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Weight of the Worsted Kind

by Christi


Jack knew that he should be stronger than this. That honestly, the idea of simply walking up to someone’s front door shouldn’t make him queasy. But then, there was a very simple reason he had let Sara have the house without any protestation at all – he still couldn’t stand the sight of it.

He knew it was irrational. But all the same, every time he climbed the steps on that front porch, part of him stopped, waiting for the soul-killing crack of his gun.

But he could do this for Sara. She deserved at least that much.

So he got out of his truck and climbed the dreaded stairs, holding his breath the entire time. It wasn’t until he had rung the doorbell and was safely ensconced on the welcome mat that he let it out in a slow, even stream.

Until Sara swung open the door and his breath caught. God, she was still so damn beautiful. “I, um, know I’m late,” he offered.

She leaned against the doorframe, imposing and cool. “Only a few weeks. Honestly, you could have just put them in the mail.”

“I…no. No, I wanted to do it in person. Besides, I’ve been erm, away.” Which here meant ‘stuck in a damn Infirmary bed in the middle of a God-forsaken glacier where there were definitely no post offices’.

“Really? Where?”

Jack grimaced, but before he could even get out the standard line, she laughed. “Let me guess: it’s classified?”

His smile was weak, but there. “You know me well.”

“Not so much anymore. It’s just that some things never change.” Her eyes trailed down, locked on the cane he still needed for a week or so while his leg adjusted. “So I suppose there’s no point in asking me what happened?” she asked while eyeing him.

He shrugged. “It’s just temporary.”


Yeah, it was becoming pretty clear that she was still pissed at him. This whole thing might have gone better a few months ago, but after that whole Crystal Entity disaster and now being late getting these back to her…well, it was a credit to her nature that she hadn’t thrown things at him through the window.

Awkwardly, he shoved the manila envelope towards her. “Um, so, I brought you these, all signed and everything.” He shifted awkwardly on his feet, twirling the yarn in his hand before realizing what it was and pulling it from around his neck. “Oh, and I made you this scarf. I know it’ll be a few months before you can really use it, but well, let’s just say I’ve been thinking about being warm a lot lately.”

Sara blinked. “You made this?”

“Err, yeah. But that’s not really important.”

She was silent for awhile, no doubt trying to make sense of his erratic behavior. Finally, she seemed to just accept it in that way she was so good at. “Thank you.”


They stood in silence for a little while, and finally Sara waved the manila envelope at him. “So, tomorrow I’ll get these filed and by the end of the week, you should once again be a single man.”

He went to stuff his hands in his pockets, but remembered that he still needed one for the cane he was still using and ended up just flailing a bit strangely. “Yeah.”

“Looking forward to it?” she asked weakly.

How could she even…? “No,” he said bluntly. “But it’s probably for the best.”

Her smile was sad. “Probably,” she echoed. “You seem…better. Than you were.”

Honestly, he didn’t think that was too hard – Iraq had been a cakewalk compared to how he had been. “I think I am. Or getting there, anyway. It’s a process thing.”

She nodded. “It is.”

Jack hesitated before saying anything else. “I’m sorry, you know. That I couldn’t….before. And just for…well, everything.”

“Oh, Jack,” Sara sighed, leaning even more heavily against the doorframe. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

On that subject, it seemed that they were doomed to disagree. But Jack didn’t bother saying that – the last thing he wanted right now was to start an argument.

He just hated standing there, having no idea what to say to this woman. This wonderful woman, who he had loved for nearly a decade of his life, had somehow become stranger to him than fighting space aliens. Jack suspected there was a really deep metaphor in there somewhere for life, the universe, and everything, but it escaped him at the moment.

“If you ever need anything…” he started.

She just sent another bittersweet smile his way. “I know. But I’ll be fine. You?”

Somehow, he found himself smiling, too. “Yeah. I’ve got a whole team watching my six.”

“Are they good at it?”

He thought about Teal’c’s loyalty and Daniel’s determination and Sam’s brilliance. “Ridiculously. And they’re all way smarter than me, so….”

She laughed. “Well, thank God for that.”

“No kidding,” he retorted with a sheepish smile. After one more minute of now slightly less awkward silence, he broke. “Hey, c’mere.”

She was in his arms practically before he had finished his sentence, and God, holding her and knowing it was going to be the last time was a very specific kind of pain. Jack desperately wanted to say something profound, something worthy of her, but he had never really been good at the whole emotional exchange thing. So he finally settled on brushing a kiss in her hair and whispering, “Be happy, okay?”

When she pulled away she was crying, but somehow it didn’t hurt so much to see it. “You too, Jack.”

He smiled a crooked smile as he turned to hobble back down to his truck. “I’ll work on it.”

I’ve had it pointed out to me that most people might assume that Jack’s divorce is finalized by this point in the series. In reality, during Cold Lazarus they never say for certain that they’re divorced – Daniel calls them separated. And during Solitudes, while Jack does refer to Sara as his ex-wife, I sort of think that people do that before it’s really official. Honestly, just go with it.

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