Author's note: I forgot about cross-posting to for a while! This is a story I just started, but there's a short season 9 set fic I also need to add. Plus, if you're interested, I have two E-rated fics over on AO3 (one is a post-ep for Jolinar's Memories/Devil You Know and the other is a post-ep for Abyss).

I don't really like Fragile Balance as an episode, but the ending especially bothers me. This story is my attempt to address that and give clone!Jack a better ending, but also deal with the emotional repercussions along the way. It's set in season 9 and Sam and Jack are already together.

"Carter?"

Sam stopped when she heard her name, something about the voice catching her attention even though she didn't recognize it. She was running late to meet Jack for lunch, but she turned and saw a slim figure leaning against an innocuous Washington D.C. office building, partially hidden in the shadows.

She stepped closer and it only took her a split second to recognize him.

"Jack?" she whispered, shock stripping her voice of its normal volume and confidence.

Two years older than the last time she saw him, this replica of Jack O'Neill was starting to look more like the man she knew. Her eyes traced the familiar curve of his jaw and lines of his face. He'd gone through a growth spurt and was around her height now.

Then he stepped out of the shadows and she frowned.

The last time she'd seen Jack's clone, he looked like a healthy, cute kid. Or at least he had once Thor fixed the issues with his DNA. This time he looked worn down and sallow. He'd grown his hair out a little and it was a shaggy mess, hanging into his eyes.

"Fancy meetin' you here."

She recognized that slightly sardonic tone, but it had been a while since any version of him directed that at her.

He lifted a cigarette to his lips and turned his head to blow out a slow line of smoke.

Sam felt her brain stutter and come to a halting stop. She knew that Jack–her Jack–was a former smoker, but it had been a decade since he quit and to see that habit in a version of him this young was disconcerting.

"What are you doing here?" The question spilled out of her, uncontrolled, and she immediately regretted the accusatory tone that came out of her mouth.

"Last I checked, this was a free country," he replied. "Even those of us not in the Air Force are allowed to visit D.C."

Sam took a moment to collect herself before she replied.

"I didn't mean it like that. I was just…I'm surprised to see you. I was curious why you're in town."

He couldn't be here to see her. Although she visited D.C. frequently these days, she didn't live here. Sam also doubted that he was here to see his older counterpart.

So why was he here?

She felt his familiar brown eyes moving across her face, trying to read her, and for a brief moment she forgot that the youthful Jack in front of her wasn't the one she was supposed to meet for lunch. Those eyes were the same.

Then he took a long, slow drag of his cigarette and the illusion of familiarity shattered.

"Senior class trip to our nation's fair capital," he finally replied, voice dripping with condescension. "Just the latest chapter in my ongoing nightmare of being forced to attend high school for a second time."

Sam didn't know what to say and immediately felt guilty for not thinking more about what happened to this Jack. Her Jack–Colonel O'Neill at the time–convinced them all that his clone was just happy to be alive and have a second chance.

Now Sam wondered if he'd been lying to himself or to all of them.

Going through high school again would have been difficult for her and she'd always loved the classroom. For Jack, who struggled with boredom when sitting in one place for too long, it must be a low level form of torture.

"So what are you doing here in your old stomping grounds…" His voice trailed off as his eyes slid across her dress uniform. "Lieutenant Colonel? Congrats, Carter. That's great."

She smiled. "Thanks. I got promoted at the same time General O'Neill was put in charge of the SGC."

It would be easier to refer to Jack by rank right now if for no other reason than to avoid the awkward distinction between using you and he when both men shared most of the same memories.

How much of a difference did two years make, she wondered. Things had changed drastically in her life recently, but she had no idea if the Jack in front of her felt like his own person now or if he still felt like the same Jack O'Neill who walked through the Stargate with her for years.

"General O'Neill?" Jack scoffed. "Who did I piss off to get that job?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Most people see a promotion as a good thing."

Most people except Jack O'Neill, apparently. Both versions.

She still remembered how hesitant her Jack had been to be in charge of the SGC and then move over to Homeworld Security.

The Jack in front of her shrugged.

"I guess it's good to know that his life sucks too."

Jack brought the cigarette to his lips again and Sam wished that she could hug him because he seemed so sad. Her Jack, in spite of the fact that he was often frustrated by the politics of his job, was doing well.

"There are aspects of General O'Neill's job that are difficult, but overall I think he's happy."

She didn't say that to rub it in, but rather to remind the man in front of her that happiness was possible.

"Maybe he just wants you to think he's happy," Jack said. "You always saw exactly what you wanted to see, Carter."

Before she could ask him exactly what he meant by that, her phone rang. Sam apologized and explained it would just take a minute before answering the call.

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized preemptively.

Jack's answering chuckle drifted over the phone line.

"Which part are you sorry about, Carter? The fact that you sent over an extremely thick report of scientific gobbledygook this morning that I have to read or that I'm currently alone at the restaurant."

Sam winced and then noticed the younger O'Neill's eyes on her. She turned her back towards him so she could at least pretend to have a little privacy on this call.

"Mostly the being late to lunch thing."

Sam looked over her shoulder to see that the clone was still smoking like a chimney as he observed her. He met her eyes and she could see curiosity flicker across his expression before he looked away.

She felt an odd sense of anxiety creep over her. There was no rule book for how to handle running into the clone of the man you loved.

Sam refocused her attention on the phone call.

"Something came up," she apologized to the Jack on the other end of the line. "I think I need to cancel."

"Sam." He said her name with an annoyed groan. "Did something explode that I need to know about? Is the world ending? Because otherwise I don't see why you need to skip one of the very few meals we've been able to schedule together during your trip here. It was a pain in the ass for my assistant to block off these two hours in my calendar."

Sam let out a sigh. She'd really been looking forward to spending time with him too. A handful of evenings here and there weren't enough when they lived across the country from each other. It wasn't the type of newlywed life she'd ever imagined for herself, but they had to take the loophole they were given.

Cutting their time together short while she was in D.C. wasn't something she'd do under normal circumstances.

These weren't normal circumstances.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling guilty for bailing on their lunch date.

"You know this ruins my plans."

"For lunch?"

"I figured if we ate fast, we could head back home for dessert."

His voice dropped suggestively low at the end of the sentence and she blushed.

"Oh."

She looked back over her shoulder where her husband's clone was waiting.

This was horrible timing.

"I really, really would love that, trust me, but I can't. Something's come up."

There was a long enough silence that she hoped he hadn't hung up on her.

"Are you absolutely sure that nothing has exploded?" Jack asked.

Sam let out a relieved laugh. "Yes, I'm sure."

"And there's no government conspiracy afoot?" he continued. "You're not kidnapped and about to be held for ransom or anything?"

Her laugh turned into a giggle. "No, I'm fine. I just ran into an old friend. I'll tell you about it later."

She couldn't explain this odd coincidence over the phone. Sam considered dropping some hints and seeing if Jack wanted to join them, but she didn't think having two Jack O'Neills at the same table would be conducive for open conversation.

As much as she regretted not meeting up with him for lunch and sex, she couldn't walk away from the Jack beside her who was practically radiating a defensive sort of loneliness.

"You're way too popular, Carter." Jack's teasing voice soothed her through the phone. He sounded relaxed and comforting, even though he was well within his rights to be mad at her for canceling on him.

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Looking forward to that," he said.

A shiver went down her spine at expectation in his tone. She knew he was leaning back in his chair at the restaurant right now, a tilted smile on his face as he imagined how they'd spend the evening.

"Me too," she whispered.

"Love you," he replied. "Even if you do mess up perfectly good plans for an exciting lunchtime quickie and–"

"Love you too," she interrupted with a laugh. "I'll see you tonight."

They hung up and Sam turned back around to see that the younger Jack had disposed of the first cigarette and lit up a second.

"You shouldn't smoke."

It wasn't her place to tell him what to do, but it slipped out.

"What? Worried it'll stunt my growth?" Jack took another drag of the cigarette. "Didn't seem to make much difference the first time around."

"I'm guessing you didn't chain smoke as a kid the first time around. You should take better care of yourself."

Jack flicked the ashes onto the sidewalk and there was a hard set to his jaw before he spoke.

"What do you care, Carter? You're just going to go back to your perfect life and I'll be stuck in limbo. We'll probably never see each other again after this."

Once again, a massive wave of guilt swept over her.

Seeing Jack's clone in front of her now, she wondered how it had been so easy for all of them to let him go out into the world alone without ever checking up on him.

"Do you want to get lunch?" she asked. "Catch up?"

He took another drag of his cigarette and his voice vibrated with barely contained frustration when he replied.

"I don't need a pity lunch, Carter. You were on your way in a hurry. It's okay."

"It's not a pity lunch," she hurried to reassure him. "And I canceled my plans. I'd like to spend time with you."

His expression was unyielding.

"How does your boyfriend feel about that?"

"I…" It would make things easier to avoid any discussion of her relationship status, but he must've overheard her saying goodbye. He heard her declare her love for the person on the other end of the line. "He'd completely understand."

Jack would understand better than anyone why she needed to blow him off to help this lost version of himself.

"Sure he will," he said sarcastically. "Just let him know you ran into the cheap knockoff of your former CO and he won't have any questions."

She couldn't stand to hear Jack call himself a cheap knockoff so against her better judgment, Sam reached out and pulled him into a hug. He made a muffled noise of surprise and dropped the cigarette he was holding to the sidewalk, but after a moment she felt his arms cautiously wrap around her. He buried his face into the curve of her neck. The angle wasn't exactly what she was used to–he wasn't as tall as the original yet–but this Jack still hugged the same.

She could've done without the lingering smell of smoke, though.

Jack hugged her a little tighter than normal and Sam wondered if it was because he didn't want to let her go.

"You're not a cheap knockoff," she whispered. "And I'm sorry you're having a hard time."

Jack pulled back and stepped away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm fine. The other me called dibs on my life and that's just the way it goes."

Sam winced.

"He didn't call dibs. It's just that he's the–"

"The real Jack O'Neill," he interrupted. "Believe me, I know. Kinda sucks to have all the same memories but then be told that you're not 'you' enough to live your own life."

"I'm sorry."

"It is what it is."

The Jack O'Neill standing in front of her might not be able to have the life he wanted to be living, but he deserved something better than a life that made him look this downtrodden.

"Please have lunch with me," she begged.

Maybe if they talked and she learned more about his life, she could figure out a way to help him.

Jack's jaw was clenched and his spine straight. Sam could see the tension running through him and she knew he was going to say no. He was going to walk away and then she'd never see him again.

"It's not a good idea. I shouldn't even have called your name. Plus, I've got to meet back up with the rest of the class."

It was an excuse. The Jack she knew wouldn't care about meeting up with his high school classmates. He'd already been wandering the city alone. For some reason, he was afraid to spend more time with her.

"Please," she repeated.

After a moment's hesitation, Jack's body relaxed and she knew he changed his mind.

"Fine. Buy me a beer and I'm all yours for the next hour, Carter."