"Be practical as well as generous in your ideals. Keep your eyes on the stars, but remember to keep your feet on the ground." - Theodore Roosevelt

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SAM woke up when the smell of something good wafted over to him. His nose was more awake than the rest of him, and he drifted aimlessly to the kitchen where he saw Jack was working over the stove.

"Mornin' sleepyhead."

"Morn'," SAM grunted. He walked to the counter where fresh coffee was waiting, already brewed. He sighed in delight. His Dad didn't drink coffee, so he always had to make it himself, having it ready by the time he woke up was a heaven sent.

"Want an omelet?" Jack asked, apparently that was what smelled so good. He inhaled the smoke and nodded in thanks. "Here, get a plate and sit at the table."

SAM, starting to come out of his sleepwalk, opened the cupboard and brought out several plates and plopped down in the kitchen chair. Jack brought over the frying pan and slid the omelet onto the plate. He watched in good humor as SAM put the mug down and dug in.

"'S good," he said with his mouth full, and Jack laughed. He could so see Mac in this kid.

"Thanks, I make the best omelet you've ever had." And he proceeded to make another one for himself since he gave his to SAM.

SAM swallowed the bite he was chewing and asked,

"Where's Dad? Is he up yet?"

"Naw, he's still asleep. He always was the late sleeper; he should be up soon though. The food never fails," and he pretended to fan the smoke towards the hall as if to make it go faster, and SAM chuckled at his antics. He felt at home here, with these two. They were so similar, yet so different.

"So….Jack, what was it, last night, you were saying Dad did, when he was seven?" Jack sniggered in both remembrance and his nephew's dogged persistence before answering,

"Well, that was a fun one, he-"

"JONATHON!!!" They could hear Mac's shout from down the hall and SAM burst out laughing, while Jack scowled. What was it with him? Every single time he tried to tell that story, Mac showed up. It was as if there was an internal embarrassment-alarm, or something. It wasn't fair, he decided. Oh well, there was plenty of time, he just had to pick his moment.

Mac came in, scratching his head, worsening his already pretty bad bed head, he scowled at Jack who once again adopted a look of complete innocence. He turned to SAM who was trying to smother his laughter and scowled at him too, "It's a conspiracy!" he cried, not helping SAM one bit. He looked at what his son was eating and walked over to where Jack was cooking, putting his arm around his shoulder he said, "I think I'll have one of those as well," then more quietly so only Jack could hear, "You okay?"
"Yeah,"

"Last night was a bad one"

"I know. I'm fine,"

"Okay bro,"

"Go grab a plate and you'll get your omelet," Jack said loudly, effectively ending the conversation.

"Okay, Bud," Jack grinned at that, Harry, their grandfather used to call them both Bud. Jack used to secretly think that it was because he couldn't tell the difference between them, but he always knew who was who when he scolded them for their pranks.

"So Uncle Jack, you staying for Christmas?" Jack smiled at SAM's emphasis on "uncle" but frowned when he mentioned Christmas.

"Christmas?" He had completely forgotten. The month had been so busy, being off world where it was hot, and being stuck underground in the mountain or in the infirmary where the climate was controlled, he had completely missed the fact that it was December, and therefore Christmas.

"Yeah, you know, where friends and family charge the stores last minute to find the perfect gift that someone just goes and returns a week later anyway. Crazy lights, trees, something religious in there somewhere, commercialism, Christmas." Jack glowered at his nephew; of course he knew what Christmas was! He had missed all the decorations on the houses on his way home because of his exhaustion. No wonder the airport was so busy!

"I didn't realize that it was Christmas already. Wasn't it Christmas just last year?"

"Got any plans Jack?" His brother asked.

"Obviously not,"

"Great, you can spend it with Dad and I!" SAM exclaimed happily.

"Why not, just have to clear it with my CO." Though, he had no doubt Hammond would let him have the time off, he just had to make sure. The Goa'uld don't suddenly decide to take a breather just because it was Christmas, unfortunately.

He finished making breakfast and after they were all full, they decided to teach SAM how to ice fish. It had snowed during the night, the weatherman/pilot was right, and there was more snow on the ground. The two brothers were also almost certain that the ice was thick enough now on the lake.

They had explained to him the dangers of the sport and how to avoid them. Since he was the smallest one of them all, they elected SAM to be the one to go out of the ice first to check its thickness. "Better to err on the side of caution," they had said.

So SAM found himself sliding on his belly, to spread out his weight, across the ice with a spade, hammer and a ruler. Back on the bank, MacGyver took out a nice multi-lens camera from a separate bag and snapped off a few quick ones as his son made his way across the ice.

"Where'd you get that?" Jack asked.

"It's SAM's,"

"It's nice,"

"He's a photojournalist, he always has this thing around. He lives for it."

Once he reached the spot that they had all picked, SAM began to pick away at the ice until he reached the water. He stuck the ruler in and measured the thickness: 4.3 inches, perfect. His dad and uncle had told him that the ice needed to be at least 4 inches to be able to support the weight of humans. He worked on widening the hole as he waved the two older men over. They carried the poles and chairs picked their footing carefully. It could be both dangerous and embarrassing to slip and land flat on their butt. Besides, they had to be careful to take the same path that SAM had taken, the ice could be thick in some parts, but thin in others where it had separated recently and ice had just begun to form over the hole.

Once everything was set up, they sat back and enjoyed the solitude and quiet. SAM pulled out a tackle box and rigged his line with a bright lure. Mac and Jack watched, and looked at each other, sharing a knowing look. Mac looked down and pulled something from his pocket, as Jack stole the hidden camera bag and hid it surreptitiously.

"SAM, want some gum?"

"Uh, no thanks dad, I'm busy with this lure, maybe later."

"Ok," he popped the gum into his mouth and started to fold the wrapper, "here, try this."

SAM looked up and saw his dad offering him origami from the wrapper.

"A gum wrapper? Really?"

"Hey, it works," SAM shrugged and took the proffered item and put away the bright lure as he attached the makeshift one in its place. He dropped his line in the water as Mac handed Jack a stick of gum and took one out for himself. They were in the process of folding when SAM got all excited. They looked up and saw the line was moving.

"Wow, that was quick!"

"Go ahead and pull it in," Mac encouraged. SAM stood up and reeled in the fish, pulling it through the hole with one quick jerk. Jack took the picture quickly. Both his brother and nephew wore huge grins. He told them to stand together so he could take the cliché picture of father and son's first fish. Though he usually hated clichés, he didn't mind this one. SAM held the fish in front of him while Mac threw an arm around his son, obviously very proud. It was a beautiful rainbow trout, about 10 inches long. After the picture was taken, SAM asked,

"Where'd you learn that?"

"Harry taught it to us when we were really young," Jack answered while slinging the bag around his shoulder after replacing the camera in it.

"He taught us a lot," Mac said a bit wistfully, sad that he was no longer around to meet his great grandson. But he shook off the attitude for a happier one, "And we're gonna teach you everything he taught us…Now, let's take a good look at that fish!"

Jack also had a moment of sadness because he had missed Harry's funeral. He hadn't even known that he had passed until Mac mentioned it years later. He stood up to go over to look at SAM's fish as well when all of a sudden a familiar feeling came over. It was the absolute worst timing! He was engulfed in a bright light and before he knew was somewhere else entirely.

SAM had been facing Jack while his dad had his back turned to him. He had seen the bright light and when it faded, Jack was missing. He backed away quickly, terrified of what he had just seen, "WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!"

Mac turned to see what had SAM so spooked and saw that Jack was nowhere to be seen, he immediately looked down at the ice, but saw that there were no fissures or ominous holes. 'What the?' Mac turned back to his son and noticed that he was still backing away, subconsciously.

"SAM, SAM, get back here! SAM, don't go any further!" They hadn't scouted the ice where he was; it was dangerous to wander out there.

SAM's brain obviously didn't hear him or register what he was doing; he was in shock and watching his uncle disappear right before his eyes. He kept moving backwards until he heard a deep crack, which effectively made him stop. His eyes went wide and found his Dad's who felt a sudden fear race through him at the sound. All Mac could think as he saw his son fall through the ice was, 'No, No, NO!'