Jack sat in an armchair, a beer in one hand and the remote in another as he idly flicked through channels. But nothing could take his mind of Sam. If he got his hands on Daniel, he'd kick his ass; he knew he was the one behind Dr Cassidy ordering him to go home.

Eventually he gave up and switched the TV off. He played absent-mindedly with the label on his bottle. Sighing in frustration, he swung himself onto his feet, walked out onto the decking and looked down his garden.

He thought about all the times he could have, he should have, told her. All those times they had been so close to death, all those times he'd tried to protect her, the times he'd almost lost her, the times he wouldn't leave without her. So many times it was unspoken, left hanging in the air.

He remembered the one time their lips had met. True she had been infected by some unknown disease, but all the same… it was like electricity. He hadn't wanted to stop, but he had known that it was wrong. Perhaps that was where it all began.

No… he had fallen for her the first time she had stepped in front of him, the first time she'd quoted some mumbo-jumbo wormhole crap, the first time he saw her fire a gun. She was strong, and funny, and smarter than he could ever be,and could take care of herself; everything he always wanted.But sometimes he didn't see her as a soldier or a colleague but as a woman. When Martouf… died, the pain in her eyes… it was almost more than he could bear. A pain he never wanted her to feel again.

Maybe that's one of the reasons he never acted on his instincts; the fear of hurting her. But without realising he was hurting her… and himself. They had kept these emotions, these feelings bottled up for so long. Damn he sounded like a woman. He took a swig of beer just to ensure he was still male.

A knock on the front door caught his attention. He walked inside, setting his bottle on the coffee table as he headed towards the door. The knocking persisted. 'I'm coming!' Jack called out, 'Daniel, if that's you, I swear to God-' His words were cut off as he looked at the man outside.

'Pete.'

'Jack.'

Jack looked at him, both men shifting uncomfortably. 'Do you…' he asked.

'No… I'm not staying.'

'What can I do for you then?'

'You can take these.' Pete pointed at the cardboard boxes on the steps.

'What…?'

'They're some of Sam's things.' Pete told him, 'Clothes, essentials… that sort of thing. Stuff she'll need when she gets back. The rest of her stuff is in a storage unit near the base.' He handed him a set of keys.

'Right…' Jack looked down at the keys in his hands, 'look Pete-'

'I always knew,' Pete cut him off, 'I guess it was just a matter of time. She sent me a letter; Daniel gave it to me.'

'Pete, for what it's worth, I'm sorry.'

'Yeah…' Pete turned to leave and looked back at him, 'Just do me one favour.'

'Yeah.'

'Make her happy.'

'I'll try.'

Jack watched Pete drive away and began to lift the boxes into the house, putting them in his spare room.