O'Neill resisted a full three days before 'phoning the number she had given him, a long time ago, telling him to call her if he ever needed to talk.
She picked up the 'phone and answered. "Hello?"
"Hi Sara."
"Jack?" she sounded surprised, and a little nervous.
"A while ago you said I should call you if I needed a talk."
"Uh, yeah, yeah I did. Now's not such a good time though, Jack."
"Oh. Sorry."
"No, don't hang up. Uh, do you wanna meet for a coffee or something like that? Talk face to face? I'm free in a few hours time. What's bothering you?"
"Uh, the coffee sounds good. What time?" he asked, deliberately avoiding answering the last question.
Sara wasn't fooled; however, she knew O'Neill well enough not to push him. "Umm. Better make it three o'clock. That okay?"
"That's great. See you then."
"Bye then, Jack."
"Bye."
He only vaguely remembered where Sara was living these days, and got lost trying to find her house. Consequently he was fifteen minutes late knocking on the door of the slice of suburbia she shared with her new husband. O'Neill couldn't remember his name.
She opened the door, looking decidedly uneasy, and ushered him inside.
"What's bothering you, Jack?" she asked as he sat on her sofa. There was coffee already made for him, exactly how he liked it, steaming on the table.
"Uh... It's kind of hard to say."
Her eyes widened slightly and suddenly realisation dawned for O'Neill. "It's not about... Not anything to do with... uh, us."
"Oh." She looked relieved.
"I, I just wanted to talk to someone who wasn't... I mean, someone who knows me but doesn't know who I'm talking about."
"Okay..."
He licked his lips nervously. "I, uh, I think I've fallen in love."
She studied his face, suspecting he might be joking. Deciding his statement was genuine she sat back, half-smiling.
"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?"
"She's married to another guy."
"Ouch."
"I mean, she wasn't until three days ago, and I've known her and... loved her, I guess, for a long time before that but now she's married."
"It sounds like you might have left it a bit late to tell her...?" she suggested.
He sighed. "It's worse than that."
"Worse?" She sighed. "You really don't do anything by halves, do you Jack?"
He smiled thinly. "I never have."
"How is it worse, then?"
He sipped his coffee. "I told her how I felt and I... I slept with her."
Sara groaned. "Oh, Jack..."
"And she told me she loved me. Told me... told me that I wasn't the other guy. That he was."
"She loves you too, huh?"
"Yeah, but... then she married him. And now I don't know what to do."
Sara massaged her temples, a habit O'Neill recognised from when they had still lived together; a sign she was considering a knotty problem. "You came here for my advice?"
He nodded.
"Then my advice is to leave well alone. If she's married him, that means she had made her choice. You have to respect that."
His nodded again, his shoulders slumping.
"But.."
"There's a but?"
"There's always a but," she smiled.
"What's the but?"
"Maybe she's made a mistake."
"A mistake?"
"We all make 'em." She paused delicately. "Don't let her mess you around Jack."
"Too late for that."
She regarded him a for a moment, head held to one side. "Is it that blonde woman who works for you? What's her name? Samantha?"
He froze. "What makes you think that?"
She smiled, knowing she had struck a nerve. "She looked like your type. And when you came here to meet Frank..."
"Frank?" he asked, confused.
She made a small noise of dissent. "My husband, Jack."
"Oh. Yeah. Him," he said, having the decency to look at his feet in embarrassment.
"Yeah. Him. Well, when you came here to meet him you were talking about your team. And you mentioned her."
"I did?"
"Only about six times," she grinned, "Carter this, Carter that. And there was something in your eyes."
His eyes dropped to his feet again. "That bad?"
"Nah, not that bad. But I know you better then most people, don't I?"
He nodded. "Yeah, yeah you do."
She picked up his empty coffee mug. "Anything else I can do for you?"
He looked at her, standing with on hand on her hip and he felt a pang of loss for the first time in ages. "No," he answered, standing up himself. "Thank you."
He hugged her, without awkwardness, and kissed her cheek.
"Anytime," she replied, a softness in her eyes and he wondered if, just for a moment, she had felt the pang of loss as well.
He walked outside of her well-ordered home and clambered back into his car. Strangely enough, he actually felt a little better.