Part Nine: Deprivation

There are times when a battle decides everything, and there are times when the most insignificant thing can decide the outcome of a battle.
~Napoleon Bonaparte

The tension in the room didn't exactly decrease with Sara's exit. Luckily, if baby Aimee felt the stress radiating through Jack's arms, she was too tired to complain – she slept soundly. He knew he should put her down, but somehow his ties to her got more tenuous each day, and he just couldn't bring himself to let her go.

When Daniel and Teal'c perched on the furniture and stared expectantly at him, there was only one thing he could say.

"Shit."

Silence reigned for an interminable stretch, all three uncomfortably on the edge of their chairs.

"Major Carter is a strong warrior," Teal'c said finally.

"That's the problem, Teal'c," Daniel answered. "That's all she knows. And we can give bottles and change diapers and dote on them all day, but we can't… guide her on how to be a mother. I don't know how."

"None of us do." Neither man missed the way Jack's forehead wrinkled and his face turned ever so slightly into the baby in his arms. And with nothing else helpful to say, the room went quiet again.

Until Sara O'Neill came charging back down the steps, anyway. She didn't slow her pace, didn't even look at them, just snapped, "Jonathan!" and continued toward the kitchen.

That, of course, only upped the ante on the tension, and Daniel let out a low whistle. Never had he heard someone speak to Jack in that tone – ever. Not a general, or even a psychotic alien… no one.

It occurred to the younger man, as Jack wordlessly pushed himself off the couch and handed off the baby, that Sara could teach him a million new and interesting ways to push Jack O'Neill's buttons. But since Sara and Sam were probably the only two people in the world that Jack wouldn't punch, it probably wasn't a good idea.

Even Jack wasn't fully prepared for what was coming. He'd taken Sara's dress-downs before, but this wasn't about them – it was about Carter. And while he knew that, in Sara's mind, anyway, this was all his fault, he wasn't sure why. Yet.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed softly.

"Apparently making things worse," he shot back. When her angry stare didn't relent, though, his false bravado shattered. "I don't know what to do."

She sighed, the tension draining from her shoulders, as well. "Yes, you do," she insisted softly, "and I just don't know why you won't do it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you? Jack, I know you guys want the best for her. I've seen it. I've watched you all try to help her, but the reality is that she needs more than your friendship. Friendship fades. Things change. People get reassigned. She needs a commitment, Jack."

He shook his head as the reality of her words sank in. "She's my second, Sara."

"No, she isn't. She's a woman," Sara pressed, "with a baby. And she is terrified."

"But we don't…" He sighed. "We're not like that."

"Then you're deluding yourself. Which shouldn't surprise me," she added, "because you're good at that. But Jack… you can't hide from me. I've seen the way you look at her, and I know that look. Because you used to look at me that way."

He had forgotten how well this woman knew him, despite the secrets and the Special Ops. And how she was so completely unafraid to talk about the deep, dark things they shared – to a fault, as far as he was concerned. It had driven them apart.

And yet, that same courage had been brought back out for Sam… at his request. He supposed, if his ex-wife could suck it up after all that, he oughta step up.

"I always thought… she deserved so much more than this," he said softly.

"You and I know better than anyone that life doesn't always go how you plan it. Sometimes you just have to make the best out of what you're given."

"That," he said pointedly, "I really suck at." He was far better at turning bad situations into tragic ones. The breakup of their marriage after their son's death was just one shining example.

"I know. But I have faith in you, even if you don't. Now," she announced, loudly enough for the men in the living room to hear, "I was promised dinner."

Daniel's voice echoed back. "Hear, hear!"