Title: Musings of an AirForce Colonel: To Be Or Not To Be?
Author: Chezza
E-mail: [email protected]
Status: Complete
Sequel/Series: N/A
Summary: 'To be or not to be?' That is the question….
Season: End Season 7/Beginning Season 8.
Spoilers: Season 6's 'Paradise Lost' and 'Abyss' and Season 7's 'Death Knell', and the
finale – 'The Lost City'. Also spoilers for Jack's potential role during Season 8. If you're
trying to avoid knowing anything about any of the above, then DO NOT read this fic.
Consider yourself warned….
Category: Character Thoughts. L'il bit S/J Friendship.
Characters: Jack O'Neill. Sam Carter.
Pairing: S/J
Rating: PG-13 (for several swear words)
Warnings: The first bit is mainly Jack's thoughts so…Language.
File Size: ?
Archive: Jackfic, Helio, Fanfiction.net, Gateworld, SJD, my site….. If anyone else wants
it, just lemme know where you're taking it, so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine! Surprise…. Stargate and it's characters etc, belong to all those
folks who actually make *money* out of them. Any original stuff in there is mine. Tho'
sadly, it's unlikely to ever bring me any cash….
Authors Notes: This little fic has been kicking around for a while. Originally, the basis of
it formed part of my 'Paperless Office' fic. However, it ended up taking that fic away from
where I wanted it to go, so I took it out. It's been sitting around on my hard drive ever
since, as I haven't had a context in which to do something with it. Until now.
So…thanks go to the folks on the jackfic list who requested the return of the weekly
'opening sentence' challenge, which – combined with the recent reports on 'TLC' and the
news of Season 8 (Yay!) - gave me the idea of how to fit it into a fic. The rest of the story
just sprang from there. It was simply a matter of timing I guess….
As always, thanks go to dragonlady for the beta. Flames will be used to light Teal'c's
candles not like *that*! Get your mind outta the gutter, f'cryin' out loud! but
constructive feedback (and criticism) is always gratefully received. Enjoy!
~~~o0o~~~
'To be a General, or *not* to be a General?' Despite what Shakespeare might have
thought about the mangling of Hamlet's most memorable line, that was the question
currently preying on Jack O'Neill's mind.
He'd assumed for many years now, that if he ever managed to make the rank of
General, it would be as a posthumous award. Which he was okay with, except for the
actual 'dying' part obviously. He'd quit the whole career thing years ago. Sure, it would
be nice to have the stars on his shoulders, but it wasn't as if he really needed them. By
the time you reached Colonel, there were precious few people left who could order you
round. All he'd ever aimed for, was to reach a point where he didn't have to take crap
from every flyboy with a coupla of pips on his shoulder. It never ceased to amaze him
exactly how far he'd come. He'd always expected to be turfed out on his ear for bucking
one too many rules, long before he got to this point. Or pushing up the daisies on some
god forsaken part of the globe. Maybe with a nice little memorial on a well kept military
cemetery somewhere, if he was lucky.
There were definite advantages to not being a General. For example, Generals didn't get
to do field work. Well, except in exceptional circumstances. Like times of war. Hmm…did
the situation with the Goa'uld class as a 'time of war'? Not officially he supposed. But it
wouldn't be the first time the US had engaged in 'unofficial hostile activities'. Hell, he'd
been a participant in a few himself….
But on the whole, field work was generally (ha-ha) a definite no-no. You simply didn't put
the man-in-charge in a position where he (and the knowledge he contained) could easily
be captured – or even killed - by the enemy. It was a bit dumb really. Hence the reason
General's led from the back. Of course, this meant they didn't get stranded on foreign
planets for the better part of a month and upwards. Or tortured to death by sadistic
snakeheads with a nasty predilection for things like pain sticks, acid and knives. Or
came this close to having their brains turn to mush and start leaking out of their ears
thanks to a download of Ancient knowledge. Okay, so there were *some* points in their
favour, but what were the odds of it happening again? Hmm…no comment. Besides they
didn't get to visit new planets every week, *huge* plus on the 'not being a General' side.
And - most importantly - they flew desks.
Sara had always wanted him to go for promotion for that very reason. Granted the extra
money promotion brought in was always welcome when you were trying to raise a
family. 'Not that *that* was an issue anymore,' Jack thought wistfully. Primarily though,
she'd wanted him in a nice safe desk job where she could be certain he would come
home to her, and later to Charlie as well. Some of their biggest knock down fights had
been over that very subject. But…that wasn't who he was, as he had often pointed out.
He thrived on action. The adrenaline rush of combat and the thrill of putting his life on
the line. Sometimes – especially nowadays – the only time he felt truly *alive* was when
he was on the verge of death. She'd known that when she married him, but she'd
thought she could change him. She hadn't and it had become yet another thing they'd
agreed to disagree on. Sometimes towards the end of their marriage, he'd wondered if
Charlie had been the only thing keeping them together.
Oh he'd loved her. Part of him always would. How could you not love the person who
had given you everything you'd ever wanted in life? But sometimes that simply wasn't
enough. Which was why it hadn't really come as a surprise that they'd torn each other
apart after Charlie had…died. Jack ignored the small twinge the thought always caused.
It would still hurt when he was old enough to be a Grandpa.
He smiled wryly. That's not so far away now, Jack…. He wasn't stupid. Jack knew if he
stayed as a Colonel, he would have maybe 2 more years (if his luck held) as a field
commander - at the most - and then that was it. It was just the way things worked. You
reached the big five-oh and you were no longer considered 'field-worthy'. Why? Because
the fitness levels simply weren't there any longer. Jack knew it. Hell, he could feel it
*now* whenever they'd had a particularly lousy mission. AIf your physical fitness wasn't
up to scratch, then you were a liability in the field. To yourself and to your team, and
*that* was simply unacceptable. Better to step aside than get someone you cared about
killed, because you were too proud to admit that you weren't up to the job any more. He
hadn't been joking when – after they'd saved the Earth, yet *again* and he'd nearly died,
yet *again* - he'd told Danny he was getting too old for this shit.
Which brought them to the here and now. Today. He still had time. He could still say no
to it all and walk away, but then what? All it would do was defer the problem for another
coupla years. He sincerely doubted he'd be offered this opportunity again. Not if he'd
already turned it down – yet *again*, hmm…he was sensing a pattern here - because it
wasn't convenient for him at the time. Yeah, he was sure *that* would go down really
well…not.
And then what? He'd either have to retire gracefully again (soo not gonna happen), or fly
a desk. He was still working on other options, but frankly? It wasn't looking promising. It
was this, or nuthin. Trouble was, as far as Jack was concerned, further promotion had
one mighty big drawback that far outstripped anything else: paperwork.
Jack considered himself a field commander. Always had done, always would. He led
from the front, not the back. He wasn't the type of guy to sit around shuffling papers,
whilst he sent others into danger in his place. It didn't sit right. He didn't believe in asking
someone to do anything he wasn't prepared to do himself. It was a CO's job to protect
the people under his command. The thought of it being the other way round made him
uneasy. Not least because he didn't want someone else dying for him. Not when he
wasn't worth it.
~~~o0o~~~
Jack tugged at his tie trying to get it to hang straight. He didn't have much success.
Damn dress uniform. No matter how hard he tried - ironed, starched, whatever - the
moment he put the bloody thing on, it always gained that slightly rumpled look. Last time
he'd groused about it, Daniel had suggested it was the person not the uniform. Flamin'
civilian! What did he know? He got to wear a normal suit…
And that was another thing. If being a black ops officer had had one advantage it was
that ya didn't have to wear 'the dreaded dress' too often. Hell, he'd probably worn it more
in the past seven years than he had in the whole ten years before that. Being a General
tho'? Oh yeah, he could see himself having to wear it a helluva lot more. At official
functions. Air Force balls. Meetings in 'the halls of power'. All the things he'd tried to stay
away from. He shuddered, then gave himself a mental slap.
For cryin out loud, think positive, will ya Jack! It's not that you really have anything
against dress uniform is it? Okay, so it itches and it's not too comfy, but hell, it ain't
meant to be. It's just all the…other stuff that goes with it ya never liked. But, let's face it,
you've always liked the way ya look in it. And you've always taken pride in what it
represented. So quit griping!
If he had to wear it more as a General, well he'd just have to get used to it. All things
considered, it wasn't a bad gig they were offering. It wasn't *all* paperwork and desk
flying. It was more like…running a frontline field camp in a military campaign. Since the
original Alpha site had been destroyed, it was imperative that they get the Beta site fullly
operational as soon as possible.It would now step up to become the new Alpha site and
Earth's primary offworld base.He was still incredibly pissed about *that*- you spent
*years* getting a place right and then some fuckwit with loose lips brings it all crashing
down around your ears.
They didn't have the luxury of building it up slowly over a period of a few years, like they
had with the original. Getting it up and running so everything could be transferred across
was a matter of priority now. Which meant having a commander there to oversee things
and make sure everything ran smoothly. Maybe not all the time, but certainly for most of
it.
Jack thought back to his recent conversation with Hammond. Hammond thought this
was the perfect position for him. He'd pointed out that Jack had been the one
responsible for overseeing the growth of the first Alpha site. That had only taken up
some of his time, as it's expansion had been slow and gradual over the space of four or
so years. This however, would be much more intensive.Hammond insisted that he *was*
the ideal candidate for the role. It made sense in a way. It had been his baby after all.
He'd just never expected to get it,not with his record,and the situation with Kinsey,and
everything else. Politics was a funny game.
The President was pissed at Kinsey for trying to use his position to further a personal
vendetta. He couldn't reprimand him directly,not without admitting more to the general
public than he wished at the moment. However, promoting Kinsey's main adversary to a
position of authority and influence was a definite slap in the face for the current Vice
President. 'Don't mess with me', was the message it sent. Loud and clear. As much as
Jack loathed being anyone's political pawn, he had to admit, it was one *hell* of a power
play. One that hadn't worked out too badly for him either.
Which was the current problem he was wrestling. It was great to get one over on Kinsey.
But knowing the only reason he'd got the promo was because of political power games
was…galling,not to mention a blow to the ego. Hammond had said it was long overdue
and that the only reason he hadn't got it before was thanks to politics anyway, so he
should take advantage of the situation. But still, pride wanted him to tell them where to
shove it. He wouldn't of course,Ma O'Neill's son was far too practical for that. He knew
the benefits rank brought. Forgetting the personal stuff, (extra money, pension, yada,
blah, what good were they to him anyway?), he could do a helluva lot more for his team
with a star on his shoulder than he could with an eagle. But…it was a nice thought.
Hammond had been pleased for himand way more enthusiastic about the prospect of
Jack being promoted than Jack had himself.
"You deserve it Jack," he had said, eyes sparkling.
"Plus it gets you out from under my feet a little more."
Jack hadn't known whether to feel complimented or insulted. He'd settled for the always
non-committal "Yes sir."
At least it meant Hammond didn't have any doubts about his ability to do the jobthat was
something. For all that he may act the fool, he wasn't. Jack knew what he was capable
of doing, and what he wasn't. In a way, he was glad that Hammond had seen through
the act and was prepared to give him the chance to prove himself. It was nice to know
someone had faith in him still.
Jack allowed a small measure of excitement to leak through and bounced up and down
on his heels. He'd always relished a new challenge, and setting up an offworld base was
nothing if not a challenge. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all…as much as he
loved it, after seven years of non-stop gate travel, it was starting to get old. Ya had one
exciting mission to 5 dull ones ones on a normal average. This would give him
something else to focus on. Stop the boredom setting in, and the complacency. Which
was a killer in the field if you didn't watch out for it.
Yeah, mebbe it was time for something new,and if the powers that be thought a
promotion was necessary to bring that about? Well, hell, who was he to complain really?
Sure it would mean some changes in the status quo, but change was good, stopped you
stagnating.
He felt a thrill of anticipation go through him and checked his watch. He was gonna be a
General! In roughly…40 minutes time, he – Jack O'Neill, pain in the ass extraordinaire -
was gonna exchange his battered eagles for a pair of stars. He was gonna be General.
Brigadier General in fact. Brigadier General Jonathon 'Jack' O'Neill. *Hot Damn*. He
rolled the name around in his head. General Jack O'Neill. Sweet. General Jack. A grin
spread across his face. Yeah, he liked the sound of that….
~~~o0o~~~
A knock at the door interrupted his musings. He looked up as his 2IC poked her head
round the door.
"Hi sir."
"Hey Carter."
He inclined his head giving silent permission for her to enter.
She slipped inside the room, closing the door behind her and stood in front of it. Jack
couldn't help giving her an appreciative once over. She always looked so *good* in dress
uniform. But then she could make BDU's look sexy…. Dragging his mind away from the
gutter – slightly - he cleared his throat.
"So…what can I do ya for?"
She grinned, acknowledging the deliberate mistake.
"More than you can afford, sir."
He waggled his eyebrows slightly. "Oh I dunno. Gonna be a General shortly, ya know."
She gave him a million dollar smile for that and her eyes glittered slightly.
"Yes you are, aren't you sir?" She said quietly.
He swallowed at the tone in her voice. Was that - pride? Surely not….
He looked away and resumed fiddling with his tie.
"Damn useless piece a crap…" He muttered.
A pair of hands appeared in his line of sight. His own hands stilled and he didn't dare
look up.
"Here, let me." She said gently.
He dropped his hands to his sides and let her wrestle with his tie. He raised his gaze,
fastening it on the top of her head. Her gaze was dropped down, concentrating on his
tie. They were stood slightly closer together than was really necessary, but he couldn't
have moved away, even if he had wanted too. Normally he hated people invading his
personal space. His body tensing when they did - glaring at them until they backed off.
But Sam…his instincts didn't seem to mind about her. His body was still relaxed, as if it
was used to her presence. Which wasn't surprising – she'd been welcome there for a
long time.
She chuckled slightly, shaking her head as she straightened the tie. Jack had to struggle
to keep his breathing steady as she smoothed it down his front.
"There, all done." She said lightly.
Raising her eyes back to his, she asked:
"How *do* you manage to have problems with a clip on, sir?"
He shrugged. "It's a knack I guess."
"Yes, I suppose it is." She said.
Her eyes dropped to his shoulder and she moved her hand, brushing a piece of lint off
his uniform jacket. She seemed almost reluctant to break the contact, but he knew she
would. Carter was a professional through and through, it was one the things he loved
about her. Which was why her next move threw him for six.
Instead of pulling back like he expected, she placed her hand firmly against the front of
his shoulder and leant up to press a soft kiss against his cheek, before moving away.
Ungh. Any chance Jack had of forming a coherent sentence flew away with that one
small action. It had been the barest of touches. A quick brush of her lips against his skin.
But combined with the feel of her body pressed up against him – however lightly – the
smell of her shampoo and that scent that was uniquely *Carter*…he could barely *think*
straight, let alone speak.
The only thing he could think about right now, was crowding her back against the door,
his hands on either side of her. Pressing his body up against hers – hard - and *kissing*
her. Properly. Long. Hot. And slow.
But he wouldn't. He *couldn't*. That would look really good wouldn't? Soon-to-be-
promoted Colonel caught on security camera making out with his sub-ordinate. He could
see the impending court martial now…and despite what his body may *want*, he had far
too much respect for her to do something like that.
He took a deep breath and cleared his throat awkwardly, trying desperately to drag his
thoughts into some kind of order. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, instantly rumpling
his jacket.
~~~o0o~~~
"So, um…what was that for?"
A small smile flickered across her lips and she blushed slightly.
"Because I felt like it."
"Ah right."
Silence.
"Well…as nice as it is to see you Carter – which it is. Always."
Okay, *now* he was rambling.
"Err…why are you here?"
The smile turned into a smirk and she looked down at the floor, trying not to laugh.
"General Hammond sent me, sir. He wanted to make sure everything was alright. The
ceremony's in -" Quick watch check. "Thirty-five minutes and nobody had heard or seen
you. So…."
"So, he wanted to make sure I hadn't slipped out the back door or something?"
She laughed. "Something like that, sir."
"He knows me too well." Jack murmured.
"Well with all due respect sir, if the rest of us have to get dressed up for this, then it's
only fair that you do actually turn up for it."
"Hey!" Jack protested. "If *I* have to wear the dreaded dress, so does everybody else!"
She laughed again. "If you say so, sir."
Jack shrugged and studied his toes. "Can't see why they're making such a fuss over it
anyway. It's only a promotion."
A hand reached out to touch his arm. He froze and looked up at her. She was staring at
him, an earnest expression on her face.
"Because you deserve it, sir. And…we're proud of you. We wanted to show you that…."
He took his hands out of his pocket. Best not crumple the jacket too much then.
"Oh well, in *that* case…." He said lightly. "I guess…it's…okay…."
His voice faltered and came to a stop as her hand slid down his arm and her fingers
rested lightly on the back of his hand. He shivered. Ooo, skin to skin contact. And then
had to restrain the desire to roll his eyes. God. *How* sad was he?
"And – " she swallowed, then began again. "And…I just…I just wanted you to know that
I'm proud of you too, sir."
Oh God. She was proud of him. Jack found it difficult to swallow past the lump that had
suddenly appeared in his throat. *She* was *proud* of *him*. Damned if he wasn't
tearing up like some old woman at a wedding. Pathetic didn't even cover it.
He turned his hand over and grasped her fingers with his own. He squeezed them
gently.
"Thanks, Carter." He said quietly.
She gave him a tremulous smile in return. She looked like she was about to start crying
herself. She stepped back to a more appropriate distance and Jack let his hand fall back
to his side.
~~~o0o~~~
Jack stood there and simply looked at her for a moment. This was the other reason why
he would accept the promotion. It didn't just mean change for him. It affected all of them.
Carter most of all, other than himself. As he would be away on the Alpha site, she would
be stepping up to assume joint command of SG-1 with him. He'd discussed it with
Hammond and they both thought this was the best way. Carter would no longer report to
him, except when he was around to lead a team in the field. On base and when she was
leading the team, she would report directly to Hammond as joint team leader.
It didn't change their overall situation too much. But it was a step in the right direction.
And – more importantly – it would give her a true taste of command. Something for
which she was more than ready .
And at the end of year? Well, if the Alpha site was up and running – which he was gonna
make damn sure it would be – odds were he'd become it's CO full time (well four months
on and two months off anyway) and Carter would *finally* get her own command. Of SG-
1. There was no way he was going to hand it over to anyone else, she'd earned it and it
was well overdue. Along with the promotion to go with it. If that didn't happen? Well he'd
– actually he wasn't sure what he'd do, but he was pretty certain it would involve much
shouting and the breaking of a few heads.
And after that…well who knew? But at some point it was *definitely* going to involve a
dinner invite for the woman currently stood in front of him. Jack smiled. Yeah mebbe this
General thing wasn't gonna be too bad after all….
"Best go face the music, huh?"
She smiled. "Yessir."
She pulled herself straight and gave him a textbook salute.
"Congratulations, General sir."
Wow. That sounded weird. It was gonna take some getting used to, that was for sure.
He checked his watch. "A little premature, Carter. There's still twenty minutes to go."
She blushed slightly. "Yes sir, I know. I just wanted to be the first to do it."
Well. Since she put it like that….
Jack stood to attention and snapped off a smart salute of his own in return. Just because
he preferred not to stand on ceremony, didn't mean he couldn't if he wanted.
"I'm honoured, Major."
He grinned evilly as he lowered his hand. "There's still time for Thor to whisk me away
though…"
She scowled. "He'd better bloody not! Not after the amount of effort we've all put into
this."
Jack's grin grew wider. He wouldn't want to be the little guy, if he did!
"It was just wishful thinking, Major."
She cocked her head to one side. "Sir…are you nervous?"
Jack flushed slightly. Dammit! Found out….
He resisted the urge to stick his hands back in his pockets. Might as well be straight with
her.
"Major, I'd rather face a whole battalion of Jaffa."
Sam chuckled and opened her mouth, but her reply was cut off by a loud yell from
outside, making them both jump.
"Jack! I know you're in there – stop hiding and get out here!"
He gave Carter a wry smile. "Ya know, for a supposedly quiet and unassuming
archaeologist, he's certainly gotten gobbier over the past seven years."
She laughed. "Can't imagine who's influence is responsible for *that*, sir."
"Nope." Jack replied innocently. "Not a clue."
He waved his hand at the door. "After you, Major."
She opened the door and walked out. Jack waited a moment before following her. The
moment he stepped out of that door everything would be different. He straightened his
shoulders. He could do this. He *would* do this. And yeah, he *wanted* to do this.
He took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor. Look out kids, General Jack is
on his way. Whether you're ready for him or not….
~~~End~~~
Author: Chezza
E-mail: [email protected]
Status: Complete
Sequel/Series: N/A
Summary: 'To be or not to be?' That is the question….
Season: End Season 7/Beginning Season 8.
Spoilers: Season 6's 'Paradise Lost' and 'Abyss' and Season 7's 'Death Knell', and the
finale – 'The Lost City'. Also spoilers for Jack's potential role during Season 8. If you're
trying to avoid knowing anything about any of the above, then DO NOT read this fic.
Consider yourself warned….
Category: Character Thoughts. L'il bit S/J Friendship.
Characters: Jack O'Neill. Sam Carter.
Pairing: S/J
Rating: PG-13 (for several swear words)
Warnings: The first bit is mainly Jack's thoughts so…Language.
File Size: ?
Archive: Jackfic, Helio, Fanfiction.net, Gateworld, SJD, my site….. If anyone else wants
it, just lemme know where you're taking it, so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine! Surprise…. Stargate and it's characters etc, belong to all those
folks who actually make *money* out of them. Any original stuff in there is mine. Tho'
sadly, it's unlikely to ever bring me any cash….
Authors Notes: This little fic has been kicking around for a while. Originally, the basis of
it formed part of my 'Paperless Office' fic. However, it ended up taking that fic away from
where I wanted it to go, so I took it out. It's been sitting around on my hard drive ever
since, as I haven't had a context in which to do something with it. Until now.
So…thanks go to the folks on the jackfic list who requested the return of the weekly
'opening sentence' challenge, which – combined with the recent reports on 'TLC' and the
news of Season 8 (Yay!) - gave me the idea of how to fit it into a fic. The rest of the story
just sprang from there. It was simply a matter of timing I guess….
As always, thanks go to dragonlady for the beta. Flames will be used to light Teal'c's
candles not like *that*! Get your mind outta the gutter, f'cryin' out loud! but
constructive feedback (and criticism) is always gratefully received. Enjoy!
~~~o0o~~~
'To be a General, or *not* to be a General?' Despite what Shakespeare might have
thought about the mangling of Hamlet's most memorable line, that was the question
currently preying on Jack O'Neill's mind.
He'd assumed for many years now, that if he ever managed to make the rank of
General, it would be as a posthumous award. Which he was okay with, except for the
actual 'dying' part obviously. He'd quit the whole career thing years ago. Sure, it would
be nice to have the stars on his shoulders, but it wasn't as if he really needed them. By
the time you reached Colonel, there were precious few people left who could order you
round. All he'd ever aimed for, was to reach a point where he didn't have to take crap
from every flyboy with a coupla of pips on his shoulder. It never ceased to amaze him
exactly how far he'd come. He'd always expected to be turfed out on his ear for bucking
one too many rules, long before he got to this point. Or pushing up the daisies on some
god forsaken part of the globe. Maybe with a nice little memorial on a well kept military
cemetery somewhere, if he was lucky.
There were definite advantages to not being a General. For example, Generals didn't get
to do field work. Well, except in exceptional circumstances. Like times of war. Hmm…did
the situation with the Goa'uld class as a 'time of war'? Not officially he supposed. But it
wouldn't be the first time the US had engaged in 'unofficial hostile activities'. Hell, he'd
been a participant in a few himself….
But on the whole, field work was generally (ha-ha) a definite no-no. You simply didn't put
the man-in-charge in a position where he (and the knowledge he contained) could easily
be captured – or even killed - by the enemy. It was a bit dumb really. Hence the reason
General's led from the back. Of course, this meant they didn't get stranded on foreign
planets for the better part of a month and upwards. Or tortured to death by sadistic
snakeheads with a nasty predilection for things like pain sticks, acid and knives. Or
came this close to having their brains turn to mush and start leaking out of their ears
thanks to a download of Ancient knowledge. Okay, so there were *some* points in their
favour, but what were the odds of it happening again? Hmm…no comment. Besides they
didn't get to visit new planets every week, *huge* plus on the 'not being a General' side.
And - most importantly - they flew desks.
Sara had always wanted him to go for promotion for that very reason. Granted the extra
money promotion brought in was always welcome when you were trying to raise a
family. 'Not that *that* was an issue anymore,' Jack thought wistfully. Primarily though,
she'd wanted him in a nice safe desk job where she could be certain he would come
home to her, and later to Charlie as well. Some of their biggest knock down fights had
been over that very subject. But…that wasn't who he was, as he had often pointed out.
He thrived on action. The adrenaline rush of combat and the thrill of putting his life on
the line. Sometimes – especially nowadays – the only time he felt truly *alive* was when
he was on the verge of death. She'd known that when she married him, but she'd
thought she could change him. She hadn't and it had become yet another thing they'd
agreed to disagree on. Sometimes towards the end of their marriage, he'd wondered if
Charlie had been the only thing keeping them together.
Oh he'd loved her. Part of him always would. How could you not love the person who
had given you everything you'd ever wanted in life? But sometimes that simply wasn't
enough. Which was why it hadn't really come as a surprise that they'd torn each other
apart after Charlie had…died. Jack ignored the small twinge the thought always caused.
It would still hurt when he was old enough to be a Grandpa.
He smiled wryly. That's not so far away now, Jack…. He wasn't stupid. Jack knew if he
stayed as a Colonel, he would have maybe 2 more years (if his luck held) as a field
commander - at the most - and then that was it. It was just the way things worked. You
reached the big five-oh and you were no longer considered 'field-worthy'. Why? Because
the fitness levels simply weren't there any longer. Jack knew it. Hell, he could feel it
*now* whenever they'd had a particularly lousy mission. AIf your physical fitness wasn't
up to scratch, then you were a liability in the field. To yourself and to your team, and
*that* was simply unacceptable. Better to step aside than get someone you cared about
killed, because you were too proud to admit that you weren't up to the job any more. He
hadn't been joking when – after they'd saved the Earth, yet *again* and he'd nearly died,
yet *again* - he'd told Danny he was getting too old for this shit.
Which brought them to the here and now. Today. He still had time. He could still say no
to it all and walk away, but then what? All it would do was defer the problem for another
coupla years. He sincerely doubted he'd be offered this opportunity again. Not if he'd
already turned it down – yet *again*, hmm…he was sensing a pattern here - because it
wasn't convenient for him at the time. Yeah, he was sure *that* would go down really
well…not.
And then what? He'd either have to retire gracefully again (soo not gonna happen), or fly
a desk. He was still working on other options, but frankly? It wasn't looking promising. It
was this, or nuthin. Trouble was, as far as Jack was concerned, further promotion had
one mighty big drawback that far outstripped anything else: paperwork.
Jack considered himself a field commander. Always had done, always would. He led
from the front, not the back. He wasn't the type of guy to sit around shuffling papers,
whilst he sent others into danger in his place. It didn't sit right. He didn't believe in asking
someone to do anything he wasn't prepared to do himself. It was a CO's job to protect
the people under his command. The thought of it being the other way round made him
uneasy. Not least because he didn't want someone else dying for him. Not when he
wasn't worth it.
~~~o0o~~~
Jack tugged at his tie trying to get it to hang straight. He didn't have much success.
Damn dress uniform. No matter how hard he tried - ironed, starched, whatever - the
moment he put the bloody thing on, it always gained that slightly rumpled look. Last time
he'd groused about it, Daniel had suggested it was the person not the uniform. Flamin'
civilian! What did he know? He got to wear a normal suit…
And that was another thing. If being a black ops officer had had one advantage it was
that ya didn't have to wear 'the dreaded dress' too often. Hell, he'd probably worn it more
in the past seven years than he had in the whole ten years before that. Being a General
tho'? Oh yeah, he could see himself having to wear it a helluva lot more. At official
functions. Air Force balls. Meetings in 'the halls of power'. All the things he'd tried to stay
away from. He shuddered, then gave himself a mental slap.
For cryin out loud, think positive, will ya Jack! It's not that you really have anything
against dress uniform is it? Okay, so it itches and it's not too comfy, but hell, it ain't
meant to be. It's just all the…other stuff that goes with it ya never liked. But, let's face it,
you've always liked the way ya look in it. And you've always taken pride in what it
represented. So quit griping!
If he had to wear it more as a General, well he'd just have to get used to it. All things
considered, it wasn't a bad gig they were offering. It wasn't *all* paperwork and desk
flying. It was more like…running a frontline field camp in a military campaign. Since the
original Alpha site had been destroyed, it was imperative that they get the Beta site fullly
operational as soon as possible.It would now step up to become the new Alpha site and
Earth's primary offworld base.He was still incredibly pissed about *that*- you spent
*years* getting a place right and then some fuckwit with loose lips brings it all crashing
down around your ears.
They didn't have the luxury of building it up slowly over a period of a few years, like they
had with the original. Getting it up and running so everything could be transferred across
was a matter of priority now. Which meant having a commander there to oversee things
and make sure everything ran smoothly. Maybe not all the time, but certainly for most of
it.
Jack thought back to his recent conversation with Hammond. Hammond thought this
was the perfect position for him. He'd pointed out that Jack had been the one
responsible for overseeing the growth of the first Alpha site. That had only taken up
some of his time, as it's expansion had been slow and gradual over the space of four or
so years. This however, would be much more intensive.Hammond insisted that he *was*
the ideal candidate for the role. It made sense in a way. It had been his baby after all.
He'd just never expected to get it,not with his record,and the situation with Kinsey,and
everything else. Politics was a funny game.
The President was pissed at Kinsey for trying to use his position to further a personal
vendetta. He couldn't reprimand him directly,not without admitting more to the general
public than he wished at the moment. However, promoting Kinsey's main adversary to a
position of authority and influence was a definite slap in the face for the current Vice
President. 'Don't mess with me', was the message it sent. Loud and clear. As much as
Jack loathed being anyone's political pawn, he had to admit, it was one *hell* of a power
play. One that hadn't worked out too badly for him either.
Which was the current problem he was wrestling. It was great to get one over on Kinsey.
But knowing the only reason he'd got the promo was because of political power games
was…galling,not to mention a blow to the ego. Hammond had said it was long overdue
and that the only reason he hadn't got it before was thanks to politics anyway, so he
should take advantage of the situation. But still, pride wanted him to tell them where to
shove it. He wouldn't of course,Ma O'Neill's son was far too practical for that. He knew
the benefits rank brought. Forgetting the personal stuff, (extra money, pension, yada,
blah, what good were they to him anyway?), he could do a helluva lot more for his team
with a star on his shoulder than he could with an eagle. But…it was a nice thought.
Hammond had been pleased for himand way more enthusiastic about the prospect of
Jack being promoted than Jack had himself.
"You deserve it Jack," he had said, eyes sparkling.
"Plus it gets you out from under my feet a little more."
Jack hadn't known whether to feel complimented or insulted. He'd settled for the always
non-committal "Yes sir."
At least it meant Hammond didn't have any doubts about his ability to do the jobthat was
something. For all that he may act the fool, he wasn't. Jack knew what he was capable
of doing, and what he wasn't. In a way, he was glad that Hammond had seen through
the act and was prepared to give him the chance to prove himself. It was nice to know
someone had faith in him still.
Jack allowed a small measure of excitement to leak through and bounced up and down
on his heels. He'd always relished a new challenge, and setting up an offworld base was
nothing if not a challenge. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all…as much as he
loved it, after seven years of non-stop gate travel, it was starting to get old. Ya had one
exciting mission to 5 dull ones ones on a normal average. This would give him
something else to focus on. Stop the boredom setting in, and the complacency. Which
was a killer in the field if you didn't watch out for it.
Yeah, mebbe it was time for something new,and if the powers that be thought a
promotion was necessary to bring that about? Well, hell, who was he to complain really?
Sure it would mean some changes in the status quo, but change was good, stopped you
stagnating.
He felt a thrill of anticipation go through him and checked his watch. He was gonna be a
General! In roughly…40 minutes time, he – Jack O'Neill, pain in the ass extraordinaire -
was gonna exchange his battered eagles for a pair of stars. He was gonna be General.
Brigadier General in fact. Brigadier General Jonathon 'Jack' O'Neill. *Hot Damn*. He
rolled the name around in his head. General Jack O'Neill. Sweet. General Jack. A grin
spread across his face. Yeah, he liked the sound of that….
~~~o0o~~~
A knock at the door interrupted his musings. He looked up as his 2IC poked her head
round the door.
"Hi sir."
"Hey Carter."
He inclined his head giving silent permission for her to enter.
She slipped inside the room, closing the door behind her and stood in front of it. Jack
couldn't help giving her an appreciative once over. She always looked so *good* in dress
uniform. But then she could make BDU's look sexy…. Dragging his mind away from the
gutter – slightly - he cleared his throat.
"So…what can I do ya for?"
She grinned, acknowledging the deliberate mistake.
"More than you can afford, sir."
He waggled his eyebrows slightly. "Oh I dunno. Gonna be a General shortly, ya know."
She gave him a million dollar smile for that and her eyes glittered slightly.
"Yes you are, aren't you sir?" She said quietly.
He swallowed at the tone in her voice. Was that - pride? Surely not….
He looked away and resumed fiddling with his tie.
"Damn useless piece a crap…" He muttered.
A pair of hands appeared in his line of sight. His own hands stilled and he didn't dare
look up.
"Here, let me." She said gently.
He dropped his hands to his sides and let her wrestle with his tie. He raised his gaze,
fastening it on the top of her head. Her gaze was dropped down, concentrating on his
tie. They were stood slightly closer together than was really necessary, but he couldn't
have moved away, even if he had wanted too. Normally he hated people invading his
personal space. His body tensing when they did - glaring at them until they backed off.
But Sam…his instincts didn't seem to mind about her. His body was still relaxed, as if it
was used to her presence. Which wasn't surprising – she'd been welcome there for a
long time.
She chuckled slightly, shaking her head as she straightened the tie. Jack had to struggle
to keep his breathing steady as she smoothed it down his front.
"There, all done." She said lightly.
Raising her eyes back to his, she asked:
"How *do* you manage to have problems with a clip on, sir?"
He shrugged. "It's a knack I guess."
"Yes, I suppose it is." She said.
Her eyes dropped to his shoulder and she moved her hand, brushing a piece of lint off
his uniform jacket. She seemed almost reluctant to break the contact, but he knew she
would. Carter was a professional through and through, it was one the things he loved
about her. Which was why her next move threw him for six.
Instead of pulling back like he expected, she placed her hand firmly against the front of
his shoulder and leant up to press a soft kiss against his cheek, before moving away.
Ungh. Any chance Jack had of forming a coherent sentence flew away with that one
small action. It had been the barest of touches. A quick brush of her lips against his skin.
But combined with the feel of her body pressed up against him – however lightly – the
smell of her shampoo and that scent that was uniquely *Carter*…he could barely *think*
straight, let alone speak.
The only thing he could think about right now, was crowding her back against the door,
his hands on either side of her. Pressing his body up against hers – hard - and *kissing*
her. Properly. Long. Hot. And slow.
But he wouldn't. He *couldn't*. That would look really good wouldn't? Soon-to-be-
promoted Colonel caught on security camera making out with his sub-ordinate. He could
see the impending court martial now…and despite what his body may *want*, he had far
too much respect for her to do something like that.
He took a deep breath and cleared his throat awkwardly, trying desperately to drag his
thoughts into some kind of order. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, instantly rumpling
his jacket.
~~~o0o~~~
"So, um…what was that for?"
A small smile flickered across her lips and she blushed slightly.
"Because I felt like it."
"Ah right."
Silence.
"Well…as nice as it is to see you Carter – which it is. Always."
Okay, *now* he was rambling.
"Err…why are you here?"
The smile turned into a smirk and she looked down at the floor, trying not to laugh.
"General Hammond sent me, sir. He wanted to make sure everything was alright. The
ceremony's in -" Quick watch check. "Thirty-five minutes and nobody had heard or seen
you. So…."
"So, he wanted to make sure I hadn't slipped out the back door or something?"
She laughed. "Something like that, sir."
"He knows me too well." Jack murmured.
"Well with all due respect sir, if the rest of us have to get dressed up for this, then it's
only fair that you do actually turn up for it."
"Hey!" Jack protested. "If *I* have to wear the dreaded dress, so does everybody else!"
She laughed again. "If you say so, sir."
Jack shrugged and studied his toes. "Can't see why they're making such a fuss over it
anyway. It's only a promotion."
A hand reached out to touch his arm. He froze and looked up at her. She was staring at
him, an earnest expression on her face.
"Because you deserve it, sir. And…we're proud of you. We wanted to show you that…."
He took his hands out of his pocket. Best not crumple the jacket too much then.
"Oh well, in *that* case…." He said lightly. "I guess…it's…okay…."
His voice faltered and came to a stop as her hand slid down his arm and her fingers
rested lightly on the back of his hand. He shivered. Ooo, skin to skin contact. And then
had to restrain the desire to roll his eyes. God. *How* sad was he?
"And – " she swallowed, then began again. "And…I just…I just wanted you to know that
I'm proud of you too, sir."
Oh God. She was proud of him. Jack found it difficult to swallow past the lump that had
suddenly appeared in his throat. *She* was *proud* of *him*. Damned if he wasn't
tearing up like some old woman at a wedding. Pathetic didn't even cover it.
He turned his hand over and grasped her fingers with his own. He squeezed them
gently.
"Thanks, Carter." He said quietly.
She gave him a tremulous smile in return. She looked like she was about to start crying
herself. She stepped back to a more appropriate distance and Jack let his hand fall back
to his side.
~~~o0o~~~
Jack stood there and simply looked at her for a moment. This was the other reason why
he would accept the promotion. It didn't just mean change for him. It affected all of them.
Carter most of all, other than himself. As he would be away on the Alpha site, she would
be stepping up to assume joint command of SG-1 with him. He'd discussed it with
Hammond and they both thought this was the best way. Carter would no longer report to
him, except when he was around to lead a team in the field. On base and when she was
leading the team, she would report directly to Hammond as joint team leader.
It didn't change their overall situation too much. But it was a step in the right direction.
And – more importantly – it would give her a true taste of command. Something for
which she was more than ready .
And at the end of year? Well, if the Alpha site was up and running – which he was gonna
make damn sure it would be – odds were he'd become it's CO full time (well four months
on and two months off anyway) and Carter would *finally* get her own command. Of SG-
1. There was no way he was going to hand it over to anyone else, she'd earned it and it
was well overdue. Along with the promotion to go with it. If that didn't happen? Well he'd
– actually he wasn't sure what he'd do, but he was pretty certain it would involve much
shouting and the breaking of a few heads.
And after that…well who knew? But at some point it was *definitely* going to involve a
dinner invite for the woman currently stood in front of him. Jack smiled. Yeah mebbe this
General thing wasn't gonna be too bad after all….
"Best go face the music, huh?"
She smiled. "Yessir."
She pulled herself straight and gave him a textbook salute.
"Congratulations, General sir."
Wow. That sounded weird. It was gonna take some getting used to, that was for sure.
He checked his watch. "A little premature, Carter. There's still twenty minutes to go."
She blushed slightly. "Yes sir, I know. I just wanted to be the first to do it."
Well. Since she put it like that….
Jack stood to attention and snapped off a smart salute of his own in return. Just because
he preferred not to stand on ceremony, didn't mean he couldn't if he wanted.
"I'm honoured, Major."
He grinned evilly as he lowered his hand. "There's still time for Thor to whisk me away
though…"
She scowled. "He'd better bloody not! Not after the amount of effort we've all put into
this."
Jack's grin grew wider. He wouldn't want to be the little guy, if he did!
"It was just wishful thinking, Major."
She cocked her head to one side. "Sir…are you nervous?"
Jack flushed slightly. Dammit! Found out….
He resisted the urge to stick his hands back in his pockets. Might as well be straight with
her.
"Major, I'd rather face a whole battalion of Jaffa."
Sam chuckled and opened her mouth, but her reply was cut off by a loud yell from
outside, making them both jump.
"Jack! I know you're in there – stop hiding and get out here!"
He gave Carter a wry smile. "Ya know, for a supposedly quiet and unassuming
archaeologist, he's certainly gotten gobbier over the past seven years."
She laughed. "Can't imagine who's influence is responsible for *that*, sir."
"Nope." Jack replied innocently. "Not a clue."
He waved his hand at the door. "After you, Major."
She opened the door and walked out. Jack waited a moment before following her. The
moment he stepped out of that door everything would be different. He straightened his
shoulders. He could do this. He *would* do this. And yeah, he *wanted* to do this.
He took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor. Look out kids, General Jack is
on his way. Whether you're ready for him or not….
~~~End~~~