Rating: PG (But that's erring on the side of caution.) 
Disclaimer: So incredibly Not. Mine. No soy original. 
Spoilers: Err... uber-fluffy futurefic. I'm not lying. It's really REALLY fluffy.  
I guess spoilers for season six, but not really because no one's mentioned  
by name. 
  
Notes: All. Jojo's. Fault. Evil French spy! 
 
*** 
 
It 
by A.j. 
 
*** 
 
They really had to stop doing this. 
 
It was getting ridiculous. 
 
Not that anyone seemed to mind, really. It had been something of a  
shock to find out just how many people cared about his love life. Or  
lack there of, given the circumstances. 
 
Not anymore though. Hee! Oh, lord, this was seriously insane. 
 
The worst part was, he had no idea when It had started happening. 
 
Okay, sure, it had probably started around the time General Hammond's  
memo on 'Internal Reorganization' had finally decided to find its way  
to his inbox. Well, possibly not then. He'd been too pissed for it to  
start then. He didn't WANT to lose his second in command. He *liked*  
his second in command. 
 
Maybe it'd started after General Hammond had stoically indicated that  
yes he knew that Jack liked his second in command. He knew it quite  
well, from the yards and yards of commendations, and observations,  
and a certain tape having to do with a certain machine that made  
certain Colonels admit things they didn't even know they knew. Right. 
 
Well, not then either, come to think of it. There'd been the  
stammering and the rationalization then. And the bone-deep  
embarrassment when General Hammond had clapped him on the back and  
muttered, "You can kiss her on the cheek this time, Jack." 
 
It could have started some time in the following two months. During a  
random moment where they weren't being pelted with mud, or sleet, or  
water of some varying sort. Not likely though, because SG-1 had been  
on the receiving end of a bad karma crap storm, the likes of which he  
could only compare to things like He Who Will Not Be Mentioned and  
Iraq. Anubis officially sucked. No, it hadn't been then either. 
 
Jack O'Neill was nothing if not easily distracted. 
 
Still, it had to have been in the days leading up to the ceremony. It  
HAD to have been. Maybe when she'd wandered into his office bearing  
coffee. Or one of the multiple times she'd looked at him just like  
*that* after going on an extended diatribe about some rarely known  
fact in particle mechanics that was giving her trouble. As if she  
ever really had trouble. She so knew he was starting to figure out  
what she was talking about. He knew the woman was evil, and he was  
fairly sure she made it worse than it seemed just to wind him up. 
 
She'd been doing that for years anyway. It might not have been then.  
But... 
 
Well, maybe *not* then. It hadn't really sunk in yet. 
 
How do you come to terms with something like that? Not working with  
someone after spending nearly seven years in their metaphorical  
pocket? Well, Jack was Jack, and in JackWorld, this called for a  
heavy dose of not thinking about it. 
 
So he hadn't. So it hadn't been then. Huh. 
 
Wait, it hadn't been during the ceremony, had it? Had it taken that  
long for him to start doing It? Surely not... 
 
But... maybe. 
 
Because what can you do when you pin oak leaves on your second in  
command's lapels beside grin inanely? Or when you're kissing her  
cheek? Or telling her that she's going to be heading up her own team?  
Bossing people around in a way you're damn proud to say is bizarrely  
similar to your own? 
 
Or when you both realize, rather comically according to your friends,  
that she actually *can* say yes to that fishing invite you've been  
harping on for years? 
 
Yeah, they really had to stop doing this. Because smiling? All the  
time? Really not something that goes with the Jack O'Neill image.  
Really. 
 
-fin-