A/N: Good grief, what I wouldn't give for a week off in the Bahamas with no one for company except my laptop… (And what does it say about my life that my tropical vacation fantasy does not involve either my husband or Richard Dean Anderson?)

I definitely have issues, yes?

Since twin toddlers, grad school, a full-time job, and a hubby who works second shift aren't enough of a challenge for me, I've decided (with all of my spare time) to buy a house. Buying/selling/moving/financing/etc, would be bad enough, but the new house – decorated entirely in circa 1965 décor – needs repainting and new floors. The old house, showing the wear-and-tear of 2-year-old twins, also needs repainting and, if we expect to sell it, a new roof. Since money is always an object, we'll be up to our ears in do-it-yourself projects for at least 2 months. Sigh.

Either I'm very ambitious or I have a death wish. I'll let you know which in June.

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Meatier and less fluffy, as promised. I know it's short, but at least it's something!

Chapter 16

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't toss his ass off my base," Jack snapped angrily as he walked down one of the SGC's main corridors.

Sam, nearly jogging to keep pace with her agitated husband, spoke with a combination of affection and exasperation. "It's not worth the headache," Sam said reasonably. "Let him insult us for a few hours and then kick him out. It makes him feel like he's accomplished something, which means it might be a while before he comes back."

Not looking any happier, Jack muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Then, stopping mid-stride, he exhaled sharply. "Damn."

Sam almost tripped over her own feet as she struggled to keep pace with her husband. "What?"

Jack shook his head. "I just remembered something."

Not particularly comforted by the reluctant note in his voice, Sam repeated herself. "What?"

"Woolsey left me a voice mail last week about some stupid mission SG-10 went on a month ago. He had an idiotic question about… I don't know. Resource allocation? It was something utterly stupid." Jack exhaled sharply, frustration evident in his every movement.

Sam examined him calmly. "And you blew him off." It was a statement, not a question.

He shrugged, not looking particularly remorseful. "I always blow him off, Carter."

Spearing him with a withering gaze, Sam shook her head. "Just another one of your bad habits," she muttered darkly. "Kind of like calling your wife by her maiden name."

At that, Jack grinned widely. "Aw, c'mon, Carter. Admit it, you'd be worried if I ever called you anything else."

Sam sighed. "Probably. But none of this helps us get rid of Woolsey any faster."

Grimacing, Jack set his shoulders and started walking again. "Might as well see what he's got his undies in a bind about this time," he mumbled.

The pair walked swiftly down the corridor and up the steps to the main conference room. Stepping past the MP posted at the door, Jack felt his hackles rise at the sight of the self-righteous attorney sitting stiffly behind the table.

"It's been four months since that woman started making forays off the base," Woolsey was saying sharply. "Every time she sets foot outside of this mountain, she puts the entire world at risk. We have no idea what sort of diseases she might be carrying, not to mention the psychological programming she might have in her subconscious mind. It must stop. Now."

Across the table from Woolsey, Daniel and Teal'c sat with rigid stillness. Daniel, for his part, looked like steam might start pouring from his ears at any moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jack cut him off before he had the chance to utter a sound.

"Glad to see I got here in time for the pleasantries," he said with deceptive mildness. "Next time, Woolsey, I'd appreciate a few hours notice before you just drop in. We do have work to do around here. It's damned inconvenient to run to your beck and call every time you decide you have issues to discuss."

Woolsey didn't look remotely affected by Jack's speech. "Inconvenient, General?" He glared with unabashed dislike in his eyes. "What's inconvenient is placing phone call after phone call to your office and never getting a single response. Perhaps I would give you notice of my visits if I could ever get you on the phone."

Jack, refusing to be baited, just shrugged. "Like I said, Dick, we've got work to do around here. That makes us hard to get in touch with sometimes."

Pursing his lips angrily, Woolsey ignored the insult. "Funny, but whenever I drop in, I see a decided lack of work going on." Turning to Daniel, he directed his next comments at the archaeologist. "Some of us are too busy pretending we're at the senior prom to think about serious government business."

Daniel's face darkened dangerously. Again, he opened his mouth to defend himself but was this time cut off by Sam.

"Daniel is working with our base physician on triggering Sha're's extra-dimensional memories. Memories," she added pointedly, "that might be extremely useful to our defense of this planet."

Woolsey slowly turned his attention to Sam. "Naturally you'd defend him," he stated matter-of-factly. "You've turned this assignment into a girls' slumber party." Picking up a file folder in front of him, he opened it up and read from one of the papers inside. "Quote: 'Colonel O'Neill and Sha're left the base today for the local shopping mall. In addition to lunch and shopping, the Colonel took the off-worlder for a manicure.' End quote." Staring venomously at Sam, he spoke with cold fury. "This is how taxpayer dollars are spent?"

Reddening, Sam returned his glare with one of her own. "If you keep reading your report, you'll see that I paid for the lunch, shopping, and the manicure. Furthermore, I was off-duty when the outing took place." Leaning forward, she bit off her next words distinctly. "You have no jurisdiction over my personal time."

Woolsey looked a bit put-off by her remarks, but didn't let up. "Be that as it may, none of you has been able to address the hazards this woman poses to our planet. She should not be allowed out of her room, much less out of this base!"

Daniel slammed his fist on the table, unwilling to be interrupted this time. "Sha're is a person, not a house plant," he said vehemently. "You can't just shut her in a cell, especially when we have absolutely no idea if we can send her home. She could be here for the rest of her life. She shouldn't have to sped that time as a prisoner!"

Woolsey cocked an eyebrow. "And why not?" he asked heatedly. "She is an alien, Doctor! And she poses a serious risk to the citizens of this planet. I think locking her in a cell is exactly what we should do. Might I remind you that the last time we had contact with this woman, she carried a Goa'uld symbiote in her body and was more than willing to destroy Earth and everything on it?"

Clenching his jaw, Daniel spoke through gritted teeth. "She's not carrying a symbiote now."

Woolsey scoffed. "And that's supposed to make me feel better? Who knows what the Goa'uld did to her? She could be waiting for the perfect moment to unleash absolute chaos on this planet. And all we're doing is helping her!"

Jack raised his hand abruptly. "As much fun as this is, I think we've heard enough." Spearing the lawyer with his best Air Force General look, he spoke evenly. "Do you have an order from the president to discontinue our present course of action concerning Sha're?"

Glowering, Woolsey met Jack's eyes without flinching. "No."

A smile crept onto Jack's face as he slowly wiggled the fingers on his raised hand in an undeniable gesture of 'goodbye.' Enjoying the dark glare that the lawyer directed at him, Jack spoke with exaggerated pleasantness. "So long, Dick. Nice seeing you again." As the angry man pushed his chair away from the conference table, he snatched his folders up with unnecessary force and marched out of the room.

Jack watched Woolsey's stiff form stride past the MPs in the doorway. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out," he called out gleefully. Then, turning back to his companions, he muttered, "Asshole."

Sam, who'd been standing during the entire exchange, slowly sank into one of the conference chairs. "That was unpleasant," she said, sounding tired.

Daniel glared at the doorway. "Oh, I don't know," he growled, "I can think of a few ways of making his next visit here significantly less pleasant."

Jack raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Daniel to get violent. "What, like sending him to Doc Brightman for an enema?"

Daniel looked up with interest. "That's much better than anything I was planning," he said, sounding almost serious.

Sam rolled her eyes. "We can brainstorm lots of torture methods for Mr. Woolsey later on. Right now we need to figure out how to protect Sha're from him." Wincing, she looked at her husband. "Seeing how Jack practically dared him to get a presidential order, we'd better come up with a good defense of our plan."

Daniel stared ahead mulishly. "Our plan is perfectly sound, Sam. He's got nothing."

Reaching over, Sam patted Daniel gently on the hand. "Of course I think our plan is sound," she said reassuringly. "But I also think we need to anticipate his next move."

Across the table, Jack nodded. "I agree. He's gonna come up with something awful. We might as well try to nip it in the bud."

Sam looked thoughtfully into space. "He's going to play up the security risk," she mumbled absently.

Daniel shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time we've let off-worlders out of the base. There's Cassie," he said, ticking off a finger, "and Teal'c, of course." He paused a moment, thinking. "And I'm not sure if Jacob really counts, since he's technically a citizen of Earth, but he's at least part alien," he added, raising two more fingers.

Teal'c smiled faintly. "Somehow, Daniel Jackson, I believe that Mr. Woolsey would gladly lock all three of us in cells for the rest of our lives if given a chance."

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Daniel agreed. "Of that I have no doubt."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes brightened. "That's it! When Woolsey brings this before the president, we need to make him look like an irrational fanatic. If we can get him to say something ridiculous and xenophobic, he'll lose major credibility points with the joint chiefs."

Jack seemed to ponder his wife's statement for a moment. "That just might work," he said slowly. "I'll see if I can call in a few favors and make him look like an idiot. Not that he needs any help," he added with a smirk.

Daniel seemed to relax a bit. "We can't let them lock her in a room," he said quietly.

Sam squeezed his hand. She could clearly see the torment in his eyes and her heart ached for him. Despite their best efforts, Sha're's memories and their own research of the device had slowed to a trickle. It was nearly unbearable. She and Jack had spent the last two months watching the couple with a sense of abject helplessness. Anyone with eyes could see the unresolved emotions between Daniel and his former wife, but there was simply no way to remedy the situation. More answers about the device were needed before Daniel and Sha're could begin making decisions about their future. Thinking that Sha're might end up a prisoner of the SGC for any part of that future was somewhat nauseating to Sam. Meeting Daniel's troubled gaze, she spoke with firm conviction. "Of course we won't let them lock her up. She's my friend, too."

Her words hung in the air for a moment as all four members of SG-1 contemplated the gravity of the situation. Then, quietly, Teal'c cleared his throat.

"O'Neill," he asked curiously, "What is an enema?"