Chapter Text
Standing at the edge of the room, Jack scans the crowd.
There are far more people here than he expected.
Of course, what would he know? Events like this have never exactly been his territory, science conferences, formal receptions, rooms full of people who probably consider quantum mechanics acceptable dinner conversation.
Not his world. Never has been.
And yet, here he is.
Black suit, white shirt, no cap to hide under.
At this point, he even misses his dress blues, which is saying something.
He adjusts his cuffs in the vague hope they might somehow become more comfortable. They don't.
The room is filled with people he would normally classify as geeks.
A lot of them.
But for once… he doesn't mind. Because this isn't just another event.
This one matters.
Halfway through another silent complaint about his suit, he spots her across the room.
For a moment, the rest disappears.
Carter isn't in uniform.
That alone is enough to throw him.
Her dress is blue, deep and understated until she moves and the light catches across the fabric in subtle glints.
Not flashy or attention seeking.
Just enough to be noticed by anyone paying attention. And he is definitely paying attention.
It suits her in the same impossible way everything somehow does: elegant, practical, unmistakably Carter.
Just… not the Carter he's used to seeing.
He clears his throat, straightens slightly and forces his expression back into something neutral.
“Don't get used to this,” he mutters to himself. Then, with as much confidence as he can manufacture, he heads in her direction.
“Carter,” he says as he reaches her, offering the drink he picked up from the bar. “Remind me again why saving the world apparently involves formal wear?”
She glances at him, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“It's called international relations, Sir.”
He grimaces.
“I thought that involved guns.”
"Not tonight, sir."
"Right.” He tugs at his cuffs again, for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Still feels like a punishment.”
She gives him a sideways look.
“You volunteered, sir”.
He snorts softly.
“Yeah… I was misled. General Hammond said this would be quick.”
Some time later, and after more small conversation than any one man should be expected to survive, Jack finds himself back at the edge of the room.
Same spot.
Same crowd.
Still too many people.
He takes a slow sip of his drink and scans the room, more out of habit than interest.
Voices blur into a single indistinguishable hum.
Something about research funding.
Something about theoretical models.
Something about something.
He tunes out most of it. This really isn't his world.
Just as he begins to consider a tactical retreat, preferably toward the nearest exit, the lights dim slightly.
The shift in the room is immediate. Conversations fade, heads turn.
Jack straightens and looks toward the stage.
A man steps to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention.”
Jack exhales softly.
“Finally.”
The room settles.
“Tonight, we are honored to recognize an exceptional contribution to the field of theoretical astrophysics…”
He is only half listening, until “...Dr. Samantha Carter.”
That gets his full attention. The rest of the room falls away. His focus narrows completely.
“- for her groundbreaking work on deep space phenomena and its potential applications…”
Jack tilts his head.
“Potential applications,” he mutters under his breath “Yeah… that's one way to put it.”
Then he sees her step onto the stage.
For the briefest moment, she looks almost unsure, but then she straightens. Air Force officer. Scientist. Carter.
The applause fills the room, but he doesn't clap right away.
He just watches.
A quiet smile finding its way there before he can stop it.
She reaches the microphone and takes a breath. “Thank you.”
Her gaze moves over the crowd, calm and composed.
“This work wasn't done alone.” she continues with a small pause. “There are people I work with every day, who push boundaries in ways that can't always be shared publicly.”
A few knowing smiles move through the room.
Jack folds his arms, still watching.
"But I can say this, none of it would have been possible without the support of an extraordinary team.”
Her voice softens slightly.
“And the people who make sure we can keep doing that work… even when it's not easy.”
Then she glances toward him. Quickly, he almost missed it.
But it was just long enough.
“And to my commanding officer…”
He blinks.
“...thank you for trusting me to do my job.”
He shifts his weight. Uncomfortable. Proud. Trying very hard not to show either.
The applause rises again as she steps back from the microphone.
For a moment she remains composed, then leaves the stage.
Jack doesn't move.
Arms crossed. Expression neutral.
But his eyes follow her the entire way.
People reach her immediately - handshakes, congratulations, questions.
She handles all of it with the same calm confidence she brings to everything else.
Of course she does.
He lets out a quiet breath.
“Yeah…” a small pause. “... that's Carter.”
He finally pushes himself off the wall and heads towards her.
She sees him coming and gives him a brief, real smile.
He glimpses at the award in her hands.
“They give those out often?”
“Not really,” she replies, still smiling.
A little pause before he answers softly
“Good.”
She watches him for a second and understands exactly what he means. The smile she gives him this time is warmer. Then someone else steps in with more congratulations and they part ways again.
Later, the music changes. Softer now. Slower.
At some point the room has transformed without him noticing. Conversations have given way to quiet laughter, couples drifting toward the dance floor.
Jack watches from a distance.
He should probably stay where he is.
That seems like the smart option.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem that smart and moves away.
He finds her near the buffet, trapped in conversation with someone who clearly has no intention of stopping anytime soon.
Carter handles it with practiced grace, polite, attentive, just the right amount of interest to be convincing.
Then she catches sight of him and, with a small, almost apologetic smile, excuses herself.
"Sir?”
"Carter.”
A brief pause.
He glances toward the dance floor, then back at her.
“You dance?”
She studies him for half a second, as though deciding whether he can possibly be serious.
"Sometimes.”
He nods at her.
“Good.”
She raises an eyebrow.
"Good?”
"Because if I go out there alone,” he adds, “I'm definitely going to look like an idiot and embarrass the USAF.”
That earns him another smile.
“I think they'll survive Sir.”
"Let's not test it,” and he offers his hand.
She looks at it for a second. then takes it.
The moment they step onto the dance floor, Jack becomes aware of two things.
One - he is dancing.
Two - he is dancing with Carter.
He places a careful hand at her waist, keeping a respectable distance.
Professional, as always.
She adjusts easily, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other in his.
Natural, like she’s done this a thousand times.
He clears his throat.
“So… nice speech.”
She glances up at him.
"Thank you, sir.”
“You kept the whole ‘interplanetary travel’ part subtle.”
A small smile.
“I try.”
They move together in a quiet rhythm for a moment.
No rush. No need to fill the silence.
Then -
“You deserve it,” he says.
No joke this time. No deflection, just the truth.
Something in her expression shifts.
“Thank you.” she says softly..
Another step. Another turn.
He briefly looks down at the floor, then back at her.
“You know, they didn't even mention the saving-the-planet part.”
“That wasn't really the point here, sir.”
“Seems like a pretty big detail to leave out.”
She smiles faintly.
“Some things are.”
That lingers between them.
The music slows further.
Or maybe it just feels that way.
Suddenly he becomes uncomfortably aware of how close they are.
Of the warmth of her hand on his shoulder.
Of the fact that this stopped about avoiding embarrassment several minutes ago.
He shifts slightly, but too late.
“You seem distracted, sir?“
He lets out a quiet sigh.
“I'm thinking.”
“That sounds dangerous.” she jokes.
“Yeah.” A pause. “This is probably a bad idea.”
Her eyes hold his. “Why?”
He hesitates.
“Because I'm enjoying this.”
Silence follows.
She doesn't step away. Doesn’t laugh it off. Doesn’t rescue him from what he just admitted.
But something changes, very subtle.
Too soon the music ends, but neither of them moves immediately.
Then she steps back, just a step.
“Thank you for the dance, sir.”
He nods. “Anytime Carter.”
A beat.
“This stays off the record, right?”
That earns him one last smile.
“Of course.”
She turns and disappears back into the crowd.
He stays where he is for a moment longer, watching.
Then exhales quietly, “Yeah…" he adjusts his cuffs again, entirely pointless.
“... that was a bad idea.”
He doesn't sound convinced.