Two days later, as SG-1 stepped through the shimmering event horizon of the Stargate, they were immediately greeted by the familiar sight of Stargate Command's concrete walls and bustling personnel. The familiar but slightly disorienting thud of reality settling back into place hit them, followed by a deep exhale from Jack. His neck still throbbed, but the pain was far less severe than before, thanks to Carter's intervention.

At the bottom of the ramp stood General George Hammond, arms folded. His no-nonsense expression welcomed the returning team. He gave them a quick once-over, his eyes lingering slightly on Jack, likely noticing the slight stiffness in his posture.

"Welcome back, SG-1," Hammond said, his gravelly voice cutting through the noise of the control room. "How did the mission go?"

Jack glanced at Daniel, who naturally took the lead in summarizing the diplomatic aspects of the mission.

"The planet's inhabitants are interested in future negotiations. They seem to have a rich cultural history that could benefit us, and—"

"There were complications, General," Jack interrupted with his usual dry tone, not wanting to delve too deeply into the specifics of the near-death experience. "Ran into a Jaffa patrol. Took care of it. We're all good."

Hammond's eyes narrowed slightly, taking in the whole meaning behind Jack's oversimplified report.

"You'll give me the full details in the debrief. But first, all of you head to the infirmary. Doctor Fraiser needs to clear you before anything else." He raised an eyebrow as he looked directly at Jack. "That includes you, Colonel."

Jack sighed. "Sir, I'm fine."

Hammond wasn't having it.

"Infirmary, Colonel. That's an order."

Jack led the team out of the gate room with a begrudging nod, muttering.

"Sure, let's all play doctor's favorite patient again."

The infirmary was as clinical and unwelcoming as ever, its bright lights casting a sterile glow over the beds and medical equipment. With professionalism and quiet determination, Chief Medical Officer Janet Fraiser was already waiting for them. Her look could make even the most hardened soldiers think twice about arguing.

"SG-1," she greeted, eyes scanning the team with practiced efficiency. "You know the drill—let's start with Colonel O'Neill."

Jack sat on the edge of the nearest bed, already bracing himself for the lecture he knew was coming. Fraiser approached him, stethoscope in hand, eyes sharp.

"I hear you've been hiding an injury, Colonel."

Jack gave a sheepish shrug, playing it off as best he could.

"Just a pulled muscle, Doc. Nothing to worry about."

Janet raised an eyebrow.

"Let's see if that's really the case."

She started with a quick assessment, checking Jack's vitals before moving to his neck and shoulders. Her fingers pressed expertly into the muscles Sam had worked on days earlier, and Jack winced.

"Still tender, huh?" Fraiser said, her voice carrying a hint of reprimand.

"Yeah, well, Carter helped a bit, so it's better now," Jack replied, trying to divert attention away from how bad it had been.

Janet shot Sam a quick appreciative glance before returning to Jack.

"You were lucky, Colonel. You're dealing with a severe muscle strain, likely caused by overstretching the muscles in your cervical spine. You could have torn something if you hadn't gotten help from Major Carter when you did."

Jack grimaced.

"Great, so what's the verdict, Doc? Am I grounded?"

Janet Fraiser smiled faintly, though her tone remained clinical.

"I wouldn't say grounded, but you need at least two days of rest, no heavy lifting, and no sudden movements. I'm also prescribing you some muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory meds. Ice the area regularly and stretch carefully. And if the pain doesn't improve, we'll do further tests to rule out any more serious damage."

"Two days off, huh?" Jack perked up slightly at that. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

Janet gave him a stern look.

"Only if you take it seriously, Colonel." She turned to the rest of the team. "The rest of you seem fine—just the usual post-mission checkups, but make sure you stay hydrated and get some rest."

After being cleared by Janet Fraiser, the team headed to the briefing room, where General Hammond was already waiting. The debriefing was quick and efficient, as usual. Daniel gave a more detailed account of their interactions with the locals, while Teal'c provided tactical insight into their battle with the Jaffa. Jack, true to form, kept his input succinct, giving just enough detail to satisfy Hammond without dwelling on the more dramatic elements of the fight.

When the debriefing concluded, Hammond glanced around the table.

"You've all earned some downtime. SG-1 is off duty for the next forty-eight hours. I expect you all to be ready for the next mission by the end of that."

Jack leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and wincing slightly as his neck protested.

"Two days off. Sounds like a vacation."

Hammond gave a small smile. "Enjoy it, Colonel. Dismissed."

As they left the briefing room and made their way down the hall, Jack cleared his throat, the casualness in his voice a little too forced.

"So… two days off. Anybody up for a movie night?" He cast a glance at Carter, the hint of something unspoken in his eyes.

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard.

"Movie night, Sir?"

Jack shrugged, trying to play it cool.

"Yeah, you know, as a way of saying thanks for the help. I thought it'd be nice. We haven't done it in a long time."

Daniel, who had been trailing behind, chimed in with a smirk.

"Oh, so this is a thank you movie night? Not just an excuse to watch bad action flicks?"

Jack shot him a mock glare.

"Hey, my movie choices are impeccable. But yeah, a little bit of thanks never hurt. Besides, I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous. What's less strenuous than sitting on a couch?"

Teal'c, who had been characteristically silent, raised an eyebrow.

"Will there be sustenance, O'Neill?"

Jack grinned. "Pizza, Teal'c. Lots of pizza."

Sam crossed her arms, looking both amused and unsure.

"Are you sure you're up for it, Sir? You should be resting."

"Carter, I'm resting. Pizza, a movie, a comfortable couch. Doesn't get much more restful than that."

Daniel chuckled.

"All right, I'm in. Could use a break from the research anyway."

Teal'c nodded solemnly.

"I will also attend this gathering. I have enjoyed the Earth custom of 'movie night' before."

Jack looked at Carter, his eyes meeting hers for a beat too long.

"What do you say, Major? You coming?"

Sam hesitated, feeling the weight of the offer and the unspoken tension between them from the tent.

"Sure, Sir. I'll be there."

Jack gave a quick nod, satisfied. "Great. My place at 1900 hours. Don't be late."

Later that evening, Jack sat in his living room, fresh pizza wafting through the air. He adjusted his position on the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot that didn't aggravate his neck. The doorbell rang, and he grinned, knowing it was the team.

First through the door was Daniel, holding a bag of chips and a six-pack of soda.

"Thought I'd contribute to the snack situation," he said, tossing the items on the table.

Teal'c followed closely behind, his ever-serious expression contrasting with the relaxed atmosphere. He gave him a whole pack of donuts.

"I trust this will be an evening of learning, O'Neill," he said, eyeing the stack of DVDs on the coffee table.

"If by learning, you mean watching explosions and bad one-liners, then yeah," Jack replied with a grin.

A few moments later, Sam arrived, looking slightly more relaxed in civilian clothes—jeans and a simple jacket—though still carrying the same professionalism she always had around Jack.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, though it was barely 1905. "Got caught up with some paperwork."

Jack waved her off.

"You're just in time. Grab a slice."

As they settled in, the banter flowed easily, though Jack and Sam occasionally exchanged looks that said more than their words. The tension from earlier hadn't entirely dissipated, but the comfort of the team and the familiarity of their friendship made it easier to push it aside—for now.

As the first movie began, Jack leaned back onto the couch, feeling the pleasant dull ache in his neck. He glanced over at Carter, who gave him a quick smile before turning her attention back to the screen.

They may have fixed his neck, but some things, like their unresolved feelings, would take much more than a massage.

The movie night was in full swing, and as expected, Jack had picked an action-packed flick that leaned heavily into explosions, impossible stunts, and cheesy one-liners. It was the perfect mix of mindless entertainment, at least as far as Jack was concerned. He sat back with a satisfied grin as the screen lit up with another over-the-top car chase.

Teal'c, seated in his usual stoic posture, seemed equally engrossed.

"This warrior's ability to engage multiple enemies while driving at high speed is… impressive." His deep voice resonated with sincere admiration.

Jack pointed at the screen, excited.

"See, Teal'c gets it! It's all about improvisation. This guy can turn a car, a piece of wire, and duct tape into a tactical advantage."

Sitting on the other side of the room, Sam politely smiled but couldn't hide her skepticism.

"I don't know, Sir. I mean, the physics are—well, completely impossible."

Jack leaned forward, his expression one of mock offense.

"Carter, it's not about the physics. It's about the entertainment value."

Sam laughed a little. Sometimes, he sounded just like Richard, who was also a fan of action movies—lousy action movies.

"I get that, Sir, but don't you ever watch something and… want it to make sense?"

Sensing an opportunity to defend the film, Teal'c added, "I have learned that Earth's 'action films' often prioritize spectacle over logic, Major Carter. It is an acceptable form of diversion."

Sam shrugged, still smiling.

"Maybe for you two, but I prefer something with more… substance."

Daniel, who had been half-watching the movie and half-reading through a book he brought along, suddenly perked up.

"Substance? Come on, Sam, it's not that bad. I mean, for what it is—"

"Explosions, car chases, and conveniently indestructible heroes?" Sam finished for him.

Jack grinned, looking amused.

"Exactly! It's a classic formula. And you're saying it's not your thing, Carter?"

She smiled a bit softer again as her eyes flickered to Jack.

"Let's just say I don't choose action films for my downtime."

"You should start," Jack said, throwing a piece of popcorn at her, which she dodged easily. "You're missing out on some pure cinematic genius."

Daniel chuckled and glanced at Sam.

"Well, to be fair, I don't think Jack picks these movies for the intellectual stimulation." He smirked. "Or maybe he just likes the explosions because it reminds him of the missions we go on."

Jack leaned back, hands behind his head.

"Explosions are an art form, Daniel."

At that, Daniel shrugged.

"Maybe. But if I had to guess, Jack, your real favorite missions are the ones where it's calm… desert planets, perhaps?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Deserts?"

Daniel nodded.

"Yeah. You've mentioned liking the wide-open spaces, especially if there's a lake or a beach around."

The team chuckled, expecting some sarcastic comment. Instead, Jack surprised them.

"I kinda do like those missions." He shrugged, clearly not making a big deal of it. "Calm desert planet, little lake to swim in when things aren't going south. Not the worst way to spend a day."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"I was unaware that you enjoyed swimming during missions, O'Neill."

"When it's calm, Teal'c. It doesn't happen often, but when it does..." Jack made a mock swimming motion with his arms. "I take advantage."

Daniel's mischievous grin spread slowly across his face as he eyed Sam.

"Maybe you're just waiting for the perfect moment to see Sam in a bikini at one of those lakes."

The room fell into immediate, stunned silence.

Sam's eyes widened as she turned a deep shade of red, her cheeks practically glowing under the dim living room light. Jack's expression froze, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn't believe what had just come out of Daniel's mouth.

Teal'c, ever the observer, cocked his head slightly.

"Is there a reason you wish to see Major Carter in such attire, O'Neill?"

Daniel, realizing too late that he'd crossed a line, raised his hands in a quick defensive gesture.

"Wait, that's not what I meant!" He stumbled over his words. "I was just—uh, it was just a joke, okay? You know, because… the lake… and, uh, you know what, never mind!"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to regain some semblance of control over the conversation.

"Yeah, Daniel… jokes. Great." He glanced at Carter, who looked mortified but was trying to hold it together.

"Right! So… back to the movie!" Daniel said, far too brightly, immediately turning back to the screen and engaging Teal'c in a sudden, overly animated discussion about the merits of the film's tactical sequences. Teal'c, unfazed by the awkwardness, nodded along, offering occasional comments.

The movie continued, but the atmosphere had irrevocably changed. Sam stayed unnervingly quiet, and Jack made a point to laugh at every explosion on-screen, even the ones that didn't warrant it, clearly overcompensating the tension in the room.

As the credits rolled and Daniel and Teal'c prepared to head home, Sam and Jack found themselves alone in the kitchen. Jack was busy cleaning up the leftover pizza boxes, his movements deliberately casual, while Sam gathered the empty soda cans and plates.

There was a heavy silence between them. Sam glanced at Jack several times before finally working up the courage to speak.

"Sir," she began, her voice quieter than usual.

Jack looked up, meeting her eyes with a curious expression.

"Yeah?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding.

"What Daniel said… about, um, the bikini thing. Was that… was there any truth to it?"

Jack's reaction was immediate—he blinked rapidly, pretending not to understand.

"Bikini thing?" he asked, feigning ignorance, though his voice was a little too high-pitched.

Sam gave him a pointed look, clearly not buying it.

"You know what I'm talking about."

Jack paused, setting the pizza box too carefully, then sighed, his usual bravado gone.

"Carter, it was just Daniel being Daniel. You know how he is."

But Sam wasn't letting it go. "That's not what I asked."

Jack met her gaze, realizing there was no dodging this one. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair before answering, his tone a mix of honesty and awkwardness.

"Okay, fine. Yeah, I wouldn't mind."

Sam blinked, her heart skipping a beat. "Wouldn't mind…?"

Jack cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at her.

"You know… seeing you… in a bikini. Not that I'm saying I—uh, it's just…" He trailed off, giving up as he realized he couldn't explain his way out of this. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind."

The kitchen fell into a charged silence. Sam's cheeks were hot again, but it wasn't out of embarrassment this time—it was something else entirely. She wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she didn't. Instead, they both stood there, frozen in that strange, almost unbearable moment.

Before either of them could speak again, Daniel and Teal'c reappeared in the doorway.

"We're ready to head out, Jack," Daniel announced, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Teal'c, as usual, gave a slight nod.

"I thank you for the evening, O'Neill. It was most enjoyable."

Jack exhaled as if relieved to be saved from further conversation.

"Right. See you guys tomorrow."

Sam quickly stepped around the counter, joining Daniel and Teal'c as they prepared to leave.

"Thanks for the invite, Sir," she said, her voice betraying nothing.

Jack gave her a quick nod, his eyes meeting hers briefly—just long enough to make it clear that whatever had just happened, it wasn't over.

Jack stood in the quiet kitchen as the door closed behind them, letting out a long breath.

The following day, Jack stood outside Sam's door, feeling unusually nervous for what was supposed to be a simple conversation. He'd woken up early, intending to clear the air about Daniel's bikini comment and, in the process, offer a peace offering in the form of breakfast. He knocked on the door and waited, shuffling his feet, preparing himself for whatever awkwardness might arise.

The door swung open, and whatever speech Jack had prepared instantly vanished from his mind. Sam stood there, clearly half-asleep, her hair messy and sticking up in all directions. She was wearing an old, slightly too-small tank top and a pair of black boxers that left very little to the imagination. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, but they widened in surprise when she saw who was standing at her doorstep.

"Sir?" Her voice was groggy, and the realization of her attire hit her at the same time it hit Jack.

Jack's brain short-circuited. His eyes instinctively flickered downward before he snapped them back up, staring a little too hard at her face.

"Carter, I—uh… I was just…" He trailed off, blinking a few times. "Breakfast."

Sam's cheeks flushed a deep red as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I—uh—give me a second!" she stammered, stepping aside in a hurry to let him in. "Just… let me go change."

Jack nodded, stepping into the small entryway of her house, trying very hard not to think about what he'd just seen.

"Yeah, no rush. Take your time." Jack shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to project an air of casual ease.

Sam disappeared down the hallway, and Jack exhaled slowly, trying to regain his composure. He wasn't sure why he was surprised—it wasn't the first time he'd seen Carter in a more vulnerable state, but this… this was different. After painfully awkward minutes, he heard the water running as she showered.

Trying to distract himself, he glanced around Sam's living room. The space was cozy and filled with personal touches that spoke of her character—bookshelves lined with a mix of scientific texts, books, and novels, framed photos capturing moments of joy.

His gaze landed on one particular picture that made his stomach knot. It was of Carter and Colonel Richard Harris, both beaming at the camera atop a snow-capped mountain, the sun shining brightly behind them. Richard's arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close as they shared a moment of pure happiness. It was the only photo she had displayed of them, and Jack couldn't help but notice how it stood out among the others.

A chill ran through him as he realized that they had never once discussed her marriage or subsequent divorce. It was a topic wrapped in a thick silence as if it were forbidden to tread upon. Even now, it hung between them, unspoken yet palpable. Despite the countless missions Jack and Richard had undertaken together at Stargate Command, Carter remained a carefully avoided subject.

She had always addressed Harris as "Colonel" or "Sir" at the base, maintaining a strict professionalism. Still, Jack couldn't shake the discomfort that slithered through him at the thought of their relationship outside the confines of SGC. How did they interact when no one was watching? Did she still smile at him like she used to smile at Jack when no one was watching? Did they share laughs, moments of intimacy that made Jack's stomach churn just to picture?

Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing on the sound of his breath. He needed to push those feelings aside for now. Carter was here, and that was what mattered. Whatever history she had with Harris didn't define the present moment—they had their complexities to navigate.

Eventually, she returned, freshly showered, wearing jeans and a simple blue t-shirt, her face still slightly flushed.

"Sorry about that, Sir. I wasn't expecting company this early."

Jack waved it off casually, trying to act like the last few minutes hadn't been incredibly awkward.

"No problem, Carter. My fault for showing up unannounced." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "I figured I'd owe you breakfast after… you know, last night."

Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. "Breakfast, huh?"

Jack nodded and gestured toward the door.

"Thought we could go someplace nice. Clear the air a bit. What do you say?"

"Sure," she nodded, still confused by his early presence.

They drove to a quaint, family-owned diner just outside of town. The place was cozy, with wooden booths and checkered tablecloths. A small chalkboard behind the counter listed the day's specials, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pancakes filled the air. Jack parked the truck and held the door open for Carter as they walked in.

They settled into a booth by the window, the sun streaming in, making the atmosphere warm and inviting. A waitress appeared all smiles, and took their orders. Jack went for his usual—pancakes, eggs, and bacon—while Sam opted for an omelet and fruit.

Once their coffee arrived, Jack leaned back, sipping from his mug and looking at Carter across the table.

"So… about last night."

Sam stirred her coffee, her expression thoughtful but guarded.

"Yeah, last night." She looked up, meeting his eyes. "Sir, I didn't mean to make things awkward with the whole… comment."

Jack shook his head.

"You didn't. That was all Daniel." He took another sip of coffee before setting it down. "I just… I don't want you thinking there's anything weird between us."

Sam tilted her head slightly, giving him a knowing look.

"Isn't there?"

Jack paused. She wasn't wrong, and they both knew it.

"Look, Carter, things have been complicated for a while now. Between missions, what we've been through… it's getting harder to ignore, isn't it?"

Sam leaned back in her seat, her expression softening.

"Yeah. It is." She exhaled slowly. "There's a lot we haven't talked about."

Jack nodded. "Like P3R-118."

Sam's eyes flickered with recognition. Jonah and Thera. The time they'd spent together, the connection they'd formed under the influence of their new identities. It was something they had never fully discussed.

"We weren't ourselves then," Sam said quietly. "But… we weren't exactly strangers either."

Jack looked down at his coffee, his fingers tapping against the side of the mug.

"No, we weren't." He paused before adding, "Then there was P4X-347. The whole 'Light' thing."

Sam let out a small, humorless laugh.

"Yeah. That one was… intense." She didn't elaborate, but the memory was evident in both their minds—the addiction, the way their emotions had been heightened, the confessions that had slipped through the cracks of their usual professionalism.

Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And, of course, the base… when the alien life force took over the computer system."

Sam's expression tightened. That had been one of the most challenging moments for both of them—when Jack had been forced to kill her to stop the alien influence. Even though her consciousness, restrained while the entity was in her body, returned to her body, the weight of that moment still hung between them.

"I know you didn't have a choice," Sam said softly. "But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

Jack shook his head, his voice low. "No. It doesn't."

They fell into a quiet, reflective silence, the weight of everything they hadn't said before now pressing down on them. It was strange, Jack thought, how something as simple as a pulled muscle had forced them to confront all this. All the things they'd been avoiding. All the things they have been kept in that room.

The food arrived, providing a brief distraction as they dug in. Though the conversation was lighter initially, it inevitably drifted back to where it had left off.

Sam finally broke the silence, her tone serious but not unkind.

"It's not just the missions, Sir. It's us. We've been… navigating around each other for years."

Jack looked up from his plate, his expression unreadable.

"I know." He took a deep breath. "And it's getting harder."

Sam nodded, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made his stomach twist.

"We can't keep pretending this is nothing. But… we also can't do anything about it. Not with the regulations."

Jack leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

"I get it, Carter. I do. That doesn't mean it's easy."

Sam looked down at her plate, her fingers tracing the edge of her fork.

"No. It doesn't."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The truth hung heavy between them—there was something there, had been for a long time. But they were bound by their duty, by the regulations that kept them apart.

Jack finally broke the silence, his tone light but carrying a weight of sincerity underneath.

"You know, for the record, Daniel's joke? Not as far off as he thinks."

Sam looked up, startled, and saw the faintest smile on his lips. He tried to break the tension, but the honesty was still there, just below the surface.

She gave a small smile of her own, shaking her head slightly.

"I'll keep that in mind, Sir."

The tension between them eased, but it didn't disappear entirely. It was always going to be there, lurking just beneath the surface. But for now, at least, they'd managed to talk—about more than just a pulled muscle.