Back at Homeworld Security, Jack quickly fell into his mundane routine of monotonous meetings, bureaucratic paperwork, and reports. Weeks passed, and the only respite from the monotony was the sporadic phone calls he had with Sam during her Earth-bound visits. When she was off-world, his world felt suspended, leaving him in anxious limbo until he received word of her safe return.
The morning started like any other until Jack's secretary delivered three files marked as classified and designated for his exclusive perusal. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence; he regularly received such files. However, as he glanced at the name on the top file, Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter, his heart skipped a beat. He carefully opened the accompanying letter with trembling fingers and began to read. By the time he'd finished, cold beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Reluctantly, he knew he had to open the files.
"Fuck!" he cursed aloud. He reluctantly opened the first file and began reading, then moved on to the second and finally the third. He closed them with a force that left his knuckles white, though he hadn't even realized it. "Fuck!" he muttered once more.
He glanced at the three files splayed out on his desk and let out a heavy sigh. He needed to speak with Sam, but he knew he had to discuss this with someone else. He picked up the phone and instructed his secretary to arrange a meeting with General Maurice Vidrine.
Jack had spent the entire night tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep. Sam was currently off-world, and her absence only heightened his anxiety. The three classified files he had perused that morning had firmly taken root in his busy mind. So, Major General Jack O'Neill found himself sleepless and restless, sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, and gazing at the precious few photographs they had taken during their honeymoon. These snapshots were a small treasure that kept Jack grounded during those difficult moments when he longed for Sam's presence.
His secretary had scheduled a meeting with General Maurice Vidrine for the following afternoon, but Jack couldn't fathom how he would make it through the hours until then. He was accustomed to soldiering on, having done so for over eight years while at SGC, but this night and the impending half-day felt particularly challenging. Jack drained the last beer and fixed his gaze on a photograph he held. It was one of Sam seated on the deck of their honeymoon bungalow, her eyes set on the vast expanse of the ocean. Her hair had begun to grow longer, and he loved the change, just as he loved every aspect of her.
His eyes lingered on her left hand, where her wedding and engagement rings gleamed. Jack's heart pounded loudly in their townhouse's otherwise quiet living room. He missed her more than words could express.
Following a nerve-wracking morning and the inability to eat anything at lunch, Jack found himself standing outside General Maurice Vidrine's office, his heart racing. The secretary gestured for him to enter, mentioning that the General was expecting him. Jack cleared his throat and pushed the door open. General Vidrine was seated behind his imposing desk and looked up as Jack walked in.
"Jack, what do I owe the pleasure?" Vidrine inquired, setting his pen down.
Jack attempted a smile.
"Maurice, thanks for seeing me. I suspect you're already aware," he replied, sitting in front of Vidrine's expansive desk.
The four-star General smiled faintly. "I might have an inkling," he admitted.
Jack decided to cut to the chase; neither man was a fan of small talk.
"I've received the files regarding Sam," he began. "I noticed that one of them falls under your command."
Vidrine leaned back in his chair.
"For the time being, yes," he confirmed.
Jack looked puzzled.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Vidrine sighed and leaned forward.
"I'm going to retire, Jack. It's time for me to move on," he announced.
Jack's surprise mirrored his reaction when Hammond revealed his retirement plans. "What is it with you guys deciding to retire all almost simultaneously?! First George, and now you? What am I supposed to do all alone!?" Jack exclaimed, his voice tinged with panic.
Vidrine chuckled.
"Relax, General. You're hardly alone or defenseless," he reassured him.
"Damn it, Maurice," Jack cursed, his frustration evident.
Vidrine gave him a stern look.
"Okay, I'm sorry. You've done a lot; I'm sorry to see you go. The Air Force and the Program will lose an invaluable asset," Jack admitted sincerely.
Vidrine nodded in acknowledgment.
"Thank you, Jack," he replied, appreciating the genuine sentiment, a rarity at the Pentagon.
"As for why you're here, yes, I recommended Samantha for that position, and if she accepts, I'll still be around. Rest assured that my successor is someone who also values her skills. I discussed it with him before making the recommendation."
Jack was studying his hands; he had left his wedding ring behind to avoid unwanted questions, knowing it was safely secured to his dog tags.
"Someone I know?" he inquired.
"I can't tell you that right now," Vidrine replied. "But, to put your mind at ease, know that he was one of the Generals who supported Samantha's reinstatement in the Air Force along with George and me."
Jack nodded, slightly relieved.
"Thanks, Maurice. I appreciate it," he said, gratitude evident in his voice.
Vidrine regarded the man seated across from him.
"Have you spoken with her?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Jack shook his head. "No, she's currently off-world," he replied.
Vidrine leaned in closer.
"Talk to her, Jack. My advice is to do it as soon as possible. They'll want an answer quickly and won't hesitate to apply pressure, especially on her," he advised.
Jack nodded once more. He was well aware of how these situations played out.
"I know. I'll discuss it with her when she returns. Thanks again," he said, getting up from his chair. "I won't take up more of your time."
Both men shook hands, and Jack left Vidrine's office, his head spinning with thoughts. He knew he had to speak with Landry to determine when SG-1 would return.
Landry informed Jack that SG-1 was expected back in two days, provided everything went according to plan. Jack sighed, recognizing that such assumptions were often far from accurate, given the unpredictable nature of their missions. Nevertheless, he instructed Landry to notify him immediately when SG-1 set foot on the Stargate ramp. Attempting to return to his work, however, proved to be a challenging task.
Surprisingly, SG-1 did return on schedule, and Landry promptly called Jack to deliver the good news that the team was back and in good condition. Jack allowed a few hours to pass before he texted Sam, requesting that she call him as soon as possible. He was typing a report when his cell phone rang, and he answered without hesitation when he saw Sam's ID on the screen.
"Hey," he greeted her.
"Hey, back. What's up?" Sam asked, a hint of concern evident in her voice.
"Are you okay? Did the mission go well?"
"Yeah, it's fine. What's going on, Jack?" Sam inquired, her familiarity with his tone and request for immediate contact raising her curiosity and concern.
"We need to talk. Can you catch a flight to D.C. this weekend?" Jack inquired.
"Sure, I can go Friday afternoon. We're free. What's going on, Jack?" Sam asked again, her concern deepening.
"Nothing's wrong. We need to discuss some proposals. But not over the phone," Jack reassured her.
Sam understood the importance of face-to-face discussions.
"Okay, I'll let you know my flight schedule," she agreed.
"I miss you," Jack confessed.
"I miss you too," Sam replied, her voice softening. She was in her lab, with her back turned to the surveillance cameras.
"Alright, I have to go. We'll talk later," Jack said as he noticed his secretary standing before him, holding a stack of papers.
"Okay," Sam replied and hung up, leaving Jack with a lingering sense of longing.
After a long, relaxing soak in the bathtub, Sam decided to give her husband a call. Jack was arriving home, juggling his house keys, a briefcase, and some takeout when his cell phone began to ring.
"Hi," he greeted, nearly dropping everything as he swung the door open.
Sam could hear the sounds of his arrival in the background.
"Hi. Do you want me to call back later?" she inquired, her body still warm from the hot bath.
"No!" Jack nearly shouted, carefully placing his briefcase and the Chinese takeout containers on the kitchen countertop. He removed his hat and continued, "I was just walking into the house, and my hands were full."
"Okay, I'll wait. Jack, take your time," Sam replied as she pulled on some sweatpants.
Jack began unbuttoning his jacket and took a seat on the couch.
"I'm okay. How are you?" he asked.
"Changing. I had a long, hot bath," she said, a smile creeping into her voice.
Jack groaned, his imagination running wild.
"Don't tell me that, honey. I'm miles away," he teased, closing his eyes.
"You asked," Sam pointed out, tossing her damp towel back into the bathroom.
"Did you have dinner already?" Jack inquired, trying to shift his thoughts away from the image of his naked wife in the bathtub.
"I was about to eat something now," she answered, going to the kitchen.
"Not 'something,' Sam. It would help if you ate properly," Jack admonished.
Sam opened her fridge and realized her options were limited to frozen dinners or frozen dinners. She selected one and placed it in the microwave.
"Yes, Jack," she agreed, then left the kitchen so he wouldn't hear the microwave's noise.
Unfortunately, he did hear.
"Are you having a frozen dinner again?" he asked, concerned.
"No," she fibbed.
"Samantha Carter-O'Neill," he warned playfully.
She couldn't help but smile.
"I'll tell the truth if you repeat my name," she replied, biting her lip.
Jack also grinned.
"Samantha Carter-O'Neill," he said slowly.
Even though he couldn't see her, Sam blushed from head to toe.
"Yes, I'm having a frozen dinner. I'll go shopping tomorrow. It's all I had at home, Jack," she admitted.
He sighed and shook his head.
"What am I going to do with you?" he mused.
"What am I doing in D.C. besides spending time with my husband?" she inquired as she returned to the kitchen.
Jack cleared his throat.
"We can't discuss that on the phone, Sam. I'm sorry," he said.
"Okay," she responded with a hint of resignation as she retrieved her macaroni and cheese from the microwave. "What are you having for dinner?" she asked.
"Chinese," he replied.
"How original, General," she teased with a smile.
"Too tired to cook," he admitted, realizing a moment too late that he might have revealed too much.
Sam paused in her eating.
"Why, Jack? Why are you too tired?" she asked slowly.
Jack attempted to downplay it.
"You know how it is—lots of paperwork to read, sign, boring meetings..." he explained, which was entirely accurate, though he omitted the sleepless nights.
Sam hummed.
"Is that all?" she asked skeptically.
"You don't think it's enough?" he replied with a slight chuckle.
"I'll have to check that personally," she declared, resuming her dinner.
"I can't wait," he responded sincerely.
"Me neither," she admitted. They continued to chat for a while until both confessed to being utterly exhausted and decided to end the call.