Sam crouched near the base of the Stargate, her tablet in hand, while the room buzzed with technicians running diagnostics.
Jack couldn't deny it any longer—working with Dr. Carter was both a privilege and a problem. Her intelligence was unmatched, her calm demeanor under pressure was admirable, and, frankly, her presence was... distracting.
He leaned against the console in the control room, watching her from a distance as she explained something to a group of technicians. Her hands gestured animatedly, her voice carrying that unmistakable blend of authority and passion. He didn't understand half of what she was saying, but that didn't matter. She fascinated him in ways he couldn't explain—or justify.
"So, Carter," he said, breaking the silence while stopping next to her. "Care to explain why our gate just tried to blow us to bits?"
Sam didn't look up, her fingers flying over the tablet. "It didn't try to blow us up, sir. The Gate experienced an overload due to a feedback loop in the energy grid. Essentially, the power supply and the naquadah within the Gate couldn't stabilize their output."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Feedback loop. Sure. Can you try that again, but in English this time?"
Sam giggled, setting the tablet down and turning to face him. "Alright. The Stargate operates by channeling massive amounts of energy into the ring to create a stable wormhole. When we dialed P3X-459, the energy required to establish the connection was unusually high—likely due to interference from a nearby celestial event. That excess energy reflected back into the Gate's internal systems."
Jack frowned. "So… the Gate got indigestion?"
Sam smirked. "Not a bad analogy. Think of it like trying to pour water into a glass that's already full. The energy had nowhere to go, so it began to backflow into the system, overloading the capacitors. If we hadn't shut it down, it could've caused a critical failure."
Jack winced. "Critical failure as in… boom?"
"Exactly." Sam returned to the tablet and tapped a few more commands. "The diagnostics are confirming my theory. A nearby pulsar must've emitted a surge of electromagnetic radiation at just the wrong moment. The Gate's systems couldn't filter it out fast enough, and it threw everything out of balance."
Jack straightened, stepping closer. "And how do we stop this from happening again?"
"We can recalibrate the Gate's energy dampening protocols to account for environmental fluctuations," Sam explained. "It's a bit like tuning a radio. If we adjust the frequency parameters, we can filter out the interference before it affects the system."
Jack nodded slowly, a hint of respect in his expression. "Sounds like a lot of work."
Sam shrugged. "Not really. The Gate's systems are remarkably adaptive. It's just a matter of telling it what to look for. I'll implement the changes once this diagnostic is complete."
Jack gave a small nod. "Alright, Carter. I trust you've got this handled. But next time, let's try to avoid the 'boom' scenario."
Sam couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, sir. I'll do my best to keep the Gate well-behaved."
Jack gave her a rare grin before heading toward the exit. "You're the expert, Carter. Don't let it go to your head."
As he walked away, Sam returned to her work, a satisfied smile lingering on her face. Despite his casual demeanor, she could tell that O'Neill was beginning to appreciate and respect her work, and she hoped to continue moving in that direction.
The following weeks flew by. Sam quickly familiarized herself with the base and made a few friends among the staff. She even developed a habit of eating lunch (when she remembered to take a break) with Daniel and Teal'c.
Sam enjoyed spending time with them but was consistently surprised when the General joined their table, exchanging jokes and casual conversation with the two men as if they had known each other forever.
Jack, for his part, had to admit he was feeling drawn to Catherine's replacement. Although he had struggled to accept his longtime friend's retirement, he now found himself quite pleased with the situation. Carter fascinated him. Beyond being stunning (being married didn't mean you couldn't look, right?), incredibly intelligent (her brain probably needed to be classified as a national asset), and sparking something inside him he couldn't quite explain.
"Meeting at O'Malley's tonight to watch the game?" Jack asked, setting his tray down at their usual table, once again surprised to find Dr. Carter sitting with them.
Daniel had explained that they'd known each other for years and that he was thrilled to have his friend at the SGC, which meant the two often spent a lot of time together.
Teal'c inclined his head in greeting. "I would be honored to share this moment with you, O'Neill," he replied in his deep voice.
"Oh, great! I was just about to suggest it!" Daniel announced, stabbing his fork into what appeared to be mashed potatoes.
Sam glanced nervously at Jack as he repeated the invitation. "Game? O'Malley's? Tonight?"
It wasn't that she didn't want to go—it would probably be fun—but the idea of spending the evening with him, outside the structure of the base, unsettled her. It felt... too personal. Too risky.
She forced a sheepish smile. "Oh." She took a slow breath. "That sounds great, but my dad's in town, and he hates hockey."
The excuse tumbled out before she could think it through. Jack frowned slightly, as though he didn't entirely believe he know I'm lying?she wondered, her pulse quickening. But before he could say anything, an urgent call pulled him away, leaving her to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
Walking away silently, Jack scratched his head, thinking. He had read Dr. Carter's file. Her father was the renowned General Jacob Carter—someone Jack knew well, as they'd served together for a few years. And, in fact, Jacob was the very man who had introduced him to ice hockey…
The days passed in a similar fashion, and every time the guys suggested an outing, Carter always had a solid excuse to decline. Either she had work to finish or was too tired, yet it felt like she simply preferred to go home. He'd also noticed how she could get so absorbed in her work that she forgot to eat, but she never failed to leave the base at a reasonable hour.
He briefly thought that she was probably sharing her life with someone, and even though her hands were devoid of any jewelry, it didn't mean there wasn't a lucky someone out there.
Sam, for her part, had learned to work efficiently at the SGC, especially with the cutting-edge technology at her disposal. Yet, despite the effort she poured into her work, she couldn't ignore her regular encounters with General O'Neill. Whether it was during meals, where he always sat next to her, in meetings, where he seemed increasingly attentive to her explanations, or even when he found excuses to stop by her office, Jack O'Neill was gradually becoming a key part of her daily life—someone she found herself enjoying spending time with.
It felt as though an invisible force was drawing her toward him.
One morning after a meeting, she once again found herself working alongside the General. Their eyes met several times, and she felt her heart race with each exchange. She couldn't suppress the warmth that spread through her whenever he spoke to her. He was always so relaxed, always with that hint of humor in his voice. And though it seemed easy to respond to him in kind, Sam knew there was a depth behind his words.
"You seem to be finding your footing here," he remarked, stopping for a moment to observe her calm demeanor.
"Just doing my best," she replied, almost distractedly.
"You seem to be handling it all pretty effortlessly." He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I'm impressed."
"I suppose it's in my genes," she quipped, a fleeting smile appearing on her lips.
"General Carter is your father, isn't he?" he asked with a smile and Sam briefly wondered just how well he knew her father. "Well, I guess I'll see you around," Jack finally said as he started to walk away, but he turned back briefly before leaving. "You still haven't told me when you'll finally join us for an outing."
"Maybe another time," she replied, but this time she couldn't help but smile. There was something in his expression that suggested he wasn't planning to give up on the idea so easily.
Jack's house was quiet, the evening shadows gently enveloping the rooms, with only a few dim lights illuminating the dark corners. The soft clink of a cup being set down on the table broke the silence as Sara sat across from her husband, her hands clasped together. She had taken the time to prepare a simple but comforting dinner, hoping it might ease the tension that had become a constant in their daily lives. Yet, despite the surface normalcy of the scene, there was an undeniable distance between them.
Jack sat at the dinner table, his eyes fixed on his plate, but his mind was elsewhere. The sounds of the house, the beams of light filtering through the curtains—all of it felt far away. Sara had been talking for a few minutes, sharing details about her day, but he had barely listened. His thoughts were occupied with another face, another voice echoing in his mind.
Dr. Samantha Carter.
He felt guilty, almost like a teenager caught in a forbidden daydream. He had always respected Sara, had always loved her in his own way, but something within him—a part he couldn't quite explain—was irresistibly drawn to Carter. It wasn't just her intelligence or her strength of character, but something far more… personal. The attraction he felt for her was undeniable, yet he couldn't bring himself to admit it, even to himself. He felt like a man split between two worlds, two realities.
As Sara cleared the plates from dinner, she glanced at Jack, sitting silently at the table. His shoulders were slouched, his gaze distant. He had always been a quiet man, but this was different—this silence felt heavier, more deliberate.
For weeks now, she had felt him slipping further away. They hadn't been close in years, not since Charlie's death, but at least they had shared their grief. Now, even that seemed like a memory from another life.
She set the plates in the sink and turned to him. "Jack," she said softly, trying to catch his eye. "I need you to talk to me. You've been... distant."
He looked up, startled, as if realizing for the first time that she was still in the room. "Sorry, Sara," he muttered. "Work's been... complicated."
Sara nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. She wanted to believe him, but the hollow tone of his voice told her there was more he wasn't are you hiding, Jack?she thought, her chest tightening. But she didn't press him. Not yet.
She moved to his side, placing a light hand on his arm. "I know it's been a while… I know things haven't been easy between us." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "But you know, I need you to be here. To really be here, with me."
A pang of guilt shot through him. She wasn't saying it outright, but he knew what she meant. Their marriage was crumbling, slowly, like an old book losing its pages one by one. Charlie's death had left a void, a chasm, and as the years went by, they found themselves living side by side without truly speaking. They should have divorced years ago, but Sara couldn't find the courage to leave, clinging to the memory of her son by any means possible.
Jack lowered his eyes, unable to respond. He felt as though he stood at a crossroads, torn between the obligation to honor his marriage and the budding desire he felt for someone else. Sam's image came back to him again, vivid and clear, like a beacon cutting through the fog of his thoughts. Her blue eyes, her reserved yet warm smile, her determination, her beauty. She didn't seem to need him, yet every interaction, every exchange, sent a thrill through him he could no longer ignore.
"I'm here, Sara," he finally said, his voice weary. "I'm here." But the words felt hollow, false, even to him. He could hear the echo of his own voice betraying him.