General O'Neill was up to his ass in paper work. Flying a desk was just about as horrible as he thought it would be, perhaps worse considering the idiots he had to put up with. Silently he asked Hammond and so many other superiors his forgiveness. When he had been given this promotion and this assignment he outwardly appeared confident but inside he was nervous, tentative. He felt like a fraud. There were stars on his shoulders – he had worked his ass off for the birds, but here was a guy who had his mind vacuumed out twice and they gave him stars. It makes you kind of wonder about the other guys walking around with stars on their epaulettes. And, of course, there was the mountains, the sea, the endless stream of paper. All this crap and Carter still in his chain of command. It was enjoyable to be around her and the SGC. He enjoyed the people, well most of the people and continued excitement of their adventures but there were times, sitting in his office, in his leathers chair, at his big desk, that it just made him feel old and useless. Maybe it was time for him to retire to start a new phase of his life and let the past go.
Letting go made him think of just why a general would be holding down the fort on a Sunday afternoon. Carter had attained the rank of Lt. Col. shortly after he was thawed but the celebration was held off until after the dust from the latest turmoil with Anubis had settled. Today was the day, there was a picnic for most of the base at one of the local state parks to celebrate all the promotions, medals, meritorious citations and just the fact they were all still alive. At the last minute O'Neill sent Col. Dixon, this day's assigned duty officer, to join the festivities in his place. He was feeling uncomfortable and decidedly awkward at the thought of seeing Carter together with Pete. He could not deny her a life but could not bear the thought of having his face rubbed in it.
If O'Neill had gone to the picnic he would have known that Carter was alone. Pete was a sometimes thing. In those dark nights when she waited and wondered and worked for O'Neill's return she made a comparison. Not conscientiously, of course, or it would have smacked her between the eyes. It was O'Neill, always had been and probably always would be. But she was back to the age old problem – what you want you can't have. And was still lonely, still cold and lonely at night.
She remembered Ayiana when O'Neill was sealed in the ice. Would that be his fate too,
to wake up millions of years from now to a world that he didn't know? Where all that he
held dear, all that he had risked his life for, was in such the remote past that no one even
remembered his civilization? Would he be revived just to save the lives of people he
didn't know then succumb himself, alone and muttering in a language so long dead that
no one understood? She had shed tears for him and for herself. When Teal'c had helped
him into that chamber and it covered over O'Neill, she felt something deep within her
break. She was short tempered, curt with superiors, friends and co-workers, and
dismissive of Pete. All she could focus on was O'Neill and restoring him to a normal
life, her life. She finally realized who and what she wanted out of life and he was again
out of her reach. When he was finally thawed, as it were, she had the notion, that like
Ayiana, he was here to bring life. He had saved life on their planet, now he was here to
restore her to life from which she had virtually withdrawn and possibly to create new life
with her. She meant to give him the opportunity.
Ah but now he was Brigadier General O'Neill and she had been frightened again and
slipped into easy established patterns. She thought this thing with Pete had run its course,
but he kept pressing her and she didn't know how to stop the steamroller. She had had
hopes Jack would step in and save her this fate but he demurred. She had to face reality
and her reality was Jack O'Neill.