Beneath his surface

Episode tag to 'Beneath the surface'

Hey friends, so far this was my favorite chapter to write. In the entire"Lost and Found" story, I'm trying to go back to the most important S/J moments and put my spin on what happened around them or went through their heads while trying to stay true what we saw on screen aka not changing the actual flow of the story. I could never imagine that nothing happened between the two in Beneath the Surface and that Jack would just go back easily after that. So here's what I imagine could have happened the night after they come back.

As always: I love reading your comments, they keep me writing.

The night he signed the divorce papers, he had twelve whiskeys. The one, the barkeeper is pushing over the counter is today's number six. For sure, not the last one. His head still feels way too clear, and he needs to drown every recollection of the past mission in so much liquor that it would never come back. Maybe the worst hangover ever would replace the feelings he is feeling. Not one second passes in which he doesn't think about what happened between them. How good it felt to be with her. If she could make hard manual labor, malnutrition, no inch of privacy—if she could make being a slave feel good— hell, how good would it feel to be with her here on earth on an average day?

"There's a hot blonde checking you out," the bartender interrupts his thinking.

Jack huffs and takes another sip from his drink. He's not planning on talking to anyone tonight. To make sure the bartender gets that, he sends an angry glance to him. Too late, the mentioning of a 'blonde' brings her immediately back. And his thoughts don't stop at her blonde head. Without him being able to hinder them, they wander down to her blue eyes and to the shy but lovestruck way she had looked at him. Down to her lips. The memory of how soft they felt immediately rouses something in his stomach. His thoughts wander further to her collarbone and that vulnerable spot between bone and neck and how she sighed when he kissed her there. Next, and this sends a sting into his groin, her breasts. He blows his cheeks and quickly takes a sip as if that would make the images less vivid. He never thought he would get to be with her in this way. But if he had believed getting it out of the system once would make it better, he was mistaken. The one time deeply satisfied him yet left him hungry in a new, gnawing way.

"Dude, she's walking over," the bartender says, his eyes fixed on this ominous woman Jack doesn't want to meet. On the other hand, maybe it's just the distraction he needs tonight. He downs his drink, looks up, and regrets doing so right away.

For crying out loud.

"Carter." It doesn't sound friendly nor inviting; nevertheless, she sits down next to him.

"Can I get one? Make it a double actually," she says and points at Jack's drink.

"What are you doing here?" He wants to make sure that there's no way she thinks it's okay for her to be here right now.

"I didn't know you would be here."

"Do you come here often?"

"No, actually never."

"So, how would you know?"

She doesn't answer instead downs her drink and motions for another one. If she's upset by the way he's treating her, it doesn't show. For tonight he doesn't care. Tonight he deserves to be angry. Angry that she can just put it away that easily, and he can't. His disappointed mind doesn't even allow him to understand that it's probably not that easy for her either if she shows up at a place like this.

"You shouldn't be here," he says. Really wanting her to go.

"This bar?"

Common Carter, playing dumb doesn't suit you.

"Around me," he says and for the first time looks at her. She reciprocates his look before she turns back to her drink—a mix of understanding and hurt in her eyes.

For a while, they sit silently next to each other, both nursing their drinks. Thirty years of military experience pay off when he notices without even looking up how another guy takes a seat next to Carter. Body turned to her, unable to believe his luck of having found such an extraordinary example of a woman in this hell of a place. Jack knows what the guy is thinking: who comes here needs to forget something, and a quick hookup can help at least for a moment.

„You alone," he hears the guy say and is disgusted by how his voice gives everything away. Yes she is, Jack thinks, and as if to make her understand that too, he gets up and slurps towards the restroom. He hears her say, „Yes, and I prefer it that way." He can't help but feel a bit proud.

As he walks back to the bar and notices that she's still there and the guy isn't, he sighs and decides for a glass of water as a peace offering.

„You gotta drink water in between."

From the look she gives him he knows that's she not here to do it the pain-free way, yet she takes a sip anyways.

He takes his old seat and can feel the eyes of his rival dart into his back. Usually, it would feel like a small victory, but tonight, it feels like a burden. He's licking his emotional wounds with a whiskey-soaked tongue when she breaks the silence.

"It's not easy for me either," she whispers.

"What?" Playing dumb is much more his forte.

"Going back to normal."

"You switch back and forth pretty smoothly," he says with the intention to hurt her although what he really wants to know is if she even feels the same way he does.

"Not really."

"No?"

"As a woman in the Air Force, you learn a thing or two about hiding how you feel. It's like showing any feelings is considered a weakness." He feels her eyes on him. "You know that. You're good at it yourself."

It's not that he doesn't know how hard it is for women to make it in the Air Force. Back when he was a cadet, there was this girl who started with him. He remembers vividly how she was teased and pranked and sexually assaulted and, in the end, tried to prove herself so badly in a robe climbing exercise that she fell and broke her back. The dream of serving the country extinguished by guys that thought she wasn't worth the same dream as they. The first weeks with Carter under his command had been just a painful reminder. She had tried so hard to prove herself to him. He still thinks that the incident with the Shavadei had been a part of it. It had taken him a great deal of convincing to make her understand that he respected her. As he thinks about it, he realizes that her feelings for him, his feelings for her undermine everything she has achieved. Suddenly he's overwhelmed with regret for how he is treating her. She is brilliant and has a shining career in front of her, and this between them is the Achilles heel of all of it.

"I'm sorry," he says and hopes she can follow him to where his mind has wandered. In the field, in the briefing room, she can read him, and the last months have shown not only there.

„What for?"

„For sometimes just thinking like a guy who's in…, well not like your Colonel anyway."

Whoops, almost.

His heart starts galloping in his chest, and he doesn't dare to look at her out of fear his face might give away what he just held back. From the way she inhales sharply, it's clear she didn't miss his slip. Another long sip of whiskey later, she breaks the silence of which he's not sure was silent after all because his heartbeat is hammering so loudly.

„I like both," she whispers. „And that's the problem."

Jack is aware of needing his wits about him to reply to this rather alarming declaration, but it is as his heightened heartbeat has pumped the amounts of alcohol consumed into every cell of his body. Maybe because he doesn't react and only holds onto the bar as if his life depends on it, she says, „But we've both had crushes. They usually go away."

Compared to everything she said before, this sounds cold and controlled, and it twists his insides. A crush? He wouldn't be sitting here trying to drink himself into oblivion if she was just a crush. And up until now, he thought that was true for how she felt too. That this was something forbidden but something big and profound and probably life-changing. Jack doesn't know what to say; only knows that he can't stand being around her anymore. Knocking over his chair, he jumps up, smashes cash onto the bar, and without even looking at her leaves.

The cold air hits his face but fails to clear his head. He takes a deep breath and lets the air out in a loud hush as if he could blow out all the emotions.

"Hey." Her voice is behind him.

"What now?" Jack growls.

She's taken aback by his anger.

"I just wanted to make sure you are not driving."

"I've done this before, Carter. I'm gonna get a cab."

"Okay, it's just…"

„What?" He swirls around, and suddenly she's right there. Way too close for a night like this. After days of not remembering the rules that make this so very complicated. Big blue eyes meet squinted brown ones that have turned black from the rage that's building in him. He doesn't know who it's directed at. Her? Yes. Himself? Hell yes. A nervous sigh escapes her lips, and she tilts her head to the side just the way she always does when emotions are about to overwhelm her. It's a feeling he shares. And then she bites her lip, and it's all over for him. Like in an attack, he jumps forward, grabs her arms, pulls them behind her back and pushes her onto the car that's right behind her. His body crushes against hers. The warmth of her breath swirls around his face. The soft cushions of her breast feel incredible against his chest. He can't think. Only feel. How much he wants her. How much she means to him. How badly he wants to forget everything. The look on her face is a wild mix of emotions: shock, resentment, and undoubtedly and most importantly, deep affection. Seeing all of it in her face freezes him only inches before his lips press against hers. His breath is angry and aroused. Aroused and scared is hers. She can see his inner turmoil. See the man fighting the Colonel. When the realization hits of what he's doing, he lets her go. Slowly, carefully, he steps back, bringing the much-needed distance back between them. Only his hands can't let go yet and hold onto hers. With a deep sigh, he lowers his eyes and looks at their hands. He had grabbed her wrists, but somehow her fingers found their way to his, and now they are interwoven just as if she wants them to be right there. She squeezes his hand softly, and when he looks up, he finds a single tear sparkling down her cheek in the moonlight.

"It's not a crush," he says and gently strokes his thumb over her hand before he lets go and turns around to disappear in the darkness.

"Jack."

He's halfway over the parking lot when he hears his name. She doesn't say anything else, but using his first name says it all.