All Things Come to Those That Wait

by CoriKay

All the frigid weather that the Upper Midwest has experienced recently reminded me of a story I first wrote in 2006. I do enjoy writing interactions between O'Neill and Teal'c.

Title: All Things Come To Those That Wait…

Author: CoriKay

Genre: Some Jack whumping (he's had much worse), friendship

Rating: 13+

Warnings: some cursing

Season: 9

Spoilers: nothing specific

Summary: A simple ice-fishing trip with Teal'c. what could possible go wrong?

Author's note: Some time back, last year? The year before? Someone had issued a challenge about Jack and Teal'c going ice fishing and there were bonus points for cars going through ice. Here's my attempt to cover both the challenge word with this scenario.

Feedback: Love it!

Thanks to: Astra for the beta, and my son-in-law for a local's perspective of Ely, MN

Disclaimer: Disclaimers: SG1, characters and back stories are owned by MGM etc. No infringement of copyright is intended. No money exchanged hands. Original characters are property of the author.

All Things Come To Those That Wait…

General Jack O'Neill decided he was getting much better at waiting. Years ago a wait like this would have driven him over the edge. But today, he settled back in the fairly comfortable chair at the headquarters of the 148th Fighter Wing. He had a great view of the 10,000 foot runway that on this February day had been skimmed clear of the snow that had fallen just before his arrival in Duluth.

It was good to be back in what he considered to be his home state. The best part of

his childhood had been spent at his grandparents' place. This time, however, he wouldn't be spending any time there. The cabin had been fully winterized and it hadn't made sense to keep it "open" on the chance he'd be able to extricate himself from Washington. It was just a stroke of pure luck that Colonel William "Skip" Skoglund, commander of the Minnesota Air National Guard, and old friend, had contacted Jack in DC asking for advice on where to stay while he attended a reunion in the nation's capital. O'Neill offered his apartment and Skip reciprocated with his place on Burntside Lake, northwest of Ely. Jack had jetted in with his Cessna Citation 500 with the intent of letting Skoglund fly it to Washington and then returning it back to Duluth.

Five days of clear air, five days of ice fishing, five days away from the pressures of the job and the uniform, although O'Neill knew that he never truly got away from his responsibilities. And he wasn't the only one. SG1 had just returned from engaging the Lucien alliance and it seemed like a great idea to give them the opportunity to have some "down" time in the great state of Minnesota.

In the end, only Teal'c agreed to come, but only after O'Neill guaranteed that there would be no mosquitoes to contend with.

The door to the commander's office burst open, Skoglund blasted out and towards O'Neill. Jack saw the beginnings of the upward movement of the officer's right hand. "Don't you dare salute me, Skip," he admonished. "I'm on vacation and I damn well better not

hear anyone call me "Sir" or "General"."

Skoglund recovered nicely by augmenting the motion to extend his hand toward Jack." You look great you son of a bitch."

Well, that definitely wasn't "sir" Jack thought as he returned the vigorous handshake. "So do you," he responded.

"Sorry I ran late Jack."

"No problem, I'm waiting for my fishing partner anyway. He's flying in from Peterson."

"There's a C-130 coming in from there in a few minutes."

"That should give me enough time to go over the pre-flight checks on the Cessna with you."

They made their way to where Jack had taxied his jet. The checks took about fifteen minutes. It was just a formality as far as Jack was concerned. Hell, the colonel flew F16C's both as a command and instructor pilot. His jet was in good hands. When they finished, they walked back to the maintenance facility and found Teal'c waiting for them.

O"Neill always enjoyed people's first reaction to the giant of a man that the Jaffa was. He appeared even more imposing than usual, clad in a bulky parka and a black watch cap pulled low over his forehead.

Skoglund simply looked up.

Teal'c extended his hand in welcome and responded as Jack had instructed him. "Football, Oregon State," he said.

Skip returned the handshake. "I can believe that, son."

Jack inwardly laughed at Skoglund's assessment of Teal'c. No way would he guess that Teal'c was not his junior but nearing a hundred years old.

Skoglund dug in his pocket and produced a set of keys. "Truck's out in the back parking lot in the commander's space. The door's open at the house and the frig is stocked."

"Is it not unwise to leave your home unlocked?" Teal'c asked.

"This is Minnesota, son. Haven't you heard of Minnesota nice? Besides this time of year there are only about 40 people living out on the lake."

Jack accepted the keys. "This'll be his first ice fishing trip. What's biting?"

"Lake trout. Broke down last year and bought a fish house. Getting too old to park my ass on a five gallon pail for hours on end. There's tackle at the house, but nothing fancy. You'll have to pick up bait somewhere. I suggest "The Great Outdoors" for that. Just remember that the lake is spring fed and there are some areas of thin ice. Don't stray too much south of the fish house. You remember how to get to the cabin?"

"I take Highway 61 along Superior, Highway 1 to Ely, then northwest on Echo Trail to the lake."

Skoglund nodded.

Jack passed over the keys to his apartment. "Know your way around Washington?" he asked.

"I'll manage. Wish we had time to do some catching up."

"We'll do it sometime this summer. You can come to my place," Jack offered.

"Deal. But only if you've finally got some fish to catch in that lake of yours." The officer gave O'Neill's hand another pumping and then sped off.

Jack turned his attention to Teal'c and said, "Good to see you, T."

The Jaffa gave his trademark bow. "And you as well, O'Neill." He picked up his duffle bag. "Shall we proceed?"

They located Skoglund's truck and stowed their gear in the bed. Jack slid into the driver's seat feeling deep satisfaction as he grasped the steering wheel of the 150, realizing just how much he missed driving. He relied on taxis or a driver if the need arose. Just another aspect of his life that was different since he left the SGC. But some things never would change. Like the friendship of the man who occupied the passenger seat. He turned to look at Teal'c and guessed the look lasted just a moment too long because the Jaffa's eyebrow rose.

"Is there something wrong, O"Neill?"

"No, just glad we're doing this."

"As am I. I look forward to regaling fish stories to ColonelCarter and DanielJackson."

"Just remember to increase the length of the fish by a couple of inches every time you tell it."

***

It was almost dark as they pulled into Ely. Jack intended to get licenses and bait so they'd be ready to fish in the morning. "The Great Outdoors" was easy to find on Sheridan Street and Jack parked in front of the shop. As he and Teal'c were exiting the truck, an older SUV pulled up behind them. A man carrying a sack jumped from the vehicle, elbowed his way past them on the narrow sidewalk and rushed into the store, all but slamming the door behind him. Jack just shrugged and obligingly opened the door for Teal'c and followed him in.

The shop was filled with the soft hum of compressors. Tanks filled with live bait gurgled as oxygen was bubbled into them. Teal'c seemed fascinated with the schools of swimming minnows so Jack left him to meander up and down the rows of fishing equipment in search of some new tackle. He couldn't help thinking that depth finders and such seemed like an unfair advantage. He remembered Maybourne's method of fishing when they had been stranded on that forsaken moon. Yup, it was just wrong, on so many levels. In the end he decided Skip was right. The "tried and true" was the way to go. Jiggle sticks it would be.

A loud exchange from the counter drew his attention to the front of the store. He could see the man who had preceded them into the store was at the front counter and he was definitely pissed.

"I drove in from Armstrong Lake in to register this fish in the weekly contest. And now you're telling me you're not gonna do it?!"

"I can't register a fish that's frozen. Those are the rules," the young man explained.

"Course it's frozen. It ain't exactly balmy out there. Caught it early, been out all day."

"I'm sorry, sir. You should have kept it in water. This is a weekly contest. I have no way of knowing when you caught that fish, so I can't register it." The clerk turned away from the belligerent man.

"Don't you turn your back on me," the man snarled.

Jack saw the movement of the man's arm as he reached over the counter. He moved quickly up the aisle and stepped up next to him. The arm retreated and the look that was sent Jack's way was warning.

"Could I get some help with the lures?" Jack asked.

The clerk turned back and replied, "Sure. Be right with you."

"We're not done here yet," the man yelled.

"Yes, we are," the clerk said.

"You will register this fish!"

Being an ass was something that O'Neill never had any patience for, so he spoke up. "I don't think he intends on doing that, so why don't you move along?"

"You better stay the hell out of this."

Jack had successfully diverted the man's attention away from the clerk. The man was younger than Jack first thought. The ruddy complexion indicated he spent a lot of time outside. His appearance was slightly unkempt and being in close proximity, Jack detected a combination of body odor, cigarette smoke and most worrisome, alcohol. The blue eyes were bloodshot and angry, very angry.

"Be glad to," Jack replied. "Just pack up your catch and leave."

Maybe it was the way Jack said it, maybe that had nothing to do with it.

"Are you saying I didn't catch this walleye?" The man's eyes narrowed which made them look even more hostile.

"I don't care whether you caught it or not. This young man here isn't going to register it, regardless," Jack answered.

"Listen, motherf-----"

"Is there a problem here?" Teal'c's deep voice cut him off as he walked up. He came to stand directly behind the man and Jack could see that the loudmouth sensed the sheer bulk of the person standing behind him without turning around. His mouth worked furiously before he spat out, "Bastards, you're all a bunch of bastards!" He grabbed up his fish, spun around Teal'c and stomped out the door.

"I assume this is not the "Minnesota nice" you told me about," Teal'c deadpanned.

"Well, T., even the garden of Eden had a snake in it," Jack admitted.

"Thanks for the help with that guy," the clerk said. "I'm not so sure he would have left if you two hadn't been here."

"No big deal," Jack said.

So what did you need help with?" the clerk asked as he prepared to come around the counter.

"Well, first we need some licenses," Jack answered.

"I'll need your social security numbers and your driver's licenses."

O'Neill dug for his wallet and produced necessary documentation. The clerk then looked at Teal'c expectantly.

"I do not have the information you seek," Teal'c said.

"He's visiting," Jack contributed.

"Nonresident alien?" the clerk asked.

"Indeed," Teal'c answered.

"I'll have to make a call to the 24 hour DNR hotline to have them create a customer profile for you."

"Do what you need to do, we'll wait." Jack said.

The young man grabbed a phone and dialed. He listened for a moment and then said, "I'm on hold. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Teal'c pointed at a row of pictures on the wall behind the clerk. All of them depicted vehicles in varying stages of submersion somewhere on a frozen lake. "Were the occupants of those vehicles rescued?"

The clerk smiled. "While we do have vehicles go through the ice around here unintentionally, those cars were supposed to break through. Every year they park one out and the person who guesses the time and date closest to when it goes through, wins a prize. This year's contest sign-up is over there if you want to participate." He gestured to an area near the counter that featured a box with a hole cut in the top.

Teal'c walked over and after looking very thoughtful for a minute, Jack saw him write something on a slip of paper and then deposit it in the box.

After spending about another half hour in the shop, they were dutifully licensed and had a supply of sucker minnows, just the bait the clerk promised would be what they needed to land lake trout. They stowed the bait in the extended cab and as Jack rounded the front of the truck, he saw it. The streetlight illuminated a scratch that ran from the headlight to the driver's side door. The vehicle had been keyed and Jack had a pretty good idea who was responsible. His volley of curses brought Teal'c to his side.

Wordlessly they both looked up and down the nearly vacant street. Jack knew that the man who had done this wasn't about to hang around. He fingered the freshly incised mark and sighed. Damn. He'd have to settle up with Skoglund when he got back.

"Let's go Teal'c." Jack unlocked the door and yanked it open. Teal'c joined him in the vehicle and they sped off. The ride to the cabin was uneventful and by the time they pulled onto the long driveway marked with the sign reading "Skip's Sanctuary", Jack was feeling better. He parked the truck and together he and Teal'c unloaded their gear.

The cabin was small but very functional. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a sitting area that featured a large stone fireplace. Jack busied himself with starting a fire while Teal'c familiarized himself with the place.

"O'Neill." Teal'c's voice echoed from down the hallway.

Jack looked away from the fire that was just starting to blaze. "Yeah?"

"What is this structure?"

Jack closed the doors to the fireplace and adjusted the damper and followed the Jaffa's voice. He found him in the bathroom standing in front of a glass walled cubicle lined with two benches and what looked like a pile of rocks heaped in one corner.

"This is a strange shower," Teal'c said.

"Hey, Skip installed a sauna," Jack said.

"What is a sauna?"

"It's a Nordic thing. You turn on the stove in here." Jack showed Teal'c the settings. "After it gets hot, you can throw water on the rocks to create steam. They say it's almost like a religious experience, very purifying. After you're done, you're supposed to jump naked into the lake."

"Would that not be difficult since there is ice on the lake?"

"I think you could do a cold shower instead," Jack said, motioning to the stall next to the sauna. "In fact I'd prefer you do it that way."

They both went back to the kitchen and Teal'c busied himself with heating some cans of chili he found in a cupboard.

Jack checked the fire once more then opened the sliding door that led to the deck overlooking the lake. He stepped out and then closed it behind him. The cold air filled his lungs as he breathed deep. He looked up at the stars. Without the harsh glare of streetlights, and just a sliver of a moon, they cast a dazzling array of light. He hadn't seen such a display since he had left his home in Colorado. In Washington, the nights seemed as brightly lit as the days and activity never ceased. Here, there was a welcome stillness, broken only by the voice of the wind through the surrounding evergreens. Yes, this was just what he needed. Time off. The company of a good friend. And fishing. What more could he ask for?

***

After a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast, both of them were ready to try their luck. They hiked down to the lake and out to the fish house which was about 30 yards from shore. Once inside the fish house, Jack started the small propane heater and used the gas auger to drill two holes into the ice. As Jack suspected he would be, Teal'c was a natural when it came to "jigging". And apparently lucky, thought Jack, as he watched Teal'c haul in yet another fish. They limited out on the lake trout and sunfish by noon. They ate well.

When Jack announced that he was planning to hike around part of the lake, Teal'c declined to join him.

"I will remain here and meditate, O'Neill."

"Suit yourself. I'll see you later." Although Teal'c no longer needed to kel-nor-reem , Jack knew the Jaffa still took comfort in the ritual. He donned his boots and slipped on his jacket. The temperature had climbed into the high twenties and the clouds had thickened with the promise of snow in their billows of blue gray.

He was about a mile into his walk when the snow began to fall in huge flakes but he continued on another two miles before the visibility became increasingly poor. Resigned, he turned, but before starting back to the cabin he stood on the edge of the gravel road and just took it all in. Lifting his face to the skies he felt the caress of the flakes against his skin. It was hard not to start humming "Winter Wonderland". This was why he loved it so up here. For just a few moments, you could feel like you were the only person in the world. Unbelievably quiet, the heavy snow muffled all sound and covered everything in a deep softness. And maybe that was why he never heard the vehicle coming from behind until it was almost on him. It blew by, so close that slush from the roadway hit his boots. Reflexively, O'Neill spun away and by the time he recovered, all he could see were retreating tail lights.

Back at the cabin, he found Teal'c seated in front of the fireplace, looking particularly relaxed. Jack kicked off his soaked boots, shucked out of his jacket and joined the Jaffa in staring at the comforting flames. They discussed the possibility of going to the International Wolf Center if they limited out early again the next day. Jack had noticed some cross country skis in the garage and some boots that would probably fit them. They went to bed early with a full day planned.

Jack awoke early, stretched and ran his hand over his three-day growth of stubble. Yup, this was the life. These were the times that retirement seemed like a really great idea. Spending all his time at his cabin sounded very appealing. But then there were the Ori and the Lucien alliance to consider. And since he was sure that they had no plans for retirement neither could he.

He had a lumberjack's breakfast waiting for Teal'c by the time he arose. After stuffing themselves with pancakes and sausage, they spent several hours fishing. This time, a catch eluded both of them. Teal'c stood up and hauled in his line.

"I believe I will sauna, O'Neill."

"I'm going to stay out here a little while longer. I can't let you go home with the best fish story." Jack said as he baited his hook. Teal'c took his leave and Jack concentrated on perfecting his wrist motion to attract a fish.

After about an hour of jigging and Jack considered hanging it up, there was a tug on the line. A gentle one at first, then another. Then a genuine pull and Jack yanked back, setting the hook. The fish fought admirably but Jack was determined. When he pulled the trout up through the hole, he was amazed at the length of it. He carefully laid it on the ice and grabbed the measuring tape. Twenty-seven inches! And no one else with him to see it! He prepared to put it on the stringer and then stopped. He watched the exhausted fish's gills expand, straining to find oxygen. Jack sighed, pulled the needle-nose pliers from the tackle box and took the hook from its mouth. He placed it headfirst into the hole and gently waggled it back and forth by its tail. The muscular body strained against his grip and when he released it, it disappeared into the clear, dark water. He had been granted so many second chances in life, it only seemed right to release the fish. Crouching beside the hole, he rinsed his hands in the cold water and heard the door open behind him.

"Hey, T, you missed it. I just threw a lunker back. It had to be at least thirty inches!" he exclaimed as he stood and turned.

The blow to the left side of his face staggered him backwards. Hands grabbed the front of his jacket, spun him around and propelled him out of the fish house. The surface of the lake rushed up and he smashed his nose against the unforgiving surface.

Someone growled, "I'll teach you to interfere in my business."

Jack pushed himself up with his arms and saw drops of crimson dot the ice. He pulled his legs under himself and stood.

The man who had confronted him at the store took a step closer. "Thought you could hide from me, old man? You were really easy to follow. I could have finished you off yesterday alongside the road. I bet you ain't so tough without the "incredible hulk" backing you up."

Jack wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. He weighed the option of trying to reason with the guy and discarded it. Besides that crack about being an "old man" really pissed him off. He brought his hands up and motioned the man to bring it on.

The man rushed him, but this time Jack was ready. A solid punch to his midsection bent the man over. An uppercut knocked him flat on his ass.

Jack shook his right hand, trying to alleviate the stinging sensation both from the blow and the cold.

The man recovered quickly and they circled each other. Jack neatly avoided the wildly thrown punches by simply backing up. With a cry of rage, the man charged him, head down. They hit the ice hard with the man pummeling Jack on both sides of his body. They rolled, locked in combat. O'Neill wasn't sure why he heard it, especially through the grunts of exertion and the sounds of blows finding their mark. But it was there, a warning crackle, then a frightening crack. At the same instant, Jack realized the other man heard it too, because they both stopped fighting. His opponent scrambled to his feet.

"Don't stand up!" Jack yelled.

But it was too late; the ice gave way around them. The frigid water engulfed them. Jack's training kicked in immediately and he concentrated on keeping himself from gasping and inhaling water which would lead to quickly drowning. It was almost impossible to not hyperventilate in the freezing water. He knew that if he remained calm, and let the shock pass, he'd have time to get out. If the other man knew any of this, it wasn't evident as he thrashed and flailed his arms.

"Stop moving and relax!" Jack yelled.

Not surprisingly, the man didn't listen. Jack moved behind him and used his feet to give him a mighty shove on his back, propelling him towards the edge of the broken ice. He was able to grab on and tried to haul himself up.

"No," Jack ordered. "Kick your feet."

This time he did listen and was able to push himself up on the ice.

"Roll away and then crawl. Don't stand," Jack said as he treaded water. "I need to get out the same place you did, the ice is solid there."

The man didn't move, just laid huffing and puffing face-down on the lake.

Jack made his way over to the edge and began kicking. He couldn't have predicted what happened next. The man rolled over onto his back and there wasn't time enough for Jack to dodge the boot that slammed into his head.

This time he went completely under. He fought to regain the surface and was thankful that the layers of clothing and his down jacket gave him some buoyancy. When he bobbed up, he saw the man taking flight back to the shore. Jack again grasped the edge, trying to steady his breathing. By now, he had been in the water several minutes, but there was still plenty of time to get out. He pulled himself out of the water as far as he could and started kicking. Maybe it was the fact that he had taken a few punches, maybe it was the fact that he had gone under, and that last blow to his head certainly hadn't helped, but all his energy was being siphoned off by the cold water. Kick as he might, he couldn't get any farther up, the water's icy fingers grabbing and pulling him back. At that moment he knew he wouldn't be getting out on his own.

He made one more effort to get his arms and shoulders onto the ice and succeeded. If he became unconscious from the cold and slipped back into the water, death by drowning was a certainty. But if he could stay up on the ice, it was possible to survive about an hour before succumbing to hypothermia. His hope was that his arms would freeze to the ice, keeping the upper part of his body from going under.

Another hour, surely by then Teal'c would come looking for him. Yeah, he could wait until then. He reminded himself that he was getting better at waiting. Yeah, he could stick around, bide his time, cool his heels. He almost broke out in hysterical laughter at that one. He was way past being cool on every part of his body. His head sank closer to the ice. He just needed to close his eyes and rest, just for a minute.

"O'Neill!!"

He forced his head up and saw Teal'c standing at a distance, coiling something in his hands.

"You must catch this and put it around you," the Jaffa said.

All Jack could do was nod. He caught the orange extension cord on Teal'c's second throw and struggled to secure the loop across his back and behind his elbows. No way would he be able to hold on with just his hands.

"Are you ready, O'Neill?"

Jack nodded again and in a moment he was pulled from the water and dragged across the rough ice toward his friend. Teal'c removed the cord and had to pry it out of O'Neill's all but frozen fingers. The Jaffa hauled him to his feet.

"Can you walk?"

Jack tried to shuffle forward. Teal'c simply picked him up in a fireman's carry and took off for shore. Teal'c carried him to the cabin's bathroom, and threw open the door to the sauna. Jack felt himself being gently placed on one of the benches. One of Teal'c's huge hands rested on his chest to prevent him from falling over while he used the other to turn on the sauna's heater.

"This should heat quickly, O'Neill, I only used it just a short time ago." The Jaffa remained crouched in front of him. "You will need to get out of those wet clothes if you are to get warm."

"K-k-k-now that," Jack chattered back. He tried to force his hands to find the zipper pull of his jacket and shivering uncontrollably, failed.

"Do you need assistance?" Teal'c asked.

Leave it to Teal'c to at least try to preserve some of his dignity by asking.

Jack nodded. With amazing speed, the Jaffa yanked off his hat, jacket, sweater and undershirt. The boots and socks went next. The jeans were more of a problem. The wet heavy denim had molded itself to Jack's lower body. Teal'c disappeared for a moment and returned with a knife. Expertly he slit the jeans on the outside seams of both legs and peeled them away. When it came to do the same thing with Jack's boxers, Jack closed his eyes. Somehow it just didn't seem as embarrassing if he wasn't watching Teal'c during the maneuver. He kept them closed also as Teal'c dried him with warm towels. In about fifteen minutes, the shivering had stopped and within an hour, with the help of warm liquids and the sauna, Jack was feeling pretty much himself. He learned that Teal'c had seen the other man come ashore. Seeing that the man was wet he went outside to render assistance. When Teal'c approached him the man took off running. Fortunately for Jack, the Jaffa didn't follow him but elected to investigate why he was running away from the lake.

Jack settled back on the couch with what had to be his tenth cup of coffee.

"Do you require a medical treatment?" Teal'c asked.

Jack had checked himself over. Nothing appeared frost bitten. "No but I think we probably need to go into town and talk to the police. That bastard has some serious anger management issues."

They did make their case to the local police and spent the rest of their time off away from the lake. Jack had had enough ice fishing for a while. As they drove back to Duluth, Teal'c initiated the conversation.

"How much do you weigh, O'Neill?"

Jack shot him a look. "The same as I did when was with SG1. Why?" Subconsciously he pulled his stomach muscles in.

"How much?" insisted Teal'c.

"One seventy, give or take a pound or two."

A very self-satisfied look crossed the Jaffa's face. "I shall look forward to telling my fish story to ColonelCarter and DanielJackson."

"And what does that have to do with my weight?"

"Did I not pull a one hundred seventy five pound catch from the lake?"

***

Epilogue:

It was a warm May day in Washington and Jack had just come home from another marathon meeting. He slipped out his uniform jacket as he sorted through his mail. A picture postcard with salutation of "Visit Beautiful Ely Minnesota" caught his eye. That had been an interesting trip. The police had no luck identifying the man who had left him to die on the lake. It bothered Jack that the guy was still on the loose. But he wasn't surprised. The wilderness of the Boundary Waters and nearby Canada could easily accommodate someone who didn't want to be found.

He flipped the card over and saw that it was actually addressed to a Mr. T. Ealc, in care of Jack O'Neill at Jack's address.

The card read:

Congratulations Mr. Ealc,

You are the winner of this year's "Ice out" contest. The vehicle broke through the ice on April 26th at 2:00 pm. Your guess of April 26th at 12:00 pm was the closest. A gift certificate valued at $100.00 is waiting for you at our store. Please remember to stop by and see us the next time you visit Ely.

Best regards,

The Great Outdoors

Damn, the guy is lucky, Jack thought. Then again, he was probably the lucky one. Damn lucky to have someone pull his ass out of the fire and the occasional frozen lake. Damn lucky to have a friend like Teal'c.

The End