Title: One Carter, two Jack's.

Summary: Clone Jack, Sam, and Jack… oh my! Sam/Jack

Disclaimer for my story: Stargate SG-1 is the property of MGM. Neither Jessie or I received any monentary compensation for writing this. Any similarities between this story and any other are unintentional. The answer to life is 42. J

Rating: T for safety

Season 8

Spoilers: All- primarily Season 7's Fragile Balance.

Pairings: Slight S/P- S/J mainly!

A/N: Okay! Well, first of all, I can't take all the credit for this story… not even most of it. This story outline and parts of it was written by an Internet Sci-Fi friend named Jessie; she got tired of it, offered it to me, and I just added the rest. She wrote the majority of the last two chapters, which I think are absolutely terrific, so, thank you, Jess, for letting me finish this! SAM/JACK FOREVER!

Chapter 1: How it all began…

Monday, 1534.

"Colonel Carter?" interrupted a young Airman as he entered the briefing room, "Urgent phone call for you in the next room."

Sam Carter glanced at the Airman. "Thank you," she said with a small smile, "Dismissed."

As he left, she looked around the room at the new recruits the S.G.C had brought in. They were currently listening to her briefing about the Daedalus to which many of them would be eventually transferred. "Excuse me," she said, turning off her microphone. "I'll be back in a moment." She slipped out of the room and entered the next room- a recently restored storeroom turned office. The phone laid on the table.

"Colonel Carter speaking."

"Hello, ma'am," a voice she had never heard before began, "I'm sorry to disturb you- I'm trying to reach a Major Samantha Carter…" there was a question in her voice.

"That's me," Sam confirmed, "I was recently promoted- what's this about?"

"Ma'am, I'm a nurse at Colorado Springs Memorial." The woman hesitated for a moment, "I'm calling because we've admitted a Jonathan O'Neill and you are listed as his emergency contact-"

"What happened?" she demanded.

"There was a car accident, I-"

The nurse heard a dial tone and slowly hung up.

Å

Carter walked quickly through the front door of the hospital and stopped at the front desk of the ER. A harassed looked woman sat there.

"Excuse me," Sam started, trying to get the lady's attention, "I'm looking for a Jack O'Neill."

The women, whose name tag read 'Marjorie', looked up. "A Jonathan O'Neill was admitted an hour ago- is that who you're talking about?"

"Yes," Carter said quickly, "can I see him?"

Marjorie stared at the computer screen and then nodded. "Yes." She gave her directions and then added, "He's got a slight concussion- if he seems a little different, don't worry- it's normal. The bed nearest the window."

Sam nodded her understanding and hurried down the hall. Once outside the door, she took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Three beds and various medical equipment filled the middle sized room. Two of the beds were empty, while the third had the curtains drawn. Trying not to imagine the worst, she softly walked to the bedside and pulled back the curtain.

She promptly stepped back.

A boy about seventeen laid on the bed, a restless look on his face. Sam automatically assessed his injuries- his right leg was broken, arms scratched when the pieces of glass had cut him, a bandage wrapped around his forehead. He looked at her, expressionless.

"I'm so sorry," Sam began, surprised, "Wrong room I guess." She looked around at the obviously empty room. "I'm sorry," she repeated, turning around. She had only moved a few feet when the boy called after her. "Carter—wait."

She froze in mid-step. Turning around slowly, she scrutinized the boy carefully. "Have-have we met?" she managed to get out. He was vaguely familiar…

"Surely you haven't forgotten me already," he said, almost mockingly. "It hasn't been that long. A year and a month… give or take a few weeks."

Sam was still standing a few feet from his bed and staring with her mouth open. "Oh my god… sir…"

"I'm not your CO," he snapped as he waved for her to come closer.

Carter hesitated then obeyed. "I-I… are you okay? H-how've you been?"

"Just peachy," he muttered. "Why the hell are you here?"

Sam cocked her head. "They called me."

"I didn't tell them to," he said instantly.

"I guess you still had my contact information- in case of an emergency."

The boy looked down, his cheeks now tinged a slight red. "Oh, yeah… sorry."

Carter hesitated and then pulled up a chair. "So," she began, "need anything, sir? Jack-Jonathan…" she trailed off. "What do people call you?"

"I go by John," the clone said, "John." He fingered the remote and raised his bed. "You don't have to stay, Carter, I'm fine. Just a scratch… I'll live."

She raised an eyebrow. "You have a broken leg, a concussion - who knows what else?"

"I'm fine," came the whiny and repetitive reply. "Go… play at your lab or whatever. Don't blow anything up."

"When do you get out?" she asked. "Day after tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, actually," he said. "Tomorrow afternoon."

"How are you getting home?"

John met her eyes for a second and then looked away. "I'll… I'll call my uh… girlfriend. Yeah, Mary… she's great."

"You're a bad liar, John," she said cheerfully. "What time do you get out?"

"Not telling."

She smiled at the juvenile reply. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I can just get a cab," John insisted, "The Air Force is taking care of everything. Just… go back to your happy life… and leave me alone."

Carter looked rather taken back by the bitter reply. "It's not a big deal, I-"

"I'm fine."

She sighed. Looking at John, she saw determination on his face. "Okay," she said quietly. "But..." She rummaged through her purse, pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something down. "My new cell number," she explained, handing it to him. "If you need anything- call me."

"I'm-"

"Fine," Sam finished. "I know. Just… if you ever need to talk."

John stared at his cast. "'Kay," he said quietly.

Satisfied that he wasn't going to scribble it out, she quietly departed. Outside of his room, a doctor halted her.

"Are you his mother?"

She had to bite back a sudden laugh. She had never been asked that before. "No… just… an old family friend." Sam glanced at his clipboard. "You're John's doctor- how is he?"

"He'll be fine," the doctor assured her. "Teenagers are resilient- He'll be up and around in no time. You know-" he hesitated. "No one else has been to see him-no family, friends… not even a teacher or a coworker… is there someone we should call?"

Sam felt a stab of guilt. After CO had been revealed to be still alive and that the clone… was just a clone, SG-1 had rather abandoned the kid, leaving the Air Force to take care of 'it'. She knew that General O'Neill received bi-yearly reports on John but she hadn't even bothered to ask about him. The doctor's words registered.

"No one?" She found that rather hard to believe- he was a cute kid. Surely he had a girlfriend… despite his earlier lie about 'Mary'.

"Not that I know of," he hesitated again, "In fact, we almost didn't call you. When he found out we were going to contact you, he insisted that we not- that you had no legal responsibility over him… but when we were stitching the cut on his forehead, and he kept mumbling 'Carter,' 'Carter'- well, we figured we better call you."

She swallowed hard. "He did?"

"Yes." Noting the conflicting emotions on the Colonel's face, the doctor asked, "Are you all right, Miss Carter?"

"I'm fine," came the barely audible reply. "What time will he be released tomorrow?"

Å

Tuesday morning, 1000.

"Oh crap," John O'Neill muttered. "Just open, will ya?"

The automatic doors to the Colorado Springs Memorial finally parted and the boy hobbled out. He had called for a cab nearly thirty minutes ago, and it should be waiting…
He looked over at the corner and saw an elderly couple entering the taxi. With a sigh of frustration, he dug though his pockets and pulled out his cell phone, ready to dial the cab company again.

"John! Hey, wait up!"

He watched with a mixture of surprise and resignation as his former second-in-command's Volvo pulled into a parking space directly in front of them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he yelled.

"It's rather obvious- giving a friend a ride home," she said, getting out and opening the passenger door. "Get in."

"No- I'm taking a cab."

She left the door open and walked towards him. Grabbing the end of his left crutch, she pulled it towards the car, forcing him to follow her, hopping awkwardly to compensate for his lost crutch.

"Damn, Carter," he complained as he was gently- but firmly- put in the car. "If I wanted a ride, I could've gotten one."

To his surprise, she merely gave him a grin. Not even a roll of her eyes. "So… where's your apartment?" she asked as she started the car.

John slammed the door closed. "It's somewhere."

"Gee, real helpful, John."

"Why are you doing this?" He demanded. "I haven't heard a word from you in over a year and suddenly you show up. You didn't even say good-bye…" he trailed off.

Sam swallowed back another wave of guilt. "We used to be friends… in a way," she started, turning the ignition, "and, yes, I haven't been doing such a great job- but I should of realized that it's not that easy to just start a new life- I'm sorry." A sudden smile crossed her face as she pulled onto the road. "Fresh start?"

John looked out the window at the passing scenery. "You don't have to do this- I'm good."

"Ever the O'Neill- do I turn here?"

He sulkily directed her to his apartment. After Sam parked, she stepped out of the car to help him out.

"What are you doing?" John asked as he pushed past her and awkwardly 'crutched' his way up the concrete path. "I've got it, okay? Leave me alone."

Sam massaged her neck. "Your apartment is probably on the second floor- isn't it?" she asked, looking up at the two-story complex.

He shook his head and pointed to an adjutant structure. "That little cabin- I stay there."

She nodded and helped him- after another spat- down the winding pathway. John produced a key as they neared his door. Sam calmly took it away and unlocked the door. John stepped in and instantly wished he had tidied up before leaving for work the following morning.

Sam looked around, taking in the take out bags, the scattered piles of clothing around his empty dresser, the play station and the stack of games and DVD's. "Well, it's good to know some things never change."

John scowled. "I did clean up last week." He gestured to the huge beanbag chairs that scattered the room. "Have a seat."

She waited until he finally sat down himself. "Need anything?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'm here, I'm safe… now will you go?"

Carter studied him for a moment and then reached for her purse, "I got your painkillers from your doctor," she said, tossing him a white plastic bag that held an orange pill bottle. "The directions are in there."

John reluctantly took the offered bag. "Thanks," he managed to get out. After a little while, he managed to get to his feet and hobbled over to his TV. Moments later , he was seemingly immersed in a game that seemed to consist primarily of him shooting aliens.

After a moment, Carter got the message and stood. When she reached the doorway, she stopped. "Look," she mumbled awkwardly, "I know you have your own life now- and you probably don't want us involved in it- but it seems like you could use a friend or something right now. If you do need anything- you know how to reach me." After waiting a moment, she finally left, closing the door quietly behind her.

John dropped his controller as the muffled sounds of a car starting and pulling away was heard. "It's good to see you too, Carter." he whispered.

Well, what did you think?

I hope you liked it… please review!