The house wasn't all that big, but it was guarded like Fort Knox – even more so, really. There were four heavily armed people outside the perimeter, each watching the surrounding area carefully, although they didn't really expect trouble. It was just habit. And the fact that one of the people in the house was their sole responsibility.

Inside the house, aware of the security but used to it by now, Samantha O'Neill leaned back into the sofa and took another sip of her tea, enjoying a little peace and quiet. Something she rarely had nowadays.

"You're really going to send her to camp?"

Janet smiled from her seat across from her best friend.

"Why not? You sent Jake."

"He's older."

"You're going to send Nia."

"Jack's making me."

Janet snorted, amused. Jack O'Neill hadn't actually made Sam do anything in a long time. Not since he stopped being her commanding officer. She was sending her daughter to camp for the same reason Janet was sending hers. Camp was fun. And camp Millcreek was an integral part of the lives of those who had been there.

"Emmett wants her to go. And I agree."

Sam smiled.

"Then her and-"

"Excuse me…?"

Both women turned at the deferential knock on the door and the soft interruption. It was one of the Secret Service agents who had traveled with Sam to Colorado – and traveled everywhere else she went as well.

"You have a call, Ma'am," he said, bringing her his cell phone.

Sam smiled.

"Sam. Not 'Ma'am'. "

"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry."

She rolled her eyes; the Secret Service guys (and women) were great, but they were so formal – even after so many years. It drove Sam nutty, sometimes. She took the phoned from him.

"Hello?"

The smile faded immediately, and to Janet's surprise – and concern – tears welled in Sam's eyes, and had to try twice before she could speak. And even then it was a hoarse, barely recognizable sound.

"Where is he?"

There was a slight pause as the person on the other line answered, and Sam nodded, brushing away tears that were replaced instantly with others.

"I'll be right there…"

She blindly handed the phone to the Secret Service agent, and broke down into helpless tears. Janet was instantly at her side.

"Sam? What is it?"

"I have to get home. Now."

"Is it Jack?"

She shook her head, sniffing, and the Secret Service agent handed her his handkerchief, which she took with a soundless nod of thanks.

"It's Jaffer."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Jack…"

She'd left him alone in the room for almost twenty minutes. Long enough to make a few calls, and for her to confer with the head of Jack's Secret Service escort.

She'd returned to find him in the exact same position he'd been in when she'd left; cradling Jaffer's still body like a child clutching a security blanket about to be taken away to be washed. Only in Jack's case, he knew the moment he let go it was going to be permanent.

Not surprisingly, he didn't answer, his face buried in Jaffer's neck, the once silky fur now soaked with Jack's tears, and lifeless.

She walked over and rested her hand lightly on his shoulder, and could feel his sobs, even though she couldn't hear them, and it broke her heart all over again.

"Jack… you need to let him go."

He shook his head, but didn't answer, and Monica pulled on his shoulder slightly, intending to give him a slight nudge in the direction he needed to go. He didn't move.

"Jack…"

"I can't…"

It was a heartbroken sound, and even more; Monica knew that he was telling the truth. He literally couldn't let go. She'd seen it before with people who were particularly close to their pets – although she'd never seen a bond like Jack and Jaffer shared – and Monica let go of his shoulder and stood close to him, giving him what little support she could while he cried. Some people needed more time, and she'd called someone who might be able to get through to him better than she was able. She'd support him until he arrived. It was all she could do.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Look. I'm going to tell you this one time, and one time only. You're here to learn, so get your head out of your ass and pay attention to me. I want you to pretend – you can pretend, can't you? – that we just came through the stargate – that's the big round thing there in front of us in case you didn't know – and there are seven Jaffa standing in front of us who want nothing more than to blow the shit out of you. Now what are you going to do?"

The young man nodded is head so hard that those watching were surprised it didn't fall off his neck, and he started to bring up the P90 in his hand – when suddenly the gate behind them started to activate.

"Shit!"

Ian Brooks reached out and yanked the youngster off the ramp, pulling him backwards to the only cover in the area – a small mound of dirt that was all that remained of a wall that had once surrounded the stargate. At the same time, he reached for his Glock with his free hand as those with him all raised their own weapons.

The planet was supposed to be relatively safe – but you never knew.

The gate flared, and everyone tensed, waiting to see who emerged from the event horizon. And waited a little longer.

"Colonel Brooks? This is Doctor Weir…"

Ian scowled, putting his gun back in its holster and reaching for his communications device.

"We're trying to do some training, Doctor Weir…"

Which translated into 'this had better be important…'

Weir didn't even hesitate – and she certainly didn't sound apologetic.

"We need you to return, Colonel. Something's… come up. It's important."

"What is it, Doctor Weir. We're pretty busy-"

"Now, Colonel!"

The connection went dead, and the stargate disengaged, leaving Ian with a thunderous scowl on his face – and a group of youngsters who didn't dare say a word. His temper was well known – and even the newest of them could tell he was angry. Of course, there were two people in this entire side of the universe who could tell him what to do, and Weir was one of them, so angry or not, they were pretty sure that was the end of their training day.

"Bennett!"

"Sir?"

"Dial Atlantis."

They were all careful to stand well clear of him as the stargate was dialed, and when he gestured for them to precede him, they all practically ran up the small ramp.

"Well, you've certainly made your mark on them."

Ian scowled, and headed for the gate.

"Shut up, McKay."

He stepped through the event horizon and a moment later found himself walking into the control room of the Ancient city of Atlantis. And stopped. Standing in the middle of the room, being watched carefully by a large contingent of armed soldiers – and by Weir, who was standing at the top of the stairs beside Colonel Sheppard – was the last person Ian might have expected to see.

"Chelani."

The Ancient smiled.

"You remember me."

Ian scowled.

"What are you doing here?"

The smile faded instantly.

"We need your help, Ian Brooks."