"How interesting," she told him, gritting her teeth. He was a stuck-up buffoon.

"And that's why I decided to get involved in business," He finished.

That and your love of money, Kayla thought. Speaking, all she said was, "Well, that's just.... Fascinating."

He looked pleased with himself, and she noted with distaste the smirk on his face as he, for the umpteenth time that evening, raked his eyes over her body.

"Of course, there are definite perks to being in business such as mine," he said, starting what she was sure would be yet another long lecture. Between his arrogant speech, and his leech-like friends, the dinner party she was at was starting to suffocate her. The women all glared at her, as they sized up her slender form, and noted their husbands doing the same. The way their eyes lit up as they gazed at how the silver dress she had chosen for the night flowed gently over her body, made her distinctly uncomfortable, as though she was wearing nothing but a thin layer of plastic.

"Brad," Kayla interrupted him. "I have an early day tomorrow, I think I should get going."

"The evening hasn't even begun yet, Kay," he said, forming a pout that she found to be insufferable.

"Perhaps not for you, but for me, I really do need to go."

He bowed his head slightly.

"Of course. I'll have the valet bring the car around."

He motioned to a passing waiter, and spoke with him while Kayla looked around at her surroundings. The lavish home was certainly a change from her usual atmosphere. Stealing a look at her date for the evening, she sighed. This was the last time that she would ever go on a blind date. Brad Rushings loved to talk about his business, his money, and what he did with his money. The home they were in wasn't his, but he was clearly comfortable amidst such splendor. She herself was a simple woman who loved a homey feel, something that was conspicuously missing from her current hosts ideal.

He held out his arm for her to take. "Ready to go?"

Hoping she didn't appear to eager, she smiled and took the offered arm. "Yes, I am."

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She slammed her purse down on the bed, angrily, nearly breaking the zipper on her dress as she ripped it down. He had kissed her. Hadn't asked permission, hadn't given her any indication as to his intentions, just kissed her. Then had the gall to ask if he could come in, the look in his eyes clearly stating that he had no platonic activities in mind. Needless to say, she had all but slammed the door in his face, wiping at her mouth in disgust. Jack O'Neill would have never been so forward.

Kayla paused in shock, stopping her struggle out of her dress. She had just thought of a student in the context of a date. She collapsed onto the bed, legs weak. She had just broken the sacred trust between a student and a teacher. He was supposed to be able to trust her, and she had just thought of him as a... She hurried to the bathroom, as the little food she had eaten rebelled in her stomach. She'd never be able to look him in the eye again. She had, however mentally, severely crossed the line. As the dry heaves subsided, she leaned her head against the wall, trying desperately to keep from vomiting further.

What had she done?

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Jack walked into school on Monday morning, a lonely weekend past him. He passed Kaylas desk, tossing her a grin as a greeting, blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil and mortification at the reminder of her thoughts. Her weekend had been filled with debates as to whether or not to resign, or request a transfer, or move to Hawaii and change her name. She had struggled with fears, trying to come to grips with the fact that each time she thought of Jack O'Neill, which was often, she felt her heart flip in a way that it hadn't done since her husband had died. She couldn't even fathom what the ramifications of that were; didn't want to.

She had looked up all the stories she could find on Mary Kay Letournou, remembering the revulsion she had felt when she'd initially heard of the case. And now, she, Kayla Morgan, was behaving in exactly the same manner. Perhaps she was not pregnant with her students' child, but her inappropriate feelings, and thoughts, not to mention the dreams she'd been having, were enough for her to be disgusted with herself.

She was thirty-six; she wasn't supposed to, nor was it in any way ethical, to fall in love with a sixteen year old student. And she had come to terms with the fact that, for all practical purposes, she had fallen in love with him. She'd been happily married, before her husband, Jeff, had died in a car accident; she knew what love was. Everything that she knew about Jack O'Neill fascinated her, and drew her to him, and everything that she didn't know was something that she wanted to find out. He had such dignity in the way that he carried himself, a maturity far beyond his years. He dealt with the other students with kindness, if a parentel type manner. He got on better with the teachers than with his peers, and generally avoided the typical teen attitude that ruled the halls of the school. It was more like he was an adult than a student, despite his outer appearance, and everything that she learned about him made her more and more attracted.

As more students walked into the classroom, she tried to pull herself together, mentally preparing herself for the day. All she had to do was to avoid O'Neill, and calling him O'Neill was a good start. The farther away she could get from any kind of closeness to him, the better.

And as soon as she got home, she'd start looking for activities to participate in. Maybe all she needed was to get out more; broaden her horizons so that she wasn't so attracted to the first student who showed a little bit of maturity. And maybe a cold shower would fix all her problems.

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Cassandra sauntered, or did her best to, into her classroom, catching Jacks eye. She slipped into her seat next to him and smiled.

"Hi."

"Hi." He grinned at her. "How was your weekend?"

"Good. Yours?"

"Good."

Cassie took a breath, and plunged in. "So, you hear about the dance on Friday?"

Smooth, Cassie, she berated herself. The posters were only plastered over every hallway in the school. The fact that she was new and had only just learned about it didn't mean that he hadn't already heard about, and gotten a date for, the dance. Of course, she'd now known him for a whole week, and hadn't seen hide nor hair of a girlfriend, which, considering how cute he was, was very surprising. She'd seen several girls practically drooling as he walked by, but no mention of a girlfriend.

"Yeah, I heard about it. You planning on going?" Jack was curious. He hadn't heard anything about a boyfriend since her nasty breakup with Dominic-the-boy-who-was-not-to-be-named, but it had been almost a year since he'd been an active part in her life, and he was definitely out of the loop.

Besides, since returning to teen-dom, he'd quickly realized that highschool dances were not something that he wanted his Cassie to be attending. The kids gyrated like they were pole-dancing, and he wasn't about to allow her to be in that type of atmosphere.

"Actually," he paused, wanting to word it just right. "I think that dances are degrading. Now waltzing, waltzing is good. Dances today are trash, and I generally get as far away from them as possible." Unless he was with Sam. With Sam, married, maybe a couple kids at the babysitters, he could see dancing like that with her. His Cassie, on the other way, no way. She was like his own daughter, and she had another thing coming if she thought he'd let her go. "You should too," he added emphatically.

Cassie was taken aback. There went her plans for a romantic evening.

Still, it wasn't as though it was her personally, it was dances that he didn't like.

"Oh," she tried to hide her disappointment. Well, she'd just have to try another tactic.

"Well, maybe instead of the dance, you could come over to my place for dinner. We can hang out, or something. My aunt will be gone." She raised her eyebrows invitingly.

"Your aunt will be gone? Are you sure?" If Sam wasn't there, that'd be the perfect opportunity to hang out with Cassie. He wasn't exactly sure how or when he wanted to see Carter again, but if she was going to be gone....

"I'm sure." Inwardly, Cassie was jumping up and down. He sounded very interested in making sure that they were alone; that could only mean that he liked her! Now all she had to do was wait until Friday. And pick out a killer outfit.