Slip Of The Tongue by Bee

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Story Notes: Seasoned Professionals 02: Bee - beeslayer@cableinet.co.uk

SEASON/SEQUEL INFO: set maybe about a month after D&C. Sequel to Melted.

SPOILERS: Divide & Conquer, Sha're stuff,

ARCHIVE: SJA, Heliopolis & anyone else who wants it...but only if it's with the first part. :)

NOTES: I have *no* idea. I was watching ...something...*can't remember* and it just came to me. Sorry.

Kudos to Kaz for beta-ing the night before she went on her hols :) love ya

Oh crap.

Y'know, I've been an ass over the years, but this is...well, it's that proverbial straw again.

It wouldn't be so bad, but Danny Boy isn't the only one who's, um, a tiny bit mad.

Yeah, so he's more than a *tiny* bit mad. He actually threw something at me. Okay, so it was only his hat, but it's the thought that counts.

Anyway, he isn't the only member of SG-1 who felt like throwing things. Carter tossed her zat gun in my direction - I never told her, but luckily she has a pretty bad aim - and Teal'c threw me an evil glare before they all stormed out of the gateroom, leaving Hammond to tut disapprovingly. My, aren't we a seasoned bunch of professionals.

So fabulous. Everyone hates me.

I can practically hear Carter telling me to quit being so melodramatic. And then, of course, my imaginary Sam hurls a chair.

I should *really* sort this out.

Space Monkey's hurt, I know that, but what I don't completely understand is Sam's behaviour. I mean, for crying out loud, I'm hardly Mr. Sensitive. Never have been. She knows that, always has. So making the big show out of being disappointed in me isn't really fair...right?

Ah, who am I kidding. Ever since the thing with Naima and the incident on her doorstep, things have been a little...strained between us. Stir in a couple of Zaytarcs, and there you have our current situation.

Looks like I'll have to apologise. Yet again. Why is it that I'm always doing that?

I fidget a bit - the hard bench of the locker room isn't the world's most comfortable thing, but I daren’t go outside. I know that as soon as Daniel or Sam spot me, I'll get a lecture. And I'm *really* not in the mood right now.

So I made a comment about Sha're. I *know* it was a bad idea...I knew it was wrong even as the words left my mouth. But I've always been a 'speak first, think later and pull foot out of mouth' kinda guy.

He would have punched me - he had that 'look' - but the Goa'uld chose that second to start firing, forcing us to get the freaking gate open and leave. I have never loved those guys more.

"Urgh. How the hell do I manage to get myself into these messes..."

"Your guess is as good as mine, sir."

Damnit. Why do I never hear the doors open around here? Aren't they supposed to squeak or something?

"Carter, if you're here to tell me that I'm going to hell, you needn't bother. I think it was pretty much confirmed during my black ops days, don't you?"

She sighs in frustration. "I knew this was a waste of time. Look, Colonel. We both know you didn't mean what you said. And so does Daniel. But he still deserves an apology." She looks down at me, and I swear she's holding back a grin, "We also both know that you aren't as bitter and twisted as you pretend to be...sir."

I groan. "Carter...my head hurts. I'm not in the mood for subtlety, ok? So if you have something to say..."

She shifts her weight to the other foot, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "For starters...I'm sorry for giving in to my violent tendencies back then, but I was more than a little angry."

"Yup, I think we've established that."

Ignoring me completely, she continues. "When you said that to him...it was almost as if you'd forgotten...forgotten just how much Daniel did love Sha're. I know you weren't trying to be malicious, but...god, I don't even know what my point is."

That makes two of us.

"He loved her, Jack. And he couldn't be with her. And when you poked fun of that...I just don't think you know what that was like for him."

Excuse me? I don't know what it was like? Last time I looked, we were...Ah. Now I see her point. Insecure-Sam doesn't make an appearance very often, but when she does, she gives me that look. And I hate when she looks at me like that. It takes every ounce of willpower not to get up and...and make exactly the same mistake I made on her doorstep.

"So this is about us, then."

She shakes her head. "No. No, it's not. It's about Daniel and it's...it's about me being irrational, I guess. And the fact that we can't even be *having* this conversation."

She's right. And as much as I would like to assure her that, yes, I *do* know how it feels to not be with the person you love...I can't. *We* can't, and we won't.

"We never...talked about what happened last month, did we?"

"That's because nothing happened, Sir. At least not officially." She looks down, and when she looks back up, she's Major Carter again, the professional soldier, who would never do anything to endanger her career. "This officially became the women's locker room 5 minutes ago, Sir. Go talk to Daniel."

Yeah, I can take the hint.

I stand up slowly, knowing that I need to say *something.* Not matter how much of a bad idea it is. "Sam, I..."

She smiles at me then, Sam Carter - the human being, the woman beneath all that bravado - back again. "I know." The look in her eyes is breathtaking, "Me too."

I leave the room, not daring to look back, because, well, we both know what would probably happen if I did. When the hell did this all get so difficult? Oh yeah. The arm-wrestling comment.

So. Go find Daniel, she says. Well, she spends most of her time obeying orders from me, so I guess it's only fair that I listen to her this once. I'm not planning on making a habit of it though, I *do* have a delicate male ego to protect.

I snort, making my way to the infirmary. It's undoubtedly where he'll be, he spends the majority of his time there lusting after Doc Fraiser. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they had a thing going...I mentioned it to Carter once, and she laughed at me, which I assumed meant I was hallucinating, but now I'm not so sure.

Especially as I'm staring through the open door of the - amazingly empty for once - infirmary and watching the two of them sitting on one of the beds deep in conversation.

Something tells me that I could ride around the room on a unicycle and they wouldn't notice me.

Daniel said that about Sam and I once...as I remember, I gave something resembling a nervous giggle and made an excuse to leave.

I *will* confront him about this, but some other time. I'll go mope in my quarters before the briefing in 20 minutes.

***

Okay, so here we go. Time for the mission briefing. And this door has never looked better...I'd much rather be out here looking at it than in there trying not to look at Sam.

For crying out loud. I'm a grown man. And besides, I'll have to face em eventually...no time like the present, right?

I stride into the room, trying to look like I'm *supposed* to look at these things - over-confident Colonel O'Neill. Thankfully, Hammond isn't here yet. Daniel, Sam and Teal'c, however, are.

"Ah."

That's as far as I get.

"I know, Jack. Don't worry about it."

I blink in surprise. He actually sounds sincere, too. I look to Sam, who shrugs and grins at me, all earlier awkwardness apparently forgotten.

Even Teal'c nods his head at me, which I take to mean I'm forgiven.

They're *all* grinning at me now - no doubt due to the fact that I'm standing here agape - so I just shake my head and sit down, muttering to Daniel as I pass.

"And we'll discuss Janet later, Danny Boy."

I think we'll be fine.

* * *

End Notes: Beeslayer@cableinet.co.uk Feedback rocks my world. http://beeslayer.cjb.net

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