Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate: SG-1, 'cuz if I did, Jack woulda never left an' he an' Sam would be together! :cries:

Summary: Post "Tin Man". Jack O'Neill's duplicate does some thinking. SamJack-sorta.

Note: This is my first SG-1 fic. Please be nice. And review! If you will... XP

Tin Men Have Feelings Too

A robot. It was that definite. That's all he was, and that's all he ever had been. Despite all he knew, all he remembered, it wasn't true. Atleast not for him anyway. It was true for Jack O'Neill. The original Jack O'Neill, not some android copy. What should I call myself? How can I go about creating a new personality for myself. I'm not Colonel Jack O'Neill, and I can never be.

Slumping down in a dark corner of the underground complex that would now serve as his home, the Jack look-a-like sat with his head in his hands, isolating himself from his friends, other copies of people they could never be. They didn't appear to be as upset as he was. Give it time, he thought bitterly. They'll come to realize what they can never have.

While sitting there left to his own thoughts, the robot wracked his brain - whatever it was - to think of something to call himself other than 'Jack O'Neill's Duplicate'. One hand rose slowly to trace the open wound on his synthetic flesh, feeling the cool metal beneath. He frowned, then came to a realization as his thoughts took a different turn. "John," he muttered aloud, not minding the way it sounded. That's what Jack is a nickname for... He's Jack, so I guess I can be John.

"Colonel?" The voice of a certain blonde-haired Airforce Major copy had him raising his head in attention.

Frowning slightly, John looked to her with slightly narrowed eyes. "You don't have to call me that you know. We're not really military." He felt bad for the sudden lost look that crossed her face. "Call me John,"

She smiled tightly, taking another step toward him. For a moment, she seemed in deep thought, then smiled a little brighter and said, "Samantha," Holding out her hand, she reached down to help him up.

John sighed softly with a faint grin as he got to his feet. Knowing everything that Jack O'Neill knew, he was remembering all sorts of feelings he had for Sam Carter, though the original O'Neill could never act on those feelings because of military regulations. This was different though. He was no longer living as Jack O'Neill, he knew what he was, who he could be, and they weren't military. "So, Samantha," he started in a friendlier tone, "What do you say we..." John took a brief look around and shrugged, "Go for a walk?"

She couldn't help but grin at the sight of his renewed smile. Squinting slightly, Samantha reached out a hand to touch the side of his cheek that exposed Jack - er - John's inner mechanics. "Maybe we should have Harlan fix you up first."

He nodded with a slight snort and chuckle. "Heh, yeh, let's do that."

Arm in arm, Samantha and John strode out of the dark, brooding corner of the complex in search of their new 'friend'. If he could even be called that. John thought he may never forgive Harlan for what he did, first feeling as though they would all have been better off never getting created in the first place. However, he now realized Harlan was only trying to survive, as he told the man in understanding. Moments ago he'd been incredibly bitter, and still partly was... But John knew he'd get over it. He had to.

- The End -