SLAM! The door to the men's restroom, carelessly shoved open, came around and hit Sgt. Siler smack in the nose, breaking his glasses. The man cried out and staggered backwards.

Jack felt simultaneously angry and guilty. "Ah, jeez! Siler, when you gonna quit standing on the wrong side of doors?" He picked up the broken pieces of the glasses and handed them to the man.

Siler acted as though he had almost gotten used to being hurt. He was unofficially the base klutz...well, it was a toss-up between him and Felger. At least Siler was the only one who was hurt when he made a mistake. "Sorry, sir." He pulled his hand away from his nose, unsurprised but annoyed to see blood.

The General cringed. "Get down to the Infirmary, will you?"

"Yes, sir." Siler pinched his nostrils shut and made his way down the hall.

Jack shook his head. Pay attention, idiot, he berated himself as he made his way to the Commissary. It had been a long five days...the longest in Jack's life.

Despite being off the sedative for a good six days, Sam had still not awakened. Dr. Brightman was completely stumped as to the reason and tried everything to awaken her, from gentle shaking to smelling salts. Nothing worked. Worried, the doctor had ordered every brain and spinal scan known the mankind. They had turned up nothing. The almost constant dreaming continued without any explanation. The only good news to come out of the situation was that Sam's wounds were healing well.

Of course the doctor wasn't the only one to worry. Daniel and Teal'c saw her in shifts, never leaving her alone except when her bandages were changed. Half the base knew her, or at least knew of her. Questions about her condition were asked on a daily basis. Very few answers were given because there were very few to be had.

In that time the new printer had arrived in Jack's office, which was used the minute it was set up. After that, Jack's office was all but deserted. Mission reports once more began to pile up. Briefings were late, non-essential appointments cancelled. Between 70 and 80% of Jack's time was spent in the Infirmary with Sam. He couldn't explain it, but he felt he had to be there when she woke up...and despite the doubts of everyone else, including the doctor, Jack knew Sam was going to wake up. He had no reasons for his logic. He just knew.

Sam dreamed on, oblivious not only to her injuries but the concern generated on her behalf.

Plunk! The impaled rubber nightcrawler sails through the air in a perfect arc before landing in the water of the small woodland pond with a tiny splash. It is followed by a series of lead sinkers and a red-and-white float. Slowly the lot of it is reeled in with a characteristic rattle-ring sound.

Fishing...on paper it didn't sound all that relaxing, but as Sam sits casually on her folding chair on the end of the short dock in Northern Minnesota next to her superior officer, she realizes that this is all she's ever wanted...not necessarily the fishing part, but coming to this place with Jack, giving in to his years of begging. A vacation is just what she needs after the death of her father, the eradication of a galactic threat, and the end of her ill-fated relationship with Pete Shanahan.

"This is great," she says softly.

"I told you," says Jack without any of the usual sarcasm or smugness. He sounds as relaxed as she is.

"We should have done this years ago."

"Yes, well...let's not dwell."

A large rainbow trout leaps into the air about a hundred yards away, making both of them flinch and jump.

Sam blinks, worried for a minute. "I thought you said there were no fish in your pond."

Jack has no such worries. What matters to him is that he is finally sitting here in a place that he loves with the woman he loves. "Close enough," he shrugs.

Sam manages smile. Whether or not fish live in a pond probably won't destroy the space-time continuum. She turns back to her fishing pole and begins reeling it in. Between the quiet, the scenery, the fresh air, and the fact she is sharing a cabin with a man she loves, it's almost perfect. The only thing that would make it perfect is if they were alone...but that can't happen. Jack is still her superior officer. It's still inappropriate.

Teal'c and Daniel round the corner with a large green cooler hanging between them. Sam pushes aside her thoughts and decides just to enjoy the next three days...

Jack saw Sam smiling in her sleep and wondered, once again, what she was dreaming about. It must have been a good dream this time. He noticed how even her heart rate was and relaxed. If Daniel was not due to return from lunch at any minute, Jack would have leaned over and kissed Sam's cheek.

If he'd just turn in those darned resignation papers, he'd be able to. They sat in his hands, neat and tidy and ready to go in an addressed manila envelope. No one knew his plans. Frankly, it was none of their business.

"How's she doing?" Daniel, as if on cue, rounded the corner, hands in his pockets.

"No change," mumbled Jack. He stared at his hands.

"What's with the envelope?" Daniel wanted to know.

Jack cringed, but figured he did look kind of strange sitting in the Infirmary with a large, very conspicuous envelope in his hands. "Oh. That." He set it down on Sam's bedside table. Maybe if he distanced himself from it enough...

Daniel, curious, craned his neck and squinted. "'U.S. Air Force, Pentagon. Washington D.C'," he read, frowning. "Must be pretty important."

Jack sighed and stared at the floor. He was tired of making excuses, and Daniel knew how he felt anyway. "It's my resignation."

Daniel pulled his hands out of his pockets as a set of sandy eyebrows shot up. "Really. You're...you're resigning...?"

Jack shrugged.

"As in, leaving the Stargate program?"

"The Air Force."

"Wow. Why?"

Jack said nothing but turned to look at Sam.

Daniel's shoulders fell in understanding and he nodded. "I see." He's leaving everything for her? He does love her. He turned the idea over in his mind for some time and found it didn't disturb him as much as he thought. "When are you leaving?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know...I'm not even sure yet that I will," he admitted.

The archeologist glanced at the envelope. "Well, you went to all the trouble of typing up the resignation and printing it out." His eyebrows knit and he crossed his arms. "Why aren't you sure?"

Jack's fingers steepled, interlaced, and fell limp before he spoke. "It's a lot to think about. Besides...I want to talk to her about it...make sure she's OK with it."

Daniel sighed with frustration. "Jack, you don't need her permission. It's not as if you're married."

"I know. But c'mon...if she's the reason, there's no point in leaving if she...doesn't...feel the same..."

"You're not sure?"

Wordlessly Jack shook his head. "I'm gonna wait 'till she wakes up."

A painful thought made Daniel grimace. "What if she doesn't?"

You had to mention that, didn't you? Jack turned to Daniel and glared. "She will." His voice faded as he returned his gaze to Sam. "She will..."