Something about 672 had made Jack's skin itch ever since he had come through the Star Gate. He had hoped at first that the earthquake had been the source of his discomfort, of the soft insistent chime of his warning bells. But when it hadn't lessened even after he'd determined that everyone was all right, he had ordered Prometheus back into space in a planetary orbit that was geosynchronous with the capital city. He had considered ordering all the military personnel back aboard ship and shelved it for the time being. It couldn't hurt to have boots on the ground, especially not with Carter in charge. As a further precaution he ordered everyone to have a locator beacon on them at all times. There had been some grumbles from the scientists but he had held firm.

There had been nothing at the state dinner to trigger any alarms. It had been a reasonably boring evening that had required his dress blues and caused an unmistakable ember of desire to smolder in Sam's eyes all evening. But nothing had shown up that was large, menacing, or formidable with weapons and armor and teeth.

Much later in the evening when Jack had been certain that everyone else in their palatial accommodations was asleep he had gone out onto his balcony, protected by the clouded night and the fact that they were on the 28th floor. There was nothing but a stone wall about eight inches thick between his balcony and Sam's. He had climbed around it easily, simple matter of moving from railing to railing and hugging the wall, still wearing his dress blues to take advantage of the dark color. He needed to see her privately, to tell her about his nagging feelings of impending doom – confident that she wouldn't question him.

He knocked softly on the glass door and she greeted him wearing a light blue camisole and panties and her Beretta. It was probably one of the most erotic things he had ever seen her in, sidearm included in the image. She had been equally exasperated, infuriated and delighted to see him.

"Are you out of your mind?" She had demanded, setting the gun on a side table and seizing the front of his jacket. There had been something shockingly arousing about the contact of his wool uniform and all its stiff stars and bars coming into contact with her mostly bare skin and silky lingerie. For a moment he had done nothing but let her feel the powerful effect of Brigadier General Jack O'Neill in full uniform backing her into a wall and holding her there. She responded by slipping her arms around his neck and demanding a passionate kiss.

When they had come up for air she had gasped, "What if you had fallen?"

"That would have been bad," he admitted, kissing her again.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Did you consider just knocking on the front door, you know the one out in the common room?"

"I didn't want anyone to know how long I'm going to be in here."

The truth was that he had done much more dangerous things and for reasons that had been much less important to him than the chance to spend a few uninterrupted hours with her.

They had not spoken again for a long time after that, being too occupied with other more physical things.

Jack dozed a little bit afterwards, feeling relaxed for the first time since walking through the Star Gate two days earlier. Perhaps not relaxed but exhausted enough to rest soundly if even for a short while. He woke up later with Sam still in his arms and his face buried in her tousled hair. Being with her, belonging with her, was like a dream come true and he was afraid to get used to it.

But he wanted to wake up with Sam every morning for the rest of his life, if only that could be possible.

She stirred when he did, rolled over in his arms and blinked up at him a few times as her eyes focused in the dark.

"Can I ask you something?" she murmured, snuggling closer until her cheek rested on his chest.

"What?"

"You knew, didn't you? About the earthquake. You knew something was going to happen. I could tell by the way you were pacing around and looking for exits."

"I was not pacing."

"Yes, you were."

He hesitated and then spoke into the dark. "I've felt like something was going to happen since I got here. I still do."

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes. I'm not kidding when I say I want everyone on alert."

"So it wasn't the earthquake?"

"Not just the earthquake, no."

He started kissing the outline of her face and then along her cheekbones and forehead, all the exquisite bone structure that supported her beauty. Sam stayed still while he did it. She loved Jack and she had come to appreciate the instinct and battle-honed reflexes that functioned below his conscious level.

As a scientist Sam wasn't actually good at trusting her instincts. Over the years working side by side she had learned to trust Jack's, as he had learned to trust her skill and knowledge.

"So, what is it then?"

"I don't know," he had admitted. "But I'm going to find out."

He had waited until she had fallen back to sleep and then slipped with silent stealth out of the bed. She had stirred but settled down quickly when he kissed her forehead and told her to go back to sleep.

The whir and light of the Asgard beam taking him to the Prometheus woke her again, but he never knew.

He had taken a shower and gotten another hour's sleep before closeting himself in Pendergast's office the next morning. This time he didn't just read the cliff notes version of Alexander North's report on 672. He read every word looking for clues.

He thought he'd found it on page 43 and had Alexander beamed to the Prometheus and brought to the office.

Without preliminary and almost before Alexander had finished sitting down Jack said, "Tell me about this group, these aww-maw-koo…."

"Aumakua aina. The Guardians of the Land," Alexander interrupted. "It's a small but very vocal group dedicated to the idea that Mau Loa should stay isolated. They think the Star Gate is now a very bad and very dangerous thing and don't want the treaty with Earth. They call us haoli and it isn't a compliment."

"How organized are they?"

"I couldn't tell you," Alexander sighed, "The government here isn't very forth coming about their activities."

"Why not?" Jack demanded.

"Why would they?" Alexander countered, "Are we going to suddenly tell all our allies about terrorist activities on Earth and how we know what they're doing?"

Jack only heard one word in the sentence. "Terrorists?"

"That's probably over stating. But they have filed formal protests about the treaty. Security is heightened. I don't expect them to be a factor."

Jack had thanked Alexander for his time and then had Sam summoned from the surface. He told her about the group and then they went on a readiness tour of the ship.

It was somehow fitting that they were together when the attack began. Jack and Sam were deep in the labyrinth that was Prometheus so they didn't see the orange-gold blasts of weaponry ripping the blackness of space. But they felt the impact against the ship's shields. The attack alert warning sounded urgently. A small group of fighters had broken off from one of the Mau Lo'an ships and swarmed the Prometheus with weapons blazing. There was a report of another group of fighters heading for the capital city. It was also somehow fitting that they were closest to the 302 bay. Jack stopped long enough to shout orders to Pendergast over the comm system to get the Prometheus on top of the capital city now.

"I want everyone with a locator beacon on this ship in the next sixty seconds, Colonel. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Jack and Sam burst into the command station of the fighter bay and found Major Rogers deploying the 302s.

Jack nodded towards the 302s on the other side of the reinforced safety glass.

"You got another couple of those?" he asked.

"I have one ready to go, sir. The pilot is out with a broken arm."

"We'll take it."

"Sir?" Sam asked. Things were moving a little too fast.

"You got a better idea of how we can be the most useful? Pendergast can command the ship. You got a better plan say it now."

"Fresh out of ideas sir," she answered. Truthfully staying on board Prometheus was not something she wanted to do; not if there was action she could take.

He turned back to Rogers. "Who's out there already?"

"Alpha and Gamma Flights, sir. Colonel Pickering and Colonel Ross respectively."

"Got it."

Sam's eyes flared open in anticipation as they raced towards the hangar deck.

"Flight suits?" she asked.

"No time. Grab a helmet. You want shotgun or the stick?"

"Shotgun."

Jack snorted. "Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked as she scrambled up the ladder into the 302.

"I'm the better pilot. You're the better shot."

"Actually I thought I was better at both," Sam slid into the rear seat and strapped in. "You know we've never done this before," she added.

"Flown together? Yes we have."

"In a 302? Into combat?"

"First time for everything. You ready?"

"Preflight?"

"No time."

Jack decided later that he would have liked to have seen Sam's face when he blasted into open space when the bay doors were barely wide enough to get through. Her soft gasp and muffled curse were carried into his helmet by the comms.

"Hang on, R2," Jack said.

Sam muttered again and then said, clearly, "Sir! If that becomes my new call sign so help me…."

She cut off as another voice joined their conversation, "Welcome to the party, General. Relinquishing command."

"Negative!" Jack said, "Negative Colonel. We'll fly solo. You two keep your squads and do it like you practiced it."

"Yes, sir."

"Understood, sir."

All around them the 302s were running down incoming fighters and the black of space was lit up with weapons fire. The Prometheus was executing a graceful and purposeful turn to obey Jack's order to defend the city and recall their people.

Trusting his flight instincts above his tactical computer, Jack turned it off.

"You ready?" He asked Sam.

"Let's do this," she answered, grimly.

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