Good Together
Good Together
by Badgergater
Summary: Two people meet and come together and fall apart: a canon Jack/Kerry romance
Category: Drama, Missing Scene/Epilogue, Romance
Episode Related: 818 Threads
Season: Season 8
Pairing: Jack/other
Rating: FAM
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: Author's Pledge: The real Jack O'Neill, always and only, presented with honest, accurate information so that the potential reader has the facts to make an informed decision on whether or not to read.
Author?s Note: I enjoyed the two of them together; Thanks to LW for the beta, and to all those who feedback; it's the only pay a fanfiction writer gets, and it's always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 12/03/06
Good Together Author: Badgergater
Arriving at a new assignment was always a challenging experience-getting to know new people, gaining acceptance, learning how to work with the people in charge. She'd done it many times through her years working with the CIA. Her assignments had been varied, but that kept it interesting.
During her career, Kerry Johnston had been to a lot of well protected and top secret locations, from CIA headquarters to the Pentagon to shadowy Washington locations that she couldn't reveal; American embassies around the world; and military facilities both in the U.S. and across the globe.
The security for this place, however, beat them all.
Of course, she'd been briefed on what was done here.
Though it *was* hard to believe.
But now she was going to see for herself. She was on her way to Stargate Command, twenty-eight floors beneath NORAD's Cheyenne Mountain.
-----x-----
He wasn't at all what she expected.
Brigadier General John J. O'Neill: the name sounded like a stuffy, potbellied, set in his ways, balding military stuffed shirt.
Whatever he looked like, he was rude, there was no doubt about that. The general was late, very, very late. Okay, she'd dealt with the military before, and with their all too often, not at all subtle disrespect for the civilian world. She wasn't about to let her frustration with his bad manners show, however. Kerry tried to curb her impatience and used the time to review the report of the incident which had brought her here. After an hour, however, she could no longer keep her attention on the words in front of her. Instead, she looked at her watch for the twentieth time and barely resisted the urge to pace.
Kerry sighed. This whole project was certainly not getting off to a good start. No longer able to contain her boredom, she got up to look around at the general's office. She had been briefed about O'Neill's involvement in some of the highest level national security events of the past several years, while working here at Stargate Command.
There were lots of certificates and awards hanging on the office's walls, she guessed that would be standard for any general. There were also many pictures of airplanes, most of them featuring the same tall, broad shouldered good looking young man sitting in them or standing beside them. If this was the general, he'd been pretty hot back in his heyday. Hmm, there on the credenza stood a picture of a smiling, handsome young man with a cute little boy. The General? Probably not, that smile didn't look like anything she'd ever seen on the face of any general she'd ever met. It was more likely that was O'Neill's son and grandson.
Most generals she'd met were old and gray and humorless.
This guy, the one in the picture, had a smile that just didn't quit.
And what a cute kid!
And then the General himself walked in, and while he was gray, there was nothing old in the way he walked, the sparkle in his eyes or the charismatic aura he projected.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
She wasn't at all what he'd expected.
In fact, he'd been expecting a he, not a she.
"Sir, CIA Agent Johnston is here," Walter told him anxiously.
"Tell him I'll be there in a minute."
"Sir-"
"In a minute, Walter."
Actually, it took more than a minute, way more than a minute, but he wasn't going to be sitting in his office talking to some pencil pushing stuffed shirt suit from the CIA when one of his teams was coming in hot. Agent Johnston could just cool his heels while Jack did his real job, taking care of the personnel under his command.
Once SG-14 was home, winded but unhurt, Jack turned back to Walter, who was staring at him imploringly.
"Sir, please, in your office-"
"Walter, I know. Agent Johnston is waiting. I'm on the way right now."
Jack trotted up the stairs from the control room. Pulling down his shirttails, running a hand through his unruly hair, he strode across the briefing room and into his office. "Sorry to be late, Mister--"
Two steps into his office he stopped dead in his tracks.
Mister CIA Agent Johnston was most definitely not a he but a she, a quite attractive looking she, as a matter of fact.
"Agent Johnston?" he asked, disbelieving.
She stood, extending her hand. "General O'Neill I presume?"
"You've presumed correctly. And I've presumed incorrectly."
She raised an eyebrow questioningly as he slumped into the chair behind his desk.
"Sorry. I assumed Kerry Johnston would be a guy. You know, Kerry, like Kerry Wood," he explained.
"Carry wood?" she asked, stumped.
"Kerry Wood, pitcher, Chicago Cubs."
"Oh, *that Kerry Wood. He pitched a shutout last Sunday, didn't he?"
His heart went pitter-patter. Smart. Good looking. And knowledgeable about the Cubs. This was a *real* woman. He chanced a glance down at her hand and didn't see a ring. "Yes, he did. Now, though I'd love to talk baseball, unfortunately, that's not what the government pays me to do, and I rather doubt it's what they pay you to do, either."
She smiled.
He smiled.
-----x-----
Their meeting took three hours.
Thanks to the late start, by the time they were done, the day shift had gone home, the SGC was quiet, and Jack was famished. "Look, I know I've kept you late, thanks to my tardiness. How about I buy dinner, in recompense?"
She smiled. "I *am* hungry."
He looked at his watch. Seven p.m. "Then we'd probably better go elsewhere. While we *could* still get dinner here on the base, by now, it would be re-warmed and reheated at least three times. Maybe four. I wouldn't recommend it. To be honest, I wouldn't recommend it anytime, but--" he spread his hands wide.
"That bad?"
"I've put in a requisition for a new cook, but they keep sending me Marines."
She laughed.
God, he liked her laugh.
-----x-----
He took her to O'Malleys, selecting a quiet table in a back corner where the light was low. Maybe she wouldn't notice the gray in his hair and the lines on his face. Then again, she'd spent the whole afternoon sitting next to him in his brightly lit office. Definitely too little too late to hide anything from her, he realized sadly. Then again, she *had* accepted his invitation, so it was doubtful she was put off by the fact that he wasn't 20, or 30 or even 40 anymore. And, he thought with a bit of pumped up ego, she sure didn't seem put off.
Either that, or she was really hungry.
"So, General, where are you from?" Kerry asked while they waited for their steaks.
"Minnesota."
"But you're a Chicago Cubs fan?"
"Born in Chicago. Raised in Minnesota. And call me Jack."
"Jack," she smiled. "Nice name. It fits you."
"I hope so. I've been using it for a long time."
She smiled.
"And you're from?" he asked.
"Next door. Iowa."
"How'd you get from the Midwest to the CIA?"
"A very persuasive college recruiter," she sipped her drink. "Serve your country, see the world." It was his turn to smile. "Must have been the same guy who talked me into the Air Force."
"It was obviously a good choice."
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You made general. You must be very good at being in the Air Force."
"Not everyone's thought so."
They both looked down at the table, and she was the one who asked the question. "So, you're not married?"
"Divorced. Eight years." He sipped his beer. "You?"
"Two years. My career is hard on relationships."
"Tell me about it."
"I can't imagine you'd have trouble getting a date."
He pointed at his forehead. "The gray--"
"It's handsome." She'd been studying him, and he really didn't seem to have a clue about the effect he had on women.
He looked embarrassed. "Yeah, right. And let's see, I work a lot of hours, on an erratic schedule, to say the least. And when I'm home, I'm too tired to date. Haven't been on one in years." "Then what do you call this?"
"A business dinner."
Kerry took a deep breath and threw caution to the winds. "It doesn't have to be all business," she suggested boldly, reaching across the table to lay her hand over his. "I think I'd like to get to know you better. I know we just met, but to be honest, I find you very interesting and very attractive." She saw the hesitation on his face. "Look, really, I know it's a clich, but I'm not usually so forward. And I'm really not into men in uniform, but I like you. And if I don't say it, I know I'll regret it."
He grimaced and looked down at his hands. "Kerry, I think this is a bad idea. Not that I don't like you, because I do, but-"
"We won't know if it's a bad idea until we give it a try."
"This could be a problem-"
"What people don't know won't hurt them. Or us."
"Working together-"
"Brought us together."
He looked over at her and couldn't say no. He liked her. A lot. He missed having someone in his life. No, he'd never been good at sharing, not even with Sara, but he missed the comfort of being with another person, being with someone who enjoyed his company, as an equal. Yes, he hadn't forgotten all the baggage relationships inevitably dragged along with them, but, if he was honest with himself, he was more solitary than he'd ever been at any time in his life. Not that he had a problem with solitary. Sometimes he needed solitude. But too much of any good thing was well, too much. Being the man in charge, disconnected from SG-1, had left him more alone than he had been in a long time. Maybe ever. Or maybe he just hadn't noticed it so much when he was still going on missions, coming home physically exhausted enough to fall into bed and sleep at night. And when he'd had the companionship of his teammates to rely on.
Lately, on too many nights he'd found himself sitting alone in front of the TV and feeling cut off from everyone. Longing for someone to talk to about something other than the Stargate program. Thinking too much.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
Kerry quickly realized that she found this man not only handsome, but intriguing. Military men weren't her usual type-- too formal, too stiff, too set in their ways. Cold. Distant. Humorless. But not Jack O'Neill. He was funny, in a wry, self-effacing way she found totally charming. And smart. Not slick, surface smart, but sly, underhanded smart. Like he was hiding most of what he knew, and he wasn't going to offer any easy answers. With him, you would earn every bit of personal information you could manage to pry out of him.
Thank God he didn't take himself too seriously. That was another problem with most of the military men she'd ever met, especially with the high ranking ones. They tended to have egos as big as their airplanes. True, she'd only known O'Neill for a few hours, but she already knew that he always saw the joke in every situation, and assumed the joke was on him.
Yes, he was older than she was, but he didn't act old. Oddly enough, he seemed shy, and something in his gaze screamed needy at her.
Then there were his eyes. Good lord, she could drown in the depths of those brown eyes. She desperately wanted to run her hands through his spiky hair. And his hands, oh yeah, those long, slender fingers. Her skin tingled just at the thought of what their touch could do to her. He looked good and he smelled good, and even if his civilian clothes were a size too big, they couldn't completely hide the long lean body underneath. There was a certain predatory grace to his walk, she noticed when they left the restaurant.
/-----x-----
He didn't want the night to be over, but, as out of practice as he was at dating, and more tongue-tied than he'd ever been, okay, okay, to be honest, more afraid of rejection than he'd ever been, he didn't know how to suggest it.
Kerry rescued him.
Maybe she was the perfect woman, he thought with a happy sigh.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
He was driving her back to her hotel when she got up the nerve to ask. After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and she was probably going to be in Colorado Springs only a few days. It was either now or forever regret the lost opportunity.
"So, Jack, would you like to come up to my room for a drink?" she suggested.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
Holy buckets!
Was she reading his mind? Well, okay, he was thinking more than a drink. And while it had been a long time, a really, really long time since a woman had invited him up to her room, he was pretty sure it still meant the same thing as it had back in the Dark Ages when he'd last been dating. He parked the pick-up and they walked through the lobby together. Jack couldn't help noticing the subtle smirk on the desk clerk's face, but he ignored it as he followed Kerry into the elevator.
The hotel was very nice, very quiet and quite sophisticated. The room was neat and dimly lit. There was a small sitting area with two chairs and a small sofa. The bed, he noticed while trying not to look like he was noticing it, was king-sized, with the blankets neatly turned down.
To hell with it. He'd had a beer with dinner, Jack didn't really want another drink, but he wasn't sure how to tell her that.
He didn't need to. Once she'd locked the door behind them, she turned to him, stepping into his arms and reaching up to kiss him.
He raised his hands to cup her face and kissed her back. Her mouth tasted warm with a slight tinge of beer.
Nice.
Jack wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands slide down her sides to trace the line of her hips, pulling her whole body in close to his. He slid his lips from hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, beneath her ear, down the long slender neck. "I don't usually do this on a first date," he mumbled into her neck as her hands slid up under his shirt and his up under her skirt.
"Me, neither."
"Maybe it's time this old dog learned some new tricks?"
"Mmm, yeah."
/-----x-----
In the first minute, he didn't remember where he was. The once familiar feel of a woman's body curled against his left him bewildered.
And then he remembered.
She was Kerry Johnston, CIA agent.
He was General O'Neill, spending the night somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.
Carefully, trying not to wake her, he rolled over. The clock read 5:09. He slid out of bed, ignoring the twinge in his back, and looking for his clothes. His shirt lay over near the door, but there, his pants were thrown on the chair. He quickly fumbled through the pockets and found his pager, relaxing when he saw it was blank.
No one had been looking for him, thank goodness.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
His gentle movements woke her from a very pleasant dream. Still, it was an enjoyable sight that greeted her as she watched him search for his clothes. Too bad the curtains were pulled and the lights off, because she'd have liked to have seen his body in the light.
Last night, in their lovemaking, she'd let her hands roam over his body. The scars had amazed her. The first one she'd touched, he'd flinched, as if afraid she'd reject him, but they'd fascinated her, as if they were badges testifying to his battles and his courage.
He'd told her it had been a long time since he'd been with someone, and he'd sounded worried, as if he was afraid of failing her, but he hadn't. Kerry smiled, thinking that if he was half the soldier that he was the lover, he was one hell of a soldier.
In the end, she concluded he *was* one hell of a soldier.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
"Jack?"
He spun around, feeling incredibly self-conscious. It took all his self-control to keep his hands at his sides and not moving to cover himself. Which was silly, he knew, because he'd just spent the whole night in bed with her, and neither one of them had been wearing so much as a stitch of clothes. She'd seen him in his entirety, and hadn't kicked him out.
That *was* a good sign, wasn't it?
"Jack?" she asked again, sounding upset. "You're leaving?"
"Got to. It's after five," he explained as he buttoned his shirt and tried to smooth out the wrinkles.
"Can't you go in late?"
He rolled his eyes. "A general's work is never done."
"Mmm. That's too bad."
"Yes it is," he answered honestly, stepping forward and bending down to kiss her. "But there's always tomorrow night, er, tonight."
"Jack O'Neill, are you asking me out on a *date*?"
He nodded. "If nothing comes up at the SGC."
She smiled.
/-----x-----
Part Two
Jack stepped out of the elevator and started down the corridor, toward his office. He tried to look normal, but he had the feeling that everyone was looking at him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was having trouble keeping a grin off his face.
Though this was no time to be grinning. Daniel, after all, was still missing. Carter, he knew, thought Daniel was dead, but Jack knew better. Daniel had the tendency to get glowy when he died, and when he got glowy, he always visited Jack. So, no visit, no glowy, therefore, no dead Daniel.
Which did make him grin.
"You appear to be in a most pleasant mood today, O'Neill," Teal'c appeared from an intersecting hallway and began walking beside him along the corridor. Jack patted him on the shoulder. "Indeed I am, T."
"May I inquire what has induced this mood?"
Oh, T was sneaky. Jack lowered his voice. "I had a good night."
"You slept well?"
"Oh, I more than slept well," Jack tried to keep the pride out of his voice, but he had the feeling he failed. "I performed well."
T looked over at him, one eyebrow lifted in puzzlement. "And what kind of performance would that be, O'Neill?"
"Shhh. Keep your voice down."
The big Jaffa repeated the question in a whisper. "And what kind of performance would that be, O'Neill?"
Jack lowered his voice another notch. "The manly game, T, with Ms. Kerry Johnston. She *likes* me."
Teal'c still looked puzzled. "You played hockey with Kerry Johnston?"
"No. Not hockey. I know I've told you that hockey is a manly game, but that's not what I meant this time." Jack tilted his head, leaning closer to Teal'c so that no one else could hear. "We did the-- you know."
T was still staring. "I do not know."
"Yes, you do. You know, man, woman, bed, well, not always in a bed," Jack conceded, "but usually, though there are other places it's really nice--"
"You were referring to exhibiting your sexual prowess for Ms. KerryJohnston?"
"Sheesh, why don't you just tell everybody?" a stricken look crossed Jack's face. "I didn't mean that. I meant, you don't have to tell everybody. Or anybody. That wouldn't be polite."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "You have told me."
"You're my buddy, Teal'c. A man can brag to his best buddies. But to no one else. This is between you and me."
Teal'c threw him a deadpan look. "Then perhaps you should not smile so much, O'Neill."
/-----x-----
The day sped by as Jack was absorbed in the business of running the military's most top secret base. He managed to clear off his desk and get out of his office by 6:15, in time to meet Kerry for a late dinner. Just thinking about her made his body start to get that good all over feeling, a tingling sensation reminiscent of the effects of that repolarized naquadah generator Carter and Malek the Tok'ra had rigged up back on the alpha site when they were looking for Bra'tak's invisible attacker.
The general had to suppress the urge to whistle as he rode the elevator up to NORAD, feet tapping impatiently. The young airman who rode up with him, one of the SFs who guarded the gate, kept glancing surreptitiously at him out of the corner of his eyes.
Tonight, he chose a quiet little place that featured Italian food, dim lights and lots of privacy. After dinner, emboldened by the events of the night before he suggested, offhand, "So how'd you like to come back to my house and do a little stargazing?" The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted them-- it was an incredible clich line.
But she accepted anyway.
Oh god, he *had* put his dirty socks in the hamper, right? Hadn't left the toothpaste on the bathroom counter? Changed the sheets sometime in the last millennium?
/-----x-----
Kerry walked around Jack's house, intrigued. It was very masculine and very handsome, just like its owner. Neat and tidy,too, as she'd expect with a military man. Intriguing little bits of his personality shown through-his interest in fishing, hockey, stargazing, and the Simpsons. There was a signed framed photo of actress Mary Steenburgen in the dining room.
Another photograph of the same little boy whose picture stood in his office hung on his wall. "Your grandson?" she asked.
Immediately, she knew the question had been a mistake. A look of pain erased the smile from his face, and then was gone in an instant, replaced by a stoic mask of indifference, a look she'd never seen from him. "No."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
He handed her one of the two beers he'd brought from the kitchen and stepped into the living room, flopping down in the brown leather chair across from her.
There, on the wall behind the sofa, was another picture of the same little boy, this time with a young, brown haired Jack and a woman.
"Charlie was my son. He died." All the lightness was gone from his tone, all the life had left his voice.
"Jack, I'm sorry."
He shrugged and waved a hand at the photo. "I put the pictures out, I should expect questions." His voice sounded huskier when he added. "Charlie died when he was ten. It was my fault. That's why Sara left."
That explained a lot, Kerry thought. Divorced eight years, he'd said. The boy would have been a young man now. And apparently, from the photo, he'd been an only child. "I can't imagine how hard it would be to lose a child."
"Don't even try," he answered darkly, and took a long swallow of his beer.
She needed to find a safer topic than this obviously still painful personal tragedy. "So you put all your energy into your career."
He nodded, still not looking at her.
"Why the Air Force?"
"They had the most and fastest airplanes."
"But you're not a pilot."
He took a swig of the beer, and found himself telling her things he'd never revealed to anyone before. "I was. Six years. I loved flying but it's very-regimented, by the book. Too many rules for me, I guess." He took another swallow of his beer. "Then a guy I'd been buddies with back at the academy kept telling me how much I'd love Special Ops because it was where the real action was. Not just," he waved the hand holding the half-empty bottle through the air, "waiting for something to happen, but making things happen." Jack grinned. "It fit my independent nature, working without someone looking over my shoulder every minute. Results mattered, but pretty much, you're left on your own to accomplish the mission."
"Obviously, you were very good at your job."
His face bore a strange, far off expression. "I suppose," he said, softly.
"They kept promoting you."
He shrugged laconically.
"Being a general isn't what you wanted."
"I liked being a Colonel, going out there," Jack waved a hand in the air. "Being behind a desk," he looked over at her, shaking his head. "I never expected it would happen. I kept trying to retire but the Air Force wouldn't let me."
Kerry sipped her drink thoughtfully. "I think you think you're not worthy. And you're wrong."
His eyebrows shot up as he looked at her over his beer bottle, but he only shrugged. "It's hard to accurately judge yourself."
"I don't think so. You're a very astute judge of others. I've seen you at work, remember?"
He seemed uncomfortable talking about himself and moved quickly to change the subject of the conversation. "Ah hah. You, came for the stargazing, right? So let's go up to the roof. The ladder's outside."
/-----x-----/-----x-----
He took her hand and led her out the door onto the deck, down the stairs, and across the lawn to a solid-built wooden ladder fastened to the side of the house. "Ladies first," he offered, pointing the way up. She climbed quickly, then stood waiting for him as he joined her, setting the telescope in place.
"It used to be better viewing," he apologized. "But the city keeps growing and the light pollution dims everything near the horizon."
"This is fine. It's beautiful."
He sat down on the small bench and she squeezed in beside him, the contact of her jean covered thigh with his own starting that tingling feeling all over again. She smelled good, womanly. "Sorry there's not much room. I don't usually have company up here," he admitted.
"I feel honored then. And there's the perfect amount of room." She tucked herself in closer, the soft rounded shape of her breast pressed against his arm.
Jack swallowed and cleared his throat. He had to reach one arm around her to focus the telescope. "There. That's the nebula-" he lifted his face from the eyepiece, and found himself looking directly into her eyes.
All thoughts about stars and telescopes vanished from his thoughts. All his thoughts pretty much vanished from his thoughts as his lips touched hers.
/-----x-----
Afterwards, he wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten down from the deck and into the house, he only knew they had, and quickly.
He liked waking up in his own bed with a beautiful woman sleeping beside him. /-----x-----
Part Three
It was Saturday, and he could skip going into his office, just this once. He'd fired up the grill and waited until the coals turned grey before tossing the steaks onto the fire.
He nearly choked on his beer when Carter came around the corner of his deck. What stunningly great timing. He flung a look at the house; Kerry had just gone in to make a salad.
"Hi, Sir."
"Carter!" What was she doing here? Could he just order her to leave? Like, right now?
"Look, I-I'm sorry to bother you at home like this, but, uh--"
"How'd you know I was here?" He glanced nervously at the house. Any second now Kerry was going to return from her trip to the kitchen and he was going to be refereeing a cat fight, if he wasn't careful.
"I saw the smoke."
"Oh, yeah." Jack brushed a stray bit of ash off his shirt, searching for anything he could do so he wouldn't have to look at the lieutenant colonel.
"Look, is this, is this OK? I mean, I could have called first, but--"
What could he say that wouldn't sound lame? "No -- yeah -- I mean, it's fine. So, um," he looked at the house, praying the door wouldn't open, that Kerry was really, really slow at making a salad, "what brings you to this neck of the woods on such a fine day in my back yard?" He was babbling now, but if he babbled, then she couldn't say anything that would embarrass either one of them in front of Kerry.
She was looking uncertain and hesitant, not at all like the Carter he'd worked with all these years. "Well, actually, I've, um," she cleared her throat, "I've been sitting in your driveway for the last ten minutes trying to work up the nerve to come and talk to you."
He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
"The truth is, I've been trying to work up the nerve for a lot longer than that," she smiled nervously.
"Oh?" He waved the grilling fork in the air, gesturing for her to continue, because maybe if she talked fast, she'd be done before Kerry finished in the kitchen.
"Pete put a down payment on a house."
Pete. Safe subject. Excellent! He thought. "Well, that's great!" Someday, he was going to have to thank Pete for saving his life.
"It's a beautiful house."
"But?" It was obvious something was bothering Carter, or she wouldn't be standing here in his backyard looking and sounding like someone in the confessional instead of the excited, blushing bride to be she ought to be.
"The-the truth is, I'm having second thoughts about the wedding."
"Why?"
"See, the -- the thing is, the closer it gets, the more I get the feeling that -- I'm making a big, huge, mistake.
Oh for crying out loud. Who didn't have cold feet before something so momentous as a wedding? Jack looked at her for a moment, then glanced towards the house again, hoping, now, that Kerry would step outside and end this conversation before Carter said something she shouldn't. "Look, Carter, the -- I don't know what --" He was such a coward, totally unable to tell her the truth.
"Look, I'm sorry to bother you with this, but, uh -- see, there's actually a very good *reason* that I'm bothering you with this, and if I don't tell you now, I might never--"
The door from the house to the deck opened. "Jack, I looked everywhere - I could not find--" Kerry stopped, staring at the woman standing on the steps of the deck.
Sam closed her eyes, then winced before turning towards Kerry.
"Colonel Carter," Kerry greeted her politely.
Carter nodded.
Jack waved in introduction. "Ms Johnston--"
Carter blushed. "Yeah, I didn't - I didn't--"
"We were just -- meeting here in my back yard on this fine day to discuss the state of affairs." If God would just open up a hole, a huge and honkin' black hole, so he could fall into it, right this very minute, he would be forever grateful. Getting sucked into a whirling black maelstrom would be far preferable to watching what was taking place in front of him.
Carter simply nodded.
It was Kerry who said what they were all thinking. "Well, this is awkward!"
"Ya think?" Carter answered.
"Jack didn't want anyone at the SGC to know about us," the CIA agent explained, her confident words the exact opposite of Carter's stumbling.
He stepped over to take the bowl and dish from Kerry, wishing he could just disappear and let the two of them spit and snarl and scratch at each other until they were done. But he couldn't. It was his house.
Carter looked embarrassed. "No, look, I, uh, uh, I'm sorry, this is my fault, I really, I shouldn't have come by unannounced like this."
"Well, y'know, now that the cat's out of the bag, you're here, why don't you just stay? I'm sure there's enough charred meat on the grill for all three of us," Kerry suggested.
Jack waved one of the charred steaks in the air, wishing he was far, far away.
Carter laughed. "No - thank you - I, um-- " The ringing of her cellphone ended her stammering apology. She pulled out the phone and glanced at the caller ID. "It's the SGC." She placed the phone to her ear. "Colonel Carter.
Silently, the others waited, Kerry smiling at Jack as he offered her his beer.
"What? When? --OK, I'm on my way." Carter hung up the phone, her earlier embarrassment replaced by a look of distress. "I-I gotta go. Uh, it's my dad."
/-----x-----
Much to Jack's regret, Carter's visit had pretty much put a damper on the whole day. Kerry had gone silent and distant, and Jack didn't know what to say to her, how to explain that terribly awkward moment. So in the end, he didn't.
And in the end, he regretted it.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
Kerry didn't stay at Jack's that night. With vague apologies, she returned early to her hotel, but she didn't get much sleep. Mostly, she tossed and turned in a bed that felt too big and very empty. She'd enjoyed spending time with Jack O'Neill. He was an interesting, charismatic, sexy man who knew how to make a woman feel good. He was the kind of man a woman dreamed about. But when the dreaming was over, she knew he had his failings. She'd overlooked them at first, taken in by his charm and boyishness. And yet, she'd always known that there was something very deep and very dark about this man.
Very hidden.
He was more scarred inside than out; one of those men who built impenetrable walls around his feelings, who was incredibly successful in his career but unable to achieve that same success in his personal life.
Unable to put his feelings into words.
Unable to say the things that needed to be said.
Unable to let go of the past.
Much as she cared about him, much as she enjoyed his company and knew he enjoyed hers, to be honest, she really had known almost from the start that this had to end quickly, or end badly.
And maybe both.
He was who he was, or what life and grief and loss and the military had made him.
She couldn't let him get any deeper into her psyche.
A little pain now was going to save them both a lot of pain later.
/-----x-----/-----x-----
He was staring down at another of the endless reports that appeared daily on his desk when there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Kerry standing there. God, she was lovely.
"How's Colonel Carter's father?" she asked politely.
"Doesn't look good."
"Sorry to hear that." Kerry stepped into the office and closed the door.
Jack's heart dropped. "Closing the door."
"Yeah. Deeply symbolic."
"Really?"
Kerry smiled awkwardly. " I really like you. We're good together."
Jack climbed slowly to his feet, knowing the footwear was about to fall, as Thor had once described it. "Yes. We are. But?"
"You have issues. It's OK - we all do. There's just one big one in particular that I don't think I can love with."
Jack raised his eyebrows at her slip of the tongue.
Kerry flinched and corrected herself. *Live* with. I need to get out before I get more involved. We can still work together, can't we? I'd *hate* to have to ask for reassignment. This is really important to me. We agreed this would never affect the job."
"We did."
"Good." She smiled and walked towards the door, then turned and put her hands on her hips. "You know, there's just one thing I don't understand."
He was trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. He knew he wasn't perfect, far from it, but he'd thought they really did have something good happening between them. "Just one?"
"Is the Air Force the only thing keeping you two apart? Rules and regulations? 'Cause if it is, you're making a very big mistake."
Oh, his life was so much more complicated than that. Maybe she didn't understand him half as well as he'd thought she did. "And you know what I should do?" he asked, wearily.
"Retire."
"Again." He'd tried retirement, and it wasn't much fun. He loved the Air Force.
"Don't get me wrong - you are considered invaluable to the program by the Pentagon, but the President has appointed a civilian to run the SGC before."
Jack nodded. He knew that.
"Just a thought."
Kerry left.
Jack stood, looking after her, wishing he could explain himself and knowing he couldn't.
/*****x*****
Being dumped had hurt. He'd gone home and sat on his deck, a beer in hand, looking out across his backyard, acutely feeling the solitude and a suddenly unwanted quiet. He'd enjoyed Kerry's company, her wit and her charm. She was easy on the eyes and laughed at his jokes. She'd made him feel good about himself in ways he hadn't felt in a very long time. She'd brought life and energy into his usually quiet home. And yes, they'd enjoyed very good, very passionate sex. He'd sure enjoyed it, anyway.
/*****x*****
He dialed the number, half hoping she wouldn't answer, but she did. "Hi."
"Hello, Jack."
At least she didn't hang up the moment she realized it was him. "I was, ah, thinking. About what you said, in my office."
"I meant what I said, Jack."
"I know, but I think you got some things wrong."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Like what?"
"Like I don't want to retire. I like being in the Air Force."
"Okay, though that's really not the point."
"What is, then?"
"Let's start with Lieutenant Colonel Carter."
"Carter?"
"Yes, Carter. Explain to me what's going on between you two."
"Nothing," he answered directly. "I'm her commanding officer."
"There's more than that."
He squirmed. "It's, ah, difficult."
"For you, I know. But I need to hear it, from you."
"I know she's in love with me."
"Wow. You noticed."
"But I'm not in love with her."
"Really?" Kerry's tone was skeptical.
"Really."
"If that's true, then why don't you tell her? Why let her embarrass herself, the way she did showing up at your house? That wasn't kindness, Jack, that was cruelty of a sort I wouldn't have expected of you."
He squirmed again. "I- I've tried. I always thought, as brilliant as she is, that she'd, you know, figure it out for herself. Sooner or later, she'd realize, by the way I acted, that I wasn't returning the same interest--"
"So you wouldn't have to tell her."
He nodded, then realized Kerry couldn't see it. "Yes. And when she hooked up with Pete, I was thrilled. I thought she was happy and I was free."
Kerry sighed. "You're a coward, Jack O'Neill. Now don't get me wrong. When it comes to battle, I know you're a hero."
"Not really."
"Yes, you are. I've read some of your mission reports, remember? But when it comes to dealing with your personal life, your feelings, you can't face up to them."
"I suppose."
"You more than suppose. Tell me, Jack, why is your ex-wife's picture still hanging in your living room?"
"My son-"
"You have other pictures of him. I saw them. You've never resolved your feelings for her, have you?" She let the question hang in the air between them.
There was silence on the line for a long moment, and she had nearly decided he wasn't going to answer, when softly, he said, "I suppose not."
Her voice was low and sad, filled with regret. "Jack, I meant what I said today. I really like you, and I think we could have been something special together. But I can't get more deeply involved with someone who quite obviously has unresolved - issues." She sighed.
He nodded again. "I understand." Jack took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I like you too."
"Good night, Jack."
"Good night."
"Good bye."
Very slowly, Jack hung up the phone. Standing, he walked out of the living room, shutting off the light as he headed down the hall toward his bedroom, and his empty bed.
-----The End-----17
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Author's Pledge: The real Jack O'Neill, always and only, presented with honest, accurate information so that the potential reader has the facts to make an informed decision on whether or not to read. Author?s Note: I enjoyed the two of them together; Thanks to LW for the beta, and to all those who feedback; it's the only pay a fanfiction writer gets, and it's always appreciated.
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