"He's not Daniel," Jack says, hands flourishing above his desk and dropping again, palms flat against the hard surface. "And the answer is no." He's tired of this. He's tired of Hammond and anyone else asking him about when he'll pull a fourth member onto SG-1 and whom it will be. Daniel's body had been barely, well, sparkly light bullshit before the questions had started.
But this is the first time Sam is bringing it up, and he feels betrayed. He knows it's unreasonable. He knows he's been on and off with his support of her during their shared grief. He glances up to meet her eyes and is grateful for the forgiveness he finds there.
"Sir, would you really rather some random other person to," she pauses, chewing on her lip, then raises her hands into air quotes, "to offset our overwhelming coolness?"
"Teal'c is such a fucking gossip."
"General Hammond, actually."
"Generals are always the worst gossips, Carter."
"Be that as it may, Sir," Sam says, resting an elbow on her side of his desk and leaning her face into a cupped hand, "you've been ordered to assign someone, and I don't see why it shouldn't be Jonas. If it hadn't been for him-"
"If it hadn't been for him, Daniel would still be here!"
Sam's eyes drop to her lap. It's a fair point, if an unhelpful one. He knows it and she knows it. And he feels like shit for yelling it at her. He knows her well enough to know she's thought it and felt it a hundred times over on her own before coming here to suggest this to him.
What she doesn't know is that he isn't only dealing with his grief about Daniel, who might not be dead, but is apparently dead to them. The loss is felt no less. But Jack can't stop imagining a scenario where Sam had been with Jonas during that unfortunate moment in Kelowna when the reactor started to overload.
He can't stop thinking about how much more likely it was that she would have been there based on the purpose of their experiments, but for some reason that day she'd come on the city tour with him while Daniel nerded out with Jonas. Any other day, any other mission, and she's the one who definitely did the same stupid shit Daniel did and she's the one who's dead. Not ascended, dead. It's been an acid eating the inside of him since the moment they got a radio call about the accident, and he feels like shit for experiencing some relief while also mourning Daniel. Jesus fucking christ.
It must be showing on his face, because she's looking at him with sorrow beyond grief. He knows she can read this from him, knows that after all these years he has no hope of hiding his feelings or their foundation or their strength.
"I don't know if this helps, Sir, but I would never have done what Daniel did," she says.
"Yes you would. You're no less a hero."
"Not to speak ill of the dead, but I would never have been in that situation."
Jack's eyes fly up, startled and confused and a little bit angry.
"It's not that what he did had no cause, Sir, but there was no sense in it. He just wasn't informed enough about the reality of the situation."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, I do." She sighs and leans back in her chair for a moment before standing to walk around the side of his desk and settle her ass against the edge near him. She reaches one hand out and he takes it. Their fingers lace together without effort and she squeezes. "What Daniel didn't know that I know is that the goa'uld technology they were using as a casing would have blocked the radiation." She shrugs. "He never listens to me about this stuff, you know? So anyway he ran in there and actually made the danger that killed him." She looks angry, now, and he wonders if it is at herself or Daniel or the world. "I'm always going to be proud of Daniel, Sir. And I'm always going to miss him. But I'm pretty pissed."
"Me, too."
"And then he chose to leave us for whatever. Dad could have healed him to be with us, and he chose not to. Now, I'm happy for him, but I'm also pissed because we're a team; we were a family, right?"
"Yeah," he says. He wraps his other hand around her hip and tugs her down into his lap. She allows it. He's too numb still to feel the full surprise of that, but he wraps his arms around her in lieu of a second guess and she returns the hug.
"I would never have done that, Sir."
"Thank you, Carter," he whispers against her throat where it is pressed near his mouth. "Don't you ever even think about it."
"I won't, she says, stroking her hands along his shoulders." She presses her forehead against his and lifts one hand to trace his cheek. "Hey," she says, "It's not Jonas' fault."
"I know."
"Let him in, Sir."
"You and Teal'c really think so?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
