Title: Lean on Me
Author: Ayiana

Pairing: S/J (implied established relationship)
Category: Vignette, Angst/Romance

Season: 10ish
Spoilers: None
Archive: Please ask
Feedback: Serious concrit especially welcome.

Disclaimer: The Stargate franchise belongs to a group of people that, sadly, doesn't include me. I don't own either the characters or the show, nor am I making any profit off of this. Any original portions of this story, however, do belong to me. Please don't take without asking.

Summary: Sam's feeling particularly frustrated about a stubborn project until Jack offers her a shoulder to lean on.

----

Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on

Bill Withers

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"What the hell happened here?" Jack pinned the pair of disgruntled looking techs with a steely gaze. The place looked like it'd been hit by a Goa'uld shock grenade. Equipment and folders littered the floor. The workbench, however, was disturbingly barren.

"And where's Carter?"

The techs had snapped to attention at his entrance, and now Jack saw them exchange an uneasy glance before one of them swallowed hard and answered him. "She stepped out, Sir."

"Why?"

Another shared look. Jack swallowed an impatient snort. Contrary to popular opinion, he wasn't here to chew them a new one. He just wanted to know where she was. And he wanted to know now.

"Well?"

The second tech finally answered, tag teaming him. The cowards. "She, um, she said she needed some air."

Jack turned and walked out, leaving the techs to continue cleaning up the mess. He had a feeling he knew where she was, and that same feeling was telling him that approaching her right now might be suicide. He gave a mental shrug. He'd walked into death traps before and lived to tell about it. One more time more or less wouldn't make that much difference in the grand scheme of things.

True to form, she'd headed uphill. She'd mentioned once before that she liked it best at the top of the world - something about freedom and fresh air and... He blew out a breath. All he knew was that it always killed his knees to hike up here, and he only did it when he was seriously motivated. Even Carter's presence at the top wasn't ordinarily a big enough draw, but something about the disarray in the lab made him think this was important.

He finally found her exactly where he'd thought he would. She sat, knees pulled up and chin tucked, at the very edge of a precipice. He hated when she did that. It always sent his protective side into overdrive so that he had to make a conscious effort not to tell her to back up a bit. She didn't turn when he stopped behind her, but he suspected she knew he was there.

Deciding he deserved a reward for surviving the climb, he paused for a moment to admire the view. He knew that in the mood she was in, she'd quite likely throw him off the cliff if she caught him ogling her, but the sun was setting, and as he watched the play of light against her skin, he decided the risk was more than worth it.

She let him look - another sure sign that she wasn't herself, and when he finally lowered himself to sit beside her, she still didn't look over.

"So," he said, casting about for something to say, "tough day at the office?"

She grunted, not exactly encouraging him, but not telling him to get lost, either.

He tried again. "Saw the lab..."

She threw him a sideways glance, blew a strand hair out of her eyes, and went back to staring out over the valley below.

Two attempts at conversation. Two dead ends. So not a good sign.

"So," he said, starting to feel a little desperate. "I gather things aren't exactly going according to plan?"

"What gave you that idea?" Oh. Sarcasm. Yep. She was pissed.

"Well..." he lifted an eyebrow, "I think the trashed lab might've been my first clue."

She rolled to her feet and paced away from him, then spun around, arms folded across her chest. "Do you know what he said to McKay on the comm?"

Jack decided not to ask which 'he' she might be referring to. Nor did he want to question what McKay had to do with any of this. Seemed a little irrelevant at the moment anyway. "Um. No, actually, I don't."

"'If anybody can do it, Colonel Carter can,' he said.'Did you ever hear about the time she blew up a sun?'" Sam snorted, glaring at Jack like this was all his fault. "Do you have any idea how often I've wished I hadn't done that?"

"You gotta admit it was pretty cool," Jack said, trying for a grin. It slid off his face when she took a threatening step in his direction, and he lifted a hand in self-defense instead. "People have been saying that kind of crap to you for years. It never bothered you this much before."

She stared at him for a long moment before spinning away on her heel. "Yeah. Well. It bothers me now."

He waited for her to turn back to him, but she didn't, so he finally climbed to his feet and walked to where she stood. He waited for another long moment before putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her to face him.

"What's going on, Carter?"

She glared at him, and he could've sworn he saw tears well up in her eyes, but she blinked furiously and focused on a spot somewhere beyond his shoulder. "I don't think I can do it this time, Jack."

He didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. She'd been poking at that thing down in the lab for days. He doubted she'd slept more than three hours in a row in at least a week.

He shrugged lightly. "No problem. There's always plan B."

"You have a plan B?"

"Um. No."

She pulled away from him. "Yeah. See, that's what I thought. So if I don't figure that thing out, we lose. It's all on me."

His heart ached for her. Much as he wanted to deny it, she was right. He couldn't fix this for her, couldn't make it go away or bluster his way through it like he'd done so often in the past. The best he could do was to remind her that she wasn't alone.

He slipped a finger beneath her chin, turning her eyes back to his. "See. Now that's where you're wrong. It isn't 'all on you'. It's on Daniel, who has to figure out what the hell all those weird pictures are supposed to mean. It's on Teal'c and Mitchell and I, who have to figure out how to get that thing on one of those ships without getting ourselves killed. It's on Landry to run interference with the White House and the Pentagon while we're otherwise occupied-"

"Speaking of Landry... Aren't you supposed to be in Washington?"

He grinned a little self-consciously. "Yeah. Well. Heard a rumor you might be having issues."

"Daniel." Sam grimaced, angry again. "I am so going to kick his ass."

Jack waved her off. "He was right."

"Maybe, but that doesn't give him the right to call in the cavalry."

"Oh I don't know... Seems to me, if there's a general consensus that you're about to commit mayhem, it might be a good idea to look around for reinforcements."

She snorted. "What, Daniel didn't think he could handle it himself?"

"Apparently he thought my chances of survival were somewhat better than his."

"He's such a coward." But she almost smiled as she said it.

"Yes. Well. Self-preservation can do that to a man."

She snorted. "So you think you're man enough to handle me?" A predatory gleam came into her eyes as she advanced on him.

Okay, so maybe he'd bitten off more than he could chew here. "You know," he said, distracted by the way the sun silhouetted her body. "Daniel was really concerned about that mayhem thing."

"You don't say..."

He nodded and took a step toward her.

"And how did he intend for you to stop me?"

Jack thought that over and realized that, while Daniel had admittedly (and rightfully) been concerned, he hadn't been too specific on the details. "He didn't say exactly."

Sam glanced around. "Think anybody's going to come looking for us?"

He grinned. "I doubt it. The folks I ran into on my way up here were all scurrying in the opposite direction."

She nodded, satisfied. "Good."

"Why? Got something on your mind?" He knew she did. He also knew that she knew that he knew that she did. Or... something. Whatever. All that really mattered was that she was going to be okay. And, well, the look in her eyes definitely held promise. He took another step toward her so that now only a few scant inches separated them. "So?"

She laid one hand on his chest, fingers splayed. With the other, she traced a path across his shoulder and around his neck, finally settling at the back of his head, where she toyed with the short silver hairs.

"I have a few ideas, but they're going to have to wait," she finally said with a regretful sigh. "I need to get back down there." But she didn't pull away from him.

A tremor rippled through him at her touch. It had always been, and probably would always be, this way. He never failed to be moved by her. He dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers. "You okay?" he asked softly, still concerned. So much depended on her right now, and he knew how much she took it to heart. Sometimes he worried that it was too much.

She nodded against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his warmth. Frustration warred with worry in his mind as he held her tightly against him. He'd give anything to be able to ease her path, but as it was, all he could was hold on and pray. He knew he couldn't do this for her - couldn't walk into that lab and solve the problems of the universe with a few well placed pokes and prods. All he could do was to let her know that she was loved and that, no matter what happened, she would always be loved. Hopefully, it would be enough - for both of them.

He tucked a kiss just behind her ear, pleased when she shivered slightly in his arms. "We'll get through this," he said. "We always do."

He felt rather than heard her sigh. "I hope so," she murmured.

"Hey," he pulled back, forcing her to look at him. "We're SG-1, remember? We're invincible."

She smiled weakly. "Only until we aren't," she said.

"None of that," he wagged an admonishing finger at her. "If plan A doesn't work, we'll go with plan B, and if that flops..."

"Plan C, I know." The smile was stronger now, though still a little underdone around the edges. "Don't you ever give up?"

"Nope." And he didn't. It was one of the things that made him who he was. He might not have Daniel's or Carter's brains, and Teal'c far outgunned him in the brawn department, but in pure stubbornness, Jack O'Neill had the rest of them beat - and they knew it. Over the years, it had been that stubborn refusal to give up that had saved their butts time and again.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Almost."

He raised an eyebrow, and in answer she bracketed his face with her hands and kissed him. It was a kiss of affirmation, and affection, and gratitude, and he returned it, telling her by touch what he could never seem to effectively put into words.

"Now I'm ready," she said, sometime later.

"You sure?" he asked, grinning hopefully. "'Cause there's more where that came from."

She laughed. "You're hopeless."

"I try," he said proudly. Then he reached for her hand, and they started down the trail.

The short interlude hadn't fixed anything. She was going back to the lab where she'd spend most of the night trying, again, to figure out the alien device that had been thwarting her for so long. And he'd track down Mitchell and Teal'c so the three of them could get back to planning the mission. Life would resume its normal path, or at least, normal as it applied to SG-1.

So nothing had really changed and yet, in the space of a few shared moments, the looming battle had somehow lost some of its ability to frighten them. They might survive and they might not, but whatever happened, they'd handle it. Together.

The End