A/N: Okay, here's part two. Thank to you who have taken the time to read and even more so to those who let me know what they thought. This one is set in season 3 episode Point Of View. I've noticed that while there are many fics concentrating on the events right after this episode (the kiss), only a few that are actually set during the ep. So, here you go.

Minor language in this one, so consider yourselves warned :)

Second Time

The second time was in many ways even stranger than the first. Oh, he did remember it, but… He wasn't even sure if it could be counted.

*

He could do it. It was good news, after all, and he had volunteered to deliver it. Only… It didn't seem as good an idea as it had ten minutes before in General Hammond's office.

Oh, please, you're a grown man, for cryin' out loud! You haven't been this freaked out about talking to a woman since… Well, for a long time, anyway.

He raised his hand and knocked on the door. When there was no response, he opened it and hesitantly hovered, his body only halfway into the room.

It was dark and he could barely make out Carter's- Doctor Carter's form lying on the far side of the bed with her back to him.

There was a quiet sniff.

"Just put it on the table and close the door on your way out," she said in a quite trembling voice.

Jack froze. Maybe this really wasn't such a good idea. He knew he should let her know he wasn't whoever it was she'd been expecting. "I'm sorry? Put what on the table?"

She jumped up. "Jack!" She hastily rubbed her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry! Come in. Your… Your Doctor Fraiser keeps insisting that I eat something," she added quickly, avoiding his eyes.

"Well, she's your Doc Fraiser now, too."

She stared at him, bemused.

"You're in. They said yes," Jack explained, grateful that at least there was something, anything, to talk about.

She nodded in understanding. "That's good," she said with a faint smile, turning his back to him again.

This was becoming awkward.

"Yeah. I can see you're overjoyed," Jack tried to lighten the mood. Carter, his Carter, was usually one to at least pretend his sarcastic remarks were funny.

She shook her head and stared at her hands. "I just never expected this. It's…" She sucked in a deep breath and added quietly. "It's so hard."

"Uh…" Jack knew he should say something, but he was at a loss here. He didn't do emotions. But she looked so desperate, so lost. He had to at least try. He took a few steps towards her. "Look, I can't even begin to know what you've been through." Okay, O'Neill, that wasn't so bad, keep going. "I… I know you've lost a lot."

"I lost you."

Her blue eyes locked his and he could see tears that were beginning to fill them. "I watched you die, Jack. Three days ago, trying to defend the mountain," her head dropped down again, she took a few moments to regain composure.

Jack just stood there, clueless as to what to do or say. He definitely hadn't been ready for this. Carter would never talk to him like this, so openly, without the barriers that were military protocol. For the first time, it made him wonder whether being in the military had really made this much of a difference. Or was it just a side of her that she'd never allowed her CO to see?

She spoke up again in a shaky, unsteady voice. "And here you are," she made a vague gesture upwards and continued almost bitterly. "Alive and safe in this prefect world. And you don't even know me."

Did he? He'd thought so, but…Now he really wasn't sure. Jack sat down next to her on the bed. "Well, I… I sorta' know you…"

She shook her head in exasperation. "You know her," her tone made it an accusation."You don't even see her that way, do you?" her eyes wandered to the nightstand.

He followed her gaze. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. There, propped against a table lamp, was a worn photo of himself and Carter. Well, their alternate selves, but somehow that didn't make it any easier. She was wearing a simple white dress and he was in his dress blues, his arms were wrapped around her in a possessive hug and both their eyes shone with happiness and contentment, their faces mirroring each other's affectionate smile.

Oh, crap.

Jack tore his eyes away from the picture and looked back at Sam. Her gaze, too, was fixed on the picture.

"I take it, where you're from, we were, uh…"he waved his hand vaguely, reluctant to actually say the word.

She finished for him. "Married."

"Ah." Yep, definitely awkward. He refused to meet her eyes. Instead, Jack's gaze was flickering around the room, desperately searching for anything to focus his mind on. Unwittingly, he shoved his hands into his pockets, probably with a little more force than necessary.

"This makes you uncomfortable," she observed.

Ya think?

"No, no… Not at all," he lied poorly, knowing that she was well aware of it. "I just... I get confused."

A knock on the door. Well, how's that for timing? The door opened and a female voice said: "Ma'am?"

There was a pause, Jack looked back at the door. He saw the shape of a female SF carrying a tray with food.

"Sorry, Colonel. I… I didn't realize," she apologized.

"Just put it on the table, Airman."

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"And close the door on your way out."

The SF laid the tray carefully on the dining table and quickly made her way out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Another moment of uncomfortable silence. Finally, she sighed. "I haven't had a hot meal in… forever," she finished, getting up and heading for the food.

Jack followed her movement with his eyes and watched as she lifted the pot lid and sniffed the food on the plate. She looked back at him.

"It was a couple of weeks ago," she started. "We were celebrating our first anniversary when we got the call that the Goa'uld ships had been spotted entering our solar system," she took a deep breath. "We just left everything."

Even from where he sat he could see that her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "You blew out the candles and I turned off the oven and we just left."

She was struggling for composure, Jack could tell. He wished he could help, but he just didn't know how. Frankly, he didn't even think he was able to.

"They didn't hit Colorado Springs from orbit like most of the big cities… The table must still be set," she trailed off. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes and mind in a different world.

Jack tried hopelessly to think of something, anything, to say. "Cold by now."

She chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah."

Isn't it amazing how silence can sometimes shout louder than a rolling F-16? Jack saw a lonely tear roll down her cheek. He figured now would be a good time to make a strategic retreat and got up.

"Listen, um…" Great, 'cause stammering will make this so much more comfortable. "I should probably be…" he made a vague gesture towards the door.

"Stay!"she stepped into his way and her pleading eyes met his. He looked away.

Why? Why was she doing this to him? Why was she doing this to herself?

"Sam…"

She didn't back away. "Please."

"Look…" Yeah, a good start. "You're dealing with a loss right now that I can't even begin to…" Okay, not the right way. He could imagine it. All too well. And he wasn't helping either of them. "What I mean is… Maybe I'm not the right person to help you."

He couldn't make it any clearer, could he? He didn't know what to do, had no idea how to help this woman who was a stranger and yet she wasn't. How could he help her when he couldn't help himself?

"Yes! Yes you are!" this time, the certainty in her voice made him look directly in her eyes."You're the only one who can!" her gaze never left his.

He stood still. There was no doubt in her eyes. How could this woman trust him so much? Him of all people? The man who had almost eaten a bullet when his son died. How was it possible that this brilliant, beautiful young woman had so much faith in him when he didn't?

She stood only about a foot away from him. "Look. I know you well enough to know you don't have a clue what to say." Her eyes were warm, tears threatening to fall. "But you don't have to say anything," she dipped her head.

Suddenly, she seemed so fragile, vulnerable. So un-Carter-like. She needed her Jack O'Neill, not him. He knew he wasn't right for her, yet he felt he needed to help her. For her sake as much as for his own. She wasn't his Sam, there was no such thing as his Sam. But he had to do something.

He opened his arms to her. "C'mere."

As she clung to him gratefully, a quiet sob escaped her lips. And then another one. And another.

"Oh, I miss him…" she whispered against his shoulder, tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

He didn't say anything, just pulled her closer to him, his hand rising hesitantly to stroke he hair. He didn't know how long they stood there like this, only that when her knees became too weak to support her shaking body, he somehow managed to maneuver them to the bed.

He sat there, holding her in his arms with her body sprawled across his lap, her head resting on his shoulder, now damp with her tears. He was rocking her soothingly, his hand still gently stroking her head.

After some time, her tears dried out, the sobs became fainter and fainter and her body grew limp.

Jack continued to hold her a little longer and then he slowly and gently laid her body onto the bed. He carefully eased himself out of her embrace and gently untangled her fingers that were still clutching at his BDU shirt.

Jack stood up slowly and made his way quietly to the door. Just before opening it, he stopped and turned around, allowing himself one last look at the sleeping woman. Her face still bore the traces of dry tears, but it was relaxed and calm. She did look much more like his Sam Carter now. She stirred and rolled onto her side, turning her back to the door and to him. A faint smile ran across his features.

"Good night, Sam," he whispered.

And with that he walked out.

Thanks for reading, let me know what you think :-)