Lunch was great, as far as Sam was concerned. Not only did she thoroughly enjoy the company of Shawn, and the other cadets – both of his roommates and the other cadets in his platoon – but she was really enjoying being back at the academy and greeting the occasional instructor who came by that she knew – both from her own time here, and because she'd gone to the academy with them. If not for the SGC, Sam knew it was very likely she would be here, instructing at the academy as well, and as she looked around at the noisy bustle, she shrugged. It wouldn't have been so bad. Nothing at all like what she was doing – and she had no intention of stopping what she was doing – but it'd always be a fall back career, she supposed. She wasn't the only one looking around, though, and she wasn't the only one with her mind on other things.

"Who's the Major with Adams?"

A group of cadets sitting at the table nearest the door looked over at the loudest and noisiest table – the one where the big black lab was doing all sorts of cool tricks for Shawn and Sam.

"That's Samantha O'Neill," One of the cadets answered, looking over. "I was at her lecture – she's some kind of genius, let me tell you."

"What's she hanging out with Adams for?"

"He's a genius, too, right?" Answered one of the others. "Maybe they're in some kind of genius club or something."

"Dip shit," one of the others said, scornfully. "She's his stepmother."

"Bullshit."

All eyes were turned on the cadet, who loved this fact, and couldn't help but puff up just a little at being the center of attention.

"How do you know that?" One of them asked.

"Brooks told me."

He didn't mention that Brooks had told him that after calling him a dumb ass, or that he'd said it after the cadet had wondered if she was where Shawn got his brains from, but from the interested looks on the faces of the others, he didn't have to.

"Really?"

"Yup."

"He'd know." Said one of them.

"He's a bastard..." Said another.

"He's Adams' roommate, though. Roommates tell each other things, right?"

There were nods all around, and they all looked over at the far table once more.

They weren't the only ones. One of the senior members of the school's echelon had just happened to be on the other side of the open door and had heard the entire conversation. Not that he'd meant to actually eavesdrop on the cadets – officers and gentlemen didn't 'snoop' - but it'd been hard to miss. As the Colonel walked by, the young men fell silent as a sign of respect, but he ignored them, and headed over to greet Samantha – who had been one of his students there when she'd been younger and so had he.

As he said his hellos, he couldn't help but glance at the boy in question a couple of times. The Colonel knew who Sam was married to – everyone did – and although he didn't know Jack O'Neill very well personally, there was a great interest in the man who was practically a legend in the area, at least.

Adams looked a little like Jack O'Neill, the Colonel decided, and he wondered why the boy's last name wasn't O'Neill. Bastard meant very little in modern day America, but he couldn't see why O'Neill didn't claim the boy. Of course, it was also plausible that Jack O'Neill had claimed him in every way he could - there was a mother involved somewhere, of course - and it was obvious now why the boy was in the academy – even with brains like that. His father, who everyone knew was some kind of friend of the President's, had greased the way for him. Nothing wrong with that, as far as the Colonel was concerned. That's what fathers did for their sons, after all. But he couldn't wait to tell the others. This was, indeed, gossip fodder, and really there were few people who loved to gossip more than Air Force Officers.

By the end of the night, the news would be all over the top levels of the chain of command in the academy. By the end of the week, it'd be everywhere else. Out of respect – or maybe fear – of Colonel Jack O'Neill, the word wouldn't be passed to him, but everyone else who was interested was going to know about Shawn Adams' paternity, that was for sure.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Colonel O'Neill," the voice on the radio was staticky from the distance he was flying and the speed, but Jack didn't have any trouble understanding it. He toggled his mike.

"Yeah?"

"You have a call, Sir."

"What?"

They surely weren't interrupting his mock dog-fight to patch through a phone call?

"It's Major O'Neill, Sir. She says it's important."

"I'll be right there."

"It's not an emergency, she said to tell you..."

Of course it had to be important, Jack knew. If it weren't, Sam wouldn't be calling. That she'd said it wasn't an emergency told him that she was fine, and there was nothing so wrong that he had to panic and land faster than he should. The baby was fine. Jaffer was fine. Shawn was fine. But she needed him. Now.

He signaled to the others in his flight, telling them he was leaving the combat area, and dropped below the curtain, only pulling out his landing gear and flaps at the last minute. The landing was as smooth as glass – as always – and he rolled to a stop less than 20 feet from a jeep that was obviously waiting for him.

A First Lieutenant was waiting for him with a field phone, which he handed over to Jack a soon as the Colonel reached him. Jack took it with a nod of thanks, and the Lieutenant moved politely out of earshot.

"Sam?"

"Jack. Hi." She sounded upset – but mostly frustrated.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure," came the reply. "I can't get Jaffer to come with me."

"What?"

"He won't leave the academy, Jack. I've tried everything."

Well, it was a lot more serious than it sounded, since rumors to the contrary, Jaffer would do anything for Sam. Obviously there was something going on that the dog sensed, and Sam didn't know.

"I'll be right there."

He hung up the phone and handed it to the Lieutenant.

"I need you to drive me to my truck."

"Aye, aye, Sir."