Conflict Of The Heart, Chosen Hearts Series, S4

by HDorothy

Special thanks for the wonderful reviews for this series! After almost losing Sam to the Entity, Jack makes a critical decision that could alter the future of SG1 and most of all, his and Sam’s.

Title: Conflict of the Heart - Chosen Hearts Series - S4 - 420

Author: HailDorothy

Category: Friendship, Comfort, Romance, Angst, Humor

Warning: Usual SG-1 language – Jack's mouth

Season: 4

Spoilers: 114 Singularities/401-420 Entity

Warning: Usual SG-1 language, sexual content

Pairing: S/J

Rating: T+

Story Summary: After almost losing Sam to the Entity, Jack confronts his ability to be an effective CO and makes a critical decision that could change the future of SG-1 and most of all, his and Sam's.

Supporting characters: Daniel, Oma, Janet, and General Hammond

File Size: 304KB

Archive: Jackfic, GateWorld, Heliopolis, SamandJack, FanFiction

Series Summary: This is an established storyline in which Jack and Sam fell in love during Jack's retirement. When Jack is re-commissioned and Sam inadvertently assigned his subordinate, they pretend to be strangers and put their wannabe lovers relationship on hold. Little do they realize it will not be a matter of months, but years, before they can follow through on the desire of their chosen hearts.

Author's Note: With a few obvious exceptions, I remain true to canon.

Song: 'I Hate You Then I Love You' Celine Dion and Luciano Pavarotti, © 1997 (Hey, remember Jack loves Opera!)

Author's note: There is a lot of angst going on here, but plenty O'Neill wit and a guaranteed or your money back happy ending!

Appreciation: To Susie B. and Carol Sue who are the greatest betas, and keep me humble in your own perverted ways.

To Almighty God, You gave me the gift of the bards and I'm forever thankful!

Disclaimer: All publicity recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This series may include script excerpts from the TV Series 'Stargate SG-1.' This fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of said author, HailDorothy 2004 ©.

Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)

PROLOGUE

Year: 2000

"Crap! This sucks!" Daniel's voice grated as he drifted out of the ventilator shaft. Flying about the room, he gently brushed Jack's stubble jaw. O'Neill sat upright in the hard chair, swatted at the invisible pesky fly and muttered a curse.

Any other time, Daniel would have laughed. But there was nothing funny about this trip down memory lane. So much for not being able to interact with the past, Daniel just had. So what else had Oma conveniently miss-communicated?

"Daniel Jackson, the further we approach your ascension the more you sound like Jack O'Neill."

"Hey, what'd ya expect, Oma? We've covered nearly four years of their lives. I could start spouting, 'Man oh man, or holy Hannah,' if you'd like."

Oma chuckled softly, "If you choose to sound like one or the other I prefer it be your own gender."

"Fine." He sighed and settled at Sam's bedside. Looking at her peaceful pale countenance, he leaned over and kissed her warm cheek, willing her to awaken and see him.

Sam's reactive sigh was barely audible but Jack heard and scouted over, stroking her delicate boned forearm, his face contorting in emotional pain. "Hope it's a pleasant dream, Sam," he whispered hoarsely.

Seeing the agony in Jack's eyes caused Daniel to close his own and shake his head with long heartfelt regret. What he wouldn't give to undo his wrong doings and to have spared them this pain. He glanced back at Jack. More gray than brown splattered his hair since the last visit to the past. Worse, his best buddy seemed to have aged the past few days. Emotional despair stripped the light from his deep brown eyes, while physical and mental exhaustion extended the stress lines in his rugged tan features.

Yet, amid that scarring, Jack O'Neill was a man hopelessly in love with his 2IC. Daniel saw something else too. He'd seen that hell-bent resolve in Jack's face before. It now wore his irrational 'make my day' expression. In other words, Jack had made a major decision and there was no turning back. Daniel didn't like it!

His mentor rolled her transparent blue eyes. "You don't want to be here, do you?"

"Nice you noticed." Daniel snorted. "Oma, I'm the reason Sam's in this infirmary bed. The reason the Entity chose her. The reason she almost died and why the man, who's as close to being the brother I never had," he pointed at the exhausted Jack. "Hates my guts and would have killed me with his bare hands had he the opportunity," Daniel voice raised an octave or more. "So yeah, I'm really, really not happy to be here!"

Oma sighed and settled alongside him. "Daniel Jackson, you give yourself way too much credit."

"Ah, well, this isn't about my ego, Oma." He glanced back at Sam and sighed.

"Nor is this your fault. As you have seen from the past events, Samantha and Jack make their own choices. You had little bearing on the paths that brought them to this place and time."

"You know I'm pretty sick of your single minded lecture of it being no one else's fault but their own." Daniel crossed his arms and glared at her.

"I didn't say they were not influenced by you, Daniel Jackson. As conscious beings the people who cross our paths and the events that shape our lives influence us all. But in the end we alone are responsible for the path we choose. It is the Creator's way. He knew their decision before they made it. More important, He can make beauty from ashes."

"Then prove it!"

"I shall. Or should I say, Jack and Samantha will."

CHAPTER ONE

INFIRMARY: 2200 Hours:

She was asleep.

Still.

Wearily, Colonel Jack O'Neill scrubbed his calloused hands over his three-day stubble, up into his military cut and then sighed. Shifting his weight, he swung his legs over the infirmary cot, shoved off and took his preferable watch in the chair beside Carter's bed. He'd tried to sleep but couldn't. Pulling the ballpoint from his pocket, he hunched forward, elbows propped on his thighs, clicking and waiting. Waiting for his 2IC to open her baby blues and mumble, "Sir?"

Yeah.

Is that asking too fricking much? He glanced heavenward. He hoped not.

O'Neill drew another haggard sigh. Sam's chest rose and fell with each natural inhaled breath, her breaths, no longer forced by a hard plastic tube jammed down her small throat. He'd been here before, in the infirmary's secured observation room in this chair, watching Sam with hoses and wires regulating her breathing, keeping her alive. Even though the worst was over, he couldn't leave her.

Not now.

Not after all that happened.

He had to be sure she was really okay, that they were, okay.

Fraiser had reassured him that Sam was fine more than once the last few hours. She'd insisted he go home and at least try to get some sleep. Jack refused. So without a word she brought him a cot. And despite her discretion the gossiping infirmary staff had long passed on the news that Colonel Jack O'Neill was spending the night, not just on a chair, but in a bed beside his female 2IC.

Jack no longer cared what anyone thought about his unprofessional conduct toward Carter. Far as he was concerned they could all take a flying leap. For three days, he'd been above board, even to Hammond. But twelve hours ago the General's words had finalized his latest decision.

"Jack?"

"Sir?"

"We may have to make some difficult choices. I know that Major Carter means a great deal to you."

"She's a very valuable member of my team, sir." Jack maintained his poker face, but knew his eyes gave him away. Hammond read between the lines. Dang telepathic Texan!

"Yes, she is." Hammond nodded soberly and looked away, turning a blind eye.

With that Jack strode off, snapping his folder against his leg in frustration. Inside, he was hurting. Hammond knew it. What had George wanted from him? To confess he cared for Carter as more than an officer and friend?'

Care?

Heck!

Try flat out, in your face, no-holds-barred, "I'm I love with my 2IC, sir! And did I mention she's my wife?"

Hammond was no fool. Despite the vagueness of their Za´tarcy reports, including Fraiser's, Hammond knew. He'd not addressed the issue until today. That's when Jack realized how transparent he'd become regarding Carter, too transparent for anyone's good, especially hers.

Twenty-five minutes later putting God, country and earth above all else, Jack killed the woman he loved! Once again, the General seemed indifferent to what lied beneath the surface between his 2IC and the major. Meanwhile, Fraiser, Teal'c and Daniel had witnessed how close Jack had come to losing his military façade as well as his mind.

Jack rermained angry with Daniel. He didn't know how he would reconcile with his buddy. Didn't think he wanted too. He'd not even raised his voice at the linguist who'd been willing to risk Sam's life in order to communicate with an alien life form. No, he'd just stopped talking to the man who'd put the advancement of science above the life of the woman with whom Jack was in love.

In love with Sam.

That's all Jack wanted.

He didn't want to be an Air Force CO, let alone Carter's. He had wanted to kick, scream and cry when he thought he'd lost her. Unlike when she'd nearly died with Jolinar, he'd kept his heart in check, including his tears. He'd stayed strong for Sam. In control. That's what Carter would have wanted. That's what Carter got. For twenty-hours Jack kept vigil by her bedside. Janet had said Sam was officially brainstem dead. The only thing keeping her alive was the ventilator. Jack kept his tired eyes on Sam, praying. He believed in God. Believed there was a benevolent supreme Creator, whom beside Jack and the SGC cared whether Samantha Jean Carter lived or died.

Yeah.

On the other side of Sam's vitals monitor or whatever they called it, a tearfully Janet Fraiser had informed Jack that Sam had made a living will. No extraordinary means—no intervention—no heroic measures-nada-nothing—that's what she wanted.

Jack knew that. He knew more than anyone else about his 2IC, about this brainy passionate woman. Just because they'd agreed to leave it in the room, didn't mean they stopped loving each other. It had meant, that here at SGC and off world it was business as usual. It meant stolen intimate smiles and him saying, "I know," or their joint pat line, "Forever okay."

It had taken both Jack and Teal'c nearly turning into Popsicles on that run-a-way Goa'uld death glider to make him realize and then to confront Sam with what they'd buried for too long, but jointly decided that for now the Stargate project and mankind came first. No one, except Daniel and Teal'c knew about their private vows taken on Chulak a few days later. Vows that united them as husband and wife, forever.

As Sam's best friend and physician Janet knew more than Jack liked. Sure, he loved Janet as a friend. And medically there was no else he wanted jamming needles into him. Not that he'd ever admit it to the doc. No way! The power-hungry-blood sucking-shortstop was smug enough.

But Jack's less than tactful private nature had issues with Janet's intimate knowledge of him and Sam. It had become a sore spot between them since the stupid lie detector incident. Mainly because it had confirmed what the observant doctor had long suspected. Jack and Sam were in love with each other. It wasn't that Janet disapproved, more importantly it was against military regulations. Like Sam and him, Janet was a by-the-book Air Force officer and he respected that.

Regardless, as Sam's physician Janet knew Jack was executor of Sam's will. So did Hammond. That was expected. With Jacob working with the Tok´ra and her relationship with her brother Mark still on shaky ground, Jack was listed as closet kin, which on another world he was. Sam had informed Janet that if any type of critical situation occurred, even nonmilitary related, Jack was the sole decision maker of when to let her go. But then, when it happened, Jack hated Sam for putting him in that position. Hadn't she realized he would fight it? Now he knew that's what she'd counted on. If anyone would look for options to keep her alive, it would be the man who loved her, the man whom she loved, the man she respected and who had earned her trust and devotion.

He re-called the earlier events. After Jack threatened to send the probes to destroy the Entity's world, it released Carter sending her into the mainframe, she was alive, but that didn't rid Jack of the guilt and shame. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw that alien daring him to fire at Sam. He'd shot once with the zat to stun her, but the Entity hadn't been phased by the blast. Two shots killed. Jack hesitated. Knowing Sam would have done the same for humanity, Jack fired the final blast. The instant Sam's lifeless form crumbled to the floor, Jack died too. He'd been so dazed by his action, he'd not even run to her, just stood there until Janet arrived.

First he'd killed Sam and twenty hours later, he had been within seconds of shutting down the equipment keeping her body alive with her essence locked in the freaking mainframe. He couldn't do this anymore. Too much was at jeopardy. Because he was in love with Carter, they had become a high risk factor for the SGC. Hammond knew it, as did anyone else who had a marble for a brain to play with.

Daniel had tried to reassure him that the Entity knew Jack would have done the same whether it been him or Teal'c. But Jack knew in his gut the alien had bet on Sam. Bet on him. None of that mattered now. Jack had put his resignation on Hammond's desk. In less than two hours, he would no longer be a member of the USAF. He would once again become plain old Jack O'Neill, with two LL's, retired USAF Colonel.

"Daniel?" Sam called out in a raspy frightened voice.

Jack's brow tightened as he glanced about. Nope. No Daniel. Jack launched from his chair and came alongside her. "Hey, Carter." He smiled down at her ashen face and brushed a blonde curl off her pasty forehead.

"Sir." She blinked and focused on him.

"Yeah."

"Water?"

Jack poured a glass, inserting the straw and then braced his arm under her shoulder raising her slightly as she sucked down most of the H2O. "Easy there." He instinctively retracted the straw from her parched lips.

Nodding, she dropped back onto the bed, licked her parched lips and closed her eyes.

"Hey, you okay, Carter?" Jack shoved his nervous hands into his pockets and winced. He wanted to touch her again, to hold her. Instead he waited for what, he had no idea.

Her soft lashes fluttered and pale lids opened. Sam stared up at him, then tilted her head on the pillow and with her intimate look wordlessly spoke to him.

"I know." He gave his classic 'charm the ass off you' smirk while his thumb grazed her pale right cheek. His hand shook. Get a grip, old man.

"I . . . I wanna go home."

"Doc insists on the pleasure of your company for the night." He remembered the camera and lowered his hand, tapping the mattress.

Blue eyes watering, Sam reached and clutched his hand. "Please, sir, I want to go now!"

"Anything for you, Dorothy. Kansas here we come!"

Jack intercepted Janet heading for the elevator and her own bed. Sweeping her card, she wearily shook her head. "Sorry, Colonel, she needs rest."

"She can do that best at home." He argued in his harsh tone.

"I don't know, sir. As her physician, I— "

"As her doctor you're the only one who can release her, but as her friend what else can you do?''

"But you said she sounds scared. She shouldn't be alone."

"I'll stay with her."

"Umm, you're sure that's wise, Colonel?" Janet gave him the look.

"Don't go there, Doc!" He raised his hand, his temper about to short circuit. "Last I checked I'm still her CO who's not forgetting that important point that you mention a lot."

Her hands shoved in her lab coat pockets, Janet met his indignant glint. "Colonel, I'm not making any point you haven't already thought about. It's just . . ."

Jack rubbed a hand over his face and growled his frustration.

The elevator opened and Janet backed inside and pressed the hold button. "Alright, you can take her home. But if she starts acting strange."

"Strange? What constitutes strange after you've been host to a body snatcher?"

"Look, sir, I'm still Sam's physician and I love her like my sister. Just take care of her."

Jack offered up a peacemaking smile. "Sorry, Fraiser, it's been a rough ride for everyone. You know I'll watch after her and if she does anything strange for Carter, I'll call."

Not surprising, Sam insisted walking on her own to his truck. Jack however kept his hand on the small of her back, especially as she had the tendency to wobble. She allowed him to assist her into the high cab, but when he reached for the seat belt she slapped his hand.

"I'm tired, sir, not helpless."

"Sorry." He shrugged. Patting the truck's hood Jack hurried to the driver's side and leaped in, snapping his belt in place. After he turned the ignition he opened the sky roof, knowing she enjoyed stargazing. As if on cue, Sam dropped her head against the headrest and stared at the clear star-lit night sky. She smiled.

"Beautiful." He meant Sam, but tilted his head toward the heavens.

She said nothing. Let her be, Jack. Maybe she'll fall asleep on the drive home. She did.

Twenty minutes later, he parked in front of her house without waking her. He stared at her while deciding his next maneuver. Jack sprinted to her house door unlocked it with his key and then ran back. Sam was still asleep. That's exactly what he planned to do once he got her inside. Amazing now that his adrenaline level had crashed he could hardly keep his eyes open.

"Hey, Dorothy, we're home." He nudged her. She didn't budge. "Okay, well, just for the record. I tried to wake ya, so no kicking or biting the Colonel." He lifted the independent woman and carried her up the long walk through the swinging black gate, onto the porch and inside. Man, he didn't recall Carter being this heavy. Nah, more like he was just that exhausted.

Flipping the light switch on with his shoulder, an art in its self, Jack locked the door and hauled Sam down the hallway to her bedroom. Once inside, he laid her limp body on her bed and switched on the bedside table lamp.

Jack dragged a hand through his hair and glanced down at the slumbering beauty. Sleeping beauty. One kiss will awaken her. She was here and alive! He swallowed the lump in his throat as his bottled tears crashed through the dam. Now alone with her, he let them fall. Man it felt good. Felt right. He'd not cried since Charlie's death and even then not with Sara. Almost two years after his son's death he'd cried all right, but in Sam's arms. Like then, this was different. This was the woman who not only allowed, but encouraged him to be vulnerable. This was Carter.

Jack slipped off her jacket, shoes and black socks. She hated sleeping with socks. No way would he further undress her. Nope, didn't need that temptation. The last few months had been sexually frustrating, but they'd found ways to cope. He grinned. Had they ever. Who'd have thought Walkie-talkies could be so useful.

Still, they'd made a vow not to physically make love until regulations were no longer an issue. A decision made out of respect for each other and their careers. Feelings were one thing, succumbing to them could change everything. It had also made it easier to maintain their professional relationship. No guilt trip when Jack had to ream-out his 2IC or visa versa, nor as much sexual attraction distraction. Well that had yet to be voted on. When it came to thinking about Carter and sex, Jack had a one-track mind. So far, he had devised a hundred and twenty-eight ways to seduce Carter. Hey, a guy had to do something on those cold lonely nights, in bed, alone. Was it getting hot in here? Did crying and sex go together? They did now.

Sam.

Sex.

Sam. So hard to separate those two words, but he managed to juggle them. Had too. Some might assume the no physical intimacy mandate had been Sam's alone. Fine. He and Sam knew differently. Jack was a man of honor and shacking up with his 2IC was not part of his military ethic's code. He'd seen such unions destroy too many lives in the military. Following through on those desires could ruin what he and Sam held for each other and themselves. He didn't want Sam for a brief roll in the hay, he wanted this woman forever and if it meant waiting, so be it. The fact she felt as strongly about the matter made their wannabe lovers affair work.

Staring down at her Jack still questioned what this beautiful, bright and feisty woman saw in him. Jack knew his defects better than anyone. The list was mind-boggling. First he was Irish, which meant for the most part he was a stubborn ass and could be down right short sighted. Tactless, his mouth tended to work ahead of his brain . . .a lot. Not to mention the loud and brash part. Heck, he wasn't even going to get into his sun-weathered face that had more crossed lines than a road map. And his freaking bed head hair had the audacity to submit to the O'Neill's premature gray genes, well could it get any better?

Oh, yeah, sure, yabetcha.

Jack wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but there again he wasn't the rustiest nail either. He was always twisting words and their meanings, not to mention mispronouncing anything with more than three syllables. Of course, Carter knew he was not the bumbling idiot he portrayed. First off, she already knew he was a computer software wiz, a hacker to be precise. Hey, he didn't make Colonel on his smart lip. And she'd nearly freaked out the day they'd been painting his kitchen with Daniel and Teal'c. Rummaging through his basement for an extra pair of brushes she found some of his boxed-up reading material, including the Writings of Dostovesky and Isben, and The Theory of Relativity by Albert Einstein, amide a stack of other impressive works. Yeah, Jack liked messing with her head. It gave him an extra kick out of life.

Swiping a tear off his jaw he pulled back the covers to roll Sam beneath them. He'd just about succeeded when she reached out and clenched his forearm, setting him off balance. Jack sprawled awkwardly beside her, one knee on the bed the other on the floor. Darn aching knees.

"Carter?" He tried to stand up, but her strong grip restrained him. "Hey, go back to sleep, that's an order. I'll be on the sofa."

"Please, sir. Hold me?" she asked with a muzzy but auditable voice.

"Well then, sure." Who was he to argue? Holding he could do. Holding was what he did best with Carter. Jack scooted over onto the bed and drew her into his chest, then dipped his head so he could see her pretty pale face. He focused on the small mole beneath her left eye and how much he wanted to kiss it.

To kiss her.

Wow, had it actually been over two months since their last kiss?

Yep.

Sam's lashes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her dusty brown brows furrowed. He saw the confusion there and thought to see the blackness of the Entity in her clouded eyes. As soon as she smiled her pupils shown with the true blue in the soft lamp's light. Jack snuffed a breath in relief, but not before a tear escaped. Dang, he'd not wanted her to see that. Not now! Sam reached up and captured the evidence of his heart and brought it to her lips. He shuddered at her intimate gesture.

The oneness they shared was beyond any act of physical lovemaking. Maybe, it was the risky nature of their chosen professions, coming face to face with death so often together. How could two people whom never did more than steal a kiss or caress, be bonded so exclusively, so intimately? He no longer questioned the how or why, Jack only knew he and Sam were eternally blessed. He pitied all lovers past, present and forget the future she was all his now, and he was hers.

Jack snatched her fingers, brought them to his mouth brushing his lips against them and then closing his eyes, while he inhaled the sweet fragrance that was Samantha Carter.

"I was shouting for you to hear," she repeated hoarsely what she'd said after being revived by Fraiser.

"I know, Babe, we heard you." He assumed she needed to hear it again as he smoothed back her fine hair and pulled her closer. Drowning in all that was Sam. Vanilla, strawberries and a hint of cinnamon.

Her arms constricted around his waist. "No." She shook her head against him.

"No? Whatcha mean?" He tilted his head so he could see her face.

She cleared her throat. "Daniel saw me on the monitor, but it was you I was shouting at when the Entity was still inside of me."

'Oh,' he mouthed and craned his neck, uncertain what she meant.

"When it was within, the Entity let me show myself to you. Didn't you see me, hear me calling you?"

Jack drew a pointed breath. Yeah, he'd wanted to tell that to Hammond and his team during the briefing. Instead, he'd said the Entity was just tricking them. Now with Sam he could be honest. "I saw you, Sam. Do you recall the conversation I had with the Entity?"

She nodded and he felt her heart banging against his own.

"It said, 'I am within. You are O'Neill.'"

"And I answered, 'Yeah, we've established that.'"

"'This One has memory of you,'" Sam said roughly.

"'The One you're talking about is a person. Her name is Major Samantha Carter.'"

"'Then I am major.'"

"'No. No you're not!'"

Sam glanced up at his taut features. "You were so mad."

"Ya think?" He tried to smile, but couldn't, the memory too fresh. He shut his eyes.

"Janet said something about the Entity having control of me. That it wasn't me."

"Yes." Jack's eyes opened, his brows clashed. "Wow, I'm impressed, Carter. You heard all that?"

"Yes! The Entity said it had no other choice. No other place to go. It realized you wished to terminate it."

"I wanted to kill that freakin' thing for taking you from me. Said something like, 'still do.'"

"'But you will not. Not now. I have observed. You value the life of One.'"

This was way too weird. Jack shuddered and glanced down fearing she was not Sam. "'Yes, we do.' A team thing ya know."

"Sure do." She smiled like Sam.

"Sam, I wanted to say, yes I do, but Hammond was in the observation booth and Fraiser beside me." He needed to make it clear. There was so much he needed to clear up between them.

"Jack," she sighed lovingly. "I know military protocol. With us it's what we don't say that matters."

"Oh. Huh. Sure." He kissed the crown of her blonde head. "Sorry."

"And the Entity said, 'this One is important.'"

Jack uttered the words he'd never forget, "'She is.'" He looked into her moist eyes. "You are the most important person in the world to me, Sam."

"I know." She nuzzled him again. "'For this reason, this One was chosen. You will not terminate this One in order to destroy me.'" Sam sniffled. "And that's when it let me see you, Jack. I saw your dark eyes, your heartache. I saw your fear, the fear that you had lost me; you could barely hold back your tears. I started to cry. It used me to manipulate you."

"Dear God!" Jack embraced her, kissing her softly against her neck. "That's when your eyes watered. I'd prayed it was you I was seeing, but Janet insisted you weren't there anymore. She later insisted that what I saw was the result of physical stress the alien was putting on your body."

"No, I was there, Jack. Screaming for you. The Entity knew it. Knew you alone would sense me being alive. That's why it chose me. It had not only watched us interact it told me, it could comprehend body language and emotions. It knew we were married. It said you and I were bonded as one being. That's when it began to fear you, because it had underestimated the power of human love. Our love. It did exactly what we'd have done under the circumstances it was just trying to survive."

"Sam?"

She shook her head. "Then when Daniel got it to explain its intention to destroy earth, you heatedly interrupted that you would send more probes. It didn't want to believe you'd do that for one life. But I told it, you wouldn't let it keep my body, that you would send the probes to its home world. The Entity realized it had no choice but to release me and die to preserve its own kind." She began crying. "It also died to save me, Jack!"

"Ssh, Ssh, that's alright. Guess it wasn't so different from us after all." He caressed her trembling back. "Sam, when Janet brought you back and you were looking at me, it killed me, coz I couldn't hold you. I was forced to stand there like an idiot tapping the mattress, dying to touch your hand, any touch to assure me you were back." He felt so open and emotionally stripped, more than he'd been with anyone before. Caught in this moment with Sam, Jack let her see what no one else had, a basic guy broken, humbled, hurting and in love with his wife.

"I'm sorry. I knew you wanted to hold me. I wanted that too. I almost screamed for everyone to get out and leave me alone with my husband."

"Hey, we could have had Doc write it off as delirium."

"Funny." She sighed with a snort.

"Yes. Well, I thought so." His joshing crashed and burned.

"That's why I needed to come home with you." She clung tighter.

"You're home, Dorothy. We're together. From here on it'll be better, because things are going to change. Swear it!" He glanced at the clock. Two minutes ago everything had changed, but he'd wait to tell her later. He could do that. He could wait until morning, sure he could.

Sam sighed against his tear soaked black t-shirt. "Thank you.''

"For what?"

"For not letting me go."

"Hey, it was nothing. Nothing's what I do best."

"Don't make fun of this, Jack."

"Alright." He surrendered and shut his tired eyes. "It was everything. Better?"

"Much." He heard the smile in her voice and then, "I know Janet and the others wanted you to let me go. You said, 'Just give it a minute''

Jack's eyes snapped open and then he stared down at her. "You weren't there. How'd you?"

"I saw and heard everything." She kissed the small cleft of his bristled jaw.

"Duh!" He flushed, recalling his private vigil by her bedside when the ventilators were his only audience. "Umm everything?"

"Yep, every sweet passionate promise, flyboy, including the four point two Carter-O'Neill's, preferably blue-eyed blond-haired girls."

"Then you're okay with four kids instead of the six-pack I wanted when we first met?"

Sam snorted and rolled her baby blues.

"Hey, work with me here, Carter," he whined.

"Three point two."

"Deal. So this mean you're going to hold it against me?"

Sam snuggled closer. "Oh, I plan to hold everything I can against you, Colonel."

"Then we got a problem." Yep, he felt the pleasurable southbound heat.

"Whaat?" She stretched, insuring they had total body contact when she tossed a leg over his hips, entrapping him.

Jack tried to ease from her locked hold but his squirming made it worse. A lot worse!

Sam giggled.

"No giggling. So not fair, Carter," his voice cracked.

Whoa, John-John!

"I mean our agreement. Hugs only, Major." He couldn't believe he was using his former formal copout when it no longer applied and he could make Sam his own. His wife. Here. Now. He was either too freaking pooped or having seconds thoughts about the resignation part. So which is it, O'Neill?

"Yummy." Sam sighed, flicking her tongue to the pulsing artery of his muscle strained neck and then nibbling with her teeth.

"Geez!" Jack decided he wasn't too tired and retirement looked better and better. She slid her hot hand across his tensed buttocks and gripped his belt buckle, urging him closer. Yikes! So not Carter! Should he call Janet now or later?

"Umm, we're not concerned with regs right now, lover."

"We're not?" Sweet! Jack swallowed as his libido took the helm. Wow, Dorothy!

Jack was turned on.

Then he wasn't.

Sam was snoring.

CHAPTER TWO

Jack slipped his Luciano Pavarotti CD into Sam's bedside player and set the volume on low. Drawing Sam's pliable feminine curves against him, he brushed the hair from her face and smiled down at her, loving her. The slow sensuous duet of Celine Dione and Pavarotti's song, 'I Hate You Then I Love You' fit their unique love affair. Yeah, there were many times Sam hated Jack. And no doubt later this morning would be one of them. Jack only hoped that no matter whatever he did, she'd never want to be in love with anyone but him.

Soon as the song started Jack closed his eyes and sang along softly, "I'd like to run away from you But if I were to leave you I would die I'd like to break the chains you put around me And yet I'll never try

"No matter what you do you drive me crazy I'd rather be alone But then I know my life would be so empty As soon as you were gone

"Impossible to live with you But I could never live without you, For whatever you do / For whatever you do I never, never, never Want to be in love with anyone but you

"You make me sad You make me strong You make me mad You make me long for you / You make long for you

"You make me live You make me die You make me laugh You make me cry for you / You make me cry for you

"I hate you Then I love you Then I love you Then I hate you Then I love you love more For whatever you do I never, never, never want to be with anyone but you

"You treat me wrong You treat me right You let me be You make me fight with you /I could never live without you

"You make me high You bring me down You set me free You hold me bound to you I hate you Then I love you Then I love you Then I hate you Then I love you more For whatever you do / For whatever you do

I never, never, never want to be in love with anyone but you I never, never, never want to be in love with anyone but you . . .

"I love you, Sam."

'When I work up this morning, you were on my mind . . .'

Somewhere in the throes of making wild passionate love with Sam, an all-nighter, the phone rang. Jack cursed incoherently and realized their lovemaking was a Looney Tunes dream, but not the shrill of the bedside phone.

"Dang!"

Catching it on the third ring, he answered, "Yeah, cool your jets," hit the hold button, and then cautiously unraveled himself from Sam's warm, clothed body and left her bedroom. In his black t-shirt and Bugs Bunny boxers, he rubbed the crust from his eyes and squinted at the illuminated ID number, that read private caller. He staggered around the house and into the kitchen when he opened a shade to let in the sunshine, and then remembered the phone in his hand.

As he released the mute button Jack thought, so help me, if this is a freaking telemarketer. "What!" He scratched his six-pack realizing he had to pee.

"Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond's voice rumbled on the other end.

"General?" 'Whoops!' Jack had just answered Sam's phone at, he squinted at the kitchen's clock, 0647 hours Saturday morning. Just peachy!

"Dr. Fraiser left me a message that you're taking care of our Major. How's she fairing, son?"

Jack made a beeline for the bathroom. "Fine, sir. Still splitting logs." Yawning, he shut the door, not wanting Sam to catch him in the act. When he passed the vanity mirror he grimaced at his heavy beard and hoped she still had one of his razors. Last time he used her fancy pink razor, he'd butchered his face. Jack tried to hand comb his graying bed-head. He opened the linen closet pleased to find his toothbrush, deodorant, and razor all neatly stacked besides a set of his clothes. Man, he loved that woman.

"Colonel, you there?" Hammond shouted.

"Um, yes, sir." Jack lifted the toilet lid and seat, his sleepy senses invaded by a fragrant, blue, toilet bowl sanitizer. He envisioned whizzing into the event horizon. Could be fun. Might try it one day.

"Good, Jack. Let the Major rest." Hammond's voice shifted from mild mannered to furious. "Meanwhile get to my office now!"

"Sir?"

"I just found your resignation on my desk! If this is a joke, I'm not laughing."

"Sir, can I call you back?" He never could urinate and talk at the same time.

"No! Get your sorry Irish ass in here ASAP or I'm coming there."

"Ah, rather you didn't, General." He really had to go. Concentrate, Jack.

"Didn't think you would. Be here within the hour!"

"Can't order me anymore, George, and I really have to go now," he emphasized.

"Don't make me hurt you, Jack!" 'Hey, when did Hammond start talking like me?'

"Fine! I'll be there." Jack hung up and sighed with relief as his emptied his bladder.

Sixty minutes later, Jack stood habitually at attention in tan Dockers, a loose, hunter green short-sleeved shirt, and loafers before 'the man' George Hammond who also wore civvies, which meant one of his many loud colored shirts. Considering what he'd been called here to discuss, their casual attire made the situation bizarre. Jack had no desire to talk. Besides the General knew his reason for resigning.

"At ease, Jack. Have a seat." He indicated a chair and poured two cups of steaming black coffee, setting one in front of Jack.

"Rather stand, George." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocked on his heels and donned his ironed expression, hiding his tired eyes behind dark shades.

"So it's George, now?" He took a swig of coffee and glanced up at Jack.

"Yep. Thought we could just cut the baloney?" He made an impolite gesture.

"The only baloney I see is this." George shook Jack's resignation letter at him.

"You're so not going to make this easy are you?" Jack scratched his jaw, realizing he'd missed a few whiskers.

"No, Jack, I'm not." The broad shouldered Texan settled back in his chair and tented his hands beneath his double chin. "Our conversation is strictly off record, son." He indicated the security cameras were off, including the briefing room.

"Whatever." Jack removed his shades, squinted, and then rubbed his eyes with his knuckles before looking back at his former CO.

"I won't accept your resignation."

"Fine." Jack shrugged. "AWOL, Court-martial. Knock yourself out!" He shifted indicating the door. "Going now. Need to buy groceries. Going to whip up a western omelet for Carter."

"You're walking a fine line, Colonel."

"Well thank you, George." Jack swept a bow.

Hammond shook his head when Jack grasped the door's handle and turned it.

Still, Jack preferred to part as friends. "Nice chat, George. Look we'll do lunch. Really. Adios Amigo."

"Does Major Carter know about your decision?"

"Nope. Going to tell her now. With all do respect." He engaged a sloppy salute and was halfway out the door.

"Don't you think it would have been wise to discuss it with her first?"

"No." He didn't like Hammond's underhanded tactic and glared over his shoulder.

"Because she'd have talked you out of it. In fact, knowing Samantha Carter, she'd be pretty pissed off about now."

Yep. Exacta. Jack flinched but kept walking. "So not your business, George." He ventured back and entered Hammond's secretary's office.

Hammond barked after him, "After all the times I've kept your pitiful ass from being court-martial I think it is my business. For starters, I'm calling the last four and half years of markers due right now!"

"Oy!" Jack did an about-face, slammed the door, turned and then thumped his forehead head against it. Twice. He groaned and then confronting his blackmailing former CO, muttered, "Just how many markers we talkin' here."

George slapped eight inches worth of O'Neill's files on his desk. "Last count seventeen, Colonel." Hammond smirked back, knowing he had Jack by the short hairs, as Jack had so fondly stated too many times before.

"Nah! Can't be? Seventeen? Really?" Jack started counting off the chain of events on his hands and ran out of fingers. "Wow! Seventeen? Wow!"

"Not including when you knocked Siler over the stairwell resulting in a broken arm and a concussion while you were on a power trip wearing that Tok'ra armband."

"Hey, I swear," Jack held up his hands. "That was an accident! Tok'ra influence and that Aneesse Anineeze whatever—never did trust her or her screwed-up alien technology. Geez, why doesn't anyone believe me? And hey, I sent Siler flowers!" His tense gaze rested on the hole in Hammond's office wall that Jack's enthusiastic foot had also made that day. Guess he should fix it? Yeah.

"And the brawl at O'Malley's that involved your team?"

"A ah!" Jack waved his pointers. "Again under the influence. Besides that slime ball insulted Carter and then Daniel."

"You made the call to go there, Jack, you also took the first swing."

"Not! I tossed him on his sorry butt. Hey, you said you weren't going to hold any of that against me or my team."

"That does not mean I didn't add it to the O'Neill IOU's."

"Oh. Yes. Right. Good point." His mouth thinned out. "Seventeen? Crap." He scuffed the toe of one shoe across the floor and sighed. "Hell, just shoot me, sir?"

"That would be too easy. Jack, despite this less than stellar track record, you are the best 2IC I've ever had the honor to serve with. Your dedication to your team is exemplary. Not to mention your determination to eliminate the Goa'uld threat to our planet and galaxy. And it's the very reason I give you latitude I don't extend anyone else. Or why I put up with you smart mouth, less than professional antics, not to mention unorthodox methods or desire to blow everything up in sight."

"And I appreciate that, sir, really I do. But oh, c'mon, George, what about the incident with Kinsey and the NID? I helped you out, right? You haven't forgotten that have ya?"

"I know you did, son. And I'll be forever grateful, so that's why I deducted seven from the pile, but come on, Jack, do you think I'm going to let you go so easily? Well?"

Jack scowled, muttered a curse, followed by, "Sorry, sir."

"Jack! Quit with the politically correct politeness. This is me you're talking too." George shot to his feet and slammed his closed fist against his Jack's folder, decreasing its wad a good inch.

Jack flinched glad it wasn't his jaw Hammond had slammed.

"As your CO and friend, I deserve an explanation for your lamebrain decision to leave a position I know you love more than anything you've ever done in the military. Heck, if it weren't for your superior command capabilities and the death defying risks you've taken, we'd all be snakeheads by now."

Jack gaped at the exploding Texan. He'd been on the receiving end of Hammond's wrath before. This was different. Downright uncomfortable being complimented and cursed out in one breathe.

"Sir, with all due respect, it's apparent why I'm resigning. I can no longer separate my personal life from the SGC or what's best for SG-1. It's become a high risk factor. A conflict of interest, heck of the heart." Heat warmed his face.

George walked around his desk and stood face-to-face with Jack. "Son, this isn't the first resignation you've handed me and no doubt for the same reason. Just didn't expect it to be the last. I sense you mean it this time."

"Damn straight I do, George." Jack rubbed his sore eyes and slumped, not in defeat but in acceptance of his decision. He just wanted to go home to Sam, his Sam.

Hammond scratched the back of his scalp and nodded. "I'm aware of what's going on between you and Carter, Jack. Truthfully, I saw the sparks between you two the first day you met. So let's come clean, shall we. You and the Major have history."

"Ya think after nearly five years." He snorted.

"Nearly eight to be exact," Hammond inserted.

"Sir!" Jack gaped.

"Two years ten months before the first Abydos mission, you were both Black Ops operatives working with the CIA."

"Duh!" Jack tracked his hand through his tufted hair. "Anything else you wanna share, George, coz I'm kinda dying to hear the juicy details."

The Texan snorted. "Don't play stupid with me. I realize you only knew each other as undercover operatives."

"Oh, yeah, 007 charades. I was Bond, James Bond, Carter was . . ."

"Shimmer," Hammond tossed back. "South America and I believe your operative name was Striker."

"Sir, how'd you?" Jack felt like he'd been caught with his pants down.

"Got my sources."

"Of course." Could this get any worse? "Look, it was strictly professional between us. I was married."

"That's not under inquiry."

"Good. Now if you don't mind I've got — "

"You two later met at the 1997 White House Halloween Ball and according to upper management, spent the majority of the evening together, closed the place down the place. Heard you play a mean, Blue Suede Shoes on base guitar."

Double crap!

Bile burned Jack's throat. "Did I mention masked ball, as in upper face covered?" He made a raccoon face with his fingers. Well, at least he'd worn a mask. Zorro! And Sam had braids too, how was he to know at first?

"Exactly five days before Major Carter's initial briefing here at the SGC." Hammond's brows disappeared into his scalp.

Jack nodded numbly. Gonna puke. His stomach rumbled. He spotted the wastebasket. "Was still officially retired, sir," he rasped a dry cough.

Hammond nodded. "And you didn't just dance with her, son, you k — "

"Kissed the girl." The Little Mermaid song popped into his head as he dove for the basket and gagged, but came up empty. He'd not eaten in two freaking days. He hated dry heaves.

"Have a seat, Jack." Hammond seemed to take pity on him.

Jack held the basket between his splayed knees, wondering if he looked as green as his shirt.

"I don't think vomit qualifies as recycled paper, son." George motioned to the blue basket and had the audacity to chuckle.

"Funny." He sneered at the 'Recycling Only' label and gagged again.

An edgy silence fell between them while Jack regained control of his bodily functions and got more pissed. "For starters, I was retired as in not in the Air Force, not an officer. So officially we weren't doing anything wrong! Were we?"

"Already established that," George answered calmly.

"Well there's that." He nodded, still brooding at the seventeen counts of insubordination.

"Whatever happened then doesn't matter." Hammond referred to the Halloween Ball.

His defense mode in full gear, Jack was deaf to his CO's dismissal of the issue. "And secondly, I'm the one who pursued Carter. I kissed her." Jack sighed, recapturing their passionate hands all over each other kiss, kisses. He rubbed the back of his neck trying to recall just how many times they'd kissed and groped. Oh, lots and lots and God willing a whole lot more. Vegas and wedding bells! If only this stubborn mule would let him retire with some dignity.

"Jack, you don't have to defend yourself or the Major. Neither of you broke any regulations."

"I knew that. So why the flipping fifth degree?"

"No fifth degree. Just trying to confirm what I've always know."

Jack mouthed an, Oh and nodded. He was out of control of this situation. He hated not being in charge. Hated Hammond holding this over him. Did he mention hated?

"Although it's not unusual for operatives to become familiar and bond, it is my understanding that due to the high security risk of your assignments it called for you and the Major to remain incognito. Neither of you ever saw each other's faces or exchanged military ID's."

"Correct." Jack nodded.

"You were and still are one of the best undercover operatives this nation's has, Jack. All together ten years of classified assignments. Carter on the other hand, despite her 100 hours of flying Iraq air space was a green envoy being field-tested. Sources tell me you engaged contact with her at least nine times over a period of fourteen months some encounters less than two minutes although the reports indicated you two were captured once. Another said she saved your butt twice. Seems she's got one up on you, Colonel." Seemed George took pleasure in that fact.

"Nah." Jack leaned over to glance at the report Hammond was scanning. However, reading upside didn't set well with his stomach. "It was an even tie. I saved Carter's butt first and she saved mine the second round."

"Not according to the Major's report."

"Why the little fibber!" Jack suppressed a grin.

"Are you saying Major Carter lied?"

"No! Never!" Jack dropped back in his chair. "Just a matter of perspective. Mine's right of course."

"Certainly." George chuckled. "So how did you determine three years later the woman at the ball was one and the same?"

"Sir?" Jack's jaw collided with his chest.

"Jack."

"Oh, her voice, sir." Jack was still chewing on Sam's report. No way she saved me twice, why just because I'd been knocked out—

"You recognized her voice?"

"Yeah, great ears." He tugged them.

"Huh." George mumbled and then smiled. "Did she recognize you at the ball?"

"Still off record, George?" Jack dropped the basket at his feet and grabbed one of Hammond's pens to occupy his antsy hands.

"Whatever you say stays here, Jack, you have my word on it." Hammond shook his head.

"No, she didn't know it was me, exactly. When I was an operative, I had a blond mullet hair cut and beard. So it wasn't until I called her out to her." Well so there was another lie. Carter knew precisely whom she was kissing.

"Not exactly national security protocol, considering the high security assignments you'd shared."

"No sir. Could we blame it on the Basanovas?"

Hammond looked confused.

"Ya know the song about the dance – okay, too much champagne?"

Hammond snorted.

"Point is, after I kinda kissed her ya know what I mean, and called her code name, well she decked me."

"That's my Major!" George beamed like a proud godfather.

"Yeah." Jack grimaced with the memory of the bruised jaw he got, not to mention the sore instep and worse, the hurt pride.

"Now I see why you wouldn't be so apt to write that book, I suggested." George grinned.

Jack drew a blank then recalled his first meeting with Hammond when he'd been called in as a consultant for the Stargate. Consultant my eye! Hammond had tried to make small talk with the then retired Jack, asking if he'd ever thought to write a book about his exploits in the line of duty.

'Jack had replied, "Thought about it. But then, I'd have to shot anyone who actually read it."

Hammond just stared.

"That was a joke, sir. Most of my work for the past ten years has been classified."'

"And then," Hammond's present serious tone gave Jack a reality check.

"Oh, I kissed her again." Jack shrugged as a smile crept across his face.

Hammond rolled his eyes.

"But!" Another finger waggled. "Had I known you'd be hauling me out of retirement or assigning her to me, I'd never have done either. Gee, George, it's not like we planned it."

"And just when did you know who your 2IC was?"

"With all due respect, sir, that's one dumb question even from you. Had my new CO cared to share that important side note sooner, things might have gone down differently."

"Yes. You wouldn't have gone active or accepted the Abydos mission."

"Nope."

"So? When?" George persisted.

"The moment, I heard her outside the briefing room say, 'She is transferring from the Pentagon.'"

"And you should have seen your face." George chuckled. The Texan was enjoying himself at Jack's expense.

"Yes well." He scratched his head. "Not only was Sam a woman, she was the woman with a capital T, if you get my drift."

"I do, son. And when did she realize that Colonel O'Neill and Striker were the same man?"

"Oh at the ball. We talked it all out. Had no reason not to be honest about how we felt or how much we wanted to make out . . . Hey, this carpet needs a serious shampoo!"

Hammond cleared his throat. The general obviously didn't care about his dirty carpet.

Red-faced, Jack glanced up at the grinning Texan and turned defensive. "Then when you intentionally failed to tell Carter that I was her CO and we made eye contact at the briefing." Jack blushed. "We faked our way through it. Apparently before she entered the briefing, Samuels informed her I was her CO. Actually she was pretty sore at me."

"No doubt."

"By then it was too late."

"Was it? I don't recall either of you flying in here afterward declaring a conflict of interests, which there undoubtedly appeared to have been regarding fraternization."

"Yes sir, I mean no, sir." Dang sirs! "Beside we had clearance to go to Abydos and might I remind you it was a matter of international security, save the world from the evil dark Vader impersonator, Apophis?"

George waved him off. "I'm quite aware of the emergency threat and that you had only twenty-four hours to complete your mission."

"It warms the cockles of heart to know you were aware, sir. And seeing as you do remember the fact we had to save the earth, how about we knock those seven I.O.U.'s down to one?"

Hammond winced at Jack's sarcasm, but added, "How about I double the original seventeen to thirty-four instead?"

"Point taken, George." Jack resigned indignantly, while Hammond laughed behind his stoic features.

"Carter feared I would scratch the mission because of our previous indiscretion. I assured her far as I was concerned it was over and done with and as you'd noted, I'd been retired. There was no reason we couldn't be professional officers and that's exactly what we were. Still are. The then Captain Carter was above board, sir."

"For how long?"

"A long, long, long time." Jack stretched out his arms. "Right into Colonel-hood including last night and this morning." But hopefully not tonight!

"I see. So at what point did your feelings for Carter change and I'm not talking physical attraction?"

"Sir, we've long established that Sam and I have an ongoing relationship of the heart and one day I hope the missing body parts becomes a part of it. So in all fairness is this questioning necessary?"

"Damn straight it is! If you want out of this Air Force so badly, you have to give me evidence to substantiate it."

"Oh, for crying out loud, yes!"

"Yes what?"

"I had fallen for her before the Abydos mission. A happy camper are we, George?"

"My happiness has nothing to do with this, Jack. And did Major Carter feel the same way before Abydos?"

"I can't speak for the Major, sir. But I assume her feelings were mutual."

"So what about all the guff you gave the Captain, err Major about not liking scientists and not wanting her under your command, even after the mission was a success?"

"All true. Bad enough I had to deal with Daniel. Also figured if I got Ms. Theoretical Astrophysicist mad enough she'd ask to be reassigned. Heck, I couldn't pursue her as my 2IC could I?"

"Finally we're getting somewhere." The hint of a smile touched Hammond's lips.

"But when I realized how much it meant for her to be part of the SGC, well I couldn't rightfully hold her back."

"That was an honorable decision on your part, Colonel."

"Yeah well you know me, sir, a sucker for kick-butt, blue-eyed blonde astrophysicists with attitude."

"One more personal question."

Oh! Here it comes. Jack looked at his white jogging shoes, so glad Sam wasn't being put through this degrading interrogation that made the Za'tarc test look like child's play.

"Do you know each other in the Biblical sense?"

"Didn't your sources tell you?" Jack scoffed.

"Suppose deserve that."

"Ya think." He shook his head and rubbed his aching temples.

"Jack, your and Major Carter's private lives are not being monitored, at least not by me or anyone I know. I'm from the old school of what you don't know, don't ask."

"Seems to me you're asking, George." He repeatedly flicked the pen's cap and scowled.

"Yes I am. And I'd hope you trust my motivation."

"So if I said, yeah we're shacking up together, you'd let me walk?"

"Yes, off the record I possible might. And were this on record you'd both be looking at court-martial offenses and charges."

"So it's a crap shoot?"

"Yes, son."

Ruffling his hair, Jack looked Hammond head on. "Just in my dreams." Man wasn't that the truth! "To put it straight, no we haven't been intimate. Heck, I haven't even made it off first base. Military regs you know." He looked back at the floor, wanting to crawl under it. Once again, he raked his brain over their honeymoon on a Goa'uld mother ship. Had they made love? He still didn't know.

"I'd hoped you'd say that, son."

"It's true," Jack groused, his cheeks flaming beneath his tan.

"Yes. That's one of the reasons you and Carter are still under my command. I know your code of ethics, Jack. They are above reproach as are Carter's."

"Yeah, well we're still human, George, and we're freaking tired of obeying the regs and being your goody two-shoes class pets. We have feelings and needs! So if all goes as planned she'll soon be Mrs. O'Neill." In this world too.

"And I want nothing better than to see you two love birds make a nest, it's just that — "

"So you saying if I don't retire you'll allow me and Carter to shack up together?" Jack challenged, knowing what he wanted to hear from the man.

"I'm a firm believer in don't know don't tell. But I can't and won't allow that to happen under my command, Jack."

"Which is why I respect you, George."

"Please, Jack?"

"Are we done, sir?" he slammed the pen back on the desk and sprang to his feet.

"No."

"I could walk."

"Yes, you could."

"Wanna establish that."

"Coffee?"

Jack's stomach declined with a headshake. Another drawn silence gave him time to think as he stalked the room. "Since you'd already selected Carter knowing about our operative years and the dance, you could have dismissed us right then and there, based on conflict of interests. You didn't. Why?"

"Several reasons. The first being Carter was as much the right fit as your Science Officer for that mission, as you were her CO."

"You could have broken us up afterward." He turned and glared.

"Yes. And don't think I didn't spend some sleepless nights considering that. If you'd been men, I'd have never thought twice about. Take you, Kawalsky and Ferretti. You all had history before the first Abydos mission, that's why I brought them on board."

"So?"

"Jack, everyday I see how militarily professional you and Carter are together under death defying stress, no less. Had I not known what lay beneath the surface, I'd never have guessed. Look how long it took Dr. Jackson or Teal'c to notice. And you can consider yourself lucky they know how to keep their mouths shut."

"I'm more than grateful, sir." But clearly you got no idea that Daniel and Teal'c have known since day one. And we'll keep it that way.

"Yes, so when it came down to what was right for the SGC and SG-1 it was my judgment call, Jack. One I don't regret."

"Well I do," he snapped, still stinging over the fact that even after retirement he'd been surveyed. "So was this Halloween Ball intelligence via the NID, CIA or Pentagon, sir?" Geez, why do I keep calling George, sir?

"I told you from the start nothing gets by me or that red phone."

"The pres knows?"

"Jack, he knew five years ago when you asked him to—"

"Yeah, I get the picture." Boy did he ever. One simple Presidential request and his world went to hell in a hand basket. Geez, another Carter cliché!

"And were it anyone else but you and Carter, he'd have had you both on fraternization charges long ago."

"There should be no exceptions, sir," Jack stated the obvious. "Nor is it fair that you've had to turn a blind eye all these years. Reason enough for me to resign." He stood up and kicked the wastebasket aside.

"Jack!"

"What?" he yelled back.

"Remember when your team went back to 1969?"

"Yeah, so?" He didn't want any more romps down memory lane.

"Although I wasn't certain where I'd fit in now with the SGC, I'd known for almost thirty years that you and my goddaughter would one day be in the Air Force together and hopefully have a life together as well. Jack, Sam was a baby in 1969. But when you and she stood before me on that road and told me who you were, I knew without a shadow of a doubt I was looking at Jacob Carter's daughter, my godchild."

"And your point, George?"

"As brief as our encounter was, I saw how you looked at Sam and she looked at you. It was more than a CO and his 2IC bond. I sure the heck didn't know who Jack O'Neill was then, but I made certain to find out. Over the next twenty plus years I watched you incognito become the man you are today. And by God, were you any less, I'd have made sure you two never met, let ended up in the same chain of command!"

Dumbstruck, Jack just stared at the beet-faced Texan, who Jack knew, meant every word he'd said.

"All of this," Hammond gestured toward the Gate Room, "Is greater than any of us, son. God Almighty is in control, not you, Samantha or myself. I believe He gives us free will and like Daniel has so often said, we chose the path we walk. But with that goes responsibilities. So it's my call when I think you are no longer capable of making pertinent decisions of command concerning Major Carter or the rest of your team, Colonel!"

"Screw this!" Jack angrily vented. "I know all about God and free will, George. I also know my strengths and weaknesses better than anyone, even you!" He turned sharply and opened the door.

"And I respect your judgment, Jack! That doesn't mean I agree with it. As unorthodox as it is, I believe that your personal rapport with the Major has only strengthened your ability to make the right calls, no matter who's involved. And our private conversation has only confirmed my theory. I know you're upset about this Entity incident. If our roles were reversed, I'd feel the same way. But you acted honorably through the entire ordeal, so I don't understand why you want to leave the SGC!"

"Still off record?" Jack turned back, gesturing wildly.

"Yes!" At last Hammond seemed pissed.

"Fine!" He planted his hands on George's desk and leaned over invading the man's space. "Now hear me out for the last time. I killed her, George! Do you know what that cost me? I'm so dang tired of being in control, of making life and death decisions I've no right to make when it concerns Carter. Yes, I love my job and the Air Force. It's what I am. What I do best – did best. But I can't do this anymore. I'm too old. Too tired. I will not risk there being a next time!"

Besides the red blush ascending his neck, face and head, George remained stationary in his chair.

"When the Entity fled the infirmary I should have zapped it twice. Instead I told Daniel and Teal'c to let it go. Because all I saw was Samantha. Even when no one else believed it, I knew Sam was still inside her body! And yeah, she confirmed it last night. George, do you know she saw and heard everything that happened in the SGC those two days?"

George nodded no.

"Well, she did! And instead of putting duty first and the security of my world, I hesitated because I'd emotionally fraternized with my 2IC. That's not only unorthodox, it is unacceptable, sir! I will no longer jeopardize the members of my team, by having to pick Sam over Daniel or Teal'c or anyone else for the fate of our world. Damn it, sir, let me go!"

"Go where?" Sam stepped through the opened office door addressing her arguing COs.

CHAPTER THREE

Jack and George turned to find Major Samantha Carter staring wide-eyed at them.

"Geez, Louise!" Jack slapped his jaw and collapsed into the nearest chair.

George's flaming hue deepened. "Jack?" he tossed Sam's question back at him.

"Colonel?" Sam's perplexed expression met his scrunched one.

Jack dropped his face in his hands and swore up a storm, that including cursing God.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on, sirs?" She looked anxiously from Hammond then back to Jack.

Jack lifted his head and held her troubled gaze. "I resigned."

"You can't, Colonel!" She moved toward him and glanced at Hammond.

George nodded and held up the letter. "As of zero hundred today," he stepped around them. "Now I've said and done all I can to change his mind, Major. I failed. So, I'll let you two kids talk." He opened the door and started to walk away.

"Rather you stayed, George." Jack urged with a limp wave. "We could do pizza, beer?" He avoided the dark blue daggers Sam aimed at him. "Hey, I'll spring for breakfast . . ."

His back to the couple Hammond paused.

Wow! Thanks, George.

"Sorry, Jack, count this as one of those markers." Hammond left shutting the door, sealing Jack's fate.

"Party pooper." Jack slumped back, wishing he had eaten something so he could vomit. Instead, he took in Sam's attire of a leather jacket, burnt orange fitted sweater and snug faded blue jeans. Her short blond hair windblown and cheeks flushed. She'd driven her bike to the base. Sam looked good enough to eat, but her narrowed glint said he was the main course and there were no appetizers. Shit!

"Donna wanna fight, Carter." He glanced at his watch and found it suddenly fascinating.

"Oh, we're not." Sam yanked off her jacket flung it in his face, then strolled to Hammond's desk and snatching up the letter, tore it in half.

"Got dozens more where that came from," he snorted, holding her jacket, inhaling the hint of vanilla that clung to it.

Sam shredded the letter and dropped it in the recycle basket, then walked back to Jack and leaned into his space. Nose-to-nose in fact. "You follow through on this asinine resignation and it's over between us, Jonathon James O'Neill, sir," she said just above a whisper.

"We took vows," he answered smugly and winked.

"We were drunk."

"We're we?" He waggled his brows and a purposeful taunting smile spread across his face.

"Never consummated them."

"Can fix that." He reached for her.

Furious, Sam evaded capture. "Everything's a joke to you, isn't it?"

"Not us." He dropped his empty arms into his lap.

"Then understand this. I will leave you." She glared.

Discarding her jacket he bolted to his feet, caught her forearms, "Don't threaten me, Carter. This was my choice to make not yours."

"And senior officer is not allowed to touch his subordinates in a threatening or sexual manner, sir!" She referred to where his hands gripped her.

"I'm no longer our CO, Sam." He unhanded her and took a step back. "Again, my choice, not yours."

Her eyes rounded and her lips trembled as she blew out, "Choices, huh? So that's the way it is now? We don't discuss what's best for us as a couple? You're just going to hightail it when things get a little heated. That's a bit mellow dramatic even for you."

"Mellow dramatic! I shot you D.E.A.D! So not doing that again. And I am not running." He turned, scrubbing his hands over his face and into his hair. "I'm doing what's best for you, me, SG-1. It'll give us a chance for the church and cake wedding, making babies and . . ."

Her hot blue glint shot him down. "You think that's all I want?" She snickered.

Angst and confusion engulfed Jack. "Hey, I thought it's about what we want? What we've been unconsciously wanting long before the Zar--gark test thingy, even last night. If I retire you can stay at the SGC, have your own command. Been working on that with Hammond for sometime now, even before this happened," he let slip. "He'll call in some markers to make it happen without you being a Colonel. Even discussed you commanding SG-1 when I—"

"You are wrong about what I want!"

"Wow! That's not what you told me." Jack latched onto her wrist. "Um, you're not that . . . Entity thingy again?"

"Holy Hannah, sir!" Sam walked to the window that separated Hammond's office from the briefing room and lowered the shades, then turned back glaring.

Hearing her pet slang relieved him. "Well, so what are you saying?" He gravitated toward her.

"Thought you knew me, better! I wouldn't let dad use his influence to get me into the Astronaut program. So no one, even you, Jack O'Neill, are going to write me a free meal ticket to command a team, let alone SG-1. If and when it happens, it will be because I worked my sorry tail off the same way you did. I'll have earned it! Got that, you--you arrogant, blow it up solve everything, SOB?"

"Stand down, Major!" Jack exploded lording over her.

"You can't make me. You're retired, remember!" She spat back.

"Oy." He nodded. "Forgot." His shoulders slouched.

"I hate you, Jonathon O'Neill!"

"Day ju view," he muttered recalling the song.

"And one more crapping thing." Her pitch had simmered, but not much, "The SGC needs you. And I need you to be my CO more than I do my husband."

"Low blow, Carter." He squished his facial muscles.

"Is it? Because I'll transfer out of the SGC and any dreams we might have had, end right here." She stomped her foot for affect.

"Hey, you can't do that. The SGC needs you, Carter. Why your brain's worth a lot more than mine."

"So you've said. But you're the reason I'm an asset to the Stargate program. You bring out the best in me. I may love what I do, even be obsessed with it at times, but you're my motivator, the missing plus factor in the Carter equation."

"Huh?" He tried to do the math and failed.

"Jack, if you leave SG-1," her voice clotted, "It's over between us. I can't love someone who doesn't value me enough to not consult me on a matter that seriously affects my future. I believed that when we took our wedding vows, you honored and respected me not only as your wife but as your equal. I thought you loved me."

"You know I do!"

"Prove it!" She raved.

"You drive me crazy, woman! I've been proving my love to you since the first day we met . . ."

"Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter to the Control Room stat," Hammond ordered over the intercom.

Sam turned on her heels and opened the door, then glanced back. Jack stayed put and called her bluff. "And no matter what you do or say, we're not finished, Carter."

"I know." She lifted her trembling chin and then shut the door on Hammond's command. Well that's a first. "You blame yourself because you shot me, right?"

"Killed as in dead, destroyed, eradicated, eliminated, poof!" He tossed his hands over his head and shook his head, groaning.

"Whatever."

Jack scrunched his face. What is this, imitate O'Neill day?

"You killed the Entity not me. And then when you refused to shut down my life support you saved me again. Furthermore, it could have been Daniel in my place and you know what?"

"Nope, but you'll tell me anyway," he groused and leaned against the desk, crossing his legs and arms. Maybe if he stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed. He did.

"Damn straight, Colonel, sir." She marched over, yanked his fingers from his ears, then bending into him made Jack arch against the edge of the desk.

"Lose the titles, Sam!"

"Okay, Mr. Jack-off!"

"Hey, hey, I hate when you call me that. Unless of course you want to um . . . " He winked suggestively.

"Oh, oh, you're walking a thin line!" Sam hissed.

"Well, I'm just saying . . ." He flinched, seeing no way out of this war of words. "Dang, Sam, it brought up your profile on the monitor."

"And no matter who had been possessed by the Entity, you'd have made the same call! Or need I remind you what you did on Heru'ur's ship a few months ago."

His head snapped around. "I took a snake for you. I'd have done it for any—"

"One," she finished his sentence. "And you almost died in the process—."

Jack grabbed hold of Sam, yanked her firm against him and dropped into his warrior mode, the single mindedness that freed him to do whatever was necessary to protect those he loved, even at the cost of his own life. As his fingers dug into her upper arms, his expression turned rigid and cold.

"Jack," Sam gulped. "You're scaring me!"

His eyes fused darker, his soul chilled and his heart hardened. He allowed Sam to see the demon only his enemies saw before he killed them. True, she'd glimpsed this steely killing machine on the battlefield and when she'd almost been raped on their Black Ops mission eight-years prior. But Sam had never been on the receiving end. It was necessary to remind her of just what he could be.

Yes, he'd become that warrior when he'd kissed Bel´ju, even when he'd shot Carter three days ago. The problem was when he stood facing the Entity, he'd not transformed into that ruthless warrior fast enough. He was no longer of value. He had to make Sam see that he was washed up.

Soon as he saw fear in her eyes, Sam went on the defense and swung her hands up and under, breaking Jack's steeled hold. Backing off, she glared at him. "What the frick was that about?"

Jack clawed his way back toward the light. He straightened and scrubbed his face as if to escape that darkness of his soul. "A reminder."

"Of what an asshole you can be?" She hugged herself. "I know all about Black Ops mindset, Jack. Remember I was an operative too!"

"Then you know I shouldn't have hesitated! I failed because I saw you and not the enemy."

Her confident gaze sealed his fate. "Just because you hesitated doesn't change the fact that in the end, you did shot me, no more than when I decided to communicate with the alien even though you made it clear you didn't want me too."

"Yeah, well it's also clear that what I want isn't always on Major Samantha Carter-O'Neill's agenda."

"And just what's that suppose to mean?" she fumed, pressing him awkwardly against the desk. Pain shot down Jack's lower back.

"That even now, knowing you would have died and left me to pick up the pieces, you'd still would have talked to that alien thingy."

"Oh, but you dying with Bel´ju and leaving me to pick up the pieces is different?"

"Touché!"

"Don't you see, Jack, that it has nothing to do with us. Besides, you did exactly what I knew you would. You brought me back!"

"Geez, that's what Daniel said," he grumbled, glancing off.

"I know. You two need to talk. He blames himself for this, for me almost dying, for us being at odds."

"He does? Hey, how does he know we're at odds?"

"He's more perceptive than you think."

"This is, head buried in a dusty book Daniel, we're talking about?"

"Yeah. He called after you left this morning and thinks you hate him."

"Hey, I don't hate Space Monkey."

Sam frowned.

"Okay, so I wanna do him serious damage."

"Jack," she said in that pleading tone he couldn't refuse.

"Fine. Fine. I'll square it with him after we're done here. Now please get off? The old backbone's hurting."

A cringe of regret for his discomfort touched Sam's eyes and she nodded. Both knew he could have shoved her off anytime, but as normal he'd suffered quietly.

Releasing him, Sam continued on her tirade. "As scientists, Daniel and I think differently than you, Jack."

"Nah really? Ya think?" he snorted, sat on the desk and then stretched his legs as his backache eased up.

Sam's mood lightened. "Be boring if we thought alike. Why you and Daniel would never have anything to talk or argue about. Teal'c would just walk around saying, 'Indeed,' to Junior and I'd have no one to bring me coffee or annoy me playing Game Boy or yoyo in my lab."

"Um, so now I annoy you?"

Sam rolled her gray-blues eyes. "Of course not, well maybe sometimes."

Unconvinced, he squinted at her.

"Okay, sometimes you flat out infuriate me, piss me off, like now!"

"Feelings mutual, Carter." He winked. "Isn't love grand?"

"Yeah." She smirked. "But if you didn't pester me at least once a day, I'd go bonkers. In fact, when you don't show with coffee, Jell-O or cake I start to worry there's um . . .someone else." She glanced shyly at her riding boots.

"Like who?"

"Jack!"

"Hey, just curious." He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Freya." She glanced up through her lashes.

Huh? "For crying out loud, Carter, she's an alien with a snake in her head." He grimaced with an open shudder.

Yeah, now whenever Freya came through the gate Jack hightailed it the other direction. First, because he didn't trust her symboite Anise, secondly Freya's brazen ways scared the life out of him. One would think he'd be flattered the beautiful woman wanted to jump his bones. Not! And ever since she'd come onto him that first time, Freya managed to corner Jack twice the last few months. Just last week she stuck her tongue in his ear and goosed him right in front of Hammond.

No more Mr. Nice Guy, Jack had asked Hammond, "Permission to deck the bitch, next time, sir?"

Hammond had laughed and said, "Request denied, Colonel, but please do get a grip on the situation."

Oh, he'd get a grip all right, around that alien's bony neck! Apparently knowing how Jack felt for Carter turned Freya on more. So fricking weird! Why couldn't the snake like him instead of Daniel?

"She kissed you, twice in your holding cell."

"Oh that." Swell! Carter knows. How?

"Don't give me that Homer look. Daniel told me."

"I so own him!" He met her jealous gaze and gulped. "So she made a pass at me? Didn't even see it coming coz, I was thinking about you and how they thought we were Za´tarcies. You know the whole, we were going to explode drama." Jack gave his most winning smile.

Sam didn't buy it. "Freya kissed you." She crossed her arms and gave her 'wanna kick-your-butt' look.

"Yes well she, it, whatever, kissed me, but . . . " He twirled a finger to emphasis, "It was dang uncomfortable. Said she wanted to thank me for saving her life, twice."

"By kissing her?"

"Nah ah!" He waved a time out. "Freya kissed me. Where she comes from they're pretty open with the kissing thing." And doing the nasty. Nope best not mention that, Jack.

Sam's eyes narrowed.

"Told her I'd do it for anybody."

"Kiss them?" Her light eyebrows gathered like a storm front.

"No! Save anyone's life. Heck, Sam, I meant I wasn't interested."

"And the second kiss?"

"Hey, got to give the snake an 'A' for persistence." He snickered then shut up.

"Did you like it?" Another ice blue glint as Sam did her hyperventilating huff.

"Give me a break!" He rubbed his throbbing temples. "I'm a guy. All guys like being kissed by a hot woman." Oy!

"So now she's hot? Maybe if I strutted around the SGC wearing a latex halter top and hip-huggers showing off my belly and thong straps, you'd think I was hot too!"

Oh yeah, Sam wearing that outfit would be sexy and the thong straps even better. However catching her murderous glint, he dropped his head in defeat. "Hey listen, this exchange is getting us nowhere fast. Yes the snake kissed me. Did I enjoy it? Hell no! Did not." He waved his pointer fingers. "Why, because I'm in love with you. Heck, even if Freya had walked in buck-naked I'd done the same. I only touched her to push her off me, Sam. I said, she should be out helping prove you and I weren't Za´tarcies and quickly escorted her to the door." He emphasized proudly.

The strained silence grated Jack's nerves. He stole a glance to find her thinking way too much.

"You could have told me," she murmured.

"Yes, well there's that. I didn't see any sense complicating an all ready complicated situation. I mean. I'd just about gotten my brain barbecued."

"To save me." She reminded him gently.

"Yes." He nodded reflectively. "I'll do anything for you, Sam. And truth is, I haven't thought about that encounter with Freya until you brought it up."

"Really?" She glanced over, her eyes moist with tears.

"Gosh, Carter, it's me you're talking to, old faithful, one woman Jack. Why you're more woman than I deserve let alone able to handle." Yeah, there'd been enough explosive situations between them to prove handling Carter was no piece of cake. Present state of affairs included.

Sam leaned in and whispered, "Thank you."

"Ahh, it's nothing." He grinned wanting to kiss her. Timing's everything with Carter. This was not the time.

"Yes it is."

Huh? Is she reading my mind?

"You're my safe bet, Jack O'Neill. I depend on you far more than you know." She smiled for him.

"You do?" His brows did their caterpillar dance across his forehead. Why did he feel he was being setup . . . again?

"And not just with my heart, when it comes to field missions I'd follow you into hell and back."

"I believe we've been there, done that." He rubbed the dull ache in his right knee from a staff weapon blast on a present non-existent moon-like-Hell. Jack had tried to keep Apophis' guards from taking Sam to make her drink the Blood of Sokar, a strong narcotic that caused hallucinations. Yeah, that'd been as close to Hades as he wanted to get. He knew Sam felt the same.

"Remember one of our first missions with those Mongols?"

"Hello! Of course I remember you and that blue silk number with the veil. I almost ravished you in the tent, you know." He winked.

"Tell me about it." She grinned. "But I'm referring to when I fought Turghan."

"Ah, yes. Macho man." Jack scowled and crossed his arms, then grinned. "You beat the shit out of him."

"I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah." He smiled broader.

"And you let me."

"Um, didn't have any choice, Sam." He scratched his head. "You accepted his challenge before I could."

"You mean you were going to."

"As your CO yes. But you opened your big mouth and besides I knew you could take him."

"Really?" She sent a suspicious glint his way.

"Sure." He winced, recalling how he tried to use his pistol and got stopped. Probably best not to mention that. "Just what's your point here?"

"That after that incident I realized just how much you believed in my abilities to defend myself and be a part of your team."

"Sam, I've never doubted your skills or intelligence. And as the guy who loves you and wants to protect you at all costs, the part of me that's your CO has always tried to let you take the same risks I expect from each of my team members. You better also know that there's no one else I want watching my six, but you, Carter."

As if on the same wavelength, Sam grimaced. "And you're the only CO I trust with my life. So if you leave there's no reason for me to stay on. Yes we are opposites and yet those foibles compliment us. We work best together, not apart. SG-1 isn't the SGC's flagship team for nothing. It's because you lead us. You're the heart and soul of SG-1." She touched his tensed jaw and stared into his eyes.

When it came to manipulating, Jack O'Neill no one did it better. "You're evil, Sam." He sighed.

"I know." She struggled to smile.

He saw she doubted her argument had any impact on him. Truth was it had far more affect than his ego admitted. He turned, strode into the briefing room and then stared out the window that overlooked the Stargate ready room. That ancient gate had changed his life and his bitter attitude toward life.

If it not for that first mission to Abydos, he'd be six-feet under with a self-inflicted, gun shot to his brain and far worse not entering those pearly gates of heaven. Although he had hoped that depression-influenced suicide was an exception to the rule. Meanwhile, he'd never have met Daniel, Teal'c, George, Janet, Cassie or Sam. Yeah, Sam had become his sole reason to climb out of bed every morning, even if it was alone.

Jack long ago realized he'd fallen short in the love and caring department when he'd had Sara and Charlie in his life. The selfish bastard that he'd been, he'd not only failed to love them well, he'd failed to care that he'd failed. The moment he met Sam at that White House party the dark part of his nature began to change. Heck long before that, she'd gotten under his skin.

And three years back, when this compassionate nurturing woman was willing to die with an alien child, now lovingly known, as Cassandra Fraiser became another turning point in his life. It made Jack acknowledge how much he loved Sam. Made him take a hard look at himself, and what he needed to change for the better, especially, how to treat the people who loved him. He had never known how to really love until he'd known Samantha Carter. He was still learning.

Yep, his beautiful, headstrong, intelligent, gentle, courageous, and honorable 2IC had given him a purpose to live and it wasn't just to rid the galaxy of the Goa'uld. Jack tried to think of more adjectives to describe her. They eluded him. Sam was all that mattered. And even she wouldn't let him have her yet, least not the way he wanted. Irish pride reared its ugly head. Between George's seventeen markers and Sam's threat to walk, what other choice did he have? Then again, pride cometh before the fall. So he stood there like the ass he was glaring at the Gate, muttering and cursing in his typical O'Neill fashion. Loudly.

In tune to his needs, Sam waited patiently until he was done venting and had dropped his forehead against the coolness of the window's pane.

"Hey." She strolled up behind him and slipped her arms about his lean waist, rested her chin on his shoulder and then gazed at that portal to other worlds.

"Hey." He captured her strong delicate hands and hugged them to his waist.

"You okay?"

"Depends which 'okay,' you're referring to, Dorothy?"

She propped her chin on his shoulder. "Which one you want to talk about, the Stargate or us?"

"Multiple choice, huh?"

"Are they?" Her breath tickled his ear and shot straight to his groin. Jack groaned. Sam was right. For now they were one and the same.

"You really think we can keep doing this?" He gazed at the Gate knowing in his heart that he wanted too.

"Have too. Until Earth is free from the Goa'uld we're a packaged deal, O'Neill. But for the record, I do want that church wedding and your 3.2 babies someday, but—"

"What?"

"These." Sam reached under his shirt collar and pulled out his dog tags, then held his reflection in the window. "You once promised that if you ever decided to walk away from this for real." She looked at the Gate. "You'd leave these for me to find, preferably on my pillow. They weren't there."

Turning together, Jack brought her into his arms. "Umm, subconscious screw-up? Selective memory? Midlife crisis moment?" How could he have forgotten something so important?

"None of the above. Neither of us are willing to give that up, Jack." She pointed at the Gate. "Besides you wouldn't last one week topside." She fingered the tags and grinned.

"Don't think so?"

"Nope. Not a chance."

"I'd go fishing."

"Without me?"

"Do that all the time."

"Can't do it forever."

"Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Stop thinking so much, you're giving me a headache.""What kind?" She nibbled his earlobe.

"Come here and find out." He pulled her into him. Her breath hitched and he grinned lustfully.

"Whoa! She flustered squirming closer. "I believe that's against regs." She gazed down between them.

"Never argue with mother nature." He nuzzled her neck, and felt the nubs of her breasts rub his chest. "Apparently you don't either."

Sam pulled back, glancing down at the evidence in her sweater and blushed. Then her eyes widened with realization. "Yikes! Camera!" She gestured above them and motioned to pull away.

"Hammond shut them all off," he rumbled into her sweet scented hair while his hands caressed her hips and locked about her waist.

"Smart General." She fell back against him.

"Yep, a true Texan," which reminded him, "Hey, my note said I'd gone for groceries, so how'd you know?"

"Like you said, true blue Texan." She trailed her lips across his neck.

"Ah," Jack nodded. "Or just a conniving CO, determined to keep his flagship team in one piece?"

"Yeah." She kissed his jaw and giggled, "Looks good on paper." She glanced up. "He really put you through the wringer, huh?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Let's just say he went where no man has gone before at least into the O'Neill-Carter universe."

"Holy Hannah! What did you tell him?" Her blues rounded up with concern.

"Relax, Babe, it's not what I told him, but what he told me. Apparently off and on the ice, you and I are a matched set. Sort of like Homer and Marge."

"Well, I could have told you that."

"Yeah, would have been a lot less painful." He winced. "Still, if I stay on, there's the issue about me making the right calls down the line. I don't know if I can where you're concerned."

"Ssh." She pressed a fingertip to his open lips. "Like General Hammond, if I ever think I can't or you can't do what's expected of us here or in the field, I'll be the first to say so and as my CO you'll do the same for me, right?"

"Right." He smiled into her ocean blue eyes and got lost. "Aw isn't that what I just did?"

"You were under the influence, sir, I believe it's called, a conflict of the heart."

'Oh.' he silently mouthed the word and nodded. How'd she do that? "So?"

"So."

"We okay,again?"

"Oh, yeah, forever okay and for always." She gazed up and smiled amorously.

"Excellent! Because I'd love to show you my trees." He roguishly wiggled his brows and smirked.

"Umm, not etchings?" she sounded suspicious.

"Nope. Just trees. But not just any trees. Our trees." He winked relaying his double meaning of their secret spot at The Garden of the God's park.

"So is there a special tree among these trees?" She played along.

"Yeah sure yabetcha. An ancient blue spruce with a heart and our initials, along with a bottle of refined wine and aged cheese to go with this cranky, old CO who has one huge crush on his beautiful and brilliant 2IC."

"Oh, man! You do know how to wine and dine a gal."

Oh, it's nothing, really." He shrugged. "Only the best for, my Dorothy."

"You are the best, my Scarecrow." She turned her face and swept her soft lips across his whiskered jaw toward his mouth.

"And still retired," Jack pulled her harder against him as a groan rumbled from his chest.

"Umm." Sam found his mouth, kissing him softly, then dragging her tongue along his lower lip and nibbling with her teeth.

Oh, yeah! Jack went for the goal! His mouth parted and his hungry tongue found hers. They deserved at least one long tongue dueling kiss before—

"O'Neill and Carter get your butts to the Control Room now!"

Stunned by Hammond's crude abruptness, they pulled back and stared at the intercom.

"He's pissed." Jack's mouth went sour.

"Yeah, so not like him." Sam slipped reluctantly from his arms and rushed into Hammond's office.

Jack followed at a snail pace, sulking. Would they ever get to be lovers, to be husband and wife?

"You're sure he's not watching?" Sam rearranged her sweater and finger combed her hair.

Adjusting himself, Jack shook his head. "Not his style."

"Didn't think so." She withheld her gaze and snatched her jacket out of the chair.

"Whoa, I'm starved." Jack's nausea had been replaced by hunger pains and growling.

"Okay, after we speak with the General, let's get some breakfast in the commissary."

"Or I could still scramble us that omelet," he said in his seductive voice, "Then we could do the park for a midday lunch."

"Umm, well . . ." she sounded reluctant.

"Commissary it is." Jack submitted begrudgingly to his fate and then griped like her CO, "Hey, Carter, we're still on downtime, right?" Hands crammed in his pockets with thumbs out, he leaned against the briefing room door's jam, crossed his feet and waited for her reaction.

"Yeah." She turned back and gave him her wicked smile. "So does this mean I'm to call you, sir again, sir?"

"Funny," he mocked, his arms empty without her.

Her beautiful smile faded with the dismal consequence of his decision.

"Depends on what Hammond's barking about though. Hey, that reminds me. Back in our Ops days how many times did I save your sorry little. . . ?"

"Unscheduled incoming wormhole!"

The chevrons began to dialup the Gate.

"Sounds serious, Colonel." Sam dropped back into their practiced roles and picked up her pace, exiting Hammond's office, through the briefing room and toward the stairs.

"It was." On her heels, he realized they were talking different issues. "Hey, I'm not going back to that warped purple tree world or the swamp moon with those creepy, bloodsuckin' spider thingys again!" He physically shook.

"But I found samples of Naquadria on that moon." She beamed over her shoulder.

"Carter!"

"What?" she mimicked and then laughing stepped off down the stairs.

Jack sighed. Maybe hanging around here a little longer wasn't so bad. He'd see more of Sam than off base. Watching the sexy swing of his leggy 2IC in her snug jeans, he pondered just how long before he'd see her without them and relocate the location of her mole.

"Maybe Apophis has his hands in the Tok'ra cookie jar again, sir."

"Well there's that." A grin split his face and Jack appreciated Sam's curvy rearview, knowing just whose cookie jar he wanted to climb into. "One can only wish, Carter, one can only wish."

Fin

Please go to the next story: Wishes Of The Heart, Chosen Hearts Series S4