Jack dried his hands on a dishtowel and contemplated the bottle of whiskey on the counter. It was early yet, but he was alone and alone meant he could drink whenever the hell he felt like it. And he had been. Morning, afternoon, night, didn't seem to matter, if the demons came, so did the tumbler. It made the memories hazy, it made the dreams feel less real. The alcohol made it all seem a little more surmountable and made him feel a little less like he was one step away from losing.

He had just reached for the bottle when a knock he'd come to identify as hers filtered through the house. He cursed, low, under his breath. He wasn't prepared for another encounter with Carter. The last time he'd seen her he had told her they needed to talk, but he hadn't exactly expected her to press the issue. And he'd expressly told her he didn't want to talk at his place. He had his reasons and he wasn't prepared to justify them to her.

He stalked to his front door and pulled it open none too gently. She looked taken aback by the sharp, dark look on his face and his abrupt answering of the door. "Hi, sir," she said softly, her eyes dropping demurely in a way that went right to his groin, incongruously. Why did so many of the things she did turn him on? Hadn't he just been taught a very particular lesson about where he ranked in the hierarchy of pleasure? Shouldn't he know by now that it wasn't something for him to feel? Not anymore? He was disgusted with himself both for forgetting his hard learned lessons and for crossing a line with a woman he wasn't supposed to feel those things for to begin with.

He flashed suddenly to a moment back when he was being tortured when all he wanted to do was get home and make her eyes smile again. He realized, suddenly, that he hadn't given her eyes any reason to smile since he'd been home, and he'd completely forgotten that he'd wanted that at one time. He tamped it back down into that place he reserved for other things he no longer deserved.

He realized, then, that she was still staring at her feet after greeting him and they were both standing in his gaping doorway. He either needed to turn her away or invite her in and one was just as likely as the other at the present moment, he decided. "What are you doing here?" he asked her gruffly.

"You said we needed to talk."

"I also said not here."

"We shouldn't go anywhere, either, sir," she pointed out. "And I didn't think you'd want to come to me. Actually, no sir, I didn't think you would come to me."

Truer words were likely never spoken because chances were, as much as he had wanted to talk to her about the kiss they'd shared, that he'd have put it off indefinitely for lack of knowing what to say. But, she was here now and the least he could do, the very fucking least, was let her in. So he took a step back and gave her a half hearted wave inside. "I was about to have a drink. You want one?"

"It's eleven thirty."

"Is that a no?"

She grimaced at him. "Yes."

"Suit yourself." He closed the door behind her and then meandered into the kitchen. She, wisely he thought, didn't follow him to the scene of their last crime. He poured himself several fingers and then made her a glass of ice water in another tumbler and carried both into the living room where he found her studying the photographs on the mantle.

"You're here to talk," he reminded her.

"Because you said we needed to."

He took a sip of his whiskey and stared her down. "What the hell were you thinking?" He asked her instead of delving into to the topic they really needed to cover.

"About what?"

"Taking a fucking Asgard suicide mission?"

"It's not like I was given much choice," she said hotly. "And in case you've forgotten, I'm prepared for exactly those sorts of missions. Just because you weren't there doesn't mean Teal'c and I weren't perfectly capable of-"

"It has nothing to do with me not being there!"

"Then what's the problem?"

"I had no idea if you were alive or if your body was at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, Carter. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

She laughed derisively. "Oh, I think I have some idea."

He looked at her sharply, one eyebrow raised.

"Does Edora ring any bells?"

"I was fine!"

"I didn't know that! I... you have no idea what I did to bring you home," she seethed at him.

It was true, he still didn't understand exactly what the big deal was. But he wasn't going to get into it with her again. She'd already told him how she'd invented something new, but as near as he could figure she did that on a bi-weekly basis so what the big fucking deal was he didn't know. "Is that really what you're pissed about?" he threw at her, knowing now that it was likely his dalliance with Laira that stung as much as his inability to understand her monumental accomplishment.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you pissed because I didn't thank you properly or are you pissed because I fucked another woman?"

She gasped, likely at his roughened language, but possibly because he called her out on her feelings so thoroughly with one statement. She pulled herself up to her full height though and he could see her steely resolve wash across her face. "I'll admit it hurt to watch you go to her, to know you'd started a relationship with her. But if you were happy..."

He laughed snidely, "Happy? I thought I was giving up everything I knew. Happy I wasn't, Carter."

"Oh."

"But Laira was a good woman."

He watched pain flit across her face at his saying something nice about the woman. "She'd have had to be, for you to choose her."

"You give me a lot of credit."

"I always have, sir."

"Even when I had to go undercover?"

"That was a difficult time," she said, carefully modulating her tone. "You weren't yourself."

"Oh, I was myself," he corrected her.

"I can't believe that."

"Believe it, Carter."

"I can't believe you'd have gone out of your way to hurt me."

"I don't owe you anything."

"If nothing else, sir, we were friends."

"Says who?" he spit.

She jerked as if he'd slapped her and it made him deflate a little.

"I didn't mean that," he said contritely.

"I think you did. At least a little," she said quietly. "Because we've never really been friends, have we?"

He considered her carefully. They hadn't been friends. Not the way he'd been friends with, say, Daniel. He didn't hang out with Carter, didn't call her up on a Friday night just to shoot the shit.

"But I know you, sir. And you're... I know what you think about yourself, but you're a good man. And you wouldn't just have gone out of your way to hurt me. What you said had to have been..."

"If you're so convinced that I didn't mean what I said to you, then why are you pissed at me about the undercover mission?"

"Because you didn't tell me what was going on!" She said heatedly.

"It was an undercover mission. I couldn't tell you!"

"I was your second in command, you could have told me anything and I'd have backed you up."

"I was under orders, Carter. You understand orders, don't you?"

A pained look crossed her face and he knew she understood exactly why he couldn't talk to her about the mission. But it didn't make it any easier to stomach. The whole conversation pained her and he knew it. He was blindsided again by the need to touch her, similar to the need he'd had on the tel'tak to just feel her skin, to know she was real and tangible right there in front of him. He felt, almost, like if he could just touch her, he could understand her pain, maybe even take it away though why he felt the sudden urge to take it away he didn't know, considering he'd felt so pained himself for so long now.

He sat his tumbler down on the coffee table next to the one of ice water he'd brought for her that had remained untouched. He reached for her hands. She startled when he took her hands into his and then she looked confused. But as he stroked the backs of her hands with his thumbs she relaxed in his grip. He could feel the heat of their argument begin to fade away and leave behind something softer, for her, in its wake. He knew it was the feel of her skin against his that precipitated that change.

"I can't take back the things I said and did," he said. "I'm not even sure I'd want to."

"Okay," she said shakily, clearly confused.

"And you scared the absolute crap out of me when you were on that Asgard ship. Don't do that again."

"I did my job. I can't promise you I'm not going to do it again."

"I'm not good at being the one who's left behind."

"Then don't retire," she said pleadingly.

He squeezed her hands tightly, stroked his hands up to grasp her delicate wrists. He looked into her eyes and saw the way she softened at his touch. He could tell she didn't want to, there was still fire in her from their words, but just as he wanted to touch her she wanted so badly to be touched. A fine pair they made. But as he looked into her eyes he felt like they were finally really communicating, not just talking at one another and he liked the things they were saying, he liked the way they felt. It felt good to be connected to her the way he was, it didn't feel wrong or illicit or even as if he were taking something that no longer belonged to him. Touching her felt like being grounded for the first time in a very long time.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sam was startled from her work by the sound of her phone ringing. She pushed herself back from her lab table and reached for it before it could trill again, filling the quiet space of her lab with its shrill sound. "Carter."

"Sam, you were supposed to be in the infirmary half an hour ago for your follow up," Janet said with a hint of censure in her voice.

"What time is it?" She asked idly.

"Three thirty."

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now."

"You're always in the middle of something."

Sam huffed. "I'll be there in a few minutes." It took her ten to wrap up what she was doing and then a few more to make her way to the infirmary. Janet was standing there, waiting, chart in hand, toe tapping, looking less than thrilled to be kept waiting. "Sorry," Sam said, feeling immediately contrite.

"You need to start taking your health seriously."

"I do take my health seriously."

"No, you don't."

"Janet," Sam said warningly.

Janet visibly bit the inside of her cheek. "First things first, I want you on the scale."

Sam wilted. She knew that she hadn't yet put on the weight she'd lost. She was afraid, even, that she'd lost more. She hadn't been hungry and it had been far too easy to skip meals, especially on the tel'tak when all they'd had to eat were MREs. But, dutifully, she climbed onto the scale. And waited for Janet to frown. "You're down another seven pounds."

"What do you want me to say?"

"That you'll take better care of yourself."

"I'm trying."

"I don't think that's true. Have a seat on the bed. I need to take your blood pressure."

Sam sighed and pulled off her BDU top, exposing her t-shirt and arm for the blood pressure cuff.

Janet silently took Sam's blood pressure and, with a mou of disappointment, recorded her findings in Sam's chart.

"What?"

"Low," Janet said simply.

"Oh come on, like I have any control over that."

"I want you eating better, sleeping more, and getting more exercise." Janet made a few more notations in the chart and then asked, almost conversationally, "How's Colonel O'Neill doing?"

"How should I know?" was Sam's immediate response.

"Haven't you seen him?"

Sam considered, for a brief moment, lying to her friend, but ultimately decided that would end up getting her in more trouble than it was worth. "Yes," she said simply. She decided not to elaborate at all, even when Janet raised her eyebrows and made a continue motion with her hand.

It was all too easy to want to confide in someone about how she was feeling about everything that had been happening with the colonel in the last many days but as much as she wanted to, she knew that sharing the developments with her friend was out of the question. Telling Janet that there was a kiss between her and the colonel now would be just one more thing that Janet would have to be worried about. And Sam didn't want it to be something to be worried about. Goodness knew there was enough about it that provoked thought already.

Instead, Sam held it all inside herself, like something that needed to be protected, like a secret that belonged to just the two of them. Because, in truth, it did. Well, the two of them and Daniel. She should really have a chat with Daniel. She owed him a good talking to after everything he'd put her through, whether he intended to do it or not. He should have known, especially after she'd flat out told him, to stay the hell out of it.

"Are we done here?" Sam asked Janet, already pulling her BDU shirt back on.

"Not so fast," Janet said holding up her hand. "There's more to a wellness exam than taking your weight and blood pressure. I want to draw some blood, too." Janet took her time, Sam thought, drawing three vials of blood.

"Now, are we done?"

"I guess so," Janet said, clearly disappointed that she wasn't going to be getting any information out Sam. "But I'm serious about your weight, Sam, if you don't get it back up, I'm going to have to pull you off active duty. It's too low."

"Fine," Sam huffed, "I'll take care of it." She could put a few pounds on. She knew she could. She'd just have to pay attention, make it a point to eat three meals a day, maybe start putting sugar in her coffee again. At least for a little while...

"And six hours a night, at least. Every night."

"Fine," Sam said, surly still. Though she wasn't sure how she was going to convince her body to sleep for six hours straight multiple nights in a row when she could barely get herself to sleep for more than a couple hours at a stretch. But damned if she was going to ask for something to help her sleep. She didn't think that would go over too well, anyway. And really, it would just raise more questions.

Janet sighed, "You're free to go." It was apparent that she wasn't pleased that Sam wasn't opening up to her, but Sam couldn't bring herself to be completely honest with her friend. Especially not after knowing exactly what Janet's reaction to Sam's having feelings for her commanding officer would be – which is to say, she'd have the exact right reaction: concern.

Sam hopped off the table and donned her BDU jacket, intent on finding Daniel. "Thanks," she threw over her shoulder at Janet dismissively.

"Yeah," the other woman said. "Anytime." But she didn't sound very magnanimous.

Sam went directly to Daniel's office, she didn't dally, she didn't even stop by her lab for fear she'd get engrossed in something that would take her attention away from what she knew she needed to do. She poked her head into his office and saw him sitting at his desk hunched over a book, as per usual. "Hey," she said. "You got a minute?"

He started to smile until he saw the hardened look on her face and then he frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Let's go get some coffee," she said.

"I've got coffee."

"Off base."

"Oh. I'm kind of in the middle of something," he tried.

"It won't take long," she cajoled.

"I guess I can take a break."

It was a silent ride to the local coffee shop. Sam wasn't inclined to speak until she had the fortification of the coffee, or perhaps the distraction, and Daniel seemed to be able to tell that there was something very wrong and Sam suspected that he had some inkling what it might be. Once they had their coffees and were sat with a table between them she began. "I thought I was pretty clear about what you should and shouldn't talk about."

"When?"

"Daniel."

Daniel sighed theatrically. "Okay. But, It's not like I talked to anyone about it who could cause you trouble."

"You don't think my commanding officer could cause me trouble?!"

"Jack? He wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

"Right now, I don't know if that's true. And you don't either. Who knows what he's capable of right now, Daniel? But that's not the point. The point is, I told you to stay out of this. And you went right to the one person you should have stayed away from the most. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Hopefully forced you two to talk to each other."

"Do you really think any of this is what he needs right now?"

"I think what he needs right now is to know that he's not alone."

"And you thought the best way to tell him that was to tell him that I had feelings for him?"

"Well... yes."

She hadn't expected that answer so she was momentarily flummoxed. "I thought I could trust you." Daniel opened his mouth to speak but she rushed on and spoke over him. "I thought we were friends."

"You can," he got out. "We are."

She shook her head. "Not like this, we aren't."

"Sam-"

"What you did changed things between me and the colonel forever."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Did you ever think that maybe they needed to be changed? Sam, you can't go on like you have been. You can't tell me that everything has been all right. You've been a mess, and not just because he's been missing for so much of the last five months."

She felt herself flush with embarrassment. She had been a mess and it was damned embarrassing. "I don't know if I can forgive this," she said quietly.

"Sam-"

"You said you understood," she said pleadingly.

"I did understand. But then I thought about it. And he deserved to know. He needed to know. And you needed him to know. Whether you know that or not."

"I'm a grown woman, I don't need you to make those decisions for me."

"You weren't acting like it," he said with a lick of heat in his voice.

"You're making it really difficult to look past this."

"I don't want you to look past it. I want you to see that I was right and that you and Jack need to deal with this."

She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back from the table with her legs, her coffee forgotten on the table. "We're done here."

"Sam, come on."

"Find your own way back. I'm going home."

He sat back in his chair looking resigned. "I'll take a cab."

She nodded once and made for the exit. When she sat down in her car she realized she was shaking but she thought it was probably more nerves than anger because she suspected that maybe, just maybe, Daniel was right.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jack pulled his front door open even as he rolled his eyes. "You know, I think I see more of you guys now than I did when I was on base."

Daniel took that as an invitation and walked into the house. "When is your leave over, anyway?"

Jack pushed the door closed and ignored the question. "Why are you here?"

"I just had coffee with Sam."

"Okay. So?"

"She's pretty pissed at me."

"Yeah." That was an understatement.

"She thinks you're going to make trouble for her."

"She does?"

"Well," Daniel hedged, "she said you could. I'm not sure she believes you really would. I think she's just really mad at me. She said she wasn't sure we were friends."

Jack grimaced. Daniel sounded hurt and hurt Daniel was a talkative Daniel. "I'll take care of Carter."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'll handle it. It's between me and her anyway. Don't you think you've been in the middle of this enough?"

Daniel frowned. "I was just trying to help."

"Carter was right, you know. You should have stayed out of it."

"You two are impossible," he said heatedly. "You were never going to talk about it!"

"She didn't want to talk about it!" Jack felt the need to point out. "She wanted to deal with it on her own. She wanted it to go away."

"Feelings like that don't just go away."

Jack harumphed. "Now I really don't want to talk about it."

"What's the problem, Jack? That you don't feel the same way about her, or that you do?"

The question hit a little too close to home for Jack's comfort, considering the thoughts he'd been having recently. "The problem is you sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong like we're in high school or something."

"Well, if you're not going to talk about that, maybe you should talk about what happened to you."

"Maybe not."

"Jack-"

"Don't push it, Daniel."

"It's just... we have no idea what you went through and it might help us help you if we-"

"Daniel? Drop it."

"But Jack, if we just-"

"You've had the Blood of Sokar, Daniel. What the hell do you think happened to me?!"

"I meant... we walked in on..."

"Daniel," Jack said in a low, warning tone. "Don't tell me you have no idea what happened to me when you clearly do have some idea. I'm not talking about it. Not with you. Not with anyone."

"But they're going to make you talk about it with someone before you come back. Aren't they?"

"I'm retiring," he said, without preamble. "Carter didn't tell you?"

"What? No!"

"Well, at least one of you knows how to keep their mouth shut."

"You can't!"

It sounded familiar and he resisted the urge to answer in the same way he had previously. "I told you, I'm not going through this with MacKenzie."

"Then we'll get you someone else."

"I'm not going through it with anyone." Jack shuddered involuntarily. The idea of laying it all out for someone gave him chills all the way down to the center of himself. It was bad enough he had to relive the horror in his dreams, but to have to say it out loud would be too much, he thought. And then, to have to admit to how he was used? Too humiliating.

"So you'd rather just leave it all behind? No more stargate? No more SG-1? What about the rest of us?"

"You'll be assigned a new commanding officer and you'll go on without me."

"It won't be the same without you."

"Nothing stays the same forever."

"We were supposed to," Daniel said forlornly, it was almost enough to make Jack feel badly about leaving.

"This is the way it is, Daniel."

"So... you just go?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

After that Daniel was quiet for a long time like he was mulling things over. It left Jack disconcerted but he was reluctant to fill the silence for fear that he'd say something that would cause Daniel to start talking again. Finally, after what felt like forever and a long time after Jack started wishing he'd had a beer in his hands if only for something to do, Daniel said, "If you retired it would make it possible for you and Sam to-"

"Daniel, drop it." Jack cut in immediately.

"But-"

"No."

"So you're not interested at all?"

Jack hesitated, and he didn't know why. He should outright deny all interest in Samantha Carter, it should be his mantra, he should say it over and over again to himself and anyone who would listen to ensure that he didn't tangle himself up with her. But he found that lying to Daniel outright about it was pretty damned difficult. "I'm going to throw some steaks on the grill for dinner," he said instead. "You gonna stick around?"

Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Jack exhaled with relief. Conversation over. Good.