Just finished watching "Show And Tell" on DVD and wanted to explore what Jack might have gone through after watching Reetou Charlie leave with Jacob. Sam and Jack friendship. Series 2.

Jack O'Neill watched quietly as the young Reetou boy stepped into the wormhole, hand clutching firmly to that of Jacob's. Bye, kid, he mused. Funny how quickly the lad had wormed his way into Jack's heart — he could've sworn that battered old organ had nothing left in it.

"Sir? You okay?" his 2IC, Samantha Carter, asked, touching his shoulder briefly.

"Fine, Captain," Jack said lightly, appreciating the concern, but not wanting to talk. He didn't do the talking thing. "He's better off there — with the Tok'ra."

"Of course, sir," Carter replied quietly.

Sam Carter pulled her warm coat around her more tightly as she headed topside, nodding to the two SFs guarding the entrance. "Is Colonel O'Neill up here?" she asked one of them.

"Yes, ma'am," the young woman replied. "He came out about an hour ago."

"Thank you," Sam replied. She clutched tighter onto the Colonel's jacket as she made her way over to where she could just see her CO's silvering head. Clad only in BDU pants and black tee shirt, he had to be half frozen by now. "Sir; hi," she said.

He didn't look up from his gaze into the dark night. "Hey, Carter," he replied.

"Thought you might be cold," she said, passing him the jacket.

"Thanks," he replied, dragging the butter-soft leather on over his tee shirt.

She hovered uneasily for a second, unsure how to broach her concern — unsure whether she even should.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Captain; park your butt and spill it!" the Colonel invited roughly.

She gave a quick grin at that and hastened to obey the order. "Sir; I know you're my CO but … I was hoping we were friends too," she began.

"We are, Carter."

"Then, as your friend; how are you doing?"

He looked at her, his deep brown eyes flickering over her face. "As a friend; not so great. But I'll be fine. It's just … I couldn't help liking the little guy, ya know."

Sam nodded her head. "You're great with kids, sir; we all know that. I've seen you with Cassie. This … had to be harder though. Because of Charlie."

The Colonel's expressive eyes closed briefly, his unfairly long lashes sweeping downward. "Yeah," he admitted softly. "You know; he wanted to stay with me. He … wanted to be mine."

Wow. That had to have been tough for the man. Despite the rough façade he put up, he was extremely sensitive to any references to his dead son. "And … if he'd been able to stay here? Would you have taken him, sir?" she asked. Then could have bitten out her tongue. Even for a friend, that was venturing into very dangerous territory.

Yet he didn't bite her head off. He merely shrugged his good shoulder. "I've got enough regrets in my life, Carter; I can't add another 'what if' to them," he said.

"Right," she replied, knowing it was time to back off. Her CO did not do vulnerability well.

His hand landed briefly on her shoulder. "Thanks, though," he said softly.

"You're welcome, sir," she replied. "Gonna stay out here a bit longer?"

"Yeah," he said. "You know me; I like looking at the stars. See how many planets we've been to."

"Well, actually; only a fraction of them can be spotted from Earth's night sky," Sam said.

"A-ah! Damn scientists. Don't suck the romance out of this!" he said, giving her a typical teasing grin.

"Romance, sir? You?" she teased right back.

"Oh, back in the old days, Captain. When the dinosaurs roamed the Earth, I could be quite the romantic."

"Between clubbing your daily meal and dragging your mate around by her hair, sir?" Sam returned, glad that his morose mood seemed to have left for now.

"Oh yeah." He gave her a grin, his teeth gleaming and a dimple appearing. "But I was very picky; I'd only drag them to my cave if they wore sweet little tank tops."

She could feel her skin burst into flame at that reference. Dammit; that had been over a year ago! He'd not talked about that whole Broca thing since they'd cured the people at the Land of the Light and she was hoping he might have forgotten it.

No such luck. She'd forgotten that the man's happy-go-lucky attitude hid a steel trap of a mind.

"Sorry, Carter," he said, seeming to see her blush even in the dark. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's all right, sir," she replied. Then she gave him a wide grin. "After all, it wasn't so long afterward that you ate that cake."

"Right," he grumbled. "So … we never talk about tank tops or marriage cake again. Deal?"

He put out his hand and she allowed it to envelop hers. She was not a small frail woman by any means — hell, she was five nine and a Captain in the Air Force for God's sake — but his long elegant hand made hers seem very fragile in comparison. "Deal, sir," she said.

"Cool." He squeezed her hand gently. "And … thanks, Carter."

"For what, sir?" She turned slightly and tugged the jacket more securely over his strapped up shoulder.

"You know."

"Any time, sir." She found herself mesmerized by his intense brown gaze and something inside her quickened in response. She scrambled up quickly, wanting to break the unusual connection. "Well … I'd better go, sir," she said. "Naqadah experiments don't run themselves."

He shook his head. "Carter; it's 2300 hours and we've got a briefing at 0600 tomorrow," he said. "Go to bed, for God's sake."

"Yes, sir," she replied. "Good night."

He smiled briefly. "Night, Carter."