Fallen From Grace

Summary: Jack snapped his head toward the sound. Sitting against the wall behind him was a leggy blonde, with a leather jacket and black jeans. (Missing scenes from Abyss) S/J

A/N: Sam had Grace, McKay had Grace Under Pressure. Now it's Jack's time to have a hallucination or two!

Dislaimer: I don't own Stargate or any of its characters

Thank you Nancy

"That is the mystery of grace: it never comes too late. -François Mauriac (1885-1970)

It was cold. He was sore. And he had just been brought to life again.

He must be some kind of extra concentrated zombie by now. He was the ultimate, ultra undead. He was also descending to alliteration. Things must be getting tragic.

Keep the spirits up, that's what his Grandmother always told him. Generally, she had meant the stockpile of gin, but the sentiment had stuck with him for decades. Defeat was never optional. Laughter – always a plus.

But the stock pile of laughter was running low and he'd died about three times today. Definitely tragic.

Where the hell was Daniel? The dirty space monkey hadn't been to see him for at least two days worth of deaths. Maybe dying was old hat for the archaeologist. Jack grinned to himself. He must be beating Daniel in the death-count by now. Sucker!

He wondered how long it would be till the next torture session. Hours? Days? He couldn't stand it that long! He didn't want to live that long!

Come on, Daniel!!

Jack's arms stared to shake. He couldn't stand being alone in here. All he could hear were his own thoughts and he was damned sure they were driving him insane. He just wanted to end it!

Daniel had said this kind of thing would happen. Jack could feel himself slipping away. He was getting angrier and angrier. He felt as though he could kill someone if they were in arm's reach. He would kill himself if only he could.

He took in a deep breath. So much for laughter.

He heard a giggle.

"Daniel?"

What the hell? Daniel didn't giggle. At least he hoped he didn't. Jack looked wildly around him. He couldn't see anyone. Crap. Now he was hearing things.

Someone coughed.

"Daniel!" He cried. Why wasn't he showing himself? "Son of a…"

The giggle returned, louder than before. Sexier too. Definitely not Daniel. Jack snapped his head toward the sound. Sitting against the wall behind him was a leggy blonde, with a leather jacket and black jeans. Her hair was brushed over her eyes and she blinked up at him, a luminous smile glowing on her face.

"Carter?" He asked incredulously. What on earth was she doing here?

"Hey Jack," she said, lazily and waved a perfectly manicured hand at him.

"Excuse me?"

She giggled again. Jack frowned. Carter never giggled. He would know. It was his daily goal to make her giggle like that.

"What are you…did Daniel bring you here?" Jack asked, looking around for his ascended friend. Carter shook her head. Jack frowned.

"Am I dead?" He was half-hoping he was. But Carter shook her head again.

"Am I hallucinating?"

Carter grinned.

"Your subconscious mind conjured an image of me to keep you company until Daniel gets back," she said pushing up the sleeves of her leather jacket, only to watch them fall back down again.

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked.

"Yeah. Basically, you're talking to yourself."

Jack frowned again. There was no way could he have come up with that techno-babble by himself.

"Uh! Don't even start!" Carter said, before Jack could even open his mouth. She lifted an authoritative finger up at him.

"Start what?" Jack asked.

"Your little 'I'm too dumb to understand you' act. I know you're intelligent Jack. You know I know that!"

"I thought you were me talking to me," he said.

He appeared to have thrown her off guard. "And?"

"So what you're really saying is, I know that I know I'm intelligent?" Jack remarked, smirking.

"Don't be a smartass, Jack," Sam said with a roll of her eyes.

Jack pouted. This hallucination was for too insubordinate for his liking.

"You don't seem much like my Carter," he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Your Carter?" she asked with a grin.

Jack rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean," he said.

"I know exactly what you mean," she said, with a playful wink.

"And just because I'm not swamped in my BDUs, hovering over a piece of technology at three o'clock in the morning doesn't mean that I'm not the same geek you know and love."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. Sam smiled, knowing what he was thinking.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really and truly," she answered. "I'm a leather-wearing, P-90-shooting, doohickey-studying, cello-playing, piece of ass!"

"Now I know you're me talking," Jack said.

Sam laughed and nodded. "I do a mean Louis Armstrong impression too."

Jack chuckled. "You play the cello?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Sure – why not?" Sam grinned. Jack smiled back at her and watched as she flicked her hair out of her eyes again. It was longer than usual. He liked it that long. She had let it grow to that length two years ago and he had loved it. He'd always wanted to brush it with his fingers or ruffle it.

Sam seemed to notice that he was staring. She fidgeted, shyly and straightened out the collar of her leather jacket.

"Have I seen that before?" Jack asked.

"What?" Sam murmured.

"Your jacket," Jack said. "It looks familiar." He racked his brain. When, other than senseless delusions had he ever seen his 2IC decked out in leather? And if he had, why in the name of all things holy couldn't he remember when? Surely a leather-clad-Carter would be a sight not easily forgotten.

"Steaks," she supplied, looking over her jacket.

"Steaks?" he asked.

"Yeah. I wore this jacket when we went out for steaks." She looked down for a second. "You know…when Anise…and the armbands…" she trailed off with an apologetic grimace.

"Oh," he said remembering the night in question. That had been just before they had gone off on that idiot mission to blow up Apophis' ship. That stupid mission had ruined any sense of pretense he had regarding his feelings for her. Damned Za'tackle thing! "Oh," he said again, realizing why she looked so apologetic.

She grimaced again, and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"That's why he came here," Jack said.

"What?' Sam asked, clearly confused.

"Kanan. He came here because of that."

"Oh," Sam said. "Because of steaks?"

"No," Jack said, with a frustrated and amused huff. "Because of…what happened on the ship."

"Because you wouldn't leave me," Sam said.

"Right," almost whispered.

"He learned never to leave people behind."

Jack nodded.

"He loved her," Jack said, after a short while.

"Kanan?"

"Yeah," Jack said, fiddling with one of the holes in his shirt. "He loved her," he repeated.

"I think she might have loved him too," Sam said from under her eyelashes, looking uncomfortable as she watched him.

Jack smiled softly. This was more like his Carter. She smiled back at him sadly and looked down at her hands.

"Who?" Jack asked, with a sudden surge of confidence. If she wasn't really Sam, then it didn't really matter if they got into an actual conversation over what they were both so obviously trying to say.

"What?' Sam asked.

"Who loved him? Him who?"

"I think you know, Jack," Sam said quietly.

"Then say it."

Sam sighed and smiled. She stood up and placed herself right in front of him. He could hear her breathing.

"You, Jack," she said. "She loves you."

Her face was pink and her voice barely above a whisper. Jack was so enthralled that he could hardly remain standing. "He loves you too," he said and placed a hand on her cheek. She was so warm and soft.

"Who?" A voice boomed on his other side.

Jack jumped and let out a yell.

Daniel was leaning against the wall next to him.

"Daniel!" Jack growled and turned back to face Sam. She was gone.

"Nice to see you too, Jack," Daniel grunted. "Who were you talking to?"

Jack looked back at the empty space where Sam had just been.

"No one," he grumbled. "Just myself."