Author's Notes:
Alright, everyone prepare your evil looks, Peeeeete has a major appearance in this story... but don't hope he'd be happy about it (at least I am... hehehehe.
Have written this story actually some time ago, but thought it would be nice to share with all the anti-Peeeeete-pals out there.

Thanks go to Sabine (who did a great beta-job; feel hugged), to Shan (who's just one of the best and should get the award for best System Lord) and to Maren (who played again muse; smoochie ;). Thanks go also to Bex... who shares my hatered. XD

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He should be happy for her.
But he wasn't.

He should feel guilty for not being happy for her.
But he didn't.

Right now, all Jack wanted to do was get into his office (the place where nobody supposed him to be), lock the door behind him, switch off the security cameras and bury himself literally in a mountain of paperwork, so that no one may ever find him again.

The problem was, again he didn't do what his brain told him to.
Instead he headed straight to the infirmary, not caring that the alarm-bells in his head screamed 'Fire'.

He didn't even hesitate when his eyes found the name 'Pete Shanahan' on the nameplate beside one of the doors, leading to one of the private rooms.

Inhaling deeply (and turning off the last revolting part of his mind in the process), Jack raised his fist and knocked sharply. As he waited for somebody to call him in (preferably no female being with the name Samantha Carter written on her identity card), the heel of his right foot started tapping the concrete floor. In case he noticed, he preferred to ignore it.

"Yes?"
Male voice... Good.

Jack pushed down the handle and then the door open, stepping in and closing it,
without acknowledging the other person lying in the bed.

"Can I help you, Sir?" The occupant of the room asked.

Jack (still facing the door) narrowed his eyes at hearing 'his' voice and folded his arms across his chest. As he turned towards the owner of the voice, he squared his shoulders and set his face in a neutral expression. "Yes, I really hope you can help me."

The other guy lay opposite Jack in his bed, propped up against a pillow and looking way too comfortbale for Jack's liking.

"So?" One of these loaded questions, Jack had always hated.

Soooo... Jack had to admit, that he actually didn't know what he wanted from 'Peeete'. Alright. Maybe the thought had crossed his mind, to just strangle him to death or at least beat the crap outta his sorry ass, but now that he thought about it, it really wasn't that good an idea...

"How are you feeling?"
Jack could see the nervousness creeping up on that guy and felt some satisfaction.

Pete (not really comfortable) started fidgeting with his hands and crumpled the sheet in the process.
What the hell was he doing here? That guy (his nameplate said 'Colonel O'Neill') didn't seem to be a nurse or Doctor... more like some 'I-could-kill-ya-with-an-elastic-band' type of soldier.

"Fine... peachy, considering that scratch I got two days ago... why?"
"Just asking... How's Carter?"

"I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?"
"Colonel Jack O'Neill, Carter's CO and 2IC of this base."

Yeah, just the right tactic to make lil 'I'm-soooo-far-away-from-home' cop shake with fear. Or not...

"Well, I guess she's fine, too. Gonna get outta here tomorrow and then I hope we'll be able to work this whole mess out to our benefit. Mend some fences, ya know."

At this, Jack's eyelid started twitching.
'To our benefit, my ass!' Jack thought and could feel the anger building up in his stomach.

"Really good to hear... just one last thing..." Jack didn't know why he was going to say this, but now he could't stop himself from doing so. He had to give vent to his anger and get this done.

"If you ever consider to do something that would hurt Sam in any way, I swear I'm going to rip ya apart... slowly. And I have to warn you, I can kill with an elastic band!"
"What? What the hell is going on here?"

Jack pointed his finger warningly at his head.
"I know who you are and where you live, I have my sources... so don't even try to hide."

With that, Jack turned towards the door, ready to leave his new arch-enemy behind. But just as he was about to pull the door open, he heard 'Peeete' chuckle.

That did it.
Spinning around, furious beyond words, Jack watched Mr. Smug angrily.

Now facing the man fully, he stared into his flashing eyes.
Wait... Flashing?

Eyes wide in shock, his brain used the time to boot up again and access the situation properly for the first time since he had entered the room.

Pete's eyes were really flashing, as in 'I'm-a-Goa'uld-with-white-glowing-eyes'-flashing, which was so not good.

"You're a snakehead?" Jack asked incredulously.
Apparently, the Goa'uld didn't think it was necessary to answer him and instead shoved the sheet away, immediately getting to his feet and smiling maliciously.

A Goa'uld stereotype.
"So, you knew who I am, Colonel O'Neill... very unfortunate for you."

Oh, yeah. Flashing eyes, malicious grin and dark growling voice. Either the devil or a Goa'uld, though there weren't that much differences between the two symbols of pure malice.

"I know 'now' who you are... and I don't suppose you go by the name 'Pete', right?"
"No, but my name is not important for you Tau'ri. You will die now."

He had known it right from the start!
He had just known Peeete hadn't been good enough for 'his' Carter! And now, 'Peeete' wasn't even good! If Jack had had a divided personality, his alter ego would probably tell him 'I told you so'.

He was so damn angry.
How could that thing dare to use Carter to get in here? How could he dare to play with her feelings?
How could he dare and take her away from him?

Not wasting another second, Jack pulled out his 9mm, everbody was carrying around on base.
And just as he'd done it uncountable times before, he aimed it at the bad guy's chest...

He heard the Goa'uld call out a 'Nooo', but ignored it. His mind concentrated on the barrel of his weapon.

He felt his finger pull the trigger and could see the projectile leave the 9mm in slow motion, watching it pierce the air and flying towards the Goa'uld...

"Colonel?"
Huh?

"Sir, are you with me?"
Carter? She was here?

Blinking rapidly, Jack tried to get his vision cleared.
He could no longer see the projectile, nor did he see Pete, the Goa'uld, standing in front of him.

Instead he found himself staring through some sort of foggy light into Carter's eyes... which appeared to be quite amused by something. It weren't actually only her eyes that seemed to find something very funny, but also her mouth, which had taken on one of her million-dollar-smiles.

What a beautiful sight for an old guy's eyes.

"Sir... you've been sleeping ever since I've come into the commissry... you tired?"
She was still smiling.

"Sleeping?"
She chuckled and suppressed another one as she saw his bewildered expression.

"Yep. For at least the last ten minutes. I didn't want to wake you, but you started talking and drooli... ." All of a sudden, she looked horrified.

"So here are no maniac ex-boyfriends of yours running around, playing Goa'uld?" He just had to ask... had something to do with the major confusion in his brain.

A huge frown appeared on her forehead and her mouth hung open, as she stared at him, not knowing what to possibly answer him.
"Um... no?" She really didn't have a clue.

"Oh. Alright."
Averting his eyes from the still gaping Major, he noticed her plate standing right in front of him, a piece of toast ready to get eaten. Not asking for permission, he fished the toast off her plate and bit off a large part, chewing happily on it.

All of a sudden, he felt very satisfied.
He may not have had the chance to strangle Peeete to death or at least to beat the crap outta his sorry ass in reality, but in his mind, Carter's latest boy-friend had died, too.

And he had done it. Ha!

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FINIS!

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