Jack was home alone on Sunday morning when the doorbell rang. Home alone because Sam had some gate diagnostic thingamajig and there were no teams scheduled to depart or return and it just worked out that he had to give her up on one of their rare days together. So as it happened, the doorbell's ring was a welcome sound because he was, well, bored.

He got up from his place on the couch and answered the door and was surprised to find, of all people, Daniel, standing on his doorstep looking a little nervous. "Hi," the younger man said.

"Hello."

When Jack didn't immediately shift to admit him, Daniel huffed a little. "Can I come in?"

"You gonna say something stupid?"

"Wasn't planning on it." Daniel adjusted his glasses nervously.

"Then sure, come on in." Jack stepped back and Daniel entered the house. "You want a beer?"

"It's, like, ten thirty in the morning."

"That a no?"

Daniel didn't grace him with an answer, Jack just shrugged and led him through to the living room.

"I know you and Sam are back together."

"Okay."

"I didn't really mean what I said-"

"Yes, you did. You were mad because I fucked up and she sided with me instead of you and you thought that she did that because she had feelings for me. Which wasn't exactly true, by the way, but that's neither here nor there."

"She did side with you because she had feelings for you."

"It wasn't about her having feelings for me. It was about her being my second in command. But I wouldn't expect you to understand the distinction."

"I'm not sure you do."

"You're saying stupid things," Jack growled.

Daniel raised his hands in supplication. "Sorry, sorry."

"We're clearly going to have to agree to disagree on where the lines exists on the Sam front," Jack said. "And I think it's safer if you didn't mention them anymore. She is... was... your friend, you know."

"I know," Daniel said softly. "I really never meant to hurt her. To hurt either one of you."

"Then what's your problem with the two of us being together?"

"I don't know? Maybe... maybe it's because... SG-1 isn't..."

"I know Hammond hasn't assigned you a permanent CO yet, but he will. And you will adjust. And it'll be fine."

"Teal'c is talking about leaving." Daniel confessed in a rush.

That surprised Jack. And he'd hate to see it happen, but he understood it, too. In large part, the alien's loyalty was to Jack first, and the SGC second, even if it said otherwise on paper. "Daniel, nothing stays the same forever. And you can't be mad at Sam because she chose to have a life. What did you want her to do? Spend the best years of her life pining for something? Isn't this better? She gets to have the Stargate program, the Stargate program gets to have her, and... I love her."

"She loves you, too," Daniel said softly.

"So that works out pretty good, huh? So, if Teal'c goes, and things change, it might not all be bad. SG-1 was a helluva ride the way we got to do things for so long, but it was a long ride, too, Daniel. Longer than most. And we should be grateful we got to go on it."

"Are you? Grateful?"

"Yeah," Jack said without hesitation.

"Despite everything that happened to you?"

"I ended up here, and I'm happy here," he said and he realized, as he said it, that it was true. Things weren't perfect, and he had some real work to do, but it was true. He was happy.

"How can you say that?"

"Why shouldn't I be able to?"

"Jack... you were tortured."

"I know that," Jack said and rolled his eyes. "But it's over." And there was more to life than the things that happened to him. He figured he could choose to live in that past or he could live in the present. He wasn't saying that he still didn't have to deal with what happened to him. Or that there weren't still bad moments, hell, bad days. But he was happy to live this life, with Sam by his side, and he didn't know if he would always get those things. He knew how easy it was to have everything he loved ripped away. And it was easy to want to be pessimistic and think it was going to happen again. But he couldn't live like that. He had to live one day at a time and he had to live in joy – especially if he wanted to keep Sam. And he did.

"I'm sorry I made this harder," Daniel said. "I really am. I know I owe Sam more apologies than she'll probably ever accept from me..."

"She'll forgive you for how hard you made it, in time. When the memory isn't so fresh. She just needs time. You might have to work to regain her trust. But you guys were too good of friends for this to completely derail your friendship."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I do. You said some really boneheaded things," Jack said and looked very pointedly at Daniel who had the good graces to blush, "but I don't think you did any of it with any real malice."

"I didn't," he said quickly.

"I also think, at first, you really were trying to help."

"I was!"

"But let this be a lesson to you – you're a lousy matchmaker."

"Yes. Yes, I am. But I always kind of thought that maybe you had a thing for her too. And it looks like maybe I was right," he said with a mischievous smile.

"Daniel," Jack said warningly.

"What? You can't even admit it now?"

But Jack had been thinking, lately, and maybe Daniel was right. Maybe he'd had thing for Sam long before he'd been willing to admit it, even to himself. It didn't matter, anyway, he reasoned, it didn't change the way things turned out. They were together now, and that was all that mattered. Right?

"Anyway," Daniel said, "let's just... can we just... bury the hatchet. I miss my friends."

Jack considered him carefully. He didn't really seem all that less likely to say stupid shit, but he really didn't seem to be doing it out of a place of hate. He just didn't seem to understand the dynamics between Sam and Jack. Which... okay, maybe that would take a little getting used to. He stuck out his hand and a relieved Daniel reached out to shake it. "Okay."

"Good."

"But you're going to have to square yourself with Sam."

"I already have. We have tentative peace," Daniel assured him.

"See that you maintain it." Jack warned.

"Right," Daniel said, with a gulp.

"Because we're friends, but if you hurt her... all bets are off."

Daniel nodded, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "Got it."

"Good. Now... I was thinking about driving over to grab Cassie and heading over to the park for a bit. You wanna go?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I think you should consider seeing a therapist," she said to him while her hands were kneading his shoulders and her legs were wrapped around his waist. She didn't know how he was going to take her pronouncement, but the truth was, he was still having guilt after they'd fool around. He was climaxing, and his climaxes were powerful, but he was still not connecting with her entirely and he was still shying away from her some and she knew it was the guilt that was weighing on him.

"Sam," he said, sounding resigned, "we've talked about this-"

"We've talked about MacKenzie. What about one of the Academy hospital therapists? Someone who's familiar with the program but who might be better equipped to handle your particular problem. Someone with a... softer approach. Someone who might deal more with... sexual issues."

"I've been through sex therapy once."

"And it helped."

"It helped me be able to fuck my wife again," he said volitatitively.

"Well, for what it's worth, we still haven't fucked," she said hotly. She took a deep breath. "It's only been a week, and I'm in no rush," she said as soothingly as she could. "But we both know you're still battling some guilt. And I don't want you to feel that way. I know this is a completely different situation than what you dealt with after Iraq," she flinched a little after she said the verboten word, but she remained resolute, "but I still think you'd benefit from a little outside perspective."

He wrapped his hands around her ankles. "And what if I don't want to go?"

"It's not a deal breaker, Jack. I just think it would be helpful. I want things to be normal for you."

"And if I think I just need time?"

"I'm willing to give it to you."

He sighed.

"You shouldn't have to."

"So does that mean you'll go?"

He fidgeted in the circle of her legs. "It means I'll call. Tomorrow. I'll at least see what's available."

She wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed him. Pressed her lips against his shoulder blade. "Thank you."

He pulled her around him so he could look her in the eye. "Therapy might not fix me."

"But it might. We won't know unless you try." She threaded her fingers into his soft, grey hair. "And I really do think it'll help. If nothing else, it'll be somebody else telling you that you have nothing to feel guilty about."

"I believe you. I do."

"In your head, I think you do. But I think in your heart, there's a part of you that doesn't think you're worthy. That same part of you that hallucinated all the horrible things you did? I think that's the part of you that you have to convince that it's okay to take what you're being given."

"Is all of this some sort of ploy?"

"A ploy for what?"

"To put me back together and get me back on a field unit?"

"I know you're going to find this hard to believe, but I don't want you on a field unit. I want you at the Academy, training recruits. SG-1 has a shiny new colonel as of today. Teal'c agreed to see how things work out. Daniel's... playing nicely. I have everything I could have ever dreamed of. Do I miss you out there? Absolutely and every single day. But if I had to choose, you out there or you here? I'd choose you, here, every day of the week." She leaned forward and kissed him soundly.

"I don't miss getting shot at," he said wryly. "And I like being chosen."

"Thank you for agreeing to talk to somebody. I know it's not your first choice, and I know you're mostly doing it for me."

He shrugged one shoulder. "If it's important to you," the it's important to me was implied.

She looked at him very seriously for a moment.

"What?"

She shook her head once, a wistful smile on her face. "I love you."

They weren't the kind to say it often. "Yeah?" He said, a satisfied grin playing about his mouth.

"Yeah."

"I love you, too."

He hauled her into his lap and showed her, with his lips and his tongue, exactly how much.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Jack walked into the house it was past dark but the house smelled like the dinner he'd put in the slow cooker and the lights were on in the living room and it felt so damned good to be coming home to somebody that it almost didn't matter that he'd spent an hour in therapy. He'd had the drive home to really collect himself and for that he was grateful because his therapist, Ethan, hadn't really pulled any punches.

Jack had vacillated, really, on whether or not he wanted to talk to a man or a woman about what he'd been through. Did he want to talk about problems with his dick with a man or a woman, was what it boiled down to. Ultimately, he decided it would be easier to talk to a man, because there were things he just wouldn't have to explain. Ethan was a nice enough guy. Youngish, blond hair, going grey. Tortoiseshell glasses that lent him an academic sort of look. Apparently had a thing for polo shirts and boat shoes. Left him with a casual sort of out-on-the-docks look that made Jack feel like, yeah, he could talk to the guy. Like maybe they were gonna get on a boat or something.

So Ethan had asked a lot of questions, surprisingly most about Sam and how Jack was doing with that relationship. Oh, they'd delved into Astarte and the drugs and the programming and forced sex – as it turned out he had trouble with the word rape – and he felt like maybe he'd gone a few rounds with a boxer by the time it was done.

"I'm home," he called out as he tossed his keys onto the little table near the door.

Sam appeared, barefooted and warm looking. She snaked her arms around him, pressed her lithe body against him and her lips to his. She kissed him hello sensuously in a way that awoke parts of him he was sure he wasn't going to need that night – not after the conversation he'd had with Ethan. "Hi," she whispered against his lips.

"Hi yourself. What was that for?"

"Consider it a thank you for doing something I know you didn't want to do."

"Is that how you're going to thank me after every session? Because I can see a Pavlovian response developing here..."

She chuckled lowly. "Maybe. Maybe I'll get more creative." She trailed a hand down his chest and then snagged his hand. She led him through to the kitchen where she busied herself taking up two plates of dinner. "Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather not?"

She didn't seem to be pulling for him to spill his guts, she just seemed to be trying to be supportive. "I don't think so," he said. "I think I'm all talked out."

She smiled at him. "Okay. No more talking. How about I talk? You can just listen."

"Sounds good."

Over dinner she told him about what had been going on at the mountain lately. She filled him in on things with Janet and Cassie. She told him about Colonel Brock and how he was settling into SG-1. She told him about her newest gadgets and gizmos. She's just... talked. And he let the sound of her voice wash over him. He let her center him.

The more he listened to her, the more he thought about her. And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted her. He thought about his conversation with Ethan and how they'd discussed what his hangups were and how to get over his hurdles and he thought, maybe it was just a matter of doing it. He wanted her. He really wanted her. And maybe things wouldn't be perfect, but they had to start somewhere, right?

"Sam?" He asked, interrupting something about Cassie and a fieldtrip.

"Yes?"

"I want to take you to bed."

She looked at him, startled. "Um, okay. It's a little early, though... and-"

"No, I don't want to go to bed, I want to take you to bed. It's time."

Her mouth made a little round o. "Let me just put the food away."

"I'll help," he said, not wanting her to dawdle.

Together they cleaned up the mess from dinner and soon, they were standing, facing one another in the bedroom. She smiled at him and then giggled. "I'm a little nervous."

"After everything we've already done?"

"Yeah, but, now we're standing here, staring at each other like something special is supposed to happen."

"Ah. Well. Something special is going to happen." But rather than give her a chance to reply – or to continue to overthink things – he stepped forward and captured her lips with his.

She relaxed into him immediately, her lips becoming soft and supple under his, her tongue immediately succumbing to the dance his started. Her arms wound around his neck, his hands immediately went to the buttons of her blouse. She smiled against his mouth, but she didn't stop him.

He unbuttoned her buttons one at a time, slowly, stroking the skin he revealed in a way that made her gasp. When he peeled her shirt off her shoulders she reached around to unhook her bra. He tried not to leer at her, but he wasn't sure he was completely successful. He might have gotten to look at her naked whenever he wanted, but it was still a new enough concept that it felt a little illicit when it happened. She dropped the bra onto the floor with a small smile.

He covered her breasts with his hands and marveled with the way his hands spanned the warm flesh, and the way her nipples pressed against the centers of his palms. He noted the contrast of his tanned skin against her the paleness of hers and the way her heat seemed to radiate into him. He tested the weight of first her left breast and then the right and then he leaned down to take a peaked nipple into his mouth, rolling the nipple over his tongue. She made the hottest little sound when he bit down gently and then made a deep, husky sound when he sucked.

While she was distracted he reached for the button of her jeans. He had her pants and underwear pooled on the floor while she was still whimpering over what he was doing to her breasts. He helped her step out of her jeans and then backed her over to the bed. He laid her out across the comforter, propped her up against the pillows and then stepped back to undress himself.

He yanked his shirt over his head, not at all concerned with how he got his clothes off as long as he got them off, but then he caught her eye and he noticed that she was watching him with deep desire and her hands trailing sensuously over her body. To that end, he slowed down. He wasn't a man for strip teases, but he didn't have to be perfunctory about it, either. He stripped off his slacks slowly and reveled in the way her eyes latched on to the front of his shorts. He was already half hard and it showed. He hooked his fingers into his shorts and pushed them down his legs, then he pulled off his socks. He stood before her, naked, for a long moment, letting her look her fill. Watching as she ran those capable hands over her body. It did things to him, watching her touch herself. He growled and launched himself at the bed.

He stretched out next to her and let his hand wander in a path just behind hers. They made a game of it. Her hand swirled around her breast, his hand swirled around her breast. Her hand dipped between her legs and stroked the soft skin of her inner thigh, so did his. She drew circles around her belly button with the pad of her middle finger, so did he. And through it all they kissed, wetly, their tongues dueling, meeting between their mouths, their teeth nipping at their lips.

He grew very hard against her hip, leaked precum against her and she wriggled against him, let him thrust against her smooth skin. He looked down and loved the way he was marking her, but it was time to be inside her. He was throbbing for her.

He rolled over so he was on top of her, insinuated himself between her thighs. Normally, he'd have rolled over onto his back, would have let her be on top for this first time, to let her control everything about the way she took him inside, but the memories of his time with Astarte were too fresh after his conversation with Ethan. So, no, this time, he needed to be the one in control. He met her eyes and she nodded minutely, as if she understood. Maybe she did.

He reached between them to test her readiness with his fingers. "Oh," she breathed before he could touch her, "I'm ready. I'm so ready."

Something about that made him impossibly harder. To think, just from his touches, just from his kisses, she was oh, so ready for him. He grasped his cock and guided it to her opening. He pressed inside her, slowly. He felt her wetness break and gush around him as he entered her. She was wet. So very, very wet and god, but was that a turn on.

"I love you," he breathed as he pushed inside her all the way.

She kissed him, then kissed his forehead, then threaded her fingers into his hair.

He drew out of her and slowly pushed back inside.

"Harder," she breathed.

He'd been worried about hurting her, with her not controlling his entry, but apparently that wasn't going to be a problem. He withdrew and then thrust back inside.

"Oh," she moaned. "Yes."

He continued to thrust into her and pull back out with the same intensity that made her make that sound that made his balls clench and his back tingle.

When he felt like he was barely holding on with a thread, he kissed her roughly then ripped his mouth from hers. "Are you close?"

She reached between them and fingered her clit. "I'm close," she confirmed

He could hold on, he could wait for her. The sweat was beading up on his back, but he could wait for her. He could feel orgasm clawing at him, sweet and dark. He could smell them together, rich and pungent in the room, and it was so satisfying.

She made a keening sound and he felt her inner walls begin to clutch at him. She gasped and then she moaned his name long and low. Her eyes slammed shut and her head was thrown back in pleasure. He finally let himself go. He pumped himself into her once, twice, three more times and then he was coming too, his orgasm coming from deep inside him to fill her in long bursts of heat that left him feeling completely wrung out.

He collapsed off to the side pulling her into him, reveling in the feeling of her sweaty, naked body against his. He had never really been one for cuddling after sex, but he found himself wanting to be touching her. He'd felt that way before, he remembered. There was a time, on a ship, not so very long ago when he'd wanted very much to be touching her.

He hadn't understood the feeling then. He wondered if maybe he hadn't been fooling himself more than just a little. He wondered if maybe he hadn't had feelings for her longer than he'd been willing to admit to himself. Maybe that was why it tore him up so badly when he'd hallucinated killing her. Maybe that was why he'd thought of getting back home to her when he'd been stuck in that hell-hole.

He held her close and hoped she too felt the connection between them. Hoped that the ever-present guilt he felt around sexual acts didn't bleed into or onto her experiences, too. His talk with Ethan had helped but he still felt the guilt, he wasn't better yet. Not that he expected one session to be the cure.

"You okay in there?" Sam asked him quietly, smoothing a hand over his chest.

"Yeah," he said, turning his head to kiss her on the forehead.

"Guilt?"

"Not much," he said.

"But enough?"

"It'll get better."

"Yes, it will," she promised.

And damn it, with her by his side, and with her conviction, he was pretty damn sure it would.

That's it, the end!

Thanks for sticking with me for over six months! It was a long ride... But we made it! I hope you enjoyed the story. I'm looking forward to the next one. Which probably won't start getting posted until after the Awards are either over or at least well underway. I haven't even started writing it yet... So, see you on the flip side!