Thanks for the great reviews. Amazing how many of you seemed to love the shirtless slaves thing! I must have been in 'slightly smutty' mode when I came up with that paragraph.

Part Three

Something was crawling up and down my cheek. I twitched and swatted at it. "Go 'way," I mumbled irritably.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine."

A voice. A male voice. A very familiar male voice. I twisted round and saw Brigadier General Jack O'Neill lying next to me, propped up one elbow, wearing the smirk to end all smirks and trailing a finger up and down my cheek.

I closed my eyes. Oh God, we didn't ...? "Sir?" I said cautiously.

"Carter," he replied, removing his hand. He sat up, revealing tee shirt and shorts and an acute case (or was that a cute case?) of bed head - no doubt from his habit of hugging his pillow. No-one would ever have figured rough tough Brigadier General O'Neill for a snuggler. Thank God. "Sleep okay?" he asked.

"Uh ... yes, thank you sir," I said, cautiously patting down my own body, and relieved to find that I was also in tee shirt and shorts.

"A-ah! Vacation, Sam!" he reminded me.

"Jack," I agreed softly, blushing as I suddenly recalled telling him I loved him - and the way I'd snuggled into his body. It had just been for comfort, but my monkey brain had registered instantly how good his muscled torso had felt against me ... his long legs tangled with mine ... his scent ... Jack O'Neill was a potent, sexy man - if they could bottle whatever it was that made up the O'Neill charisma, they could out-sell Viagra.

He gave me another smirk. "Better," he said. "And about what I said last night ..." - he gave a cough - "I meant it."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I did too," I said, "but ...".

"I know," he cut me off. "There's still the regs, and you've gone through something I can't begin to understand." He pressed his lips to my forehead. "But things have changed between us, Sam - we can't go back."

"And I don't want to," I told him. "I just ... need to get my head on straight." So much had changed in a few short weeks, and I was still reeling. I gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "To hold you over," I said almost shyly.

"Sweeeet," Jack said, and I couldn't help chuckling. He got out of the bed. "Well; me for a shower and a long hike - I wanna show Cassie and the Doc around."

"Just go gently, Jack," I advised. "Remember; Janet isn't fully fit yet."

"I'll be careful," he said. "This is the woman who decides the size of the needles that end up in my butt, remember?" He gave me a cheeky grin and I chuckled. "So; you got any plans for today, Sam?" he added.

"Not hiking," I said with a grimace. "I think Janet would kill me if I attempted it."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. He waved an expressive hand. "I've got a lot of books - some of 'em you might like; especially the astronomy ones. Spend the day in the sun with your quarks and your doppler shifts."

"That ... actually sounds pretty nice," I said, blinking. I sometimes forgot he was nowhere near as dumb as he pretended to be. A suspicion suddenly hit me. "Jack ... on Abydos, you knew perfectly well what Daniel and I were talking about, didn't you?" I asked.

I remembered the blank looks he and Major Kawalsky had exchanged as Daniel and I had expounded on the reasons why the symbols from the Abydos cartouche didn't work. I hadn't thought anything about it at the time - his attitude toward scientists hadn't given me the greatest respect for his brain.

But I recalled becoming suspicious several months later. We were setting off to see the black hole phenomenon on Hanka and I was telling Daniel about it. "Actually, it's called the accretion disk," the Colonel had pointed out absently, tying up his boot lace. That had made me suspect there was more rattling around his busy brain than brilliant offbeat tactics, sarcastic one-liners and ways to piss off System Lords.

"Ah." The General gave me a sheepish grin - that cute 'caught with his hand in the cookie jar' look. "I ... uh ... might have studied cosmology a bit at college."

"And got a degree?"

"Maybe," he said reluctantly.

More than a degree, I figured. I knew Jack had a bachelor's - you needed at least that much to enter officers' candidacy school - and wondered how much schooling he'd actually had. But I didn't want to press him. He'd tell me one day.

I changed into another floating sundress and smeared sunblock over my exposed skin. My fair Nordic skin burned easily and I didn't fancy getting baked out there. Whilst the lotion was sinking in, I went over to one of Jack's bookcases, blinking at the vast array of books. Eclectic wasn't the word for the collection.

Sun Tzu's The Art Of War; Plutarch's Lives; The Iliad; National Geographics ... I chuckled at the Simpsons magazines. Then there were biographies; General Patton, Abraham Lincoln, Uma Thurman - ah, right; the 'celestial body'. I gave another snicker - he was such a typical guy sometimes. Then other times he was like no-one I'd ever met.

I moved over to another bookcase and pulled at a soft leather file. I opened it up and saw the title page: Doppler Shifts: The Expanding Universe Model. A Statistical Analysis and Five-Thousand Year Projection. By John J. O'Neill. Holy Hannah! Nowhere near as dumb as he acted.

It was dated 1980, making it twenty five years old and therefore pretty out of date. But it would still be interesting. I tucked the file under my arm and headed outside to a lounger someone - Jack, no doubt - had thoughtfully set up for me.

I lay down and opened the file, then began reading, losing myself in the General's writings. How he made statistical analyses interesting was anyone's guess, but I was fascinated by the way his mind worked. There was no chance on Netu I was ever letting him play dumb again! Some of his theories were a little out there, and logic sometimes took a vacation, but it really was an excellent piece of work all in all.

By the time I'd finished reading the dissertation, I was pretty thirsty. I looked at my watch and yelped. Wow; 1300 hours already! Where had the time gone?

"Sam? You okay?" Daniel wandered over to me. "You're looking pretty beat." He frowned down at the file. "You'd better not be working there; we're on vacation, remember?"

I smiled at him. "Just reading, Daniel," I soothed the guy I thought of as my brother. He was much closer to me than Mark had ever been - we'd literally gone through Hell together. I closed the file, not willing for Daniel to find out about Jack's hidden side. If Jack wanted him to know, he'd tell him.

I got up off the lounger, stifling a gasp as my stomach muscles protested the sudden movement. "How about some lunch?" I asked brightly.

"You're cooking?" He gave me a dubious look as we headed into the house.

I frowned at him. "You really do have a rotten streak, Daniel Jackson," I said.

"Hey; I've eaten your MREs before!" he said.

"And you didn't think it was the fact that they were MREs that made them suck?" I teased right back. I knew full well the guys' opinion of my domestic abilities - or lack thereof. I actually could cook, and pretty well, but when there was only me around - and add the fact that I sometimes didn't get home for days at a time - it was far easier to simply nuke something or call for take-out.

Three hours later

"Do I smell cake?" Jack asked, bouncing into the kitchen with an energy that belied his frequent complaints about getting old.

"Uh-huh," Cassie mumbled around a gargantuan slice of pie. "Sam ..." - she coughed and swallowed - "Sam's been cooking up a storm while you've been out playing frontier man."

"Sam?" Jack looked warily at Cassie's bulging cheeks. "Should I get the Doc in here?"

I rolled my eyes. "General; I actually can cook, you know. Why d'you assume I'm a disaster in the kitchen?"

His eyes twinkled. "The huge pile of takeout menus, perhaps, Carter," he shot back. He sniffed cautiously. "Smells pretty good, though," he offered.

"Have some," Cassie said, proffering a vanilla pound cake - now half gone. Janet and Daniel had descended on the cake a quarter hour earlier and had stuffed themselves.

Jack took the smallest portion possible and bit warily into it. He chewed fewer than the recommended number of times, then swallowed. "Hmmm, not bad," he said. "But I'll need to test another slice to make sure." He cut a somewhat larger portion and wolfed it down, his eyes closing in bliss. "Carter?" His eyes opened. "Is there brandy in this?"

"Yes, sir," I said lightly. "It's an old Carter family recipe - my dad gave it to me just after he blended with Selmak."

He smiled at me. "Always knew there was a reason I loved your dad," he said. "So ... why've you been holding out on this ability?" He gave me another charming smile.

Oh, you're one to talk!, I mused indignantly. "Sir; none of you ever asked if I could cook - you just assumed I couldn't. And I didn't want to end up taking all the KP shifts on missions."

"Carter; would we have done that to you?" Jack protested. I just looked at him, and he chuckled slightly. "Point taken," he acknowledged.

Suddenly, the door crashed open and Janet came in, lips set and eyebrows furrowed. Daniel came in shortly thereafter. "Janet?"

"Leave me alone, Daniel!" she snapped. "Just ... mind your own business!" With that, she stormed off for her bedroom. She was too small to flounce, but she made an impressive exit nevertheless.

"Trouble in paradise, Daniel?" Jack teased.

"Just ... leave it, Jack," Daniel retorted irritably, heading off for his own bedroom.

That night

I woke up and stretched lazily, then leaned over to look at the clock. 0300. What on Earth ...?

I turned and punched my pillow, then became aware of two angry voices. Janet and Jack. "Christ, Jan! You're a doctor, for cryin' out loud!"

"I'm still human, Jack!" the petite woman retorted. "And it hurts ... so damn much."

"Oh, God ...," Jack rumbled. "Come here, honey," he added more gently.

My curiosity piqued, I got up and headed toward the living room, to find Janet enclosed in a massive Jack-patented bear-hug crying her heart out. I smiled slightly at the sight. Jack O'Neill; military hugging machine. "Is everything okay, Janet?" I asked softly, wondering what could have caused my strong best friend to fall apart like this. The last time I'd seen her so upset was when Nirrti's damn experiments had nearly killed Cassie.

Janet looked up from her position in Jack's arms, her eyes streaming. "No," she choked out. "I've messed everything up ... so badly."

"Is it Daniel?" I asked curiously.

She shook her head violently. "No. Well ... a little bit," she said. "I've already told the General the truth; you need to know also as his 2IC ... and my best friend." Her hands went up to cover her face.

"Jan? You can tell me anything," I said, sitting down next to her.

She looked up once more. "I'm ... resigning my Air Force commission, Sam," she said. "I can't ... do it anymore. Can't pretend anymore."

"Resigning?" I was shocked - she'd made such good progress the last few months. "I thought you were getting better."

"Sam ... just let me say it, will you?" Janet burst out. I squeezed her hand in silent apology. "I ... need help. I've been taking pain killers for over a year. I don't know when I stopped really needing them, but now ... I need them."

Oh, God ... The Air Force had no place for addicts. She'd effectively killed her career. But that was the last thing she needed to hear. "So ... what now?" I asked, putting an arm around her, brushing my hand against Jack's in the process.

"So ... I try to get over this, and start again," Janet replied softly. "I'll never be able to work as a doctor again, but I couldn't kid myself any longer. I've not been fit for duty since 666."

"Doc ... you can't throw your life's work away over this," Jack protested. "For cryin' out loud, you stuck by me when I came back from Iraq!" He frowned at an evidently disturbing memory, and I wondered what else had happened to him when he'd been held prisoner those long months. "Effective immediately, you're on two months personal leave. Get your head on straight, then come back and torture us all with huge honkin' needles." He held up his hand as Janet opened her mouth to protest. "That's an order, Major!" he barked, but his eyes were tender.

More tears appeared. "God ... Jack," she choked out, shrinking until she appeared even tinier. Jack?

"C'mere," he ordered softly, wrapping her in his arms once more as she cried against him.

The next day

"Good morning, campers!" Jack caroled, bounding into the kitchen, a huge triumphant grin on his face. "Guess who caught a fish today, kids?"

Teal'c tilted his head curiously. "There are no fish in that lake, O'Neill," he stated.

"That's what I always thought," Jack said with another grin. "Shows what I know, huh?"

I loved him like this - the wide, open grin we saw so rarely. I'd often seen him amused, triumphant, gleeful ... yet always with a shadow in his eyes. Rarely had I seen him so happy as he'd been the last few days. I smiled slightly, my feminine ego allowing me to think maybe I had a little something to do with that. Although we'd gone no further than a gentle brush of lips, there was now a promise of better things to come.

"I kid you not, T," Jack continued, digging in his basket and producing a bass that big. "Boy, are we gonna eat well this morning!"

There was a sharp knock on the door. "Yeah; hold on!" Jack complained, pivoting on his heel. Another knock sounded. "For cryin' out loud; hold your bladder!" he yelled.

By the sounds, it appeared as if he nearly wrenched the door off its hinges. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" he said, slipping instantly from 'Jack' to 'General'. That told me that our visitors were USAF.

A low conversation - the import of which I couldn't make out - ensued, then Jack stormed back in, the grin gone and his brown eyes nearly black with anger. "I have to leave for a coupla days," he said. "Seems the Pentagon wants my ass over somethin'."

"Jack ... you're on leave," Daniel said.

Jack shrugged. "That's what I told 'em, but seems Jumper has other ideas."

Jumper? General John Jumper; Air Force Chief of Staff?

"Anyway, I'll be back in a couple. In the meantime, make yourselves at home, kids," Jack continued. "Carter; look after yourself."

"Yes, sir," I said.

He touched one hand gently to my cheek - a wisp of a touch - then strode back out of the kitchen.

Several days later

"You miss him, don't you?"

Daniel looked at me with piercing blue eyes that didn't miss anything; no matter how hard he tried to portray the bumbling archeologist.

I sighed. "It's ... complicated, Daniel," I ground out. For God's sake; he'd worked with the SGC for nearly eight years! He knew Air Force regs nearly as well as any officer!

He shook his head. "You make it complicated, Sam," he told me. He regarded me solemnly, looking very boyish for his nearly forty years. I so often thought of him as a little brother that I sometimes forgot he was actually a couple years older than me. "You and Jack; you're meant for each other." He took my free hand. "What if the regs weren't an issue?"

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Daniel ...," I muttered. I couldn't deal with 'What if' right now. I'd tortured myself with that thought for years.

Flashback - several months earlier

Lost in thought, I gazed blankly at my laptop. My CO strolled in. "Carter."

"Sir," I replied.

"I never thought I'd hear myself utter these words: I need that report."

Crap! "Right! Um, I just need to ... uh ... finish typing up my notes." I rummaged through the paperwork on the desk. "Uh ... yeah, I'll have it for you first thing tomorrow."

The General looked at his watch. "It is tomorrow," he pointed out.

I looked at my own watch. "Oh," I said rather lamely.

"I'm joking! I don't need the report!"

Okaaaaaay. The General had his foibles, sure - was known as being somewhat eccentric - but sometimes he could be just plain weird. "Well, then, why ...?"

"Because something's going on with you. You haven't tried to confuse me with any scientific babble for the last couple of days and that's a red flag to me."

I sighed silently at his usual pretense of ignorance, then picked up the box containing the engagement ring Pete gave me. I handed it to the General. "Pete gave me this."

The General took the box, opened it, looked at the ring, then at me. "People normally wear these on their fingers."

Smart ass. Another not-so-endearing O'Neill trait.

"I haven't said yes," I said.

"And yet ... you haven't said no." He snapped the box shut with a loud click.

"I told him I needed to think about it." What was to think about? I loved him, right?

"And?" The General put the box on the desk.

"That was two weeks ago."

"Ah." Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter; meet General John J. O'Neill, king of the monosyllable.

I took a deep breath, wondering why I was confiding in him about something like this. Although we'd all grown close over the last seven plus years, the General and I had never had a personal discussion like this ... except after the Zatarc testing. "You know, all these years I've been concentrating on work - I just assumed that one day I would ...".

"Have a life?"

Like he'd been nagging me to for years. "Yeah!" I agreed.

"Yeah."

"And now it comes down to it, I don't know. I mean, every time we go through the 'gate, we risk not coming back. Is it fair to put somebody else through that?"

"Pete is a cop. I think he could handle it."

Good point. But ... "What about kids?"

"What about 'em?"

"Do I take maternity leave and then come back? What, do I drop the baby off at daycare on my way to some unexplored planet on the edge of the Crab Nebula?" Sarcasm 101, by Professor Jack O'Neill. I'd learned well.

"Carter, there are people on this base who have families."

I pondered that for a moment, then risked looking into my CO's soft chocolate eyes. Chocolate; the most wonderful thing in the known universe. Closely followed by Jack O'Neill's amazing eyes ... Focus, Sam! I took a deep breath and made myself ask the question. "What about you? If things had been different ...". I trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

The General looked seriously at me for a moment. "I wouldn't be here," he stated simply.

End flashback

I blinked back to Daniel. "But they are," I stated simply. "He's not willing for me to give up my career."

"You don't have to," Daniel said. "All one of you has to do is leave the SGC."

"Daniel?" I dropped heavily into my seat and stared piercingly at one of my best friends. "Why has the Chief of Staff summoned Jack?"

Daniel shifted uncomfortably, looking guilty. "Damn," he muttered. "He made me promise not to tell till things were decided," he said.

"Daniel ...," I growled.

I'd learned a lot about intimidation in nearly eight years serving with a former Black Ops soldier and a Jaffa. Daniel gave in quickly. "Jack spoke to General Hammond yesterday - he's submitted a formal request for immediate retirement."

Panic clutched at me. Retirement? He couldn't do that! He was too young - too vital - to leave. And if - big if - we ever got together, he'd end up resenting me. "He's talked about retirement before," I said. "He'll rescind this request."

Daniel frowned. "I don't think so, Sam," he said gently. "The job's killing him - slowly but surely. He wasn't meant for all that nit-picking piddly administrative shit."

I closed my eyes, remembering the nonchalant way he'd strolled into the Ancient ship on Maybourne's planet; the quiet 'woo-hoo' when he sat in the seat; the way he'd reacted when Harry's subjects had threatened us. "God, I've missed going off world!" he'd exclaimed joyfully, lowering his P90. He'd been like a man reborn.

The back door opened quietly. "Hey, kids," the man himself said.

I turned round. "Hey," I replied quietly, looking at him closely. He'd always had an endearing Peter Pan quality to my mind - his face not showing his years and experiences - but I now realized with a pang that the years had finally caught up with him.

Daniel was right; Jack should never have accepted the promotion. Even if he couldn't have stayed in the field much longer - and I thought he seriously under-estimated his own fitness there - there were opportunities far more attractive to a man like Jack O'Neill than running the SGC.

Even with the enemies he'd made, he was far too valuable and experienced an officer for the Air Force to sideline. He could have had his pick of assignments. So why ...?

I shook my head with a silent growl. Why was I torturing myself with these questions? I would never know the answers.

"So ... what did the Pentagon want with you, Jack?" Daniel inquired. He'd known Jack O'Neill too long to stand on ceremony.

Jack frowned slightly. "I need to talk to Carter ... alone," he said.

Daniel looked back and forth between us like a spectator at a tennis match. "Oh-kay," he agreed readily, getting up. "Maybe I'll go and bother Janet," he said. Over the last couple of days, he and the diminutive doctor had been working on rebuilding their strained friendship. Daniel had had his own experience with addiction when he'd met Shyla and had become hooked on the effects of her sarcophagus, and had been very supportive to Janet whilst not smothering her.

After Daniel had gone, Jack sat down next to me at the table. "I spoke to Hammond," he said. "Submitted my request for retirement." I opened my eyes widely, aiming for shocked surprise. I couldn't fool him, though - he'd known me too long, and I just wasn't that good an actress. "Space Monkey already told ya, didn't he?" he added wryly, using the appellation he hadn't used for years.

"Afraid so," I agreed softly. "I hope he didn't agree."

Jack looked at me narrowly. "None of them agreed," he said shortly. "They've put a 'stop loss' on my file for the next five years."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief, although the idea of waiting another five years for this man was intolerable. "Good," I said. "You're not ready to retire."

"So ... what now?" he asked. "The regs still stand in our way - hell, we've already breached them in more ways than one. But I don't want to hurt your career, Carter."

"So ... we get on with our lives," I said. "It can't be any other way," I practically whispered, dropping my eyes from his dark brown gaze.

He chuckled suddenly and my head flew up. "God, Sam ... for a genius, you can be really slow sometimes!" he said.

"What?"

"I'm not retiring, Carter, but I am being re-assed," he said. He took my hand and stroked his thumb gently across the back of it.

"You're leaving the SGC?" I said blankly, trying not to focus on the tingling sensation produced by his thumb.

"Yep," he said, with a pleased little boy grin on his face. "In two weeks' time, you'll be looking at Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, commander of the new fleet."

"What?" I said again. Oh, yeah; real genius!

"Nellis?" he prompted. "The F304s? I'll be fleet commander and also ... Captain of the Daedalus. We'll be heading for Pegasus; track down the Atlantis expedition."

I remembered the look on his face the day we'd lost contact with our world's first inter-galactic exploration team. 'No-one gets left behind' was one of Jack O'Neill's mantras and I knew he'd worked overtime trying to persuade the brass at The Pentagon to authorize a rescue mission. "And ... how long will you be gone?" I asked, trying to process this information.

"Well ... Pegasus isn't exactly a step away," he said. "Even with the Asgard hyperdrive that my favorite little gray guy gave us, it'll take about three weeks to get there. Then we'll have to search for Weir's GDO ... It could take a while."

My heart sank. He could be gone years - he might never come back. "It's an ... exciting opportunity for you, sir," I said, beginning the painful process of distancing myself. "Congratulations."

"Sam." He linked his fingers with mine. "You know there are no guarantees in life, but I'll do my best to keep my worthless butt safe."

He was not worthless. I swore to myself that he'd believe that one day. Even if I had to beat it into his stubborn skull. "And in the meantime ...?" I asked.

"You be happy," he commanded. "If you meet someone, you give him your whole heart. Let him get to know the real Sam Carter; the one with big blue eyes, great body ..."

I snorted at that.

"... and the moves that could disable him for life in three seconds flat. Be a woman and a kick-ass soldier."

That evening

I put down my knife and fork with a groan. I was literally stuffed - I felt like a beached whale. "That was great, Jack," I told him, now accustomed to calling him by his first name. Perhaps a little more accustomed than was good for us as things currently stood - for the next two weeks, we were still in the same chain of command. "But you're going to have to use a winch to get me out of this chair."

His eyes twinkled. "Oh, I think this old carcass can cope with hauling you around," he said.

Recalling the ease with which he'd lifted me out of his truck and carried me to the cabin, I nodded my head with a slight blush. That wasn't the first time Jack had carried me places - after all, we'd served together for seven years - but it was the first time I'd been conscious to appreciate his hidden strength. "I wish you'd stop calling yourself old," I told him. "You're not old."

"Huh." He gave a slight snort of amusement. "Wait till you're staring fifty in the face, Sam. You'll be singing a different tune."

I sipped my wine and perused the man sitting next to me. His face wasn't exactly chiseled, and his nose had been broken more than once, but he was very good looking. And as for the gray hair ... well, Jack O'Neill could single-handedly make gray hair sexy. Maybe it was the contrast with the dark eyes and tanned skin.

He smiled. "Whatcha thinking, Sam?" he asked.

I took another sip of wine. "You," I said boldly. "You're very handsome."

He choked on his beer, his eyes wide. "And I always thought you had taste!" he teased.

Maybe the wine was to blame for what I said next. "I have excellent taste," I said. "I like your legs, your ass, the width of your shoulders. You've got a great smile that you should show more often, and the best eyes in the world. What's not to like?"

He smirked, although I could see him go red. "You've looked at my butt?" he said.

"All those years of watching your six on missions? It wasn't exactly a hardship!" I laughed back.

"Huh." He chuckled, then looked me up and down deliberately. "I like your six as well," he said. He made a squeezing motion with his free hand. "Round and cheeky - suits you perfectly."

I'd incautiously chugged down the last of my wine, and nearly choked on it at that comment. "Jack ...," I said. "Are you hitting on me?"

His eyes fell and he picked at the label on his bottle. "Sorry," he muttered. "I keep forgetting who we are."

"It's okay; I don't mind," I reassured him. "Besides, I started it." He smirked and my gaze was drawn to his lips. Thin, but nicely shaped - and they were surprisingly soft, my hormones reminded me. I traced his bottom lip with an index finger. Nice. Very, very nice.

"Sam. You sure?" He brushed back some hair that had fallen into my eye.

"I am," I said. Oh geez, it was really going to happen! Years of suppressed sexual tension was about to be released. It would either be wonderful or a huge anti-climax. In some ways, it would make life much easier if the latter were the case - I'd be able to move on. But I was sick of playing it safe.

He put down his beer, then took my glass out of my hands, setting it down on the table. He touched his hand to my cheek and took my lips in a soft kiss, tugging gently at my lower lip.

I'd been kissed before, many times - I was hardly a nun, although not that experienced either - but I was pretty sure this was the best kiss I'd ever had. I slid my fingers into the close-cropped hair that still somehow managed to stick out madly and opened my lips to his questing tongue. I sighed happily as our tongues dueled gently - this was even better than my hallucination!

The kiss remained gentle, but not tentative - Jack O'Neill was a man, not a boy - and he didn't push it any further. We broke apart when the need for oxygen became too great. "Wow!" I gulped.

"Yeah." He gave me a smirk. "If I'd known that a kiss would've reduced Doctor Carter - queen of techno-babble - to monosyllables, I'd've planted one on you the day we met."

I chuckled at that, glad for his sense of humor - it dispelled any awkwardness we might have felt. "I would've hit you if you'd tried," I said. "You were such an ass that day." A hot, sexy ass - but an ass nonetheless.

"Yeah?" He grinned devilishly. "And you were an uptight Air Force feminist brat with a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas. But you were right when you said I really would like you when I got to know you."

I smiled, remembering the sarcastic "Oh, I adore you already, Captain" - moments before he shoved me into the wormhole. I got up and began to gather up the dishes. "Well, in payment for that meal, I'll wash up," I told him.

"Huh; you've already paid me, Sam!" he said, touching a finger to my lips. "But, if you insist ... here's your change!" He put a sweet kiss onto the tip of my nose and I laughed. I'd always been pretty serious, but meeting this man had changed me - I laughed a lot more than I used to. I'd become a better soldier, a better scientist and a more rounded person.

"Hey; what have I told you about giggling?" he grumbled with a pout, making me laugh harder.

The tears were now pouring down my cheeks and my stomach was in knots. It hadn't been that funny but sometimes I would get these silly girly moments when I couldn't stop laughing. It usually occurred when I was exhausted, but could happen at other times too. "God; stop!" I begged him, clutching at my abdomen, the dishes crashing to the floor.

"Crap!" My giggles beginning to dissipate, I got down on my haunches and began to gather up some of the larger pieces.

Jack got down on his knees, helping me. "Klutz," he said cheerfully, planting a soft kiss onto my surprised mouth.

I couldn't help myself; I dropped the pieces, slid my hands into his hair and explored his lips, teeth, tongue and palate greedily with my own lips and tongue. After about two seconds, he took control, sliding his hands down to my hips to haul me to my feet. We sank into each other, tongues fighting for dominance ...

"Ahem!" someone coughed.

Jack groaned. "Daniel; your timing sucks," he complained as he untangled his long body from mine. "Jacob?" he nearly squawked.

My eyes flew open. Oh. My. God. Retired Major General Jacob Carter stood next to Daniel, looking like he was about to have an apoplectic fit. "Hi, Dad," I said weakly.

My dad didn't even look at me. "O'Neill; you'd better have a damn good explanation for this!" he barked, playing the superior officer stroke concerned dad card.

"Could we talk in private, sir?" Jack said as respectfully as he ever got when dealing with the brass. He and my dad had always had a weird friendship, based on some cheerful antagonism, the alpha male thing and a mutual respect for each other's abilities and who they were. It hurt me that Jack just might have lost my dad's respect.

"Why?" my dad barked. "You weren't shy a minute ago when you were all over my daughter, Airman!"

I could've sworn Jack blanched.

"For God's sake, you two!" my dad burst forth as Daniel skedaddled hastily. "You ever hear of the frat regs! I'd be perfectly within my rights to haul you in for court martial!"

"Sir; I'm the senior officer - I take full responsibility for this," Jack said, instinctively trying to protect me.

"Hey; I kissed you back!" I said indignantly. Jack took responsibility to extremes sometimes. If there was going to be trouble over this, I was determined that he wouldn't bear it alone. For better, for worse, etc. I turned to my father, hands on my hips. "Yes; we've crossed the line," I said, "and maybe you should report us. But ..." - I took a deep breath - "I love this man. And he loves me."

I'd swear the air was super-charged with the tension currently flying around.

A chuckle emerged suddenly from my father. "Dad?" I said uncertainly. He was laughing?

"Sorry, kiddo," he said. "I heard about Jack being re-assed a couple days ago - knew neither of you would wait for long after that to get your act together."

I blushed. "You knew about our feelings?" I said.

"I saw the chemistry when I ran into you at the award ceremony in DC," Dad replied, "but knew neither of you would do anything about it." I blushed again. My CO had been looking particularly fine in his dress blues that day, and he'd been light-hearted and charming by his standards. My heart had fluttered a little.

"I started to worry when I heard about that mess with the Zatarc hunt, but relaxed when the Entity thing happened," Dad continued. He put a hand on my cheek. "I knew then that Jack's feelings wouldn't stop him doing his duty, although I'd rather he hadn't proved it by zatting you - twice."

Jack exhaled noisily. "So, what the hell was that performance?" he exclaimed.

"You don't think I was entitled to bust your chops a little, Jack?" Dad teased. "If not as a superior officer, then as Sammie's father." He looked at me. "Now, sweetheart, give your old man a hug."

I gave a mingled sigh of relief and huff of exasperation, then allowed my father to draw me into a gentle embrace. "Hey, Dad," I said, alarmed to feel the bones of his shoulder blades. He'd always been a thin man, but since blending with Selmak and joining the Tok'ra he'd developed a good deal of wiry muscle.

I pulled back from the hug and examined his face thoughtfully. His dark eyes were tired looking, and had deep shadows under them. "Dad; is Selmak not looking after you properly?" I inquired.

He blinked. "It's been a rough year," he said. "Baal's been keeping us hopping."

I nodded my head, certain I could feel Jack tensing near me. Of his many horrific memories, Baal's fortress figured pretty prominently. Since the final split in the troubled alliance last year and Anubis's defeat, Baal had been a busy boy. He'd taken control of the Kull warriors and was systematically wiping out the other System Lords.

"Jacob," Jack said suddenly, "you wouldn't bullshit a fellow General, would you?"

Dad smirked. "It's fine, Jack," he said, patting the other man's shoulder. "We just need a vacation. That's why I'm here. Thought I'd stay here for a couple weeks. Selmak always wanted to visit your cabin."

Fury shot into Jack's features - a fury I hadn't seen since Daniel had ascended. "Jacob ...," he growled. "I can ... feel it," he said hesitantly. "Something's off balance," he added.

What? "Jack ...," I said warily, putting my hand out to him. "Are you all right?"

He blinked. "Maybe I'm ... crazy or something," he grumbled. "But ... Selmak's ill." He put his hand to the back of my dad's neck - where Selmak was located - and closed his eyes. "She's dying," he said.

"Dad?" I grabbed my father's hand, for the moment not caring how Jack had learned this. "Is it true?"

My dad stared at Jack. "Yeah," he said tiredly. "She's been ill for a few weeks now - I've been keeping her going till we could come here. I wanted to see you again."

"Dad ...". The tears were now rolling down my cheeks for an entirely different reason. "You can't die," I protested.

"Sammie ...". He clutched my hand. "Selmak's given me seven years I never would've had. And it's been one hell of a ride for an old soldier like me."

"But ... why didn't the Tok'ra take Selmak out? You could come back here or get another symbiote."

"I don't want another symbiote, kiddo." Dad's dark eyes bore into me. "We love each other - I don't suppose you can understand that a symbiote and a host can actually love each other."

He was right. My brief possession - I couldn't call it anything else - by Jolinar had left me unable to appreciate the bond that could develop between a willing host and a Tok'ra. "No," I admitted, "but I can't believe you're willing to die! I thought you loved me! How can you leave me?"

"Sammie ...".

I wrenched away from him, sobbing wretchedly. It was too much for me to cope with - my baby and my father dying in the space of a month. "Jack," I muttered. "I have to get out of here."

He slid his arm around my shoulders and I sagged gratefully into him, no longer caring what my father thought. The hell with him. "Be strong, Sam," he said, pressing a soft kiss to my damp cheek. He turned to Dad, and put his free hand to the back of his neck once more.

Suddenly he closed his eyes. "Jack?" Dad and I both gasped.

"Sssshhh," Jack mumbled, increasing the pressure on Dad's neck and manipulating his long fingers.

"Selmak's getting stronger," Dad said suddenly. "But ... how?"

I was equally bewildered. Jack had managed to heal Bra'tac when Ronan had tried to kill him - but that was after he'd gone 'Ancient'.

Jack opened his eyes and I shuddered at the bone-deep weariness in them. He swayed on his feet, then smiled weakly at my Dad. "Hey," he said lamely.

"Lucy ...," Dad said in his best 'Ricky' voice - "I think you got some 'splainin' to do!"

Now, that was just creepy. Had Dad become like Jack or had Jack become like my dad? Dismissing that, I put my hand on Jack's. "What the hell ...?" I said, gesturing wildly.

Jack gave me another weak smile. "Long version or short?" he asked.

"Short - for now," I told him, frowning as he wobbled again. Dad and I helped him over to the couch and we sat down. "Now talk," I said.