Just like she'd been the first one there that morning, she was the last one to leave.
After General Hammond's news, none of us were able to keep up the pretense any longer, and the whole gathering got so painfully quiet I was damn near the first one to walk out the door. But since it was my house, I really couldn't.
Maybe I should have.
I already have a reputation for bluntness and rudeness, so what's one more faux pas?
I had a pretty good excuse, too.
But at any rate, I didn't.
The General left, and then the odd couple, otherwise known as Daniel and Teal’c, headed out, and finally, Carter got up to leave, too.
I escorted her to the door, standing in the doorway as she stepped out onto the porch. I was starting to shut the door when she stopped.
"Sir? I'd, ah…"
Oh, good god, not again.
I really didn't want to answer *that* question, but it looked like I was going to have to anyway.
Crap.
I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to hurt her, but I probably should have told her the truth a very long time ago.
I sighed. "The answer is yes."
Her face changed, a dazzling smile appearing, the kind I'd seen on her face when she'd just found some amazing alien doohickey thingy.
Had I misjudged the question? From her reaction, quite probably I had.
Most definitely I had.
Crap.
Double crap.
Triple crap.
I rushed to clarify, the words tumbling out hurriedly.
"Yes. To your question earlier. The one about," I waved a hand at the wall behind me, "that picture."
"Sir?" Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
Okay, so I wasn't making myself clear, but then, God only knew what was going on inside my skull, mucking up my thought processes which weren't always sane and logical to begin with. I sighed, and started over. "Carter, about your question earlier, if I ever talk to Sara, the answer is yes." I plunged on, stating the rest in delicate terms. "And we do more than talk."
Her face fell, the smile disappearing, her shoulders drooping, and I knew I'd hurt her and felt like a heel for not telling her a long time ago.
But then, what had she expected? While Carter is a damn fine looking woman, she's a woman who serves in the US Air Force under my command and is therefore untouchable. What, she thought that I would let her throw her career away for a fling? That I was going to throw *my* career away for a little roll in the sheets? Not that she wouldn't be an interesting... but I'm no randy teenager.
Then again, I'm no monk, either. A man has… needs, you know?
And I'd never gotten over Sara. Maybe I would have, if we hadn't seen each other after the divorce, but we had, after that blue crystal alien made that copy of Charlie, and I'd had to go to her and try to explain. And then she'd started to cry, and I found myself reaching out to put my arms around her, and then, damn, somehow we'd ended up kissing and then doing, well, doing what adults who love each other do.
On a fairly regular basis.
Sometimes her place, sometimes mine.
For, oh, what, six years now?
In fact, she'd been the one who'd been at my house, drinking wine to my beer, eating take out with me, playing chess, on the night before Loki came calling, and my team had come snooping through my house looking for a reason why I'd shed 20, okay, 30, yes, right, 30 plus, years.
That picture on my nightstand should have been a clue for Carter, a big, huge honkin' clue, right there in the open beside my bed, where it was the last thing I saw every night and the first thing I saw every morning.
I thought Carter, smart as she was, would figure it out then, but she hadn't.
Maybe now, she'd figure it out.
Get over me.
Get on with her life.
Let me get on with mine.
After all, even if I was interested in her, I knew what had happened to her boyfriends, every last friggin' one of them.
Including the other O'Neill's in those two other alternate universes we'd visited.
Dead.
Every last one of them.
Including me. Twice.
I may not be the brightest bulb in the lamp, but I'm no fool, and it was a long time ago when I was looking for a way to die.
Why do you think no one from the SGC would date her? Other than Felger, who isn't so bright.
We all know about it.
Joke about it.
The Carter curse.
Better someone else than me.
And for me, there's always been someone else.
Author's Note: There's a reason a man keeps his ex-wife's picture in his bedroom, and on his living room wall. For all of you out there who want the ship to sink…<G>
© July 2004 I don't own Stargate; if I did, this would be canon.