The Girl Next Door by ShipperWriter

Summary: When Sam finds out about Jack and Kerry's relationship, how does she feel? Really feel?

Notes: This fanfic was inspired by the song "Girl Next Door" by Saving Jane.

Samantha Carter pulled her keys back out of her pocket and unlocked her car, glancing back at Jack O'Neill's house one last time. She had it all planned out in her head. Of course, it took her ten minutes to get the nerve to actually get out of the car and go and talk to him. She was going to lay it out. The situation with Pete, the situation with them, and how badly she needed Jack to hear her side. And then he would do what? Get down on his knees, beg her not to marry Pete, to marry him instead? Come on, Sam, you're smarter than that. You have a PhD, for cryin' out loud!

She closed her eyes in silent defeat, again, realizing how so many Jack-isms had entered into her life, her thinking. So, once again, she criticized her attack plan. And groaned.

Sure, that hadn't gone the way that she planned. She saw no other car, figured that he was alone. And then she had to walk out, wearing a very tight and revealing shirt, in Sam's opinion, and calling him "Jack".

She closed her eyes again, remembering her first thought, muttering aloud, "That's supposed to be me."

She got into her car, unaware that Jack O'Neill had dismissed himself from the grill, was standing next to his truck, and he had heard the last thing that she had said.

She was driving on the highway back to Cheyenne Mountain, too worried about her father and her boss to think straight. Her life was drastically spiraling downwards. She needed a distraction. She reached for her cell phone, and then thought, Who am I going to call? Mark? Wouldn't understand. My father? Duh. Daniel? Too many questions. Jack?

She sighed, then dropped her cell phone and turned on her iPod. When it started blaring rock music, she flipped it over. "Oh, Cass," she muttered, seeing her friend's name engraved on the back, a present that the team had gotten her when she graduated high school. She then realized that she'd exchanged iPods with her so Cass could "jazz up" her song selections. She sighed, giving up as a new song started.

"Small town homecoming queen, she's the star in this scene, there's no way to deny she's lovely. Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfumed hearts everywhere, tell myself that inside she's ugly. Maybe I'm just jealous, I can't help but hate her, secretly I wonder if my boyfriend wants to date her."

I wish.

"She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band. She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands. She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the floor. She's Miss America, and I'm just the girl next door."

"Yep, that's me," Sam said aloud. "Just the geeky girl next door."

She entered the complex, descending downwards to meet her father, laying on a bed in the infirmary, and then started crying as he told her, "I'm dying, Sam."

A few weeks later, Jacob Carter was dead, his body laid to rest by the Air Force next to his wife, and his symbiote taken by the Tok'ra to dispose of it in a respectful way. Kerry Johnson had submitted a transfer request, which Jack had been more than happy to approve, despite her statement that she didn't think their break up would ruin their working relationship. Jack was happy to see her proved wrong.

And Samantha Carter had broken off her engagement to Pete Shanahan, who had tucked tail and headed back to Denver. Jack had been so friendly to people after that, some wondered if he was on anti-depressants.

He walked by her lab, hands tucked in pockets, as he heard a song blaring from her computer and - she was singing?

"Oh, I gotta see this," he whispered, stopping outside her lab, looking in.

She was holding some gadget that had a higher purpose, he guessed, and she was singing into it, dancing around her lab like a teenage girl listening to the Beatles.

"She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band. She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands. She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the floor. She's Miss America, and I'm just the girl next door."

"She's been around Cass too much, hmm?" Daniel Jackson wondered as he walked by, eyes peeled on a book.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Well, I've heard her humming this since her dad got sick, and the dancing started after Pete left. This performance thing started after . . . well, since a certain CIA agent left."

"Ahh. That's all, thank you, Jeeves," he replied, shooing Daniel away.

Daniel went away happily, too engrossed in his reading to notice anything else. Jack kept his eyes on Sam.

"Senior class president, she must be heaven sent. She was never the last one standing. A backseat debutant, everything that you want, never too harsh or too demanding. Maybe I'll admit it, I'm a little bitter. Everybody loves her but I just wanna hit her!" Sam exclaimed, slumping into a chair.

The phone rang. She turned off the music and answered. "Carter. Oh, hey Cassie. Yes, about time you noticed! No, actually, I found one song I really like, and I wanted to borrow it? Thanks, you're the best! Yeah, I know. I'm actually really happy now. I thought that you-know-who would have made me happy and made everything complete, but I . . . guess I didn't realize what I already had. No, I'm not going Dr. Phil on you. He seems to be happy, smiling a lot. He's being very protective of me right now, I guess because of my dad. Hey, I'm not the girl next door anymore. Yeah, subtle, huh?"

"Carter, got a minute?"

She turned in her seat, only briefly. "Yes, sir. Cass, I gotta go. I'll call you when I get home, we'll go and catch a movie, okay? Okay, see ya." She hung up. "Yes, sir, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, it's what you can do for you."

"Sir?" she asked quizzically.

"I know you've been through a lot right now, but I was wondering, well, you still haven't been fishing with us yet."

Sam smiled. "When?"

"This weekend? Teal'c's bringing chess, Danny boy is bringing . . . something. And I'll bring the beer."

Still grinning, she replied, "Sounds great."

"All right. That's settled." He started to turn and walk away, but he stopped short. "Hey . . . Sam?"

"Hmm?"

He walked over to her and stood close to her, in front of her chair. When she was staring into his brown eyes with her blue ones, he knelt down, matching eye level, and whispered to her, "You've never been the girl next door for me." He kissed her forehead, trailed down her nose to her lips, and Sam closed her eyes as all the emotions that she had bottled up over the years came out in a soft, tender kiss.

When they pulled back, a bit unwilling, Jack cupped her cheek. "Never forget that."