"We were the greatest."
Impatiently, he played with his watch, flipping open the cover over the dial, then flipping it shut, over and over again.
"Sara, are you ready?"
"Just a minute!" she called down the stairs to him.
"You said that ten minutes ago," he protested.
"If you'd quit asking me, I'd be done by now!"
"We're going to be late," he warned. "It doesn't look good for a general to be late."
"You'll just have to drive faster."
"It would look even worse for a general to get arrested," he countered.
"They don't arrest people for driving fast." Besides it wouldn't be the first time, she knew. Jack liked fast.
"Sara…"
"Okay, I'm ready," she hurried down the stairs. "Is this okay? Appropriate for the occasion?"
She had put her long hair up, applied just the right amount of makeup so that she looked like she wasn't wearing any, and her perfume... oiy. She was wearing the classic little black dress, form fitting on her tall slender body. The ruffled hem ended just above her knee, showing off her long, trim legs, and on her feet she wore delicate, black strapless high heels.
Jack swallowed. "No," he croaked.
Her face fell. "No? But..."
"I didn't come prepared for combat," he explained.
"Combat? Jack..." she looked baffled.
"All those junior officers, they'll be hovering around you like..." he waved a hand in the air.
"Like flyboys?"
"Yup. Flyboys. And you know flyboys."
"Oh yes I do," she smiled.
/-----------\
The convention center grounds were bustling with activity, the lobby well lit and buzzing with quiet conversation.
"Is that who I think it is?" Sara asked as they walked up to the door where a familiar-looking figure was greeting the arrivals.
"The Secretary of Defense? Yes, it is."
When they reached the line of dignitaries, the secretary clasped Jack's hand.. "General O'Neill, it's good to see you. And this lovely lady is?"
Crap. He hadn't thought about this until just now, about how he was going to to introduce her.
She saved him, answering for him. "Sara O'Neill," she held out her hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir."
"General, you've been holding out on us. I didn't realize you were married..."
"I'm not, Sir. We're not... anymore."
"Oh, my apologies," the secretary looked momentarily embarrassed, "I shouldn't have assumed."
Jack shrugged.
"Apology accepted, Sir," Sara added gracefully.
They stepped away, moving on down the receiving line. "Sorry," he mumbled to her.
she nodded, and kept smiling as they continued to shake hands and murmur the perfunctory introductions demanded by the occasion.
The final figure in line, a short, bald and portly two star general, smiled warmly as they approached. "Jack."
"General Hammond, it's good to see you. Sara, this is Major General George Hammond, my former CO." Jack smiled a genuine smile in answer. "You're looking good, Sir. Apparently Washington agrees with you."
"I wouldn't say that much. And this is?" the Texan asked, turning to the blonde accompanying O'Neill.
"Sara," she held out her hand, something about him drawing an answering smile.
"Charmed, Ma'am, to meet you at last." The General turned to Jack.
Jack swallowed. "Friends, Sir."
"Good. That's good. I hope you'll enjoy the evening. Jack, let's talk later, shall we?"
"Yes, Sir."
And then the line was pressing them from behind, and they moved on, pausing at the doorway to the dining room.
"Sara, I," he couldn't look at her. "I didn't think about..." he waved a hand back toward the receiving line.
"It's okay."
But he knew from her tone that it wasn't.
/-----------\
They ate their dinner in painful silence and listened through the secretary's speech, applauding at the appropriate places. Jack was among the senior officers who presented several honors. The SGC was, of course, never mentioned, nor were the deeds for which the awards were given, just some vague generalities about duty and exemplary service.
When the dinner was over, Sara excused herself, claiming to need some fresh air.
Jack stood quickly, looking after her, regretting asking her to this event. The evening hadn't turned out as he'd expected, not at all, thanks to the uncomfortable beginning, and he didn't know how to fix it.
Just like he never knew how to fix things between them.
"Jack."
He turned to find General Hammond had come up to stand beside him. "General."
"George," Hammond corrected.
"Yes, Sir, George." Jack added uncomfortably. "I just, you know, can't, Sir. Habit."
"I know." Hammond paused, then plunged on. "So, you brought a date tonight."
Jack frowned. "It seemed appropriate. At the time."
"But now it doesn't?" George asked, perceptively.
O'Neill shrugged.
"Not going well?"
Jack nodded.
"But it's important to you that it does."
Another reluctant nod.
"And now you don't know what to say to her."
"Never do," he admitted.
"None of us ever do, Jack," Hammond stated. "I was married for nearly 30 years, and I always counted on *her* to understand me. Usually, she did. And even when she didn't, she tried."
"I'm sorry I never got to meet her."
It was George's turn to nod. "You should go talk to her."
The words were uttered softly. "You know me, Sir, talk just isn't my thing..."
"How about I go break the ice?" Hammond thought his former second in command looked like a drowning man who'd just been thrown a life-preserver.
"Thank you, Sir."
/-----------\
George Hammond found O'Neill's date outside the front door, on the hotel's verandah, sitting alone. "Mrs. O'Neill?"
She turned to face him. "General Hammond?"
"Call me George, please."
"If you'll call me Sara."
"Of course." He pointed at one of the empty deck chairs. "May I join you?"
"Certainly."
Hammond sat down, and when she didn't speak, after a few minutes he commented, "It's a lovely night."
"Yes, it is."
"I didn't expect to see you here with Jack."
"I'm not so sure I should have come." She waved her hand in a gesture that reminded him of Jack. "It's been a little awkward."
"The military can be very excluding. We don't take well to outsiders."
"That's not it."
"Ah," Hammond thought a moment. "You've been away from this a long time."
"Yes. And away from *him* a long time."
"Difficult adjustment?"
She nodded.
"He's not an easy man."
She smiled thinly. "No, he's not. He never was."
"I would imagine not. But he's someone who's worth the hard work."
"You know him well. I can see that."
Hammond chuckled. "I was his boss for seven years, but that doesn't mean I've got him figured out."
There was sadness in her voice, "I don't think there's anyone capable of figuring him out, himself included."
"That's not all bad. His... originality... is one of the things that makes him so very good at what he does."
"Ah yes, he's obviously very good at deep space radar telemetry," she said sarcastically.
"It's an important job," the general stated.
"I'm sure it is," she said knowingly.
"He's done some fine work for the Air Force."
"That's how he got to be a general, I presume."
"Yes. Difficult work, too. Very difficult. At times," Hammond paused and looked at the woman, "more difficult than most people could imagine."
She nodded and shivered.
"He's worked very hard. Endured some... arduous things. Things that would have destroyed a less determined man."
Her voice was very soft. "He always loved the Air Force. I used to wonder if he loved it more than me."
"I doubt that."
She shrugged. "Whatever he felt for me, it wasn't enough, to get us past... what happened."
"It was all he could give you."
Sara turned then to look at him. "I don't know if it's enough, to take the chance again."
"Things have come that far?"
She looked down at her hands, twisting on her lap. "I'm not sure. We see each other, spend time together, but whether we'll take the next step... I don't know. I don't know if he wants it, and I don't know if I want it. If I can risk it. If we'll ever get beyond the past."
"Not every woman is cut out to be a military wife. It's not an easy life." George added. "A career in the military isn't just a job. My late wife and I were married for nearly 30 years, and most of that time we spent apart. She followed me to posts all over the world when she could, raised our daughters pretty much on her own. It was a difficult life for her, and until she was gone, I never really appreciated how much I asked of her, and how little I gave her in return."
"I'm sure you gave her more than you know, Sir," she commented.
"Perhaps." Hammond paused. "I know a little bit about Jack's history, and it took someone very strong, and very confident, to be with him during those years."
"There were good times, too."
"No doubt. He's an extraordinary man, Jack O'Neill. He's decent and honorable, with too much conscience for the job he does."
She could only nod.
"I doubt Jack has ever stopped to consider how much he asked of you. Or acknowledged how much he needed you. He doesn't talk about such things easily. Ever." Hammond paused. "Jack's a good man, though I know very well he's far from perfect. You just have to decide whether or not you can deal with those imperfections." George stood. "I won't presume to tell you what to do, Sara, but I like Jack, not just as an officer, but as a friend. His new job isn't easy, and he needs the support of his staff, and his friends, and you. I'll leave you with one piece of advice. Life is short. I planned to spend my retirement years with my wife, making up for all the time we missed. But she died before I retired, and those years, all that time, they're gone forever."
She was quiet as he turned to leave. "General?"
He paused at the doorway. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
He smiled, and though she had only just met him, she was quite sure that this was a man she would like very, very much.
"You're welcome," he nodded and left.
She sat alone, staring out at the lights of the city.
His approach was so quiet she didn't realize Jack was there until he spoke.
"Sara?"
She turned toward him.
"Would you like to, um, dance?"
"Sure."
He held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to lead her on to the dance floor. The band was playing a slow number, something from the 60s, though she couldn't recall the name.
Carefully, Jack folded his arms around her, and she stepped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his slim waist. His hands slid down until they were resting in the middle of her back, cradling her against him. With a sigh, she leaned in and rested her head on his chest as they swayed to the music, feet shuffling.
When the music ended, he reached down and kissed her cheek. "Thank you," he whispered.
She smiled up at him, and let him take her hand again, leading her off the dance floor and over toward a corner. The chairs were all full, but they stood side by side for a moment. "Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Yes."
"The usual."
"Fine." She couldn't even remember what used to be her usual, since she rarely went out, and even more rarely drank.
"Be right back," he promised.
She watched him make his way across the room, slipping between tables toward the bar, tall, lean, and broad shouldered. She didn't fail to notice how more than one women's head turned when he went by.
Sara sighed, and wished she knew what to do.
/-----------\
Jack made his way to the bar, ordered a beer for himself and a white wine for her, and carried them back across the room.
By the time he arrived there, a young officer was approaching his wife, ex-wife, he reminded himself.
"Ma'am..." said the young man. "Would you be interested in a dance?"
Before Sara could answer, Jack was suddenly there, glowering at the young officer. "She's with me."
The young captain quickly backed away. "Sorry, Sir, no offense meant Sir, didn't mean to..."
Jack leaned down, and whispered, loud enough for Sara to hear. "It's okay, son, I think she's pretty hot myself..."
The young man turned red-faced and fled.
Sara slapped the general on the arm. "Jack, what was that?"
"Warrior defending his territory," he stated, handing her the glass of wine, sipping from his beer.
"Cave man, you mean. And who said I was your territory?"
He looked away, then back at her. "Sorry. Old habits."
Her voice softened. "You don't have to apologize. Not for that, or for bringing me here tonight."
"It wasn't that bad then?"
"Well the dinner was pretty awful," she conceded.
"Yeah, you'd think a the only superpower on the planet could find a decent chef."
She smiled. "I enjoyed meeting General Hammond. He's a very sweet man."
Jack nearly choked on his beer. "Sweet? He's the toughest SOB I've ever worked for."
"He hides it well."
"He *is* a good man."
"Funny, that's what he said about you."
"Really?" Jack tried not to look too hopeful. "And you said..."
"That you're difficult."
"True."
"And you're contrary."
"True."
"And you're stubborn."
"True."
"And you broke my heart."
Jack's answer took a longer time, and it was uttered very softly. "True."
"He said I should give you another chance." She turned to look up at him. "Do you want another chance, Jack? Is that where this is going?"
He deflected, answering her question with one of his own. "Do you want it to?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I don't," she reached out and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. Taking a deep breath, she told him, "Part of me misses what we had so much that, that..." She couldn't think of a word that fit, and let the sentence end there. "And part of me can't forget what happened, and how much it hurt, and how angry I was at you, how empty you left me when you turned away."
"I can't change the past." His words were so low she could barely hear them against the background noise.
"No, you can't." She smiled sadly, thinking how desperately they both longed to change that one fateful day. "Just like I can't change the way I felt then, all the hurt that piled up, and how hard I had to work to wade through the mess."
"I know."
"I want to believe there's still something here, for us, but..." she stopped again, to look at him once more. "I need it to be right, Jack. I need to know I can trust you. I can't let you break my heart again, I can't go through that.. I need to know that you need me, and that I need you, and that there's enough left of what we had to build something on... if that's what you want."
He nodded.
"Then say it, Jack. Are you just lonely for *someone*, or do you want *me*?"
"It's always been you."
"Before or after the Air Force?"
He shrugged, unable to answer that question. After a long moment of silence, he asked. "So where do we go from here?"
She sighed. "I don't know. I just know we need to go slow."
"I can do slow," he offered.
"And patient?"
"I can do..." he saw the disbelieving look on her face and quickly amended, "I can try patient." He still wasn't good at patient, he never would be, but some things in life were worth the effort.
And she was one.
Author's Pledge: All Badgergater fics are clearly and honestly labeled; read or not at your pleasure, but be assured this and all my other fics are accurately labeled as to content and category; I do not need to suck in the unwary reader by trying to disguise the content, rating or category of this or any other fic.
Author's Note: Thanks to Margo, Sis, and to all those who feedback; for all those who believe greatness can be rekindled.
© January 2005 Don't own em', recognize the power and authority of those who do, yada yada yada.. Not to be posted without the author's permission.