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Jack wasn't sure how he'd ended up flirting with Carter and picking out dresses for her, but it'd managed to be kinda sweet in the end. But, as far as them going to the wedding together, that'd been a no fly zone no matter how much Jack wanted it.

But Carter had said no and Jack, both as friend and CO, had to respect that decision.

He'd spent the morning swimming and had darted back up to New Atlantis to nab a towel from his hut when he saw her. Dammit. No avoiding Carter now. He'd have to speak to her out of politeness; it wasn't like he was mad at her or anything. He just couldn't trust himself around her.

"Morning, Carter."

It'd be easier if he had on more than swim trunks, wouldn't it?

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Sam shook her head. "No, it's okay," she said. "It's a lot of...math. Calculations, that kind of thing."

Of course, as stupid as she sounded right now, it was like she couldn't add two plus two without getting fifteen.

"How's the knee? Dr. Keller cleared you for running again yet?"

"Yeah, I went earlier," Jack said, shrugging. "I'm still not in top shape and I didn't think you'd want me to slow you down. Sorry," he said, giving her a sheepish grin. "Maybe next time?"

Jack sat at the little table they'd played cards on and folded his hands. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I kissed you. It was completely out of line even if we are the same rank now."

Sam just looked at him for a long minute, trying to decide what to say. She felt a little choked, a little panicked, and a little sad, but she didn't show any of it. "I thought we weren't going to talk about it," she said finally. She was still playing with the seashell; she put it down by her bed and crossed the room to the little table, though she didn't sit down. "You don't need to apologize."

"Then I guess we're not talking about it," Jack said quietly, drumming his fingers against the table. "What'd your math tell you about getting us off this rock and back home? Wasn't paying attention a minute ago."

But since Carter didn't want to discuss the kiss, Jack wanted to focus on going home.

Of course, now that they had established that they weren't talking about it, she felt like talking about it. She'd never been very good at talking to him about anything other than work, though. Maybe it was a sign.

"I had to come up with an algorithm to account for the fact that there are fictional people here," she said. "Though that only works if you don't subscribe to the idea that we're in some kind of... virtual reality. At this point, I'm not really sure which to believe."

"Guess not," Jack said, shrugging. "I don't see how you figure putting people into a formula, but I've never pretended to understand half of what you do."

Admired it from afar, maybe, but never understood it.

"Are you at least getting some sleep?"

"I'm really hoping that's what it is," she said hesitantly, "and not the virtual option. But I don't know for sure, not yet." And until she did, she didn't want to think about the implications very much.

She nodded at his question. "Yes," she said, though it wasn't really the truth. She was pulling more all-nighters now than she had in the last couple of years, trying to solve this.

Jack leveled his gaze at her, trying to read her for any cracks. They'd worked together too long for her to lie well, but if she wanted to, she could. He wouldn't try to catch her in it.

"Eat and sleep. Those are the only orders I can give you out here, and those are more suggestions since you and me are the same rank."

"I'm doing both of those things," she said, not quite testily, but close. That was all she was doing except working, anymore; she felt she was so close to an answer that doing anything else but work and basic necessities felt frivolous and wasteful.

Jack arched a brow. "Carter? Do I have to tie you to the bed to get you to sleep? I will, you know. I don't have any qualms about it. I'll even bring mangoes and feed you by hand if I have to."

"It's under control, sir." She couldn't help but think of Fifth, pretending to be Pete, trying to distract her from figuring out what was really going on, and it tore at her. What if this Jack O'Neill that she was falling in love with was the same as that Pete had been--just an impression to cover who was really there, trying to keep her from working out the truth? She didn't know which way was up anymore.

Jack sighed a little, trying not to get angry. It'd really help his chances with Carter if he blew up at her, right? Still, her slipping into insane problem solving mode without coming up for air...he didn't know when he'd made that shift from CO to...whatever but he didn't like it.

"I care about you, Carter. Try to remember that when you're killing yourself?"

Because I care about her. A lot more than I'm supposed to. She'd known it for years, but it was different now.

"I know," she said quietly. She gave him a long look, hoping he would understand, because if he didn't she didn't think she would be able to break it down to explain it to him. In a lot of ways she didn't think she could explain it to herself, if she had to.

"I just... I have to do this. I have to try."

"Right," Jack said quietly, jaw tightening. "Like I said, don't kill yourself. I'm sure some version of me might care about that."

This version cared about that, but who was counting?

Sam hadn't been sure what she expected his response to be, but she definitely hadn't expected it to be so cutting, and for a minute she just stared at him in disbelief. There was a sarcastic wow on the tip of her tongue, but it didn't quite make it out of her mouth. Can you blame him? she asked herself, but it didn't help.

Dammit. Way to go, O'Neill.

Jack sighed and tried to soften his tone a little. "Sorry, Carter. That was a little harsh...don't know what's going on with me today."

Sam shook her head. "It's all right, sir," she replied. "This isn't... none of this is easy." Here was the man she'd been in love with for a large part of her life, and he was perfectly willing to pursue a relationship with her, and she was burying her head in the sand. Was she being a good officer or just a stubborn idiot? She hoped for the former but was afraid it was the latter.

"No it's not," Jack said quickly. "No need for me to snap at you when you're just trying to do your job. It was out of line and I apologize."

"I told you, you don't have anything to apologize for," Sam said, exasperation creeping into her voice. This was why there were regulations in the first place, she knew, and if they would just stay on the right side of them this would be so much easier. "You didn't do anything."

But which side was the right side?

"Carter? Can you come here for a second? I don't...I don't like being on the outs with you, you know? It's no fun for anybody."

Sam stepped a little closer, but warily; not because she was afraid or uncertain of him--she trusted him with her life--but because she didn't trust herself not to cross that line with him again. It wasn't fair to him for her to get so close and back away over and over, and she respected him too much to be unfair like that. "I don't like it either," she said quietly.

Edited 2010-02-06 21:04 (UTC)

Jack stood and slipped his arms around her. He could do this. He'd hugged Carter a handful of times in the line of duty; every officer knew that sometimes after a tough firefight physical comfort did more than any words could ever do.

They'd been dancing around the fire for a month now, stepping back when they got burned, and Jack didn't want her to think they couldn't have this, at least, even if the rest of it was too hot to handle safely.

"You're my best friend, Carter," he said quietly, "You and Daniel. I don't want you killing yourself to fix us and get us off this island. I want you to sleep eight hours a night and eat regular meals and take breaks. And that's coming from Jack, not from Colonel O'Neill. So I don't need a sir on that one or a salute. Just...healthy respect that I'm worried?"

Sam hesitated for the briefest of pauses before putting her arms around him. It's just a hug, she reminded herself. Just like the ones they'd shared so many times before--after pulling him out of Hathor's cryogenic chamber, after Janet died, after destroying the Kull Warrior she'd been running from, and while her father was taking his last breaths in the SGC infirmary--but none of those times had made her feel like she did now. It was just a hug, and there was nothing inappropriate about it except what she was thinking as her cheek pressed against the warm skin of his shoulder. She couldn't help but think of how she had felt after their poker game, sprawled in her floor with him half on top of her giving her what was probably the best kiss of her life... and she shouldn't be thinking about it.

"Okay," she said softly. It took a great amount of effort to keep herself from smoothing her hands over his skin.

Jack cupped the back of her head lightly, his other hand rubbing her back. Just a hug, maybe a little on the long side, but nothing inappropriate. Not after over a week of ignoring each other and Carter damn near trying to kill herself researching their involuntary vacations.

"You mean a lot to me, Carter. I take it for granted sometimes that you know when I'm guessing I'm probably not the most vocal person when it comes to all this touchy feely stuff."

The words stuck in his throat. Dammit. Out with it.

"Take care of yourself? I'll do anything you ask me to do, but I'm shit at formulas, so all I can do is try to give you moral support. I'm not so good at that stuff."

Why, why, why, why was this so hard? Was this some kind of test to see just how strong her willpower was? Because if someone, or something was testing her, she didn't know how long she would be able to hold on until she cracked. She could feel herself wanting to just melt against him, her fingers aching to trace the smooth lines of muscle she could feel under her fingertips, lips ready to part and fit to his in a way had taken her only two kisses to realize was absolutely right.

But it wasn't fair.

She nodded and stepped back just the tiniest bit; not enough to step out of his embrace, but just enough that they weren't quite pressed together so closely. It was too tempting, and Sam wondered for a stomach-dropping moment if she'd waited too long, if her hands and mouth were simply going to act independently from her more rational thoughts and do what she so badly wanted to do. But no; she managed, with a huge effort, not to do those things.