land hard. His voice gets closer.

"Damn it, Carter, what the hell?" He reaches a hand under my upper arm and yanks me up. "Are you all right?"

I'm sobbing uncontrollably now, gasping for air, my whole body is aching but it's not from the fall. Jack's arms come around me, tight. Not like the loose friendly stuff of the last few years. No, this is a fierce hug, holding on to me as if the world is ending again.

I realize after a while that I've soaked the shoulder of his T-shirt. Neither of us left the cabin prepared to face the cool night air. But I'm the one that's shivering. My tears subside, my breathing becomes hiccups, and I start to register the sounds and sensations around me.

Jack has one arm around my waist, holding my body tight against his own. The other hand is caressing my back. His lips are against my ear and he is whispering things. Mostly nonsensical shushing, with a few "I know," and "I'm sorry," thrown in.

I go still against him and Jack stops all movements and words. I can read his mind, he believes I'm about to pull away, because that's my MO. I don't lift my head from where it was resting on his shoulder. I don't move away. I say to him, "I'm sorry too."

"What for?" Jack asks.

He sounds surprised and it throws me. One minute he blames me, then he's mad, and the next he can't understand what I could possibly be sorry for? Maybe the dash through the woods clouded his short-term memory?

"I messed up," I state plainly. "I was the one that was supposed to keep us in check."

"Carter," he sighs heavily. "It wasn't your fault. That's not what I was trying to say. I was... wishing."

I bury my head in the V between his neck and shoulder. I breathe in his scent, as well as relish his arms surrounding me. Just like in the days when we stole our moments, it brings me comfort in a way that nothing else can.

"Wishing," I repeat his word. It is an interesting one. Jack O'Neill is a man of few words but they are often carefully crafted.

"Yeah, wishing," he sounds off somehow. He steps back from me, only slightly. "You're freezing. We should get back inside." I hesitate. There are still so many things left unsaid and I'm afraid of losing the moment. He acknowledges, "I know, but I don't want you to freeze. Come on."

We enter the cabin and Daniel looks up at us. "Everything OK?"

"Peachy," Jack says. But Daniel is focused on me, as if only my answer will do.

"I'm fine, Daniel," I reassure. "I'm sorry I scared you guys, I just needed to…" I take a shuttering breath. "I'm OK." Daniel seems relieved and Teal'c bows his head slightly in understanding.

"Carter's gonna get some rest now." Jack takes my hand and tugs me toward the guest room. He seems to waver for a moment, then adds for the guy's sake, "I'm going to read her a bedtime story."

Daniel squints but neither of them say anything and I don't either. I can't speak when my mouth goes dry.