Major General George Hammond arrived back in his office at the Pentagon after a morning full of typical Monday briefings. The always present and never ending pile of reports and paperwork sat waiting in his inbox. He sat down, ready to reach for the top item, but the courier envelope sitting in the middle of his desk stopped him. It was from Stargate Command, addressed personally to himself from Jack O'Neill, and it was marked 'Urgent'.

George picked up the envelope, twisted open the closure, and pulled out the single page inside. A photo was attached to this page by a paper clip. It took him less than a minute to read the entire memo, and another full minute to look at the included picture. On the back, written in a flowing script he instantly recognized, was written: "Uncle George, Sorry you couldn't be there with us, but I'm sure you'll understand why. Love, Sammie." When he was finished, he simply sat in his chair for another minute, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, "Jack, Jack, Jack."

While the timing surprised him, the actual contents of the memo did not. If anything, he had been wondering, ever since hearing that Samantha Carter had broken off her engagement to Pete Shanahan, and especially since Jacob Carter's funeral, if such a letter were on its way. Few people knew Jack O'Neill well enough to have noticed, but George had seen him hovering around Sam Carter at her father's funeral. Never too close, but always there, quick with a steadying hand on her back or shoulder whenever her tight control faltered. After years watching the two of them deliberately avoid touching, the significance of Jack and Sam's new closeness had not been lost on him.

His friend Jack was a smart man, and eight years was a very long time, and he knew Sam and Jack deserved happiness more than any other two people he knew. Still, it put him in a rather difficult situation. With a sigh, he picked up the red phone on his desk and punched in the all-too familiar number.

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Some time later, Brigadier General Jack O'Neill was sitting at his desk at Stargate Command when the phone rang: the red phone, not the black one. Considering the memorandum he had sent to D.C. that morning, this was not terribly surprising. With a strange mixture of fear and excitement, he picked up the receiver.

"General O'Neill."

"Jack!"

'Yes, Mr. President?"

"I've just spoken with George Hammond…"

Oh, boy, thought Jack, here it comes. "Yes, sir?"

"It seems we need to talk."

"Sir? With all due respect, I think I made my wanting to retire – and my reasons for doing so – very clear."

"See, Jack. The problem is, we – and by we I mean the Planet – still need you."

Jack couldn't help chuckling a little. "Sir, I think the planet can get on just fine without me."

"I'm not so sure, Jack."

Jack took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. "Look, sir. I realize I'm making life harder for a lot of people. It's just –"

The President interrupted him, "I understand, Jack. And no one should have expected you to sacrifice as much as you have for this world. I do wish you'd come to me, first."

"Sir?" Now Jack really was surprised.

"I am the President of the United States, Jack. There are very few things I can't work-out. Especially something as easy and important as making sure the man and woman responsible for saving the planet," there was a slight pause on the other end of the line as the President clearly looked for the necessary information, "eight times, aren't punished simply for having the poor judgment to fall in love with each other. Last time I checked, Jack, that wasn't exactly the sort of thing one can control…"

"No, sir. It's not." The simple words seemed such an understatement after so many years of pain.

"Exactly. So, I'm free Thursday night. Why don't you and Lieutenant Colonel Carter -- I assume she's not changing her professional name? – come join me and my wife for dinner. We can discuss possibilities for the future then. Don't get me wrong, you can still retire, if that's what you two decide is best. But I want you to know there might be other solutions before you make your final decision. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Besides," the President added, laughing now himself, "If any two people deserve the honor of spending the night in the Lincoln Bedroom, it's the two of you."

"Sir?!"

The President ignored his shock. "Good, it's settled then. Have your assistant contact my secretary to make the arrangements. And I'll see you Thursday."

"Yes sir. Goodbye, Mr. President."

"Goodbye. And, Jack?"

"Yes sir?"

"Congratulations."

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