It was a good thing Daniel had booked his ticket to Washington before he'd read Sam's letter. Almost sixteen hours and a long plane ride later, he still felt raw. He was in no condition for the task ahead of him… but he had a feeling he wouldn't be for a long time. And Sam deserved better.
The Pentagon was a maze, but Daniel knew exactly where he was going. He stepped through the door with Jack's name and title on it and smiled at the secretary who had the patience of a saint. "Is Jack in?"
"He… is," she said, clearly reticent. "But he, um…."
"Doesn't want to see me," Daniel finished. "Yeah, I figured." Digging through his pocket, he held up a USB stick. "Sam – Colonel Carter – left him a letter."
Her eyes darted between him and the drive he held for a moment, clearly conflicted. She wasn't supposed to let him in, but she surely didn't want to deliver something like that herself. "Uh…."
The door to the inner office swung open. "Lieutenant, do you have -" Jack came to a halt mid-step as his gaze, cool and detached, swept over Daniel. He didn't want to let the man in; that was obvious, but he could hardly retreat and slam the door without looking petulant and childish. For a moment, Daniel wasn't sure that would stop him from doing it, but Jack told him simply, "Not a good time."
"I won't take much of it."
So he was cornered. He stepped back into his office but left the door open, and the other man followed. "I'm buried in paperwork," Jack told him gruffly. "What do you need?"
Okay, if that was how he wanted it, Daniel would get straight to the point. "Sam wrote us letters. I gave Cassie and Mark theirs at the funeral, but -" But Jack hadn't shown up. Swallowing all of the emotions that wrought down, he tried again, holding out the memory stick. "I couldn't just e-mail it to you. That felt…." Cold.
The way Jack stared at the tiny piece of plastic, it might as well have been a grenade. He made no move to take it.
Refusing to give up this chance, Daniel left his arm extended. "The court's approved me to execute Sam's estate. Her will says we can all take three sentimental things out of the house. Cassie's coming in over the weekend to look. Do you want to come? Do you know what you might want?"
Jack turned away from him, straightening a stack of papers on the back credenza for no reason at all. "What would I want with her stuff, Daniel? It's not exactly my style."
There was no point in offering something to his back, so Daniel let his arm drop. "It doesn't have to be this weekend. It'll be a couple of months before everything's settled. You can come whenever."
The older man moved his attention from the counter top to the upper cabinet, pulled out a ream of paper, and started to reload his printer.
"Or if you think of something, I can get it for you," Daniel offered. "I just thought you might -"
"I don't want her crap." The words were to the cabinet but incredibly angry. What followed was dismissive. "I've got a lot of work to do, Daniel."
The younger man sucked in a breath through his nose and blew it out. He wasn't going to get any further, but he'd said what he came to say. What Jack did with the information was up to him. "Okay. I'm gonna leave this here, then."
Turning halfway, Jack watched with sharp eyes as Daniel set the USB drive on the edge of his desk and left.