The Next Day
Jack senses someone standing in the doorway of his office. Whoever it was very quiet, but Jack is black-ops, and he can tell.
He turns to her, "How did you know I'd be here?"
"It was clever, Jack. Telling people you didn't know where your office was, returning memos with a "return to sender". Turning your lights off and hiding under your desk whenever your black ops training alerted you someone was looking for you."
"But not clever enough," Jack says.
"Well, I am a genius," Sam says with a shrug of her shoulders.
There is silence for long moment, "I'm sorry about Charlie, Jack."
Jack doesn't say anything, just shakes his head.
"I know it must have killed you… to tell Teal'c what to do… to shut it off," she says softly.
"I killed my best friend," he says with tears running down his face.
"Jack, he told you… he didn't want to live as a Goa'uld," Sam says.
"Maybe, with more time we would have figured out a way to save him," Jack says.
"We tried everything, and he was going to get away. There is no telling what kind of suffering Charlie would have gone through… What kind of suffering he would have caused if you hadn't done it," Sam says, touching his arm.
"No, I gave up on him, and you never give up on anyone, Sam."
She pulls him into a hug, and cries right along with him for a while.
"Sam, next time it could be you, and… I couldn't do that to you," he whispers.
"It could just as easily be you," she says, with terror lurking beneath her eyes.
"I have to pick up my mom from the airport," he says standing up.
"We could get an airman to do it," she offers, standing up right after him.
"No, I'd better. Besides, I'm going to have to put on a happy face for Ty anyway, what does it matter if I start an hour earlier?"
"I find myself glad I never introduced Tyler to Charlie," Sam says with a sad smile.
"He would have loved that kid, you know. I didn't even tell him yet," Jack says sadly.
This surprises Sam. She knows that Jack is a very private person, but she thought that he would have told people by now.
He sees the thoughts on her face, "I'm not ashamed of our son, Sam. I've told people: Daniel, Teal'c, my family. I just… haven't seen much of Charlie lately."
"I stole you from him again," she smiles, remembering the first days of their romance overseas.
"I'll see you at home in an hour," Jack says.
And Sam pauses in awe. When did Jack start thinking of her house as 'home'?
-0-0-0-
"Hey, bean sprout," a stout woman swings Tyler up into her arms for a bear hug.
"I can't breathe, and you're crushing my lungs, Grandma!" Tyler protests.
"Wow! Sorry there, Snookums," she says, loosening her grip.
"My name is Ty," he informs her pulling back from the hug.
"She knows your name, Bud," Jacks says, walking into the house behind his mother, carrying two large coolers, "She is just calling you nicknames like I do."
"Mrs. O'Neill, I have to know, did you call your son Snookums when he was small?" Sam asks with a grin hiding in her face.
"I still do, don't I?" Mrs. O'Neill says, smiling at her son.
Sam doesn't hide the giggle now.
"Are we eating now?" Jack asks his mother.
"Of course, get some hot dish in this little one," Mrs. O'Neill says.
"Hot dish?" Sam asks.
"It's a Midwest thing. I'd never heard of it before we moved to Minnesota. It's… meat and vegetables and pasta all in one big…" Jack explains.
"Hot dish?" Sam asks.
"Yeah," he says, looking a little bashful at this new family tradition.
"I don't like hot dishes," Ty says crossing his arms.
"Of course you do, Bud, and if you suck up real good you're going to also get a bar," Jack says.
"Rice crispies, chocolate, and peanut butter," Mrs. O'Neill explains.
"You can put the food in the kitchen, Snookums," Sam says with a grin.
"Ok, Angel," he says, getting revenge on her for calling him a name this only his mother can get away with.
"Angel?" Jacob says with his 'you've got to be kidding me' look.
Sam blushes, "Ah… when Jack and I first met."
"When Sam was saving our ass..." he glances at the little boy, looking up at his father for a story, "...sets."
"Jack was a little loopy from blood loss," Sam says.
"Actually, I thought I was dead," he informs her.
"Like I said, loopy from the blood loss," Sam interrupts.
"And then the sunlight touches on her hair, and it looks like a halo," Jack says with a shrug of his shoulders.
"You never told me that," Sam says, smiling at him.
"Well, thank you for saving my son," Mrs. O'Neill says genuinely.
"Daddy, I want more war stories," Tyler says, reaching up with his arms, a universal childhood signal for 'pick me up'.
"You are a little young for war stories," Jack says, swinging the kid into his arms.
Jacob hands him an open bottle of beer.
"Daddy, most people have a Daddy and a Mommy, don't they?" Tyler asks.
"Yeah babe," he says, "And you have two parents, too."
"Right, but I only used to have one, and both of my parents only have one. Mommy only has a daddy, and daddy only has a mommy. How come?" he asks.
The adults all sit in silence, "Sweetie," Sam says, "Remember how we told you that Grandma died when I was little?"
Tyler nods.
"Ok, so that is why you only have one grandma," Sam says softly.
"How come I only have one grandpa?" Tyler asks, looking at his father.
"You have a grandpa," Jack says in a tone that would clue an adult on to the fact that they should switch subjects, but a three year old doesn't take notice of that.
"Will I get to meet him? I'm meeting lots of relatives lately," Tyler says.
"Yes, you are," Jack says giving him a smile, "But Grandpa lives too far away, so you won't ever get to meet him."
"Don't lie to him," Mrs. O'Neill's says fiercely.
"Mom, I don't want to exactly explain spousal abuse to a three year old," Jack says before he can think about it.
"What is that?" Tyler says, his tongue not quite able to try out the new word.
Jack desperately tries to think up a lie. But Jacob breaks in. This is the first he's heard of Jack's past, but he knows that Jack and his mother shouldn't have to explain this.
"Sweetie, remember when your mother told you that her job is fighting bad guys?" Jacob asks.
Tyler nods.
"Well, Jack's daddy is one of those bad guys."
Tyler looks up at her father, "Was he really?"
Jack swallows a lump in his throat, and the makes eye contact with his mother, "Yeah, he was."
"Mommy and you could get him, you fight bad guys, right?" Tyler asks.
How simple the world of a child is. Jack can't figure out how to explain away this vigilante kind of justice.
Sam breaks in, "Remember when you hit Daddy?"
Tyler pulls himself closer to his father, "Sorry, daddy."
"Why was that wrong?" Jack presses, seeing where Sam is going with this.
"'Cause you don't fight your family," Tyler says.
"Exactly," Jack says.
"Oh, ok," Tyler says.
-0-0-0-
"You have everything you need?" Jack asks later that night, as he looks into his guest room.
"I'm fine, son, and I'm proud of you," Mrs. O'Neill says, pulling her son to her for the thousandth hug of the day.
"You're proud of me for having a kid I didn't know about?" Jack asks guilty. His mom had been cool about this whole thing, maybe a bit too cool.
"He's a great, boy, Son, and as soon as you knew about him you did the right thing. That's what counts," his mother assures him. She grins at him, "So what's going on with your Angel?"
He blushes like a teenage boy being teased about his first crush, "Nothing, mom."
"Come on, I've seen the way that you two looked at each other. There is something intense going on there," his mother says.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, "It was very intense. So intense, that sometimes it scares me," he nearly whispers.
"She burned you once," his mother with a nod.
"She didn't do it on purpose," he says.
"No, she didn't," his mother repeats. When he was a kid he hated these sorts of conversations. He used to just want his mother to tell him what to do, instead of repeating everything that he said until he figured it out for himself. Now, as an adult, he's come to enjoy the genius of it.
"I never really stopped loving her," he whispers.
"You might want to tell her that."
"What if she doesn't feel the same?"
"Then you'll go back to just being the father of her kid, nothing ventured, nothing gained," his mother says with a smile.
"I was going to propose to her… back then," he admits, looking at the wall.
His mother smiles, "Well, son I think I'd hang on to that ring, because I saw the same look in her eyes that I saw in yours."
Jack frowns, remembering that the ring is actually at the bottom of his pond. "Ty's cute, though, isn't he?" Jack gushes by way of distraction.
"Oh, he got your energy! And definitely your intelligence. He's a smart one."
"Oh, he's smart, but he doesn't get that from me. His mother is a genius," Jack explains.
"So are you," his mother says.
"Well, you're my mother, you have to say that."
"And how about your high school that made you valedictorian? Did they have to do it, too?" she presses.
"Hey, don't tell the Carters that little detail, ok?" Jack says, glancing into her eyes for a brief moment before they dart away.
"Why would you be hiding that from them?" his mother asks with concern.
"I'm not exactly hiding it," Jack says with a sigh. He doesn't know how to explain this without making Sam look bad, "Look, women have a tough time in the Air Force. So, Sam spends a lot of her time trying to convince people how amazing she is. She is amazing. But, she doesn't exactly need a lot of competition in the intelligence department."
"You spend a lot of time with your son?" Mrs. O'Neill asks.
"Yeah, I see him almost every day. Especially when Sam is off… out of the country. Both of our jobs have us leaving the country for a couple days at a time. We think it's important for me to be there when Sam isn't. I mean, he has Jacob, too," Jack says.
Mrs. O'Neill nods, "I'm glad you get to see him whenever you want to."
"Yeah, I'm pretty lucky," Jack agrees.
Mrs. O'Neill bumps her son's shoulder. Jack can tell there is something else on his mother's mind. He thinks he might know what it is, and he hopes she doesn't broach the topic. He knew he should have said no when Jacob slipped a beer into his hand after dinner.
But she does, "You're drinking, Jack."
"I have a beer every once and a while, mom," he says.
"Children of alcoholics should avoid drinking," she reminds him.
"I know, Mom, and I promise I have it under control," he whispers.
"Ok," she says.
He reaches his hand up and traces a scar on her face, "I would never do that."
"I know, babe," she says hugging him.