Sam and Jack parted ways inside the Homeworld offices, diving into their separate duties. But Sam's mind remained on edge, continuously returning to last night and the amount of time of unspoken words and unresolved emotions between them.
Later, she found herself staring at a report she'd barely read.
"Colonel?" Jack's voice came from the doorway. Sam looked up, forcing a neutral expression.
"Yes, Sir?"
He smirked at the formality, moving closer to her desk.
"Carter…" he began, moving closer. "Is there something wrong? You know… about last night? This morning."
Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she bit her lip to hold back the flood of emotions.
"I don't think this is exactly the place to talk about that, Sir," she said in a low voice.
Jack sighed, his fingers resting on her desk. He didn't seem troubled at all by the presence of other people in the room or the fact that he was pressing her to talk about having slept together for the first time.
"Look, I get it. We've spent too many years waiting for this…I know I had," he said with a little chuckle.
Sam looked at him, feeling the tension rising again.
"As I said, Sir, I don't think this is the right place to talk about these sorts of things," she said, pressing the last word.
Jack straightened up.
"Colonel Carter, please report to my office," he said in the most formal tone he could muster.
Sam swallowed as he left her desk and moved to his office. The Pentagon was bustling with activity, and some people glanced at her before returning to work. Sam slowly got up and followed him. His office door was open, and his secretary was on the phone. Sam entered and closed the door gently, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
He was already seated behind his desk. Sam remained undecided between sitting and standing until he gestured for her to sit. She obliged.
"Okay, we are alone. Spill it, Sam," he said, his voice a mix of concern and frustration, his eyes searching hers for answers.
She swallowed hard. Why hadn't he asked her this while they were having breakfast? At his house? Why had he chosen the Pentagon to discuss their private life?
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes meeting hers.
"You are bothered by something, Sam. You were concerned this morning in the kitchen. Are you afraid I'm not being honest with you? Is that what's troubling you, Sam?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers.
Sam took a deep breath, reminding herself of their commitment to honesty.
"Yes. I'm afraid you haven't got over Pete despite what you said, Jack. I know you. When you hold a grudge, it doesn't disappear quickly, and you've held that for more than a year. So yes, I'm afraid you're not being honest with me."
He sighed heavily.
"I was an idiot, Sam. I held onto a grudge, and I shouldn't have. Not when it comes to you. I'm far from perfect, and I need to work on plenty of things—this being one of them. But believe me, I'm not deceiving you. We've talked it through, and as far as I'm concerned, it's over. I don't like what happened, but I refuse to waste more time dwelling on it. I've had enough sleepless nights over that cop. No more."
His words were genuine, but Sam still felt the weight of their uncertain future.
"Okay, I believe you, but what happens when I return to SGC, Jack? What do we do then?"
Jack leaned forward, his face softening.
"I've thought about that. While you are here, I'll talk to the President and some well-placed people at the Pentagon. There are ways… options we can explore, Sam. I haven't figured it out yet, but I'm not letting us fall apart because of regulation. Besides, your presence here at the Pentagon might be an option. We don't know."
Sam's heart fluttered slightly, but the shadow of doubt remained.
"But you haven't told me anything about those options. You're keeping me in the dark. Has the President said anything about what happens after I finish my assignment here? Do I get to return to the SGC? What aren't you telling me, Jack?"
Jack sighed again.
"No, Hayes hasn't told me anything about your future. I'm just telling you that there might be options. I haven't spoken about them because I wanted to be sure, Sam," Jack said, his voice softening.
He leaned in just enough that his presence felt close, intimate, without overstepping.
"I didn't want to promise you something that might not happen. But I'm working on it. You have to believe that. And…" He paused, his eyes locking with hers, the weight of the unspoken heavy between them. "What happened last night—and this morning—meant the world to me. You have to know that."
Sam felt a flush rise from her chest to her cheeks, her heart pounding faster at his words. The intensity in his gaze made it hard to breathe. She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone inexplicably dry.
"To me too," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she lowered her eyes, unable to meet his for fear that he might see everything she was feeling—hope, fear, longing, all tangled together.
Jack's lips curved into a slow smile that reached his eyes, softening the rugged lines of his face. It wasn't the usual smirk she was so used to seeing, but something more profound, more vulnerable. It sent warmth fluttering through her chest.
"Good," he said, his voice a low rumble of relief and affection. "That's good to hear."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt charged, electric. Jack could feel his heart beat a little faster, the urge to pull her into his arms overwhelming. Her blush deepened, and she shifted slightly, biting her bottom lip in that way that always drove him crazy.
He chuckled softly, unable to help himself.
"You know, when you blush like that, Sam…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It's, uh… let's just say it's hard to think straight."
Sam's eyes flicked up to meet his, her blush darkening as she let out a breathless laugh.
"Don't tease me, Jack."
"Tease you?" Jack raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Never. It's just that…" He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice to a near-whisper. "You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now."
Her breath hitched, and her pulse quickened. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the desire that matched hers. She thought about closing the gap between them momentarily, letting him do exactly what he wanted: throw everything on his desk to the floor and kiss him. But her rational side—the part still trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism—held her back.
Sam cleared her throat, trying to steady herself.
"You know," she began, trying to use a teasing tone to deflect from the emotions coursing through her. "I could still hit you for that."
Jack grinned, the mischievous glint she was familiar with returning to his eyes.
"You could, but I think you won't."
"And why's that?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, genuinely curious now.
"Because…" Jack's smile softened again, and his voice grew more serious, more tender. "Because you know that I care about you, Sam. And after everything we've been through, I don't want to mess this up. Not for anything. So, I will let you lead this at your own pace as long as you need."
Sam's heart swelled at his words. She felt a wave of gratitude, knowing he wasn't pushing her and respected her enough to give her the space she needed. But there was also a deep sense of warmth in knowing he was right there with her, no matter how uncertain things were.
She let out a small, contented sigh, her tension easing just a bit.
"Thank you, Jack," she said softly, her eyes meeting his again with a quiet sincerity. "For understanding. For being patient."
"As long as I breathe," he replied without hesitation, his eyes never leaving hers.
After a beat, he straightened slightly and let out a breath.
"Alright," he said, a playful grin returning. "Can we get back to work now? Let that brilliant mind of yours put those fears to rest?"
Sam laughed lightly, the sound easing the intensity of the moment.
"I'll try," she said, still feeling the remnants of her blush but now tempered by a growing sense of calm.
"Good," Jack said, his voice warm. "And just for the record… you're even lovelier when you're flustered."
Sam rolled her eyes, but the smile that played at her lips betrayed her.
"You're incorrigible, General."
Jack shrugged, his grin broadening. "Part of my charm."
She shook her head, smiling as she returned to her work. But the warmth of his presence lingered, and for the first time in a long while, her fears didn't seem quite so overwhelming. They still had a lot to sort out, but knowing that Jack was there was enough for now.
Jack watched her for a moment longer, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. He had promised himself he'd give her time, and he would. But the way she looked at him just then, with that mix of affection and resolve, told him they were on the right path.
And that was all he needed—for now.
Jack was seated at his desk, staring at a stack of reports that seemed to multiply every time he looked away. His mind kept wandering back to what had happened in his bedroom – twice with Sam, a smile forming on his lips.
The phone on his desk rang, and his secretary's voice cut through his thoughts.
"General, you have a call from Dr. Susan Torremolinos. She insists it's urgent."
Jack sighed, instantly knowing what this was about. He had been dodging Dr. Torremolinos's calls for days, and she had finally caught up with him.
"Put her through," he said, leaning back in his chair and bracing himself for the inevitable.
The line clicked, and a familiar, no-nonsense voice came on.
"General O'Neill, who in the world permitted you to leave Washington D.C. and head to Colorado Springs without much as a word to me?"
Jack winced at the sharp tone but tried to keep his voice light. Janet Fraiser's spirit seemed to materialize in front of him.
"Ah, Doctor. It's good to hear your voice, too. Thought I'd get a little break from all the poking and prodding, you know? Needed some fresh mountain air."
"Don't you dare try to downplay this, General," Dr. Torremolinos snapped. "You know full well you're supposed to be under close medical supervision, yet here you are, gallivanting across the country like nothing's wrong. You've already missed two checkups—two! Do you have any idea how reckless that is?"
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool.
"Come on, Doctor. I feel fine. Besides, you know how it is. Duty calls."
"Duty can wait for your health," Susan retorted. "You're not invincible, General, no matter how much you like to think you are. You're under orders to report to me for tests to see if the toxin hasn't had any side effects. It was a hazardous substance, General. An alien hazardous substance, General. This isn't optional."
"Look, I've just been a little busy, okay? Carter's—"
"I don't care if you're saving the world from an alien invasion, General. You're coming in today for that checkup. I'm waiting for you. And if you don't show up, I will personally call President Hayes and inform him of your non-compliance. Trust me, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear how you're ignoring medical advice. Besides, I'll have a little chat with Colonel Carter after I hung up."
Jack opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get a word in, Susan continued, her tone firm and final. "You have until the end of the day, General. Don't make me come looking for you."
With that, the line went dead. Jack stared at the receiver in his hand, then muttered a string of curses under his breath. He tossed the phone back onto the cradle and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself. He knew she meant every word, and this one had no way out. He could deflect and downplay all he wanted, but Dr. Torremolinos was a force to be reckoned with, and she wasn't about to let him get away with ignoring his health. And he better leave before Carter showed up at his door.
With a resigned sigh, Jack pushed himself out of his chair and grabbed his jacket.
"Looks like I'm headed to the hospital," he grumbled, dreading the lecture he was sure to get when he arrived at Susan's office.
"Claire, I'm going out for some medical tests, and I should be back after lunchtime," he said, seeing that Carter was on the phone and looking in his direction. Shit. He didn't have much time.
"Of course, General," Claire said.
"I'm leaving," Jack said quickly as he saw Carter hang up and get up from her seat.
Jack was almost at the Homeworld's door when he nearly collided with Carter as she appeared, her breathing heavy. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger and concern that stopped him.
"Going somewhere, General?" Sam demanded, her voice sharp, although she kept it low.
Jack froze, a guilty look crossing his face.
"Uh, just... heading out for a quick checkup," he said, trying to sound casual.
Sam crossed her arms.
"A quick checkup? After you had already told me you'd done all your tests? I've spoken with Dr. Torremolinos just now and found out you've missed two of them, and now you're sneaking off?"
Jack winced.
"Come on, Carter, I wasn't sneaking off. I was just... going to get this over with."
Sam's eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer.
"You lied to me, General. You said you'd been to the hospital, that everything was fine. How could you do that?"
Jack tried to deflect with one of his trademark terrible jokes.
"You know me, Carter—always the rebel. Doctors, tests, all that poking and prodding... not really my thing."
But Sam wasn't having it.
"This isn't a joke, Jack!" Her voice was barely a whisper so that the guards couldn't hear them. "Your health is serious; you can't just brush it off like it's nothing. You know better than that."
Jack sighed, realizing there was no getting out of this.
"Okay, okay. I get it. But, seriously, I feel fine."
Sam's stern expression didn't waver.
"That's not the point. You're going to the hospital, and I'm coming with you. No arguments."
Before Jack could protest, Sam turned on her heel and headed out of the door, clearly expecting him to follow. Jack sighed again, knowing better than to argue with her when she was in this mood.
They walked briskly through the Pentagon's corridors, Sam keeping pace beside him with an air of determination that left no room for discussion.
"You know, General, for someone who's supposed to set an example, you're terrible at following orders—especially regarding your health." Sam continued her scolding.
Jack tried another attempt at humor.
"Hey, I'm great at following orders... when they're not about me."
Sam shot him a look that could have frozen lava.
"That's not funny. You told me you'd done the tests, and I believed you. Do you know how worried I was when I found out you hadn't?"
Jack's smile faded, replaced by a look of genuine regret.
"I'm sorry, Carter. I didn't mean to worry you. I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it."
"It is a big deal," Sam insisted as they stepped outside and got into Jack's official car.
Sensing the tension, the driver remained silent as he opened the door, let them enter, and headed toward the hospital.
The drive was tense, with Sam's anger simmering beneath the surface. Jack tried to break the silence with more lighthearted banter, but Sam wasn't having any of it.
"Jack," she said, her voice low, "if you don't take this seriously, I will personally make sure Dr. Torremolinos keeps you in that hospital until you do."
Jack raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll be good. Promise."
Sam didn't reply, but the stern look on her face was enough to keep him quiet for the rest of the drive.
When they arrived at the hospital, Dr. Susan Torremolinos was waiting for them in the lobby, her expression of barely restrained annoyance.
"General," she said in a tone that was far from welcoming, "I'm glad you finally decided to show up. However, I'm not thrilled that it took me threatening to call the President to get you here. Or a word with Colonel Carter."
Jack gave her a sheepish grin.
"You know me, Doc. Always the stubborn one."
Susan wasn't amused.
"Stubbornness isn't a virtue when it comes to your health. Now, let's get those tests done, shall we? And don't think I'm letting you off easy just because Sam's here."
Jack shot Carter a glance, but she just raised an eyebrow, clearly siding with the doctor.
Susan led Jack into the examination area, nodding to Sam to wait in the lobby. As the door closed behind them, Susan turned to Jack, her expression serious.
"You've been playing a dangerous game, General. Missing these checkups isn't just irresponsible; it's reckless. You know what you've been exposed to, and we can't afford to take any chances."
Jack nodded, feeling chastised. "I get it, Doc. I'll do better."
"You'd better," Susan replied, her voice softening slightly. "I don't want to see you in worse shape because you ignored something that could have been caught early."
The tests didn't take long, though they felt like an eternity to Jack. Blood work, scans, and a complete physical exam—Susan left no stone unturned. When it was finally over, Jack was escorted back to the lobby, where Sam was waiting, her arms crossed and expression still stern.
"Well?" Sam asked, not bothering to hide her concern.
Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Susan spoke first as she joined them.
"The results are back, and thankfully, they're negative. The General's system has no traces of the toxin and appears to be in good health. The only side effect I can see is his apparent memory lapse when keeping appointments."
Jack grinned, relieved. "See, I told you I was fine."
Susan didn't smile.
"You may be fine now, but that doesn't mean you can just skip out on your health. You will return here immediately if you feel even the slightest bit unwell. No excuses."
Jack nodded, sensing that any more jokes would only dig him into a deeper hole.
"Got it, Doc. No more dodging appointments."
"Good," Susan said, finally relaxing a little. "You're discharged, but don't think this means you're off the hook. I'll be expecting you back for a follow-up in a few weeks. And if you miss that one..."
Jack held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'll be here, I promise."
Susan gave him one last stern look before turning to Sam.
"He's all yours now. Just make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble."
Sam gave a slight nod.
"I'll do my best, Doctor. Thank you."
As they left the hospital, their tension had eased slightly, but there was still a lingering sense of unfinished business. As they returned to the car, Jack glanced at Sam, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
"I really am sorry, Carter. I didn't mean to worry you."
Sam looked at him for a long moment before sighing.
"Just... don't lie to me again. We promised to be honest with each other, even when it's hard."
Jack nodded, feeling the weight of her words. "I'll do better," he promised.
The car ride back to the Pentagon was quieter, but the tension had lifted, replaced by a shared understanding. They still had much to figure out, but they were on the same page again—and that was a start.
After the ordeal at the hospital, Jack sat in his office, trying to focus on the report in front of him. The document detailed the activities of private contractors who had indirectly done business with the SGC. Jack searched for any connection that might explain the smuggling of alien artifacts. The lines of text blurred slightly as he concentrated, piecing together clues in his mind.
Just then, his phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts. He picked up the receiver, and his secretary's voice came through.
"General, you have a call from the head of MI6."
Jack straightened in his chair, immediately alert.
"Put them through," he instructed, his tone all business. "Sir Charles. How are things over there?" Jack asked, going straight to the point.
Charles Davenport cleared his throat.
"General O'Neill. I have news regarding the investigation. That is why I'm calling."
Jack put the report aside.
"Please go on."
Davenport's expression hardened as he delivered his report, although Jack couldn't see it.
"It seems Mr. Wallace and Mr. Gromit are not just rogue agents. We have discovered they may have ties to a much larger operation—a faction working within multiple governments, including yours."
Jack's face darkened. This was bigger than he had anticipated. His mind whirred, thinking about the implications. Montague's betrayal wasn't the end—it was just the beginning.
Davenport continued, "The trail leads us to believe individuals at the SGC and MI6 are still working covertly to protect these rogue agents. We must proceed carefully."
Jack nodded, his voice grim. "We'll need to be ready for anything."
"Yes, we must. I'll keep you updated if we find additional information," Davenport said.
"Thank you, Sir Charles," Jack said.
Both men hung up, and Jack stared blankly at the wall before his desk. It felt like a cruel pattern—whenever one part of his life started to get better, another would unravel. The story of his life, he thought bitterly. He exhaled deeply and reached for the intercom, asking his secretary to connect him with Colonel Carter. He needed to update her on the latest developments. After that, he'd have to call Hank and break the news that the SGC might still be compromised—another mole, or even more, lurking inside besides Major Marcus Montague. The nightmare, it seemed, was far from over.