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Title: The Other Man
Author name: Icarus
Author email: email@example.com
Sub Category: Humor
Summary: Quetzalcoatl says that the Gou'ald doesn't destroy cultures, merely adds to them. Daniel's rebuttal is fervent -- but Jack wins the debate.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and universe contained in this story are Copyright MGM, Showtime, Gekko, Double Secret. No infringement on their copyright is implied, and no money has changed hands. Copyright © 2005 by Icarus Ancalion. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or part without the author's explicit permission. Ask, guys. I'm easy to reach and usually quite generous.
Author notes: Written for Sharp Tongue, and beta'd by her.
The Other Man
The kitchen was dark with only the light on over the sink, turned low on the dimmer switch.
Sara shut off the water and sponged down the faucet, wringing the sponge out into the drain. That left her with... no more excuses to avoid the living room. But she did so just the same, waiting, with her hands on the edge of the counter. It was dark outside too, and there was nothing to see but a black window.
She could hear the low murmur of men's voices from here; Jack's deep baritone, and now and again a softer voice, very mild. Edged with humor and self-mockery. She'd been prepared to hate that voice and the man that came with it, but she found she couldn't. Which was disappointing. She supposed she was getting old.
She felt rather than heard Jack come in and lean against the kitchen doorway; there was almost a warmth to his presence behind her. Could almost see the worn shirt pulled tight across his chest, the bit of t-shirt peeking out underneath. He waited, too, studying her, weighing her mood. There was the soft plosh of the beer as he took another sip. Forcing her, as usual, to make the first move.
"So he's the one?" she said sharply.
It came out a lot harsher than she intended. She turned to look at him to soften it, but his eyes were tracing the patterns on the floor. She never could read him. They stood in silence in the dark kitchen.
Just about when she'd given up on an answer, he said: "It's only for one night."
Jack looked up at her, his warm, dark eyes glinting. He'd said he was sorry once; he wasn't going to repeat himself. His tone grew frustrated, "He had nowhere else to go." He left out the for crying out loud; which was smart of him.
"He could've stayed on base."
Not charitable, she knew, but she was past caring at this point. She might not be able to hate this 'Daniel Jackson' but she'd be damned if she was going to share.
"I can't say that I don't regret what happened, because I do," he said, having the nerve to sound hurt. "And it isn't... You just have to trust me that history isn't gonna repeat itself. What happened on Abydos..." She stiffened and didn't want to hear it again, his rush of explanations about 'a man' and 'a night' and 'a situation.' "But I'm not gonna stop being his friend. I owe him at least that much."
And that was it, wasn't it? Because he was a man it was somehow not okay for her demand Jack never see him again. Because a man could be a buddy but a woman was what-? She was awed at the double standard.
"Do what you want," Sara said, turning her back on him. "You will anyways."