Chapter Text
“Ya got a minute Doc?” Janet looks up from her computer at the question—punctuated by a harried Colonel O’Neill’s knuckles on her office doorframe.
“Of course, sir,” she smiles, watching as he glances back into the hallway and pulls the door until it clicks shut. She waves him to the spare chair against the wall and he drags it, squealing and chafing, to sit across from her. “What's this? Typically I’d have to reel you in by your toenails to get you in my office for a one-on-one consultation.”
He huffs, and she’s pleased to see at least a smidge of the tension loosen with it. “Yeah, well. I’m not here to talk about me.”
“Oh?” Janet’s voice remains calm and friendly, but a drop of anxious adrenaline settles uncomfortably in her stomach. “Nathan?”
“Yes. No.” He shakes his head, digging the thumb and forefinger of his left hand into his temples none too gently. “Well.”
“Jack.” She reaches across her desk and catches his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. “What’s wrong?”
He drags his eyes up to meet hers with visible effort and blurts,“Cassie knows.“
Janet’s hand drops and she thunks against the back of her chair with a whoomf and a creak. “Cassie knows?”
He grimaces, nodding.
“Well, how did she find out?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out like an accusation but she’s too flustered to do anything about it.
Jack’s hands go up. “Hey! I didn’t tell her anything.”
“Did she overhear something?” She’s leaning forward again.
“No, she just...figured it out.”
“She just figured it out. She just figured out that the estranged nephew you took in is actually your teenage clone created by a rogue Asguard from outer space?”
Jack opens his mouth to speak, gesturing vainly for a moment before his mouth snaps shut and he tries again. “Yes?”
Janet plunks her face in her hands. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yeah, well. That kid of yours is plugged into another plane, I’m telling you.”
“She never said anything to me,” Janet moans, muffled.
“She only figured it out yesterday.”
Janet lifts her head, shakes it, and reaches for her coffee. “Does this change anything with Nate?”
Jack shrugs, studying something on the floor. “I don’t think so. She said she’d keep quiet and I’ve never known her to break her word.”
Janet nods, taking a deep breath. That’s certainly true. Maybe it’s not so bad. And really, the longer she thinks about it, the less surprising it is. Oh, Cassandra.
She shakes her head, huffs. “That's our girl,” she says, tone teetering somewhere between pride and chagrin.
“She's special,” Jack says, meaning it. The fond glint in his eyes softens the stress about his lips and in Janet's stomach.
“Maybe too special,” Janet says, not meaning it. Her own lips twist. “How on Earth do we end up in these little puzzles, Colonel?”
Jack sprawls back in the chair, eliciting another chorus of rusty protest as he claps his hands over his face. Muffled, “Nothing little about ‘em, Doc.”