"Are you sure you are ready to be back?" Sam asks looking critically as Jack puts on the boots. She's pretty sure the only reason he is back a mere week after he got his cast off is the fact that he sucked up to the physical therapist. It wasn't that he actually flirted with the woman. It was just this thing Jack did, with waitresses, and nurses, and gas station attendants, anything female that he had to deal with on a daily basis (the men of the same professions were immune to his charms (usually)).

He just locked eyes with them, and let them get lost in his chocolate brown depths. Then he listened when they talked, and would start each interaction after the first by remembering some antidote they had let drop, or building on some inside joke that they had come up with previously.

He had them wrapped around his little finger. It was a symbiotic relationship really. The worker got to be actually entertained by a customer or patient, and Jack got the very best service.

She was just a little worried that his physical therapy, impressed by him knowing all the technical terms (how many time had that man been injured?) might have let him go to soon which might provide a determent to the man's life.

"I'm fine, how about you?" he asks cheekily, "You've been gone a whole lot longer than I was, and you didn't even have a surgery."

"She has a baby!" Daniel explains in horror.

"I believe O'Neill intended for his statement to be humorous. Do not get your panties in a bunch."

All of SG-1 stare at Teal'c for a long moment before Jack quips, "I vote that we take away his TV."

"I believe any attempt in that direction would result in more medical leave," Teal'c replies.

"Leave him alone. He doesn't have to sleep, and he's not allowed of base. He has to do something," Daniel defends.

"I gave him my copy of Wizard of Oz to watch," Jack pouts.

"I watched it. It was not a lengthy endeavor."

"Watch it again. You would be better off quoting the wizard than whoever that was, any day of the week," Jack insists.

Sam rubs her finger across her three-month old's chubby cheeks in the picture in her locker before slamming it shut. "Let's move out people," she commands.

"I think that's my line," Jack says.

-0-

It's the first time in three months that both of them are actually cleared for lovemaking. In light of that fact it feels like an excuse to say that she isn't in the mood, but it's really the truth. Seeing yourself as a robot is bound to cause a sort of existential crisis.

"Jack," she says trying to come up with an apology.

"It's okay. I'm half afraid that I would come with motor oil."

"Ew," she moans.

"Do you think they can do it?" he asks seriously.

"I hope so. I won't want to think about them spending their lives right next to each other without actually getting to come together."

"I hope that isn't our fate," he says with a rueful laugh.

It's not the first time that he's joked about them never being intimate, but Sam is pretty determined that it is going to be his last. Soon, she promises herself. Very soon.