Chapter Text
"Jack, she said yes. Are you seriously—"
"I don’t want to hear it, Daniel." Jack cut him off sharply, his voice cold and dismissive. His eyes flickered between Daniel and Teal'c, catching the concerned looks from both. "She's happy. I'm happy. I don’t need this little intervention ya got goin' on." He gestured vaguely to the paperwork strewn across his desk, much of which pertained to Teal'c’s little adventure. "Now, will ya get outta my office? I’m a very busy General."
Teal'c inclined his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment that there was no use pressing further. With a firm hand on Daniel’s shoulder, he steered him toward the door.
"Very well," Teal'c said, his deep voice calm as ever, but his eyes lingering on Jack for a second longer. Daniel, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth opening briefly before Teal'c guided him out of the office, shutting the door behind them.
Jack sighed heavily, muttering a curse under his breath once the door clicked shut. Carter was getting married. Married. To some damn cop. Not him.
Grimacing, Jack landed two sharp right hooks, the impact reverberating up his arm. Then, a swift uppercut, imagining Pete’s face in the center of the bag. Another two punches followed, harder this time, until the bag swung back with force. Jack grabbed it, stilling its momentum, and pressed his forehead against the cool, worn leather.
His breath came out in heavy pants as he stood there, eyes closed, trying to ground himself. He shouldn’t be picturing Carter’s fiancé like this. It wasn’t fair to her.
She deserved better, didn’t she? Better than a stubborn, broken man with weak knees, a bad sense of humor, and a past that was anything but simple.
"Sir."
He turned slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. There she was—standing in the doorway of the gym, looking hesitant, biting her lower lip in that way she did when she was nervous. "Carter."
"Daniel and Teal’c are coming to my celebration dinner at O’Malley’s tonight." She hesitated, her eyes searching his face for any sign of a response. "You’re invited."
Jack felt a knot form in his chest. He glanced at her, her features soft, but there was something in her eyes—something vulnerable.
"Sure you want me there?" His words came out gruffer than intended. "Seems more like an SG-1 thing." And there he was, making excuses.
"Sir..." Her voice was steady, but her eyes were full of sincerity. "You’ll always be a part of SG-1."
God, that hurt.
'I wouldn’t be here if I’d retired.'
'I wouldn’t be here if I’d chosen happiness.'
'I wouldn’t be here because I would’ve been with you.'
Jack ripped off his gloves, tossing them into his gym bag with more force than necessary. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face, trying to hide the turmoil he was feeling.
"As much as I’d love to," he said, his voice quieter now, almost regretful, "I’ve got a base to run. SG-18’s coming back a little late tonight." He forced a half-hearted smile, not meeting her eyes, and without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there.
It was better this way, wasn’t it? Letting her go. Letting the cop be the one at her side. He’d be there for her in the ways Jack couldn’t.
Someone better. Someone who wasn’t tied down by duty, by regulations, by all the things that had made him keep his distance for so long.
She deserved better than him.