SGC - 1997

It would have been completely idiotic and stupid to say that she was jealous. Samantha Carter did not experience jealousy. Especially not over a man who hadn't bothered to say a single word when she left his family estate.

You don't get jealous over a fling; you get jealous over a man you love, and despite the stupid words they might have exchanged, Sam felt no feelings for Jack O'Neill.

Not at all.

Absolutely not.

Not in the slightest.

Nothing,

Rien, Nada, nichts, niet.

So, following this perfectly logical reasoning—because after all, the reasoning process of someone with an IQ over 140 can only be logical, right?

Samantha Carter was therefore not jealous of the woman standing in front of Jack, who had just taken his hand and placed it on her breasts and seemed to have bewitched him in the span of twenty seconds. For crying out loud, he had his hands on her own breasts just a few weeks ago, and he hadn't made such a big deal out of it. She almost rolled her eyes.

Captain Carter, on the other hand, was wondering when the men on the base would reconnect their brains and realize the problem in front of them.

And that wasn't jealousy; it was military common sense.

Exactly.

Because Daniel had just very seriously announced that she was a Goa'uld, and yet the General agreed to receive her in the briefing room. It wasn't jealousy, but you had to admit they were on the verge of a hidden camera prank at this point.

"General, Sir. I have a problem with this," she tried one last time as she stepped towards Hathor.

"You are an exceedingly beautiful woman," the Goa'uld noted, observing her.

Sam frowned, uncertain. "Thank you. So are you," she replied out of politeness. "General Hammond, I believe we should keep Miss Hathor under house arrest until we can better assess—"

"Don't be impolite, Captain," the General interrupted her.

"Impolite, Sir?! She's a Goa'uld," Sam repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. Hello, Earth? We have a problem? The program had just reopened, and they expected her to go have tea with a snake? For crying out loud!

Skirting insubordination, she tried to explain her feelings to the General. "Well, Sir, with respect, it seems that this woman has all of you guys under some spell or something."

"Are you questioning my orders, Captain?" the General asked, apparently irritated that she dared to rebel.

Sam swallowed slowly, contemplating whether she was willing to risk endangering a career for which she had given so much and sacrificed even more. "Yes, Sir, I guess I am."

In a final effort of common sense, she paused and hoped Jack would finally react. "Colonel O'Neill, are you gonna back me up on this?" she asked.

"Yes, Captain," he replied almost immediately, and Sam couldn't suppress a slight smile before losing any desire to smile altogether. "If I see that there's a problem," he added.

Samantha Carter was not jealous. No. However, she had also just very suddenly decided that this man would now be part of her past.

And so it was for purely military reasons, and nothing personal at all, that she followed him into the hallway to discuss it with him. But even there, she couldn't find the look she knew.

Was it because they needed to reestablish barriers between them? Was it because he felt relieved to be back at the SGC and no longer had to deal with the Sam who let her emotions show? Carter was much easier to manage. They both knew that.

"Have you ever heard the old saying, 'My enemy's enemy is my friend?'" Jack asked her, trying to justify everything that was happening.

"Yes, Sir," she replied immediately. "But even when the CIA grants sanctuary to an enemy turncoat, they never trust him. They watch him like a hawk."

Jack shrugged. "Daniel's watching her right now."

Sam exhaled another sigh and restrained herself from breaking his arm when he placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered a barely respectful "relax."

Great, now Jack thought she was jealous.

She was NOT jealous of a beautiful woman who had bewitched the man walking away down the hallway. Men thought with what was between their legs—she knew that.

She was just concerned about a Goa'uld, in the body of a beautiful woman, who had bewitched the man walking away down the hallway.

Those were two completely different things.

The military, on the other hand, were supposed to think with their brains, and Jack had received enough training not to fall for the first woman who came along. Although, between Kynthia and Hathor, the question was starting to arise. Maybe in this case, O'Neill was more interesting than Jack. Because one of them at least stuck to the rules.

But could she really talk and expect fidelity when they had stopped any form of relationship, hadn't promised anything, and hadn't talked about it since?