A/N: Moving right along! Hope you don't mind too much, but this chapter is all about the Ship. I know I promised plot development, but these scenes just snuck up on me. More ooey-gooey relationship fluff, I'm afraid. I already have action planned for the next section, so bear with me.

Can I really be writing chapter seventeen? This story has gone places I never originally dreamed of visiting, thanks entirely to your fantastic inspiration in the form of feedback. My original concept would have ended this story about twelve chapters ago! I hope you keep reading and reviewing. Thanks again!

Chapter 17

Sam nibbled delicately on the corner of a dinner roll as she tried to concentrate on her father's explanation of Tok'ra politics. Normally, she would have been fascinated by the topic, but tonight, she just wasn't interested. She kept flashing back to her earlier conversation with Jack. Had he been speaking abstractly? Was he weighing his own feelings on the matter? Did he want to know about her interest in marriage because of some vague, distant idea he had for the future? Or was his interest more immediate? Sam had no idea, but she felt rather frustrated that her own reply had been so inadequate.

"Sam?" Jacob had noticed the far-off expression on his daughter's face, and had stopped speaking a good fifteen seconds earlier. When his silence hadn't caused Sam to take notice, he concluded that she was obviously not paying attention. Suppressing a smile, he admitted to himself that he didn't mind her inattentiveness. She had a lot to think about these days, and he'd be willing to bet that marriage to Jack O'Neill was at the top of the list.

Emerging from her reverie, Sam blinked and focused on her father's face. "Oh, gosh, Dad. I'm sorry; I was someplace else just now. What were you saying?"

Jacob just smiled. "Nothing important. I didn't invite myself over for dinner to have a discussion of the Tok'ra, anyway." Pausing, he considered the symbiote who shared his body. "No offense to Selmak, of course." Seeing Sam return his smile, he continued. "So, Samantha, tell me how you're feeling these days. Is everyone in your body doing well?"

Sam chuckled at the comparison. "We're all great, Dad. Though I did have a few nightmares about the twins turning into Goa'uld symbiotes. The combination of anxiety, pregnancy hormones, and top-secret military information was just too much for my subconscious brain."

Jacob shared her laughter. "I suppose that would be a bit overwhelming. But you're feeling better?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Turning the whole mess over to our superiors really took a lot of the weight off my shoulders. I feel much better now that I have a career plan again."

"It sounds like High Councilor Shinsall had a lot of pull in the outcome." Jacob said in between bites of steak.

Smiling, Sam agreed. "I'll say. I have no idea why she felt so responsible, but her unwavering support clearly saved Jack and me from certain career doom. We definitely owe her a huge favor."

Jacob swallowed, eyeing his daughter thoughtfully. "I get the feeling she doesn't see it that way. She made it pretty clear to me that she felt she owed you the favor." He shrugged. "Guess it doesn't really matter. I'm just glad it all turned out all right for you and the General." As he reached for another helping of green beans, he continued to stare frankly at Sam. "Speaking of which, how are things with you and Jack?"

Sam had expected the question, and thought she'd be prepared when it came. Making a concerted effort to remain calm, she casually reached for the salad dressing and unscrewed the cap. "Great. We're happy to be back at work, especially now that we know we have jobs for the foreseeable future."

Sam might have fooled another, less-attentive person, but she wasn't quick enough to disguise the flash of emotion that had appeared when Jack's name had been mentioned. Jacob could read her feelings as clearly as a street sign. He watched as Sam began pouring the vinaigrette dressing over her plate of mixed greens. "So, is he staying here tonight, or are you going there?"

Instead of a gentle trickle, a veritable fountain of dressing poured over Sam's salad as her hand clenched reflexively on the plastic bottle. Swearing, she jerked the bottle upright and hastily replaced the cap. "I'm not sure what you're implying," she said in a surprisingly even voice, though her face was fast becoming a deep crimson.

Jacob couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled up form his chest. "Oh, Sam, you'd make a lousy poker player. I knew where you'd spent the week from the moment I walked in that conference room this morning."

Sam glared at her father. "I'm not sure why it's any of your business," she grumbled.

He continued to smile at her. "Because I'm your father, sweetheart. I have to make sure that your General takes good care of you."

She didn't look placated. "Are you going to hit him again if he doesn't?"

Jacob laughed. "Probably." Seeing Sam's face darken, he hurriedly went on. "But I don't think that will be necessary. Jack and I are on the same page."

"Well, you shouldn't pressure him about marriage," Sam scolded him. "You're going to send him running to the far reaches of the galaxy if you keep that up."

Shaking his head, Jacob took a sip of water. "No, Samantha, I don't think that will happen." He fixed her with an attentive stare. "I had some misgivings about Jack at the beginning of this whole mess." He ignored her indelicate snort at the comment and continued. "But I'll be the first one to admit that he's behaved admirably under the circumstances. Not only has made it clear he's standing by you, but he's consistently been the first to rush to your defense whenever it was needed. Even when he thought I was out of line. It takes a lot for a guy to stand up to his girl's father. I respect him for that."

Sam snapped her mouth shut with a click. "How is it that we've reached the twenty-first century, and men are still referring to grown, educated women as someone's girl?" She rolled her eyes. "Daniel referred to me as such just a few weeks ago."

Jacob just smiled, his eyes never leaving his daughter's face. "Aw, come on. Don't tell me there isn't a little part of you that's giddy to be referred to as Jack O'Neill's girl." Seeing another blush beginning to stain Sam's features, he chuckled. "I thought so."

She tried suppressing a smile of her own, but failed. Much as she hated to admit it, her father was right. It may not have been politically correct, but it was undeniably true. She shook her head in consternation. "Nevertheless, it would be nice if women weren't referred to as property."

Still looking into her eyes, Jacob winked. "Now don't be so hasty to point fingers, young lady. I did refer to Jack as 'your General' a few minutes ago, and you didn't have any objections to that."

Sam felt happiness settle over her soul like a warm blanket on a cold night. "I guess you're right," she replied softly.

Turning serious, Jacob reached over and grasped one of Sam's hands. "If he makes you happy, sweetheart, then I couldn't ask for more. He's a good man underneath all the bluster and cynicism. Force him to be honest with his feelings and keep standing up to him when he's an ass. You two are polar opposite in so many ways, but I think it'll be a good thing for both of you in the long run."

Sam saw a wistful gleam in her father's eyes. "You're thinking about Mom, aren't you?"

He smiled sadly. "Not a day goes by that I don't. Losing her was like losing part of myself, but I'd never choose a different path in life if it meant giving away a second of the time we spent together."

Squeezing his hand, Sam felt her own throat close with emotion. Wordlessly, she met his eyes in a moment of shared loss.

Jacob took a deep breath and returned to his meal, obviously shifting the conversation back to a less emotionally-charged issue. "So, Samantha, you never answered my question."

Sam looked at him, clearly puzzled. "What question is that?"

He smirked knowingly. "Your place or his?"

Once again blushing, Sam shook her head. Still, she didn't bother denying it this time. "His," she replied succinctly.

Jacob smirk grew into a smile. "Good! Then, I was hoping I could stay at your place tonight. Those darn beds in the SGC's guest quarters are murder on my back."

Sam couldn't help laughing. "Of course, Dad. Anything you want."

Sam knocked on Jack's door, unable to completely squelch a feeling of nervousness. He'd left her a voice message earlier in the afternoon, asking her to meet him in "the usual location" for their dinner meeting. The message had made her smile, since most of their meals in the past week had been consumed in the comfort of Jack's king-sized bed. Unfortunately, however, the lack of face-to-face communication now was making her a little uptight. What if he'd meant something totally different?

At that moment, the door swung open. Jack stood in the doorway, wearing jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt. He cut quite a dashing figure in his casual clothes, and Sam felt her heart flutter in appreciation.

"Hello there, Colonel. Fancy meeting you here tonight." Jack's smile could only be described as sexy. Again, Sam felt her pulse race. It didn't seem possible that, after all those years of repressed longing, she could actually have the man in front of her.

She returned his smile with a somewhat breathless one of her own. "Hello, sir. I was hoping I got your message right."

As Jack held the door open for her, he gave her a quizzical look. "Was I not clear enough?"

She was about to step past him, when she was suddenly encased in a pair of strong arms. The door slammed shut behind her just as his mouth swooped down for a swift, hard kiss. He gently pulled away, gazing deeply into her eyes.

Collecting her scattered wits, Sam smiled weakly. "No, your words were very clear. I just wasn't sure if I'd interpreted them correctly."

Jack continued to look intently at her. "What other meaning could you have possibly gotten from my message, Carter?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I thought maybe you actually wanted to have a dinner meeting."

Jack's expression didn't change. "Sam, I've never ordered a dinner meeting in my life. Why on Earth would I start now, especially when the alternative is so, so much more interesting?"

She felt herself blushing. "Good point."

Leading her to the sofa, he sat down and pulled her to a seat beside him. When she was snugly situated in the crook of his arm, he let out a long sigh of relaxation. "Carter, you think too much." His voice held clear affection.

Sam smiled. "Well, then, it seems we were made for each other. Because you rarely think at all." There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He made a face. "Gee, thanks. See if I let you have any of the cookie-dough ice cream, now."

She just smirked. "We both know that's an empty threat, Jack." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I have ways of bending you to my will."

Hearing that, he leaned forward and spoke softly. "Somehow, I don't seem to mind your methods of torture, Sam."

Lying in bed, Sam listened to the gentle noise of Jack's breathing. The moderate rhythm told her that he wasn't yet asleep.

"So are you okay with our new command structure?" She asked quietly, gazing at the ceiling.

Jack lightly traced a pattern on her arm as he spoke. "I think it's a great plan. This way, when I order you to roll yourself in bubble-wrap and hide from anything remotely dangerous, you can tell me to go to hell."

Sam smiled. "You would never have done that, Jack. You'd never let your personal feelings compromise your military objectives."

She couldn't see the serious expression on his face when he replied. "I'm glad I don't have to test that theory, Sam. I'm not nearly as convinced of it as you are."

She rolled over and propped herself up on one elbow, gazing down at his face. "You never had any trouble sending me into battle before."

He couldn't hide the disbelief in his eyes. "Are you kidding me? Of course I had trouble with it. I just managed to somehow suck it up." He shrugged. "I really don't know if I could do it now, not only because of the babies, but because of all this." He waved a hand back and forth between them, indicating the bond they now shared. "I'm beginning to realize that all those fraternization rules are there for good reason."

She reached forward and brushed her fingertips along his cheekbone. "I understand. I've had to hold my breath and pray for your safety more times than I can count. I can't imagine how hard it would be to feel that terror, knowing that I was the one who'd ordered you into harm's way." She shuddered. "I love what we do, but sometimes I wish it was less risky."

He gazed into her eyes, feeling her concern and affection wash over him. "It's a soldier's lot in life to roll with things as they come. We can't take a moment for granted."

Instantly, Sam felt her eyes welling with tears. The ache of losing Janet was still fresh, even though it had been nearly a year since her death. "We've already lost so much time with each other," she whispered.

Jack shook his head. "No, Sam, we haven't. We may not have been together like this," he said, again gesturing to their close proximity, "but we've been standing beside each other for years."

Slowly, her tears faded into a soft smile. "You're absolutely right. And I wouldn't trade a minute of it. You're the finest CO I've ever served under."

Suddenly, Jack's eyes lit up with impish delight. In a swift, unexpected move, he rolled over and captured her wrists with his hands. Grinning, he wiggled his eyebrows and leaned close to her face. "What was that about serving under me?"

Sam was able to squeak a quick giggle before his lips crashed down on hers. It was along time before either of them spoke again.