"The Ancient has successfully been extracted from our friend Todd," Daniel said, glancing down at his notes on the briefing room table. "It appears that my suspicions were correct. Because the Ancients tried to ascend before they were physiologically ready, they initially gained their superhuman powers but couldn't act without taking over a host body. And, since this is really no different than the practices of the Goa'uld taking a host or the wraith feeding on humans, the Ancients deleted all records and locked up the only remaining subject – Caelius – in a remote lab on Atlantis. Structural damage from collision with the mainland must have weakened the containment field."

"So," General Mitchell said from the head of the table, "do we know why he decided to take over Todd's body – or save Sheppard, for that matter?"

Daniel shrugged. "I think Todd was just in the right place at the right time – he was the closest to the lab when Caelius was let out. As to why he chose to save Colonel Sheppard, it's unclear as to whether that was Todd's decision or the Ancient's. I've talked to the colonel, and…" He exchanged a glance with Sheppard, who nodded him on. "He seems to have some idea. But we won't know until we talk more with Caelius."

"What are we going to do with him?" Woolsey asked.

"He's currently being held at Area 51. He's been cooperative so far, so I'd like to work with him a bit further, then we'll release him in whatever way seems fitting."

"And Todd?"

Sheppard spoke up. "I sent him off." He ignored Woolsey's momentary smirk of disapproval and asked, "Did we ever find out anything more about the Jawailans?"

"No," Rodney said. "All I could find in the database was their name and a note on their obsession with spheres.

"Ah, well," said General Mitchell, leaning back and propping his feet up on the table. "Looks like yet another successful mission. No more wraith, Ori, Goa'uld, crazy Priors, or even replicators. What next?"

"Don't jinx it, please," Carter joked.

"Fine, fine. You're all dismissed."

As the people began to file out, chitchatting eagerly, Mitchell pulled Sheppard back. "That was some good work you did out there, John."

"Thank you, sir. Just doing my job."

"Well, we'd like you to continue with that," Mitchell said with a grin. "I've had some conversations with my superiors at Homeworld Security."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows expectantly. "And?"

"We're willing to offer you any position you want." When Sheppard blinked, wordless, Mitchell continued, "There's a space open for head of SG-1, we need a permanent leader of Atlantis, there are even some spots in Washington opening up if you're so inclined."

Sheppard shook his head. "I don't want to make any decisions just yet."

Mitchell shrugged. "We'll wait. You, in the meantime, have definitely earned some time off."

"Thank you, sir."

"All right, then." Mitchell stood up, "Then I guess you're dismissed too."

"Yes, sir."

Mitchell eyed Sheppard warily. "Hey, Sheppard," he said, catching him before he left. "What was Jackson talking about – how you had an idea why the Ancient saved your life?"

Sheppard stopped, struggling to form words in a way that wouldn't suggest insanity. "I saw Elizabeth. Dr. Weir, I mean, on the Odyssey. Maybe I was just hallucinating because I thought I was going to die, but I saw her." Their silence was subdued, Sheppard staring out the window at the gate below and Mitchell leaning against the table. "Do you think she's still out there?"

Mitchell shrugged. "Anything's possible, especially in our world." Watching Sheppard pensively, he stood to leave, but added, "You did good, Sheppard."

…

"Knock, knock." Rodney appeared at the door, carrying a small bouquet of flowers. "How's the patient?"

Jennifer smiled. "Wishing I was treating people, not the other way around." She sat up in the hospital bed and took the bouquet. "Thank you, Rodney."

He shrugged. "What are husbands for?"

She set the flowers down on the bedside table and moved over to make room. "Sit."

He did as she said, taking one of her hands into his own. "What happened back there? When I heard that explosion, I thought you were dead."

"It was Todd."

He nodded. "I know, I know, the Ancient took over his body–"

"That's not it," she said seriously. "Todd… he saved my life."

Rodney scoffed.

"The lab was about to explode; he pushed me out of the way, Rodney. Why would he do that?"

He shook his head and gripped her hand a little tighter. "I don't know. Maybe he's not quite as heartless as we thought?"

Jennifer smiled, looking down quickly. "The thing is, he didn't just save my life… He saved two."

"He saved…" Rodney mouthed her words quickly. "He saved two… What?"

She smiled shyly. "I'm pregnant, Rodney. That's what I wanted to talk to you about the other day, but you were busy, and I thought –"

"What? You knew?! You came here, you let me put you in danger knowing you were pregnant?"

"I didn't know for sure –"

"You're a doctor!"

"I suspected," she shrugged, "but I didn't want you to pass up this opportunity because of me."

"We're having a baby," he said quietly. "Oh my God, we're having a baby! I have a kid! I'm a daddy!" His face fell. "Oh, no… I'm going to have to change diapers…"

Jennifer laughed. "Don't worry, Rodney. If it scares you that much, I'll change the diapers."

He shrugged sheepishly, then leaned in for an affectionate kiss. "I love you."

She grinned. "I know."

…

The men and women in the SGC gate room were solemn and dressed in her finest attire. One flag-draped casket, symbolic of all those lost in the battle against the Priors, wraith, and Jawailans, stood on the stargate walkway. Near the front stood Ronon and Rodney, faces downcast. And when the crowd had cleared, when even Ronon had gone, Rodney still remained in silent tribute, holding in his hand all that was left of William Lee – a small fragment of charred, tan-checked fabric from his shirt.

…

Walter sat next to a young woman at the command station. "No, you don't understand," he said. "When you get to chevron seven, you have to say 'locked.'"

"Why?" she asked.

"I don't know!" he said, waving his hands frustratedly. "You just do! You can't just say 'engaged' every time, you have to say 'locked!'"

"What's this?" Sheppard asked, the commotion drawing his attention as he passed by the SGC control room.

"Walter," Vala said, bouncing over to Sheppard's side, "is training a new recruit. He's retiring." She paused dramatically, an eager grin surfacing. "I believe a party is in order."

…

Colonel Carter walked into the restaurant, feeling almost out of place in her pale blue dress rather than customary BDUs. Standing on her tiptoes, she could just see her friends and coworkers in the back patio of the restaurant, but she ducked into the hallway by the restrooms first. She glanced in the mirror and smoothed her hair, which hung loose and wavy about her shoulders.

Just as she looked down at her watch, a pair of arms snaked around her waist and spun her around, silencing her protests with a kiss.

"Hi, sir," she said as her eyes fluttered open.

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Are you ever going to stop calling me that?"

"No, probably not," she said, beaming impishly. "It's good to see you."

O'Neill sighed dramatically, repositioning his hands still linked at the small of her back and feeling hers creep up to the lapels of his suit. "How did a fat old geezer like me get so lucky?" he mused, wistfulness only half mocking. "I turned in my paperwork today."

Her eyes widened. "I thought we were going to wait until the end of the year," she said, glancing around out of habit to make sure no one was listening.

"I've been ready for this for a long time now."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure," he said. "Since my fighting days are over, bureaucracy is about all they'll let me handle, and you know how I am with bureaucracy…"

"Jack, this is your job, your life we're talking about –"

"Not anymore," he said simply. "C'mere." Pulling her closer, he pressed his mouth to hers again and ended the conversation, feeling her smile beneath him.

"Woaho!" a loud voice suddenly sounded beside them. "This is a surprise!"

"Oh, for crying out loud," O'Neill mumbled into her hair before turning to face their new companions.

"On the contrary, General Mitchell," Teal'c responded, standing with Mitchell and Daniel. "I am not surprised at all. But you have not had the pleasure of knowing General O'Neill and Colonel Carter for so many years as I have."

"Actually," O'Neill said, disentangling himself from Carter and straightening his tie dignifiedly, "it's not General O'Neill any more. Just Mister, I guess. But O Great O'Neill, Supreme Ruler of All would suffice."

"You retired?" Daniel exclaimed incredulously. "Jack, when were you going to tell us?"

"I just did."

"About you two, I mean, not retiring."

He glanced at Sam and handed the topic over to her. She shrugged bashfully. "We've been together since Ba'al's extraction ceremony."

Daniel's mouth dropped open. "That long? I had no idea!"

Sam smiled timidly, taking Jack's hand. "We were no longer in the direct chain of command, so... here we are," she shrugged again, cheeks unusually pink.

"Now, gentlemen," O'Neill said to Teal'c and Mitchell. "If you'll excuse me…" Wrapping his arms around Sam, he dipped her down for a sound kiss, smirking against her mouth as he watched them back away out of the corner of his eye.

…

The patio at the back of the restaurant was decorated lavishly, complete with a hand-painted banner reading "We'll Miss You, Walter."

Vala jumped up and down, squealing eagerly as the newly discovered couple entered hand-in-hand. "Congratulations!" She enveloped them both in a crushing hug and asked, "So, when's the happy day?"

Sam and Jack just exchanged a glance and a grin.

…

Half an hour later, the table on the restaurant patio was full – Sergeant Siler, Lieutenant Colonel Davis, General Landry, and General Mitchell in dress suits, Jennifer and Rodney McKay, Vala in a deep red, knee-length dress overlaid with black lace, Daniel next to her in his typical sport coat and dress shirt, every member – past and present – of SG-1, Teyla and her family, and most of the Atlantis military personnel. Walter sat at the head of the table.

Vala cleared her throat and tapped her water glass with a fork. "Excuse me, everybody! If we could all just quiet down a bit… Thank you." She stood up and cleared her throat again, straightening her hair, tucked into a silver, shiny clip at the back of her head. "I believe as the organizer of this party it is my duty to make some kind of speech… I'm not one for eloquence, but I'd just like to say what a wonderful experience it has been having our dear Chief Master Sergeant Harriman at the controls for over fifteen years. Although it appears that we have another retirement to celebrate as well," she said, nodding to O'Neill.

"Three, actually," said Mr. Woolsey as he walked in. "I've just handed in my resignation to the IOA."

"Good for you!" Mitchell said, raising his beer bottle in toast, eliciting a good-natured smirk from Woolsey.

"If you don't mind," Rodney said once the quiet laughter died down, "I have a little announcement to make too." He glanced over at his wife, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Jennifer and I… we're having a baby."

The crowd gushed, whispering amongst themselves. "Do you know the gender?" Teyla asked.

"It's a girl," Jennifer said with a smile.

Teyla grasped her husband's hand, balancing Torren on her lap. "We wish you the greatest of happiness."

"Thank you."

"How 'bout a name?" Sheppard asked. "I guess you can't name this one after me," Sheppard said with a smirk at Teyla.

"Well, we haven't really talked about it," Rodney began, "but I was thinking… Carson… might be nice."

Jennifer smiled, squeezing his hand again. "That would be wonderful."

"Aww," Vala sighed, resting her head on Daniel's shoulder. He glanced over, intending to reprimand her, but draped his arm across her shoulder and pulled her closer anyway.

When no one else moved to speak, Walter stood up, cleared his throat awkwardly, and raised his glass. "I guess I should say something now, if you don't mind… It means a lot having all of you here, and… I didn't know…" He laughed nervously and changed his train of thought. "The Stargate Program would never have been possible without everyone here. I really just count the chevrons," he shrugged bashfully. "Really, it is an honor having the opportunity to work with such talented people. So… to all of you. And to everyone we've lost along the way."

The crowd stood and raised their glasses, solemn for a moment. They all touched glasses, drank, and sat back down.

"Now," Vala said, grinning eagerly. "I did a little digging whilst planning this little party and, according to your dear friend Sylvester here," she gestured to Siler, who blushed furiously, "you have never been to Atlantis."

Walter nodded slowly, brows furrowed.

"So, I asked a little favor from our dear Colonel Caldwell up in the Daedalus, and…" She glanced up at the ceiling expectantly.

There was a great flash of white light, and suddenly the entire party was on a large balcony overlooking the Lantean sea, banner and all.

Vala leaned over and gave Walter a large, sloppy kiss on the cheek as he stood up slowly, taking in the glimmering city above and below. "This is awesome!"

…

From Elizabeth's balcony, the hustle and bustle of Walter's retirement party was just audible. Sheppard took a swig of his beer.

"Someone skipped out on the party," Mitchell said from behind him.

Sheppard turned to face him, his expression relaxed. "Just taking a break. There's a lot of memories in that room."

"Indeed there are," Mitchell said, edging over to join him at the balcony and watch the ocean below. "Have you made a decision yet?"

The crisp night air was calm for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "I have."

…

The gate room of Atlantis was bright, sunlight flooding through the windows and personnel crossing here and there. Johnny Cash blared through the loudspeaker.

Sheppard glanced up at the level above where Chuck manned the dialing computer, personnel crossed here and there, and someone else's knickknacks and paperwork filled the commanding officer's desk.

"Yep, Diego," Sheppard said, kneeling down to pet his scruffy dog. "We're home."