This is a short follow-up to my story Another Lost on a Planet Fic. You'll probably want to read that one first (although it's long). This is a Jon O'Neill story – something I've never done before but while I was sick I re-read my story and it felt like it was unfinished. I hope you will give it a read. I'll be back to my other stories shortly.

He didn't know whether to feel better or worse after meeting up with his old team again and especially after visiting Charlie. He appreciated what Jack – the original Jack – had done, but in a way it had opened up a door he'd kept firmly shut over the last few years.

In the long-run he knew he would be glad. Not visiting Charlie had left a huge hole he'd refused to acknowledge, but which was waiting behind that door and would one day have come out and bit him in the ass. He laughed at his mixed metaphors. No, this was better.

Of course now a whole bunch of other worms had been let loose. It had been so good to spend time with Teal'c and Danny – he refused to think about Carter. Now spending time with Jack, that was just plain weird. He guessed the two of them were like close twins who knew one another really well. In their case they knew each other really really well. Hell, he knew everything about Jack, at least up until the time they'd been – what – split?

He had to keep reminding himself that during the last few years he'd created his own life. He was a different person now – a younger person – with an entire life ahead of him. He should take some pleasure out of that and not let the fact that he'd lost everything matter.

But it did and that made him mad.

Okay – so just let yourself go there Ja – Jon – he had to remember he was Jon now. He walked quickly to the kitchen and grabbed a Guinness – one of the few dozen that had appeared on his doorstep – and decided to get drunk. "Yup – I'm gonna get drunk and I'm gonna feel sorry for myself because he got everything. He got my life and he got Carter." He toasted his absent clone. "To you, you lucky bastard." He took a long swig of beer and sat on the couch.

By morning he had a terrible headache and a mouth that felt like a sewer – and of course he felt even more depressed. He looked at his watch and groaned. Classes started up today and he was going to be late if he didn't hurry.

By the time he made it to campus he was feeling a bit better. A few aspirin and as many glasses of water had him feeling semi-normal, although still depressed. He knew he'd get over it. In fact he was going to make damn sure he got over it. Carter and Jack were married and they weren't going to give him a clone of her. There was no point pining, because that was life.

A small, unacknowledged part of him realized that he would be okay. It was true that he'd had feelings for his 2IC – okay, okay Jack's 2IC, for many years. But it hadn't ever gone anywhere, hadn't been allowed to – to blossom. He knew that Sam and Jack had spent a year together on that planet and during that time their love had grown and become real. For him it was – a yearning, a longing which he had never thought would become real anyway. Maybe it was just seeing the two of them together that had hurt so badly. And yet, strangely enough, it also made him happy. It was as if – in some strange way – his own fantasy had been fulfilled.

"You're an idiot", he said to himself.

"I'm sure you're not", a voice beside him murmured quietly.

Jon looked up quickly, to see a petite, brown-haired woman smiling at him. She was carrying a briefcase and looked like she must be a professor. She was cute – in some ways she reminded him of Janet Frasier, although it was more of the twinkle in her brown eyes than any specific resemblance (other than height).

"Uh – sorry?" he asked, not sure what she'd said.

"Well, you sounded like you were calling yourself a name – but you don't at all seem like an idiot to me."

He grinned at that. "Well, you're one of the few who would say that", he told her.

"Really?" her eyebrows went up and she grinned. "Well I always liked to stand out in a crowd."

He laughed again and thought briefly that she seemed like an interesting woman. He wondered if she was single.

"Uh, are you going to class?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah." He looked down at the paper in his hand. "English 301 – Comedy, from Aristophanes to the Marx Brothers. How about you?"

"Mmm hmm. That's where I'm going too", she told him.

"You're taking that class?" Things were looking he decided.

"No." She smiled at him and tilted her head. "I'm teaching it. I'm doctor Margaret Rousseau."

It was at that moment that it hit him, square between the eyes. He hadn't even thought of it when he'd first started speaking with her, but Dr Rousseau looked like she was in her mid to late forties. He blinked a couple of times realizing that to her he was a young kid – young enough to be her son. The depression returned.

"Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. Late night."

She laughed "You college kids – I remember when I could stay up all night and then study all day. Unfortunately those days are gone."

"Yeah", he said softly. By this time they'd reached the classroom and she said a quick goodbye and made her way to the front of the class.

Jon didn't get much out of the class that day – his thoughts on his life and how lost he suddenly felt.

Everyone thought he was so lucky to have regained his youth. It would have been fine, if his mind wer also that of a twenty-year old. But inside his youthful body he was a fifty plus man, with more experience than anyone should have. He'd been married, divorced, had and lost a child, spent years fighting and then another bunch of years traveling through space. And the world around him saw him as an inexperienced kid.

How could he ever have a relationship? Girls his – physical – age didn't interest him. They were too silly, too vapid. And women of his mental age thought he was a young punk. He supposed he could find some older woman who was interested in younger men, but somehow he didn't think he'd be interested in them.

Nope – he was out of luck.

Over the next few weeks he continued to attend Dr. Rousseau's class and found it incredibly enjoyable. She was an engaging and interesting teaher and had an incredible sense of humor. He couldn't ever remember laughing so much through any class and he wasn't the only one. Her courses were packed and he found out she was one of the most popular professors on campus.

The frustrating thing was the more that he watched her, the more he liked her – and the more attractive he found her. He knew things were bad when he had a dream about brown eyes, rather than blue for the first time in years.

"Damn it Jon, get a grip!"

Still, as much as he tried to talk himself out of it, in the end he caved in. He found her sitting in the cafeteria one day, having coffee by herself and decided 'what the hell'. He made his way over to her table.

"Dr. Rousseau?"

"Oh, hi. It's – Jon, right?"

"That's right. Mind if I join you?"

"Of course", she smiled at him. "It's nice to have company." She waited for him to put his books down and sit across from her. "So, how is your semester going?"

That began the first of many times they spent together, usually talking about the course and literature although sometimes they wandered into other topics. At no time was there anything inappropriate discussed and the professor treated him as one of her students. For him though, things were different.

He was falling in love with her.

He'd rarely met a woman so intelligent, so strong and yet so gentle. The only other person he'd met like that was Carter, even though they were different in many other ways. But one thing was the same. It was a relationship with no hope, no chance to move beyond friendship.

What the hell was wrong with his life that he only fell for women he couldn't have? He was pretty sure a psychologist would know what it meant, but all it meant to him was that he was cursed.

Probably the thing he liked – hell loved about Meg (she had told him that's what her friends called her – of course he never had, even though that's how he thought of her) was her sense of humor. She kept him laughing all the time – and what was equally as charming was the fact that he could make her laugh as well. Again, the only other woman who had enjoyed his humor quite that much was Carter.

And he had to stop thinking about Sam. She belonged to Jack now, and he realized he was no longer in love with her, although she'd always hold a special place in his heart.

At that he smiled softly. He now had two women like that in his heart – Sara and Sam. He would always love them both, although he was no longer in love with either. In some ways that was a relief.

But then he thought again of Meg – and cursed. Maybe he could convince her that he was older than he seemed? Right – maybe 23 or 24 at the most. He sighed. He needed to figure this out before it got too much worse.

"There's a new exhibit of Renaissance painters at the museum", he told her one day at coffee. "I – uh – wondered if you'd be interested? Someone gave me a couple of tickets …"

"You don't have some sweet young thing who'd like to go with you?" she smiled.

He grimaced. "No. I'm afraid I can't bear to spend the evening hearing "like, you know" a million times."

She laughed at that. "You're too cruel."

"I'm not. I swear if I hear the word 'like' one more time I may just roll over dead."

She giggled at that. "I know. It drives me a bit crazy too. The good news is they grow out of it."

"God, I hope so."

"So, no sweet young thing?"

"No. I'm uh – older than I appear you know", he told her.

"Really?" She looked at him in surprise, but then nodded. "You do seem older than your years. I bet you were an only child."

"I was", he said in surprise, although inside he thought about Jack and had to stop himself from grinning. In a way he now had a brother – an older, very irritating brother.

"Mmm hmm – and I bet your parents were older when you were born?"

Well, in a way that was true – in fact they were dead when he was - created. But they hadn't been that old when he – ur – Jack was born. "So, what about the museum?"

She sighed and thought about it for a moment. "Okay", she said. "I've been wanting to go so – thank you. When did you want to go?"

For the next couple of months they did a few things together, but never anything that could be construed as a 'date'. There was no romance and she continued to treat him as one of her students – a favorite student maybe – but certainly not as a potential boyfriend.

He continued to talk to himself, to tell himself to stop. He knew that there was nothing at the end of this but pain for him, but that didn't seem to matter. All he could think about was Meg.

"Hey?" he found her sitting outside on a bench one afternoon, the late autumn air rather chilly. "Are you okay Dr. Rousseau?" He sat down beside her, noticing suddenly how tired she was looking. In fact, it suddenly dawned on him that she'd looked more and more tired over the last few weeks.

"Hmm? I'm fine. Just been busy with mid-terms. How did yours go?"

"Oh, fine", he said, looking at her closely. She seemed more than tired – there was a grayness about her skin that he didn't like. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should go home and rest?"

"Jon – I'm fine. Stop worrying. Now, don't you have to be in class?"

He did, but didn't want to leave her. There was something bothering him, although he couldn't put his finger on it. But he'd always had a good sense when things were wrong – it had saved his butt on more than one occasion.

"Nothing important", he shrugged. "Come on. It's chilly out here. Let's go get a cup of coffee."

"Jon!" she laughed as he pulled her to her feet. "You're not my mother you know!"

"I know – but you obviously need someone to watch out for you. Come on – doesn't a hot cup of coffee sound good?"

In the end he convinced her to sit with him in the cafeteria and have something to eat and drink. After an hour she started to look better and he relaxed. Maybe she had just been really tired.

Over the next few weeks he watched her closely, still worried at her lack of energy. Her classes were still good, but not quite as energetic as they had been at the beginning of the term. The others didn't seem to notice, so he didn't say anything.

He'd found out, purely by accident, that Meg loved opera. She was especially fond of Puccini and they'd had quite a few rousing conversations about the composer and his operas. When he heard that Puccini's Madame Butterfly was playing he'd invited her to go with him. He'd claimed that none of his friends were into opera and he didn't want to go alone.

She looked at him thoughtfully for quite a few minutes and he'd thought she was going to refuse, but finally she'd gotten a small smile on her face and nodded. "That would be nice."

He picked her up before the opera – deciding that he wouldn't push it by asking her to dinner as that would seem too much like a date. He had to restrain himself from saying more than "she looked nice" although he was actually wowed by how gorgeous she was. She had simply smiled and told him he looked nice too.

He grimaced as he walked around the car to get in. Nice – god, he was an idiot. What did he think he was doing? She thought of him as a kid.

The opera was wonderful – he supposed, although most of the time he was more aware of the person beside him than what was on stage. He so wanted to put his arm around her, but knew that would not be acceptable to Dr. Rousseau. Instead he allowed his mind to wander, the strains of music adding to his sense of sadness and loss.

"That was beautiful. Thank you Jon", she said quietly as they followed the crowd out. "I've never seen it live before."

"No? It's one of my favorites."

"Mine too", she grinned, "but I've only listened to it. It was – amazing."

They chatted as he drove her home and he was grateful that she lived on the other side of the city. It gave him a few more minutes to cherish the allusion of them.

"So Jon – is your family here?" she asked. He was a bit surprised as it was one of the first personal questions she'd ever asked him.

"No real family, I'm afraid", he answered, "although I do have an Uncle." He suddenly grinned. "Uncle Jack – kind of the family scoundrel."

"Really? What does he do?"

"Oh, he's a Colonel in the Air Force."

"And he's a scoundrel?"

"Mmm", he grinned again. "He's actually a great guy. A lot like me really."

"So, you're a scoundrel are you?"

He glanced at her and winked. "Of course." After a moment he spoke. "How about you? Any family close by?"

"No", she said softly. "Not really. My parents died a few years ago. I have an older sister, but we lost touch. We were always very different and she's quite a bit older than me."

"That's too bad."

"It's okay", she smiled. "I dealt with that years ago."

"And never married?" he asked, although he winced slightly. He was pretty sure that was inappropriate.

She didn't seem to mind though, and answered him calmly enough. "Divorced. It was years ago."

"I'm sorry", he said again.

"It's okay. You get over it."

"Maybe, but I think it always hurts. It's the loss of – dreams and hope."

"Yes. You almost sound like you know."

He shrugged. There's no way she would believe him if he told her, so instead he avoided it. "I'm surprised someone else didn't snap you up." Okay Jon – stop. What the hell made you say that!

"Thank you – that's sweet", she replied "But – I", she looked down. "My husband left me for another woman – a woman who could give him a child. That's – that's why he left. I couldn't have children."

"God – and he left you. What an ass!"

"Thank you", she laughed softly. "I thought so too. He knew, before we were married and told me it didn't matter. It obviously did. After that I'm afraid – I found it hard to trust again." He saw her take a deep breath and turn to him. "But I'm growing maudlin and I'm sure this is way too much information. I decided to focus on my career instead, and that's been very fulfilling. I love teaching."

"I can tell. You're very good at it. In fact, I'd say you're one of the best professors I've ever had."

"Why – thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

"From me?" he asked, surprised.

"Mmm – one of the best students I've ever had."

He was pretty sure she was joking, but when he turned to look at her she gazed back at him seriously. "You are, you know. You're a brilliant writer."

"Me?" he laughed. "God, Space Monkey would find that hilarious."

"Space Monkey?"

"Oh, one of my friends. His name is Daniel – but I call him that – it was a private joke. He always teased me because he didn't think I liked anything – intellectual."

"You? He must not know you very well."

"Well, he knew the old me", he said with a slight smirk. "The new me is a bit different."

"The new you? Okay", she smiled. "My street is just ahead."

Damn – he was hoping they had a few more miles – or hundreds of miles to go. But he dutifully turned down her street and parked in front of her house. Without thinking about it he got out of his car and walked around and opened her door and helped her out.

"My – you're quite the gentleman."

"My Momma brought me up right", he told her, feeling a bit embarrassed. He was glad it was dark out. Still, he escorted her to her front door, knowing that this had to be the last time they did this. It was just too hard.

She turned when she got to her door. "Thank you Jon. That was lovely."

He looked down at her – the light from the door making her eyes sparkle. She had a soft smile on her face as she looked up at him.

He couldn't help it. He leaned over and touched her lips with his. He could feel her freeze, for just a second, and then she melted into him, her lips softening under his. The next thing he knew, her arms were around him and they were kissing passionately. It went on for what seemed a long time – and yet too short a time.

Suddenly, without warning, she pulled away, a soft gasp splitting the night.

"No – no, this is wrong", she muttered. "What am I doing?"

"Meg -"

"No – no, I'm your professor. You have to go – go now Jon, please."

"But -"

"NO!" She reached into her purse and grabbed her keys. Without turning to look at him she unlocked the door and pushed it open. She took one step in and stopped. Again, without looking at him she spoke. "No more Jon. From now on stay away from me, please. Thank you for tonight – for the opera. It was lovely – but – that's all." With that she stepped in and turned and closed the door in his face.

He stood there frozen, knowing he'd just screwed up royally. But for a moment – a brief moment – he'd been in heaven.

He turned and walked slowly towards his car. He got in and turned towards home, his body and mind numb.

It was only after he'd gotten home, after he'd looked at the picture of Sara and Charlie, of Kawalsky, of Sg1 that he broke. He sat down in his chair, head in hands, and wept for all that he had lost.

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