O'NEILL (getting Carter's attention): Hey.
[She stops.]
O'NEILL: So, nice command.
CARTER: We did manage to make it out alive, sir.
O'NEILL: There's that. Lunch?
Lunch is delayed by their mandatory post-mission trip to the infirmary where Jack hovers in the corner of the room while half of his team are checked over after their return from Anubis's Super Soldier factory. Janet fusses and tuts about Sam's arm; though X-rays confirm no break, it is swollen therefore Janet wraps her wrist and prescribes painkillers. By the time they leave the infirmary, they don't have time to swing by the commissary for food so they head to the locker room to change.
If Jack thought Sam's arm would hinder her, he's wrong. She's in and out of the locker room in less than ten minutes. When she emerges, she tosses him a protein bar as they head down the corridor after Daniel and Teal'c.
"Guess I'm buying dinner then," he says, tearing open the wrapper and offering her half.
"Makes up for missing lunch," she shrugs and bites into her half. Her expression is light and welcoming, yet before Jack has a chance to go over details for their impromptu plans, Hammond ushers them into the briefing room.
The debriefing goes smoothly. After years of working together, his team knows how to debrief each other efficiently by pre-empting any questions the others might have. Even Daniel reigns in his ramblings, but his ankle makes it hard to stand for long so he doesn't have a choice.
"I believe we should reconvene until after we have run a detailed analysis on the device found in Honduras," Hammond announces to the room.
"I'll get to it right away, Sir," Sam replies, pushing her seat back. Jack knows she's just itching to get her hands on the doohickey he and Daniel forced Bill Lee to carry all the way home.
"It can wait till the morning, Major," Hammond tells her. She pauses, half-standing, half-sitting and glances at the general. "You and Doctor Jackson can start on it with fresh eyes, Major."
It's a half warning said with affection. She'd stay all night if she could. As would Daniel. Jack glances at the younger members of his team. They're both injured; nothing to hinder their brains, but Hammond is right, they need a night off after the separate missions despite their protests. Jack notes that Sam reigns it in better than Daniel does; she curbs the warning becoming an order by accepting it with a light flush and a nod. Daniel isn't as disciplined, but he's learnt to heed Hammond's instruction over the years. His hearing is more selective with Jack's instruction.
Hammond looks around the table, satisfied that the team will get some downtime tonight. "Dismissed, people. I expect to see you all in the morning."
A chorus of "Yes, Sir," rings out around the room before SG-1 rise from their seats while Jacob has a quiet word with Hammond and Bra'tac. Jacob might get clearance to leave the base, yet Jack doesn't think the brass will let Bra'tac out into the world even with SG-1 accompanying him. The train of thought leaves him wondering what Bra'tac would make of their world then he realises a trip to O'Malley's might end with more casualties than the outing he, Daniel and Sam made while wearing those damn armbands.
"Need a ride home, Daniel?" Jack asks the archaeologist as he hobbles down the stairs.
"No need, I'm going to stay on base tonight," Daniel replies.
"You heard the General," Jack warns him. Jack gets that he wants a head start, but they also need to rest when they can.
"I'm just reading, my books are here," Daniel argues, valiantly trying to keep the whine out of his tone.
"Don't stay up too late, you only get two bedtime stories," Jack chides, putting up his fingers to emphasise his point. "I don't expect to find you snoring under an open book in the morning."
Daniel shoots a glare at him, yet relents without argument. Jack smirks, addressing the rest of his team. "T?"
"I shall remain on base with Master Bra'tac and Daniel Jackson," Teal'c says to the unspoken invite. He knows the brass's line when it comes to leaving the base. Personally, Jack thinks Teal'c has more than earned the right to roam beyond the base perimeter without an escort.
"Fair enough, enjoy your slumber party, kids," Jack says as Jacob and Bra'tac join them. "You heading topside with us, Jacob?"
"The Tok'ra can spare Selmak and I for one night," the elder Carter replies.
After bidding good night to the other half of his team, Jack boards the elevator with Sam and Jacob after changing into civvies. Sam rests against the metal wall as she searches for her keys. Finding a set, she remembers that she rode her bike to work before their off-world stint. Jack didn't forget, he remembers watching her arrive in her leathers. She throws her dad an apologetic grimace. "I rode my bike in."
Jacob rolls his eyes with a good-natured sigh. Jack looks between father and daughter, quickly offering a solution to the problem.
"Well, unless Carter will let me take her bike for a spin and you take my truck," Jack cuts in and he swears Sam sends him the most insubordinate look she ever has. "Guess that's a no to riding the bike," Jack jokes. "You'll need a ride."
"Why don't you join us for dinner Jack?" Jacob offers in turn for Jack's offer of a lift home. "It'll be late by the time you drop us off and drive to your place," he argues at the indecisive expression on Jack's face.
He's swayed by the inviting smile that settles on Sam's face. "Sir?" She prompts happily, echoing her father's tone of gratitude.
There was a time when Jack could've been the asshole CO and refused the request; after the last few days, he probably should. Part of him wants to muster up that part of him tonight, a milder one which politely declines if for no other reason than refusing to interlope on their family time because they have don't have many opportunities. Yet it's the twin expressions, free from judgement or expectation, of acceptance and understanding, that makes him want to grab onto what they're offering him. If he goes with them, he can't torture himself over what Burke forced him to face over the last couple of days.
Jack pushes the impulse to be an asshole back down for the next time when he has to call forth that particular urge; preferably the next time Daniel decides it's a good idea to stride headlong into an off-world festival without finding out what the locals are celebrating.
Instead, he looks at his second in command and her father, simply answering, "Sure, sounds like a good time."
888
"You shouldn't be doing this, Sir," Sam argues for the third time since Jack commandeered clean up duty. It's not as though she can help. Her arm is still suspended by a sling, yet she's valiantly trying to carry things one-handed from the living area to the sink where Jack is elbow-deep in suds. She gives up to lean against the counter next to him, pouting at the sink. It's kind of adorable.
"You can do the dishes at my house after the next team night, Carter," Jack counters, bumping her shoulder with his. "Besides, I don't think three plates qualifies as dishes."
"Yes, sir." She humours him with a smile before looking over at her father as his laugh floats through the open patio doors. She watches Jacob for a moment, her expression becoming thoughtful. Mark Carter rang on the off chance about ten minutes ago. Jacob had answered and moved outside to speak with his son.
"They good?" Jack asks, breaking through her daydream.
"Yeah," she answers with a sigh. Jack stays silent, hoping she'll expand. She starts with a slight shake of her head. "They don't get as much time as Dad and I do and they had more to…" she sighs, searching for the right words. "Overcome than Dad and I did."
"Ah," Jack says. He wipes his hands on the towel Sam offers him and slings it over his shoulder. "You sure I wasn't third-wheeling on family time?"
"Not at all, Sir," comes her immediate reply. "Unless you had other plans for this evening?"
"Commiserating with a six-pack doesn't count as plans, Carter," he lets slip without thinking. Burke got to him in Honduras; Jack knows he would've spent the night fighting with ghosts if he'd gone home alone.
"Sir?" Sam enquires, her interest and concern piqued.
"Served with the CIA guide years ago," Jack finds himself admitting. Understanding shows in Sam's face, and Jack knows he doesn't need to elaborate. Duty won't allow her to ask for details and he won't divulge them. By choice or not, Black Op missions aren't fodder for good memories or good times and shouldn't be discussed openly. He doesn't want to burden her with his demons. She's helped fight them off for tonight; he won't be going home to brood in a haunted house. He bumps her shoulder to break the tension. "Besides, I got a better offer."
"Glad we could help," she murmurs, watching him for any sign he's lying.
He's not. Dinner had been good; better than good. They'd slipped easily into good conversation, free from the job. Jack called Jacob 'Dad' and Jacob asked about the cabin. Jack regaled him with stories of fish 'this' big while Sam coughed slightly when Jack invited Jacob along with him the next time he's home for more than a night or two. Ideally, Sam would tag along too…
"You did, Carter, more than you know."
"Good," she breathes out. Their eyes catch and hold and neither need to say anything else. The warmth in Jack's chest grows as he continues to watch her. This is usually the moment when they catch themselves and back off. "I'm really glad you came over tonight."
Jack notes the absence of the usual, obligatory honorific at the end of the soft confession, idly wondering how tonight would've gone without Jacob. If they were anyone else, under other circumstances, tonight would have been comparable to a night with the in-laws. "It was fun," he tells her.
"Yeah," she agrees softly.
If they were anyone else, under other circumstances, he'd try for a kiss. He's almost certain she'd return it. "You did a helluva job on that mission," Jack says instead. "Teal'c said the explosion was almost as good as blowing up that sun."
"You blow up one sun," she starts, flushing self-consciously before looking at him sideways. He raises an eyebrow at her tone and she changes tack, "Thank you, Sir."
Sam made all the right calls, completed and exceeded all objectives of the mission. Over the last year, Sam has been given more responsibility in the field by Jack and Hammond. Though they're confident in her abilities, they still have to go through the formalities of preparing her for her own command. It won't be long before she's offered a team of her own. Jack both fears and longs for that day. He doesn't say anything to Sam because he doesn't want to give a voice to hope, expectation or doubts.
"I should make a move. I have a couple of scientists and a doohickey to chaperone, no doubt they'll want an early start," he jokes, earning himself an eye roll.
"Yes, Sir," Sam flushes and catches his eyes again.
"Heading home, Jack?" Jacob asks, announcing his return to the house.
"Ugh, yeah," Jack says. He slips the tea towel off his shoulder, hanging it over the cupboard handle to dry out. "We got a lot of work to do tomorrow." Jacob appraises them before nodding. "Fair enough."
"How's Mark?" Sam asks.
Jacob glances at the phone in his hand with a slight smile. "He's good, he's, uh, bringing the kids up tomorrow if that's alright with you."
"Of course, it'll be good to see them," Sam smiles. "Are you going to be able to stay for that long?"
"Selmak insists. We'll help you and Daniel with Telchak's device tomorrow and report initial findings back to the Tok'ra. They want to oversee any weapon development, and as the liaison to Earth, we're tasked with it."
"So, you'll be sticking around for a while, Dad?" Jack asks.
"Popping in and out, for now," Jacob confirms. "George, Bra-tac and I discussed moving the device off-world to protect it."
Jack had considered the same thing. If Anubis targets them out of revenge for hitting his base, they need to minimise the risk to Telchak's device as it's their best option for defeating the Super Soldiers. "I better make a move."
"We'll see you in the morning."
"Bright and early, Dad," Jack quips. Jacob indulges him with a bob of his head as they shake hands.
Sam walks him to the door. "Good night, Sir," she says as she leans against the door jam.
"It was," Jack replies, lingering. She pulls her lips between her teeth, Jack's thoughts mirrored in her face. If they were anyone else, under other circumstances… Her resigned sigh is almost enough to keep Jack rooted to the spot. "Carter," Jack starts.
"I know," she admits, cutting him off. He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking. She shrugs. He doesn't need to say it. "I know like you know," she adds with meaning.
They both still care more than they're supposed to.
"Good night, Carter," Jack says, walking backwards toward his truck.
888
"It's nice to see you and Jack so relaxed," Jacob says when he hears Sam walk through the patio doors.
"Dad," Sam drawls, warning. There's more to her dad's tone than normal chit-chat. Not that they've ever discussed her relationship with Jack. If anything, she expected a conversation when they were first introduced at the medal ceremony five years ago.
He waves a hand at her to appease her. "There's no need to feed me a line about being a good CO and second." He pauses as her eyes snap to his and he tries a different way. "I trust you when you say nothing is going on."
Jacob looks out at the yard, gathering his thoughts. Sam swallows. She should be grateful for small mercies, she should feel relieved her father has let it drop, yet she can't when it's obvious he's got more to say, yet he's reluctant to voice it. She's curious though. She expected more fire from her father during a discussion of her relationship with her CO, not resignation.
She can't help prompting him, "But?"
"I like Jack, you know I do, Sam," Jacob explains with a sigh. He sighs again. "You do, too."
"Dad," she objects softly, ready to deny whatever observation he's about to make, to assert she cares about and respects Jack the same as any of her teammates. "We're not sleeping together."
Well.
All eloquence seems to have abandoned her. Being blunt is a skill she's honed for when the situation calls for it. She isn't sure this conversation is it. It might be, she just doesn't want it to be.
"I know that," her father answers her calmly, a hell of a lot calmer than she ever thought he would be capable of when discussing her love life. "This isn't about that…even if it was, Jack's a good man…you could do a lot worse."
She has, but Jacob doesn't need to be reminded of that. She looks down at her clasped hands and breathes out. It's not a refusal to hear him, yet he takes it as one.
"This isn't a conversation I want to have either, but someone has to say something," Jacob tells her without recrimination. "You may not like it, Sam, but I'm your father. I'm always going to worry about you," Jacob informs her kindly. He doesn't stop there; he's got more to say. "I trust Jack. You care about each other. He'd never hurt you, never risk your career." He pauses, scowls out at the dark garden. "You're stubborn, the pair of you. I think you'd make each other very happy if you could," he sounds tired, resigned. "It's something worth waiting for. I'd be happy for you. My only worry is you're waiting for something that may never happen."
Sam looks away, not ready to deal with her father's blatant honesty.
"I'm old, Sammy," Jacob sighs. "I want to know what happens next, what you do after the Goa'uld are defeated." He gives her a quick once-over. "You think this ends there? You think you'll move onto another assignment? You and Jack are too important to let walk away from the fallout; it's too important to you to walk away from."
Sam doesn't have an answer for him. She and Jack have never spoken of the someday they both wish for. He's spouted off about retirement in the past, but, if they survive this war, the Airforce could have other plans for them; organising support for those left vulnerable after the Goa'uld are gone, possible reassignment, promotions. Her father's right. This war won't end when the Goa'uld are defeated. Recovery will take years.
"Are you happy, Sam? Or waiting to be?"