Alternatives

Carter's Side

Based upon Stargate: SG-1

Rating: PG

- RMI - Based on the Season 4 episode: "Divide and Conquer"; takes place during and immediately following said episode -

Special dedication - ispksarcasm, for the "Divide and Conquer" request

- . - - - . -

Jack had learned to sleep on one side of the bed when he was married. Even now, years later, he still was in the habit of sleeping on one side, leaving the other side cold and empty. Right after he and Sara split, he would look at the empty space and wonder if it would ever be filled again. He doubted it, then.

Here he was, on the right side of his bed on base. He looked at the left side, Carter's Side, of the bed.

He didn't know exactly when he started calling the empty side of his bed 'Carter's Side.' It was a while ago. Before they went back in time, he thought. Maybe not, maybe it was after. It was definitely before they were picked up by Hathor. He was sure of that because he remembered thinking -- after they told him they were all dead -- Carter's Side was always going to be cold. There was no chance of her ever actually taking her spot.

When he found her lying on that bed, covered in that really thin sheet, a wave of relief had passed through him. Carter's Side was still Carter's Side. And there was a chance that Carter's Side would actually become Carter's Side.

It didn't matter where he was sleeping, what bed he was in, the empty side was always Carter's Side.

He noticed when he went to see her earlier that she was sitting on the right side of the bed, his side. Now, sitting in his own bed he was seriously considering switching sides. Apparently, the right side was Carter's Side, which meant his side should be the left side. But that was just ridiculous.

It wasn't really Carter's Side, he knew that, it never would be. That was why he was still on the right side -- his side-- looking over at "Carter's Side."

He hoped that they would both survive this so that Carter's Side could actually become Carter's Side.

- . - . -

"You are not a za'tarc."

"Thank you," Sam exhaled with slight annoyance.

O'Neill rushed over to her and tore of her arm restraints, allowing her to remove the band at her forehead and stand up.

"I think we need to talk about this," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think we do."

She looked past him at Anise, and nodded. "Later."

He offered a small smile. "Later."

- . - . -

Jack lay in his bed, his bed at home, staring at Carter's Side. She had sent him an e-mail today after everything had cooled down. She had shot and killed Martouf, which was pretty awful. The summit went well; other than he almost got his brain fried and Martouf was killed because he had been brainwashed.

She said that she wanted to talk about things, but she needed a day or so. So, she suggested a time and place and he replied with a simple affirmative "See you then" and gave her her space.

Even now, he was hugging his side of the bed a little more, making Carter's Side as large as possible. He knew it was ridiculous, but it was Carter's Side and she needed her space.

- . - . -

Sam sat at a table in a coffee shop. She was early. They said they were going to meet at 1, but she was early. She got there around 12.30 and it was the longest half hour of her life.

Then, to make things worse, O'Neill was late. To be fair, it was only 1.02. But, still . . . Of all the things to be late for . . . He chose the meeting that they were going to decide what they were going to do about their relationship, or lack there of.

She hadn't been drinking the drink in front of her, just so it would look like she had just gotten there. It was cold now. She looked back at the door as she heard it open and felt suddenly relived and terrified at the same time.

He walked over to her and sat down on the other side of the table.

"Hi," she said.

"I saw your car outside . . . I just had to decide to come in," he answered.

"When did you get here?"

He shrugged. "Twenty minutes ago."

Well, at least he was just as nervous as she was."So . . ."

He nodded. "So . . ."

She released a nervous laugh.

Boldly, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "I am not going to ask you to resign, and don't offer, because I won't let you. You are too important to this program and that brain of yours is the only thing driving that whole mountain forward."

"Listen, Sir - Jack, no one is going to let you resign either. They pulled you out of retirement for this and as much as you hate to admit it you are important to the program."

"Any ideas?"

She smiled nervously and shook her head. "For once . . . No." She drummed her fingers, and dropped her eyes. "I mean -- what can we do?"

"Nothing."

Her gaze shot up, "Nothing?" she repeated. "I don't know if I can do nothing."

"I'm not saying that we leave what we said in the room. I'm just saying that we don't do anything that . . ." he trailed off.

"That could be construed as unprofessional?"

He nodded. "Exactly."

"What's the difference between that and what we've been doing?"

He offered her a smile. "We're not ignoring anything anymore."

- . - . -

"Hey," a voice derailed her train of thought. She looked up and saw Jack O'Neill leaning in through her doorway.

She smiled back. "Hey."

"What's going on?" he asked, walking in and taking his usual position on the other side of her desk.

"Oh, you know, science stuff."

"Ah," he scanned her desk for something he could pick up. "The best kind of stuff." He found a remote mouse for the projector in the briefing room and started fiddling with it.

She suppressed a smile before he looked back up at her. He made a conscious effort to not break anything important. Ever since . . . Well, ever since recently.

She watched him smile at her for a few long seconds.

"You don't have to stop working just because I'm here."

"It's a little hard to focus when you're standing right there."

He set down her remote and took a step back. "How about here?"

She laughed and shook her head.

He took a few steps towards the door. "Here?"

"Goodbye, Sir," she said, turning back to her computer.

"Here?" he asked again.

She looked up to see his head peaking around her corner. She laughed. "Goodbye, Sir," she repeated a little louder.

His head disappeared and her tried to remember where she had been when he interrupted her.

"HERE?!" she heard him shout from the hallway.

She shook her head, a small laugh escaping, and once again tried to return to her work.

He did that more often, she noticed: came and bothered her at random times for no reason. It was always a nice little distraction during the day. It was one of the reasons she lo--one of the reasons she felt about him the way she felt about him.

- . - . -

Lieutenant Graves was getting his things out of his locker when he started overhearing two Airmen.

"Have you seen O'Neill and Carter recently?" Airman Farris asked.

Airman Lyons nodded. "Yeah. They have gotten a little familiar, don't you think?"

Farris nodded. "I wish I was that familiar with Major Carter," he smile and Lyons chuckled. "But seriously, do you think they're sleeping together?"

Lyons shook his head slowly. "I have no idea. I mean, they're not stupid, but . . . This kind of stuff actually happens. I was reading something in the Air Force Times about the list of officers fired this year for fraternization. You'd be shocked to see how many people were on that list."

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Graves walked over.

"Good morning, Sir," Farris and Lyons said together.

"I overheard a bit of your conversation and I would like to set the record straight."

Neither Farris or Lyons said anything.

"Neither Colonel O'Neill or Major Carter are acting inappropriately. However, if you ever do suspect anything, you should report it up your chain of command. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," they replied.

"Carry on." Graves turned away as they responded again. He didn't know if O'Neill and Carter were doing anything inappropriate or not, but people were gossiping. He had to report it up his chain of command. He had to go find Colonel Reynolds.

- . - . -

Daniel watched Sam and Jack walk into the Commissary, go through the line, and then take a table in the corner. He was perplexed for a few minutes. How could have they not have seen him? He ate slowly as he watched them.

Colonel Dixon sat down next to him before Daniel even noticed he was there. "Sittin' by yourself, Jackson?"

"They didn't sit with me," he said slowly. Then, almost as if breaking out of a trance, he turned to the Colonel. "That sounded like I was a twelve year old girl, didn't it?"

Dixon laughed. "I wasn't going to mention it." He took a bite of his lunch and joined Daniel in watching Sam and Jack. "Have you noticed something different about those two?"

Daniel nodded. "I have."

"You don't think they're sleeping together, do you?"

"What?! No!" Daniel spat, perhaps a little too quickly. "No," he repeated. "I would know, if they were." He noticed his voice had started to trail off a little, and realized that he couldn't really be sure about it.

Dixon regarded him carefully, also entertaining the thought that they were actually sleeping together. "But they are acting different."

"It's almost like they're married," Daniel said, immediately regretting the implication, "except for, you know, the sleeping together."

Dixon snorted. "Sounds like a marriage to me."

Daniel tried to ignore Dixon and finish his meal without seriously considering that Sam and Jack were making the biggest mistake of their lives. He shook his head subconsciously. They wouldn't be sleeping together. They couldn't be sleeping together. They wouldn't ruin their careers like that. They just wouldn't.

Daniel watched Sam tip her head back and laugh at something Jack said.

Or would they?

- . - . -

"Jack, you got a minute?" Reynolds stopped him from leaving the briefing room; leaving the two of them alone. Reynolds looked around, almost paranoid that there were still people around.

"What's up, Reynolds?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What?"

"Carter."

"Carter? What about her?"

Reynolds forced a laugh. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Hey, no body's breaking any rules."

"The rules don't start applying when someone's boots under someone else's bed!"

Jack stared in silence, unsure of how to respond to Reynolds.

The Marine took a deep breath and looked around, gathering his thoughts. "It doesn't really matter if you're breaking the rules. What matters is perception. And the perception is that you and Carter are . . . are doing something that you shouldn't."

"What do you think?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"What do you think?" Jack repeated, a little slower and more emphatically.

Reynolds sighed. "I know there's nothing inappropriate going on, and -- really -- I think everyone else knows that, too, but . . . Come on, Jack, you have to know what's going on here."

He shrugged, his hands shoved in his pockets. "No, you're right. You're right, they taught us about this when we were Cadets. I'll -- We'll talk about it."

- . - . -

"They're right," Jack said walking into Carter's lab.

She looked up from her computer. "What?"

"They're right," he repeated, leaning on the other side of her desk.

"Who is?"

"They are, about us."

"Oh," she closed her computer and folded her hands in front of her uncomfortably.

"So whatever is going on right now needs to change."

"I can't go back to pretending."

Jack shook his head. "We shouldn't have to."

"But --"

"I know about the rules. I've read the damn book backwards and forwards."

"So, what now?"

"You'll think of something, Carter." He smirked. "You're brilliant."

- . - . -

Jack lay on his back with a little smile on his face. By all rights, he shouldn't be smiling. His job now officially sucked. They called it a promotion but it wasn't; not really. They "promoted" him off of SG-1 to Operations -- which meant paperwork, a lot of paperwork.

Carter was off SG-1, too. She was given a post as the liaison between the SGC and Area 51. So, she was happy, generally. Basically, she got to tear apart everything brought back and send it on to Area 51 whenever she was done with it. She also supervised the application of anything Area 51 came up with. She didn't get to carry a gun on a regular basis, but it was a give-and-take as far as she was concerned.

He turned his head to the left, towards Carter's Side and smiled at the sleeping form. It really was Carter's Side now. She was curled up on her side away from him.

She didn't work for him, not anymore.

Jack just watched her for a few minutes, still amazed that she was sleeping in her spot in his bed on a regular basis. It really was her spot now. He turned and sidled up next to her, wrapping his arms around her.

She stirred, his motion disturbing her sleep. "Jack?" she mumbled, reaching back and fingering his hair.

He kissed her shoulder. "Nothin', go back to sleep." He tucked his head down and closed his eyes.

She gripped his hand and seemingly fell back asleep.

He hated his new job. But, his new job -- along with anything and everything they could or would throw at him -- was completely worth having Carter's Side actually be Carter's Side.

There he was, laying with his arms around Samantha Carter on her side of his bed.

Yeah. Completely worth it.

- . - - - . -