A/N: Well...I wasn't planning on posting this chapter for a while, but I thought I'd treat you all to a NICE chapter before the aweful, scary, mean, (you're going to hate me) chapter coming up next.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here, Jack?" Sam asked for the hundredth time since Jack had picked her up for Thanksgiving.
Jack rolled his eyes, "I wouldn't have invited you without checking it first, Sam. It's fine for you to be here – Mom's thrilled about it, really."
Sam looked down as she opened her door, "It's not your mom I'm worried about."
Jack grinned at her, "Don't worry, you have all of my brothers and my sister on your side – it'll be fine."
Jack opened the door to his house as Sam mumbled, "I sure hope your right, Jack."
As soon as Sam stepped into the house her nostrils were filled with the inviting scents of turkey and must have Thanksgiving sides. William O'Neill was reading a book, while the rest of his sons watched the football game on television, when the two entered and Sam was a little shocked at what she found: the man was fit enough to be a Colonel and held himself like a king…but he didn't look like the type of man destined for greatness.
Joel smirked at his younger brother when the couple walked into the room. He could see how utterly terrified Sam was at finally meeting Jack's parents, but he could also see determination in her that the day would go well.
Sam smiled politely at General O'Neill as he said, "Hello, Samantha. We've all heard so much about you."
A light blush crept along Sam's neck, "All good things, I hope, sir."
William O'Neill knew immediately after Sam spoke that he'd like this girl. He could already tell that she was a good influence on his son. "Please, call me William."
"I don't think I can do that, sir."
He really liked her. Most of Jack's other girlfriends would have jumped at the opportunity to be that much less formal. "Mr. O'Neill, then."
"Okay, Mr. O'Neill," Sam said with a slight smile. "And it's Sam. No one's called me Samantha in years."
Mr. O'Neill nodded once as his daughter came bounding out to the living room, "SAM!" Priscilla said at the top of her lungs before giving Sam a bear hug and nearly pushing her over. "I've missed you so much! Do you want to help in the kitchen? Mom's letting me make the pies this year!"
"Yeah, I just hope we don't get food poisoning!" Jack said, receiving a glare from Sam and a Priscilla sticking her tongue out at him. Jack backed down, "Sorry."
Helen grinned at her children from the doorway that led into the kitchen. It surprised her a little that this young woman had such an affect on her son – but from the way he'd been acting the past two months, she knew it was a good affect. She shared a look with her husband and saw that he had reached the same conclusions about Jack's relationship with Sam. "Priscilla, let go of Sam and finish making your pies." The twelve-year-old reluctantly let go of Sam and went back into the kitchen.
Helen smiled at Sam, "I'm Helen, Jack's mom – and if you start calling me Mrs. O'Neill I give you food poisoning that will last for a month."
Sam's wide-eyed expression was enough answer for the male O'Neill's to all burst out in laughter knowing that as great a chef as their mother was she knew exactly how to give someone food poisoning that could last for a month. She'd done that one time when a very mean, cynical, cruel subordinate had embarrassed William. Oh, those were the good old days back when CO's could extract punishment like that on evil insubordinate subordinates.
"Did you need any help in the kitchen, Helen?" Sam said a few minutes later when Jack, his father and brothers had stopped laughing at her.
The woman smiled, pleased that the girl could take a joke, "That would be wonderful, Sam. Micah, I asked you three hours ago to clean up the toys you left in the dining room. Go and clean them up."
Sam walked into the kitchen slightly in awe of how this woman had raised the brood she had, with a husband in the military. Briefly she wondered if her mother's life would have been like that if she hadn't died.
"Then there was the time that Joel and Jack told Adam that you became a ghost by covering yourself in flour," Helen rolled her eyes as Sam grinned, putting the green bean casserole in the oven. "That was the messiest phase they ever went through. The most destructive being when Jack just had to find out how everything worked from the inside out."
Sam snorted as Helen continued, "I had the toaster in one hundred different pieces! We had to take it to one of the engineers on base to get it back together."
Priscilla nodded empathetically, "I'm pretty sure his latest phase only ended when you came to school, Sam."
"What's that one?"
Helen shot a look at her daughter before replying to Sam, "It was nothing, really. He just started hanging out with…people who weren't good for him."
Sam nodded, leaving it at that. This family seemed to have a lot of mysteries, but when she thought about it there were really no more than her own family. Sensing the somber mood that had fallen over the two women, Sam asked Helen if she could borrow some butter and salt.
"Sure, here you go."
Sam put a little bit of the salt on the half used slab of butter. Helen immediately knew what she was up to, but said nothing as she continued. "You know, Priscilla, if you put salt on butter, it heats up."
"Really?" Priscilla said, half believing, but still dubious.
Sam nodded, "Really. Here, feel." Priscilla put her hand over the butter and before she knew it Sam had slammed her hand into the slab causing the fatty substance to get all over the girl's hand.
"Hey! That's not fair!" Priscilla said with a smile as she looked at her hand that was still stuck in the butter. Helen and Sam didn't respond – they were too busy laughing.
A/N: I think I've seen that episode of Seventh Heaven one too many times. I hope you liked it! Oh, and my sister tried the butter thing on me when I was ten and I fell for it. Since then I have thought of something: you buy SALTED butter at the store, it doesn't come hot. Please review for my stupidity!