Another big 'thank you' to everyone who has sent a review, although I do have to say that it's a pity the good non Sam/Jack fics that gets posted to this site by so many great authors don't attract as much attention. Remember – not every SG story has to be romantic to be worth reading (or reviewing). - Flatkatsi

Wives and Other Follies - Part Five

Jack fought to keep his face impassive as he watched Vesland cross the room. He knew that even though Sam had her back to them she was aware of his every movement. He had seen her watching him ever since he had arrived – nothing obvious, just little glances and small smiles exchanged before turning her attention back to the people surrounding her.

He identified several of the Air Force officers around her as members of his own department, and assumed the civilians were her work colleagues. There were a few women scattered through the group, some clearly the wives or partners of the men they were with, others probably fellow scientists of Sam's. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves if the good natured laughter was anything to go by.

It wasn't until Vidrine had let Jack in on Sam's secret identity remark that he realised that very few people in Washington were aware of their relationship. They had chosen to keep their marriage as low key as possible, especially with Sam still technically posted to the SGC, even if only in an advisory capacity. Her frequent trips back to the Mountain, combined with the amount of work Jack had to cope with to get up to scratch in his new position, had meant they had little time for socialising here in Washington.

Most people wouldn't have recognised the wicked smile that ghosted across Sam's face, but Jack had had more than enough experience over the years to know the way her devious mind was working. He'd leave her to her fun for a little longer.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

"There he is." Beatrice Ritson grabbed her friend's arm, heedless of the slight tear she made in the delicate fabric of the other's dress.

Angela Greenburgh opened her mouth to complain at the other woman's actions but shut it almost immediately. Beatrice's husband had given them the nod when General O'Neill arrived at the function, but they had lost track of him when he disappeared into the mass of bodies at the bar. Now she was startled to find him almost at their elbows.

"General." Beatrice pulled her along, her voice shrill as she tried to attract O'Neill's attention. "General O'Neill."

He stopped and turned to them enquiringly. Angela took a moment to appreciate his appearance, and decided that she really needed to get Ross on that diet.

"I'm Beatrice Ritson, General Oliver Ritson's wife. I'm so pleased to meet you at last, General, Oliver told me all about your time together in the Gulf."

"He has?" O'Neill raised an eyebrow and it looked like he was about to say something more, before his frown cleared and he smiled. "Mrs Ritson."

"This is my friend, Angela Greenburgh." Angela smiled pleasantly. There was a slight pause, then Beatrice added "General Ross Greenburgh's wife."

This time General O'Neill looked completely blank and Angela knew he had no idea who her husband was. She filled the gap in the conversation smoothly.

"You and your wife must come to the next dinner party we are planning." She lowered her voice. "We tend to restrict the guest list to only the most senior of officers. I understand you've recently married – perhaps Mrs O'Neill might like to join our Bridge Club. We met every Wednesday."

"Very kind, Mrs Greenburgh, but I doubt she'd have time, although I certainly will pass on the invitation. Sam's an excellent bridge player."

"Really?" Beatrice was annoyed, although she was concealing it well, and Angela knew why. Her friend was the top bridge player in their group and was plainly feeling threatened. "I didn't know secretaries played a lot of bridge."

Angela cringed. It was one thing to speculate in private about the new Mrs O'Neill, but it was quite another to act like their speculations were fact, especially in front of her husband.

O'Neill's smile disappeared completely, and Angela's eyes were drawn to his as they glared down at her friend. She backed away slightly, trying to disassociate herself from Beatrice as she recognised what she was seeing. General O'Neill had changed in the fraction of a second from a good natured man to the sort of soldier she had tried to avoid over the years.

"Secretary? Why would you think my wife was a secretary?" He waited as if expecting an answer, but continued when none came. "She's a colonel in the United States Air Force, currently seconded to the Institute." He nodded towards the blonde that had been attracting so much attention all evening. "That's my wife over there. Now if you'll excuse me, I have important people to talk to."

He turned and walked away before they had a chance to reply.

It wasn't until O'Neill was out of earshot that Beatrice spoke.

"Well, really!" Beatrice's indignant exclamation summed up Angela's feeling to a tee. "I didn't expect that."

"No," Angela agreed "Neither did I. I thought General O'Neill's wife was meant to be much younger than him. She looks to be in her late thirties at least."

"Yes, exactly. And the hair. . . "

"Bottle blonde?"

"Definitely."

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Jack stalked over to the table where he'd spotted Paul Davis, only to find the major had vanished. Probably looking for a drink, Jack mused, wishing he had a refill for his now empty Guinness.

He found his eyes drawn to Sam as his ears caught her familiar laugh. At least she was enjoying herself. The group she was with looked a lot more lively that the stuffed shirts over on this side of the room. He didn't even want to think about the two harridans he had just left struck speechless. Maybe he should take Vesland's offer and go join Sam – it wasn't like he needed an excuse.

"Quite a looker, isn't she?"

Jack spun, finding a fellow general at his shoulder, probably that moronic woman's husband, Greenspoon or something.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, come on now – I saw you looking at her. I thought I'd go introduce myself and see if anything eventuates and I don't want to have to fight off the competition."

Oh for crying out loud! What was it with this party? Jack decided that if this was what normally went on at one of these Washington shindigs, he and Sam would be accepting no further invitations. This guy was actually warning him off his own wife.

He raised himself up to his full height, towering over the self important little two star general in front of him. Quietly, but with a depth of meaning that couldn't be mistaken, he fiercely ground out his words

"That 'looker' is my wife"

Enough was enough.

Once again he didn't bother waiting for an answer. He headed for Sam.

xoxoxoxoxoxo