July 2012

When Jack gets home a little after 1700 hours, hot and sweaty from one of his far too infrequent runs, he's pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a gear bag stowed just inside the door and the muted spray of water pounding from the showerhead in the bathroom.

Sam's early return has thrown off his schedule a little, but he doesn't mind. Provided she's made it home in one piece – and knowing her luck, it's entirely possible that she hasn't – she just might be willing and able to spare him from attending another one of the president's fancy pants dinners solo.

Jack can't keep the grin off his face as he toes off his running shoes. He pads into the kitchen in his damp, smelly socks and grabs a beer from the fridge. Because Sam is home a few days early, he hasn't had time to clean up the way he usually does but he tries to make up for it by thoughtfully disposing of his beer cap in the garbage can. He's two sips in when the shower shuts off. He gives her the space of two more sips before heading for the bathroom.

"Welcome home!" he calls through the closed door.

"Sorry to surprise you like this. I wasn't expecting…"

"As long as you're back because the mission wrapped early and not because you're sick, hurt or otherwise out of commission for the foreseeable future, this is exactly the sort of surprise I like."

A moment later, the door opens. Still dripping, Sam greets him with a big smile and an enthusiastic hug. He's happy to return it. The well-worn fabric of her sweatshirt is damp beneath his hands, suggesting that in her excitement, she'd thrown on clothes prior to drying off properly, but Jack couldn't care less about that.

No bumps or bruises or blood. No stitches or slings or splints. No cuts or casts or crutches. He lets out the sigh of relief he's been waiting five months, three weeks and four days to breathe.

"The president ordered us home early and with the upgrades to the Hammond's hyperdrive, we managed to shave an extra day off the return trip," she explains into his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm just happy to see you in one piece." He says it lightly, but they both know he worries about her when she's away. Some things never change, no matter how much others might. "Since you're here, how do you feel about…"

"The president's dinner?" She steps back, then reaches back into the bathroom for a towel. As she sets to work drying her hair – which is a good three inches longer than it was the last time he saw her – she pins him with a knowing look. "I know all about it, Jack, and it had better not be the reason you're so happy to see me."

"It's not the only reason," he says defensively. "It's definitely in the top five though."

She grins as she squeezes by him and makes a beeline for her bedroom. "Hit the shower. We need to be out the door in 45 minutes."

"Right. Because it's really me that's going to hold things up."

He's missed watching that blonde eyebrow arc accusingly. "Last time we had to go to one of these things, you waited until the last minute to decide you needed to shower and shave, press your uniform and polish your shoes."

"That was strategy."

"The strategy being that if it got late enough, we wouldn't have to go anymore?"

He smirks and rocks back on his heels. "Exactly!"

She rolls her eyes and disappears into her room, closing the door behind her.

"You know you missed me!" he calls through the door.

"Goodness only knows why!"

As Jack strips off his sweat soaked t-shirt, the first strains of a classic rock song can be heard from her bedroom. The familiar sounds of Sam getting ready for a night of hobnobbing with the Washington bigwigs brings a smile to his face.

It's good to have her home.

Twenty minutes after arriving, Sam is steering him through the crowd, making sure he talks to all the people he should talk to but, if left to his own devices at this sort of function, would spend the night dodging. She hasn't even let him grab a drink yet, insisting that he needs one hand free for shaking at all times, and, as if to preempt the argument that he has two hands for a reason, refuses to relinquish her hold on his other arm.

She knows him too well. If given half the chance, he'll slip out, abandoning her to the mucky mucks. He may be a firm believer in never leaving a man behind, but every rule has its exceptions.

Besides, when she's wearing that damned evening gown that matches her eyes perfectly and shows off the curves he'd once been very well acquainted with, it's hard to argue that she falls into the category of "man" and she knows it.

They've just finished the requisite grip and grin with the last of the joint chiefs when the president arrives to whisk them away. Their commander in chief absolutely adores Sam, and it's no mystery why. She's got more than a decade of intergalactic adventure under her belt, a brain that can run circles around the best supercomputers Earth has to offer, and more charm than just about everyone else he gets to meet with in a given week combined. The fact that she's a hell of a lot nicer to look at than his other military advisors probably doesn't hurt either.

The attention makes her uncomfortable, but she grins and bears it like the trooper she is. Knowing that she's got it worse than he does makes it easier for Jack to put up with the overly enthusiastic handshakes and jovial chit chat. Still, it's times like this when he really misses Henry Hayes.

"Jack! I trust you enjoyed our little surprise," Hayes' successor says. He pumps Jack's arm for all he's worth and shares a conspiratorial wink with Sam.

"It was certainly a surprise, Mr. President."

The shake is mercifully short. After four or five good, strong pumps, the other man's attention is diverted to Sam. He clasps her free hand between his, then leans in and pecks her cheek.

"I'm just sorry we couldn't get you and your crew back a bit earlier in the day. I hope Jack had enough time to give you a proper welcome home before you made your way here tonight." He winks at her again before shooting Jack a knowing grin.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack notices Sam's smile take on a more forced quality. The hand nestled securely in the crook of his elbow squeezes pointedly, but Jack just pats her fingers and shifts his weight slightly, putting just enough pressure on her freshly painted toes to get his point across.

"We're… happy to be here, sir." Jack offers what he hopes looks like an earnest grin and pats Sam's fingers again.

The president opens his mouth to say more, but an aide intervenes, whisking him away to meet with the Ambassador of Such-and-Such. The leader of the free world sticks around long enough to shake Jack's hand and kiss not just one but both of Sam's cheeks. Then he's gone, leaving the two of them alone.

Which would be a good thing, if not for his parting words. "One day soon, you're going to have to make an honest woman out of her, Jack. We could do with a good wedding around here."

As soon as he's out of earshot, Sam rounds on Jack. "What the hell was that about?"

Jack tries playing dumb, figuring it's pretty plausible, since he is dumb, compared to her. "What?"

"Jack…"

"The president sort of doesn't know that we aren't together anymore."

"You haven't told him?"

"I know it's hard to believe, but it hasn't exactly come up in our conversations about crew deployments or planetary defense or off-world operations. Besides, you still haven't told Cassandra."

"You haven't told Daniel and Teal'c."

"I thought we agreed I didn't have to tell them."

"We did no such thing, and you know it." Sam delivers the reminder along with a sharp pinch to the sensitive skin at his elbow. "I can't believe this is happening! We broke up over a year ago and the only people who know it are you and me!"

"To be fair, in that whole time you've only been home for three and a half months. And we are still living together. I can understand where the confusion comes from."

She rolls her eyes. "Jack, if the President of the United States is expecting us to get married sometime soon, don't you think Daniel and Teal'c and Cassie are checking their mailboxes for wedding invitations on a pretty regular basis?"

"Probably," he admits grudgingly. He releases her arm and turns to face her properly. "Look, I'll tell the guys the next time I talk to them. In the meantime, can we just enjoy the fact that you're home?"

The faint lines time and tension have etched into her skin are deeper than usual, thanks to the frown on her face. "You promise you'll tell them?"

"I promise." He squeezes her bare shoulder, silently thanking whatever actual gods may be out there for returning her safely yet again. "Now, let's relax and grab some drinks. After all, I still have to give you a proper welcome home." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, doing his best to look every bit the scoundrel.

"And your idea of a proper welcome home is…?"

"Cake!"

She grins and loops her arm through his. "Deal."

Arm in arm, they wind their way across the packed hall, navigating around big wigs that would love nothing more than to monopolize their time. Since everyone believes they're still a couple, they might as well use it to their advantage.

He may not be the man elated to have the love of his life home, but tonight, that man looks a lot like the guy thrilled to have one of his best friends back on terra firma. If confusing the two leads everyone else to give him and Sam some time alone together, Jack is happy to let the mistake go uncorrected.

The key turns in the lock exactly fourteen minutes earlier than usual. Sam mutters a curse under her breath and hurriedly swipes the knife back and forth a few more times. She'd been counting on having those last fourteen minutes to finish up, but apparently that had been too much to ask for.

Trust Jack to use any excuse to escape from the office early.

"Sam?"

"In here."

The slightly longer than usual silences between his footfalls on the hardwood floor indicate there's a bounce in his step. It's strange to hear that particular cadence in his walk on a Tuesday when there are still three more long workdays to slog through – at least – but there's a reason for his good mood today.

"Do I smell… Cake!" Jack says happily as he pokes his head into the kitchen.

She turns and waves five icing coated fingers at him in greeting. "Surprise!"

"What's this for?"

She shrugs, content to play dumb for a little while longer. "Just because."

"Well you've got good timing." Jack bounces on the balls of his feet and grins proudly.

"Oh?" Sam licks the icing off her thumb while she waits for him to explain his downright giddy behaviour.

"I met with the president today."

"That doesn't usually put you in such a good mood." He plays nicely when required, but Jack doesn't like the new administration as much as he liked Henry Hayes and his people. She just hopes it's less obvious to the new people than it is to her.

"He doesn't usually pin another set of stars on my shoulders."

Sam breaks out in a genuine grin, glad she can drop the act now. "Congratulations!"

Mindful of her sticky fingers and the mess they can make of an immaculately pressed dress uniform, Sam gives him a careful hug. Since it's a special occasion, she doesn't protest when Jack takes advantage of the fact that her back is turned and swipes a finger full of icing from the side of the cake.

"Curious that you just happened to bake a cake on the same day the president promoted me, isn't it?" he asks casually.

"Indeed." She's noncommittal, doing her best impersonation of Teal'c.

"And that you were ordered to bring the Hammond home a few days early for no particular reason."

"I'm sure the president had reasons, he just chose not to share them with either of us," she says, playing dumb.

He drops his chin and tucks his face into her shoulder. "He told you he was promoting me today, didn't he?"

Busted.

"He kind of had to."

"And why, pray tell, did he have to?"

Sam breaks the hug and steps back. "How closely have you looked at those extra stars?"

Jack cranes his neck and leans to one side, trying to get a good look at the new hardware recently pinned on his left shoulder.

"That one was General Hammond's. You've got one of my dad's on the other side."

He straightens up in surprise. "What?"

"The president gave me a head's up when all the paperwork went through," she explains. "I slipped them to him at the dinner on Saturday."

"Sam, I appreciate it, but I can't accept your dad's star. You're going to need it one day."

She shrugs. "He had more than one."

"You're going to need them all, and then some."

Sam smiles, warmed by his confidence in her. Even after all these years, even after seeing her falter in her meteoric rise up the chain of command as priorities and career goals changed, he still believes she'll make it to the top one day.

"He'd want you to have it, Jack. So would General Hammond."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He nods and offers her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"You deserve it," she assures. "Now, go get changed for dinner. We've got plans"

Even though they're not together anymore, Sam still thinks it's adorable when his face falls in disappointment. "Do I have to?"

She schools her features into her most serious expression. "Yes, Jack. No arguments."

"But…"

"The pizza will be here any minute."

Right on cue, he perks up. "Pizza?"

"Pizza," she confirms, grinning. "Go get comfortable."

"Have I told you lately that you're incredible?"

Her smile falters for just a moment. He'd said the same words to her countless times back when they'd still been together. Jack takes a split second longer to realize what he's said. When he does, his eyes telegraph an apology even before he can form the words.

"It's fine," she assures.

"I didn't…"

"It's fine," she repeats more forcefully. Then, plastering a bright smile on her face, she adds, "After all, I am pretty amazing."

"Yes, you are," Jack says quietly. In the blink of an eye he's closed the distance between them, kissed her forehead, and made his escape from the uncomfortable reminders of what they no longer have.

She lets him go. They both need a few moments to regroup, otherwise this evening that's supposed to be about celebrating his promotion will become an awkward event they won't be able to escape from quickly enough.