Part Eight.

"So, chances are he probably heard you all speaking." Carter surmised as Dooley confirmed his room number, which surprise surprise, was right next door to Mitchels. Jack had to admit it was all pretty concrete evidence. It certainly fit well, except for one thing really.

"Why?" He asked. "What the hell did I ever do to the guy!?" It was just something he had to know. As far as he knew, he'd never met the guy until a couple of weeks ago when he was assigned as part of the team watched Jack's neighbourhood and later accompanying SG-1 on missions when the freaky accidents continued there too. He was still smarting from some of them, the gun back firing especially. That episode certainly knocked him on his backside for a good few hours.

"Maybe he was like Dooley and the others, though instead of joking about it, he took it further using their ideas to cover his trail." Carter again offered a pretty solid reason, but something with Jack just wasn't sitting right. "You okay, sir?"

"My arse has gone to sleep." He complained and shuffled to try and sort that particular problem out since standing was out of the question.

"We can continue this another time people." Said Hammond standing. "It's late and I'm sure, Jack at least needs some sleep."

"That's an affirmative, General." He said flatly not bothering to stand also as Hammond left the table, fingering Dooley to follow the senior officer into the more private surroundings of his office. "Leave some for me, sir!" Jack called, shooting Dooley with more one glare before the door closed on them. No way was he finished with the guy.

---

The base at night was a strange thing. With all the artificial lighting and the air - which had a kind of artificial taste to it too, since it was pushed through the ventilation from above - it was hard to tell when it was night or day really, but it was the mood really that changed the place. Maybe it was the vibe the people here on the night shift gave off, or maybe it was some kind of sensation, a by-product of dreams, since most people would now be sleeping. Or maybe Jack could just hear everyone snoring. What ever it was, there was a definite change to it all.

"Sir?" He looked up from watching his feet, not realising he had been thinking so intently on, not only his feet and how he had to keep them moving but, of other stuff. Like what had just been going on the conference room. He still found it hard to believe a guy he never met before wanted to kill him because he may - or may not - have trod on his toes at some point. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"I dunno, you gonna hit me if I haven't?" He knew all to well the fury of a woman's wrath, and just what a good right-hook most of them had. Sarah had one hell of a right-hook, heck, his jaw ached just thinking about it.

"No, sir." Carter confirmed with a giggle, her bright blue eyes sparkling a little and something happened in Jack's stomach that caught him by surprise a little. Now why the hell would he get butterflies simply because he made her laugh? "I was just saying, I'm gonna go and take a look at the Major's room, see if there's any indication he was perhaps spying on Dooley's group. Teal'c checking out his stuff and..."

"Am I really that bad?" He interrupted her. Sure he was glad she was keen on confirming they had found the right guy, but something was bugging him. "Was I really so hard on those guys that they would think up all that stuff?"

"No, sir. I don't think you are at all."

Sweet of her.

"Sir, no. Don't you dare think like that. They done something wrong and you punished them, you went easy on them if you ask me. The rules, the checks, the protocols, they're all there to protect us and the base. By seeing those rules are upheld you're protecting us all. It's the kind of guy you are." She smiled. "Besides, I think the reason they all done that, was because they were jealous."

"Ya think?"

"Yes, sir I do."

"Thanks, Carter."

"Anytime, sir."

A pause.

"You want a hand getting into..."

"Oh, you offering?" A mischievous glint formed in his eyes. Sure, there were regulations about dating people on your team, but there was nothing to stop him flirting, right?

Wait-a-minute.

Was she blushing?

"No, now that I think about it, you can struggle." She finally answered, her smile bright and wistful. "Good-night, sir."

"Night." He muttered long after she was out of ear-shot.

---

Okay, now he was wishing he hadn't scared Carter off with that really cheesy line, since now he was almost at the infirmary his arms were killing him. The crutches were hard work and the added weight he was carrying along with him in the form of a plaster cast wasn't helping.

Okay, now he really wished he hadn't pissed Frasier off with that equally cheesy line and had the chair confiscated.

Man, he was loosing his touch.

With a determined grunt he rounded the corner and beheld a sight he never in a million years thought he would be happy to see. The infirmary doors. A couple more hops and he would be in the nice, warm, comfortable bed. The hallway bobbed before him as he hobbled towards his target, the promise of finally being able to lay down giving him that bit more get-up-and-go.

He was to focused on getting by that he didn't give the guy ahead of him a second thought. And why should he? A week or two ago he might have been a bit more cautious since there had been attempts on his life, but with the guy responsible for all of that now locked up in the morgue, there really was no need for him to show that kind of caution.

A way of thinking he now wish had reconsidered. He should have trusted that gut feeling of his since it very rarely let him down. He knew everyone had that sort of 'feeling' that extra sense, his had been honed sharper than the blade now currently buried in his hip, why hadn't he listened to it?