Sorry for the short chapter, folks, but this was just the perfect place to stop. I'll try to make the next one longer. Again, swing by to check out my new Livejournal. Link is on my profile page. If this archive allowed links, I'd put one in here for you.

The next morning when Sam woke up, they were spooning. Jack's arm was around her, and her back was pressed against his front. They fit well together, she noticed contentedly. She also noticed that he was a normal, healthy male with a normal, healthy, um, reaction to morning. Given where her butt was, she could hardly help noticing. Not counting the encounter under the virus, it had been a while since Sam had last been with a man. And she was feeling a bit…. She checked the clock. Yep, it was still early. They had plenty of time.

She arched back against Jack, rubbing slightly, stroking the arm around her middle—it was all she could reach with her hands. After a few minutes of that, she wriggled around in the bed to give her hands more scope to roam. Listening to his breathing, Sam could tell when it started to change. Still, that didn't give her any warning when she suddenly found herself flipped over and pinned—gently—under Jack's weight.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked with a grin.

"If you couldn't figure that out, I must be doing something wrong," Sam said, laughing.

Jack dropped his keys on the table by the door and watched Sam head over to the phone. Church had been okay; he'd have protested if she'd suggested one of those huge mega-things with more scenery, sound equipment, and staging than most community theaters, but other than that, he didn't really care. They were planning on spending the afternoon unpacking stuff and going over the house. Jack was anticipating a long honey-do list if Sam was anything like Sara on the subject. Not that he'd let the place go, since he'd bought it … but he hadn't really been paying all that much attention to it.

First, however, Sam was going to call her Dad. As she listened to it ring, Jack crossed over to the couch and sat down next to her, reaching over to hold the hand that wasn't holding the phone. She squeezed his hand, and smiled at him. He could feel the tension in her body where their legs touched.

"Hi, Dad," she said, in a bright voice at odds with the strain in her body. "It's me, Sam. How are you doing?" She paused, listening, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of his hand. "That's good to hear." Her face got a slightly pained look. "Yes, I'm fine too." She bit her lip. "No, I haven't talked to Mark lately. Can't I just call my Dad on a Sunday afternoon to chat?" She winced. "Yeah, I did get moved to a different team. My assignment now is more purely scientific." Pause. "Yes, I did a lot of science on my other team. I do more now." She looked down, but her voice stayed strong and confident. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Dad." Pause. "You could always come out and visit, you know. I'd love to see you, and I'm sure General Hammond would be thrilled to see an old friend."

It was Jack's turn to tense. Old friend?

"I have some leave coming I could take," Sam continued, "I could show you around—I couldn't show you the base, though." Pause. "Yes, I know you were stationed here twenty-five years ago, but it might have changed, some. And we could talk." Her muscles relaxed a little. "I'm sure General Hammond would love to go golfing with you." Pause. "Okay, let me know when your flight will get in and I'll pick you up. I love you, Dad."

Jack watched her hang up. "So, that was telling Dad, huh?"

Sam winced. "Yeah. I kind of chickened out, there. Well, at least he's coming here, so I can tell him in person. That should be easier than talking over the phone."

"For you," Jack pointed out. "You're not the one he's gonna hit when he finds out."

"He won't hit you," Sam said with a grin. "He won't like it, but it's not like he's going to attack you or anything." She put the phone back on the hook and leaned back.

"You're sure about that?" Jack asked, skeptical. He sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table. Sam poked him, and he put them down on the floor again.

"Uh-huh." Sam nodded firmly, snuggling in.

"Positive?"

"Absolutely."

"One hundred percent?"

"Yes." Sam paused. "I think."

Jack made a face at her. She made one back at him. They sat quietly for a few minutes. Thoughts of gruesome and truly horrible fates Carter, senior could dish out ran through Jack's head. He suppressed a shudder.

"Y'know," Sam said meditatively. "You are a special ops veteran. You travel regularly to other planets and fight aliens who were genetically designed and bred to be great warriors. I used to do that for a living, too."

"Yeah. You even fought a Mongol chieftain single-handed in hand-to-hand combat, and won."

"So, should we be scared of a single, middle-aged pilot whose only recent assignments have been flying desks?"

Jack thought for a second. He looked down at Sam's blonde head, and considered how he'd react if he had a daughter and some guy had gotten her pregnant. Especially if the bozo was her CO.

Sam looked up at him through her bangs. They studied each other for a few seconds, then turned their faces forward again.

"Yep."

"Absolutely."