Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko own them I don't.
In 'Watergate' Sam describes Jack as 'charming'. Now she has to put up with his ego.
"So…" the voice began.
Still facing the results of her latest tests on the naquadah reactor, Sam closed her eyes and almost sighed. She knew what he was going to say, but still made a paltry attempt to forestall it. Lifting her head she saw him standing in the doorway to her office. "Sir!" She greeted brightly. "How are you?"
Jack O'Neill ignored her question, instead continuing to lean against the doorway. The only movement came as he smirked and lifted his eyebrows. "Charming, huh?"
Damn. Well technically, it was her own fault. "Sir you have to understand...you can come off as being a little rough around the edges."
"I *am* a little rough around the edges."
"I know that. Sometimes it works to your advantage. And sometimes it doesn't. I just thought it might help to...ease the situation a little."
He nodded as if he understood.
Sam hoped like hell that he did.
He spoke. "So charming, huh?"
Closing her eyes, Sam conceded defeat. "Okay, sure. Yes sir. On occasion you can - amazingly enough-"
"Should I take this opportunity to remind you that you're speaking to a superior officer?"
"-be charming," Sam concluded, knowing his last comment was a joke.
"Well thank you. Nice of you to admit it. Of course, it was a little like pulling teeth, but that's not the point. And, as we're exchanging compliments, I'd like to say that you can be quite charming yourself."
"Thank you sir."
"When you put your mind to it."
She glared at him.
He simply smiled, his hands securely resting in his trouser pockets. "Oh stop it Carter - I'm just teasing. You know I think you're charming."
Still unsure it he was teasing or not - he looked honest enough - she eventually accepted the compliment. "Well...thank you. I think." Frankly, this was a little bizarre.
Apparently thinking of something else, O'Neill took a hand out of his pockets, and waved it about as he moved further into the room. "Actually...I also appreciate the fact that you like my sense of humour."
It was hard not to smile. "I do?"
"Oh come on..." He told her. "Daniel just puts up with it, Hammond never looks happy with me, and Teal'c is...Teal'c. He only smiles when he kills someone or when he tells another one of those damn Jaffa jokes. It's great to have someone on the team who actually appreciates my sense of humour." Jack paused. "It's...nice."
Sam blinked. This was not at all where she thought this conversation would go. "I'm glad I could help, sir. It's...reassuring to know that I contribute towards your well-being."
Jack rolled his eyes dramatically. "Carter..."
Smirking, she continued. "And just to clarify the point: I do like your sense of humour." Sam watched as he puffed his chest out. "Even if it is often inappropriate..."
His chest deflated. "Should I remind you of that rank thing again? You're supposed to...you know...suck up to me."
Frowning deliberately, she 'hmmed'. "I don't recall seeing that anywhere in the job description sir."
"Oh it's there," Jack assured her, using his hand to mimic writing on a piece of paper. "Right under general subservience and thinking your Colonel is great."
"Must have missed that."
"Yeah, well," He chuckled. "*I* could have told you *that*."
They nodded at each other in silence for a moment before Jack spoke once again, pointing at her.
Sam tried to look at her hair, realised it was impossible, and frowned. "What about my hair?"
"I like it."
Her frown managed to convey her confusion, and he explained.
"Since we're complimenting each other, I thought it only right to point out that I like your hair."
Of course, like the Colonel himself, his explanations often didn't make a great deal of sense.
The only response the incredibly intelligent theoretical astrophysicist could come up with (aside from "Huh?") was "You like my *hair*?"
"Yeah," Jack nodded. "It's...short."
"You like my hair because it's short." Her brain was trying to deal with this concept, and considering it was usually accustomed with dealing with far greater concepts and didn't have any trouble with them at all, she was starting to get a little...
"Nah," he chuckled. "I like your hair because it's...hair."
Well that made her feel a little less anxious. Sort of. "Thank you. Sir. Your hair is also very...hairy."
Again they nodded in silence for a few moments.
"Your turn," Jack said.
"To pay me a compliment."
"I just did."
"Nah, that was a 'yeah, me too'. Come on, something original."
"Is that how this is supposed to work? We take turns?"
"Yep." He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself.
"I really should get back to my test results..." As if that put an end to the matter, she bent back down over her table and stared at the numbers and letters in front of her, trying to pretend at this particular moment in time that they made any sense at all.
She didn't hear him move. Damn that Black Ops training. She only knew that he had when a warm voice next to her face murmured "Chickening out, Carter?"
Well, that was it. She'd managed to avoid it until now but war had pretty much been declared. Determined not to crack she stood to her full height, looked him squarely in the eye and said, "Would you care to pull up a chair, sir?"
Daniel heard the raised voices from two corridors away, which was pretty impressive given that the SGC complex was constructed mainly of steel and concrete. Wondering what Jack and Sam could have been arguing about - after all, it was usually him and Jack who did the arguing - he hurried along, wanting to find out what was causing it, what was happening now, how to solve it, and - most important of all - wanting to eavesdrop.
Reaching the corridor outside Sam's office, he stopped just short of the doorway and did just that.
Sam's voice was the first thing he heard clearly.
"-just saying that although you can be a brilliant tactician, you can be too impulsive!"
"Oh that's a good one coming from Miss 'I can't leave Cassie alone because she's got a bomb in her chest', or 'Let's save this man's life and get infested with a Goa'uld', or 'Let's transport up to Thor's ship when the Colonel gave us direct orders not to'!"
Daniel winced. This was going to get-
"At least I don't have a broken rib and tell no one about it, or I don't refuse permission for someone to transport up to an alien ship because there's a risk of death, or I don't agree to undergo a process that will probably kill me but will save someone else's life!"
Surprised at the anger in her voice, Daniel crept closer to the doorway. Was Sam talking about that zar'tac business? He hadn't been there when it had been proved that they weren't zar'tac's but by all accounts it had been interesting - even if he didn't actually know what had happened.
And then he realised something else: Jack hadn't said anything.
No angry response, no smart-ass comment. Nothing.
Until, a quiet, un-Jack-like voice said,
"That...zar'tac...thing...it wouldn't have killed me. I mean, I wasn't a zar'tac. Neither of us were."
Sam's voice was almost as quiet. "We didn't know that at the time, sir."
She had a good point.
"Yeah." An audible sigh was heard before Jack continued. "Sam?"
"Yes?" No sir, this time. No Jack, but no sir either.
"I like your hair."
A chuckle echoed into the corridor. "Thank you. I like yours, too."
Deciding enough was enough, Daniel walked into Sam's office casually, hoping desperately that he didn't look like he'd been listening in for the last few minutes. "Hi guys," He greeted. "What's up?"
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