When you gonna give to me, give to me
Is it just a matter of time, Sharona?
Is it destiny, destiny
Or is it just a game in my mind, Sharona?
By Berton Averre and Doug Fieger
Chapter 2
It was a good day; it was a singing in the shower day – bright blue, cloudless sunny skies. Off to a job that was challenging and interesting, not to mention working side by side with good friends and one of them a beautiful woman.
Jack was feeling great until he caught sight of the old man in the mirror.
Why didn't he tell her how he felt?
Wasn't it obvious why not?
Speaking of obvious he thought, crap, was he being obvious?
He felt a flare of embarrassment.
He was a military man steeped in tactics. You just did not expose your position to the enemy. But she wasn't the enemy nor were the men and women he served with.
Was he afraid of ridicule? From her? From the rest of the base? Were they laughing behind his back even now? The foolish old guy flirting with the pretty young thing.
Was he destroying something precious to him – her reputation, her future.
He was a full bird colonel, leader of SG-1, and second in command to Hammond of Stargate Command. He was her superior, her commanding officer, her boss. He had a professional position to maintain and he was mooning over her like a teenager. And now with the cop in the picture he had no right. This had to stop. He had to pull himself together.
And there in the forefront of his mind was the look he had gotten from Hammond when Carter was missing on the Prometheus. Missing in the vast endless tracks of space. Missing without the hope of rescue. The general hadn't called him on his behavior but the stern look was warning enough – 'Pull it together Colonel'. It was loud enough even though it hadn't been voiced.
It was probably why he was rude to her when she finally woke up. He was all over the place – sitting by her bed side yet demanding proper respect, then planning a party. She must have thought him off balance. And he was.
And this last disaster, so many lives lost. He didn't let it show but he was terrified he would find he among the dead. One more minute and...
Why did a good day have to turn on a dime to crap? It was a good morning, it was great to wake up to no physical aches and pains thanks of course to Ba'al's little house of horrors. Not that he'd tell anyone. He hated to admit that it had changed him, changed him in more ways than one. He was more morose, anticipating death yet desperately wanting life, feelings of being unworthy of life or love yet craving both. He was a mass of contradictions. Probably could be a case study for that quack MacKenzie.
There were still a few good things to look forward to – Teal'c and he planned pizza and a movie or two tonight, the Friday poker game was scheduled at the sheriff's house. He was sure they'd be back in time even if Daniel wheedled extra day on mission out of him. And sometime this week was the monthly team leaders get together at O'Malley's.
And maybe, if they ever got a break, he could head up to Minnesota for some fishing and quality alone time.
He climbed into the pickup and turned the key, the powerful motor hummed. No opera today – a little driving music. The Knack sped him off to the mountain.