Jack had never found the separation between his work and his personal life so difficult. On the one hand, he was Colonel Jonathan O'Neill, of the United States Air Force. He led his team, SG-1, through the top-secret Stargate to alien worlds light years from Earth, making the galaxy safe for peace-loving beings everywhere.

On the other, he was Jack O'Neill. An ordinary man on the verge of a torrid relationship with a beautiful but mysterious jazz singer. A woman who appeared to like him, with all his quirks. A woman who never asked questions about his unexplained absences and minor injuries. A woman who tasted like moonlight and whose body fit next to his as if made to be there.

He'd never thought of himself as one of those touchy-feely kind of guys, but the need to sample, to touch her, was one he gave in to as often as possible. Fortunately, she seemed similarly afflicted, though they were both being very careful with the physical aspect of their developing relationship.

He'd been married before, for fifteen years, to a woman he'd loved with all his heart. But Sara had never been part of his life in Special Ops. She and their son Charlie had been his refuge from the horrors of his classified and highly dangerous career. He'd never wanted it to touch her. Them.

He'd never felt such an overwhelming urge to talk to Sara about what he was doing, the good and the bad. Even after those hideous months in Iraq, he had handled the aftermath of his capture, torture, and subsequent rescue on his own. Sara and Charlie and his life with them had nothing to do with the reality.

But he found himself having to be cautious around Anna, and that didn't set well with him. Normally, it was second nature for him to dodge the questions, redirect the small talk away from his job under Cheyenne Mountain. With Anna, he'd caught himself more times than he could count on the verge of saying something revealing. On his own. Without even an indirect probe from her.

Once he'd even turned to say something to her when he was on a mission a bajillion light years from Earth. She seemed to be with him, in his head, even when she wasn't there.

For someone who hadn't felt more than an occasional twinge for a woman in too long to remember, he was certainly feeling a barrage of them now. He hadn't been a monk over the past years, but his life had felt empty, and he'd wanted it that way, until Anna.

It should have made him nervous. It should have made him suspicious. Instead, he was nervous and suspicious because he wasn't nervous and suspicious. He'd even broken several rules - which didn't necessarily bother him - and used the base computers to look her up. And he didn't find anything he didn't already know.

Except that she'd been married. And had born a child. And that both husband and daughter were dead.

Two facts that she hadn't mentioned in all their time together. Was that what gave her that air of sadness and secrets he had yet to break through? Was that what put the haunted look in her eyes?

He glanced down at the pad he was currently doodling on. Daniel was in the middle of one of his long, involved debriefings about what they'd uncovered on P6H-blah blah blah, and Jack had already heard it. He saw that he'd drawn Anna's name and outlined it with wavy lines and - Oh, Jeez! - That was a heart with an arrow through it! He quickly began scratching it out, shooting looks right and left to see if Carter or Teal'c seated on either side had noticed his high school slip-of-the-pen.

"So, Colonel, what are your recommendations?" General Hammond questioned Jack, ignoring his second-in-command's frantic scribbling.

"Hmm?" Jack looked up, startled to be called upon in the midst of his cover-up. "Oh. Yeah. Recommendations. It's a good spot for an off-world base, Sir. The ruins are defensible, with some minor improvements. And Daniel's whatchamacallums..."

"Hieroglyphics." The archeologist inserted.

"Yeah... His new little pictures will keep the science boys busy for a while. I'd say put SG-14 and SG-11 on a standard recon for a few weeks, maybe send up a drone or two, see what's around farther away from the Gate. Then set up the base." He shrugged and, for good measure, pulled off his doodling sheet and wadded it up. "Whatever the Latin is for what comes after Alpha and Beta."

"Cappa." His know-it-all major chimed in. Carter returned the smirk in good kind.

"Whatever. Cappa Site, then. Though it sounds like a coffee shop to me."

"Very well, Colonel, draw up the duty rosters and distribute them to SG's 11 and 14. We'll put the Cappa site on rotation for the science teams. Dr. Jackson, I'll need your recommendations for science personnel." General Hammond stood, causing O'Neill and Carter, the other Air Force officers in the room, to stand as well. "Take a few days off people. I'll see you all back here on Monday."

"Certainly, General Hammond." "Yes, Sir." "Thank you, Sir."

"Have a nice weekend yourself, Sir." Jack was oblivious to the looks his teammates exchanged as he sank a jump shot with his balled up paper in the waste can in the corner of the room. "Well, kids, that's the end of another rousing week at Stargate Command. Join us next time for the continuing adventures of SG-1."

Jack was about to swing onto the stairs but was stopped by Daniel's loud comment. "Going to disappear on us again, Jack?"

He dropped back to face his team. They sat at the table, facing him with varying degrees of discomfort and belligerence. "Whaddaya mean, Danny?"

"I mean," Daniel scrunched his face up like the words he had to say tasted bad. "That whenever we've been on Earth lately, you've done a disappearing act on us. You're off-base as soon as you can, and you're never around if we want to do stuff together. Like hang out or go to the movies or anything." Daniel passed off the comment to Carter.

"It's like you don't want to be with us if it's not work. Like you're avoiding us."

Teal'c added in his two cents. "Indeed, O'Neill. It appears that you do not wish to be in our company."

Jack took in their faces and shoved his hands into his pockets. Rocked on his feet a couple times. "I've just been busy, that's all." He shrugged.

"With what?" Yeah. Trust Carter to not leave something lie.

"Well..." Maybe it was time. "You want to come with, meet me topside in twenty. I gotta post those new rotations first." He continued his swing up the stairs, wondering if they would, or not. Wondering if this was a good thing - or not. But he needed to see Anna and his closest friends together. To see what they thought of each other, if they got along.

Besides, it would be a nice way of avoiding a conversation with Anna about her family that he wasn't sure he was ready to have. Because he hadn't told her about Charlie yet, either.

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The Getaway was in full Saturday night swing when Jack and his three companions stepped through the door. Tommy and his two baseball buddies called a greeting from the bar that Jack answered with a wave. They were met at the 'Please wait to be seated' sign by the fresh-faced Kelli-with-an-I.

"Hey, Jack. Wasn't sure if we were gonna see you tonight. You brought friends? Super! You'll need a table then, right? Your timing's really great, we just had one free up." Kelli chirped at them as she escorted them to a free table and took their drink orders. "Anna's totally rocking tonight. I'll let her know you're here."

"Thanks, Kelli. She knows already." Jack had seen her as soon as he'd entered. He watched her, talking to some of her regular fans, then she sensed him - across a crowded room no less. She turned and spotted him right off, like he'd called her name, and sent him that fabulous smile before turning back to her conversation.

"Super! Be right back."

Daniel and Teal'c watched the waitress sashay away, her short skirt flipping cheekily. Teal'c's eyebrow raised in appreciation and Daniel sighed as he turned back to face Sam's sarcastic look and Jack's smile. "Perky little thing, isn't she?" He asked of no one at the table in particular. "So, Jack. Who's Anna and why does she need to know you're here?"

"Ah... Well... Anna's just... She's the, ah..." His rambling non-answer was interrupted by Anna's combo picking up a rambunctious Latin tune. One of his favorites, he recognized, Night and Day, the first song he'd heard her sing. His companions ignored the instrumental disturbance waiting for his answer. When Anna began to sing, he nodded at the stage. "That's Anna. Anna Jordan. She's the singer here."

Three heads swivelled in unison to watch the stage. Anna was, as Kelli had said, rocking. Piano, bass, and guitar were swinging together with Anna leading the way. Jack had heard her sing enough now that he could tell a good performance from a great one - and this one was darn good.

"Jack," Daniel had to stop and swallow, which didn't hurt Jack's ego a bit, "She's beautiful."

"Yes. Yes, she is." Jack responded proudly. Particularly tonight. She was all in black - Anna had the ability to give the term 'little black dress' an entirely new meaning - accented only by her emeralds. The gems sparkled less brightly than the woman herself.

"Indeed, O'Neill, I concur with Daniel Jackson's opinion. What type of music is she singing?" Teal'c had trouble still with all the different music of his adopted planet. On Chulak, music was restricted to the priests and priestesses of the temples.

"It's called jazz, Teal'c."

"I was under the impression that jazz music involved the use of wind instruments and the singing of a land called Dixie."

"That's Dixieland jazz. This is... newer, mostly." He was saved from a detailed discussion of the history of the art form by the arrival of their drinks.

"Hey, Jack-o, mon. Ya worthless son of a dog! Didn't t'ink ya had da spine ta show dat ugly face o' yours roun' here so casual like." Tommy gracefully slipped his impressive bulk between the close tables with the skill of long practice. Four frosty glasses were deposited on the table.

"Can I help it if nobody else in this dump can pick a winner?" Jack picked up his beer and aimed a toast at the huge black man.

"One win, I can see it. Maybe two, if ya had a lucky charm." Tommy turned to the others at the table and jerked a huge thumb at a smug-looking O'Neill. "But da mon what picks winners four weeks in a row has ta have da devil's own help. Won t'ree hundred fifty dollars off da rest of us poor mortal souls."

Jack shrugged with mock humility. "Baseball pool." He added in explanation to the others. "I guess, since I'm flush now, this had better be on me."

Tommy reared back with a huge laugh. "Hah! I guess you be right 'bout that!" He stood with his fists propped on his hips. "So ya better be for buyin' supper, as well. My Belle, she got sump'tin' special she want ya ta try. I'll tell 'er ya finally come in."

"How about it? You guys game?" He asked of his companions. With their general agreement, Tommy aimed a half-hearted slap at Jack's head as he headed away.

Daniel watched the retreating Tommy, as well. "You make the most interesting friends, Jack."

"Thanks, I think."

Anna had a front row seat to observe Jack and his three friends. And they were friends, that much was quite clear to her from their body language and casual interactions. But more, she saw these people were special to Jack. Not just friends. Family.

Whatever he did at Cheyenne Mountain involved them, and she was more convinced now that what he did had very little to do with radar and more to do with raiding. She knew it was dangerous - she didn't need to look far to see the evidence every time he came back from one of his "business trips."

Bumps, scraps, ugly bruises, bad strains, strange burn-like marks. Once, it had been a bullet wound. She could feel them as if they were her own, and she ached at not being able to help him, or even to ask him about them. She knew he wouldn't - couldn't - tell her.

She accepted that, or thought she had, because she had things she wasn't telling him as well. Though it was becoming clear to her that she would have to, sooner rather than later. Her feelings and emotions for this exasperating man had reached a point from which she couldn't turn away.

The people he had brought with him tonight had something in common. Shared danger formed strong bonds, and the four people sitting at the table eating Belle's special were tightly knit together.

A professorial-looking man, despite the well-toned body beneath the nondescript polo shirt and khakis. Brown hair and mild blue eyes behind studious glasses. A man who watched. Not like Jack did - with an eye for trouble and back-up plan - but how people did what they did, with who and how.

She hadn't thought he was dangerous until she saw him react to a glass being shattered on the floor behind him. He was out of his chair and reaching for a non-existent weapon faster than she could see. The look in his eyes hadn't been professorial or mild in that moment. He had covered it well, helping the flustered Kelli to clear up the mess, but Anna had seen. The scholar and the soldier.

There was no such division in the other man at the table. Here was danger made flesh. A warrior. Purely, simply. A large, physically imposing man who seldom spoke, but was always listened to. A force, she was sure, to be reckoned with on or off the battlefield. A man who was comfortable with violence, yet one who was careful of his strength.

But it was the woman at the table that Anna found herself watching. Perhaps because the woman always seemed to be watching back. She was a blond, blue-eyed natural beauty with a smile full of laughter. Slender, though Anna never assumed that meant weak. One of those women who could pull off wearing her Hepburn-esque slim pants and long coats with both body and soul. Confidence oozed out her pores.

Jack worked every day with a woman any man would give up an extremity for. What is he doing spending all his free time with me? Anna thought bleakly. She felt woefully self-conscious and inadequate.

She finished the last song of the set and announced her usual fifteen minute break, acknowledging Jack's wave of invitation with a nod.

"Going to get a once over from the parents, I see." Walter said with a smirk. "Bet they check your teeth, too."

Lee's guitar started the theme from "Jaws." "Oh, stop it!" Anna replied crankily. She already felt on the defensive and her own friends weren't making it any easier. To give herself a minute to settle, she went to the bar for her water before swinging around the back of the floor towards Jack's table.

Samantha Carter wasn't having a good night. Especially since she'd learned that the reason Colonel O'Neill - she always had to think of him as her CO - had played hide-and-seek with them the last two months was another woman.

A very beautiful woman. A woman who's lush curves - Sam was absolutely sure - had never been mistaken for a boy's. A woman who sang wonderful songs about love and romance with a voice that promised a man everything. Who gestured languidly with perfectly manicured, long-fingered hands. Sam curled her cracked, torn fingernails into her palms.

The Colonel always saw her with her hands wrapped around a P-90 and wearing a flak jacket. There was no way she could compete with this Anna woman in her simply elegant black dress that showed off miles of shapely legs and quite a bit of curvy breast. Sam bit her lip and wished once again she'd chosen something more feminine to wear that night.

"So, Jack." Daniel began as he scraped up the last of a surprisingly wonderful meal. He'd let his friend off the hook while they ate, but he intended to get to the bottom of Jack's new relationship.

"You haven't been here all these days, what have you and Anna been up to?"

"I don't know, Daniel," Jack started, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Just normal people stuff."

"Normal people stuff?"

"Yeah, you know, the kinds of things that don't involve galaxy-hopping and dealing with snake-heads." He threw the napkin down and leaned back in his chair.

"I am unfamiliar with the courting rituals of the Tau'ri." Teal'c put in. "What do humans do in preparation for mating?"

Daniel didn't think he'd ever seen Jack turn that particular shade of red before. "Listen," Jack said firmly. "We're not courting or preparing for any kind of..." Here he had to stop and swallow down the panic. "Mating. We're just hanging out together. Doing stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Sam asked swirling her beer in her glass, without looking at him.

"Jeez! Look, okay... Stuff like dinner, the movies." He stared at the three faces listening, expecting more from him. "We... Ah... Went shopping for a credential, or something like that, for her dining room."

"A credenza?" Daniel asked, incredulous. Jack hated antiquing.

"Yeah, that's it. What else..." Jack searched his mind back over the last weeks. "We repainted my spare room. There's a bed in there now if you guys need to crash at my place. We put a fish pond in her back yard. I taught her to drive and we found a car for her. We've been hiking and fishing and...."

"You took her fishing?" Sam was both surprised and hurt. Fishing - or rather, the act of fishing, since he never managed to catch much - was something very special for her CO.

"Well, yeah. Just around here, up in the mountains. We haven't had the time to go to my place in Minnesota." Jack shrugged, a little uncomfortably. Sam had always refused his invitations to go fishing. "She doesn't actually fish. Usually meditates or does her yoga thing. Reads. We talk a lot."

"You? Talk?" Jack was starting to become slightly offended at the surprise in his friends' voices. Daniel sounded like he'd just admitted to being a bank robber instead of a conversationalist.

He raised a sarcastic brow. "I'm talking now, aren't I? See my lips moving?"

"I know you can talk, it's just-"

Daniel was interrupted by a low, husky voice. "Jack?"

Sam found Anna Jordan as stunning in person as up on the stage under the spotlight. And she felt the beginning of an ending for something that had never really started.

The Colonel - her Colonel - stood when Anna came to the table. They didn't exchange a kiss or hug, or another greeting. Just a look. That was all. And their fingers twined, joining them more completely than full body contact. Sam sighed at how right they looked together.

"Hey! Guys, this is Anna Jordan." His gesture swept around the table. Daniel and Teal'c both stood. He pulled up an extra chair from near-by as Daniel held out a hand.

"Ah... Hi. Daniel Jackson. We're very pleased to meet you."

"I feel the same way." Ah, the dangerous professor. Anna smiled into incredibly blue eyes that smiled right back.

Jack wasn't surprised that Anna had made a conquest so quickly. He took over the introductions, indicating the other end of the table. "This is... ah... Murray."

Teal'c inclined his head in his usual gesture. "It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Anna returned the slight bow. It was a warrior's gesture, one she appreciated.

Jack turned to the last member of SG-1. "And Samantha Carter."

"Major Sam Carter." He watched with some concern as the two women studied one another. Carter's emphasis of her rank worried him.

"Major." Anna returned the challenging look evenly as she sat in the chair Jack held for her. "Even in these enlightened times it takes courage and endurance to reach so high in the military. I admire women with your strength."

Effectively complimented and charmed by the simple sincerity she saw in the other woman's eyes, Sam could only swallow her anger and stammer her thanks before taking another drink of beer to ease her tight throat.

"Major Carter possesses those qualities in great abundance." Teal'c wasn't disturbed by becoming the object of Anna Jordan's scrutiny.

"What rank are you... Murray?" She was sure that wasn't his right name, but was also sure she would get no other.

"I hold no rank in the military of this country."

"But..." Anna turned in confusion towards Jack. "He's like you."

"Ex-cuse me?" Jack exchanged a look with Teal'c. "Don't see the resemblance, myself."
"No, I mean..." Anna tried to explain. "He moves like you. Watches things, people, like you. I just thought he must have the same training."

"He 'watches' things like me?" Jack turned his chair around to sit with his arms propped across the back.

"I've learned quite a bit about watching from being around you." She glanced at 'Murray' before facing Jack squarely. "There's a man sitting at your usual bar stool. Describe him for me."

"What...?" Jack turned instinctively to take a look.

Anna caught his head in her hands and looked into his eyes. "What's he wearing, Jack?"

"I didn't get a good look at him." Anna just smiled. He closed his eyes and tried to call the picture to mind. "All right. Ah... Brown loafers, tan khakis, white shirt, open at the neck. His tie's stuck in the left pocket of his tan windbreaker. Eyes brown, hair brown. He's had two beers-"

"Three, O'Neill." Teal'c corrected him.

"Three, then. He's a light-weight. Tommy's about to cut him off." When Anna smiled again and dropped her hands, he swivelled around to check his aim. It was a direct hit.

"But you didn't get a good look." Sam said, tongue in cheek. She hadn't noticed the man in particular, but obviously Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c had. Conspirators now, she and Anna smiled at each other.

Jack shrugged and threw up his hands. "He's sitting in my spot!"

"It wouldn't have mattered if I'd asked you about anybody else in the place. You still could have described them for me." Anna placed her hand on his arm. "It's what you do, Jack. It's who you are. The same as...Murray."

"Indeed. I have had training very similar to O'Neill's."

"Just - not from around here." Anna received another regal nod of affirmation. She wanted to probe further - the urge was nearly overwhelming - but she had made herself a promise a long time ago. And these were Jack's friends. "Well. I am glad to meet you. I was beginning to think that Jack had made all his friends up."

They all laughed, as she'd hoped, and the conversation continued on a lighter vein. When she had to return to the stage, Anna made her farewells. A look, a smile, a squeeze of hands was goodbye from Jack.

He watched her weave her way to the front and just couldn't leave it at that. With a mumbled excuse to his friends, he followed after her. He wasn't watching behind him so he missed the speculative look they shared.

"Anna! Hey!" Jack caught up with her at the side of the stage. God, he loved it when she smiled at him like that. "I... Ah..." He jerked a thumb towards the table over his shoulder. "I'm going to have to take...Murray back to the Base before you're done tonight. I... Ah."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow." She stepped close to him, felt the heat from his body seep into her.

"Yeah." He linked their fingers together. It was a discreet gesture. One he'd grown accustomed to. "Call me when you're up, we'll do something. Maybe dinner at my place."

"That sounds like a plan." She glanced over his shoulder. Three pairs of eyes were riveted on the two of them. "Do you think your friends would be scandalized if you kissed me?"

"God, I hope so." He responded with a smile, tugging her that final step. His mouth touched hers lightly, always keeping in mind that they were basically standing under a spotlight and not in the relative darkness and anonymity of her porch. Still, the feel of her lips, soft and warm against his, the taste of her, honey and moonlight, dragged him as close to the edge as ever.

"Hmm." Anna's sigh of pleasure as he lifted his head nearly did him in. "I'll definitely call you."

"Okay. Um... Yeah. I'll just... Ah, go back to the... ah..."

"Table."

"Yeah. The, ah, table. See you." He backed away and bumped into a chair, righted himself and sheepishly returned to his friends while Anna stepped on stage to finish her show.

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Anna drove home slowly through the warm night air, the top down on the cute red convertible Jack had found for her. Driving was still new enough that she relished the feel of being in charge of her own car. Jack had told her that knowing how to drive would give her a sense of freedom - to go where she wanted, whenever she wanted, but it was the control that she appreciated most of all. He had given her that, along with everything else.

When she turned the corner onto her street, her heart gave a jump of happiness at seeing Jack's monster of a truck parked in front of her house. She accepted her reaction. And the emotions that went along with it.

She hadn't thought to guard her heart. It had never before needed protection. But in the last few weeks, she'd felt herself sliding, slipping, tumbling down the steep slope into love.

She had come to understand that they might have something together. That they might be something together. Whatever their differences. Whatever the risks. He lived in a violent world that was very different from her own, but with her he would have a refuge. A place for the kindness and tenderness she had seen in him. He'd allowed her to see that part of him, a part she knew he'd shared with few others. Maybe only those three she'd met tonight.

There had been a little boy he'd taught to cast a fishing line out at the lake. The stray dog that came by every day for the plate of scraps he left out. The way he'd flirted with old Mrs. Able in the produce section and made her cheeks as pink as cotton candy.

The way he watched her when she was performing. The pride in his eyes when she'd mastered parallel parking. Seeing those eyes go from whiskey brown to onyx black when he kissed her.

Though accepting that she loved this exasperating, demanding, secretive man hadn't been easy, she had in the end. Because there was nothing else that she could do.

It wasn't in her nature to fight with her fate. What would be, would be. She would deal with whatever consequences there were.

She parked in front of his truck and got out, picking up her shoulder bag from the passenger seat, and went up the walkway towards him. Jack sat on the top of her front stairs, waiting for her.

"Hello, there. I thought I wasn't going to see you 'til tomorrow." Jack rose and took her bag from her, setting it on the porch behind him. "Did you get Murray back to the Base?"

"Yeah." He urged her to sit on the step in front of him and began to rub her shoulders, another little ritual he'd become accustomed to. "I... Was driving home, and I ended up here."

"That's a nice thought." Anna simply melted under his hands. "Mmm. That feels wonderful."

"You have a lot of tension in your upper back and neck. Most women do."

"So it's a 'girl thing' then?"

"Guys handle stress differently. It usually involves swearing and fisticuffs." She chuckled and then groaned as Jack found a particularly nasty knot. He worked away most of the tension, but kept on rubbing, just to keep his hands on her. He really liked having his hands on her.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I need to ask you a question. And I need you to answer me as honestly as you can."

"Oo-kay." He responded cautiously. He'd answer if he could. Unless she was going to ask him about what he did for the Air Force with Carter, Daniel, and 'Murray.'

"Is there anything between you and Major Carter?" She felt his hands still in their massage and knew she's caught him by surprise. He was silent a minute, and she wondered if he was going to answer her.

"Military regulations prohibit 'anything' from occurring between personnel in the direct chain of command."

Anna grasped his hands and swung around to face him. "I never guessed that you were such a stickler for regulations. And that wasn't my question."

He stood up and took the steps slowly to the bottom to stare, unseeing, at the night sky. "There's rules, and then there's rules."

When he didn't say anything further, Anna tried again. "Jack, she's a beautiful, intelligent, strong woman. I think I'd be more disappointed if you weren't attracted to her."

He turned back with a slight grin. "So you're not asking because you're jealous?"

"I didn't say that." She returned his smile and went to him, curved her palm around one cheek. "You have ties to her. To all three of them. They're there for anybody to see. And I'm not asking you to break them, or even change them." Her hand dropped away. "I just need to be sure you're free to make new ties with me."

He looked at her, searching her face, her eyes, before taking a few more steps down the walk. Anna stayed where she was, her arms crossed on her chest. He turned his gaze upward again. "I can't tell you that Carter and I haven't had our moments. Buts that's all they were. Moments. Little pieces of time outside of what was real. We both knew that. Know that."

"She's very... protective of you." She sat on the stair. Major Carter's suspicion had practically burned the air between them.

"Yeah. Well, I guess I feel the same way about her." Jack came back to sit next to her and take her hand in his. "I care a lot about Sam. A lot more than I should as her commanding officer. She's special to me." He squeezed the fingers he'd twined together to bring her gaze to his. "But she's not for me, Anna. If what Sam and I felt for each other was so special - so important - one of us would have already taken the steps to make sure we could have a relationship."

"Why haven't you?"

"Because she's got her own life to live. And I have mine. I don't have any guilty feelings about being with you, Anna. I wouldn't be here if I didn't feel free to be."

"I guess I already knew that."

"Then we've had this whole painful conversation because...?" Actually, he felt she'd gone kind of easy on him. She was always making it easy for him to open himself up to her.

"I think I just needed to hear you say it." Anna's wonderful laugh soothed him. "Thank you for it. I suppose you'll think I owe you one now."

"So pay up." At her confused look, he continued. "You asked me a question, I get to ask you one. Same rules. Honest question, honest answer."

"All right." He appreciated that her agreement was as cautious as his had been.

"Why haven't you told me about your husband and daughter?"

He winced at the grief and fresh hurt he saw in the moonlight. "You've been doing your homework."

She hadn't said it as an accusation, but almost as if she'd expected it. "I guess it's not any of my business..." But she cut him off, and when she turned to face him, he saw the tears glimmering in the darkness. A knife twisted somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.

"If it's anybody's business, it would be yours." She swiped at the wetness on her cheeks almost impatiently. "I'm sorry. I ..." She swallowed back the rest of the tears, though it seemed she had an endless supply when it came to this subject. "I don't talk about it - I try to not think about it. It's like there's a gaping wound in my soul where she was."

Where she was, not they. Anna spoke of losing her daughter, not her husband. Jack wanted only to comfort her when she pressed her fingers into her eyes, as if to hold the tears in. "You can't know what it's like. To know you'll never see her go to her first day of school, or graduate from college. Get married, have children of her own. To sit in her room and have her things all around you and not have her. You can't know how painful that is."

So she was going to make that easy for him, too. He took her hands again, rubbing his thumbs soothingly across the tender skin of her knuckles. "I can know." He didn't look up, but felt her question anyway. "You remember, I told you I had an ex-wife?" He did look then, to see her nod of agreement. "Our son, Charlie. He... shot himself. With my hand gun. He was 10 years old."

"Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry. I didn't..." Her hand was warm against his face, soothing him now.

"No. You didn't know. Now you do." He wrapped his arms around her, taking the comfort she offered so effortlessly, so generously. Realizing he was giving it back to her, effortlessly, generously. In the sky above, a shooting star traced a fiery arc. He held on and rested his cheek on her hair, and made a wish. "Will you tell me what happened?"

Nodding again, she pulled him back to sit beside her on the stairs. For a long minute she said nothing, only stared at her tightly clasped hands. "You deserve the whole story, though parts of it will be hard for you to accept. I'm a very different person now, than I was then."

"Everybody changes, Anna. I'm not the same man now, either."

Sighing, she organized her thoughts. "Do you understand how people - whole societies, really - can live right alongside everyone else in the world, and yet, not really be a part of it?"

He shrugged lightly. "Sure, I guess. You got your Amish. Your Mormons. Your Kennedy family."

"Very much like the Kennedy's, I'm afraid. My marriage was an arranged one. To the eldest son of the family who raised me."

She couldn't have said anything more unbelievable to him. "An arranged marriage? In this day and age?"

"It's the traditional way to do things where I come from. And I can't tell you that my mother would have chosen any differently, had she been alive. She might have even discussed it before she died. Richard was eminently suitable, and it might have been the reason I was placed with the Sullivans."

She sounded so matter-of-fact about it. "And you agreed to this?"

"I told you, I was very different. Very - biddable - I suppose you could say. It was the way it was done. I didn't know any other." Her hands rose and fell in front of her in a helpless gesture. "And Richard was my friend. I thought he was, anyway. One of the few I was allowed. I thought that friendship could be the basis for something more, something deeper."

"But it wasn't."

"No." Her voice was quiet, resigned. "Our wedding night was a disaster, and it went downhill from there. But I'd been taught to do my duty. To be the wife that was expected of me. It was eight years before I could even think about being discontent. Another two before I could work up the courage to tell him."

"What did he say?" Abuse didn't always take the form of beatings. Aggressive indifference could be just as bad.

"He was very contrite, of course." She sighed heavily and rose to walk, her arms wrapped tight around her. "He persuaded me to give our marriage another try." She turned back to face him. "But I was starting to see things differently. I was about to tell him it was over when I found out I was pregnant."

"You didn't have to stay just because of that."

"No, I didn't. But I did stay, and in the end, I was glad I had. Maia was a beautiful child. A princess. And Richard adored her. We both did. She gave us a common ground, and even if we couldn't live together as husband and wife, for five years we were very successful together as parents."

Jack couldn't imagine it. It sounded so bloodless. So passionless. He couldn't reconcile the image she painted of herself with the woman he knew. "How did they die?"

She closed her eyes, seeing them, her husband and her daughter, as she hadn't allowed herself to see them for a long time. "It was a few days before her fifth birthday. We were going to have a party, and Maia wanted a new dress. A pink one, with frills and bows." She smiled at the memory of her daughter's girlish demand. "Richard and Maia were coming to meet me downtown so we could go shopping."

When she had to stop and take a deep breath, Jack gathered her close, her cheek nestled against his heart as if it belonged there. The tears were falling, fast and silent when she continued.

"They'd barely left the house. Running late. Richard was always running late. If they'd left when they were supposed to... If I hadn't asked them to come pick me up..."

Jack gave her a quick shake, wishing he'd never asked her, so she wouldn't have had to relive it again. "Anna, don't. It wasn't your fault. Whatever happened, it was not your fault."

"I know. I know." It was threatening to choke her, the feelings, the memories. She had to tell it now, or she never would. She buried her head in his shoulder drawing strength from him. "They were hit, head on, by a drunk driver. They were both killed instantly."

He said nothing, for there was nothing to say. He could only hold her as she cried, feeling the tears soak through his shirt. He cradled her head and held on, feeling his own grief mix with hers. Feeling that she cried for both of them. For Richard and Maia. For Charlie. Her tears were the catharsis he'd long denied himself.

He'd told Daniel, years before, that Charlie's death was something he could sometimes forget, but that he could never forgive himself for. Now, after so many years, so many tears shed and unshed, he could almost believe. Maybe... Maybe it hadn't been his fault either.

When he felt her calming, he began to run his hands over her back, soothing as he might have a child, until she sniffled one last time and drew away. He dug in his pocket for a handkerchief, but dried her tears himself. "There. Is that all now?"

"Most of it. Thank you."

"For making you cry?"

"For letting me. There's a big difference." She returned to the steps and sat, twisting his handkerchief in a familiar gesture. "Do you want to hear the rest?"

He sat beside her and she rested her cheek against his shoulder. "I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me."

"I don't remember much of what happened afterwards. It was such a dark place I went to." Jack knew all about that dark place, and what it cost to get out. Thank God for Daniel. "It was a long time, and I was hospitalized at some point." She began to play idly with his fingers. "When I came home, after, it was as if someone else was in my body doing normal things - shopping for groceries, cleaning house, seeing people. It wasn't really me. But they started to think I was all right again." She laughed, a quiet, sarcastic sound. "And they started to tell me I should marry again. Have a child again."

"The bastards." He said with some heat. He didn't know who they were, he hated them anyway, for what they had put her through. She only laughed again, this time more freely. Closer to the laugh he treasured.

"Yes. Exactly. And if I had been what they expected, it would have worked. But I wasn't the biddable young woman they'd dealt with before. And I wouldn't do what they wanted me to do." She shrugged off twenty-five years of her life. "They basically said that if I wouldn't fall into line, I'd have to leave. So I left."

"What did you do? Where did you go?" She'd had nothing, no one, and had left her whole world behind.

"I moved around quite a bit. Trying to find a place to be, to live. I visited Ireland. Tried out Florida and California and places in between. Then I found myself in Colorado Springs. And I fell in love with this house." She gestured fondly behind her. "I found the Getaway, and Tommy and Belle, and my band. I found my place, my life. I began to feel alive again." Her hands came up to frame his face. "And then, a handsome Air Force colonel walked through the door. And my life hasn't been the same since."

It was so natural to move into his arms, to his lips. So easy and right to be tucked next to his side, to feel his hands move over her. Even though everything she'd been raised to believe told her it was wrong. He wasn't like her. He never would be. He'd never understand her. Believe her. He would end up using her, hating her, betraying her.

But how could what she felt for him be wrong when she loved him so completely?

She made him feel like a boy fumbling over his first girl. Except that he'd never felt this awkward with anything female before. Something was tearing loose inside of him. Something hard and unyielding that was being replaced with the wonder and the magic that was always between them.

The hunger and the impatient pull of desire was new to her. She felt it only with him. His kiss was urgent, she felt that as well. But beneath it was a caring she'd dreamed of, hoped for. Seduced by that alone, she murmured his name.

Tenderness came easily with her, and her sigh was like music. Her mouth, warm and sweet, moved over his face. She removed the layers he'd covered himself with. Not of cloth or kevlar, but layers of sarcasm and aloofness, the armor he'd built to survive. With her, he was helpless, more vulnerable than he'd been since he was a child. With her, he felt more of a man than he'd ever hoped to be.

She felt the change in him. The explosion of feelings and needs as he dragged her up into his arms to crush his mouth to hers. It poured into her, leaving her breathless and shaken. Without understanding, without needing to, her heart answered him with equal passion.

He wanted her, as he'd wanted few things in his life. He felt her melting surrender and realized he could have her. All of her. Her body, her mind, her incredibly generous soul. All he had to do was reach out for it. He wondered if she knew what she was offering him. "Anna," he murmured as he nuzzled his favorite spot behind her ear, up to her temple. "Ask me to stay tonight."

She drew in a breath and sent up a silent prayer to whatever deity would listen that she was making the right choice. "You know I want that, too."

He saw the hesitation in her eyes, heard it in her voice. "But?"

"I can't. Not now." If it could have been so easy, simple nights of pleasure and nothing more, there wouldn't have been a problem. Love complicated matters.

"Why not now, when you did before."

"Because I'm a coward."

"That's bullshit." His frown was immediate. It had taken more courage than most people had to survive what she'd just told him. Then another reason surfaced. Coming on the heels of the story of her marriage, he couldn't help but think it. "Anna, are you afraid of me? Of... being with me?"

"No." When her answer was immediate and baffled, he knew he'd been wrong. "No, Jack. I'm afraid of losing you. And don't tell me that it can't happen because you know it can."

"Yeah. Okay. It can happen. But I'm not planning on it." He set her down with a hard jolt on the step beside him and stood. Frustration showed in the impatient hand he pushed through his hair. "Anna, if this is some game you're playing...."

"It's no game, Jack." With a snort of disgust he paced away. "You know me better than anyone. My likes, my dislikes. My strengths, my weaknesses. All my hopes. All my secrets, now. All of them. Except one."

Secrets, he thought bitterly. When was he going to be able to get away from them? He directed a hard look over his shoulder. "Then tell me."

"It's not that simple. You know it's never that simple." A mistake here would cost her more than her heart. "Can you tell me what you really do for the Air Force at Cheyenne Mountain?"

For a second, Anna actually thought he would. She saw the struggle cross his face, the tension seep into his body. In the end, his training won, as she'd known it would. "You know I can't do that."

"You can't. Because of your duty. Your honor." She moved in front of him, to look him in the eye. "I understand about secrets, Jack. About why they have to be made. About why they have to be kept." Her smile was a little melancholy. "When you come to my bed, I won't be able to keep this one from you."

Well, at least she'd said when, Jack thought positively, then a suspicion formed. "You're not like, going to tell me your really a man, or anything like that, are you?"

"No, I'm not." She could finally smile easily. "But that might be easier for you to accept than the truth."

"Okay, now I'm really curious." He pulled her to stand in the circle of his arms. "So what do we do now?"

"Can you give me some time?"

"All you want." She saw his sly smile. "Within reason. How long do you think you'll need?"

"You said something about dinner tomorrow...?"

He blinked in surprise. "Sure. Come on over whenever you're ready." Distressingly, he saw tears in her eyes again. "Anna." He feathered a kiss over her lips.

"Jack. I..." She had to stop, before she revealed too much, too soon. "I don't deserve you."

"I think that's supposed to be my line."

Anna linked her arms around his neck and rested her head on his chest. She felt him rub his cheek over her hair in an expected gesture. Her sigh was contented - she hadn't messed things up yet. "You can say it next time."

"It's a deal."

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Jack's biceps protested as he pushed himself through another rep on the weight machine he'd set up in his spare bedroom. The bedroom that Anna had helped him paint and furnish. Once she'd discovered the little used room and the fact that his friends often ended up sleeping on the couch or the floor, she'd nagged him until he'd agreed to remedy the situation.

The trip to the home improvement store should have been excruciating. Standing around being hounded by an overly-enthusiastic clerk, surrounded by thousands of little colored slips of paper, trying to decide on just the right shade of cream for the walls of a room he never intended to use himself. Instead, it had been another example of something that was fun to do with Anna. She made everything fun.

He moved around the side of the machine and set the weight pin in place on the next exercise in his routine. Sitting down, his feet found the pedals and he pushed down. His abused knee made a grating sound that he ignored as he continued the leg presses.

What he couldn't ignore anymore was the way he felt about Anna. They'd eventually settled on 'Vanilla Latte' for the walls, and somewhere between the taping, cutting in and rolling, he'd realized he'd fallen in love with her.

He even knew the exact moment. He'd made one of his typical smart ass remarks - probably about the paint color - and she'd looked up at him, paint smeared across her cheek, and smiled. Just that. Just a smile. And he'd gone face first. Splat! Not even a knee jerk reaction to stop himself.

He hadn't even wanted to. It was crazy. He had to be out of his mind. Certifiable, looney, wacky, deranged, touched. And he'd been telling himself that for some time now. But he was in love with her, so wildly in love that he couldn't get through an hour without thinking about her. Without wishing for her. Without imagining that maybe, somehow, it could work.

And if that wasn't the most irrational thought he'd ever had, he wasn't sure what was. The whole business was just... Crazy. What the hell was he thinking of?

Her, he realized, letting the weights clang home abruptly. He was always thinking of her.

Sighing, he ripped off his T-shirt and buried his face in the sweaty cotton. It was eating a hole in him that he couldn't tell her, couldn't even talk to her, about his work. It made him feel guilty the way his feelings for Carter didn't. After Sarah, he'd vowed he'd never get involved with a woman that he couldn't share his whole life with. It just wasn't fair. To her or to him.

But here he was, in exactly that situation. Caught between the work he loved and the woman he loved. Something was going to have to give, soon, or he was pretty sure that, given a choice, he'd retire for the third and final time whether she asked him to or not.

Hell, he'd probably dance naked on the moon if she asked him to.

With that image seared into his brain he went to take a shower. He dropped his clothes in the hamper - another Anna addition - and stepped under the hot spray.

Okay, he thought with the water beating down on his head, retirement wasn't so bad, really. He'd already tried it twice and, really, aside from the utter boredom, it hadn't been so bad. He reached for the soap, lathered up.

They'd have a lot more time to spend together. His place. Her place. At his cabin in Minnesota. Maybe she'd like to tour, go out on the road. She was talented enough, beautiful enough, she'd be wildly popular. If that was what she wanted.

He ducked back under the water. That was the crux of the matter, wasn't it. He wasn't sure what she wanted. He wasn't even sure she loved him back and here he was, blissfully planning their future. He snapped the water off and reached for a towel, sure he'd gone absolutely bonkers.

And what was with this secret thingy she had to tell him about, anyway?

Since he'd left her last night he'd run through various possible scenarios. Even some wildly improbable ones. Everything from "Well, Jack, I'm really a lesbian" to her being the secret love child of Elvis. He gave a dismissive snort at his image in the mirror and headed into the bedroom to search for clean clothes.

Nothing really played true. She could have some major disease maybe. Or she could have done something illegal, but that probably would have popped on his computer search. He couldn't imagine anything - from this world anyway - that could be so bad. There just wasn't any secret she could tell him that would make him even think about leaving her.

He caught himself staring out his bedroom window, watching for her, and tried to shake off his ominous mood. Well, he'd find out soon enough. Not one to dwell on an unpleasant task, he grabbed up the Sunday paper and a beer, and headed out to the sunshine on his deck.

Anna parked her car in the street and resolutely headed for Jack's front door. Her courage, which had carried her this far, deserted her when she lifted her hand to knock.

What in the world was she doing? she thought, not for the first, or even the fortieth, time. How was it that she was about to give her complete trust to a man she'd only known a few months?

Hadn't she learned that people didn't last in her life? That there were no happily-ever-afters? Not for her. Her hand fell to her side.

She had friends, acquaintances, people she knew, that she felt close to, people she went out and did things with, but she'd learned through painful experience not to let her involvement with others move beyond a natural friendliness.

She knew them, these friends of hers, but they didn't know her. Couldn't know her. Her training and her experience told her that. There were precious few who could accept what was out of the ordinary. The price of being who she was, and having what she had, was being alone. Even among those who did know her, she was apart. Separate. Isolated. Segregated.

Still, it had never particularly bothered her to be alone. To go her own way. What she had told Jack so many weeks ago had been nothing but the truth. She'd been content. Not looking for or wanting anything - anyone - more.

She'd made herself a promise the day she'd walked out of her former life. A promise that she would be only who she wanted to be, once she found out who that was. A promise she'd realized and kept for a long time.

Then a man had walked into her comfortable little life. A man she shared no common ground with, but who had showed her exactly what was missing. A man who'd ignited a spark that had changed everything. It hadn't mattered that she was intelligent, successful, independent. Simply by existing, Jack O'Neill had altered the scope and pattern of her life.

Fate had brought her here, in this place and this time. The same fate that had brought her to this man. This taciturn, physical man who held both serenity and violence inside him. A man who would bring serenity and violence into her life. She needed no seer to tell her that.

The question now was whether she was strong enough to deal with the consequences of revealing herself to him. If he could accept her for who she was, then her prize could be a lifetime of happiness. That vision of her future seemed too good to be meant for her. If he couldn't, it would mean the complete loss of her current life. Anna Jordan would have to disappear. Tonight. She would have to leave everything she'd built here and never return.

Anna paced the walk in front of Jack's door. What was she doing? Why hadn't she stopped herself from falling in love with him? Again, as all through the long night, there was no coherent answer. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to pull herself together, knowing what the answer was, finally forcing herself to accept it.

She couldn't have stopped it, and wouldn't have if she'd realized it was happening in the first place. It had been too late, much too late, from that first drink, that first conversation. Love was the strongest and truest of magics, and if she loved unwisely, at least she had felt it, pure and sweet, once in her life.

At one time, in the darkest time, she'd thought love wasn't inside her to feel or to give to a man. Yet she couldn't deny that because of Jack O'Neill she did. That was a priceless gift he had given her, a piece of herself. Because of that, she would not regret what fate and love brought to her after today. The consequences of the truth would be lived with, because the alternative was living a lie.

With renewed resolve, Anna returned to the door and raised her fist to knock. And nearly screamed when the door jerked open first.

"Hi!" Jack said, putting a hand on her arm to steady her when she jumped back. "I thought I heard a car drive up."

"Yes. I..." She indicated her car at the curb over her shoulder, struggling to adjust her intentions faced with the reality of Jack O'Neill.

"Come on in." He stood aside and let her enter. He wanted to grab her, and hold her, and tell her that whatever it was she had to tell him, it didn't matter. Instead, he made polite small talk and hated himself. "Do you want something to drink?" He gestured with the beer bottle he held. "Or there's some wine left over from dinner."

"The wine sounds lovely." She made a move towards the kitchen before he stopped her.

"I'll get it. Why don't you go out on the deck."

Leaving him to it, she moved through the house towards the back. The fact was, she needed the few extra seconds to gather her thoughts, to step out in the warming sun and consider her options.

The deck wrapped around the end of Jack's house was currently wreathed in dappled light. Growing up in distinctly urban New York, Anna had found she liked the trees of her adopted state. They gave shade and an illusion of privacy that she treasured. There was the murmur of the creek that tumbled close by, as well. Running her fingers along the rail, she chose a seat on the corner bench and tried to calm her mind.

It was how he saw he when he came out of the house. A beautiful woman in a sunbeam yellow dress, curled up on the worn wood, the sunlight spangling her hair, her face thrown back to the clear, blue sky. He realized that looking at her was becoming a habit he wasn't sure he could break. Desire was a hard fist in his stomach. Love, a nervous undercurrent in his mind. It was only with an effort that he pushed both aside to concentrate on here and now.

"Here." He handed her the crystal glass of wine red as blood and retreated to the other side of the paper-strewn table. The silence stretched, broken only by the liquid call of the birds.

Anna sipped at her wine, trying to find the words to begin. To tell him what he deserved to know. She wasn't up for the brash way. It wasn't her. And the subtle, round-about approach wouldn't work with Jack. Ditto for any intellectual or scientific explanation. Maybe a practical demonstration would be best for the literal-minded Jack O'Neill.

"Anna. You don't have to be nervous about telling me anything."

She turned her head to see his profile. "You do understand me, don't you."

"Some." He tried to shrug casually and just felt his shoulders tense up, as if to receive a blow. "We don't have to do this now. I can live with a little mystery in my life. Hell, I can live with a lot of it if--"

"I love you, Jack."

The rest of what he'd been about to say came out in a wheez. "Haaah. Okay. Ah..."

Conversely, his obvious confusion steadied her. "I love you. That's why I have to tell you that I'm not what you think I am." She took one more sip of wine to ease the tightness in her throat before putting the glass aside. "You only know a part of me."

He fought the flutter of panic. "I know what I need to know." He stood to pace. "I know you're passionate. And compassionate. That you're loyal, and generous, and openhearted. That you like romantic music and shiny rocks. I know what your laugh sounds like, what your perfume smells like. I know I'm happier with you than I am anywhere else."

From Jack, that was nearly an admission of love. She had to tell him now, so that he would have the choice to accept or to back away. She closed her eyes on a sigh. "I told you I'm a coward."

"I'll believe anything you tell me but that."

"We'll see." She pressed her lips together. "Can you believe that there are some who are more sensitive than others to strong thoughts and feelings? Who have... a little something extra. Call it a well-developed talent, or a gift. People - people just like you - who live, and work, and have families with bills to pay and groceries to buy, but that many people - far too many people - would consider the ultimate in evil."

He pushed back his impatience and tried for a smile. "Are you getting all supernatural on me?"

She laughed nervously, and pressed a hand to her eyes. "You don't know the half of it. I need to explain and I don't know how. There's a word I could use, a label, a name, but it might do more harm than good." Rising, she began to wander the deck, Jack watching her warily.

Going with instinct, she went to the barbecue and raised the lid. There were some half burned coals and pieces of mesquite from their last cook-out. "Watch, Jack. This is an ancient skill. The first to be mastered and the last to be lost with age."

She felt the cool, clean power flow through her as she focused on the dry wood.

"I don't know what you're..." His words trailed off as she stood in front of the grill, her palms turned down. His blood turned to ice when he saw her eyes glow with power and fire flash from her palms to light the remnants.

"How the hell did you do that?" So. There was one thing that could tear them apart. The muscles in his stomach twanged like harp strings. How had he missed it? How could she be one of them and he totally miss seeing it?

"A child's trick. A certain kind of child."

Very slowly, he shook his head. His fingers balled into fists at his sides. He pushed aside his feelings for her and focused on survival. "Bull. That's just bull."

"Something else then. Something simple. Maybe you need a drink." The glass of wine she'd left on the table rose slowly in the air to float serenely over to him, where it hovered at eye level.

This was something new. None of the Goa'uld he'd seen had that much control. It was either blasting him into a wall, or sucking his mind out of his head. Nothing this - elegant. Nothing that required this delicacy or skill. How much more would she show him? "I don't think I'm thirsty."

"Well, then. Let me think." The glass settled into her hand and she took a fortifying swallow before sending it floating back to the table. She walked to the center of his deck and stood, closed her eyes, raised her hands.

In that moment, she was simply a woman. A beautiful woman standing on his deck with her arms lifted gracefully. Then she changed. He watched her change right in front of his eyes. Her beauty deepened. The setting sun, he told himself, that's all it was. She smiled, her full lips curving, her lashes shadowing her cheeks, her hair tumbling wildly down her back.

No, it was moving. Fluttering gently at first, as though a playful breeze had swept across the deck. Then it was flying, around her face, back from her face, in a long gorgeous stream. The pages of the Sunday paper began to tremble and shift across the table towards her. The rush of wind increased intensity. A sprinkling of dry leaves was sucked up with the papers, whirling around in a tornado centered on Anna.

But there was no wind to blow. The day was utterly calm. The trees on the opposite banks of the stream weren't even quivering. Yet he felt it. It chilled his skin, whipping up goosebumps. He could hear the roar of it as the wind and debris circled Anna madly.

She stood straight and still. A faint light shivered around her as her eyes began to glow again, golden and eerie and familiar. Her eyes met his through the gale and he thought he heard chanting. As the sun beamed down, soft flakes of snow began to fall. Out of thin air. They swirled around his head and skittered cold as spiders over his cheeks.

"That's enough." He barked in his cadet training voice. "You've made your point."

She lowered her arms and the miniature blizzard stopped as if it had never been. The wind silenced and died, papers and leaves wilted to the deck. When she looked at him, his expression wasn't what she'd thought to see. Surprise, yes. Suspicion, disbelief. Maybe a bit of panic. Not the cold anger that made his face a mask of stone, his eyes the calculating eyes of a predator.

She'd known he could be dangerous. The man she stared at now had stripped off all the easygoing charm and good-natured humor. This man was capable of quick and bloodless violence.

"What exactly was that?" His tone was flat and gelid. His temper strained.

"A very basic call to the elements." She hadn't expected him to be so ruthless, so angry. It wasn't a typical reaction. Nor had she expected how much it would hurt to have him look at her with that ice-edged, impersonal fury. She folded her hands in front of her and tried to figure out how to ride through a more intimidating storm.

He narrowed his eyes as he studied her. Her eyes were wistful, and if he didn't know better, he would have said she looked hurt, even vulnerable. If he didn't know better. And he did. After all, she'd just called up a blizzard in August. It had to be an act. She had to know she was the next thing to being invulnerable. "Is that what you call it?"

She tried a small, amused smile. "What would you call it?"

"I'd call it a Goa'uld showing off. At least do me the favor of dropping the act." He didn't pace, thought he wanted to. He had to keep his wits now, or he'd be dead. Or worse. "You've been leading me on the whole time. It has just been one long game to you, hasn't it? Right from the beginning." God, it hurt, he realized. It hurt to think of everything he'd felt for her, everything he'd wished for. "How long have you been hiding out on Earth? Which System Lord is holding your leash?"

Her heart quivered in her breast, but she kept her voice strong by sheer will. "I don't know what you mean. What's a System Lord? I showed you what I am, I didn't hide it, I can't deny it. I won't. It's no game, it's my life."

The sense of betrayal was huge. Damn it, he loved her. A Goa'uld had made him fall in love with her. A trick. A drug. That had to be it. Like with Hathor. No way he would be able to love a Goa'uld.

"I've been through this before, you know. With Hathor? You might recognize the name." He circled her, careful not to get too close. Hopefully, Good old Doc Frasier could find out what chemicals were floating around in him and neutralize them.

"She's an Egyptian goddess. But I don't see what this has to do with--"

"No, you wouldn't, would you." He slammed the lid shut, extinguishing the happily burning barbecue. He began to have a glimmer of a plan. "She's dead, you know. She wasn't immortal."

"No one's immortal." She was beginning to think he'd come mentally unhinged. As to why, she didn't have a clue. "Even people like me. We eat and sleep. We bleed when you cut us. We grow old and die. Just like you."

"You're not like me." He bit the words off, casually maneuvering back towards the bench she'd been sitting on.

"No. You're right. I'm different, and there's nothing I can do to change that. Nothing I would do. If you're finding this, me, too difficult to accept, then let me go." Grief rolled through her, sharp and hard and familiar, at the thought.

"Oh, no. No way you're leaving here." Almost there. Just another second or two.

"Jack," she tried one more time to reason with him. To reach him. To buy some time. "I'm sorry if I've misread what was happening between us. You know I'm not very good at social situations. Maybe we should both take some time and think things through."

"I think we've taken enough time." He reached adroitly under the bench seat for the pistol he'd kept there since Maybourne's unexpected visit several years ago. "I think I'm through thinking."

Anna stared in astonishment down the barrel of the small handgun pointed directly at her.

Astonishment quickly turned to annoyance. "Put that away. I'm no threat to you, Jack."

"Not yet. I'm waiting for the real you to rear it's ugly, snakey head." Keeping the gun steady, he dug in his pocket for his cell phone. He punched the number for the SGC. "Yeah. O'Neill, S G One Niner dash Delta 8, security code 6703. Yeah. I need a containment unit at my residence A.S.A.P. We've got a live one for the research boys at last."

Anna's annoyance chilled abruptly to fear. This was a much more typical response. One she should have anticipated given his profession. Well, she'd disappeared before, she could do so again. "This has gone far enough. I'm leaving now, Jack. Don't try and follow me. You won't find me again."

"Just stay where you are." When she continued walking toward the sliding door, he fired a warning shot into the siding above her head. "I told you, you're not leaving."

She looked at the hole in the siding calmly before turning to him. He took her arrogant, confident smile as final evidence of the Goa'uld inside her. "You can't stop me."

Jack felt the gun ripped out of his hand. Like the glass of wine, it hovered a foot from his nose, pointed at him. He spread his hands to his sides in a show of submission. "We'll see."

With a lightening quick move, he spun away from the gun towards Anna. He had just enough time to register her surprise before his fist connected with her jaw. Both she and the gun hit the deck, literally, at the same time. Jack pancaked himself alongside the unconscious woman to avoid the discharged bullet.

He levered himself to his hands and knees, biting back a groan of discomfort. Kneeling, he studied Anna, lying crumpled on the gray wooden boards. "Damn it. Damn it all to hell."

Because in spite of everything, he still loved her.

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