Author's note: Okay... this is MY vision of the future... just so you all know!
This is basically what I'd have happen if I had my way.
~*~
Shawn had his guns up the moment he materialized, for the briefest moment allowing himself the thought that Jack might, after all, have been right and what would he do if he was? It only lasted a moment, though. Then he saw what was waiting for him on YD4-PLQ and the guns went down.
A large yellow lab came rushing up to him, tail wagging furiously as he wuffled a happy greeting. Shawn grinned, and slid the Beretta back into his holster and then reached down and patted the dog while the rest of SG-1 came up to join their commanding officer.
"Jesus, you had us worried!" Andrew told him, reaching out and shaking his hand with a huge grin on his face.
"Me, too," Shawn said, returning the smile, and the handshake. "You guys okay?"
"JJ took a tumble through the gate on the other side," Andrew said, gesturing at the dog, who didn't look any worse for the wear. "But it was only a shoulder sprain, and it's healed up, now."
JJ was technically named Jack Jr., - well, on his official registration papers it was Colonel Jack O'Neill Jr. – but Jack Jr. was easier to say, and JJ was even easier. So that was what everyone called him. The yellow lab was Andrew's pride and joy, and an integral part of SG-1 for the last couple years.
Shawn looked out at the other people who were waiting for him. There had to be at least twelve SG teams standing guard – along with at least that many vicious looking dogs - and he shook his head, although he didn't say anything. There was definitely no doubt that the coast was clear.
"Where's Jack?"
"Waiting for you at the SGC." Andrew told him. "He wanted to come, but there were other things he had to do."
"How long have I been gone?"
"A little over two months. It took us a while to find the proper order of gravitational anomalies to get you back to this time, and even longer for us to convince Jack that he shouldn't go back and get you himself."
"You convinced him?" Shawn looked doubtful, and Andrew smiled.
"You know better than that. Sam convinced him. He's waiting for you, though, and if we don't get you back he'll probably come tearing through the gate any minute, sure that something has gone wrong."
"With this many people I can't imagine anything could."
"That's the whole idea."
Andrew turned to one of the soldiers standing by the dial home device, and waved his arm as he and SG-1 moved away from the gate and over to the side.
"Dial it up, Sergeant."
"Yes, Sir."
~*~
The gate flared, and immediately a glimmering force field came up about ten feet from the event horizon. A one way wall of energy, it was designed that if an enemy came through the gate they could be mowed down very efficiently while the staff weapons – or whatever other kinds of weapons that the enemy possessed – would not be able to penetrate the shield and do any harm to those that were the first line of defense of Earth. It was a handy way to tell friend from foe without having to trust just the codes coming in – especially if the friend in question didn't possess a code. Designed and engineered by Sam and Shawn, it was something the remaining Goa'uld had no answer for, and probably never would.
Everyone in the embarkation room tensed, and then the all clear was given as SG-1's code came flashing on a large screen above the Gate itself.
"Lower the shielding."
The voice that gave the command didn't belong to the Major General in charge of the SGC. It came from Jack O'Neill. But it was obeyed immediately. Even as Shawn and his team came through the gate, the shimmering wall faded.
"Shawn!"
A little boy broke from his father's side and rushed over to the young Lieutenant Colonel. It wasn't proper military procedure, but Jacob O'Neill didn't care. He wasn't going to be in the Military when he grew up, anyways. He was going to be an archeologist.
"Jake!"
Shawn handed Andrew his B'kedricti and scooped the little boy up in his arms, ignoring the sting from his ripped stitches as he did so. Unlike Shawn – who had only inherited a few of Jack's features, mainly his eyes, his smile, and the set expressions on his face when he was being stubborn – there was absolutely no question that Jacob was his father's son. He had the same eyes, the same face. Everything. The only part of him that was Sam – aside from his already budding intelligence – was his blonde hair.
"We were sooo worried!"
"I know, buddy. I'm sorry."
Shifting Jake over to a one-armed hold, Shawn walked down the ramp with Andrew and stood in front of Jack and Sam. O'Neill wasn't in uniform. He hadn't worn a uniform in some time. Instead he was in a superbly tailored suit of a conservative blue. Sam was standing by him, looking lovely in an emerald green dress that was conservative, but at the same time absolutely stunning on her. Sitting on the other side of O'Neill was a very large black lab, his muzzle shot with gray, but the brown eyes filled with mischief as Shawn approached.
"We brought him back, Sir." Andrew reported, unnecessarily, saluting.
Jack smiled, and handed the 7-year-old girl in his arms over to her mother. Like Jacob, there was no doubt whatsoever that the little girl was Jack's. She, too, had inherited Jack's eyes, and though her features were more rounded than her father's and brothers', the smile she gave Shawn was a mirror to his own. Sam often complained that she hadn't had a chance to put much of herself into their children – although she privately loved the fact that they had Jack's eyes.
"Well done, Major." Jack said, returning the salute.
"Thank you, Sir."
Jack turned his attention to Shawn.
"You disobeyed my orders, Colonel."
Shawn nodded, his chin coming up as he prepared for a royal ass chewing. One he deserved.
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you think I give orders for my own amusement?"
"No, Sir."
"I told you YD4-PLQ was an ambush, didn't I?"
"Yes, Sir." At the time, however, Shawn had wondered how O'Neill could be so certain. Now, of course, he knew. Shawn himself had told Jack everything he needed to know to decide that an ambush had been waiting for SG-1.
"Never do that again, Shawn. Ever. If I tell you I don't want you to go somewhere, and you go there, I'll leave you there to rot. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
He didn't buy it, of course, and neither did the others in the room. Especially Sam and Andrew. But Shawn would do what he was told. Most of the time, anyways.
"Sir?" One of the men who'd been standing behind Jack stepped forward before Jack could finish his chewing. O'Neill turned and looked at him.
"Air Force One is refueled, Sir. They're waiting for us. Whenever you're ready."
"Thank you." Jack turned back to Shawn and took Jacob from him, smiling gently at both of his sons. "Go get showered, and get that shoulder taken care of, and do it quickly. We have a party to attend."
"A party?"
"Hammond's good-bye party."
"Already?"
"It's been two months. Do what I tell you or I'll have Jaffer bite you."
"Yes, Sir."
He turned and headed out the room, Andrew at his side.
"They already had the election?"
"Yup."
"Hammond's leaving, but who's coming into Office?" Shawn couldn't tell by the way everyone had been acting in the embarkation room.
"The administrations change sometimes, Colonel," Andrew told him with a smile as he motioned for JJ to lead the way down the hall. "But this time the people aren't. Jack won easily. You think he's been protective of you and the Stargate Program before? Just wait. No one will be able to touch us, now, and we can finally get free of the politics and finish what Jack and the others started."
~*~
Shawn had his guns up the moment he materialized, for the briefest moment allowing himself the thought that Jack might, after all, have been right and what would he do if he was? It only lasted a moment, though. Then he saw what was waiting for him on YD4-PLQ and the guns went down.
A large yellow lab came rushing up to him, tail wagging furiously as he wuffled a happy greeting. Shawn grinned, and slid the Beretta back into his holster and then reached down and patted the dog while the rest of SG-1 came up to join their commanding officer.
"Jesus, you had us worried!" Andrew told him, reaching out and shaking his hand with a huge grin on his face.
"Me, too," Shawn said, returning the smile, and the handshake. "You guys okay?"
"JJ took a tumble through the gate on the other side," Andrew said, gesturing at the dog, who didn't look any worse for the wear. "But it was only a shoulder sprain, and it's healed up, now."
JJ was technically named Jack Jr., - well, on his official registration papers it was Colonel Jack O'Neill Jr. – but Jack Jr. was easier to say, and JJ was even easier. So that was what everyone called him. The yellow lab was Andrew's pride and joy, and an integral part of SG-1 for the last couple years.
Shawn looked out at the other people who were waiting for him. There had to be at least twelve SG teams standing guard – along with at least that many vicious looking dogs - and he shook his head, although he didn't say anything. There was definitely no doubt that the coast was clear.
"Where's Jack?"
"Waiting for you at the SGC." Andrew told him. "He wanted to come, but there were other things he had to do."
"How long have I been gone?"
"A little over two months. It took us a while to find the proper order of gravitational anomalies to get you back to this time, and even longer for us to convince Jack that he shouldn't go back and get you himself."
"You convinced him?" Shawn looked doubtful, and Andrew smiled.
"You know better than that. Sam convinced him. He's waiting for you, though, and if we don't get you back he'll probably come tearing through the gate any minute, sure that something has gone wrong."
"With this many people I can't imagine anything could."
"That's the whole idea."
Andrew turned to one of the soldiers standing by the dial home device, and waved his arm as he and SG-1 moved away from the gate and over to the side.
"Dial it up, Sergeant."
"Yes, Sir."
~*~
The gate flared, and immediately a glimmering force field came up about ten feet from the event horizon. A one way wall of energy, it was designed that if an enemy came through the gate they could be mowed down very efficiently while the staff weapons – or whatever other kinds of weapons that the enemy possessed – would not be able to penetrate the shield and do any harm to those that were the first line of defense of Earth. It was a handy way to tell friend from foe without having to trust just the codes coming in – especially if the friend in question didn't possess a code. Designed and engineered by Sam and Shawn, it was something the remaining Goa'uld had no answer for, and probably never would.
Everyone in the embarkation room tensed, and then the all clear was given as SG-1's code came flashing on a large screen above the Gate itself.
"Lower the shielding."
The voice that gave the command didn't belong to the Major General in charge of the SGC. It came from Jack O'Neill. But it was obeyed immediately. Even as Shawn and his team came through the gate, the shimmering wall faded.
"Shawn!"
A little boy broke from his father's side and rushed over to the young Lieutenant Colonel. It wasn't proper military procedure, but Jacob O'Neill didn't care. He wasn't going to be in the Military when he grew up, anyways. He was going to be an archeologist.
"Jake!"
Shawn handed Andrew his B'kedricti and scooped the little boy up in his arms, ignoring the sting from his ripped stitches as he did so. Unlike Shawn – who had only inherited a few of Jack's features, mainly his eyes, his smile, and the set expressions on his face when he was being stubborn – there was absolutely no question that Jacob was his father's son. He had the same eyes, the same face. Everything. The only part of him that was Sam – aside from his already budding intelligence – was his blonde hair.
"We were sooo worried!"
"I know, buddy. I'm sorry."
Shifting Jake over to a one-armed hold, Shawn walked down the ramp with Andrew and stood in front of Jack and Sam. O'Neill wasn't in uniform. He hadn't worn a uniform in some time. Instead he was in a superbly tailored suit of a conservative blue. Sam was standing by him, looking lovely in an emerald green dress that was conservative, but at the same time absolutely stunning on her. Sitting on the other side of O'Neill was a very large black lab, his muzzle shot with gray, but the brown eyes filled with mischief as Shawn approached.
"We brought him back, Sir." Andrew reported, unnecessarily, saluting.
Jack smiled, and handed the 7-year-old girl in his arms over to her mother. Like Jacob, there was no doubt whatsoever that the little girl was Jack's. She, too, had inherited Jack's eyes, and though her features were more rounded than her father's and brothers', the smile she gave Shawn was a mirror to his own. Sam often complained that she hadn't had a chance to put much of herself into their children – although she privately loved the fact that they had Jack's eyes.
"Well done, Major." Jack said, returning the salute.
"Thank you, Sir."
Jack turned his attention to Shawn.
"You disobeyed my orders, Colonel."
Shawn nodded, his chin coming up as he prepared for a royal ass chewing. One he deserved.
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you think I give orders for my own amusement?"
"No, Sir."
"I told you YD4-PLQ was an ambush, didn't I?"
"Yes, Sir." At the time, however, Shawn had wondered how O'Neill could be so certain. Now, of course, he knew. Shawn himself had told Jack everything he needed to know to decide that an ambush had been waiting for SG-1.
"Never do that again, Shawn. Ever. If I tell you I don't want you to go somewhere, and you go there, I'll leave you there to rot. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
He didn't buy it, of course, and neither did the others in the room. Especially Sam and Andrew. But Shawn would do what he was told. Most of the time, anyways.
"Sir?" One of the men who'd been standing behind Jack stepped forward before Jack could finish his chewing. O'Neill turned and looked at him.
"Air Force One is refueled, Sir. They're waiting for us. Whenever you're ready."
"Thank you." Jack turned back to Shawn and took Jacob from him, smiling gently at both of his sons. "Go get showered, and get that shoulder taken care of, and do it quickly. We have a party to attend."
"A party?"
"Hammond's good-bye party."
"Already?"
"It's been two months. Do what I tell you or I'll have Jaffer bite you."
"Yes, Sir."
He turned and headed out the room, Andrew at his side.
"They already had the election?"
"Yup."
"Hammond's leaving, but who's coming into Office?" Shawn couldn't tell by the way everyone had been acting in the embarkation room.
"The administrations change sometimes, Colonel," Andrew told him with a smile as he motioned for JJ to lead the way down the hall. "But this time the people aren't. Jack won easily. You think he's been protective of you and the Stargate Program before? Just wait. No one will be able to touch us, now, and we can finally get free of the politics and finish what Jack and the others started."