Someone *cough flower pot girl cough* mentioned the first couple of dinner dates, so I thought I'd write a little ditty to do with those.

A prequel to The NotSoAwkward Morning After, and as such will be a couple of chapters. We are, after all, covering a couple of dates here.

Enjoy.

The NotSoSudden Dating Stage

Their first date is hardly formal enough or even planned enough to be called a date. In fact, it's born of a mishap. A misunderstanding, if you will. The night is supposed to involve all of the original SG1, and they're to meet at O'Malley's for old time's sake. But two days before it Teal'c informs them he needs to go do something with someone on a planet other than Earth, and even Jack's status as General can't change the fact that the Jaffa they're meeting with are demanding Teal'c's presence. So the plan continues, sans the token alien.

Then, as only Daniel can, he calls them at the last minute and says he's needed at the Smithsonian of all places to collaborate on some Egyptian artefacts, because he's regaining some recognition in the academic field again, and this chance will only come around once.

So Sam and Jack are left sitting in the car park of O'Malley's staring blankly at the entrance, both of them in his truck, and both of them feeling like it's betraying the whole purpose of the night to keep their reservation.

"So... you wanna..."

She nods quickly. "Yeah"

Jack guns the engine and pulls out of the car park, heading for the main road.

"Where to?"

"Your choice, Sir" she replies with a smile, and he's still amazed that after almost a year of him not being on SG1, she still makes his moniker sound more like a pet name than a title.

"You wanna try that new Italian place near yours?"

"There's a new Italian place near mine?"

"You know, one of these days..."

"Yes Sir, I know, I know, I'll get a life"

It's been five days since her father died, three days since she broke up with her Captain America fiancé who is someone's Mr. Right, just not hers, and two days since she laid her father to rest for good, knowing there are no miracle cures this time.

Jack knows she's had her fill of 'life' this week.

"I was gonna say, one of these days you'll eat something other than that God-aweful Chinese shit you call your favourite"

She grins and holds back a giggle at his tone, knowing full well he only hates that particular Chinese takeout because the black bean sauce doesn't agree with him.

"Italian it is" she says, and even though he's looking at the road, he knows she's still smiling.

The dinner is relaxed and breezy, and even though the restaurant has a little more to prove than O'Malley's, they manage to stay unnoticed amid the romantic-dinners-for-two and obligatory birthday dinners for Aunty Pam. There's nothing stereotypically Italian about this place- no overbearing red and white checks on tablecloths or piano-according-playing moustache- men. Except for the items on the menu, painstakingly typed in the traditional spelling, and the faint tones of Pavarotti overhead, the restaurant looks like any other of its type, somewhere between family-dining and expensive-night-out.

They're seated in the back, on a stand-alone table that's jutted up against one of the wide support beams, and even the little candle in the middle of their table can't make this night uncomfortable.

They talk about the trials of being General and about Joe the Barber, about how those promising new recruits of yesteryear have settled in, about how they're feeling about various rumours of who will and will not be retiring soon. They spend a good hour and a half discussing Cassie and the emotional blackhole she's quietly spiralling into as she juggles the responsibilities of adulthood with no adult by her side to guide her. As her pseudo parents they don't question that decisions need to be made with her in mind too, and Jack can't help but find it amusing that, to any eavesdroppers, they surely sound like a divorced couple amicably discussing their daughter's future.

They do not talk about Jacob, Pete, Kerry, or the fact that it looks like SG1 as they know it may be no more by the end of the year.

They do not talk about the possibilities that such a change could bring to them.

They do not talk about 'them'.

By the time they pull up behind Sam's Volvo, its well past midnight and the conversation, if allowed, could go all night. Jack kills the engine, and when Sam undoes her belt he does the same. She looks at him, but he's prepared.

"I'll walk you to the door" he says casually, flicking his hand in the general direction as he undoes his belt with the other. If it weren't for the fact that he'd driven her home at the same hour just two nights ago, and held her as she finally allowed the grief to hit while stepping inside, she might just believe that the gesture was only about a desire to make the evening linger a little longer.

But she knows it's more than that, and she's sure that he has no idea just how comforting it feels to know he'll always have her back, even as she walks from the footpath to her front door.

He says a friendly goodbye once she's turned off her alarm, flicked the porch light on and is leaning on the doorframe waiting for that awkward moment of silence. He doesn't linger, and he's not yet to his car when he hears the door shut with a click as the deadbolt flicks over.

He's pretty sure he can feel her eyes on his back, but when he looks back her lace curtains are all still in their frames and no blonde heads seem to be peaking out, though there are no lights on in the front rooms, so who could tell.

He drives away, and once his taillights are past the hedges of the house two doors up, Sam turns back to her darkened monitor and decides not to turn on the computer after all, choosing instead to call it a night.