Don't hate me for not updating! I wrote about eleven pages, but it turned out all angsty and depressing, so I tossed it and rewrote it more lighthearted… and slightly silly. Also, very distracted by the season premieres of SG1, Atlantis and Galactica, so there's another good excuse. : )

Onward with the fic...

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Chapter 3

Jack waved away his security escort, ensuring the man that he'd be fine on his own and wouldn't get lost, or spill coffee on any of the expensive equipment.

Cheyenne Mountain. In some sense, it was like coming home to a family. A completely dysfunctional family who ran around with guns, but a family nonetheless.

The first thing he'd done was meet with General George Hammond. Nice guy... from Texas. He'd been issued a new ID badge as well a string of security codes that he'd have to write on his hand to remember, if he bothered to at all. It had felt good to exchange his civilian clothes for a pair of BDU's... suddenly it seemed like he'd never left the SGC. Of course, there were more than a few changes. First of all there were way more personnel running around, looking wide eyed and panicked. Extra hallways that had once held storage facilities had been converted into labs, offices, and holding cells. The coffee machine had moved two inches to the right. Other than that, the people were exactly the same. All on high alert, like the world was going to end sometime within the next three minutes. God- he'd missed the energy of the military. The atmosphere was thick with it. There wasn't much of a life left for him since he'd retired, which was why he'd never expected a visit from one of the USAF's elite.

Colonel Samantha Carter.

An actual Colonel, not a hooker. His nose still throbbed with a mixture of pain and embarrassment as he remembered last night. He figured he should apologize eventually, but he loathed having to face her again. The woman really knew how to hit a man, and he didn't doubt that she'd had some practice. Somehow she'd managed to get his nose and split his lip in one stroke. Now if he could just make it to the infirmary to get a few magic pain-relieving pills, and avoid a run in with-

"Colonel Carter! What did you do to your hand?"

"Call me Sam, doc... and you don't want to know."

Jack skidded to a halt, just inside the doorway of the infirmary. Years of special ops training and cub scouts failed him, as he stood wide eyed and almost frozen in place. There she was, Carter, sitting on one of the beds looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. She turned to his direction, a second after he side stepped into one of the storage rooms.

He rolled his eyes at his obvious reflex reaction, but he was pretty certain he hadn't been seen. He wasn't hiding. Jack O'Neill never hid from anything, unless it was three times his body weight and carrying a big honkin' gun.

"Well did the other guy walk away from this?" Jack heard the small brunette, presumably the doctor, ask warily.

"Unfortunately," came Carter's clipped reply.

Jack grimaced at her tone, but he supposed it was a good thing she didn't mention his name.

"Look, it's really nothing, doesn't even hurt, so can you just clear me to go off world already?" Carter persisted.

"Well nothing's broken, just a little swollen… I can prescribe some mild-"

"No pills. The mission is in under six hours, need to be on my feet."

"These won't affect your performance, Sam. It's not even worth putting on your medical record, now take them, and I'll see you when you get back."

The young Colonel nodded in reply, hopping off the infirmary bed, and unknowingly passing the other Colonel as she left the infirmary. He sighed in relief before straightening up like he hadn't just been undercover in a storage room.

"Doc! The name's O'Neill, just joined the SGC. I'm probably going to be in here a lot, so I figured I'd stop by, check the place out, sample some of the pain meds, y'know? So what do you say… Janet?" he asked, reading the woman's name tag and offering a charming smile.

"I take it the meds are for that nose? Let me guess... 'I don't want to know'?" she said, flipping open a new medical file, without missing a beat.

"Exactly."

"I should look at that lip too, Looks like it may need stitch-"

"Ah! I see we need to set up some ground rules. Firstly, no needle goes near me, ever."

"I'll remember that for when you're lying on a gurney with your internal organs hanging out."

"Excellent. So meds? I'll have whatever Carter had."

Janet sighed, tossing the man the small white bottle, and accurately assuming he wouldn't read the label, she added, "No more than two every six hours, got it?"

"Yes Ma'am!"

Jack headed down to the briefing room, taking the long way around. He wasn't avoiding her so much as avoiding everyone else. It had taken some time for the news of his return to circulate and now… apparently he was some sort of an icon. The guy who killed the evil Lord whatsit back on Abydos. A brilliant tactician. A hero.

Jack snorted to himself. While killing Ra hadn't exactly been a walk on the sunny side of the street, he could have never done it without his team… and one dorky Archaeologist who'd chosen a life of sand and sun.

He paused at the entrance, taking a steadying breath before stepping inside.

"Boys! Miss me?"

Like all briefing rooms he'd ever entered, this one was brimming with an uneasy excitement. The group of men involved in their own discussion abruptly ceased their banter and turned to him simultaneously. They broke out in greeting and crowded around him, shaking his hand before beginning the traditional male back-slapping ritual.

It was so good to see a few familiar faces in the group... Kawalsky, Ferreti (true to character, with his arm in a sling), Warren, and of course Daniel. Wait-- Daniel?

"Daniel?"

"Jack!" the young archaeologist all but leapt from his seat.

"DANIEL?"

''JACK!"

"...And then they ran through fields of yellow daisies into each other's arms," Kawalsky sighed, "I love reunions."

Jack thwacked the major in the back of the head.

"Why didn't you tell me Daniel was here?" Jack snapped, "How you doing Danny?" he asked grasping the other man's shoulder's as if to make sure he was really there.

"I've... been better Jack." the other man admitted, his smile faltering for the first time.

"No kidding! I honestly didn't think you'd make it a week on Abydos without dying of heat exhaustion, or getting eaten by one of those drooling yak things. Sure you're okay? Who would have thought... Daniel Jackson an Earthling again."

"We'll talk about it later- wow, what did you do to yourself?" Daniel asked, noticing the bruising on the Colonel's face.

"Weirdest thing. I was sleepwalking, and got attacked by a really vicious... door. Long story. So what brings you back to the SGC? Thought you'd buried the Stargate back on Abydos?"

"Now that would be a long story. Sam will cover it in the briefing I guess. I'm assuming you've accepted the mission?"

"Of course he accepted the mission. You can take the man outta the action..." Kawalsky grinned.

"Hey- I was perfectly content with my lifestyle," Jack lied. "The Air Force just finds it convenient to pull me out of retirement whenever they feel like it."

"Just one job and you can go right back to retirement," a voice from the doorway said coolly.

Jack's eyes snapped up, and he had that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Colonel." He said, clearing his throat.

"Ah, at least we got my rank right this time O'Neill," she smoothly entered the room, nodding in greeting to the rest of the airmen.

"Hey Jack- I didn't get a chance to do that... thing... we talked about yesterday." Kawalsky warned, referring to the fact that he hadn't given Sam Carter the Colonel-O'Neill's-a-charming-blundering-idiot-please-forgive-him speech, and probably wasn't going to.

Jack tossed him a 'no shit?' look. "That's okay. I can handle it myself." he replied with a forced grin.

"Hey Daniel, you going to be okay for this briefing?" Sam asked, touching the man's arm reassuringly as she took a seat beside him. He nodded in reply.

Jack almost didn't recognize her voice once it dropped the icy formality. He realized Carter must have been the one who'd gone and retrieved Daniel from Abydos in the first place… but what the hell for?

"So! Where's General Hammond?" Jack asked, leaning back in his seat, eager for some answers.

"The meeting concerning mission objectives took place yesterday. This briefing is for your benefit, to get you up to speed on what's going on, and to strategize our method of entering the enemy camp. Now if there are no more questions, I'd like to get started." Sam asked, pulling out neatly arranged documents and passing them around.

Jack sighed... he hadn't expected her to welcome him with open arms and cookies, but the ice queen routine wasn't helping. At least he had his old team on his side. He'd been surprised by flood of memories seeing their faces had brought back. Of course, he'd run into Kawalsky and the guys every now and then to catch up over drinks... but it wasn't the same. They'd brought back memories of his first off-world mission- good and bad.

"Hey Daniel, where's that wife of yours? Sha're, wasn't it?"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"What? What did I say?"

( a few painful hours later )

Sam groaned inwardly. Jack O'Neill was making things so difficult- and she could have sworn it was intentional. So maybe she hadn't exactly been pleasant to him in return, but who could blame her? The man had mistaken her for a hooker, and she was certain she'd never been more insulted in her entire life. That did not, however, stop her from laughing herself silly for a good half hour after she'd left his home. She usually prided herself on her composure, but the whole situation had been so ridiculous, and she knew he must have been equally embarassed. Not that she was about to admit that to him. There had been a pang of guilt on her part for swinging at him so hard, but she'd read his file (as well as some parts she wasn't supposed to have read) so she knew he could take it. Unfortunately, he was back to being an incorrigible ass again this morning, but this wasn't about personality. It was about the damn mission... and if he and Daniel kept this incessant banter going any longer, she was going to go insane... or simply cry. The latter would have really distressed the room full of very male airmen.

"So... there's more of Ra's race around, and that's the guy who came through the Stargate, and they took your wife?" Jack asked, wide eyed.

"Yes." Daniel affirmed.

"And they're the Goold?"

"Goa'uld yes."

"...Ra was a Gool'aud?"

"Uh huh."

"So is Apophis?"

"Correct."

"So... Ra... is Apophis?"

"Yes. No- what?"

"Ugh!" Sam finally exclaimed out of sheer intellectual frustration.

"Listen O'Neill," she said, holding his attention immediately.

"Us good. Apophis bad. Clear enough for you?" she said, slowly for his benefit.

"Ah, see that's all I really needed. What's our game plan?" he asked with innocent curiosity, tapping his long fingers rhythmically on the table... just enough to drive her crazy, but not reason enough to shoot him.

Even his grin was infuriating. He was clearly playing dumb on purpose, but Sam had also noticed how he made Daniel smile --really smile-- for the first time since she'd met either of them. At least something good had come of this.

"That's what we were hoping you could help us out with Jack," Kawalsky said, not bothering to mask the urgency in his voice. "Tell us what arsenal you think we should be packing? Chances are they've got this place set up like on the ship. These guys aren't big on originality."

"Small arms and P90s would be a good place to start. Anything bigger than that can be transported on the MALP,." Sam cut in before Jack could reply.

"Looks like you've got it all figured out, Carter." Jack said dryly.

"Well I have had a lot longer to think about this than you have. No need to feel bad about it." she said with a reassuring, and oh-so-very condescending smile.

"Then I suppose you've already got a squeaky clean plan to get a foot in through the door?"

"Actually, I've taken the liberty of creating a digitally rendered model of the fortress based on the schematics the Unmanned Aerial Vehicle returned to us."

"What she say?" Jack asked his teammates his breath.

"She drew us a picture," Kawalsky explained.

"Ah, I like pictures!" Jack said as she popped up a diagram on the screen..

"Sorry to dissapoint you O'Neill, but these pictures aren't topless and they don't come with name's like 'Bambi' or 'Chiquita'," Sam said dryly, sending a muted ripple of laughter through her audience before Jack silenced them with a glare.

"As I was saying... this is the enemy base. The yellow markers indicate foot patrols, the blue are defense posts. The red structure is obviously a fort of some kind. Preliminary readings indicate its walls -- marked in orange -- are made of an irregular sediment, nothing a few stick of C4 can't handle. Assuming there are no sub-levels or autonomic defense mechanisms against us, getting through shouldn't be a problem. The area is particularly dense with vegetation, but we can still advance through the paths marked in blue, indigo, and yellow. Understood?"

Sam's smile faltered a little as a silence filed the room.

A hand raised in the air.

"Yes Colonel," Sam sighed.

"What's the green?"

"Trees," she replied almost defensively.

"Trees? Why the hell would you put trees on a tactical strike diagram? Carter, sit. It's my turn."

"But I haven't finish-"

He walked up to her, pulling her little laser pointer out of her fingers, "I'm sure whatever you were going to say next was simply fascinating, but half these men aren't following you, and the rest are still trying to figure out what color 'indigo' is. This is why you brought me here in the first place, now give me a little space here, will ya?"

Something in his voice made her nod in reply. He hadn't blatantly given her an order, but he was insisting on a little trust.

"Okay boys! Gather 'round- can I borrow this, Danny?" Jack asked grabbing the Archaeologist's coffee mug and placing it at the center of the table.

"That... is the enemy base."

Sam could do nothing but watch in amazement... and feel slightly envious. While the airmen had looked at her with panicked, glazed over eyes, they'd loosened up and concentrated as O'Neill outlined a different –annoyingly better- strategy. So maybe he wasn't the washed up Colonel who used to be good at his job. She knew now not to underestimate him and she wasn't going to make that mistake again. He'd obviously been keenly aware of everything she'd said even though he'd been doodling happy faces on the table for the first half hour. Now he'd stepped into a position of control, and she couldn't find fault with that.

Sixteen minutes.

That's how long it took him to come up with a tactical strike and explain it to the twelve other people in the room, whereas she'd agonized over her strategy for two days. Of course, he glanced at her unnecessarily complicated computer model every now and then, but it was all laid out on the table. Literally.

"Now Kawalsky, your team is the paperclip. Carter, Daniel and I are the pencil. "

"Whoa- how come you get to be the pencil?"

"Because we have Carter on our team. We're sharper than you." Jack explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "As I was saying. Paperclip rounds from the North-East, pencil from the south to establish a perimeter blocking the passage to the Stargate. I want claymores all along the ridge, set up other defenses as you see fit- if there's a firefight, I want to be able to take them out at a distance. That said, you will not directly engage the enemy unless forced to do so. Starting a war is not what we're here to do, so I want one clean strike on this one, kids. When things get messy, people die." Jack stated, handing it off to Sam to continue.

"Our goal is to retrieve Sha're. Gaining intelligence on the Goa'uld is secondary but it's still a priority," she explained, "Both teams will each be given two GDO's. This device broadcasts an identification code through an open wormhole, so the SGC will know who's knocking at the door. I strongly suggest everyone on the team memorizes their IDC. In the event you are captured, or somehow left behi-"

"You won't be left behind." Jack interjected.

Sam tossed him an annoyed look. "Of course not. I meant that if you fall behind enemy lines, and your team is unable to retrieve you, your iris codes will be locked out, and you will not be able to return home. If the risk assesment comes back positive, a rescue team will be sent for you within 24 hours."

"In other words, nobody's going to get left in the hands of the snakeheads. We'll come back for you. That said, nobody here is going to get captured, tortured, or killed, because then you're just ruining it for the rest of us. Understood?"

A ripple of 'yes sirs' echoed across the room.

"We ship out at 0900 Earth time. Dismissed." Sam nodded to the teams.

Everyone made their excuses and hurried off, each having a million things to prepare before departure. Only the two Colonels remained in the room.

"Snakeheads?" Sam asked, with the beginnings of a smile. Jack stood up and sauntered towards her, allowing her, for the first time, to get a full blown effect of the uniform. Definitely a far cry from thedishevelled man she'd met yesterday... though, seeing him wearing nothing but faded jeans hadn't exactly been a turn off either. Had the situation been different, then she might have had a very opposite reaction than the one he'd seen. Fortunately, he was Air Force too, which meant that she didn't have to ponder the possibility... or impossibility of the issue.

"What? Too much with the name-calling?"

"No... no, fairly accurate considering the intel we got from our last mission. See, the Goa'uld parasites actually burrow their way through the spinal-"

"Lunch!"

"What?"

"I'm starving, and Daniel just ran off without me, bastard. Wanna get lunch before we leave?"

"Uh... no. I've got work to do."

"What, a guy mistakes you for a hooker, and suddenly he's not good enough to eat with?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

"I guess not. Look, about yesterday..."

"Never happened. Forget about it." she said, gathering her documents into a neat- painfully organized- pile.

"Really? Wow, if you were my ex-wife we'd probably still be together."

"I think widow is more accuracte, seeing has how I'd have shot you a long time ago."

"Trying to apologize here."

"No need to, we're military. There's 'you screwed up, move on' and there's 'you screwed up, now you're dead'. There's no room for apologies."

Jack frowned. It was hard to believe someone like her could be more hardened on the inside than she was on the outside. For a moment he wondered what made her the way she was, but that was getting into emotional territory that he knew he didn't want to dwell on.

"Well I don't work that way Carter. Now I need us to be on the same team here, or else we might as well scrub the mission right now. Are we good?"

"Relax Colonel. I'll follow orders and do my duty, and if it makes you feel better, I'll be more civil. Happy?"

"Exuding with glee, yes, thank you.."

She nodded, forced a smile, then turned, leaving him to his own devices.

"Deja vu," he muttered to himself. At least she hadn't hit him this time.

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So, verdict?