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 Finding Faith Part 3 Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, a couple of weeks earlier: Daniel Jackson arrived at the Academy without calling ahead first to tell Jack he was coming, or to check his whereabouts. He knew where his old friend was meant to be, at the SGC going over his training plans with General Landry and a few other important people, including Sam. They were all angry about his failure to appear and Daniel wondered what could be so important that Jack had missed the appointment, so he'd decided to pay a house call to find out. Woolsey was up in arms about Jack's discourtesy, making all manner of threatening noises about the Oversight Committee and talking about pulling the plug on a certain retired general's increased involvement with the SGC. Daniel knew that, with a little tact, diplomacy and schmoozing, the man's ruffled feathers could be smoothed. The reasons behind Jack's failure to be there, however, might play an important part in smoothing them. After some enquires, he found himself standing in front of a closed door, poised to knock and enter. Pressing his ear against the door, he could hear the low hum of a voice, but learned nothing about what was going on beyond. So he decided to risk it, rapping on the door, opening it, and poking his head around. Jack looked up and frowned, annoyed at the disturbance. He was sitting close to a young cadet who appeared to be very upset. "Daniel? So not a good time," Jack said with barely suppressed anger, the flash in his eyes more pointed than his tone. "Sorry. I-I... you missed an appointment," Daniel ventured, aware Jack could bite his head off. He'd disturbed something important; he could see that with his own eyes. "I know, but I'm a bit tied up right now with something way more important. Give me some time. Meet you in the commissary?" Daniel nodded and withdrew, leaving Jack to finish whatever he'd started. On his way to the commissary he considered the changes wrought on the original SG-1 team members and their friendship over the previous weeks, since Jack had appeared back in their lives. They'd grown close again, and Daniel was pleased with that outcome, although he never had got to the bottom of why Jack had pushed them all away in the first place - figured maybe he never would now but wasn't sure he cared anymore. Jack was back and that's what counted. When Sam had outlined her plans to get Jack more involved, and back at the SGC in some capacity, Daniel had supported her wholeheartedly, fighting in her corner at every opportunity. When Jack had been in DC, his appearances back at the SGC had brightened a bleakness left behind when he'd gone. His total absence had been difficult for all of them, and for more than just the original members of SG-1. Many SGC members had respected and admired the hell out of Jack, and many of them missed him when he'd gone. Landry was a good man, and a decent commander, but it wasn't the same without Jack hanging around the place. His absence had left a hole in many hearts. Daniel, therefore, greeted the idea of getting him back in some small way with Dr Jackson like enthusiasm. A sprinkle of O'Neill could do wonders to the place, when he was in a good mood that is. But one had to take the rough with the smooth because the smooth was so worth it. Daniel had learned that lesson very early on in his dealings with Jack, and he wasn't the only one, not by a very long way. Upon reaching the commissary he got a coffee, immediately spying some chocolate cake that looked very much like the cake Jack had brought for Sam on the night of their reunion. So this was their little secret? He got two pieces, one to try and one for Jack, and found a place to sit and contemplate while he waited for his friend. Having seen the clearly distraught cadet, Daniel's mind ranged over what might have happened to stop Jack from making it to the SGC. He was tossing up between Jack telling the young guy off for something in that inimitable O'Neill manner, or giving comfort to one of his students in a time of need. Daniel came out in favor of the latter. Jack might be emotionally anally retentive at times, but he could be pretty good at that comfort thing in his own quiet way, particularly with youngsters. Jack could be very protective and if that had been one of his students, this was probably exactly what he was being. His friend would consider that way more important than a 'trivial' meeting at the SGC, which could be rearranged at a more suitable time. He felt the presence before he saw the shadow, and looked up to see Jack looming over him. "More coffee, Daniel?" he asked and then, seeing the cake, his face grew into a huge grin. "You got me chocolate cake? Cool!" Without waiting for a response, he stalked off, to return a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee. Jack placed the coffee on the table and sat down opposite Daniel. "Am I in trouble?" he asked. "When aren't you in trouble? Trouble is your middle name," Daniel replied with a smile. "I seem to have a lot of middle names," Jack quipped and Daniel's smile broadened into a grin. "What happened?" he asked. "One of my students. His mother died in an accident. Hit and run. Poor kid." A sorrowful expression darkened his features as he spoke. "Thought it must be something important. You didn't even call." "It didn't seem right to interrupt to make a call. Jackson is pretty upset." "Jackson?" "No relation I assume," Jack said with one of his quirky smiles, immediately brightening the darkness that had lurked there before. "How much trouble am I in?" he asked sheepishly. "Landry is pretty pissed, but Woolsey went ballistic." "I can handle it." Daniel was surprised to note Jack's apparent lack of concern. "He's threatening to get you thrown out." Jack merely chuckled. "I don't think so," he said in that sarcastic O'Neill manner he had, eyeing the cake with glee and taking a bite. "Woolsey's okay and he kind of likes me. Some minor grovelling should do the trick. Think I can pull it off?" he asked, mouth filled with melting chocolate. "I'm beginning to believe you can pull almost anything off. Woolsey should be a cinch." "You've known me for all these years and you're just beginning to think I can pull almost anything off?" Jack said in a joking manner, making Daniel laugh. "You sure have pulled off more than your fair share of miracles over the years, Jack." "You too. Haven't we all? That's what we did, wasn't it?" Daniel merely grinned and started on his own piece of cake, taking a bite and making appropriate noises that demonstrated his appreciation. "Wow, that's good cake!" he exclaimed once he'd swallowed the bite, "So this is what you and Sam have been keeping a secret, huh?" "Wouldn't you keep such a cake secret? Wouldn't want everyone finding out now, would we? There'd be none left." "I'm sure you could persuade them to keep you a piece, just like you used to at the SGC." "In those days I could order them to keep me a piece." The men sat in companionable silence while they both munched on their slices of cake. Once finished Jack removed his cell phone from his jacket. "Think I should call Hank, don't you?" "Probably a good idea. When you explain, I'm sure he'll understand." Jack took a while to get through and then even longer apologising and explaining his absence to his old friend Hank Landry, who rescheduled the meeting for later that day, before Woolsey could decide to leave Cheyenne Mountain to return to DC. "Think you should call Sam?" Daniel queried once Jack had completed finished the call. "Is she pissed too?" Jack said with a wince. "What do you think? Jack, if only you realised how much hard work she's put into persuading some of the sceptics to give this whole idea a chance. She's worked her butt off." "Really? I didn't know. She never said anything." Jack's apparent ignorance of the situation only served to irritate Daniel. "She never did say anything, did she? You always took it for granted. But she always did it anyway." Jack was taken aback by Daniel's comment. "You think I never appreciated her enough? I always appreciated her," he argued defensively. "You never told her that very often, if at all." "I didn't have to. I was her CO. She was doing her job." Although Jack said that, he was starting to feel an uncomfortable guilt. Daniel had such a bad habit of pointing out Jack's bad habits. It was damned annoying. A couple of cadets approached close to their table and Daniel said nothing until they had squeezed by, acknowledging Jack as they passed. "You know she often did a whole hell of a lot more than just her job," he then responded, getting slightly irked on their friend's behalf. Jack sighed heavily, accepting the truth of Daniel's words. "You think she expected more gratitude?" "I doubt it, or maybe sometimes, but you should have given it anyway. She would have appreciated it I'll bet." "I'll be back," Jack replied enigmatically, abruptly rising from his chair and stalking off. When he returned he had two more cups of coffee and was holding something wrapped in aluminum, which he placed in front of Daniel. "Give her that from me, okay?" "Chocolate cake?" Daniel queried and Jack nodded. "You'll be coming to the SGC later. Why don't you give it to her yourself? Apologise in person." "I haven't got anything to apologise for, Daniel. I did the right thing. Jackson came to me, I couldn't turn him away, now, could I?" Daniel nodded agreement almost imperceptibly. "I guess not. I still think you should be the one to give it to her. Isn't it time you did something about you two?" Jack shot him a killing look. "That subject is not up for discussion," he said fiercely. "For Christ's sake, Jack, I just want to see two of my friends happy," Daniel snapped back irately. "Let's not get into an argument about it," Jack said more calmly, trying to diffuse what could so easily turn into an explosive Jack/Daniel argument. He didn't really want one of those any time of day, never mind about right there in the Academy commissary in front of some of his students. "Why not?" countered Daniel. "You're such a pig-headed, short sighted son of an Irishman about her, Jack." "That's a little unfair." He was trying to maintain his equilibrium but was annoyed. "We're good friends. It's more than enough and way more than I deserve." "Don't tell me you don't want more than that." Daniel's tone was close to accusatorial and Jack picked at the crumbs of cake left on his plate so he could force his eyes away from Daniel's. "Wanting and doing are two entirely different species of animal," he said in a low tone, and Daniel leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, realising how fruitless a public argument would be, and how embarrassing for Jack, which would do nothing to help anyone. "Does it ever occur to you to think about what she might want?" "I don't know what she wants but I'm not going to do anything to jeopardise our friendship. It means a lot to me," Jack said earnestly. "If you're worried she'll reject you then you're a bigger idiot than I give you credit for. Or maybe you're more worried about what will happen if she doesn't reject you. Is that it?" Daniel watched Jack's face and manner carefully and could see he'd hit the nail on the head. "For a man who has lived his life taking risks, that's one hell of a lot of caution, Jack." "I told you I don't want to talk about this," Jack said in a warning tone, although he was wondering what Daniel actually knew of Sam's thoughts on the subject or what he simply surmised. "Okay, have it your way." Daniel said resignedly, biting back a number of snappy retorts that entered his head and deciding he'd probably said enough for now. Maybe Jack would think about it. "Look, I should probably go. What about Jackson?" "He went to pack some things. His aunt is coming to pick him up. Not surprisingly, the father is too distraught to come for him." "I guess at least he's got his dad." It was then Jack recalled how Daniel had lost both his parents at the same time. That must have been one hell of a blow. "Yep, he's got his dad," Jack agreed with a nod, turning a sympathetic eye on Daniel as he knew he was thinking about his own loss. "You okay?" he asked. "Sure, fine." "Walk you to the parking lot?" Jack asked with a smile, thinking it was getting to be a habit with one or other of his old teammates. "Wanna make sure I leave the premises?" Daniel replied with a small smile. "Something like that." The two men walked in silence towards Daniel's car, until they reached it. "Has she said anything to you?" Jack asked, unable to resist the temptation to ask a question that had been on his mind since Daniel had raised the issue of his relationship with Sam. Daniel was surprised by the question, and the unexpected return to a subject Jack claimed he didn't want to talk about. "Not much, but we talk some, sure," Daniel replied cautiously. He didn't want to betray anything Sam might have considered as a confidence. "Jack, you'd have to be blind and deaf not to realise what she wants." It was Jack's turn to be surprised. "Bullshit! Guess I'm both blind and deaf then." "No you're not. You just don't want to see it because it scares the crap out of you." He opened the car door, thinking the conversation was over, but Jack surprised him again. "You're right," he admitted, and Daniel stilled, eyebrows shooting towards the heavens. "I'm right?" he repeated, disbelieving of Jack's capitulation. "Yeah, you're right. Surprised?" Jack's face bore an ironical smile. "You might say that." "I'll think about what you've said, Daniel." "You will?" "Thanks." Daniel was thinking Jack was full of surprises today. "Thanks?" he queried. "For being a friend." "I, um... you're welcome." For once Daniel was slightly lost for words, but the smile on his face said a lot, and Jack returned it with one of his own. "See you at the SGC later?" "Yeah, see you later," Daniel replied and watched his friend walk back to the building before he eventually got into the car and drove away. ***************************** SGC, later that day: Jack reached the SGC early and immediately made his way to the place he figured Sam would be, in her lab. "Knock, knock," he said, lurking in the doorway. "Jack!" she looked up, greeting him with a warm and welcoming smile, "Um, come in sir," she added, remembering what they had said about how they should address each other in the confines of the mountain. He entered and sauntered towards her. "I'm sorry about this morning. Daniel explained?" "Yes. I understand. It's okay." "I should have called. Peace offering, apology, call it what you will." He handed her the cake still wrapped in its aluminum and she smiled, reaching to take it from him. As her hand touched his he grasped it, taking her by surprise. "I don't think I ever thanked you," he said. "For what?" She looked puzzled. "For everything. Everything you've done over the years. All the hard work. The comradeship. Saving my butt many times. Keeping me sane. All of it." "Oh! I-I, there's no need to thank me, sir." "Yes, there is. I'd never have made it through without you." She looked awkward and embarrassed, squirming uncomfortably under his relentless gaze, and when she tried to extricate her hand from his grasp Jack refused to let go. Instead he raised it to his lips and briefly kissed it. Sam shivered with anticipation, but then he released it. "Somehow, I don't think cake is enough," he said with a cheeky grin. "If it's chocolate cake it might be," she replied jauntily, still trying to recover from the all too brief intimate moment. "Of course it's chocolate cake. Nothing else would be good enough." "Wanna share?" she offered, unwrapping his gift with a flourish. "I bought it for you." "I don't mind sharing. It's a large piece." "You're sure?" In response she broke off a piece and stood up to face him, moving her hand towards his mouth, urging him to open it and placing the cake inside with her fingers. Grabbing her wrist before she could remove the hand, Jack captured her eyes. "Half of it's still on your fingers," he said, taking the tips of her fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. Sam gasped, closing her eyes, and Jack regarded her momentarily, drinking in her rapt expression before removing the hand and placing an arm around her back to pull her close. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I've been a total jerk," he said as he swayed her gently in his arms. Still uncertain about his intentions, she took a chance and leaned closer into him, one of her hands reaching to stroke his neck. When he reacted by kneading her back, she spoke, more confident of his purpose. "Not a total jerk. Just a bit of one." "Why are you interested in a such a jerk?" he asked. "He's a very handsome and charming jerk." "Handsome and charming?" he queried with a self-deprecating laugh. "You're kidding, right?" Jack started to pull back, but Sam clung to him. "Just a moment more, please Jack," she said, and they held onto each other for a good while longer. No kisses, no promises, no plans, no words - just a huge honkin' hug, complete with bells and whistles. By the time they got to the rescheduled meeting Jack had to suck Woolsey's ass in a big way, but it was so worth it. ***************************** On P4X-928: Jack was still angry and upset about what Stephen had put him through but was quietly determined to try and keep those feelings to himself. Not for Stephen's sake, but for his colleagues, and Earth. The trainees needed reassurance and he had promised he was okay, so he had to be okay. Showing them anything to indicate he wasn't would be poor leadership and crap for morale. As for Earth, as he wasn't sure about the intentions of these aliens, he needed more information to determine them. He didn't want to jeopardise the security of his planet for selfish reasons. That wasn't the Jack O'Neill way. "I, um, hope you don't mind me asking, but are you guys human?" he asked out of the blue and Sam looked at him askance. Jack might not be the diplomatic type but he phrased the question much less bluntly than he might have in the past, particularly in the present circumstances. He'd changed, evolved, but hadn't they all? Stephen smiled, unperturbed by the question. "You mean are we the same species as you?" he asked and Jack nodded. "I think perhaps we are. The Goa'uld took us from our home world many hundreds of years ago. I saw them in your thoughts - what they did to humans. It was the same with us. I suppose you are wondering how we can be the same species when most of these peoples you have encountered have been primitive and we are so advanced. We had good teachers. The saviours of my people." "Oh?" Sam prodded. "You have heard them spoken of but have never met them. The Furlings." Jack and Sam looked at each other and then at Stephen. "The Furlings? They rescued you from the Goa'uld?" Sam asked in wide-eyed amazement. This was the first encounter they'd ever had with humans who had met the Furlings. "Yes, Colonel Carter, and they taught my people many things before they left us." "The Furlings, huh?" Jack asked rhetorically. "So, were those guys cute and fuzzy?" "No, Jack O'Neill, they were not like the, um, Ewoks in Star Wars movies," Stephen responded with a small chuckle. Jack was taken aback and disturbed that the man had dug that image out of his mind. It proved the depth of detail Stephen knew about him. "Ack! Another illusion shattered," Jack joked, covering his deep distress at having his thoughts known to this man. He felt exposed and vulnerable and didn't like it one little bit. "It makes you uncomfortable that I can conjure such detail from my walk in your thoughts?" Stephen asked. 'Go figure!' Jack thought but said nothing, merely meeting the alien's gaze unflinchingly and hiding his fear. "Do not be alarmed. Your secrets and dreams are safe with me, Jack O'Neill." "I sure hope that's true." Sensing Jack's well-hidden but understandable disquiet Sam butted in, trying to draw them away from that thorny subject. "What were the Furlings like, Stephen?" she asked. "A great race, but I think that is a story for another time." "We're curious..." she pressed. "Of this I am aware, but I cannot discuss the Furlings further at this time. I am sorry." "Okay, how about this? Humans can't read minds," Jack commented thoughtfully. "How can you have developed that ability?" "It is not a natural ability, Jack O'Neill. We make it happen with a mixture of technology and drugs." While they talked, Sam had been keeping a watchful eye on activity in the cavern. A thought occurred and she made one of her intuitive, although informed, leaps. "A drug made from a plant? That's it isn't it? Bet you can't grow it on your own home world or you wouldn't have to come here. That is what this place is, isn't it?" Sam asked after some consideration. "You make the drug here. It comes from plants on this planet." Stephen nodded. "You are right, Jack O'Neill, she is a very clever woman. Beauty and brains is indeed a fascinating combination. I understand why you admire her so greatly." Jack winced that Stephen openly relayed his thoughts about Sam right in front of her. So much for keeping his secrets and dreams safe, although he wasn't sure it very much mattered anymore. She probably already knew how he felt, but the pair were taking things so slow they were nearly standing still, so nothing was a given as far as Jack was concerned. He wasn't happy about such exposure. If anyone was going to expose anything about his feelings for Sam it should be him. The alien leader, however, was unaware of his discomfort and spoke to Sam. "That is why your people must never come to this planet again, Colonel Carter. You must delete its address from the dialling computer of your Stargate. You are not ready for such a thing. Now we know it has been discovered, we will post a permanent guard here to protect this place from the unwary or greedy. We cannot allow the Furling's gift to be misused or abused." "The Furling's gift?" Sam asked. "One of many," he responded to her, but turned back to face Jack. "Can you make a promise on behalf of your people that you will not come here again, Jack O'Neill?" "I can't speak for my superiors." "Of this I am aware, but I trust that you can persuade them. They will listen to you. Your superiors risk making us an enemy if they fail to listen to your wisdom." Jack nodded agreement. "I promise I'll try." In Jack's humble opinion the occupants of his home world should keep well away from these aliens - people who forcibly read minds and didn't mind hurting someone to do it. That was wrong on so many levels. He'd do way more than just try. "Then that is good enough for me." It seemed there were some small advantages to having his mind read. Didn't mean he liked it, but at least Stephen knew what he was like as a person, and he'd made a judgement call about trust. The ever-cautious Jack wished he could have the same confidence in Stephen and he picked at his food thoughtfully, while the others remained silent too. The four trainees hadn't dared open their mouths, merely listening and taking everything in - and hopefully learning something as well. Jack had decided a while back that Taylor had to learn there was more to this job than using the barrel of your gun and he hoped he was taking mental notes. There was some promise there but only if the young man could learn to calm that gung-ho attitude he sported. He should probably be a Marine. Thompson would be fine, although in Jack's opinion put way too much faith in him. He could feel the boy's adoring eyes boring into him and realised this experience would probably encourage the schoolboy-like crush further. Thompson, however, was pretty astute. More of a Jackson than an O'Neill, which was nothing to sniff at in Jack's humble opinion, even though Daniel could be a severe pain in the ass at times. Velasquez could be mouthy, and sometimes seemed slow on the uptake, despite being bright. Jack figured she never forgot a lesson once learned, although she might have to learn some of them the hard way. As for Fletcher, Jack was hesitant to hazard an opinion. The young man was quiet as a church mouse, but seemed to soak up everything like a sponge. Jack made a mental note to ask Sam what she thought and how he'd behaved as one of the team of 'hounds'. "Why do you use ships? Why don't you travel here by Stargate?" Major Smith asked, speaking for the first time since they'd sat down to eat. Good question, Jack thought. He didn't know either Smith or Alexander very well, although Sam had vouched for both. Her word was good enough for Jack. He looked towards Stephen as he replied. "Although not created by them, the Stargate system became a symbol of the Goa'uld, who oppressed and enslaved us until the Furlings intervened. We have not had a gate on our world for many years, and have no desire to travel through them. We have ships that are more than adequate to take us wherever we wish. Fast, agile ships. And the Goa'uld have never bothered us for years, nor are they likely to now, it seems. The Council were pleased to learn that the two of you played a major role in their defeat," he said, smiling at Jack and Sam. "So, is there a mothership waiting up there in orbit around this planet?" Smith queried, pressing for more information, more intelligence. "The small vessels we arrived in are more than adequate for our purposes." The simple answer told them a lot. Either the alien's planet was close, or the ships were very advanced to be that small and travel huge distances. The tone of Stephen's reply made him suspect the latter. Useful intel to have, although Jack wasn't yet sure what use they'd make of it. Smith continued to ask Stephen about their ships and Jack took the opportunity of the alien's distraction to whisper to Sam. "Am I doing okay?" "You're doing great." "Not bad considering I'd like to kill the guy?" He winked but she realised there was more than a mere element of truth in those words. She frowned and he continued. "I just want to get us out of here in one piece. If I have to make nice to do it I will." "Diplomatic O'Neill?" "Old dogs can learn new tricks and I learned a few in DC, and at the Academy." "I think he expects you to loathe him, Jack. If he read your mind he must have an inkling of how you'd feel about it." "Think he expects me to kill him?" Sam narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Like me, he knows you well enough to realise that you'd never risk the rest of us just to get revenge." "Well, to be honest, I hadn't thought of that." He smirked to indicate he was kidding, as if Sam didn't already realise that. Then Jack drifted, apparently deep in thought. There was something he had to ask, albeit it reluctantly. Too many bad memories, but he had to know. He took the chance during a lull in the conversation. "When I woke up down here I couldn't move. What was that? Some kind of gravity device?" Stephen noted Jack's uneasiness at asking the question and knew his reasons for that very well. Images of O'Neill's torture and despair flashed though his mind - trapped in a gravity field like a fly in a spider's web, unable to move or help himself in any way as he suffered agony after agony, death after death, only to be brought back to life to suffer all over again. No man should have to live through such a thing. The notion was unbearable to Stephen, whose response was soft toned and sympathetic. "I am afraid it was. I am sorry to have caused you so much pain, and raised those memories in you once more." Jack nodded a response and Stephen leaned in to whisper in his ear so the others couldn't hear. "You have suffered much, lost much, and despaired much and most of the time fought hard to live through it all, Jack O'Neill. "Your instinct for survival is admirable, as is your overwhelming desire to protect and willingness to sacrifice yourself to do so, despite that instinct. If you listen to and obey your heart after all this time, you can be a much happier and less solitary man. You should allow yourself to live, not merely survive." Stephen's eyes turned to look at Samantha Carter and back to Jack, who was unable to stand up to that knowing gaze. The man knew way too much. 'All right already,' he thought, 'I'm working on it!' But Stephen's words made him realise it was time to take the relationship with Sam to another level, way beyond that hug of understanding a couple of weeks before. Jack wondered why Stephen was telling him this? Why did he give a damn? And it suddenly occurred to Jack that Stephen did give a damn. He'd rummaged in Jack's head and the man cared. He began to think he might have misjudged these people. Jack didn't like thinking it, didn't want to think it, but he thought it nonetheless. Stephen observed Jack's continuing disquiet and understood very well what the man might be thinking about the intrusion into his private world. "Do not be alarmed that I know your thoughts and dreams. In all likelihood we will never meet again, and I will never use them against you." He hoped Jack would be reassured but when he peered into the man's face realised the words hadn't helped alleviate his trepidation and resentment. Stephen thought it was unfortunate that such a man had to suffer his invasion and, because of what he had seen in Jack's mind, wondered if the woman might have accepted it with more equanimity. Too late now, he could not change the past. Meanwhile, although Jack had stopped eating a long time before, had hardly touched anything in fact, he was playing with the leftovers on his plate, feeling awkward and needing the distraction. Stephen decided he should attempt to avoid referring to Jack's thoughts and feelings, which only served to remind the man of something he would probably rather bury in those dark recesses of his mind. And some of those recesses were very dark indeed, which Stephen found both disturbing and fascinating. The human psyche as experienced by Jack O'Neill would make an interesting topic and he thought he might try to write about it when he returned home. His people would remember Jack O'Neill, and Stephen thought that fitting for such a man. When the time came for their races to become friends, his name would be known, although the man himself would probably be long gone. Stephen would ensure he was not forgotten, even if his own people didn't. There was much Stephen was not telling Jack and the others about his people. It would be wrong to reveal too much. These humans probably assumed his entire race could read minds with the aid of drugs and technology. This was not so, but the humans could not be made aware if that. Stephen was in a privileged position on his home world, one of only a small percentage of the population who possessed the capability. The percentage grew, and one day the ability might be more commonplace, as might the other unique abilities possessed by his race. The humans were unaware of them and would remain so. "Excuse me Mr Stephen, sir, but may I ask what your race is called, and your planet?" This time it was Lieutenant Alexander who asked the question. "It is simply Stephen, not Mr Stephen," Stephen corrected, "but of course. My people are called Krustians and the planet on which we dwell is Boldera. It is very far from here." "Is it a long journey?" Alexander pressed. "Long enough." There followed a lengthy exchange between the diners during which Jack and the rest tried to glean as much information from Stephen about the Krustians and Boldera as possible, and Stephen deftly sidestepped the questions he did not think it wise to answer. Jack was vaguely amused to witness the ingenious way the alien evaded answering questions that would reveal too much and thought even he could learn from it. As far as he was concerned, he'd got what he needed to know from the conversation. That was, of course, if anything Stephen said could be trusted. Jack figured the alien was right, he needed a little faith even if he hadn't thought he'd got much of that left. His earlier realization that Stephen cared had changed Jack's perspective slightly and he found he was more open to finding faith. It seemed the Krustians were not a race of warmongers or conquerors. Nor did they use the Furlings gift for evil ends. Jack's personal experience of that gift might be negative, but Stephen described how it was used to help people on his home world, soothing their nightmares and insanities. Jack ironically thought he could do with a little of that treatment himself, although no way in hell would he willingly undergo it. If anything, the Krustians appeared more concerned that the people of Earth might be the aggressors. This is one reason Stephen's people didn't believe they were ready to be friends. Jack had to suppress an urge to laugh out loud when he realised this. He was pleased he could feel like laughing. Although they had stopped eating a long time ago, the party had remained seated at the table while they talked. Given his recent thoughts Jack was warily relaxed, if there could be such a thing - and if there was, he could be it. Sam had been watching him closely and was relieved by what she'd observed of his apparent state of mind, although she realised Jack was a master of subterfuge. She thought he might almost be described as sanguine, although that might be stretching it a bit. Even the trainees had started to loosen up, one or two of them venturing to open their mouths without putting their feet in it when they did. "I hope you will speak well of us when you return to Earth," Stephen said. "So you are letting us go home then?" Jack asked, seeking confirmation. "Of course! Why wouldn't we?" "Just making sure. You said we were your prisoners," Jack responded pointedly. "So I did, but I also told you many times we wish you no harm. I want your people to think well of us, so I hope you will feel able to present a good report of our conduct when you return, despite the unpleasant experience we put you through, Jack O'Neill." 'Unpleasant? Sheesh, that's what I'd call an understatement!' Jack thought but he nodded, no sign of emotion on his face. "I'm thinking about it. Does this mean it's time for us to go?" "It is nearly time." "I guess it is." He glanced at his watch. "We're overdue and the folks back home will be starting to get antsy." "And of course they would send more of you on what you call a search and rescue?" "Yep. I'm pretty sure you don't want that to happen. I don't want it to happen either. We'll probably be in enough trouble when we get back." Jack was concerned about the impact on the training program, and his active involvement. He turned towards Sam. "What do you think, Carter?" "I think we ought to get the kids home, sir." "I meant about the trouble we might be in." He gave her a wry smile and she grinned back reassuringly. "We'll work it out." He said nothing and looked at Stephen expectantly. "What about our stuff?" he asked. The alien paused for thought. "I am reluctant to provide you with a weapon, Jack O'Neill. My walk in your mind showed me how lethal you can be." "In that case you know I could wreak a fair bit of damage with these if I wanted to," Jack replied holding up his hands. "Not before my men stopped you." 'Wanna bet?' Jack thought coldly but didn't say. "I thought we'd made peace," he said aloud. "And so we have, but I do not want to place temptation in your path. We will return the weapons and other equipment to you at the gate." Jack nodded acquiescence because, in reality, he had no choice. Besides, Stephen was doing the right thing. Jack wouldn't have given himself a weapon if he'd read his mind either. Stephen ushered them towards the elevator, which Jack mounted with some trepidation, declining to look down on the way up. It was a long way down, although Stephen assured him it was impossible to fall. It had something to do with gravity and anti-gravity, which Sam happily discussed with the alien leader as they rose. Jack tuned out. When they reached the gate, Jack viewed his surroundings wistfully, wondering whether this would be his last off-world trip. When considered in this light, the eerie P4X-928 suddenly seemed like a magical place. The previously oppressive pink, green and dark grey sky was spectacular and he said as much to Sam as she dialled Earth and sent the signal. She agreed, saddened that they would never see this planet again. The gate stood on a pathway out on the lake, and the small group of humans walked towards it, turning before entering the event horizon to give a final farewell to Stephen, who bowed. Then they were gone and Stephen sighed regretfully, having enjoyed the company of Jack O'Neill and his companions. He longed to see the planet Jack saw in his head but knew he never would. Despite his cynicism, Jack loved his home world and saw much beauty and good there, so Stephen did too. With those thoughts, the alien turned and walked away, back to his duties and the mundane. ***************************** The SGC, later that day: Jack just wanted to get home to his own bed to sleep, hopeful he might get through eight hours without being woken by nightmares - if he was lucky. Not having slept for hours, he was tired, but there was still a lot to do before he could leave the mountain. The initial medical checks and debriefings seemed to take an age and Jack realised this was probably only the start of it. While the group of recently returned travellers dawdled in the infirmary waiting to be given a clean bill of health, the trainees clamoured for Jack's attention, although clamoured might not be quite the right word to describe their relatively quiet and respectful approaches. Amused, Sam was tempted to tell them to form an orderly queue for his autograph. Patiently, Jack talked to them for a while and Sam was awed by how he handled them. She knew Jack must be tired and wishing he could just get home to lick his wounds alone. It was the Jack O'Neill way and it worried her, but she doubted he would welcome her interference. Although this time, Sam was determined he wouldn't push her out. She'd give him some O'Neill time if that was what he wanted - for a while. She dreaded to think what was going on inside his head, but he made time for the small group of trainees, putting them at ease when he probably wasn't. Once they were dismissed from the infirmary, Sam broke up the group to let Jack have some peace so he could shower and change before the debrief, but Taylor contrived to stay behind. "General O'Neill, sir?" he ventured warily, fidgeting awkwardly. "You want to ask me something, Taylor?" "Um, I'm sorry sir." Jack was puzzled by the apology. "What? What for?" "I, um," he looked a little pained and eyed Sam. "Um, oh nothing sir," he continued, apparently losing his nerve and suddenly looking like this was the last place on Earth he wanted to be. "Carter?" Jack queried with a quirky eyebrow, wondering if she knew what it was all about. "With all due respect, you really don't want to know, sir" she said, suppressing a small smirk and taking pity on the young trainee. "Another time, Taylor. The general has a meeting now. Dismissed." "Yes ma'am," he said in a gratified tone, turning tail and leaving quickly. "What the hell was that all about?" "Like I said, you really don't wanna know." Jack peered at her curiously and then shrugged. At that moment he was too tired to give a damn. "Okay, I'll take your word for it. Think I need to hit the showers." "Me too. Look's like you've got yourself a small fan club," she said. "Oy!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up in a flicker of a smile. Feeling more refreshed after his shower and change of clothes, Jack joined Sam, Smith and Alexander for the debrief. The verbal reports were greeted with some dismay, along with concern for Jack's welfare, which being O'Neill he tried to dismiss casually. He didn't fool anyone but they played along with him, for now. Sam caught the look of deep concern on Landry's furrowed brow and an exchange of glances told her they'd be having a private discussion about Jack real soon. Landry wouldn't just ignore what had happened to his old friend, that much was clear. The negative fallout O'Neill had anticipated was not immediately forthcoming but, once reports reached DC, he was pretty sure that would change. Jack knew how those guys' minds worked. He figured the next few days were going to be filled to capacity with reports and post-mortems, as well as the planned trainee assessments, and had no doubt he'd be referred for counselling just to add to his headaches. Wondering how he was going to fit all of that into his scheduled routine at the Academy, he pressed to be sent home to rest and, eventually, the request was granted. Despite having perked up with his earlier shower, Jack O'Neill was now exhausted. He argued the toss with himself about staying on base that night so he could hit the sack quickly, but decided the need for his own home and bed was even more pressing than his fatigue. "Crap, I've got some essays to mark," he commented to Sam as they walked towards the elevator to go topside at last. "You need to sleep." "I know. Me and paperwork, always leaving it until the last minute," he said with a grin and Sam chuckled appreciatively. "I think it's gonna have to wait though. Screw it, I'll do them in the morning." "It is morning." The elevator came and the doors closed in front of them, leaving them alone. Jack pressed the button and turned to face Sam. "So, um, Carter...?" he started, tailing off hesitantly and sucking in a deep breath while he bounced on his feet nervously, hands placed firmly in his pockets because he knew they were a little shaky. "Sir?" she looked at him with wide-eyed expectation and he wondered what she was thinking. 'Now so isn't the right time,' he thought, 'but it will be, and soon.' Having changed his mind about asking her on a date, he visibly relaxed and Sam was left on edge, hopeful and then disappointed. "I won, you lost. You owe me dinner," he taunted, smiling cheekily. She sighed, relieving some of her inner tension. "I bet you're never gonna let me live it down, are you?" "Probably not. So where you taking me?" His tone was teasing and Sam was relieved he seemed light-hearted rather than glum. "I'll send you an engraved invitation," she joked but almost immediately frowned, suddenly fearing his behaviour might be part of a Jack O'Neill charade. "Jack, I-I... are you okay?" Instead of him fidgeting and looking at anything but her as she expected, he met her eyes. "I'll be better when you stop askin'," he quipped but, noting her glare, continued. "Don't worry about me so much, I'll be fine. Can't say the idea of someone out there knowing all my thoughts is something I would have wished for, but I can't do anything but live with it, can I? Get back to work, teach, inspire..." He smiled winningly and Sam searched his eyes, feeling vaguely reassured by what she saw. "Fine as in..." "Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional? Yeah, as I said, fine." His eyes danced with merriment and, as those dark brown depths often said more than he did, Sam was almost inclined to believe them, but not quite. She couldn't believe it was going to be so easy for her friend to shrug off recent events. "Jack, I worry because I care. I care a lot." Smiling, Jack briefly grasped her chin and rubbed a thumb over her cheek. "I know, and it helps. It's good to have someone in your life who cares," he answered with refreshing honesty. As his hand moved away she seized it, unwilling to relinquish his touch. "And I am going to be in your life, aren't I?" The expression in her eyes made Jack's heart flutter. He resisted an impulse to pull her into his arms and kiss her face off. "For a long, long time I hope," he said with a wistful smile. "Because I care a lot too." "Good. I need you to care." They regarded each other in silence for a while, both deep in their own thoughts. The spell was broken when the elevator stopped and they stepped out wordlessly, walking to the parking lot side by side, with Jack doing that thing with his hand in the small of her back again to steer Sam to her car. "You're worn out," she said. "You shouldn't drive. Let me run you home?" Jack seemed to consider her offer carefully and Sam thought he was going to decline when he surprised her by nodding acquiescence. "When you're right, you're right," he said grimly. "I'm bushed." "Hop in," she replied, opening the door, and he settled into the passenger seat. During the journey they maintained a peaceful silence and Sam smiled when she glanced at Jack and realised he'd dozed off. She wished she didn't have to wake him, but when they reached his house she shook him gently and whispered his name in his ear. Jack started awake, initially disoriented, and then a contented smile appeared on his face when he realised where he was and who he was with. "Thanks, Sam," he said, reaching up a finger to stroke through her hair. "Anytime." He was sorely tempted to ask her in and seek much needed comfort in her embrace, just to fall asleep with her arms around him, but thought it was probably the wrong thing to do. However, Sam surprised him. "Want some company?" she asked as if she knew what he was thinking. He loosed sighing breath. "Stephen isn't the only one who can read my mind." But when she reached for the handle to open her door, he stopped her. "No. Not tonight." "I want to be here for you if you need me." Her eyes held a plea. "I need you," he admitted and Sam gasped and held her breath at that telling confession, "and I want you to be there, but tonight... it just wouldn't be right." She let out the breath with a heavy sigh and nodded, not necessarily understanding him but willing to fall in with his wishes. "I'll call you in the morning," she said. "I'll call you." "You've said that before." "I promise. I won't let you down, Sam, not this time." "A Jack O'Neill promise is as good as you can get," she replied and his lips turned upwards into a half smile and then he leaned over and quickly pecked Sam on the cheek, immediately backing off and getting out of the car. "You will call tomorrow, won't you?" she queried uncertainly as he went to close the car door. "You betchya," he responded and with a few long strides was gone. She watched as he opened his door, but he didn't turn to look, and her heart was racing as she considered the implications of their semi-cryptic exchange. But she believed today everything had changed, and as Jack closed the door behind him, he believed it too. Jack O'Neill had found faith. The End Footnote - Jackficathon plot bunny: Smart!Jack fic- Jack is teaching at the Air Force Academy (or perhaps at some other institution if you really want, but it should be higher education). The field in which he is teaching has to be something unexpected though such as literature, history, or music. NOT hand-to-hand combat,coaching a sport, flying, or anything you'd expect to see Jack doing. The fic could be set in thattime between the movie andthe series which could explain why he stayed in Colorado Springs instead of heading to Minnesota, it could be setearlier in his career (perhaps after recovering from Iraq), after he retires from the Air Force, or be completely AU. Really it's up to you. I just want to see Jack flexing his brain in an unusual way. And if you really want to make me happy you can through in a little Jack/Sam ship because that amuses me. |