---

The air outside was cold, but it was Teal'c's first football game, so they dealt with it. Besides, it was a good time to ask an important question.

"Hey, Carter?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does…he…know about you guys?"

"He?"

"You know. The other me."

"Oh. Him. Uh…no."

"How come?"

"…Well, we…they…whatever…didn't think…he wouldn't approve."

"What makes you think that?"

"Jack, you didn't approve and we did it for you."

"And him. Sort of. I came around. Why shouldn't he?"

"It's different."

"How?"

"It just is."

On the field, Teal'c took down another guy. Hard. Hard enough that people winced.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Carter?"

"You did explain to Teal'c that football isn't actually battle, right?"

"…I'm pretty sure he got the point. I think."

"Oh, boy."

---

Strangely, now that he wasn't caught up in being miserable, Jack found himself sort of enjoying his classes. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. But it was sort of…fun. Sure, it was stuff he had probably learned before, but he hadn't really paid much attention to secondary education the first time around, preoccupied with flying and fighting because even back then, he knew where he was supposed to be.

Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, high school had been a long time ago for him, so he honestly didn't remember a lot of it. So it was pretty easy to just pretend that this was the first time around, and ignore Daniel's indulgent smile when he actually exhibited a moderate amount of enthusiasm for it all.

He could let Daniel get away with that sort of thing now because for every patronizing look Space Monkey sent him, Carter granted him a rather pleased one. So, in the end, it all balanced out. Besides, three weeks after they arrived, Daniel discovered the wonder of books on tape, and quickly got involved in trying to learn whatever obscure languages he didn't already speak. This week, it was Farsi. Which made Jack smirk, because wouldn't Danny-boy just keel over if he found out that Jack already knew that one?

Absently, he noted that Daniel's pronunciation sucked.

They were all lazing about in a field behind the school, waiting for football practice to be over. It had become routine—they couldn't leave Teal'c by himself quite yet (he had a tendency to say slightly startling things to the average bystander), and besides, it was still warm outside and they were accustomed to spending large amounts of time outdoors together.

But it was different now. No more semi-automatics, routine patrols, or soil samples. Just Daniel leaning against a tree with his headphones on, muttering after his tape, Carter stretched out on the grass with her head propped up on her backpack (checking over their homework), and Jack, with his head resting comfortably on Carter's stomach of all places, after discovering a few days ago that she didn't mind. It had been weird for all of thirty seconds, until they had simply stopped letting it.

Jack was so not complaining. If he was completely honest with himself (something he had never been very good at but had been attempting lately) he'd have to admit that in recent years, cuddling with Sam had been a favorite fantasy. Right behind doing…other things…with Sam. Hey, he had been an old man, and he had been alone a long time. Some days, you came home and wanted to just…be…with someone. For him, just anyone wouldn't do. And because it wasn't allowed to be her, he had stamped out the craving.

Now, it was allowed. Hell, now everything was allowed. They hadn't talked about it, of course. They didn't do that, even now. (Though they were working on it. Kinda.) This was as far as things had gone, and he was okay with that, too. Because with the warmth of her stomach and the early fall sun seeping into him as he paged through Hamlet, her eyes occasionally looking down her body towards him, he was perfectly content.

God, he really hoped he could blame the sappiness on his adolescent brain chemistry. Somehow, he doubted it. But that was okay, too.

From his position against the tree, Daniel butchered a sentence. Jack smirked.

"Stop it," Carter chastised lightly.

He smiled. "Can't help it. He's making a mess of it." He didn't know how she knew that he spoke Farsi in the first place, but found he didn't really care.

"You could always help him."

"Nah. It's too much fun to hear him get it wrong."

He didn't look, but he knew, just knew, that she was rolling her eyes at him. He didn't care about that either. Apparently, complacency was another symptom of…young age. He just turned back to the Bard, and when her hand came up and ruffled through his hair, he couldn't stop it.

He smirked again.

---

"Whose idea was it?"

"Whose idea was what?"

"You know. The clone thing."

"Oh. That again. Does it matter?"

"I don't know, Carter. Maybe. So, who was it?"

She blinked and shifted her weight slightly.

"…You know, I never really got what was so great about that play."

"Very unsubtle change of subject, Sam. But seriously, you don't get Hamlet? It's classic."

"So people keep telling me. Literature was never my strong suit. But I mean, it's an entire play about a slightly whiny, indecisive type who talks too much but rarely says anything. His family all dies, he can't follow some very good advice, he contemplates suicide and possibly goes insane. Or not. It's all very confusing."

"…Huh."

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just…"

"What?"

"…Daniel is Hamlet."

"…Don't be ridicu…huh."

They glanced at Daniel.

"Puts a whole new perspective on the thing."

"I'd say."

Silence. Crickets. Grunting football players.

"…Jack?"

"Sam?"

"It was me."

"I know. Thanks."

"Yeah."

---

After awhile, Jack just gave up thinking about it. All it managed to do was give him a headache, and at some point he had moved beyond self-flagellation. It was too complicated to try and figure out. He was living in the present, but his present was also his past, and maybe his future was in his past, but it wasn't really his past because it was the present and it was different than the past…it just kept going around like that. Sam was right, time was really all relative, and it wasn't until now that he really began to comprehend all the possible problems that statement covered. Somehow, he didn't think that Carter could manage to explain this one with fruit, either. Though maybe someday, he'd ask her to try.

Right now, he had actually just decided to…let it be. They had been here a month and they weren't going anywhere and even if Jack didn't understand it, he accepted it now. He was 52, he was 15. It didn't really matter anymore. He just was, and that was what mattered.

So, eight weeks after he had left himself on the curb of South Colorado Springs High School, Jack O'Neill was a teenage leviathan. Teal'c was a football hero, Daniel a teacher's pet, and Sam the object of teenage lust. And Jack still led them, just not quite like before. Now there was football instead of skirmishes, Hamlet instead of artifacts, and Carter's stomach instead of interminable angst.

It was a good life.

So he didn't worry so much about how it all worked or what it all meant or even what would come next. Because there were more pressing issues to deal with, like trying to convince them all to dress up for Halloween, passing Friday's chemistry test, and laughing his ass off when the homecoming theme was announced as 'A Walk Through The Stars'.

He'd never underappreciate a good bit of irony again.

---

"So, how about it Carter? Wanna go on 'A Walk Through The Stars' with me?"

"I thought we had already done that, sir."

Really, she had it almost down. Just not quite.

"Sam."

"Right. Sorry." She wrinkled her nose. "Habit."

"I know, I know. So…?"

"…You're serious?"

"Well…yeah. Sure. Why not?"

"I don't know. It just seems so…I don't know…juvenile, I guess."

"Look in the mirror, Sam. We are juveniles."

"Still. I hadn't really thought…it would be something you'd want to do."

He shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Hey, dancing to bad music and mocking cheap decorations. And no dress blues. Could be worse."

"Sure. I just hadn't planned on going. But I mean, if you really want to, I wouldn't mind…"

"Good!" Relief. Giddiness. Sappy again. Damnit. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you kinda have to go."

"What? Why?"

"…Carter, you're on Homecoming Court."

"…WHAT!"