Notes: Thanks for the comments (I answer them all if I'm given the means to do so!) and I'm amazed at how many people have this on story alert. Hopefully, you'll enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. This will likely be my last for a while as I've got some script deadlines I'm forcing myself to meet.

There will be a flashback in every chapter and they should be esaily recognizable in italics.


Chapter 1

The conference room he'd seen every day for the better part of eight years bustled with an electrified air as airmen of varying ranks worked single-mindedly at their assigned stations. Sergeant Harriman thrust a folder into his hand the moment he materialized in the room further forcing Jack to concede the man must have eyes in the back of his head.

"What the hell happened?" Jack demanded and the silence descended throughout the room so quickly that one could have heard the smallest pin hit the carpeted floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed Landry hurry out of his office.

"Jack, with me, please."

Jack didn't spare the rest of the room another glance as he followed the current head of the SGC into his not so very sound proof office.

"Hank, what the hell happened out there?" Jack demanded before the door had even clicked shut. Behind him, he noticed the occupants of the conference room quickly turn back to their work.

"We're questioning everyone right now but it appears-"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Questioning whom?"

Landry indicated the folder Jack held with a nod of his head. Jack flipped it open and quickly scanned the page. He'd never before in his life read a preliminary briefing report so quickly.

"She had everyone transported off?" It was just like her to sacrifice herself for her people. He ground his teeth so tightly they began to hurt. Wonder where she'd learned that from?

Landry nodded solemnly. "Everyone but enough crew to help keep the primary systems operational."

Jack scanned the list of names on the sheet and then flipped the folder closed. "I want to speak to Captain Randall."

Landry nodded. "In a minute."

Jack clenched the folder tightly. "What else is going on?"

"We've got the Sun Tzu on high alert. The Apollo is returning early from its diplomatic escort and we've sent word to the Daedalus to get back as soon as possible."

"Is there any indication that there is an incoming threat to Earth?" Jack flipped open the folder again thinking he'd missed something.

"Not yet but you know a few different factions out there have been looking for a weapon strong enough to take on Earth."

"We haven't heard hide nor hair of the Lucian Alliance since their ships were blown to hell over Icarus." Jack felt a twinge of annoyance at the thought. They'd lost a lot of good people that day. And 80 plus were still trapped on a dilapidated Ancient ship with very little hope they would ever make it home. "There's no one else out there with enough balls to take us on right now."

"No one that we know of," Landry confirmed. "But that doesn't mean some new enemy hasn't popped up."

"They do have that annoying habit," Jack muttered.

"The Pentagon wants our alert status raised anyway – just in case," Landry continued.

Jack hadn't stopped by his office before being transported to the mountain but he'd been at his job long enough to know what the higher-ups probably thought of the surprise attack on their newest battle cruiser.

"World leaders are being notified as we speak."

Jack flipped open the folder again, smothered his annoyance and muttered, "That's my job."

"The President thought you should be here."

Their eyes met over the folder in Jack's hand, unspoken communication and understanding wordlessly passing between the two.

****

Jack scrubbed his hands over his face and heaved a huge sigh just as Daniel rushed into the room.

"Jack! I just heard! What can I do?"

"There's nothing any of us can do right now, Daniel." There was a defeated sound to his voice that he didn't even try to hide. Daniel's eyes narrowed but Jack couldn't find it in himself to care.

"There has to be something-"

"Daniel."

Predictably, the younger man stood his ground. "Jack."

"Daniel, enough." His patience had frayed long ago but he'd held it together, mostly, as he questioned the highest ranking officer who'd been beamed down to the nearest planet with the rest of the crew.

"It sounds like you've already given up." The accusation in Daniel's tone wasn't lost on Jack.

"There's pretty overwhelming evidence that the ship was destroyed with all remaining hands on board."

The wind instantly vanished from Daniel's sails and he sank into the chair opposite Jack's borrowed desk. Landry had left a while ago to speak with his people.

"What happened? Everyone's being pretty tight-lipped other than we're apparently on high alert because our latest and greatest ship has been blown out of the sky by some unidentifiable enemy."

"According to Captain Randall, they were checking out a lead on the stranded Icarus team, when they came under attack by an unidentified ship." Jack leaned back in his chair to stretch his long limbs but the motion didn't help the tension permanently tightening his muscles.

Daniel, to Jack's complete surprise, listened without saying a word.

"They tried to communicate, but the ship just opened fire. It was big, Randall said, real big." Jack didn't want to repeat what he'd been told, but it was strangely cathartic to talk to Daniel about it all. "The Hammond was far more maneuverable, but the weapons eventually got through their shields before they could jump into hyperspace. They limped as quickly as they could to the closest planet with a Stargate and Sam beamed everyone she could off the ship."

Jack took a deep breath and steadied himself for his next words. "Just before they dialed earth, Randall and everyone else saw a ship explode in the upper atmosphere."

Daniel shook his head immediately. "But that doesn't mean it was Sam. She could have destroyed the other ship and-"

"Daniel."

Daniel struck Jack silent with a wave of his hand. "No Jack. It could be-"

"Don't you think I've hoped? She'd be back by now, or there would have been some word." The red phone rang and the two men glanced sharply at it. "I need to take this."

Daniel stood, discouraged. "Yeah."

Jack closed his eyes as Daniel left the office and pulled the phone off its cradle. "Yes Sir, I've got a preliminary report for you."

****

Jack stared at the photo of himself and Sam taken on one of their last trips up to the cabin. Before the shit had hit the fan with Atlantis and the Wraith, before she'd taken her shiny new ship out to escort an irritating Senator and geek genius to Icarus, before that mission had turned into search and rescue after the so called secret based had been attacked, before their lives had once again taken them in opposite directions.

The lake and large green trees served as a perfect natural backdrop for the photo. The fresh, crisp, clean air and even a multitude of mosquitoes were in natural, relaxing abundance. And she was sporting the biggest, widest grin he'd ever seen as he stood behind her, chin buried in her neck, and arms wrapped possessively around her slim waist.

She'd had a lot to be smiling about, and so did he for that matter, because, after numerous proposals and nearly a week at the cabin with just him for company and entertainment, she'd finally agreed to marry him.

He could tell she was bored. Well, not so much bored, but that overactive brain of hers didn't have enough to think about. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her sunbathe on his deck clad only in the skimpiest of suits she'd insisted on wearing even though there was no one around for miles.

He sat in his comfortable chair beside her, a chilled bottle of beer in one hand and a fishing pole in another. He repeatedly cast his line and then reeled it in slowly, glancing often toward the unbelievably hot woman stretched out beside him.

She was reading, or pretending to, since she hadn't turned the page in at least ten minutes.

"So . . ." Jack began. "I've been thinking."

"Those are the most dangerous words you've ever uttered," came an immediate monotone response. It brought a smile to his lips anyway.

"Yes, well, we should get married."

There was a pregnant pause and then she closed her book, not even checking what page she'd been on and slowly lifted her eyes to his.

"What?"

Jack shrugged and lifted the bottle o his lips. "You heard me."

She rolled onto her side, facing him completely now. "No, I really think I didn't."

"Marry me. It's not a hard question to answer, Carter."

He could see a hint of amusement on her face. "Was it a question?"

Jack shrugged. "Not really."

"Passing comment, then?" Her tone was light, and the smile spreading slowly across her face lifted the uncertainty that had been weighing heavily on his chest since he'd mentioned the word. It'd been decades since he'd last uttered it and though he'd thought about it a lot in the last few years, he'd never asked her.

"Couldn't get away with making it an order, could I?"

Sam tilted her head back and stretched teasing him to near distraction. "Not likely."

Jack cast his line and watched the little ball bobble on the surface of the water. Before he could twist the handle to roll in the line, her hand slid into his.

"We're okay as we are, you know."

The assurance made him smile at the little ball bobbing in the gently rippling water. Of course they were okay. More than okay, really.

"Jack?"

His eyes shifted and the weight returned, clenching so tightly he was afraid to breathe. "Yeah?" He really was too old for this kind of stress.

"Were you asking me?"

He really was. "Yeah."

"Then don't you think you should pay attention when I give you my answer?"

Jack tried to nonchalantly reply to the teasing tone with one of his own. "I figured I'd be waiting for a few weeks, actually."

In the silence that followed, Jack figured she was either going to hit him or kiss him. Thankfully, she knew him well, even though he knew she was trying to put up an offended façade – unless that murderous look on her face was how she truly felt about the teasing comment really said in jest – mostly.

The silence stretched on and the weight pressing in on his chest settled like a lead brick in his stomach.

"That was cold," she finally said, eyes firmly locked on his.

His brain registered that she'd scooted closer and that she continued to do so, but that nagging worry in the back of his mind that he'd just messed this up wouldn't go away – until she'd climbed into his lap and draped her arms atop his shoulders.

Jack winced. Yeah. It was. He should apologize. He opened his mouth to do just that as her hips shifted and settled her bikini-clad bottom tightly against his groin. He struggled to maintain focus as his body instantly responded to the smooth heat pressed so intimately against him.

"Uh. Yeah. It was." Jack was impressed with himself. He'd gotten the words out, even if they'd been reduced to one syllable each.

"Was what, Jack?" she purred as she leaned closer, her breath hot against his mouth.

"Cold, Sam. Real . . ." A tremor raced down his spine that had nothing whatsoever to do with the weather. "Cold."

She rubbed her hips tightly against his and dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth before climbing completely out of his lap.

He stared at her unable to form a single coherent word. His body tingled from her touch and he was grateful he'd worn loose fitting pants.

"Jack?"

He blinked and looked stupidly up the long, pale skin of her neverending legs to her perfectly proportioned torso, ample bosom illegally covered by a thin scrap of material, to finally settle on her beautiful, carefully-schooled, expressionless face.

"Yeah?" he answered. One syllable again. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the growing tightness of his formerly lose pants and the smile spreading slowly across her lovely face.

"The next time you decide to light that match, you'd better be prepared to douse the resulting fire."

Jack blinked and watched in stunned silence as she scooped her towel off the wooden dock and walked, hips swaying to some indiscernible tune, back toward the cabin.

When he finally recovered control over his mouth, he leaned over the chair, fishing pole and beer forgotten and called, "Was that a yes?!"

What followed was some of the most intense, passionate sex that he'd ever experienced – and would certainly never forget.

Jack resisted the urge to reach out and touch the photo. Instead, he leaned back in his very expensive chair and closed his eyes. He'd had a permanent headache since he'd been woken to that phone call every significant other of a serviceman or woman learned to dread.

They hadn't quite been listed as killed in action yet, but with the reports from the survivors all referencing the explosion they'd seen from the ground, Sam's status as MIA would likely soon be changed.

He hadn't called Mark yet. He wanted to wait and hope that Sam's unusual flair for getting herself and her team out of trouble would come through again. It hadn't so far and after a week of searching, he'd started to accept that she wouldn't be coming back.

A knock on his closed door startled him and he picked up the frame and quickly placed it back in its place on the antique wooden credenza behind his desk.

"Come," he said a bit too sharply to even his own ears. But his staff was used to him and if they took offense, he really didn't care.

"Sir?" Davis poked his head around the chestnut-hued wood. "They're ready."

"Wonderful," Jack stood, straightened his uniform jacket and picked up the folder with the latest reports. "Another fun day with the IOA demanding answers we don't have to give."

Davis nodded in understanding. "Yes, sir."

"Bastards don't even care about the lives lost and -," Jack swallowed, struggling to keep control over his own emotions. He brought them into check quickly enough though he was sure Davis had noticed. He would, as always, deal with those emotions in private. "- those left behind to deal with that loss." He snapped an additional report out of Davis' hand and flipped it open to read as they walked. "They just want a justification as to why their multi-billion dollar state of the art ship has been blown into itty bitty pieces."

"That's not right," Davis agreed and Jack couldn't bring himself to look at the man. The sympathy written all over his face would only inflame his temper even further – and Jack had a feeling the IOA was going to do that all on their very own today.

They stopped outside the conference room behind whose doors he'd conducted so many meetings with various International countries, the Joint Chiefs, the IOA, even the President of the United States. He stared at the ornate door with something akin to disgust before reaching for the handle. "Wish me luck."

"Luck, sir?"

"Yeah. That I don't lose my temper and commit homicide in there today."

Davis nodded, used to his boss' unique brand of humor. "Yes, sir. I'm glad they check us for firearms at the door."

Jack allowed a small smirk and swung open the door. He schooled a neutral expression onto his face as he was greeted by not only the head of the Joint Chiefs, the highest ranking members of the IOA whom he despised with every fiber of his being, but the President of the United States himself.

TBC