Category – Friendship, Romance

Content Warning – none, except for a bit of gratuitous pity for Pete. I didn't like him as he was in 'Chimera', but I kinda felt bad for him in 'Threads'. Poor heartbroken puppy!

Season – just before 9

Spoilers – general for S8 and 9

Summary – in response to Matt's word of the week challenge 'Solitude'.

Disclaimer – Don't own 'em (although I certainly wouldn't turn down a 6'2 package containing RDA!), and not making any money from 'em.

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Sam breathed in deeply, enjoying the quiet and solitude of this part of the world.

Her Commanding Officer had been after her for years to accompany him to his little retreat in the wilds of Northern Minnesota. And she'd finally given in.

Check that.

Former Commanding Officer.

Sam didn't know whether to be thrilled or terrified by that notion.

Aforementioned former CO had already received confirmation of his re-ass, along with a second set of shiny stars. Maybe it was weird and inappropriate, but Sam couldn't have been more proud of him.

He'd had a rough time settling into the less physically demanding role of CO of the SGC, but he'd been a lot better at it than he'd given himself credit for. His style was certainly different to General Hammond's, but Sam had to admit that she'd gotten a big kick out of the time when he'd put two argumentative ambassadors into a time-out.

Sarcastic and irrepressible, he would blow through the stuffy corridors of the Pentagon like a Class 5 tornado.

There had been no declarations between them. Jack O'Neill wasn't good at the words and, Sam knew, it was far too soon after the rush of events of the last few weeks. The Goa'uld and the Replicators had been defeated, Anubis had been sent packing, her dad had died and she'd split up with Pete.

She allowed a moment to feel sorry for Pete. After a rocky start to their relationship, he'd settled down and they'd had a lot of good times together. He was fun, puppy-dog cute, undemanding.

A safe bet.

Not like the man sitting next to her, fishing rod in hand, nodding off under his cap.

Jack O'Neill was many things, but he'd never be undemanding.

He lifted up his cap and skewered her with sleepy brown eyes. "Stop thinking so much, Sam," he said.

Oh yeah. The minute he'd received his re-ass notice, he'd demanded that she lose the 'Sir'. And he'd stopped calling her 'Carter'. Except when teasing her.

Which he was very, very good at.

"I'll try, s … Jack," Sam replied. She was having a more difficult time stopping the honorific – she'd been using it a good while longer than he'd been using 'Carter'.

She gave a slight shiver as the breeze picked up. She'd never admit it, for the SGC's physicians were always on at her to put on a little weight, but she was just a little too thin to really enjoy the cold.

But Jack O'Neill always knew. The man noticed way more than anyone would assume.

He shuffled his chair over to hers and slung an arm around her, drawing her into his warm body. "Better?" he asked.

"Mmmm," Sam replied.

He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head then recast his line. "Nice!"