Jack sighed deeply, one hand tucked under his chin while the other twirled a pen idly. Paperwork. It really sucked. He wondered vaguely what would happen if some of it, y'know, 'spontaneously' combusted. Nothing he could do about it, really. It would happen so fast.

Jack let that train of thought chug into oblivion, sighing again as he gazed at the piles of paper on his desk. He was glad, of course, that Colonel Havelock's killer had been found and life could return to normal...or it's regular level of weirdness, anyway. But all this damn paperwork! It would almost have been easier if Gibbs had killed Hoedemaker.

"Aim for the center mass," Jack grumbled, settling down to the task ahead of him. "That's how the train ya. But no! You gotta show off and hit a moving target in the knee. Mr. Marine Sniper, saving the world one blown knee at a time."

"The paperwork's worse when they're killed," Gibbs commented drily. Jack glanced up to see the NCIS agent standing in the door. "Trust me, I know."

"Hmph," Jack grunted as Gibbs walked in and took a seat. "Makes my knees hurt just thinking about it."

"Well," Gibbs observed, "if you hadn't been jumping out of those perfectly good airplanes..."

"You trying to tell me you never jumped?" Jack replied incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

"You saying you don't believe me?" Gibbs returned, matching the eyebrow.

There was a long pause before Jack rolled his eyes. "So, you're taking off now?"

"Yep."

"Leaving me with all the paperwork."

"We've got our fair share."

"I'm sure," Jack smiled.

The briefing room buzzed as nine people, strangers a week ago, talked animatedly to one another. The NCIS team was waiting for their ride to the airport, and Jack and SG-1 had come to see them off.

"This has been fun," Tony grinned smoothly, turning up the charm. "We should do it again sometime."

"What, have a Marine murdered?" Sam shot back, disgusted.

"Thanks for letting me set up in your lab," Abby piped up, defusing the situation.

"No problem, anytime," Sam replied, gratefully turning her attention to Abby.

"We have got to talk about some of your awesome equipment," Abby said animatedly, eyes widening with excitement.

"Hey, I'd love to!" Sam responded. "Did you see the EMP generator?"

"No! You seriously have one?"

"It's been a pleasure, my boy," Ducky nodded to Daniel, offering his hand. "We really need to have a talk about your travels in Egypt. You must have some fascinating stories."

"I'm sure not as fascinating as yours, Doctor," Daniel smiled indulgently, eyes twinkling at the friendly ME.

"Oh, you flatter me, Dr. Jackson," Ducky chuckled. "Did I tell you the one about the young man who was pushed off a cliff and lived long enough to call the police?"

"Indeed you did, DoctorMallard," Teal'c rumbled. "I was particularly fond of that one, as well as the tale of the woman who was skinned for her tattoo."

"Oh, that's one of my favorites," Ducky agreed.

"Say hey to Grace for me, okay?" Jack requested, clapping Kate on the shoulder.

"Of course," Kate replied.

"And tell her I want The Simpsons season seven DVDs for my birthday," he continued, completely straight-faced.

"Will do," Kate agreed.

"That some kind of TV show?" Gibbs asked.

Jack's jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?"

"Gibbs watches the Farm Report," Kate explained in a low voice.

"What's that?"

"Never mind," Kate muttered, shaking her head.

"The car's here!" Tony called, dropping the phone that no one else had heard ring. The NCIS team looked up from their various conversations.

"Well," Ducky nodded to Daniel and Teal'c, "it's been interesting, gentlemen. I hope we meet again under better circumstances."

"Can I email you?" Abby asked Sam eagerly. Carter shrugged. "Awesome! See ya!"

"Jack," Kate smiled at her not-brother, stepping into the elevator.

"General," Gibbs said solemnly, shaking Jack's hand. "Take care."

"You, too," Jack returned awkwardly.

And then they were gone, as quickly as they had arrived.

"Daniel," Jack called.

"Yeah, Jack?" Daniel turned back, his hand on the door.

"That book you mentioned," Jack started, brow furrowing. "Ilya-something-or-other--"

"The Iliad?"

"That's the one," Jack crowed triumphantly.

"What about it?"

"Wasn't that was written by a guy named Homer?"