Author's Note: After watching the letters home episode last friday, I couldn't help but want to add this in.

OOOOOO

When Jack O'Neill finally dragged himself out of bed the next morning, he didn't feel any more refreshed than he had when he'd gone to bed the night before. Of course, part of that had to do with the fact that he hadn't slept well – despite the fact that the bed had been incredibly comfortable. He'd had the new problem of the Wraith running through his mind all night, his agile brain already trying to form plans and defenses against a race of creatures he knew next to nothing about. Add to that the fact that he was still a little worried about Melony – who would always be a constant source of concern to him for as long as he lived – and it didn't make for a recipe for a good night's sleep. But once he woke up, he didn't even try to go back to sleep. There was too much to do, and he wanted to check on Melony and see if Carter had come up with anything yet. Usually, she was the first to come up with something – and Jack was sort of counting on that.

He showered, shaved and once more looked around the perfectly normal bathroom with just a little disappointment. Then he dressed, slipping his holster around his waist, but leaving his P90 where it was, since he was pretty sure he wasn't going to need it just then. The Beretta and zat, however, wouldn't leave his side until they returned home. Ready to face the day, he palmed opened his door and stepped out into the hall, and was promptly absconded by a tall man with a ponytail dressed in one of the scientist uniforms.

"General O'Neill?"

Jack scowled. Then realized that maybe Dr. Weir had told this guy to wait for him to make an appearance and take him to… wherever they were all going to meet. Jack would have preferred a cup of coffee before dealing with a scientist. Well… this scientist, anyways.

"Yes?"

The man gave him a greasy smile that Jack didn't like immediately.

"I'm Doctor Eric Kavanaugh – one of the astrophysicists here on-"

"Yes?"

He didn't care.

"I'd like to talk to you, sir, if you have a moment…?"

Jack scowled again. He didn't have a moment. He wanted a cup of coffee. However, he also couldn't help himself.

"About what?"

"I'd like to draw your attention to the fact that Doctor Weir has made several decisions during our time here that have put the lives of the entire expedition in serious jeopardy, General. She's reckless at the best of times, and plays footloose and fancy free with the lives of those around her. Obviously, she wasn't the best choice to lead this expedition and I was-"

Jack held up his hand, stopping the rush of words – which sounded like the guy had been waiting forever to say this.

"Doctor…?"

"Kavanaugh, General…"

"Kavanaugh," Jack repeated, his eyes already cold – a sure warning sign to those who knew him well, and most who didn't. "Did you get drafted for this expedition?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… did someone come to your house in the middle of the night and kidnap you, forcing you to come here?"

Kavanaugh hesitated, but shook his head.

"No, General. I volunteered. Who wouldn't have? The chance to explore At-"

"So you willingly came. Willingly put yourself under the command of-"

"Not of Doctor Weir, General. I-"

"I put Weir in charge of this expedition," Jack said, his eyes flashing angrily. "I did. Me. Moi. I sent her here with a group of the smartest people Earth had to offer so that they could do all their searching and discovering and whatever the hell else they were going to do. Now, I don't know how a weasel like you managed to sneak into that group, but from what I've seen so far Weir has done a fine job dealing with a situation that none of us ever could have-"

"General, I-"

Jack's temper completely snapped. He hated being interrupted at the best of times; to be interrupted by a conniving backstabber was intolerable. His hand shot out, grabbing Kavanaugh's jacket and pushing him back against the closest wall, slamming him not at all gently.

"I don't like being interrupted, Kavanaugh," Jack told him. "Now… as I was saying. I put Weir in charge, and I'm more than satisfied with the job she is doing – and has done. Obviously, you are not, and that's really just too fucking bad. I do notice that you're alive, though, which probably has something to do with some decision that Doctor Weir has made in the past, so instead of sneaking around her back and criticizing her, maybe you ought to get your head out of your ass and start doing your job."

"Sir, I didn't mean to offend y-"

"I'm not offended," Jack told him, letting go of the jacket with a final shove. "I'm disgusted. If you're any example of the support Weir's been getting around here then it's a miracle any of you are still alive."

"He's not."

The quiet voice drew O'Neill's attention from Cavanaugh, and both men looked over to see Sheppard standing outside the open door to a set of quarters that were probably his. The Major was leaning against a wall, making Jack wonder how long he'd been there, and making Kavanaugh flush hotly at having had this dressing down witnessed by someone else.

Jack spoke first.

"No?"

Sheppard shook his head.

"The others – most of them – are behind Weir a hundred percent, General. And Mitchell, too, for that matter. The good doctor here," and it was obviously an insult from the way Sheppard put it, "is a definite minority when it comes to his opinions of Weir's ability to lead."

"And yourself?" Jack asked.

Sheppard looked at Kavanaugh, pointedly, and Jack glanced over at the doctor as well.

"Grownups are talking here, Kavanaugh," O'Neill told him. "Go find something to do. And if I hear another word about this from anyone – and I do mean anyone – I'll toss you off a cliff."

The doctor flushed again, looked as though he was going to say something, and obviously thought better of it. He turned on his heel and stalked off down the hall.

"We don't have any cliffs," Sheppard told Jack with a faint smile on his face. That had been a thing of beauty, and Sheppard had seen many an ass chewing in his day.

"I can improvise," O'Neill told him, shrugging, as his anger started to fade. "You were telling me what you thought of Weir…"

John shrugged.

"She's doing a good job under an incredible situation…"

"And you have no problem with her decisions?"

"I didn't say that," Sheppard said. "But she's doing good, sir, and her priorities are right. She never makes the same mistake twice as far as I have seen, and she's really had some tough calls to make…"

Jack nodded. That was good enough for him, and it matched the conclusion he, himself, had come to.

"I want to go to the infirmary and check on Colonel Mitchell, and then I want to have a meeting with Weir and several others."

"Colonel Mitchell isn't in the infirmary," Sheppard said, smiling as he noticed something O'Neill hadn't.

Jack followed his gaze, turning to look behind him, and saw Melony standing in the hallway, leaning against the open door to her own quarters, her hair tousled and dressed in a pair of sweats and a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt, obviously just woken up.

"Why am I not surprised to be woken up by you yelling at a scientist, Jack?" She asked him, her pale eyes amused.