He found it in the trash can soon after Daniel died. He almost didn't reach in and pluck it out. He'd stood there, uncomfortable for the first time in her lab, afraid she would return and see him, holding his own indictment. They were dealing with their grief in different ways, ways that kept them in separate planes, never coexisting. He looked down at the book in his hands. Maybe this particular plane no longer existed. He was unprepared for how deeply that thought affected him.

He moved to put it back on the shelf where she usually kept it, but hesitated, decided it wasn't quite safe yet in plain sight. On his way out the door with the book hidden under his jacket, he felt as though an invisible force shield had stopped him at the threshold. Taking it wasn't right, either. He turned, shuffled his feet a bit deciding which direction to go, then went for a metal shelf in the corner, where less-used equipment was stored.

He tucked the book under his arm and snatched a black binder from the shelf. He found pockets inside the cover and figured that would be safer than leaving it loose. The book was magazine thin, but it still took a some convincing to get it to slide between the layers of plastic. Well-used though it already was, he flinched when a corner caught on the binder plastic. He angled his body to watch the door while he was working and smoothed it back down.

Finally satisfied with the book's placement, he put the binder back on the shelf. Pushed it back a few inches, pulled it forward an inch. Was that where it had been? Would she notice? Find the book and trash it again? He was tempted to take it back to his quarters after all, but bootsteps in the hall threatened a coronary as he leapt from the back of her lab to her work table to hunch over and examine a piece of equipment. He winced at the twinge in his knee, which she caught as she rounded the corner.

"Are you all right, sir?" Though she sounded far away and unconcerned.

"Of course. You know, just the knee," he said, tapping it.

"Maybe you shouldn't stand like that." The absence of the sir that time was deafening. He ignored it.

"Well if I can't stand, I sure as heck shouldn't be leading a team." His attempt at humor boomeranged back at him as he realized there was more than a hint of truth in the statement. She emitted a humorless snort that mirrored his thoughts.

"Did you need something, sir?" She wasn't physically tapping her foot at him, but the impatience in her eyes told him she was mentally doing it.

"What? Oh, um…" he glanced around, thinking. "I was just wondering…do you have a ruler I could borrow?"

She just stared at him. Straight through his soul with ice-blue eyes. Then, she reached between them toward something on the work table. He didn't realize what it was until he broke eye contact first. She was placing a ruler in his hands. A lame excuse to be in her lab once would have made her blush and roll her eyes. He would duck his head in mock shame and shuffle out the door with an invitation to lunch or a comment about catching her on the other side of the gate. He wasn't sure how to get out of her lab without that particular coping mechanism. She chickened out first, showing the first sign of weakness since she'd entered.

"I, uh, forgot something downstairs." She made a vague motion with her thumb over her shoulder that was a little more his brand of awkward than hers, which evoked a smile from him that she didn't see as she turned to escape her own lab. He was pretty sure downstairs had come to mean Daniel's lab. And he wondered if it always would.

He didn't really blame her for the cold shoulder. Because he, bastard that he was, had done it first. The day Daniel ascended, she was looking for someone to mourn with. Instead, he had tried to convince her it wasn't the same as dying, and that as a scientist she should appreciate Daniel's decision to explore the unknown for the greater good. Which was 100% the wrong thing to say and he knew it before it came out of his mouth. He didn't actually believe it. He was just angry with Daniel for expecting him to understand, so he was throwing his words at someone else so he didn't have to hold onto them anymore. It was awful, but it was an improvement in his grief coping skills considering what grief had done to him his first trip through the gate. He figured she was less mad at him for the words and more ashamed she'd shown vulnerability only to be shot down. He's not stupid when it comes to feelings. He just realizes things too late sometimes. Most of the time.

Before, whenever they were at odds with one another, Daniel ha been the buffer. He'd go to them one at a time, and with his diplomatic skills that Jack had always underappreciated until now, he'd listen, nod, patiently present the other person's side, and wait for a response. If he didn't get the response he was looking for, he'd eventually up the ante and call Jack a stubborn SOB. He figured he was probably a little nicer to Sam. But then again, she was quicker to admit when she was wrong.

With one last glance at the black binder, he turned to leave. He knew she'd find it eventually. Nothing went on in her lab that she didn't know about. Every tool, down to the last pencil, had a purpose. He just hoped she'd find it at the right time.

P=100.584/400

The book didn't make an appearance in the infirmary when they were warming up after they'd escaped their crashed mothership that he was still pouting about. Although, he had to admit their relationship was a bit warmer. Almost dying together tended to overwrite some of the brain's pathways toward bitterness. He knew better than anyone. He had been bound and determined to die on his first trip to Abydos, but the life-affirming optimism of a scruffy-headed archaeologist had rerouted his path of self-destruction. Which continued when he realized a Jaffa was willing to turn his back on everything he knew to save him and his team. And somewhere between the moment a spunky blond asked him if he wanted to arm wrestle and jumped his bones in the locker room, he had decided he had a family to live for again.

Jonas was sitting on a stool, wrapped in a blanket and examining a blood pressure cuff like it was one of the universe's greatest mysteries. He said he hadn't been in the water as long, but Janet insisted he be checked out. Jack didn't think he was that cold either until the adrenaline of their escape started to wear off and every bone in his body ached. When he turned to look at Carter's bed, all he saw was a pile of blankets.

"You warm yet?" he called from his own bed. The pile shook back and forth, which he assumed was a no.

"I don't think I'll be warm for a month," she whined. He chuckled. Well, a month was better than never, he thought.

P=100.584/400

He didn't see it when he returned from Ba'al's fortress. Though, truth be told, he was in a pretty terrible mood and might have just scribbled profanity on every line. She'd still never mentioned the time he'd ripped out a page when he got drunk that one time after their return from P3R-118.

He lost hope when she didn't bring it to visit him after he was rescued from the anti-utopia moon. Janet had stitched his leg up and done a full workup to see if there were any lasting effects of the plant, but the infirmary was pretty busy with a banged-up SG-10 that had just returned from a mission, so she cut him loose early pending the results. As long as he promised to rest in his quarters. Normally, he'd disobey her orders and roam around, but he cowardly used it as an excuse to avoid talking to anyone. Teal'c had already mentioned to him that Carter had taken his absence pretty hard. And whenever Teal'c mentioned something, it wasn't a passing comment – It was because he meant for him to do something about it. But then again, Jack was a stubborn SOB, wasn't he?

He planned to think about it after he got a good night's sleep that didn't involve running from a man with Arugula-induced paranoia. He never quite addressed it, which he regretted deeply after watching her almost die on P3X-367. When they got back home, he planned to go find the damn book himself and bring it to the infirmary, but they were all released at the same time after their routine checkup, the machine having apparently returned her completely to normal after all. Of that he was certainly glad, but was worried he'd missed his chance to revive their hobby for good.

Imagine his surprise a few weeks later when he rounded the corner to find her explaining crosswords to a post-op Jonas. He didn't even care that she was doing a puzzle with the new guy. He was just so overjoyed to see the book in her hands. He stood in the doorway, much like all those years ago watching a new-Earth Teal'c, grinning from ear to ear as he listened to their exchange.

"But Major Carter, why wouldn't you just research the answers? Here at the SGC we have access to the finest resources."

She grasped his arm and held her smile in check. "Jonas," she said in a tone a lot like Jack said "Carter" when she was too focused on something, "It's not an assignment. It's a game."

"Oh." Jonas looked disappointed for a moment, and then realization dawned. "Oh!" And then he smiled like a kid with a new toy.

Her face lit up. Jack was secretly proud of her for teaching someone else to get a life. Albeit, a puzzle book was still kind of nerdy. But, baby steps. They all made baby steps every day.