Colonel Simmons was threatening her with court martial for a whole host of things, not the least of which was insubordination and failure to report a security threat; and Major Samantha Carter knew she deserved all of it. So she just stood there, tight lipped, while the Colonel railed on. She remained at attention, staring straight ahead, not meeting General Hammond’s disappointed eyes, or her CO’s irate ones. For Colonel Jack O’Neill was going to bat for her, loudly. He countered every single one of Simmons’ charges (not always with the greatest success) and repeated several times that she had not been working on her own; she had in fact been working under his authorisation. It was stretching the truth at best; his knowledge of the whole affair came from a hurried conversation about a ‘hypothetical’ situation when he was on his way to the john.
Finally it was over. She had been granted a temporary reprieve and was confined to base, not under full arrest. Yet. General Hammond advised her that it would not look good for her to try and work on any of her projects in the interim; he advised her to go straight to her quarters and wait. Jack offered to walk her there, and she almost wished he hadn’t. Despite his retroactive acknowledgement of what she had been doing, she felt he had let him down. Badly.
“I’m sorry,” he said just after they passed Sargent Siler.
She started. She was supposed to be the one apologising! “No, I’m sorry sir. I should have come forward when Orlin came back.”
“You did,” he reminded her. “Granted it was in a roundabout way, but I knew what you were saying—or not saying—when I thought about it… after I’d emptied my bladder.”
“But I should have come right out and said it.”
“Maybe,” the colonel conceded. “But we didn’t give you much choice, the way we doubted what you were saying and all.”
They had reached the door to her quarters, and he paused, uncertain. “That’s what I wanted to apologise for,” he said finally. “For doubting you. Deep down I knew that something was up, that you weren’t really losing it. I should have fought harder for you.”
“That’s not really your fault, sir,” she responded quietly. “Believe me, I know how it looked. And I still should’ve turned Orlin in, especially after he became corporeal.”
“Yes, you should have. But I know you, Carter, and I know you must’ve had reasons for it. Damn good ones too.”
Sam half smiled. “Well, yeah; but that doesn’t excuse what I did.”
Jack shrugged. “We’re all allowed lapses in judgement once in a while. Admittedly this is a major one, but you’re forgiven. At least on my part.”
Her smile grew. It took a great weight off, knowing that her CO wasn’t too disappointed in her. “Thank you, sir.”
“I must admit I was jealous,” he continued conversationally.
“Sir?” he had half-turned away, ready to leave, when he made that statement; and it was not something she expected to hear. It hurt that she had made him feel that. It was like an extra betrayal; even though nothing had really happened with Orlin, and they (she and Jack) had agreed to leave ‘it’ in the room.
The colonel looked somewhat embarrassed, like he’d been caught thinking aloud—which in all likelihood he had been. “Never mind,” he muttered, fully turning away.
“Sir,” Sam reached out to stop him from leaving, turning him to face her again. She dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “Jack, if there was any way…”
“I know,” he cut her off just as quietly, placing a finger to her lips. “I know, Sam.” With that, he turned and walked away.
She watched him go, knowing there was a lot left unsaid between them. But she also knew that it was neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. She could only hope that it would be addressed some day.
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