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He hated these things.
The chatter, the laughter, the noise, the fancy attire. The pretentiousness of showing up just to be seen. It was ludicrous. And he was hosting the damn circus!
Six years after un-retiring, here he was, trapped in his own damn house, listening to some guy with too many PhDs talk about wood.
Wood. Wood . For the love of any God listening, Jack cast an inconspicuous glance at his watch. Nineteen minutes. He’d endured nineteen minutes of this guy—Dr. Fruity? Frumpy?—rambling on about wood. Sustainability. Grain patterns. Mahogany versus maple.
For the love of Pete, Hammond couldn’t pay him enough for this.
For the umpteenth time, he scanned the crowd—his eyes traveled, looking for a certain blonde haired Major. A Major who he hasn’t seen in twenty-four minutes.
He could easily spot Daniel talking to some ladies. Lucky man. He was all smiles and easy conversation. Too chattery most of the time, but in a useful kind of way sorta.
A glance towards the front of the room located Teal’c—stoic and concentrated on stacking cups. Show off.
Still, there was no Carter.
Where the hell is she?
“Did you hear my question, Colonel O’Neill?”
H u h ?
Jack forced himself to refocus on Doc Fruitcake.
“I think I lost you, Colonel.” The little man looked up at him, all smiley and cheerful. “
“Yes, I apologize Dr. Fruity—”
“Frunty.”
“—My mind is somewhere else right now.” Jack smiled, a little proud of how polite he was being. “Now, if you excuse me,” he said, stepping away. “I need to find a member of my team. Daniel’s a real wood enthusiast. Loves the stuff. You two should chat.”
“Of course! My apologies. Please do not let me keep you any longer.” Dr. Funky said, still beaming up at him.
“You’re not.” Jack stepped around the tiny man, moving past him into the heart of the crowd. Weaving through the people, he continued searching.
Still no blonde.
“Ball drops in 5 minutes!” Someone shouted.
Still no Carter.
“Make a hole!” Jack pushed past as many drunk airmen as possible. He stopped just outside the window. A hint of gold drew his attention.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jack opened the door and stepped through it, closing it silently behind him. “Carter?”
“Sir?” Pivoting on the bench, her eyes flew wide. “What are you doing here?”
“Less than five minutes till we have the same lives and the same problems.” He rocked back on his heels as he looked at her.
“Ah. I… I really don’t want to be in there,” she admitted.
“It’s pretty busy.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Daniel’s chatting up the ladies.”
“Fun.”
“Teal’c is being his usual self.”
“Naturally.”
Jack took a few steps toward her, sitting down on the bench. “And you,” he said, looking up at the sky. “Don’t want to be in there.”
Carter didn’t answer. She clasped her hands together, looking down at her lap. She looked uncertain—and stunning. That black dress with the neckline that showed a lot and the slit that—
Jack snapped his gaze back to the stars. Dangerous territory.
“You don’t have to stay, Sir.” She interrupted his thought.
“S’okay. Don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be.”
Out of his periphery, he could see Carter study his face for a moment, before turning back to the stars.
“Me neither.”
“A lot has happened this year,” Jack says pointedly.
“Two minutes!” The voice from inside helpfully provides.
Carter blows a low whistle. “Armbands.”
“Za’tarcs.” Jack adds.
“Memory stamps.”
“Flying off into deep space because some geeks didn’t do their jobs.” He looks over at her. “Not you. You did your job, Carter. More than that.”
She looks down again. “I should have—”
“Ah!” He interrupts. “You did the best you could, Carter. Your job is on SG-1. Not overlooking every project that is related to the Stargate Program.” He raises an eyebrow until she looks at him and nods. Satisfied, Jack continues to dig deep into his memory.
“The weird note from the future.”
“Goa’uld sex dungeon.”
Jack looks at her. “The what?”
She bit back a smile at that. “Daniel didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“The light palace, Sir,” Carter shrugs. “The one we all got addicted to...”
“..was a sex— oh. That actually," he nodded slowly. "...makes a lot of sense.”
“Yeah…”
They sit in silence for a moment, letting the sound from the party, the light breeze, and the moonlight fill their senses.
“We’ll be okay, right?” The words were barely spoken. So quiet that Jack didn’t even know if they were real.
After a moment of hesitation, Jack knew the answer. “We will always be okay, Carter.”
Jack tore his eyes from the sky, clashing with hers.
“ Ten! ”
“I trust you, Sir.” She said, a lazy, thoughtful smile on her lips. She sounded so sure. The thing was, he didn’t know if he could trust himself.
“ Nine! ”
“When the war is over, Carter…” Jack started.
“ Eight! ”
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” She interrupts, her gaze steady and fierce.
“ Seven! ”
Jack furrowed his brows. She could be talking about literally anything. “About?”
“ Six! ”
“The Za’tarcs.” Oh. She really thought that he— her commanding officer—would out of the blue say, ‘Hey Carter, I have a secret crush on you because I failed to do my duty.’
“ Five! ”
“Why didn’t you?” He countered.
“ Four! ”
She smiled, ducking her head “Touché.”
“ Three! ”
“Will there really be a chance…” She left off the Sir—hell, she left off the whole end of the sentence. But Jack knew exactly what she meant. Will there really be a chance for us?
“ Two! ”
“Yes.”
“ One! ”
“Good.”
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”
The screams, the hugs, the love—all of it roared from inside, a cacophony of celebration spilling into the night. But Jack didn’t hear it.
For a moment, all he could do was look at Carter, as if the world had paused just for her. Time stretched, the noise dulled, and the cold air seemed to dissolve around them. There she was—steady, luminous, and impossibly close—and Jack was stuck, utterly captivated, caught in the pull of something he couldn’t ignore and didn’t want to.
Sam—not Carter at this moment, but Sam—cupped his cheek.
All it took was a breath—a single beat—and Jack fell—taking her mouth gently and perfectly.
Jack slowly pulled away.
He pulled away before things got out of hand.
He pulled away before she pulled him in.
“Happy New Year, Carter.”
“You— You too, Sir.” She let out a happy puff of air.
“My butt’s freezing and we should probably get back inside, hm?”
Neither of them made an effort to move.
“We’ll end this war, Sir. I promise.” She touches his forearm.
“I know you will.”