A/N: So sorry for the wait. I meant to upload this on Friday before sunset, but the damn site wouldn't let me. I had to give up and eat dinner (by the time it was over with and the dishes done, it was sunset). And I didn't update earlier today or last night because, as some of you will know and I will enlighten the rest of you on, today was Pentacost, or the Feast of Weeks/Feast of the Firstfruits. Anywho, it's a holy day and I spent the day at church, followed by ice cream for dinner. That's right: ice cream.

Two weeks later, when Sam was finally allowed to leave the hospital (under strict instructions from Dr. Freeman to Jacob to make her take it easy) the police had nearly finished the case. It had been discovered that Carrie was a member of one of the more ruthless, elite gangs within a hundred mile radius.

It made Sam feel sick to think that she'd been the target for a gang murder. She still couldn't remember a lot of what had happened after she'd left the O'Neill house with Jack, but apparently Carrie had been waiting for her.

Since she'd been released on a Saturday, Jacob decided that the newly reunited family would spend some time together the next day. Her apartment had been stripped of all of her things and she was now staying with Jacob and Belle in a house on base. General O'Neill had said it was the least he could do after what had happened.

Mark and Dee were preparing dinner while Sam cuddled up to Belle and Jacob, needing the feel of their touch against her. Her mind wandered, and as she kept on thinking about her life, she knew there was one thing that needed taken care of that very night.

When Dee came into the living room to announce that the food would be ready soon, Sam looked at Belle and asked, "Do you know who they are?"

Belle shrugged, "Grandpa said it was Uncle Mark and Auntie Dee."

Sam shook her head softly, "No, Belle. That's your mommy and daddy."

The little girl's eyes went wide as Sam felt Jacob stiffen beside her. She was ready for him to blow a hatchet when Mark walked into the room to say dinner was ready and Belle raced into his arms and hugged him tight. Sam sat up, watching the interaction with intensity and as much attention as one who was watching the fate of the world unfold would use.

Unfortunately for Sam's viewing of the events, watching Belle cling to Mark like that was unbearable for her stressed emotions (it didn't help she was still on pretty heavy pain killers for her chest) and she had to barricade herself into her new room before her father or brother (or worse, Belle) saw her cry her heart out.

It was a while before anyone dared to venture into Sam's room to ask if she was hungry, but the question evaded Mark as he walked in and found his little sister hugging a pillow and sweatshirt like a life preserver. She felt the bed bend under his weight as Mark sat down next to her, but Sam refused to acknowledge his presence.

He pulled her close to him in a brotherly embrace, wanting to dry her tears. It hurt him when she cried, really it did. Mark knew he wasn't the best brother in the world, his track record with what he did to Sam with Belle was enough evidence of that. He hadn't thought of how Annabelle would affect Sam's life…only how she affected his.

"I'm sorry, Sammie," Mark whispered as she cried into his shoulder. "So sorry."

She shook her head, "You were too young. I understand that now."

Mark stroked her hair, "I may have been too young to take care of her, Sam, but that didn't give me a right to make you take care of her. I really screwed up with Belle, didn't I, sis?"

Sam sniffled, pulling away, "She's a great kid, Mark."

"Yeah, but you and Dad taught her how to be – I didn't."

"Are you going to take her with you when you go?" Sam was half afraid for either answer he would give. Yes or no, it would hurt either way.

What she didn't expect was the answer he gave: "Who said anything about leaving?"

Jack watched the rainfall outside from his perch near the dining room window, listening to the methodic pitter-patter of raindrops, and the strangely soothing sound of his mother chopping up vegetables for the stew she was making. Why did he feel like crap? Was it possible that…no, he had strong feelings for Sam, but it wasn't love. Was it?

"Mom?" Jack asked, not looking away from the rain outside. Joel had taken their younger brothers and sister out to eat to give Jack a chance to spend some quality time with their parents. William was still at work, so it was just Jack and Helen.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"How did you meet Dad?"

Helen's knife paused before she actually answered her son with the story he knew so well, "I was waitressing at a bar near the Air Force Academy and one night he came in with a group of his buddies. I was assigned their table and it was love at first sight. I knew the moment I saw him that I was going to marry him."

"How old were you?"

"I was twenty-one, and he was twenty-eight," Helen recited the stats off from memory, knowing full well what prompted this conversation and what her son was getting at.

She wiped off her knife and put the vegetables into the stew to cook before walking over to pull Jack into a half hug. "Samantha's a wonderful girl, Jack."

Jack nodded, barely containing the tears that wanted to escape. "She really is, Mom. But there's just one problem with her being a 'wonderful girl': I don't get the wonderful girls. I get the crazy girls who are two steps away from being homicidal maniacs."

"Is that what you think?" Helen said, pulling back. "Jack, don't kid yourself. I've seen the way Sam looks at you, and the way you look at her. If any couple was meant to be together it's the two of you. Come on, I have something for you."

Helen led her son into her bedroom and over to her jewelry box. She opened up the carved redwood box and pulled out one of the few rings she had hidden inside. It was an antique ring with five small, princess-cut diamonds set in white gold. Helen handed it to Jack, who took it hesitantly.

"That's Grandma's ring," he said, enthralled with the way the diamonds caught the light.

His mother smiled at his astuteness, "Yes, it is, Jack. I want you to have it. Give it to someone special, Jack."

"What's that supposed to mean, Mom?" Jack asked, wondering what she was getting at by giving the ring to him.

She smirked at her son, winking at him she said, "Jack, all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. Sam makes you happy."

Jack's eyes grew wide when he realized what his mother was telling him. "Thank you, Mom," he whispered, afraid that he'd cry if he spoke any louder.

A/N: A little bit of fluff for all of you reading this for the S/J interaction - which there will be more soon, I promise! Please, review. Ask me about the ice cream thing.