Paul was working away in his office at the Pentagon, same as usual, when he stopped.
He stared at the computer in front of him, typing a report, and slowly turned his chair away. He stood up and walked over to his window.
It was gloriously sunny out today, and everything looked fresh and green and hopeful. The sight of the simplistic splendor took some of the weight of the battle against the Goa'uld off the Major's shoulders, and he smiled gratefully.
He felt happy. Happy to be alive. But he wasn't quite sure why.
Casting a final look outside, Paul smiled again.
"Thank you," he said, although he didn't know for sure just who he was directing the words at.
Major Paul Davis turned back around and returned to his work.