She waited patiently for him to say something and eventually he looked up and met her eyes again.
"How could you know? I never said," he muttered in a low voice.
"Precisely."
"One of the things on your list, right?"
"You betchya," she replied with a smile, willing him to continue. Would he talk to her, tell her why he left, why he hid himself away?
"Can you imagine me in DC?" he asked, but didn't seem to be expecting a reply. "Sam, I was pissed off with sending people to die in alien lands with only the flourish of my signature on yet more boring paperwork. A bit hands off, don't you think? I wasn't able to do much about it because I wasn't there, so I wanted to leave. I didn't want to do it anymore so I gave up on it."
"That's it?"
"You think there's more?" He eyed her with surprise. Damn her, yes there was more. If she didn't already know, Jack wasn't sure he wanted to tell her. She nodded an affirmative but he merely lapsed into silence, wondering how much he should say. "Anyway, they wouldn't let me go unless I continued to do something for the program," he said eventually, deliberately moving the conversation back the original topic. "This is it."
Sam tracked the discussion back and realised what he was saying, deciding not to press about the other more thorny issues and wait for another chance. "So you assess these kids for the program?" She was surprised no one had ever mentioned it. Landry had to know but he'd never said anything.
"That about sums it up." He picked up his coffee and took a sip, keeping the cup raised to his lips, but not continuing to drink. Sam was pretty sure he was using the cup as a prop. Jack O'Neill was very good at hiding, but now they'd got this far she wasn't going to let the subject drop.
"B-but literature?" she queried. "Wouldn't you be better assessing them by teaching something else?"
"Possibly, but I'm a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that."
"In other words, you teach it to spite them? Still sticking it to the man?" she said with a laugh.
"Something like that." Putting his coffee down, he reached for the cake, taking a huge bite.
"Wouldn't you be happier…?"
"No!" he exclaimed, nearly spitting the cake out all over her. Hurriedly he tried to swallow, taking another sip of coffee to wash the cake down. From his irritated tone, Sam took the hint not to go there. Another time perhaps.
"You really are full of surprises, Jack O'Neill."
"One of 'em being that I'm way more intellectual than you ever dreamed possible?" he queried with a self-deprecating smile.
"That's no surprise. You always were a clever man, but just even more clever at hiding it."
"Very astute, Sam."
"We worked together for a long time. We were friends."
"I hope we still are."
"Then why…?"
"Isn't it a little late for a post-mortem on all of that." In an attempt to detract from the subject, he picked up the cup again. Sam felt like snatching it off him and forcing him to expose himself, but didn't.
"Is it?" she asked, persistently.
"We are where we are. Nothing we say is going to change it. Let's… can we just move forward?"
"I'm not sure," she said with a shake of her head, tearing her gaze from his at last and starting on her own slice of cake.
Surreptitiously, Jack watched from behind cautiously lowered lashes as she closed her eyes and made a small appreciative noise while the cake melted in her mouth, savoring its dark chocolate taste and soft crumbly texture. As she stuck out her tongue to lick up a small morsel that had escaped onto her lips, he shivered with pleasure, making a conscious effort to stop a sigh freeing itself from his mouth.
Oblivious to his rapt attention, Sam enjoyed the cake's rich dark flavor while wondering exactly what he meant by moving forward. She didn't have the courage to push it and returned to a slightly less personal topic.
"So why didn't you come back to the SGC? Put them through their training paces?"
"What, go through all those awful training scenarios like in the old days?" He smiled, sucking in a breath and raising his long lashes to look up. "We could have done better."
"We could have done worse. Besides, we've improved all that since then."
"I know. I created most of the new scenarios."
"You did?" she questioned, taken aback, but Jack merely shrugged and said nothing. "Another surprise."
"I'm full of 'em."
"So why don't you get more involved? Why the back seat?"
"That kind of thing is for the young."
"You're not that old," she objected and he sighed, looking at her askance.
"Take a look around this place. They all think I'm old. Did you know a lot of them call me the old general? Age is relative."
"The old general?" she queried with an expression that made it seem as if it was a personal insult to her. "They have no idea, they're just kids. Sure age is relative but a lot of it is in the mind. Jeez, you're still in your fifties. That's not old, you've just given up."
"No I haven't. I'm here, aren't I?"
"Don't deny it, Jack. Why?"
"Sam I…" He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence as a small cough interrupted them. "Ack! What do you want, Thompson?" Jack asked, turning to face the young cadet.
"Ummm… I-I just wanted to tell the colonel how much I enjoyed her lecture. You were right, sir."
"Was I indeed? That's gratifying."
"You enjoyed the lecture, Cadet?" Sam asked, giving Jack a dirty look for his sarcastic manner towards the young man.
"Yes, ma'am!"
Sam talked to the boy about wormholes for a short time, while Jack sat back and let it wash over him, munching on cake and playing with his coffee cup. By the time the pair had finished, Jack was almost out of time and cursed. He could have happily strangled Thompson for hijacking some of the precious time he was spending with his old friend, although had to admit the interruption had saved his ass from her uncomfortably probing curiosity, for now.
"That boy's got a crush on you," Sam said after Thompson had left.
"How the heck do you know that? He wasn't even talking to me!"
"It was pretty obvious. Cute!"
Jack rolled his eyes. "One of the pitfalls of doing this job. Never can work out why they pick me."
"I could tell you," she responded in a teasing tone.
"Really?"
"But another time, Jack, another time."
He grinned and nodded, thinking about how to engineer that other time.
"Ummm… I've got a tutorial so I guess I'm gonna have to run," he said, wishing he had more time. He got up to leave but didn't turn away, leaning over her instead. "Just one thing. I'm not doing this to stick it to the man."
"You're not?" she asked, looking up to meet his eyes and trying not to get flustered by his proximity and imposing manner. He certainly still had it, whatever it was he had. She wished she knew.
"You know what Einstein said about imagination being more important than knowledge?" he queried, thinking she must know the quote.
"You're quoting Einstein?" she said with a small laugh.
"You prefer dumb Jack?" he asked curiously, arching an eyebrow.
"No, I think this one's starting to grow on me," she responded with a smile. "Yes, I know the quote. 'Imagination is more important than knowledge…"
Jack interrupted to complete the quote "For knowledge is limited to all we know now and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand."
"He was thinking of science."
"But it applies to anything, and literature is great for the imagination. I'm not qualified to be looking for scientists that might fit into the SGC. I'll leave that to the experts like you. I'm looking for future leaders of men - cadets with the balls to make good use of their imaginations. The SGC requires the extraordinary, not the ordinary. Teaching literature is perfect. Besides, I know my stuff and I'm good at it. And more to the point, I enjoy it. When I see that spark…" He tailed off wondering if she thought he'd cracked, but was gratified to realise she understood exactly what he was talking about.
"That spark. Yep, I get it."
"You always had it."
A faint flush appeared on Sam's cheeks at that comment. "You too," she said.
As he lifted his fingers to run them briefly over her soft cheek, Jack smiled gently. Sam shivered. Oh man! There was that 'it' again. And with a capital I and T.
"W-we'll see each other again, right?" he asked with a hint of nervousness, withdrawing his hand. Despite her chaotic thoughts, Sam's eyes didn't waver from his gaze.
"Call me."
"T-tell Daniel… Teal'c…" He tailed off, feeling awkward and looking slightly ashamed. They hadn't abandoned him, he'd abandoned them.
"I will." She squeezed his arm affectionately and stood up to kiss his cheek, shocking him yet again by her behaviour. Not that Jack was complaining. "You will call, won't you?"
"I promise."
He turned, walking towards the door and his tutorial without looking back, although that was tough, and leaving them both with a lot to think about.
On P4X-928:
The craft were small and when the noise of their engines stopped, Jack realised they must have landed, but the ships were outside of his limited visual range and he cursed that, half inclined to scout around and see what kind of aliens they might be.
"Damn this radio silence crap!" he muttered aloud, pulling the radio close to his lips and signalling.
"Carter? Come in? You okay?"
"Sir? I thought we weren't supposed to be using these things."
"Yeah, well plans change. Did you see the ships?"
"I heard something but couldn't see what it was."
"Bogies have landed. Not any kind of ship I've ever seen before. I'm not sure we should hang around long enough to say hello, do you?" He didn't wait for a response. "This mission is a bust. Get to my position. We need to get out of here."
"Copy that. Where are you?"
"By the lake, close to the Stargate, exactly where I'm supposed to be." He smirked at the gasp coming from Carter's lips when he revealed his location. "Where are you?"
"Um, a few clicks south of your position," she sighed wistfully, aware she had failed in her mission. "You haven't lost your touch then, sir." She smiled into the radio.
"It seems that way, Carter." He grinned, exultant with his success. "Did you think I had? O'Neill out." He clicked off the radio, not wishing to say more than he had to, and hunkered down to wait for her and the others to arrive.
It wasn't long before he got restless, and curious. Who were these aliens and what the hell did they want on this godforsaken world? O'Neill thought with some stealth and a little bit of luck, he might be able to find out something useful and be back before Sam and the others arrived. He'd missed that off-world, potential peril rush and here was a perfect opportunity for a little excitement. Jack knew he shouldn't, not with the kids heading his way, but decided to risk it.
Cautiously he moved back into the darkness of the forest, melting into the trees as if he wasn't there and making his way towards the place he figured they must have landed the ships. Landing in these parts was a problem as there was very little open country, but Jack knew where he'd have parked the car and headed in that direction.
As he got close to the clearing O'Neill kept low, squatting behind some large fern like plants to spy on the aliens. He'd been right, of course, this was where they'd landed. Where else? Peeking out from his hideaway he noted the aliens looked human, well mainly, which didn't mean they weren't dangerous. Jack was in a good position to know exactly how dangerous humans could be and didn't want to take any chances.
He tried to make out what they were doing and it appeared they were collecting lots of plants. Alien botanists? Then he saw one of them press what looked like a remote control and out of the ground popped a large metallic rectangle of flat metal that stopped at ground height. Another movement of the alien's finger and a couple of human height metal poles appeared to grow from the rectangle, at which point the alien stepped into the object, grasping a pole, and promptly disappeared underground, leaving no sign of its presence behind.
'Whoa!' Jack thought, 'what's that, an alien elevator?' His curiosity was boosted almost 100. Nothing the SGC had learned about this planet suggested there might be technology hidden away underground, and these humanoids were well advanced. Was this place inhabited, or maybe a science station? Sam was so going to love this. But he shouldn't take risks, not while they were babysitting.
With this in mind, he watched quietly for a short time, but was unable to discern much from what little he could see. Glancing at his watch, O'Neill realised the others would probably reach the rendezvous soon so quietly reversed his course and returned to wait for them, apparently unseen and unheard in the glowering and eerie forest.
Elsewhere on P4X-928:
Sam pushed through the dense forest, two of her charges taking point and two coming up behind. Major Smith and Lieutenant Alexander followed at the rear, protecting their backs. Jack's report of unknown alien ships had her worried. They had deliberately chosen the planet for this off-world acclimatisation, training and testing exercise because it was uninhabited and relatively safe.
It was also pretty alien, and it was important for these young graduates, who might one day become the future leaders at the SGC, to comprehend just how alien the environment could be, to unsettle and throw them off balance slightly and test how they dealt with it - but they hadn't brought them there to get the trainees killed.
The idea had seemed a good one at the time. Jack's scenario was they play a game of fox and hounds with an experienced field officer, in this case him, as the fox and the trainees as the hounds. Take them miles from the gate, give Jack a head start and then find and capture him before he reached the gate. The scenario involved part tracking and hunting, leadership skills and lots of teamwork. It had started well, but O'Neill had been way too wily.
Sam had realised a long time ago that Jack was going to win, but had said nothing. The trainees were running this show. She and the others were there to keep a watchful eye, keep score, and make sure they didn't do something stupid enough to get themselves hopelessly lost or even killed. You can't simply let trainees run riot on alien planets without supervision and protection.
This group had screwed up and they knew it, but they would learn from the screw up and hopefully mature as a result. If they captured the fox, that gained maximum points, but what they did along the way was probably more important and Sam, Smith and Alexander noted the good, bad and indifferent. She had formed an opinion of each of these four young trainees, and her assessments included a lot of positives, but she despaired at the negatives.
Jack had won by reaching the gate without the group capturing him, a pretty tall order in the first place and they'd both known that before they started. Nevertheless, he would never let her live this down. She could imagine him giving her a major league headache with his gloating. And then there was the side bet to consider. She'd lost, sheesh!
"How the heck did the old general do it?" Sam heard one of the graduates in front whisper to his companion. She pretended not to hear but her ears pricked up at Taylor's words. "It must be years since he's been in the field. The guy's got to be rusty, and he's way old. I can't figure how he evaded us to get back to the gate."
"Ack! He's not so old and youth isn't everything! We lost, he won. He's obviously better than you think." Sam smiled. Taylor's companion was the faithful and lovelorn Thompson. She wasn't happy about the references to Jack's age, as if he were an old man, which he wasn't, but she figured from the perspective of these youngsters he probably seemed old. Jack had been right about that. Someone in their thirties would seem old to some of these young graduates.
"But he teaches literature, for god's sake. If he's any good what's he doing at the Academy teaching a nothing subject like that?"
Sam felt her hackles rise at this assessment of her ex-CO. The arrogant young pup needed to learn a few hard lessons about judging books by their covers. Older he might be but Jack hadn't lost his touch just because he immersed himself in a pile of books rather than being out in the field. Although if they'd known aliens were coming, none of them would be there, especially not Jack. She'd had a nightmare getting this whole thing set up in the first place, particularly using Jack as the fox rather than a currently active officer.
No one could deny that O'Neill had been good in his day, but it wasn't his day anymore and some people had emphasised that point in no uncertain terms. Sam had pushed for Jack because she knew he'd love the chance to go off-world again, albeit on a relatively safe training scenario, and seeing the light dance in his eyes when she told him they'd agreed had been worth the fight.
Now, she wondered if she would live to regret it. If anything bad happened her career prospects wouldn't be worth a dime. Maybe they should have brought another SG team along for the ride too. Sam cursed herself for being so dismissive of that notion when Jack had raised it. Should have known better. Always listen to O'Neill – O'Neill's instincts are always right. He'd gone along with it but, being a worse case scenario kind of guy, he'd had doubts about the safety of the trainees. She'd probably never live that down either. Sheesh!
"Hey!" Thompson objected, voice raised in anger with Taylor this time, "there is nothing wrong with literature." He'd loved the subject. O'Neill made it really interesting.
"It's for cissies," Taylor retorted and, although she was pleased to hear Thompson defending her ex-CO's honor, Sam decided to ignore him no longer, calling a halt. Thompson and Taylor turned to face her.
"That's enough Taylor. You think I'm deaf?" she said, feeling angrier then she appeared. Instead she was the stern colonel, in charge of the mutinous troops. Taylor was dismayed that she'd heard but started to open his big mouth, although Sam didn't let him get any further.
"You want to know how he evaded us, Taylor? He's got more guile in his little finger than you have in that well trained but inexperienced body. And if you ever get half the experience, or become half the leader and hero he is, you'll be a lucky man, and maybe you'll finish your career as a general too, although I seriously doubt you'll do any of those things. If I hear you disrespecting General O'Neill again you will be out of the program so fast that you won't even have time to pack. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes ma'am!" Taylor responded, looking suitably chastised.
Sam seemed satisfied with that response. "Let's rest up a little and have some water and an energy bar," she suggested.
"Aren't we nearly there, Colonel?" one of the trainees queried, and Sam threw her a dirty look.
"Sit, Velasquez," she ordered, following her own orders and joining Smith and Alexander to perch on a dry log. Taking a drink from her canteen, she swallowed and glowered at the four trainees. "Can any of you think of a good reason why I made this suggestion when we're so close to our goal?" she asked. Thompson's hand shot up eagerly. "You're not at the Academy now, Thompson, speak up."
"Because we don't know what we might have to face when we get back to the gate. What if it's been taken by the enemy?"
'Yeah, definitely should have had a team guarding the gate,' she thought ruefully. "Good response, Thompson," she said aloud. "We might need that energy. So eat up, and rest."
Sam hoped that gave them something to think about and watched as they each took an energy bar out of their pockets and started to munch, washing it down with water from their canteens. After exchanging a few quiet words with Alexander and Smith to agree a change of plan now they knew Jack had reached the rendezvous, she opened up a bar for herself and took a bite, spotting something out of the corner of her eye.
"Taylor, are you a total moron? Didn't anyone ever teach you to pick up your trash?" Gingerly, Taylor picked up the wrapper he'd so casually tossed aside, realising regretfully that he wasn't making a particularly good impression on this woman who was such a power at the SGC. "It's bad enough to do that on Earth but this is an alien planet. It doesn't belong to us, so treat it with some respect. And never leave such an obvious trail for your potential enemies." He looked suitably cowed and ashamed and she turned her attention to one of the other trainees, who appeared to want to ask a question.
"Ma'am?" Velasquez ventured, "With all due respect, aren't these guys with the ships just part of the training scenario?"
"If they were do you think I would tell you, Velasquez?" Sam retorted, despairing that if these were the best of a bunch, the future of the SGC was at risk. "But they aren't. This is real, so keep your heads out of your butts." Noting the look of fear in Velasquez's eyes, she softened her tone. "The general is the best. He won't let anything happen to any of you, and neither will I." They all nodded, but some of them looked doubtful.
"Is he really a hero, Colonel Carter?" Thompson asked with an eager cheekiness, hoping she might reveal something about his adventures in that life he'd left behind.
Sam nodded and smiled. "Oh yeah, he's definitely one of those, many times over. I was there - served with him for over eight years. The best of the best." She noticed that Thompson looked expectant. "But you'll never hear him brag about it," she added. "Jack O'Neill doesn't consider himself a hero. He thinks he was just doing his job."
"And wasn't he?" Taylor queried.
"And way more, Taylor. A lot, lot more. Saving lives, the planet, and the universe. That's what SG-1 did – still does occasionally." Her lips bore a wistful smile as she spoke. So many memories…
"Sounds kinda romantic," Velasquez said dreamily.
"That's the sort of notion that will get you killed," Sam stated matter of factly, and Velasquez blushed, embarrassed by her faux pas. "It's not romantic, that I can promise you. Killing people never is. And damned near getting killed isn't either. Always remember that." Velasquez nodded, mortified, but hopefully all the wiser for those words.
"With all due respect, ma'am, can't you tell us just one little story?" Thompson probed hopefully.
"I don't think so," she replied with a small grin. "If the general won't, you think I will? SGC missions are classified, Thompson, but maybe one day you'll get to read the files."
"Yes, ma'am," Thompson replied, smiling happily at the thought he might gain access to these adventures one day. "I'm not at all surprised he beat us, Colonel," he added with a look of adoration in his eyes as he pondered his hero O'Neill.
"Ha! That's all right for you to say but I bet him the price of a good meal that we would get him," Sam retorted good-humouredly. "Okay. That's long enough. On your feet and let's get going. And try to remember stealth. It might be a real enemy out there."
The price of a good meal, oy! She owed Jack. Not a princely sum, but it was the principle. He'd won, damn it! On the other hand, she thought she might enjoy the night out. A lot had changed in the last few months, since that fateful cup of coffee and cake after her lecture.
Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, a few months earlier:
Of course Jack didn't call her, or not quickly. He'd planned to, but every time he reached for the phone he lost it. He was more than surprised, therefore, when someone knocked at the door during one of his smaller tutorials and it was Sam who entered the room.
"Colonel Carter! Nice surprise," he said in an attempt to be nonchalant, politely standing to greet her while the cadets stood to rigid attention.
"At ease," she ordered the youngsters and they obeyed. "General O'Neill," she nodded towards him, a perky smile on her face. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but do you mind if I sit in?"
Jack was stunned. What could he say? Refusal would seem churlish, and in his own mind, very cowardly. Butterflies rose into the air and flew around in the pit of his stomach. He so didn't want to seem like a jerk, either to Carter or to his students.
"Sure, Carter, come in. Sit." He indicated a chair with a wild wave of an arm. Sam could tell he was nervous and smiled inwardly. She was so going to enjoy this. "And the rest of you, sit."
"I'll be quiet as a mouse, I promise," she said.
"Well, join in if you wish. I'm sure the cadets won't mind." There was a murmur of agreement from the assembled gathering. Jack sat, trying to turn his attention back to the discussion she'd interrupted.
Sam was curious to see Jack in action and relaxed, determined to observe. Literature was so not her area and Jack could probably wipe the floor with her in a discussion around a book or poem. The irony wasn't lost on her after all of those years blinding him with science, although as far as that was concerned, Sam realised Jack wasn't quite the dummy he'd pretended to be. Full of surprises. She smiled to herself at the thought.
"Now, where were we?" O'Neill said as if reminding himself, but actually giving himself a few seconds to adjust to her presence. "Ah yes, Jenkins, I think you were saying something about Hemingway?"
"Um, y-yes sir. He thought The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was the book from which all modern American literature came. What do you think?"
"What I think doesn't count for much, Jenkins. What do you think?" Jack prodded and the young cadet's eyes lit up as he warmed to the notion of airing his views. Jack smiled inwardly. He so loved to see that spark in these young cadets. This was the very thing he wanted to encourage – they had to think for themselves as well as learn to follow the rules and obey orders. That was quite some tightrope to learn to walk.
"These days it could be considered as racist," Jenkins ventured tentatively.
"Sure, there's been controversy over the years, but…?"
"But you have to put it into the context of its time, right?"
"And…?"
Sam warmed to the theme, getting wrapped up in the discussion and thoroughly enjoying it. At least she'd read Huck Finn and some other Twain, so had an inkling of what they were talking about. Jack was a good facilitator. Once they'd warmed up, he let the students lead the discussion with as little prodding as he could get away with, and the odd comment to get them thinking and take them off on another tangent. It was fascinating to watch.
She'd known he wouldn't call, or if he did it would take weeks rather than days, so had decided to catch him off guard and wrong-footed. Intrigued to see him teach, she made enquiries about his timetabling and had chosen to drop in at this moment deliberately, realising he would shine at his best with the smaller group – the cadets who took a genuine interest in the subject because they were majoring in English and not just there because they were obliged to be there.
Her ulterior motives for coming would reveal themselves in due time. She had more than one reason for turning up, and was taking advantage of one of those right now merely by listening and watching.
As ever, Jack spoke volumes with his hands and eyes. She could tell he was enjoying every minute, the temporary nerves having disappeared into thin air to be replaced by boyish enthusiasm. Sam loved it. The experience revealed so much about him that had been deliberately hidden. The man had an astute brain, and for way more than leading a team and all those other military attributes she'd always admired in him.
"So, what did you think?" he asked, remaining in his chair once the students had left. Sam also stayed in her seat, unable to bring herself to move closer to O'Neill.
"Imagination, I get it," she replied with a nod and grin, and he returned the smile, pleased by her words. "You seem to bring out the best in them, Captain my Captain." Jack chuckled, amused by the reference. Apparently this was going to become a standing joke.
"I hope so."
"You have a way of doing that."
"Do I?"
"Worked with me."
"You were always my best student."
"Thank you… I think."
They both smirked but then an awkward silence fell between them and they kept glancing at each other and then finding something else with which to occupy their eyes, although the room wasn't particularly diverting.
"So why'd you come, Sam?" he asked eventually, breaking that self-conscious silence.
"You didn't call," she answered, her eyes boring into his. Jack took a breath and hastily looked away, distinctly uncomfortable.
"Um, I, um… no." He stared down at his thumbs as they wove around each other restlessly.
"I'd like for us to stay friends," she ventured. "I don't want to lose you this time."
"You never lost me. I was always there," he said, this time deliberately meeting and holding her gaze, his thumbs coming to rest at last.
"Well next time, you might tell me that."
"I thought I had." His eyes pulled away from hers again and he picked up a pen from the desk next to him and started to fidget. Sam couldn't help but stare at his restless hands. They were irritating and fascinating to watch, in almost equal measure. Silence dragged on until she pulled her thoughts together for something to say, turning away from the subject they'd strayed on to.
"I wanted to see you in action. I wanted to witness something I'd never even dreamed was possible."
"Professor O'Neill?" he quipped wryly.
"Somewhat akin to Professor Indiana Jones," she joked.
"No, that's more Daniel's thing," he riposted jovially.
"Talking of whom, he's having a small party. He'd like for you to come." There, that was another ulterior motive dealt with. Jack looked both surprised and unnerved by the notion.
"Oh, I don't know…" he tailed off, chewing on his bottom lip. "Daniel wants me to go? I thought he'd be angry with me."
"I think he is."
"Then…?" O'Neill looked at her with a question in his eyes. Why? Sam could see he couldn't fathom the reasons why his old friends would wish to get in touch when he had pushed them out of his life so completely for so long.
He'd been thinking about this a lot since he'd last seen Sam. For quite a while, Jack had resented the loss of their friendship, blaming his old team for its demise, but her words had made him reconsider and realise what a difficult man he was to be friends with. They had expected more from him and he hadn't given it, so they'd given up. Friendship couldn't be one-sided, it had to work both ways – give and take, not just take, take, take.
Jack could recall the many attempts Daniel had made to insinuate himself in his life, and he had thoughtlessly pushed him away. It wasn't that he didn't crave the friendship, but he guarded his privacy and personal life so fiercely that he made it damned near impossible for people to get too close.
He'd had his reasons, but Daniel couldn't have known them because he hadn't been forthcoming. Closed up like a clam as ever. The same thing with all his friends. No wonder he lost them. Jack wasn't sure he was capable of giving the kind of friendship Daniel had appeared to want. He wasn't a 'confide your closest secrets to a best friend' kind of guy.
As for Sam and Teal'c, the Jaffa had been so busy with his off-world activities, and Sam… Jack had always been tentative about that particular friendship and wasn't sure what either of them wanted from it anymore. He hadn't been for a long time and had feared he'd left it too late to make amends. But he hadn't tried, had he? He'd been cursing himself for being an old fool for days but frankly wasn't certain what to do about it, or about any of his old friends.
"W-what?" he queried when he realised that Sam had been speaking and he hadn't heard a word. She sighed and shot him a reproving look but didn't chastise him for his inattention. This was Jack and if he was acting Jackish then go figure! You took Jack as is, or not at all. She preferred the as is to the not at all.
"I said Daniel is like the rest of us, he's missed you. And don't start with that he could have called nonsense."
"I wasn't going to, honest!" Jack exclaimed defensively, using an appropriate gesture to emphasise the point.
"You'll come?" She could see and understand his reluctance to commit to such an act, but had to press. Daniel had been insistent, and she wanted Jack to be there.
"When is it?" he asked after a lengthy pause during which he'd been lost for words. Denying Sam anything was hard, but the idea of seeing Daniel again, and the accusation and recrimination in his old friend's eyes, filled him with dread. On the other hand, he wanted this. He wanted it more than he had imagined. He'd missed them, all of them.
To be continued