Disclaimer in chapter 1

9

Jack was shaking. All the pent up emotions he felt at Carter's revelations had no outlet. Not here. Not in front of her house with her no doubt watching from the windows. He stared his truck with a roar, slammed it into gear, and took off, spraying gravel in his wake. He got to the end of her street, running the stop sign. Fortunately, there was no one at the intersection, but it did make him realize he shouldn't be driving until he calmed down.

He took a left, circling around the park across the street from Carter's house. Through the sprinkling of trees he could see her lights, and watched them wink out one by one. Either she was sitting in the dark or had taken herself off to bed.

At least that bed would be empty, he thought bitterly. Leaning his head back against the seat, Jack took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind from the images that had erupted the moment Carter confessed. Scenes of the two of them laughing, staring longingly into each other's eyes, spending an afternoon at a park. All the little things, all the normal things couples did. All the things JACK had shared with her that he wasn't allowed to. He was so goddamned jealous of this. . .this other him, he literally couldn't see straight.

He had to calm down and get out of her neighborhood. All she had to do was look through the curtains just right and she'd see his vehicle. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking he couldn't leave her. JACK might need her like that, but he sure as hell didn't.

Starting his truck, he headed home by rote. Not that he frequented her suburb, but he was familiar enough he didn't have to think about his route. Good thing, since his mind continued to scroll snippets of what he imagined her life with JACK to have been like.

He'd stopped at a liquor store, and even though he knew it was a mistake, he saw himself, almost as an outside observer, purchasing the fifth of whiskey. It wasn't even the good stuff. No sense wasting good alcohol on a bender. And he meant to get drunk. Anything that would wipe the images from his mind. He was tempted to take a long swig from the bottle as soon as he reached his truck, but fortunately he still had enough presence of mind to wait until his vehicle was parked in the garage with the keys hidden somewhere before he cracked open his rot gut.

Once home, Jack discarded his jacket onto the floor, just inside the entryway. It had never made it onto his body, even after he'd stopped. God, he felt like shit and he hadn't even started on the whiskey. If he was smart, he'd leave the bottle on the counter, but when had he ever done anything smart? He'd gone and fallen in love with his 2IC for Christ's sake, how smart was that?

Pulling the whiskey from its paper sack, Jack stalked off into the living room, grabbing the TV remote and switching on some sporting event. It was hockey, he vaguely noted, but that was the last thought he gave the television as he collapsed onto his sofa, barely managing to keep the liquor inside the bottle. Angrily, he shoved the scattered newspapers off his coffee table with one booted foot, plopping the other across his ankle.

His first drink was closer to a gulp than a swig, making his eyes water. As the whiskey burned it's way down his throat, Jack found himself wishing the sensation would extend to his brain and burn out the last hour of his life.

He should have left it alone, sent her to MacKenzie and ignored the situation. Like you always do. Hammond probably thought he was doing Jack a favor by letting him settle things with the Major without adding a third party.

"Some favor," he muttered, taking another drink. His throat was still burning from his first go-round so this attempt only tingled. The beer at Carter's had started his belly warming, and the strong alcohol on an empty stomach was fast finishing the job. He knew it wouldn't be long before the pleasant haze started to fog his mind and he couldn't wait.

Staring into his kitchen, he allowed his mind to drift, imagining Sam standing there working on making dinner. In his imagination she was humming some nameless tune while she worked, and he snuck up behind her, grabbing her around the waist. She let out a squeal, raising her fists as she swung around, defense training automatically kicking in. That is until she spotted him. Her hands dropped, her special smile blossoming on her face.

"Jack! You scared me half to death!" But the kiss she rewarded him with told him she hadn't minded in the least.

Jack sighed. Yeah, that's how it should be, he thought, taking another hit from the bottle. But it was never going to happen. Not with him at least. JACK probably already had had his fantasy, and more. God he hated the guy! The thought of that other him making love to her was driving him insane.

How could she do it? If she felt anything for him, how could she have slept with the guy? One time, in a drunken wave of homesickness, he could forgive, maybe even understand. But to live with him? To be his life's companion? To give up and "go native?" He never thought he'd see the day. If Carter was anything, it was loyal, and the thought she'd turned her back on her own universe to embrace his left more than a bitter taste in his mouth. True, she'd come back, but if it hadn't been a decision born of desperation, would she have chosen this existence?

Why should she? Didn't she have it all there? A man he presumed she loved. A man that wasn't off limits. Hell, they could have rode off into the sunset and had a zillion babies with big blue eyes, blonde curls and brains as big as Texas.

He took another drink. It was getting harder to think. He was upset. What was he mad about? Oh, right. Carter. Why was he mad at her? He loved her, why would the thought of her piss him off?

"Shhhh," he sloppily whispered at the TV, clutching the bottle tighter. "Don't tell her I love her. Itsh a shecret." He upended the bottle, finishing the last of the contents. Now it was gone. He should have another one somewhere. Jack tried to stand but wobbled and fell over, back onto the couch, almost knocking it over.

"Whoa. Too fast." He laughed, trying again but with the same result. "You better shtay put, Buddy," he muttered to himself. "learn your place. Your place is sloppy seconds," he breathed. "After she's through with him, maybe she'll think about you."

Jack stared at the ceiling, watching the light fixture spin around the room. "What kind of noises does she make when you're screwing her, JACK? Come on, you can tell me. We're practically the same guy. Don't be shy." He licked sticky, dry lips and spoke again, voice growing hoarse. "Don't kiss and tell? Good man. She'd hate that. No wonder she loves you. Couldn't pry it from me, either." He took a deep breath, sighing on his exhale. " I think I'm shleeping now."

xxxxxx

The room was bright, and it hurt. Why was every light in the goddamn house on? Blinking slowly, Jack came to realize it was no longer night, and the hideously intense light was sunshine streaming in the large windows. He raised his arm to check the time and it felt like lead. 1000. God. His arm fell back against his side as he closed his eyes again, hoping to block the cheerful light and settle the room spinning around him.

He needed water. And to pee. Not necessarily in that order, but to do either required moving and that just wasn't happening. He must have dozed off because the next time Jack opened his eyes, the patch of sun had shifted. He ran a hand over his face, whiskers scratching his palm.

"Crap," he mumbled, grinding the heels of his hands into eyelids. The need to pee had now become critical and like it or not, he had to brave the gyrating room to get to the bathroom. Cautiously sitting up, he kicked the empty bottle on the floor and the scent of stale whiskey washed over him. Feeling his stomach roil, it was becoming even more imperative he reach the bathroom. Once on his feet, Jack took great gulps of air hoping to calm the nausea heading for his esophagus. It had been a long time since he'd "tossed his cookies" after a binge, but he wasn't the drinker he used to be. He hadn't felt the need.

Placing a steading hand on the back of his sofa, Jack momentarily wondered what had triggered his fall into the alcoholic abyss. Oh. Right. Carter. Carter and her betrayal, because he couldn't see it as anything but that. Why couldn't she have had an affair with the Daniel of that universe? Or anyone else for that matter? Why did it have to be him? Okay, maybe not Daniel. That would be really weird.

After he'd taken care of business, Jack looked in the mirror, studying his reflection. "Way to make yourself attractive to the ladies," he quipped, noting there wasn't a single feature of his face that didn't look hung over. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with dark circles, grizzled, unshaved cheeks and chin, hair even more unruly than usual. Yup. Hard to believe Carter would pass this up.

Reaching for the tall glass beside the sink, Jack nearly filled it and downed in in one go. First step to recovery: hydrate. Second step: clean up. As he concentrated on his grooming, Jack consciously shut out any thoughts of how he ended up in this state. Thinking about Carter was not an option. Good luck with that, he thought.

Clean clothes, freshly bushed teeth, and the day was starting to look up. His first order of business was to clean up last night's mess. Somewhere in his stupor he must have gotten the munchies because there was a bag of chips ripped open on the coffee table, it's contents spilling onto the floor. There were also several remnants ground into the upholstery of the sofa, leaving grease stains.

"Son of a bitch," he grouchily swore, brushing the crumbs away. He didn't want to get the vacuum, not only for the inconvenience, but the noise the machine would cause. He wasn't sure his head was up to it. But he was resolved to put last night behind him and picking up the mess was part of that task.

Half an hour later, everything was put to rights, the slight smell of air freshener hanging in the room. Even Teal'c, with his superior senses, wouldn't detect a night of debauchery, Jack reasoned as he replaced the vacuum in the utility closet. He was just closing the door when he heard his doorbell. God, he hoped it wasn't Carter! Anger was still boiling in his gut and he was afraid he'd say something he couldn't take back.

He was still debating pretending not to be home, when Jack was surprised to hear Teal'c's deep voice coming through the entrance. "I believe you are avoiding me, O'Neill."

Jack blinked in surprise. "Teal'c? What are you doing here?" He opened the door, taking a step back when he saw "Murry's" imposing bulk taking up most of the entryway. Sticking his head out the door, Jack looked up and down the street for any vehicle that could have deposited the Jaffa on his stoop.

"Is it not considered an act of hospitality to invite a visitor to enter your dwelling?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Come in," Jack tried to welcome, still dazed at Teal'c's sudden appearance. "How'd you get here?"

"DanielJackson needed to purchase provisions and I asked him to deliver me to your home." Okay, that answered the "how," but the "why" was still a mystery. Teal'c stood in the hallway, hands clasped behind his back. Jack waited for him to elaborate, but Teal'c simply looked at him, a placid expression on his face.

Jack motioned him towards the living room. "Any particular reason you stopped by?" Teal'c followed him, seating himself after Jack landed on the sofa. He removed the over-sized cowboy hat, placing it on an end table and folded his hands together.

"I wish to discuss MajorCarter's recent behavior." Jack felt his stomach drop. There was no way he was going to talk about her to anyone, least of all someone who was a neophyte to Human emotions. True, Teal'c seemed to be an excellent observer and listener, but Jack wasn't ready to have the Jaffa tell him what he saw when he looked at himself and Carter.

Jack opted for obtuse. "Why, has she done something to you?"

Teal'c's gaze remained steadily focused on him. "It is her behavior in regards to you that I wish to speak of."

"I didn't notice anything," Jack lied.

"She seemed most distressed in your presence."

"Did she? She was kinda worked up over the whole time difference thing, but I don't know that it necessarily had anything to do with me." Standing, Jack moved out of Teal'c's line of sight. "You want something to drink?"

"Some fruit juice would be acceptable."

"You got it," Jack replied, anything to get him away from Teal'c's scrutiny.

"There seems to be a lingering scent of alcohol in your relaxation room," he observed. So much for passing the Jaffa sniff test!

"Ah, yeah," was all Jack could think to say, feeling like his team mate was chastising him. Handing Teal'c his glass, Jack wondered how long it would be before Daniel came to collect the cowboy-warrior. Retaking his seat, Jack took a sip from his own glass-filled with water-and stared at the man sitting across from him.

"So, how 'bout those Avs, huh? Quite the game last night."

"Your attempts to distract me will not succeed. I believe it would be beneficial for you to talk of MajorCarter's disquiet."

"Hey, it's her 'disquiet', why don't you talk to her about it?"

Teal'c's half-lidded gaze remained on him. "You fein disinterest, but I believe MajorCarter's actions are distressing to you."

"And where was it again you got your degree in psychology?" Jack asked, picking up the television remote, toying with the device.

"The fact I have no credentials from your world does not mean I have not observed the difference in your behavior. Nor has it passed DanielJackson's notice." Okay, if Daniel saw it, he and Carter had to have been pretty damn obvious. Well, he guessed he had proof of that. Everyone from Hammond on down was telling him to get his house in order.

Jack sat fiddling with the remote, doing his best to ignore the giant Jaffa in the room. "Actually, I did try to talk with her. Last night." Teal'c continued to stare at him, causing Jack's jiggling movements to increase. "It didn't go very well, okay?" Suddenly he was on his feet, moving restlessly around the room. How ridiculous was this, anyway? An alien and an emotional cripple trying to discuss something as nebulous as his jealousy over his 2IC's personal life. He shouldn't even have an opinion on it, much less be upset about it.

"Has something passed between your counterpart and MajorCarter?" Jack looked up sharply at Teal'c. How did he do that? Zero in on the precise dilemma he was experiencing.

"Why would you say that?"

"MajorCarter's reaction and your own."

"I got no problem with Carter," Jack answered a little too quickly.

"I beg to differ, O'Neill. You have become extremely agitated since we have been discussing MajorCarter."

"You're the one who's discussing Carter, not me." Teal'c's stare was unnerving. Granted, the Jaffa was several years his senior, but he was really making Jack feel like an errant child. He knew Teal'c wouldn't drop the subject, but he just couldn't bring himself to talk about Sam sleeping with his doppleganger.

"MajorCarter mentioned having met your counterpart while she was in the other universe."

Jack wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with that statement. "Uh, yeah. So?"

"I would think it would have been most unsettling to find oneself in a world closely resembling our own, but with no friends to turn too."

"Yeah, that would suck," he agreed.

"I would think MajorCarter would have relished her contact with your counterpart."

Jack's pacing escalated. "Why would you say that?"

"I have often observed a special bond the two of you share." Jack winced. Was that damn Za'tarc thing always going to come back and bite him in the ass? "I would imagine the O'Neill of that universe would have been a great comfort to MajorCarter."

That's one word for it, he thought bitterly. "Probably," he conceded. "He did a lot of 'comforting,'" Jack groused, realizing too late he'd probably revealed more of his jealousy to Teal'c than he'd intended.

Teal'c cocked his head and blinked slowly. "Does it not reassure you your counterpart was able to be of assistance to MajorCarter?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Would you rather she had turned to another to find solace?" Jack knew what kind of "solace" Teal'c was referring to, and no, he wouldn't have wanted that.

"No, I guess I'm glad if it had to be someone, it was him."

"Then why is it you seem upset she accepted his offer of association?"

Teal'c's words forced him to examine the sticking point. Because she had acted on it, he answered himself. She'd experienced what it was like to openly love a version of himself and he hadn't had the same opportunity. Jack dropped back down on his sofa. Because I'm a petty, self-centered son-of-a-bitch, he thought. Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he exhaled. "I don't know, Teal'c. Because I'm an idiot."

"I do not believe that is the case. Perhaps if you had a further discussion with MajorCarter you could resolve this impasse."

Jack's head lolled against the back of the sofa. "I don't think she's too anxious to talk to me right now."

"MajorCarter will not hold harsh words against you. I have found her to be most understanding." Teal'c stood then, gathering his hat. "DanielJackson approaches."

Cocking his head, Jack listened for the sound of Daniel's car, but couldn't hear it. A moment later he heard the vehicle in the distance. Jack climbed to his feet, walking Teal'c to the door. He supposed he should thank Teal'c for imparting his unique perspective, but Jack wasn't sure he welcomed the unsolicited advice. Teal'c had gotten him to rethink his position on Carter's actions, but he still wasn't ready to let go of his anger. Not yet.

At the door, Teal'c turned, bowing slightly with the same half smile he often sported. "Good day to you, O'Neill."

"You too. Say 'hi' to Daniel." Teal'c inclined his head slightly once more before turning to leave. As Jack shut the door he continued to puzzle over the Jaffa's visit. Of all the confessors he could have chosen, Teal'c would not have been the obvious choice. He hadn't wanted to unburden himself, but perhaps the Jaffa knew him better than he thought.