Set during Emancipation.

Freedom of a Different Sort

The pop and crackle of the fire drew Jack's attention from the celebrating villagers and he shifted again on the log upon which he was perched. He watched Daniel work his way through the crowd, knowing the archaeologist was in his element. New people, new cultures. Behind Jack Teal'c sat silently, taking in everything.

A nudge at his elbow brought Jack's attention back to the small man beside him. Smiling a broad, nearly toothless grin, the old man was passing a plate laden with still more meat. Jack started to wave him off then thought again. With a nod to his dinner companion, he took the plate and rose to his feet, his knees popping once or twice as he moved.

"I'm gonna check in on Carter. Keep an eye on our boy, will you?"

Teal'c nodded his assent, his eyes immediately tracking to Daniel.

With an absentminded pat to Teal'c's shoulder, Jack stepped away from the men around the fire and made his way to the tent where he'd left Carter. He figured she'd be out of her mind with boredom by now.

Sam looked up as the entryway to the tent rustled again, expecting to see yet another curious woman poking her head in. That had been going on all night. A small, dark-haired head would pop in, look her over from head to toe and pop back out, followed by barely-concealed giggles. It was getting old. Temporary 'anthropologist' or not, and future cultural relations aside, the next time it happened she was going to lob her boot at the door. The rustling stopped, but that didn't stop her from reaching over and snagging her discarded boot. No harm in having it handy. She turned her attention back to her notebook.

"'Bring an all male team next time.'" She snorted softly. "Over my dead body. Sir."

"Excuse me?"

O'Neill's soft voice startled her and Sam snapped her head up, her attention back on the door. Shit, hope he didn't hear that.

"Uh, sir?"

"Sorry, Carter, I thought I heard you say something about 'over your dead body'?"

Sitting up further on the cushions that made up her bed, Sam felt a hot flush color her cheeks. She watched as her CO entered and settled himself on the edge of her pile of cushions, carefully balancing a plate of food on his knee. Colonel Jack O'Neill. He was still an enigma to her. Despite nearly two months of serving together, she was having a hard time getting a handle on what made him tick.

What she knew of him she knew by reputation only, and very little personal experience. He was smarter than he let on and fiercely loyal to those with whom he served. He'd humored her during her disastrous encounter with the local brew on P3X-595 when he could just as easily have thrown the book at her. And that thing with Kowalsky... She remembered standing in the control room, Charlie Kowalsky holding her close, his hand covering her mouth, and seeing a flash of shock and fear fly across the Colonel's face. Whether it was a reaction to seeing a member of his own team being threatened or a trusted friend doing the threatening, she wasn't sure. She could still hear his voice as he shouted at the SP's, ordering them not to shoot as Kowalsky dragged her to the gateroom, knowing that his concern was for both her and the sick Major. Sam also knew he'd been more devastated then he'd let on by Major Kowalsky's death. She flashed back to the locker room at the SGC...

Carter strode into the locker room and stopped, caught by the sight of Colonel O'Neill wiping his eyes with his sleeve. There was no way she could gracefully leave without making either of them more uncomfortable, so she slowly stepped forward, letting the door close behind her.

"Sorry, Colonel. I, ah, didn't know you were here."

O'Neill kept his back to her as he gently placed a small box back into his locker. He cleared his throat, grabbed his ball cap and turned to leave.

Carter jumped as O'Neill slammed his locker closed. She waited until he was nearly to the door before speaking up.

"Sir?"

O'Neill froze, his hand on the knob and his back to the room.

"Yes, Captain?"

Now that she'd stopped him, she wasn't sure how to say what she wanted to. She set the gear she was carrying down onto the bench and turned back to O'Neill. She approached her CO and ducked her head uncomfortably.

"I'm...uh, I am sorry about Major Kowalsky, Sir." She watched as O'Neill stiffened at her words and knew she probably shouldn't have said anything. Too late now. "He, ah, seemed like a really great guy, and–"

"Carter?" O'Neill cut her off, yanking open the door to the locker room. "He was, and...thanks."

O'Neill cleared his throat, watching Carter's eyes as she snapped her gaze to his, pulling her from her thoughts. He held out the plate of food he'd brought along.

"Thought you might be hungry."

"Thanks." She took the plate and began picking at the food. "I guess the women get to eat after the men, so...yeah, I'm hungry. Thank you, Colonel."

"You all right?"

Carter shrugged, her attention on her food. Beside her, O'Neill shifted, trying not to slide off of the slippery cushions and onto the floor.

"Look," he gestured to the tent in which she was confined. "I'm really sorry about this."

"Are you? Sir?" She knew the honorific was added a little too late for courtesy but hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Sure I am, why?"

"It's just that...you know...maybe next time, the 'all male team,' and all that..."

"Aw, c'mon, Captain. I was kidding. You know that."

Carter set aside her now empty plate and cocked her head, her wide blue eyes studying her CO.

"Well, no Sir. I didn't. I mean, I thought you were, but..." She shrugged. "Sorry. Maybe it's just the dress, or the attitudes here, but I'm feeling a bit..." Sam trailed off, looking around the tent. Anywhere but at her commanding officer.

"Left out?"

"Vulnerable, I guess."

"Well, it's certainly not the dress."

Carter's head snapped up and she studied O'Neill's face, not sure if he'd heard him correctly. For his part, the Colonel seemed suddenly focused on the tassle that dangled from a nearby pillow. She glanced down at her attire, seeing it for the first time as it was, a beautiful dress that complimented her coloring, and not just as a symbol of her status within the society in which they were camping.

O'Neill cleared his throat and glanced at her. "Sorry, Captain, that was out of line."

Carter shook her head and felt a soft smile steal across her lips. "No, sir, it wasn't." She ducked her head, her gaze fropping away from his. "And...thank you."

"You know when I made that crack about the all-male team that I wasn't doubting you, right? I mean, despite what you said."

"Really?"

"Captain..." O'Neill paused, then started again. "Carter...after our experience with Apophis, how could I possibly doubt your abilities as a member of my team? Do you really believe that?"

"I...no, I guess not. Sorry, Colonel."

"Don't worry about it."

O'Neill studied her for a moment, then leaned back against the cushions and stretched his legs out before him. He nudged one of her boots aside and crossed his feet at the ankles, a picture of relaxation. Beside him sat one of the most intelligent, capable officers with whom he'd ever served and she was looking to him for reassurance. He shook his head, a bit disgusted with himself. He shouldn't have made the crack about the all male team; he didn't know her well enough to make cracks like that. They were getting there, but not quite yet. Through eyes slitted mostly closed, he watched as Carter followed his example and leaned back, adjusting the yards of material of skirt around her legs. The drums outside continued to pound as the party outside carried on, reminding O'Neill of the party the natives of P3X-595 had thrown for their team. At least Carter had been allowed to stay and party with the team then. O'Neill smothered a quick grin at the effect the local fermented drink had had on his Second.

"What's so funny, sir?"

"Nothing, Captain. Nothing at all."

"You don't have to stay here, Colonel. You know, keep me company. I really am fine here on my own."

"Kicking me out, Captain?"

"Ah, no sir. I just meant –"

"I know what you meant, Carter. For now, I'm right where I want to be."

Carter watched her CO for another moment as he closed his eyes again. His impossibly long eyelashes brushed his cheeks and caught the light as he tilted his head back. She didn't often have this chance, to sit and study him, and she took advantage of the opportunity

"Colonel?"

"Carter?"

Carter leaned all the way back into the cushions, mimicking the Colonel's pose. Her fur-covered foot brushed O'Neill's as she stretched and she didn't move it, enjoying the brief connection with someone familiar, someone who knew who she was and what she could do.

"Thanks for dinner."

"Anytime."