Set after Grace/Chimera, S7.

A kiss could mean a lot of things.

An innocent gesture of affection, a peck on the cheek.

A parent's kiss on the forehead of a child, soothing and reassuring.

A first kiss, romantic in nature, tentative and unsure but hopeful all the same.

An angry kiss, when words spoken in anger and frustration needed to be silenced.

A hungry kiss, lovers in the heady throes of passion and desire.

A kiss of longing, of tenderness, of sweet affirmation.

There were a lot of kisses, a lot of meanings behind them, and that was just on Earth.

The mission was to be one of Jack and Sam's last as Colonel and Major respectively, though they didn't know that at the time. It was first contact meeting with a people of a planet they would later learn was Hanandra, people who had come out of their homes to greet the MALP that had come through the Stargate in the heart of their village. These people didn't fear the Goa'uld or indeed any travellers through the stone ring. All were welcome on Hanandra, the address of which had been gained from Colonel O'Neill's head when he'd downloaded the knowledge of the Ancients.

In fact, it was cause for celebration. They insisted on welcoming the newcomers, and had no problem with sharing their knowledge and their food with SG-1. Daniel was in his element, having been granted full access to the town's archive, with hundreds and thousands of records dating back to the first settlers who had been brought from Earth through the Stargate by an alien race determined to protect them. Asgard or Ancient, Daniel was sure and determined to find out.

Teal'c was wary, but at the same time accepting of the hospitality of their hosts. It was rare to receive such a warm welcome and, while he hadn't yet determined that there wasn't an underlying reason for it, he was pleased that he and his companions wouldn't need to fight for their lives on this occasion.

Sam was a little on the bored side; though it was nice to be welcome, the race wasn't as technologically advanced as Earth so there wasn't much she could sink her teeth into or at least distract herself with. And a distraction was something she felt she needed.

Jack, meanwhile, was more than a little on the bored side. He'd tried bugging Daniel, but he'd been too engrossed in his research to rise to the bait. Teal'c had sat silently beside him, listening to him ramble on but hadn't responded, which was absolutely no fun for the frustrated Colonel. That left Sam, who was taking soil samples for something to do, but he was strangely reluctant to approach his Second.

Something had changed between them. No, something had shifted. He thought he'd pinpointed it to her hooking up with the cop from Denver but when he thought about it more–and he thought about it a lot more than he would ever admit–the more sure he was that whatever it was had taken place after her mission aboard the Prometheus. She'd been different with him after that, a little more guarded.

And he didn't like it.

He didn't like it one bit.

But, as with most things between the two of them, they opted not to talk about it. Unlike usual, though, they seemed to have lost their ability to talk about such things without words, and he felt that loss keenly. Oh, in the field, they could still read one another's silent signals but on a personal level, the knowledge that they shared something deeper was gone.

And what he wouldn't give to get that back.

Instead of joining her, he settled for watching her covertly. If anyone said anything, he'd defend his actions by explaining he was just watching her six. (And what a six it was...) But it was because he was watching her, he noticed her give up on collecting her samples. He watched her wander to the outskirts of the town and followed at a discreet distance, holding back as she settled herself on the bank of the town's river.

His Carter sense was tingling; there was something wrong with her, but he didn't know what, nor did he feel like he had a right to intrude. As her Commanding Officer, sure. He had the right to know what was going on with her if he thought it might jeopardise the well-being of the team, but as her friend... Well, he wasn't sure that would be appropriate any more.

As he debated what to do –he could always go and drag Daniel from his precious books–he saw something that broke his heart and his resolve. Narrowing his eyes as if doubting what he'd seen, he watched her lift her hand to her cheek again and wipe away another tear.

Damn it.

Carter tears were his weakness. Or one of them. Anything Carter-being-upset-or-in-trouble was a weakness of his, and he knew it. Swearing under his breath, he closed the short distance between them and sat down beside her. Giving her a moment, he said nothing, letting her regain her composure.

They sat listening to the river and the sounds of village life, the tension building to palpable levels between them. The longer they went without speaking, the harder it was to break the silence.

"Sir -"

"Carter -"

An awkward pause, more silence.

"You okay, Carter?" Jack tried again after a long moment.

"Fine, Sir," her response was automatic.

"Yeah. Sure." He held out for another minute. "There's something going on. With you, us. I can't fix it if I don't know what I've done, Carter."

"What you've done?" She was genuinely startled, and turned to face him. "You've not done anything wrong, Sir."

"Really? 'Cause that's not the impression I'm getting." He fidgeted with the cover on his watch. "Something happened," he said, deciding there was no harm in just coming out with it. It wasn't like things could get any more awkward between them, was it? "When you were aboard the Prometheus, or maybe when you got back. I did something."

"You didn't," she protested, falling silent when he held up a hand to stop her.

"Something happened, Carter. You've been distant ever since, and I think I have a right to know why."

#

She couldn't decide if he was upset, angry or hurt. Probably a combination of the three, and she couldn't blame him for it, either.

But how could she explain it without humiliating herself? How could she reassure him that it was okay–just because he didn't have those kind of feelings for her anymore, it didn't mean that he'd done anything wrong and she would–was trying–to get over her own?

Oh, she'd tried to deny it to herself. She'd tried putting a bit of distance between them after her hallucinations onboard the ship; she'd needed to come to terms with her subconscious's revelation that he was and always would be unobtainable, and after she'd done that, she'd come to realise that maybe the reason her mind had tried telling her that was because it had recognised what her heart hadn't: that he was no longer interested in one day, someday, pursuing what was–had been–between them.

So she'd thrown herself into her relationship with Pete, agreeing to the first date at her brother's encouragement and going along with it because it felt like the normal thing to do.

Except it might be normal, but it wasn't making her happy.

He wasn't making her happy.

But if settling for something less than what she wanted was the only way she could have the career she loved and the comfort she craved of someone to go home to, then she'd force herself to be content with it. She couldn't have Jack–Colonel O'Neill–even if he had still wanted her.

"I came to a realisation," she said eventually, knowing he wouldn't leave until she told him something. "I... When I said in my report that I had hallucinations that helped me figure out what to do, I wasn't lying. But they weren't only just about the problem aboard the Prometheus. I had some... personal... insights, too. I'm just trying to deal with them."

"Personal insights," he repeated after a moment. "And this has something to do with me?"

Her laugh was short and surprised, her expression a little incredulous as she turned to glance at him again. "Do you really want to talk about this, Sir?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"But that's not what we do," she argued. "We don't talk about it, we never have."

His eyes narrowed at the thinly veiled accusation in her voice. "It was your choice to leave it in the room, Carter, not mine."

"My choice?"

"Yes!"

"I suggested it," she conceded, her own eyes narrowing as she remembered that conversation in that room. "You didn't have to agree to it."

"I agreed because I thought that was what you wanted!" The volume of his voice rose, frustration and anger building up as he, too, remembered that conversation.

"I suggested it because it was what you wanted!"

"No, it wasn't," he said softly, hurt brown eyes locking with flashing blue. "It never was."

"But it is now? Because there's no point in taking it out of the room if there's nothing left."

He stiffened at her words and she didn't miss the hurt expression that crossed over his face. "Well, if that's the way you feel about it, Carter -"

"No, Sir." Her sigh stopped him from moving, the tear that he glimpsed fall from her eye even as she turned her face away caused him to freeze. "It's the way you feel about it."

"How I feel about it? How would you know how I feel? We don't talk about this stuff, Carter."

"Exactly." She drew her legs up to her chest and let her chin rest on her knees. "We don't talk about it, because there's nothing left to talk about."

#

If she hadn't sounded so sad about it, he would have walked away. He would have taken her words to mean there was nothing left to talk about it because her feelings for him had changed, but her words and her actions didn't seem to be saying the same thing.

"What did you see on the Prometheus, Sam?" His use of her first name caused her shoulders to tense, but she didn't look at him, nor did she answer. "Whatever you saw, or thought you saw... You know that was all in your head, don't you? You can't hold me responsible for whatever that was." He waited a beat, before sighing and shuffling a little closer to her. "Talk to me, Carter. Please."

Though she didn't speak for the longest time, she did lean in. Their arms went from brushing one another to being a constant pressure, and it would just take the slightest shift of her head to let it rest on his shoulder. "I... You were there, my Dad, Daniel, Teal'c... At one time or another you were all there giving me some kind of advice or shove in the right direction."

"I don't know what kind of advice my hallucinated counterpart gave you but if it's anything like the real me, I wouldn't be so sure it was the right direction," he said wryly.

"It's not just that, Sir. Things have been..." She sighed again. "It's okay if your feelings have changed. I understand. I just need a little time -"

"Woah, woah, woah. Carter. Sam." He frowned and stared at her, quirking an eyebrow when she eventually looked at him. "My feelings? You're the one dating the cop. Wait." His frown turned into an incredulous look. "You think I don't...? And that's why you're dating the cop?"

"Well, I..." Tongued tied and at a loss for what to say, Sam was saved from needing to think of something by the feeling of Jack's hand in her hair. She heard him mutter a 'for crying out loud' under his breath seconds before his lips slanted across hers and then she lost all ability to do anything but feel.

The kiss was, well, everything. Desperate, uncertain, hungry, passionate. She twisted so she could return it with equal fervour, hand lifting to his face, fingers carding through his hair as his hands tugged at her, pulling her impossibly closer.

The kiss she'd imagined was no comparison to what it was like to actually kiss him, and be kissed by him, no viruses involved and regulations be damned.

Regulations.

Damn.

Damn.

They were both breathing heavily when they parted, both staring at the other with glazed over eyes.

Sam blinked and her vision cleared in an instant. She suddenly saw all the feelings she'd told herself were no longer there reflected back at her in his eyes. After a moment, Jack began to smile.

Their silent communication was back, and stronger than ever.

#

"So, they threw you a party to welcome you to the planet," General Hammond summarised, deftly cutting Daniel off when the archaeologist paused amidst his lengthy explanation about the culture and people of Hanandra. "Can I safely assume there were no rituals and no underlying meaning to the festivities that I should be aware of?" This was aimed at the command duo of the unit; he didn't think he'd imagined something different between the Colonel and the Major when they'd come back through the Stargate but, as of yet, not one of his flagship team had asked to have a word in private.

"No, Sir," Jack said cheerily. "It was just a party, but a damn good one if I do say so. They know how to make their guests feel welcome!"

"Indeed," Teal'c added. "The people of Hanandra were most hospitable."

"They don't have a traditional marriage ceremony," Daniel chimed in, trying to be helpful but missing Sam's blush and Jack's eye roll. "They don't believe in making a big fuss when it comes to choosing a life partner, though they do have certain customs in order to claim one. For example, my research shows that in order to be considered married on Hanandra, all you need to do is to kiss your chosen in sight of the river. It's symbolic, actually. Water symbolises fertility, life and cleansing. It's the same in many cultures here on Earth, so I believe it was probably derived from some form of -"

"Daniel. Focus. A kiss by the river means you're married on Hanandra?"

Daniel didn't notice Jack's sudden interest in the Hanandran culture but George did, and had his suspicions about it. "Yes, essentially. It means you're choosing to cleanse yourself of your former life, a rebirth of such but in partnership with your chosen life partner."

As Daniel continued to talk, General Hammond watched Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter closely. They weren't paying their teammate any attention, either, and were instead doing that unnerving thing of holding an entire conversation without saying a word.

"Thank you, Doctor Jackson," George interrupted at what he hoped was a suitable place to bring the briefing to a close. "I look forward to reading all about it in your mission report. Colonel, Major," he continued, fixing the two officers at the table with a speculative glance. "Do you have anything you wish to add?"

Again, the duo exchanged a look. As one, they turned back to General Hammond.

"No, Sir," Sam said with a smile.

"Nothing to add here," Jack smirked.

George narrowed his eyes but let them get away with it. He was planning to retire soon anyway; then they'd be someone else's problem. "Dismissed."