A/N: Please don't hate me. I know I said the rest of this was ready to roll out within a few weeks of my last chapter. And, truly, it was. But, as per Murphy's Law, life just got in the way.

I am pleased, however, to announce something very important to me – and to any of you who want to see me write more fanfiction in the near future…

I AM OFFICIALLY FINISHED WITH MY MASTER'S DEGREE!

Finished! In the bag! SOMEONE STICK A FORK IN ME, I'M DONE!

WOO-HOO!

And if I ever start talking about a Ph.D., you all have permission to virtually btch-slap me until I come to my senses.

As for this story, I really, really promise, I'm going to finish it right away. Really! No more excuses! The new house is unpacked, the old one is on the market, my master's is wrapped up, and my twins start half-day preschool in a week.

And in less than seven days, General Jack O'Neill returns to my living room in all his gorgeous, sarcastic glory.

How much cooler could this be?

Oh, and, it's my birthday! So, happy birthday, me!

Again, sorry for the delay, and immense thanks for your patience.

Chapter 18

Stretched out on the king-sized bed he shared with Sam, Jack drowsily listened to the slow, steady rhythm of his wife's breathing. The first blush of morning sunlight was beginning to trickle between the slats covering their bedroom window. On any other day, he'd probably be getting out of bed to diaper and feed a baby or two. Today, however, his two tiny tyrants were undoubtedly bullying their Grandpa Jacob into getting their breakfast.

Smiling at that particular image, Jack lazily enjoyed the complete peace of this moment. Little in his life had ever been peaceful, particularly since Charlie's death. A combination of emotional upheavals and the constant threat of apocalyptic disaster had made the past decade one giant rollercoaster. A quiet moment like this was, by comparison, a small piece of heaven.

Feeling Sam's body tucked snugly up against his, Jack once again marveled at the turn his life had taken. Not terribly long ago, he'd adored the amazing woman beside him from afar – though, admittedly not too far. Working with her so closely had been exquisite torture. She'd continually astonished him with her sheer brilliance, but it had been her courage and strength of character which had finally cracked the impenetrable fortress he'd built around his heart. At the time, he'd found the situation bitterly ironic. Fate had managed to find the only woman in the entire universe capable of melting his defenses and had then ensured he could never actually have her.

The soft flutter of her warm breath tickled his chest, making him smile. In retrospect, he found it impossible to remain bitter about those early years. Somehow, he knew that the monumental strain of repressing those feelings for so long had only made their eventual happy ending that much sweeter. One tended to value something that one had worked so incredibly hard for. Heaven knew he'd never take his wife and family for granted. He knew all too well that life was fleeting – particularly in their line of work – and he was determined to value every precious second of this dream he'd somehow come to live in.

Pushing those dark thoughts away, Jack shifted slightly and drew Sam even closer to him, nuzzling her neck with a series of soft kisses. Within seconds, he was rewarded with a warm, sensual sound from his drowsy wife. Pulling away slightly, he gazed at her soft, delicate features and waited for his favorite moment of the day.

Brighter than the morning sunshine, Sam's intensely blue eyes fluttered open and fixed upon her husband's familiar features. Roughened by a five o'clock shadow, his face was a study in planes and angles. She didn't think she'd ever tire of waking to his warm, intense gaze. Suppressing a lazy yawn, Sam smiled contentedly. "How do you do that?" she asked on a sigh.

Jack studied her intently, reaching up to brush a stray blond lock from her forehead. "How do I do what?"

"Wake me up so pleasantly?" She placed a gentle kiss on his sculpted lips. "My alarm clock usually just gets hurled across the room. Somehow, though, I never have that urge when you do the honors."

He grinned. "No offense, Carter, but I doubt you'd be able to toss me across the room, even if you tried."

Spearing him with a dark look, she exhaled impatiently. "Keep calling me Carter and you might find out if you're wrong about that."

Jack just laughed. "Admit it. You don't really mind it when I call you 'Carter.'" Seeing her doubtful expression, he continued. "Tell me it doesn't remind you of all those repressed… you know… feelings we had for all those years."

Sam stifled a snort. "And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

He looked into her blue eyes with a warm smile. "Yeah. Because it reminds you how far we've come."

Abruptly, Sam felt a lump of emotion fill her throat. Her husband didn't get sentimental very often, but when he did, he certainly made it memorable. She smiled back at him, somewhat tearfully, and gently kissed him again. "Well, when you put it that way…"

He chuckled. "Besides which, I've been calling you Carter for so long now, I'm sure it would take me another seven or eight years to change the habit."

Sam rolled her eyes. "How hard can it be to remember? After all, 'O'Neill' is your name!"

Jack just shrugged. "Yeah. But it suits me better than it suits you."

She shook her head. "I'm sure I don't want to know what you mean by that."

He didn't disappoint her. "It's just… a manly name."

Sam ran a hand down her face in exasperation. "Great. My husband thinks I have a manly last name."

The boyish grin never left Jack's features. "Another good reason to keep calling you Carter."

"I liked your first reason better," she said, returning his teasing smile with one of her own.

Jack suddenly made a point of examining his wife and her surroundings from head to toe. "Seems to me," he said impishly, "we're doing far too much talking, given our present surroundings."

Sam laughed out loud. "Well we can't have that, can we?"

Just as Jack's lips descended toward his wife's eagerly awaiting mouth, the jarring sound of the telephone interrupted their intimate reverie. Instantly, both seasoned SGC veterans froze.

Looking her husband in the eye, Sam sighed. "We should get that."

Jack nodded regretfully. "Yeah. I know." Rolling onto his back, he flung an arm toward the nightstand. "One of these days, we're really going to get a vacation."

Sam chuckled. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

With one, last, longing look at his adorably disheveled wife, Jack picked up the phone. "O'Neill" he barked impatiently.

Sam watched with a growing sense of unease as her husband's face clouded over. After a few moments, he exhaled sharply. "Yeah, we'll be right in. Call me on my cell if anything changes." Hanging up the phone, Jack pushed himself into a sitting position and turned his attention to Sam. His next words caused a wave of dread to roll over her, knotting her stomach instantly.

"It's Sha're," he said grimy. "She's unconscious."

Daniel stalked the length of the infirmary, nervously ruffling his short, sandy brown hair. Silently cursing himself for ignoring his gut instincts, he avoided looking at the still, pale figure on the cot in the center of the room. The quiet tones of medical devices steadily filled the otherwise silent space, both reassuring Daniel with their constant presence, and disturbing him with their complete lack of change.

When the door to the room quietly opened, Daniel abruptly spun to face the entrance. He relaxed slightly when he saw Sam's worried face timidly poking through the doorway. "Can we come in?" she asked softly.

Daniel nodded, sagging slightly with exhaustion. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed moral support. "Please," he murmured gratefully. "I'm glad you came. She's been unconscious for four about hours."

Stepping quietly into the room, Sam and Jack both paused in surprise. Looking quickly at his wife, Jack turned to Daniel with an apologetic look. "We'd have been here sooner if we'd known. Walter only called us less than an hour ago."

Daniel smiled faintly. "I know," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I told him to wait until a decent hour before calling you. You guys deserved a night off. Besides," he shrugged, "there's not much you can do here."

Sam's eyes shone with regret. "Daniel, you should have called sooner. We might not be able to do anything for Sha're, but we could have been here for you." She quickly covered the length of the room and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

Jack nodded in agreement. Looking at the unmoving figure on the bed, he exhaled slowly. "What happened?"

With the arrival of his teammates, Daniel suddenly felt the weight of his emotions bearing down on him. He almost felt as though he no longer needed to be a pillar of strength. He knew his friends would carry any burdens he couldn't. In three staggering steps, he crossed to a dented plastic chair and sank into it heavily. "We had dinner last night," he recalled, staring into space. "I could tell something wasn't quite right, but she didn't want to talk about it. When I walked her back to her quarters, she suddenly got confused." He rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. "She was speaking in her native tongue, and didn't seem to know where she was. That seemed to last for a minute or two, when she just…" he shrugged, "snapped out of it. She said she had a headache, but wouldn't let me call Dr. Brightman. She said she just needed to rest." Pulling himself back to the present, Daniel looked at his friends. "I was worried, but decided to let it go." He shook his head miserably. "I wanted her to trust me."

Sam found another chair and pulled it beside Daniel's. "She does trust you." Gently, she reached over and took his hand in hers.

Daniel grimaced. "I should have insisted on bringing her here immediately. By the time I decided to check on her, she could have been unconscious for hours."

Jack sent his friend a look of solemn understanding. "Maybe," he acknowledged quietly. "But even if you had brought her here right away, there's no guarantee Doc Brightman could have done anything to help her."

Daniel shrugged despondently. "I guess we'll never know."

Sam squeezed his cool hand and speared him with a determined look. "Whatever is wrong, we'll figure it out. Since all her other tests have come back normal, we'll have to assume this has something to do with the stone ring device that brought her here." Suddenly, Sam darted a look at her husband. "I don't suppose you have any flashes of psychic insight you'd like to offer?"

Jack opened his mouth to fire back a retort, when he swiftly shut it again, a look of surprise on his face. "Actually," he said, sounding incredulous, "I think I do."

Daniel and Sam exchanged startled looks. "Well, go ahead," Sam said with an uncertain glance at her husband.

Wrinkling his brow in concentration, Jack took a slow breath. "I'm guessing it's something like that… ecto… ergo…" He tapped his fingertips on his forehead. "Endo… Oh, for cryin' out loud." He looked imploringly at Sam. "Help me out here."

She just stared at him blankly. "Sorry, sweetheart. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jack waved a hand impatiently. "Come on, you remember. That weird shaking thing that happened when the other you came here from another dimension."

Suddenly, understanding dawned on Sam's face. "Oh! Entropic cascade failure." Then, just as quickly, a dark look passed over her features. Remembering the intimate embrace between her husband and her alternate self still didn't sit well, even years later. At the time, it had been a double jolt of unpleasant reality. First of all, she'd been forced to acknowledge the deep, undeniable feelings she'd been having for her CO. It had been impossible to reject that reality when faced with the painful jolt of stabbing jealousy she'd felt as she'd watched him embrace another woman. But, secondly, she'd also realized that, under a different set of circumstances, she and Jack might have been soul mates. The attraction he'd shown for someone who was essentially her was undeniable. As was the deep, abiding love her alternate self had clearly expressed for Jack. It had been the first time she'd truly realized what her career had stolen from her.

Swallowing those dark emotions, Sam cleared her throat. "But, Jack, entropic cascade failure won't happen to Sha're. There's only one of her in this reality."

Jack watched the play of emotions on his wife's face and instantly regretted having to bring up his encounter with her alternate self. Though they'd never really spoken of it, he knew it made her uncomfortable. Emotional sensitivity really wasn't his forte. "I know," he said, trying to stick with the change of subject. "But I feel like this has something to do with her ability to recall both sets of memories."

Daniel blinked. "But we still don't know how she does that. We're assuming it has something to do with the cylinder we found in the stone ring, but we still haven't a clue how it works."

Sam looked intently at her husband. "Maybe that's because we haven't been using the correct tools to study it."

Jack regarded her with a puzzled expression. "I don't know, Sam. You and Daniel have done just about everything but take a crowbar to that contraption. I'm not sure what else you could do."

She just smiled. "You just said it yourself. Me and Daniel have tried everything we could think of to research the device." Turning to the archaeologist, she could see he understood what she was getting at.

Jack, on the other hand, was still clueless. "Well, who else do you want looking at it? Say the word, and I'll have them flown in today."

Sam chuckled. "No flight necessary, Jack. Our expert is already here." Looking at Daniel, she saw a glint of hope in his eyes, and felt a similar flash in her own heart. Turning back to her husband, she stifled a smile at the familiar, would-someone-please-tell-me-what-the-hell is-going-on look on his rugged features. "I just realized that there's someone here who apparently knows more about this device than all of us put together. In fact, I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner."

Jack made a noise of sheer exasperation. "Okay. Mind telling me who this genius is?"

Daniel glanced at Sam before replying, feeling better than he had in hours.

"You, Jack."