Thanks for all those lovely reviews. You are all wonderful, wonderful people, don't ever leave. Sorry this took a while to get out, I was having a little problem, its called life. Pesky thing. BookWorm37: Sophie says not to talk to her anymore until she's called the lawyers.

All of you seem so sympathetic of Jack but what about Pete? Someone's in his body! Or...have all of you lost the capacity to feel anything for Pete:D I must admit I've always felt sorry for Pete on the show but I do like to have someone to beat up in my stories. -evil cackle-



Pete let his mask fall as he heard Sam leave the house an hour later and scrunched his eyebrows and let the lines in his forehead deepen and fold. He was angry and hurt. He slammed down a plate and a glass and shoved the toaster onto the side as he grabbed the bread. He was likely to break something if he carried on like this for much longer and frankly Jack didn't care. If he wanted to break something, let him. He'd only have to answer to Sam when she got back and she wouldn't be happy.

Jack had given up trying to get out by now. It was too much work. Every time he got close Pete got worried and confused and just shoved the Colonel back into the recesses of his mind where Jack would rest and try again. However, Jack had stopped attempting a breakout when Sam had left, if he gained control it would only be for a split second and that wouldn't be much use if he wanted to tell anyone who could help him. Instead Jack had resigned himself to amusing himself with Pete's annoyance.

The cop was storming around the kitchen in a fit of rage, whacking things down on the surface as he prepared himself breakfast. Forget about breaking something, this guy was going to hurt himself and that meant he'd hurt Jack too. The older man started thinking about soothing things in the hopes of some of it transferring to Pete. Hockey…Simpsons…dismantling a P-90…reconstructing a P-90. Calm.

"Go to your happy place, Pete," Jack said, or at least tried to say seeing as he didn't have control of the mouth.

Pete stopped suddenly and spun around. Eyes wide and wary, Pete went into a defensive stance.

"Hello?" he called. He turned quickly and grabbed a knife from the holder, jumping around as if to surprise some unknown assassin then he yelled suddenly hoping to frighten someone out of a hiding place. He was a jumpy little thing, wasn't he?

Even better than scaring the pants off of Pete was the discovery that he could make himself heard, even if the only person that could hear him was the same person who was currently jumping around corners with a bread knife, making noises that sounded like they came straight out of a bad martial arts movie.

"I must warn you, I'm a cop- I know every move in the book." Pete called as he pounced into the living room and ducked behind the couch. "Come out and I won't press charges!"

Jack wondered how and when he was going to break it to short-stuff that his attacker was actually a guy who happened to share the same body and that hurting Jack would probably hurt himself as well.

Jack wanted to break it to him…later; right now he was having too much fun watching Pete wind himself up.

Pete scanned the area warily then rolled across the floor. Jack assumed he was trying to reach the other couch but he didn't have enough momentum and the guy got stuck halfway there, rocking back and forth like a turtle knocked on its back.

Eventually, Pete realised that it wasn't worth the bother and he got up and just walked to the other piece of furniture.

Jack mentally rolled his eyes at the spectacle, how this guy ever got beyond the first date with Carter, he'd never know.

"Calm down before you work yourself into a fit," Jack said tiredly.

"Where are you?" Pete said, waving the knife around while checking behind curtains and doors.

"Well…" That was an interesting question, where exactly was he? In the brain was the best guess but it felt more like he was inhabiting the whole body. "I'm…here."

Pete sighed and his frustration reached a new height until even Jack felt a bit agitated as well. "Who are you?" Pete asked.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill US Air Force and I am currently sharing your body." Bluntness and honesty had always worked in the past; Jack didn't see why he should break the habit.

Pete relaxed a bit and put the knife down; Jack couldn't tell if it was from the shock or the fact that he couldn't hurt him if he was in the same body. Pete stood still for a few minutes, staring at nothing in particular then his eyes began to scan around the room. Jack recognised Sam's living room from many team nights and it brought forth a lot of memories. The first team night after they first saved the world was held here. They had gotten back and Sam had seemed so much lighter, friendlier, like she didn't have to work so hard at proving herself anymore. It was the first time any of them had been to her house. It had changed much. There wasn't as much furniture back then and the whole house had seemed much bigger and emptier. Sam had just moved in and the large house was intimidating and lonely, the presence of her friends had greatly increased the warmth of the place.

Pete's gaze rested on a photo on the mantelpiece from not that long ago. It was a picture of a team night shortly after Daniel had descended and had not fully gained all of his memory. Jack had his arm around Daniel's shoulders and the archaeologist looked thoroughly uncomfortable as Sam planted a kiss on his cheek.

"That's me," Jack said as Pete focused on his face.

"Okay! This isn't funny anymore!" Pete yelled, "Come out and I won't hurt you!"

"Seriously, if I could come out, I would," Jack said.

"Stop messing with me!" Pete shouted, "I'm armed!" He picked up the knife again and calmly started tiptoeing around the room. The cop started checking in various hiding places, under couches, behind the TV, in the closet.

"I'm not in there."

Pete sighed in frustration and began looking out the windows and in the flowerbeds.

"I'm definitely not outside."

"Well, where are you then!" Pete screamed.

"I'm in here!" Jack yelled back, "Here I am!"

"No, you're not!"

"Yes, I am!"

"Not!"

"Am!"

"Not!"

"Am!"

"Not!"

"I am!" Jack said finally, "And you are just going to have to deal with it!"

"No, no," Pete started chuckling and waving his hand around at midair. "I'm just having a breakdown- I've been working too hard and I need a holiday. That's all."

"Let me prove it to you," Jack offered. "I seem to be able to tell what you're feeling so, right now, you are feeling a little frustrated-"

"Of course I'm feeling frustrated, you moron!" Pete screeched.

"Okay, Shanahan, you are going to have to calm down or we are not going to be able to sort this thing out!" Jack yelled. "I don't like this situation any more than you do. I'm starting to miss my own body."

"What's wrong with my body?" Pete asked with a hurt tone.

"Oh fer cryin' out loud," Jack muttered.