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lolmac: Jack's hands.Jack's hands have pulled a trigger, hurled a baseball, saluted his superiors, touched his wife's cheek. He's used them to assemble a nuclear bomb to blow up a Goa'uld and to grasp alien fingers in acknowledgment of encountering the Asgard. His hands have gripped a fishing pole, embraced a friend, moved swiftly and competently under combat conditions.
These hands have failed him only once: when they scrabbled uselessly to apply pressure to a fatal wound, when the blood pumped relentlessly out of a tiny body, and bright eyes never opened again.
He's never forgiven them for that failure... or himself.
For
writinginct: Jack finds a Zippo lighter that was Kawalsky's.Jack stopped smoking after the Abydos mission. After giving Skaara his lighter and blowing up Ra, he didn't seem to need it anymore.
So when they went back to Abydos and explored the cartouche, it was Kawalsky, not Jack, who had a Zippo lighter handy in his pocket to light Daniel's torch. The flames leaped upwards and glinted off golden walls that promised to unlock the universe.
It was days later, when Jack cleaned out Kalwasky's locker, that he found the lighter again. Closing his fingers tightly around it, Jack tried to tell himself the universe was worth the price.
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sg1danny: Jack, Cassie, and dog."I'm calling him Axi," Cassie announced.
"Nice name," Jack agreed. "Does it have a special meaning from back in... Toronto?"
"Not really. It's just a name."
Jack, sensing something unspoken, waited.
"We had a pet back home," Cassie said finally. "I called her Axi. She was -- a kind of cat, I guess. She chased away any animals that might eat our grain."
Jack, too intelligent to ask Do you miss her?, observed, "This Axi will probably chase animals, too. It won't be too useful, though."
"There are different kinds of useful," Cassie murmured, and buried her face in Axi's fur.
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thothmes: Jack, silly putty, HammondHammond checked himself at the threshold to Colonel O'Neill's office and simply stared. A stepladder near the bookshelves, meticulous piles of books, several boxes. What...?
"For optimum performance, sir, we need to lengthen each grade by three centimeters."
"It's a slinky, Carter! Can't you just have fun for once?"
Captain Carter looked surprised. "I am having fun, sir."
O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. So starting from the shelf, it'll go to the stepladder and then..."
Chuckling quietly, Hammond decided to come back another time to discuss improving general morale. There didn't seem to be any need at the moment.
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hooloovoo_42: It's all about the fishing!Jack fishes for reactions from strangers he meets: biting sarcasm, blunt truths, outrageous bluffs. He fishes for chinks in his enemies' armor: probing for weak spots, seeking allies, discovering flaws. And he fishes for greater understanding of his friends: learning their skills, augmenting their weaknesses, and sneaking in some support. The fishing routine is a lifelong habit by now; he's not sure he's capable of being entirely passive any more. He always need to pry, to prod.
But even when he's lounging on a rough wooden dock with a cooler of beer at his side, he never fishes for fish.
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magnavox_23: Jack, 'these broken wings.'Life threw a lot of punches at Jack over the years. He always picked himself up, dusted himself off, and finished whatever he needed to do.
But twice, the blow was so hard, so shattering, that Jack couldn't find the pieces anymore that kept him moving.
The first time was Charlie. The second time, Ba'al.
His first recovery became a suicide mission turned snake-killing victory. His second recovery was a fighting chance for escape.
Both times, though, it was Daniel who helped put him back together again. And Jack will never find a better definition for friendship than that.
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izhilzha: Are you there, G-d? It's me, Jack.Jack often struggled with faith and the definition of goodness. He believed his Special Forces operations were necessary and right, even if he sometimes distrusted those who issued his orders. Yet he killed with sniper bullets, broke international laws, performed ops that would never see the light of day. The people he protected -- Sara, Charlie -- were his shield against doubt.
After Charlie's death, Jack's faith in himself, as well as in something higher, went brittle and broken. His team -- his friends -- became something to trust instead.
It's why he shouted at Daniel, down in that pit.
"That's where you're wrong!"
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sid: Jack throws a barbecue.Daniel peered down at the smoking lumps of char on the grill. "Is that supposed to be meat, Jack?" he asked dubiously.
"Steak is best when it's well done," protested Jack, defensive.
"I was unaware that 'well done' is synonymous with 'charcoal,' O'Neill." Teal'c raised a knowing eyebrow.
Jack huffed a little and set down the tongs. "You people don't know good steaks when you see 'em!"
"Oh, we do," Daniel said sweetly. "That's the point."
"We're safe, guys! I've got the pizza!" Sam called cheerily as she rounded the corner of the house.
Jack sighed and gave up.
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gategremlyn: Jack loses his voice."Can you say nothing, O'Neill?"
Jack glared at Teal'c, adding an emphatic gesture.
"There's more than one way to communucate," Daniel observed with a wicked grin.
"Daniel," Sam chastised, although her lips were twitching. "It's just your vocal cords, isn't it, sir? You can still breathe normally?"
Jack nodded sulkily.
"Right, then," Sam said briskly. "Daniel, you go smooth things over. The rest of us will head back to the Gate."
"I'll make sure we can come back," Daniel promised. "And Jack? Next time, don't insult the chief's pet chihuahua."
Kill Daniel, Jack reminded himself, and followed his team out.
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crazedturkey: Bad day.Jack knows that "bad day" is relative. For ordinary people leading regular lives, it might be caused by a flat tire, a shouting boss, a bad cold, ruined plans. For those who work at the SGC, the baseline tends to be a little higher. "Bad day" could be a foothold situation, a Jaffa invasion, a mission gone south, even a visit from Kinsey.
For Jack, though, it's very simple. It doesn't matter if he gets into a firefight or a snarkfest with a Goa'uld. As long as he brings all his people home, it's not a bad day at all.
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sallymn: 'It seemed like a good idea at the time...'Jack always plans, assesses, evaluates... but he also goes by instinct when he makes his decisions.
Deep down, he knows it might not be the smartest thing to do. More than once, he has to explain those decisions to his superiors, and "It seemed like a good idea at the time, sir" usually meets with an unsympathetic response.
But Jack keeps right on doing it. Because when you're dealing with snakeheads and metal bugs and little gray guys and everything else the universe throws at you, logic goes right out the window. His instinct is the best tool he's got.
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zats_clear: Jack, paperwork, AtlantisJack reluctantly took the controls. He grumbled as the screen brightened at his touch.
"There have got to be other people who can do this, Carter! What about that gene therapy thing?"
"Gene therapy does allow for the use of some Ancient tech," Sam answered patiently, "but you have a very high degree of control, sir. It shouldn't take long."
"I can't believe you're making me access the Atlantis database so you can do some Ancient paperwork," he complained.
Sam's eyes twinkled. "Cheer up, General," she said, her voice suspiciously bright. "At least it doesn't have to be in triplicate."