Fortune Favors the Brave

 

By DJ Boyd

 

Part One

 

DAY SIX

 

"Ye-esss!" Jack O'Neill could not have been happier as he finished the stack of reports that had dogged him for a week, and delayed his departure to a well-earned vacation. He was the last member of SG1 to be able to get away from Cheyenne Mountain. General George Hammond had granted the SGCs' number one team two weeks leave, providing their CO (one Col. Jack O'Neill) completed the backlog of reports he had been avoiding.

 

Colonel O'Neill's team members had been sooo looking forward to the proffered leave time that it had been impossible for Jack to even wander down to the commissary for a bite of lunch without one of them appearing from the woodwork.

 

DAY ONE

 

"Sooo, How's it going Jack?"

 

"Jeez! Daniel, don't DO THAT! I'm an old man you're gonna give me a heart attack..."

 

"Oh, did I startle you? What happened to all those hyper senses of yours'? You know...the ones you developed to a fine edge from years of special ops activities, the ones you are so proud of, the ones... you like to rub in my face on practically every mission, the ones..."

 

"Daniel! Enough already, yeah, ok, you caught me off guard. Frankly, I didn't think a trip to the salad bar required special ops skills. Apparently... I was wrong. Excuse me while I get my grenade launcher and oozie, oh... and my wet suit, parachute, portable helicopter, poison darts, flack jacket and Captain Marvel decoder ring." Jack continued walking down the long hallway heading toward the commissary.

 

Daniel Jackson, Egyptologist, linguist, archeologist and Jacks' best friend, stopped dead in the hall of sublevel twenty-five of the SGC. " Decoder ring? You're...you're trying to avoid the question aren't you? Hmm...bad sign." Daniel looked over the tops of his glasses, peering at the taller man and tried to make up the distance between himself and Jack's lengthening stride.

 

"Look, Daniel, I'm hungry. I haven't had lunch yet and it's already 1400 hrs, that's 2:00pm to you civilian types."

 

"Why is that?"

 

"What?"

 

"1400 hrs instead of 2:00pm?" Daniel stretched out his arm and grabbed Jack's shoulder bringing him to a stop and turning him ninety degrees.

 

With a big sigh of 'Why me?' and a shake of his head O'Neill answered " Daniel?"

 

"Yes, Jack."

 

"Do you want me to finish my reports?"

 

"Yes, Jack."

 

"THEN GET OUT OF MY WAY SO I CAN EAT SOME LUNCH!"

 

"Yes, Jack. Oh... by the way... salad's all gone." Daniel's hand dropped, and found it's way into his pocket as he shrugged his shoulders in a motion of apology.

 

"Ah, for crying out loud!"

 

At that moment O'Neill's second in command, Major Samantha Carter, rounded the corner carrying a tray loaded with a plate of freshly prepared garden salad, accompanied by a huge slice of cheese pizza and a large Pepsi.

 

"Hey sir, how's it going?"

 

"That depends Carter... does that tray happen to have my name on it?"

 

After a conspiratorial glance in Daniel's direction, Sam Carter smiled and said, "Ya, sureyabetcha."

 

Jack couldn't help but laugh aloud. "It's a Sunday afternoon, you're both off duty, yet you've found time to serve me lunch...I'm touched...really...truth is, you people are reeeally worried I'm not going to get those reports finished aren't you?

 

Sam and Daniel looked at each other and in unison answered, "Yep!"

 

DAY TWO

 

With Teal'c, the enormous Jaffa, former First Prime to Apophis, guarding Jack's door, it looked for all the world as if Colonel O'Neill was a prisoner in his own office.

 

To the untrained eye, one would think the Colonel was being prevented from leaving. As the door swung open, Teal'c raised his right eyebrow in the direction of the figure quickly backing out of the room. "DanielJackson, as I mentioned, O'Neill does not wish to be disturbed at this time."

 

"Uhh, you were right about that Teal'c, see you later." Teal'c simply nodded in the direction of Daniel's rapidly retreating form.

 

"TEAL'C, KEEP DANIEL OUTTA HERE WILL YA!"

 

"I will endeavor to do so, O'Neill." A smile tugged at the normally sedate, and serious face of the warrior.

 

DAY THREE

 

A knock on his office door brought a sigh of defeat from the hard working Colonel.

 

"Colonel O'Neill, sir?"

 

"What now? Carter, I came in extra early today to get this pain in the neck out of the way. I am trying... really, I am. I mean you people must think I have no interest in taking any leave time. If that's what you....

 

"No, sir that's not why I'm here. Turn on your T.V."

 

O'Neill had not paused typing nor looked up from his laptop. Determined not to be disturbed by anyone today in the hopes of finishing this odious, yet necessary task. "I don't exactly have time for T.V. Carter."

 

"Please. Sir?" The Major nodded to the corner of the room where a T.V. hung from a ceiling brace, angled slightly toward the floor.

 

The sound of concern and disbelief in the voice of his 2IC made it impossible for him to ignore her. He looked up and saw a distraught Sam Carter. He had a feeling whatever she was trying to draw to his attention was a little beyond Jerry Springer. He nodded and silently opened his desk drawer, withdrew the remote and turned on the set.

 

What he saw next hit him like a punch in the gut. "Damn." He watched as an airliner plowed through the top stories of one of the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City.

 

His desk phone rang, startling both officers. The tension in the small office was apparent in the Colonel's voice as he answered his phone. "O'Neill...Yes, General, I just turned it on. Yes sir, I'll be right there."

 

Placing the receiver on its' cradle, Jack turned to the blonde woman still transfixed by the events playing out on the television screen. "Thanks, Carter." Sam's blue eyes were wide and shining with unshed tears. "Yes, sir." They both turned and together left Jacks' office, leaving the set on.

 

DAY FOUR

 

As Second in Command to General George Hammond, in addition to being the most experienced officer stationed at the SGC as far as Middle Eastern terrorism was concerned, Colonel Jack O'Neill's' responsibilities over the next two days were to make certain security measures were in place and functioning above and beyond expectations.

 

All off world teams had been recalled. No one was allowed to leave, or enter. The base was in a state of lock down. Every U.S. military installation through out the world was under the same restrictions. There was a feeling of frustration and anger so thick you could have cut it with a knife and served it up for dinner for months to come. 'This does not happen to the continental United States.' It was a unified thought from coast to coast.

 

DAY FIVE

 

"O'Neill, It is good your President has taken such strong leadership during this tragedy."

 

"You can say that again, Teal'c."

 

"Very well, it is good your Pres..."

 

"Teal'c, Jack didn't mean for you to actually say it again." Daniel smiled slightly as Teal'c once again took Jack's every word literally. "It is a figure of speech...in other words your original statement was extremely accurate. Jack was just agreeing with you."

 

"Aah, yes, a Tauri turn of phrase, I remember now. Thank you DanielJackson. Why do you not just say 'I agree'?"

 

" That's a real good question, Teal'c. I'll look into that." Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel caught Jack smiling and shaking his head. "What?"

 

"What...what?" Jack's brows rose with the look of innocence he desperately tried to display.

 

"You know 'what'."

 

Jack shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I was just thinking... two days ago our biggest worry, was being invaded by a bunch of snake heads. Now, we have a threat right here. Not one we can't overcome, but it's a threat none the less. From where I see it though... it can't be that bad if you still have time to educate Teal'c on colloquialisms of modern English."

 

"Ooo...Jack...BIG word. Of course if you would just speak proper...English...there would be no need to explain anything to Teal'c."

 

"DanielJackson what is a colloquialism?"

 

"A colloqui...."

 

"Aah, aah...not here... not now." Jack's raised hand brought the room to silence. "I am trying to finish these reports, or have you two forgotten. No reports, no leave."

 

"Jack?"

 

"Yes, Daniel."

 

"After what's happened don't you think any leave time would have been...cancelled?"

 

"If we were any other base, yes. However, technically, we do not exist. The 'powers that be' will let Hammond know if any of us are needed. Then he will let us know. Organization Danny-boy, organization." There was no point in telling Daniel what he really thought was on the agenda for all the military services from this point on. Let it unfold a day at a time. Keep it simple. No reason to overly worry their already semi paranoid archeologist.

 

"Oh, right. Not that I... would be needed anyway, it's just...I don't know, I feel like I should be doing something. I mean we have fought and killed numerous Goa'uld...saving Earth in the process by the way.  Not to mention successfully communicating with Lotan and the Gadmere ship as it attempted to terra form an...entire planet. Maybe I could help with negotiations or...."

 

"DanielJackson your President has made it quite clear there will be NO negotiations with those responsible for such a hyenas crime."

 

"Teal'c is right Daniel. There is only one end to this, and it has nothing to do with talking. Oh, and before you get started on one of your soap box tirades about cultural differences, just... DON'T."

 

Daniel looked at his friend with narrowed eyes. "Jack, do you take me for a traitor or something?"

 

"No, Daniel. I just know how...passionate...you can get over cultural differences."

 

"There are no cultural differences... when it comes to murder, Jack."

 

"Glad to hear we agree on something Danny. Now get outta here and let me get back to work!"

 

DAY SIX

 

Jack O'Neill was singing under his breath as he made his way down the hall to General Hammonds' office. "Done, done, da, done, Done, da, done, done, done, done, DONE!"

 

 He couldn't help the feeling of relief and accomplishment that washed over him as he had signed the last page of the last

report. Even after the sad, and surprising events of earlier in the week, Jack was able to get out from under the stack of

reports, that stood between his team and their promised two weeks leave...even if it was postponed indefinitely. He

stopped in front of the Generals' office, paused just long enough to smooth his BDUs, rapped sharply on the door, and

awaited permission to enter.

 

"Come." The generals' muffled voice granted his request.

 

Jack entered at attention and snapped a salute toward the desk. "General, Colonel Jonathan O'Neill reporting reports are completed, sir..."

 

O'Neill's' voice trailed away as he felt the presence of a third person in the room, he whirled on his heel to come face to

face with a four star General, US Army. Jacks' shoulders immediately formed the perfect frame of attention and once again,

the tips of his fingers were level with his right brow in a textbook salute.

 

"My apologies, sir. I was unaware General Hammond had a visitor, sir." Jack waited for his salute to be acknowledged

before thinking of lowering his arm.

 

"At ease, Colonel." The four star returned the salute with just a little less of the snap in the wrist than Jack had managed.

" I'm glad you stopped by, I was just about to have General Hammond here page you."

 

"General Will Owens of the Joint Chiefs, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill. The General is here to assure us of the safety of Major Davis, and other Pentagon staff members associated with the Stargate program." Though the four star was easily fifteen years Jacks' senior, he was in excellent shape. Standing eye to eye with O'Neill's' own six foot two inch frame; the General was

built like a Mac truck. 'I'd bet a month's pay this guy played linebacker for ARMY while at WestPoint.' Jack thought as he took the offered hand in a firm shake.

 

"Yes, sir. It is a pleasure meeting you, sir. Your mission reports were required reading during my days in Special Ops

training. You had a knack for getting the job done and coming away in one piece, I learned a lot from you sir. Thank you

for the good news regarding Major Davis, he's a good man."

 

"Yes, he is Colonel. Do you mind if I call you Jack?"

 

"No, sir not at all."

 

"Have a seat Jack. Compared to what you and your team face every time you step through that 'gate',

my missions were...'A walk in the park'. I can't imagine some of the things you have had to face and still bring your team

back home in one piece."

 

" With all do respect, sir... there is no other option." Jack's jaw tightened slightly at the thought of any member of his team being left behind.

 

"Of course."

 

General Hammond sat silently behind his desk watching the conversation between these two career soldiers. Jack had been surprised to see Will Owens, and not all together thrilled with talking about his own accomplishments in the field. Hammond could see Jack trying to figure out why exactly a four star was sent to deliver a message that could easily have been handled

by phone. He knew there had to be more to this visit. Hammond waited for the other shoe to drop.

 

"Well, let's get down to why I'm really here. Obviously a phone call could have delivered news about Major Davis and company...I'm sure that thought has crossed your mind." General Owens eyes narrowed slightly as he continued his observations of the Air Force officer he had traveled two thousand miles to meet in person.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Hammond breathed a sigh of relief, 'At least Jack isn't playing the role of 'king of sarcasm'...yet.'

 

"As soon as the President gives the word we will be deploying the 101st Air Borne into Afghanistan. Bin Laden and crew will never know what hit them." With the air of a proud father, the four star raised his chin, looking down his nose in Jack's direction.

 

"Yes, sir." The hairs on the back of Jack's neck began to tingle, a sure sign that something unpleasant was just around the next bend.

 

"After that we will be counting on the Rangers to do more than their share. We want our troops to be as prepared as they possibly can be. They have the training and the equipment to do the job. What they need is to meet, in person, the man behind the reports they were required to read. Jack, I'd like you to accompany me to Fort Benning to answer any questions the 'newbies' might have."

 

Hammond watched his second in command carefully, searching for any indication as to how he was going to react.

 

Jack's brown eyes hardened as he realized which reports of his would be of use or interest to Ranger trainees. His gaze never left that of the superior officer. " I'd rather not, sir." Jack's voice was quiet but firm.

 

"I don't want to have to make it an order, Colonel. I know it will be difficult enough as it is."

 

"Ya think? Begging your pardon, sir. I remember you spending some time as a POW yourself. Why don't you go have a little chat with the 'Rangers'?"

 

Hammond winced and shut his eyes tight. 'I knew it couldn't last.' He took a deep breath and prepared himself to defend O'Neill against an insubordination charge.

 

"My imprisonment was in Viet Nam, I was tortured Viet Cong style. These people will be facing the same whack-os that you spent time with."

 

"Torture is torture, SIR. It doesn't really matter what language they're swearing in."

 

General Will Owens was not used to having junior officers address him in such a sarcastic manner, nor was he ever told what to do by anyone other than his fellow chiefs or the President of the United States. "Colonel O'Neill, due to the delicacy of this particular request, I am willing to give you some latitude. But you are walking a very fine line here."

 

"Yeah, I've been told that before." Jack glanced in his CO's direction and acknowledged the imperceptible shake of Hammond's head. He took a deep, subtle, breath. "General Owens, you might as well issue the order... 'cause I do not see myself volunteering for this duty anywhere this side of Netu, sir."

 

"I was told you are nothing, if not abrupt and to the point. I can appreciate that Colonel O'Neill. Though I am surprised by your seemingly lack of patriotism. The fact you are still military after your ordeal would have spoken differently. Very well, Colonel, consider the initial 'invitation' an order. Effective immediately." General Owens held the hard glare coming from the officer opposite him.

 

As far as Hammond was concerned time found a way to slow to a snails pace. He watched his 2IC take the slap on the face without any outwardly perceptible reaction, with the exception of a slight narrowing of the eyes. He could not decide which was more dangerous; the volcanic eruption he knew was just below Jack's surface or the still calm that was currently being portrayed. Jack responded a heartbeat later, rising to attention once more and snapping a salute dripping with military professionalism. "SIR, YES SIR. Permission to speak freely sir?"

 

Hammond's eyes rolled heaven ward. 'Owens', do your self a favor and say NO.'

 

"Permission denied Colonel O'Neill, my Momma didn't raise a fool. You are expected to arrive at Fort Benning, GA in 48 hours. Dismissed." General Owens stood as well, releasing Jack of his salute with one of his own.

 

Without another word, Jack turned smartly on his heel and left his CO's office, pulling the door closed behind him.

 

Major General George Hammond did not hesitate in putting his two stars at risk against the four stars standing in front of him. He hoped his long-term association with the superior officer, and his own exemplary record, would cushion the repercussions of the next few minutes.

 

"General Owens I hope you know what you are asking of this man. Your questioning of his patriotism was way out of line! Do you have any idea how many times Jack O'Neill has put his own life at risk, in order to save this planet from destruction, or enslavement? There is not another officer on this base, or any other for that matter, that could possibly feel more strongly about their duty to God, Country, World and Galaxy, than Jack does." Hammond's round face began to redden with the under lying anger beginning to come forth in his voice.

 

General Owens had worked with George Hammond on several projects in the past. He had a great deal of respect for the rotund Texan. " George, we are going to converse off the record. You do not approve of my reason for being here. I cannot say I am thrilled with it either, but everything you just said concerning O'Neill justifies my need for his cooperation. Those brave soldiers who have chosen to serve in Special Forces deserve to know the risks facing them, AND even after the worse case scenario, there can be a normal rewarding life ahead of them. They have already read the official debrief of, then Major O'Neill's, capture and confinement. Some of them puked when they read details, with accompanying medical photos, of the torture he endured. They deserve to see the man in person and speak with him."

 

"And what about Jack? Does he not deserve some consideration after having endured it?" Hammonds normally rosy complexion deepened a shade or two.

 

"Come on George, are you afraid he's going to crack or something? He's stronger than you think, if he can keep saving the world as you yourself pointed out."

 

"Will, if this is not supposed to be a...big deal, then why don't you be the POW poster child?" Hammond bit his tongue and stubbornly squared his shoulders. He was not at all sure his career would survive the next deluge of vocabulary about to leave his lips. He was saved by General Owens' raised hand for silence.

 

"Bottom line, I will be there, but to these kids I am an old desk jockey, who has been out of front line action too long. Colonel O'Neill on the other hand is in the enemy's back pocket on a daily basis." Owens dropped his hand to his side and stepped forward to retrieve his hat from the rack by the door.

 

Hammond's eyes widened, then narrowed as he spoke in a voice of quiet thunder." You don't mean to tell me you are going to mention the Stargate?"

 

"No, no of course not. It will be made clear though, that Colonel O'Neill is currently assigned to a high level National Security project. This will only add to their understanding that torture is survivable and their nation can trust them to do an excellent job in other classified programs. Have his orders to him by tomorrow morning George."

 

Part Two

 

 Striding toward his quarters. Leaving a wake of cowering Airmen in his path, Jack O'Neill did not hear the voice call to him.

 

"Colonel O'Neill? I said could I have a word with you." Dr. Janet Fraiser was trying to keep up with the long legged determined, royally hacked off colonel. It finally registered, some one was following him, and as he came to an abrupt stop, Fraiser bumped into the now stationary object of her pursuit.

 

"Ooops, Sorry Colonel."

 

"No problem Doc, what do you want?" The words were a little harsher than he meant.

 

"General Hammond asked me to give you a once over before you left for Fort Benninng. I was wondering if we could take care of it now. Cass is having a few friends over and I promised not to be late if at all possible...." The look Jack gave her was one Janet had not seen before and hoped she would never see again. "Is everything alright, sir?"

 

"He knew...he KNEW, and he didn't warn me. HA, that's rich!" With that, Jack resumed his journey to his quarters. A very confused Dr. Fraiser in tow.

 

"Uhh, Colonel, who knew what?"

 

"Hammond. He knew why Owens was here. Knew what that pompous belly crawler was going to ask me, NO order me to do...you think you know someone, work with them everyday, lay your life on the line for them...follow them...trust them. HA!" O'Neill had begun to pace in circles, his hands talking almost as fast as his feet were moving.

 

"Colonel, it is obvious you are very upset. What has happened? Why are you so agitated with the General?" Fraiser knew Jack O'Neill could exaggerate with the best of them when he wanted to; she just had to figure out what was really going on.

 

"WHAT! Why shouldn't I be agitated? Don't pretend innocence Janet... no offence but it's a bit of a stretch for you. If, Hammond asked you to 'check me out', you must have been in on this too." Hands suddenly crammed into his pockets, Jack spun around to face Janet Fraiser and with a cold stare expected her to deny her own involvement in this conspiracy against his privacy.

 

"I have known you for more than four years Jack O'Neill and I have never lied to you, I certainly do not intend to start now...I have no clue what is going on between you and Hammond, and have not met anyone today by the name of Owens." The petite doctor stood with her arms folded across her white lab coat, daring the tall superior officer to doubt her word.

 

"Oh...sorry." The wind had gone out of Jack's sails, but only slightly. He raked one hand through his graying hair and down to the back of his aching neck, he wondered absently when this killer headache had taken up residence. 

 

Dr. Fraiser never liked it when the people she was medically responsible for were not one hundred percent in body, mind, or soul. She especially did not like seeing Colonel Jack O'Neill off balance like he was now. "Colonel, what is going on that has you so worked up?" Her calm, to the point professional, voice finally got through to Jack. He took a deep cleansing breath. With a wave of his arm, he indicated, 'follow me', and began walking toward the infirmary. Janet got the hint and knew once they were in the privacy of her office the truth would be told.

 

They walked in silence, only acknowledging other SGC personnel with a nod of their heads, releasing lower ranking Airmen from their courtesy salutes. Arriving at Janet's office, Jack opened the door for her and then followed inside, pulling the door shut in one fluid motion. Janet had been taking mental notes during their relatively short walk. 'Good sign, body signals not quite as abrupt, breathing steadier, carotid artery pulse calmer.' She did not hesitate bringing up the topic, curious to see how severely he would react. "Now, Colonel, how about telling me what is going on?"

 

"General Owens, from the Joint Chiefs', is here to ask me to be his 'show and tell' project for "Ranger Day" at Fort Benning." Jack flopped down in a chair by the desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb, hoping to erase the now growing headache out of existence.

 

"Sir, could you run that by me again... Ranger Day? I missed today's cryptic message class." Doc Fraiser could hold her own with O'Neill when it came to sarcasm. He gave her a tired look of 'ha, ha, NOT funny' then proceeded to explain what his current orders were. He was the one to be surprised next by the look in the Doc's eyes and the tone of her voice.

 

"Why that... that... he has no right getting into your medical files Colonel, it's a breach of Doctor/Patient confidentiality." Janet was furious. She was a professional through and through. The thought that other 'professionals' were blatantly abusing oaths that were designed to protect patients rights, did not sit well with her at all. The guarded look on Jack's face did not betray his thoughts. He had taken advantage of Janet's private office to regroup and put into perspective the events of the past hour.

 

He shook his head as Janet mentioned his rights as a patient. "Doc, we both know normally I would have a leg to stand on, unfortunately this is the military and my experience in Iraq has been classified under 'National Security'. There are no rules, except those that help the DOD defend the nation and the military from harm or incursion." Jack paused to rub both eyes before continuing. "Apparently part of Ranger training includes Torture 101, text to include debrief reports of POW's...whether they like it or not."

 

"Sir, on a scale of one to ten; how bad is that headache you are nursing?" The doctor in Janet couldn't ignore his obvious pain any longer.

 

"What headache?"

 

"Sir."

 

"About a seven... I guess."

 

'So, that makes it more like a thirteen on a normal scale.' Doc Fraiser knew this particular patient well. His pain tolerance was extremely high, probably due to, or the reason for his successful return from the four months of torture while being held captive in Iraq. "Here take these...NO argument Colonel."

 

"You know, I really hate it when you order me around." Jack pulled a face to emphasize his comment.

 

"Yes I know. Would you rather have the headache? I can arrange for a bigger one to move in if you like." Dr. Fraiser was use to sparring with the Colonel when it came to medications. She almost, always won.

 

"Ok, ok. I suppose things might look a little less bleak if my head wasn't full of a Moroccan band. So... let's get this exam over with. You don't want to keep Cassie waiting. Where do you want me." Jack looked over his shoulder, through Janet's office window toward the infirmary beds, guessing which empty slot he should wander over to.

 

"There's no need for an exam Colonel, I did a full work up last week after your return from your last mission. You haven't been off world since. In fact, you have hardly been off the base. As long as you haven't encountered any contagion, cold, flu... chicken pox, you should be just fine, except, for that headache...and that will get better."

 

"Yea, as soon as a certain four star gets off my back." Jack was able to give a lopsided grin and a wink to a relieved doctor. "Thanks Doc."

 

"Anytime Colonel, anytime." Janet smiled and jotted down a few notes on the pad she had quietly begun to write on.

 

"Oh, Doc?" O'Neill paused at the door.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Make sure a copy of those notes you've been taking get into my file, would you? I have a collection you know." With that he opened the office door and sauntered down the hall leaving Dr. Fraiser shaking her head and smiling, grateful to see Jack was back, for now.

 

She finished her notes then went to see General Hammond. There were some recommendations she had in response to the hour she had spent with the General's second in command...if he wanted him back in one piece that is.

 

 

 

 

Part Three

 

The next morning, after a restless night, Jack arrived in Hammond's office to pickup his traveling orders. He knew he would be catching a military transport to Fort Benning. It was not only cost effective for military personnel to travel between duty stations using military planes, but the civilian airports nationwide were still closed. At least reporting to Benning wouldn't be a hassle travel wise. Being home to the Ranger Training Brigade and Airborne School meant there was an airfield located on post. Kind' a convenient, with any luck he would be back home with in a couple of days.

 

Hammond's secretary motioned to Jack to take a seat. "General Hammond will be right with you Colonel, he is just finishing a phone call." The middle aged civilian woman, who had been Hammond's personal secretary for more years than either one of them could remember, gave Jack O'Neill a warm smile. "Thanks Claire." He responded absently then sat down in the chair just outside the general's door.

 

"Can I get you a cup of coffee, Colonel O'Neill?" Claire Jones looked cautiously in his direction. Her boss had warned her the Colonel would be in first thing this morning and might not be in the best of moods. That usually meant anyone found in his path qualified for hazard pay. Something was different this morning. He seemed far too distracted to notice anyone else. "Colonel?"

 

"Umm?"

 

"Coffee?"

 

"Uhh...no, no thanks." He had picked up a pencil from Claire's desk and was balancing the point on the tip of his finger. Remaining focused on this long ago acquired skill; Jack did not seem to hear the door open beside him.

 

General Hammond quietly watched his 2IC, a tight smile appearing on his face. "Not bad Colonel, planning on joining the circus?"

 

"I thought I already had, sir." Jack tossed the pencil straight up and Hammond caught it smoothly.

"No offense intended, General." O'Neill stood at attention.

 

"None taken, come on in Jack." Hammond followed the tall Colonel into his office. He turned a raised eyebrow in his secretary's direction, "Hold my calls Claire."

 

"Yes, General." With a nod of 'Thanks' Hammond closed the door. He covered the distance between the door and his desk in three long strides while motioning to his uncharacteristically quiet, second to be seated. " Jack, you don't appear to have slept much last night."

 

"Not much, sir."

 

Hammond felt his blood begin to boil, again. He was still furious with General Owens for questioning Jack's loyalty; he couldn't imagine how O'Neill must be feeling. "Jack I can't say I blame you for being angry with me." The Colonel's head snapped up as if just realizing his CO had become a mind reader. Hammond raised his hand to stop the unspoken comment. "Dr. Fraiser came to see me yesterday, believe me I had an ear full from her. For such a little lady she can sure deliver." He paused trying to read his Colonel before continuing. "I had about four hours lead time, before Owens arrived. I admit I knew the purpose of his visit...and hoping to forestall an insubordination charge against you, chose not to brief you ahead of time. Had you known why he was here...I doubt you would have been quite so civil." 

 

Jack shook his head in denial. "Oh I would have been civil sir...I just wouldn't have been on the planet." His voice was level and Hammond had no doubt O'Neill was speaking the truth.

 

The General looked hard at the man sitting across from him. He would trust his life to Colonel Jack O'Neill at anytime, anywhere. "Jack, I apologize for General Owens remarks yesterday, they were uncalled for and far off the mark. For the record, in my opinion Will Owens has forgotten the worth of a good soldier. After you left this office, I took the opportunity to remind him. I regret to inform you I was unable to persuade him to rethink your involvement in this operation. I made a couple of phone calls though and have seen to it that your travel orders include some 'perks' for your time and service to your country. I know it doesn't change anything you have already been through, but I hope it will take some of the tension out of this trip."

 

"You didn't have to do that General...but I appreciate it." Jack took the manila envelope from his CO and turned it over in his hands twice before opening it. Orders were straight forward and to the point. Report...Fort Benning, GA...16Sept01...1700hrs...CHQ. As was expected, Jack was to depart Peterson AFB in Colorado Springs. He would be given details as to which aircraft he would be assigned once he arrived. "Reserve seating instead of stand by? Nice."

 

General Hammond smiled. "Perk number one, Robins AFB has requested a squad of F16s. Peterson happens to have a couple of aircraft that will be part of the squad. If you are interested, you can ferry one out to Benning. Robins will send a pilot to pick it up." Not surprising to Hammond, Jack quietly nodded his head in agreement.

 

"Thank you, sir. I believe I will take you up on that. Too much wormhole travel...don't have the patience for stand by anymore." Jack continued to look through his orders. There was another, smaller, envelope. He opened it and withdrew its' contents. Looking across the desk, he caught Hammonds eye. "What's this?" He asked as he held up the plastic rectangle.

 

"Perk number two, open end expense account. No questions asked. Take advantage of it son, you deserve it." The General could see the hesitation in Jack's eyes. He added "That's an order."

 

"Sweet...Uhh yes sir, thank you sir. Is there anything else General?" Jack's voice had a certain pessimistic tone to it.

 

"One more thing Colonel. Based on Doctor Fraiser's recommendation I am sending another member of the SGC along for the ride." As expected, this was not well received.

 

O'Neill's eyes grew cold. "That won't be necessary sir. I don't plan on going AWOL."

 

"Thought never crossed my mind, Colonel." Hammond matched his second's gaze without hesitation. "Doctor Fraiser is concerned you may need a friendly face nearby, I happen to agree with her, so let's skip the efforts to change my mind shall we?" To his credit, Jack took the hint and simply nodded in acceptance, or was it defeat? "As you know, Teal'c gated to the Land of Light this morning to be with his family, and Dr. Jackson was called to the Pentagon two nights ago to help with translations." Hammond's intercom buzzed, he reached for the receiver. "Excuse me Colonel...Hammond."

 

'So, thought Jack, that's where the space monkey disappeared to.'

 

"Thank you Claire, send the Major in." As Hammond replaced the receiver back in its cradle, there was a firm knock on the door. "Come." The door opened and Major Carter walked in.

 

"Reporting as ordered, sir." Sam Carter saluted the SGC commander, and receiving acknowledgement turned to her immediate CO. "Good morning, Colonel. Nice weather for flying."

 

Jack stood with hands in his pockets, a smile finding a home on his face. 'Perk number three?' The thought, fortunately, remained...a thought. "Major, weren't you going to visit your brother?"

 

"Plans have been changed sir...Mark understands. He really wasn't expecting to see me after what happened." Sam tried to look at ease, matter of fact, calm. What she felt was a bit nervous. Hammond and Dr. Fraiser had briefed her the night before on Colonel O'Neill's orders from General Owens, and what her purpose in accompanying him was. She was to be Janet's eyes and ears, as well as a check valve for O'Neill, to let off steam if need be.

 

"Major here are your traveling orders. When the two of you are ready to head for Peterson let Claire know. She will arrange for a driver." He was watching Jack for any sign that he was going to object to Major Carter 'tagging' along...so far...so good.

 

"Now...that really won't be necessary, General. We can find our way to the other side of Colorado Springs. Can't we, Major?" His eyes had not left her from the moment she had entered the room.

 

She looked up from the papers she had been studying to meet his gaze. She couldn't quite read what was there. "Yes, sir I'm pretty sure we can handle that."

 

General Hammond debated issuing another order, but decided his 2IC was merely trying to grasp some control over this run away train he had been thrown aboard. "Very well, Colonel. Call me if you are in need of anything. Dismissed." 

 

"Thank you, sir."

 

Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter made their way through the halls of the SGC toward their respective quarters. "So, Carter."

 

"Yes sir?" They continued walking as they spoke.

 

"Did Hammond cancel your leave just so you could keep an eye on me...or make sure I didn't go AWOL?" O'Neill stopped in front of his Major's door.

 

"Actually...sir...the General didn't cancel my leave, nor did he order me to accompany you." Carter looked slightly embarrassed at her confession. "I over heard Janet talking to the General and volunteered to keep you company."

 

"Liar."

 

"Excuse me sir?" She simply stared at her CO.

 

 "Fraiser isn't careless enough to allow her conversations with Hammond to be overheard, I know...I've tried. Besides, you couldn't wait to get away to San Diego and visit your niece and nephew." Jack rocked back and forth on his heels, hands deep in his pockets, waiting for his 2IC to come up with a better story.

 

"Colonel...I did volunteer sir, as soon as General Hammond told me where you were going and why."

 

"So...they are sending you to keep an eye on me." His dark brown eyes grew a shade darker. He had not been thrilled about this whole situation from the beginning but in his mind, it just got worse. No way did he want to expose Carter to the fallout that could potentially occur from a few days of deliberately reliving his own private hell on earth.

 

Sam looked at her superior officer and friend, seeing the concern in his eyes, or was it anger? Was he angry with her for agreeing with Dr. Fraiser and Hammond, or was he afraid she would witness a chink in his armor. She lifted her chin slightly and drew herself to attention. "Yes sir...with...or without...your permission... sir."

 

Realizing he had no hope this side of PX5...whatever of convincing her to go visit her brother instead, he took a deep breath and softly uttered; "Thank you Major. Can you be ready in thirty minutes? I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."

 

Carter visibly relaxed. She smiled as she answered him. "Already packed, sir."

 

Part Four

 

Upon arrival at Peterson AFB Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter were each assigned an F16 to ferry out to Fort Benning. Other than their annual qualifying hours, it had been a while since either one of them had flown the jets, but they were both expert F16 pilots. They were on full combat alert as they crossed the country. Patrolling the skies for any further trouble.

 

Jack found the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts gratifying. There was something about soaring through the clouds, it was inspiring and humbling at the same time. Of course, it wasn't any where near as awe inspiring as 'gate travel', though it used to be. 'Funny how perspective can change.' Jack thought. "Fox three, one-niner, this is 'Blue Eagle one-niner'. Do you read? Over." As Jack radioed Carter, he looked over his right shoulder to find her in position just off his wing.

 

His radio crackled back, "Roger that Blue Eagle, loud and clear. Fox three, one-niner, over."

 

"Fox three, one-niner, how about we try a few drills before we have to give the keys back. Blue Eagle over." Jack didn't know when he would get another chance to fly, not to mention being able to check out Sam Carter's skills. He knew she had logged quite a few hours during the Gulf War, and was extremely competent.

 

"Roger Blue Eagle, sounds great. Fox Three over."

 

"Roger Fox Three, stay on my wing. Blue Eagle out." With the final transmission meaning, 'radio quiet until end of drill', Jack sent the non-verbal message 'TRUST ME', to his Second in Command. Jack rolled his craft to the left and dove toward the deck. Carter was a fraction of a second behind, shadowing his every move.

 

Sam Carter had not had such an intoxicating, and taxing drill since her last mission over Iraq. Not counting of course the numerous times she and her teammates had out run Jaffa, grappled with Goa'uld system Lords, or negotiated with numerous alien cultures since being assigned to SG-1.

 

There was something about dancing through the skies of her own home world, with her more than capable CO leading the way, that brought an overwhelming feeling of pride and satisfaction for having chosen a career in the military. It also brought to the surface feelings of anger for what her country was currently facing. She had lost count how many times in the last week she had asked herself the question, 'How and Why? If people only knew the threat that literally sits at our galactic window...'

 

"FOX THREE, Hello Carter, you're dead. Care to explain where your mind wondered off too? Blue Eagle, over." Suddenly 'Blue Eagle' was on her tail lining her up in his sights.

 

'Holy Hannah! How did he do that?' "Uhh...Blue Eagle, I have no explanation, sir. How did you do that? I swear I did not take my eyes off you for a second...sir. Fox Three, over." As the radio frequency flipped back to her CO, she could hear him laughing.

 

"...Well, well, well, don't tell me. Have I finally done something way smarter than Carter? Now that is one for the books. Actually...it is a fairly, old, yet apparently still effective, maneuver. We have about thirty minutes left in flight time to Benning. We can go over it a couple of times, if you think an old dog can teach you a new trick. Blue Eagle, over."

 

Her CO had flown his jet to position himself off her left wing. It was hard to see facial expressions but she could picture the familiar grin that must be lying underneath the oxygen mask. "Blue Eagle, that would be great sir. I concede the way smarter part, but sir...my dad isn't even OLD yet, so you certainly aren't. Fox Three over."

 

"Fox Three, flattery will get you anywhere. Heads up. Blue Eagle over." O'Neill spent the next ten minutes showing Carter the maneuver he had successfully used more times than he could remember. The Major was a quick study, not that that was a surprise, what intrigued O'Neill was her ability to take the maneuver and tweak it slightly, gaining another ten second jump on him, as he became the mouse. At these speeds ten seconds was an eternity. 'Oh yeah, she's good, very good.' "Fox Three, one-niner, nicely done Carter. You realize you are now privy to a Jack O'Neill original. Guard it well, Major. See you on the deck. Blue Eagle, out." Colonel O'Neill snapped a salute toward his second and peeled off to his right, dropping down and under Fox Three, allowing Sam the honor of taking point and becoming her wing man as a sign of trust and respect, rewarding her for a job well done. The two F16s flew in tight formation, and radio silence, during the remaining ten minutes to Fort Benning.

 

They lightly landed their aircraft, without incident. After relinquishing custody of the F16s to the pilots from Robins AFB, O'Neill and Carter were shown the way to the locker rooms. They changed out of their 'G' suits, and into their dress blues.

 

Amongst the, Army green, their Air Force blues made them stick out like Blue Jays, in a pine forest. Then again, rank was rank, no matter what the branch of Service. As Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter reported to Command Head Quarters, they were greeted with the respect that went along with their individual ranks. The young Specialist 4, (equivalent pay scale of a Senior Airman) in charge of the information desk, greeted O'Neill and Carter with a smart salute and a friendly, smile. "Good afternoon Sir, Ma'am. Welcome to Fort Benning." He waited for the salute to be returned before continuing. "Specialist Wagner at your service, how may I assist you?"

 

"Well...Specialist Wagner, you could point us in the direction of General Owens office. Name's Colonel Jack O'Neill, I have orders to report no later than 1700 hrs tomorrow." The young, sandy haired man looked as if he were about to state the obvious. O'Neill cut in. "I know...I like to be early." He gave the Spec 4 a grin that belied the frustration and fatigue he was feeling.

 

"Yes sir, actually sir, General Owens is in Washington until noon tomorrow."

 

"Great." 'So much for getting it over with...'He grimaced at the thought of spending days here, as opposed to hours.

 

"Sir, if I could please verify you are who you say you are...no disrespect intended, sir."

 

"No problem, Wagner. You are just doing your job. Better to err on the side of caution, considering." Jack had been pulling out his I.D. and packet of orders as he spoke to the young soldier.

 

"Yes sir, thank you sir." Major Carter had her I.D. confirmed also as the pleasant, young Spec 4 quickly read and stamped both sets of orders. "Sir, if you will sign here, Ma'am, also here please." 'Yeah, sign what's left of your life away, O'Neill.' Jack was beginning to lose his grip on self-control. He held the pen so tightly in his hand that his knuckles turned white.

 

Carter deliberately, and inconspicuously touched the top of his hand as he passed the pen to her. He looked at her as if his hand had touched fire. The smile that greeted him was one of understanding and calm. He nodded slightly and took a deep, subtle breath. 'Ok, he thought, I'm going to make it, as long as Carter can pull me back every now and then, I'll be fine.' Carter was handing the pen back to Wagner. He was saying something about officers' quarters?

 

"Excuse me, would you repeat that please?"

 

"Yes sir, there are rooms reserved for you and the Major in the officers' quarters. I'll get someone to show you the way."

 

"That won't be necessary son, we already have rooms in town. What we are in need of is a vehicle, or a driver." Jack waited for what he knew would come next.

 

The young desk jockey looked up after reading their orders again, concerned he had missed something. "Sir, I'm afraid I can't authorize anything not included in General Owens' orders."

 

"Of course not...stars speak louder than eagles, right?" Colonel O'Neill was career military, he knew very well how the wheels turn and in which order they had to spin.

 

"Yes sir, sorry sir."

 

"Oh, don't worry about it Specialist. Just give General Owens a call and ask him to amend the orders."

 

"As I said sir, the general is in Washington..."

 

"Got that...do you need the number? Major Carter will look it up for you, won't you, Major?" Jack innocently gazed toward his Major and smiled.

 

Carter barely contained her composure, "Yes, sir I'd be happy to do that, sir."

 

"Uhh...sir, ma'am, I do have the general's pager number. He is probably in a meeting with the joint chiefs, possibly the president, himself. I'm sure he would appreciate not being disturbed, sir." Specialist Wagner made the unwise assumption that the subject was closed. He turned away from the Air Force officers, intent on completing instructions to the Pvt. First Class who was to be their escort to their respective quarters.

 

The steel edge to O'Neill's voice caused him to freeze in mid-sentence and turn once again to the two officers in blue. "Perhaps, but last time I checked silver eagles scream louder than...embroidered yellow ones." Colonel O'Neill looked pointedly at the patch on the sleeve of the Spec 4's Class A's. It resembled an upside down, green Hershey Kiss, with a yellow eagle embroidered in the center. "I'll tell you what Wagner, The Major and I are starving, how about our escort takes us to the officer's club instead. We can grab a late lunch while you contact the General."

 

Spec 4 Wagner seemed to be weighing his options, should he incur the wrath of his Boss, knowing from experience how loud and long the lecture will be, or did he dare venture into the unknown and except whatever criticism may come from the dark eyed colonel.

 

Sam Carter had remained motionless except for the slight upturn in the corners of her mouth. She had seen her CO go up against some of the nastiest creatures in the universe and come out victorious. No way, a mere Spec 4 in the Army had a chance of a prayer in this duel of words.

 

An ever so slight narrowing of Jack's eyes helped finalize the decision. "Yes sir, Private Clement will escort you and Major Carter to the dining hall. I will do my best to rectify any misunderstanding, sir." The General's assistant was relieved to see a relaxed smile appear on the Colonel's face. He offered a salute and waited for its' acknowledgement.

 

"Thank you, Wagner. Knew I could count on you to do your best." Jack's smile remained as he returned the enlisted man's salute. Then turning to his 2IC, "Major, shall we?"

 

"Yes sir." Dutifully Major Carter had kept a straight face and responded with the utmost professionalism. Privately she was celebrating the direct hit Colonel O'Neill had landed. She had sensed the attitude of the soldiers toward the Air Force blue, a feeling of 'Afraid to look the enemy in the eye so you drop bombs from a plane, Momma Flyboys', (she was familiar with the phrase, and the attitude, having been raised the daughter of an Air Force General). All within ear shot had heard and listened, and dropped the attitude fast giving a wide berth to this particular 'Flyboy.'

 

They made their way to the Officers Mess where they enjoyed a hearty lunch of grilled steak with all the trimmings. As Jack was deciding, whether he had room for desert Spec 4 Wagner arrived at their table.

 

"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, sir, ma'am. My apologies for any inconvenience you may have been caused, sir. I spoke with General Owens; he asked I pass on his appreciation of your prompt arrival. Here are keys to a rental car from town, compliments of General Owens, sir. The General has asked if you and the Major will dine with him tomorrow evening? If there is anything you need sir, do not hesitate to contact myself, or the aid on duty sir. We are at your disposal." Specialist 4 Wagner came to attention again and awaited orders.

 

"Thank you, Specialist, I appreciate your prompt attention to the details of our visit. As soon as we our settled, in town I'll let you know how to reach us. Dismissed." Jack took the keys and decided dessert could wait. "Major Carter? If you are finished mutilating that salad of yours', we can find some dessert in town. Let's go, I need to get out of this 'monkey suit'."

 

Sam knew how much the Colonel hated having to wear Class A's, she didn't care for it much herself. "Sure, sir I'm right behind you. Did Wagner happen to describe the car, sir?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Won't that be a problem sir? Finding the right vehicle I mean."

 

"Nope."

 

"How so sir?"

 

"Watch." was all he would say. Sam looked at him, unable to understand how he could know which car was meant for their use. It was made clear as soon as they stepped outside the Club. There were three enlisted men polishing a dark blue Ford Thunderbird. As they approached the vehicle, all three men in unison came to attention and snapped smart salutes. Jack returned the gesture, and allowed the passenger door to be opened. Another of the attendants opened the driver's door for Major Carter.

 

"How did you know sir?" Carter queried as she accepted the keys from her CO.

 

"Not hard Carter, someone as smart as you ought to be able to figure out how a bunch of wet behind the ears, green at the gills army grunts, would choose a car for two vastly superior Air Force officers to drive." Jack was looking at his major as she pulled out of the parking lot and proceeded to the front gates. He could see her struggling to find the answer. "Come on Carter. Blue, for Air Force, 'T-bird' for the flyboys. This isn't rocket science here."

 

Carter blushed slightly at the simplicity of the connection. "I guess I might be dumb enough to help the Asgard, but not quite up to deciphering the Army mind..." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Colonel look at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. She stumbled to apologize. "Oh...Sir, I...I didn't mean to imply..."

 

"Forget it Carter." O'Neill smiled as he received the reaction he was looking for. "Not everyone can be as smart as you are." He saw her relax again and felt a wave of gratitude flow over him. 'Glad she came along, teasing her helps keep my mind off things.'

 

"So, sir, which hotel are we registered with?"

 

"Were not, at least not yet."

 

"But I thought you said we had rooms in town?"

 

"We do, we just don't know where...exactly."

 

"Okay, so Motel Six or The Lazy Eight, there's one of each coming up, sir."

 

"Neither, head downtown, Columbus isn't a big city compared to some but they do have a Hilton."

 

"Sir?"

 

"Yes, Carter."

 

"Nothing, sir."

 

"Right."

 

As Sam pulled into the drive, and parked the car in front of The Hilton Columbus Hotel, she thought about questioning her CO's choice in accommodations. To her knowledge, the military was not accustomed to issuing four-star hotels as barracks, even for visiting officers. She wondered if this was part of what Janet had warned her about. Both Dr. Fraiser, and General Hammond had suggested the colonel's behavior patterns could change due to the stress of this assignment. She was told not to interfere unless the situation appeared to be heading out of control. Her job was to observe and handle fallout. 'You mean damage control don't you, sir?' Hammond's answer came without hesitation. 'Yes, major that is exactly what I mean.' As the valet opened her door, Carter's thoughts were brought back to the present.

 

They were lucky to be able to get a couple of rooms. There were four conventions at the busy hotel. Colonel O'Neill was waiting by the elevator checking his wristwatch. "Come on Carter, there's a hockey game on in twenty minutes. It would be nice to have access to a T.V. set before the end of the game."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Their rooms were on the same floor, but at opposite ends of the hall from one another. Sam was not sure this was such a good arrangement. Janet had mentioned there could be night terrors involved with Post-traumatic Stress Syndrome, the very reason she had insisted Jack not journey to Georgia alone. If the Colonel were to have a full-blown episode, Sam would be too far away to be aware of it and unable to be of help, if he needed her. Janet had gone over several scenarios with her and told her what signs to watch for. Carter decided her only option at this point was to make sure she was alert to his moods and manners. She was also certain the Colonel would not appreciate being on her stake out list. Challenge number one, sticking close to her CO, without looking like she was sticking close to her CO.

 

O'Neill, being the gentleman he truly was, made sure his second in command had her door unlocked before turning to head toward his own room. 'Hockey, hockey will keep him busy. Shouldn't be any problems tonight.' Sam's mind was going ninety trying to find an excuse to spend more of the evening in the same room with the Colonel. After four years of working together almost everyday, Sam felt confident in knowing her CO's moods and how to steer them in a positive direction. Before entering her room, she called out to him. "Hockey sounds great, sir. I've missed the last couple of games. Who's where in the play offs?"

 

Jack froze in mid-stride, turning back to his 2IC his eyes narrowed as he contemplated his response to her question. "Carter have you been holding out on me? I thought hockey was one of your least favorite spectator sports?"

 

"Well sir, I must admit I would rather be on the ice smacking the puck, not to mention my opponent 'up-side the head', sir." Sam's sweet innocent smile did little to hide the sarcasm lacing her voice. Jack shook his head and with his most authoritative command voice stated firmly; "Major Carter, there is a reason I am the one in charge of sarcasm here. You follow?"

 

"Anywhere, anytime, sir." Carter deadpanned in perfect timing.

 

"Good, I'll hold you to that Major." Jack started to turn and head toward his room again.

 

"So... sir? Mind if I come by and watch the game with you? We could order pizza."

 

"Major, I wouldn't dream of forcing you to sit through a hockey game just so you can keep an eye on me for good ole' Doc Fraiser." He saw his major was just about to object, he held up his hand to stop her. "Aah...Sam, everything is all right...really. I'm gonna watch the game and then go to sleep." He could see she still wasn't convinced. "I promise." His right fore finger traced a big 'X' across his heart.

 

"Yes sir, goodnight, sir."

 

"Oh...Carter, as much as I hate the thought of being accessible, I guess we need to let Benning know how to reach us. Call Specialist Wagner; just give him your cell number ok? Thanks."

 

"Of course sir."

 

 

Part Five

 

 

0530 hours. "Hey, Carter...rise and shine. Ya think we're on vacation or somethin'?" The Colonel's voice accompanied the loud knock Carter was hearing on her door. "Come on Carter, there's four conventions in this Hotel. You think there will be any Fruit Loops left if we wait much longer?"

 

Sam opened her door. " I thought you had sworn off Fruit Loops sir?" She stood wrapped in the plush robe provided by the hotel. Her hair was still damp from her morning shower.

 

"Yeah, I did...figured it was time to be daring again. Nice look for you Carter. I thought we could check out some of the local sites since we have some time to kill." Jack was leaning casually against the doorframe, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, hands deep in his pockets, leather jacket draped over his wrist. "I'll meet you down in the restaurant, fifteen minutes enough time?"

 

"Yes sir, I can be ready by then. Save me some 'Loops'." Sam started to close the door. She stopped as she heard the Colonel quietly answer.

 

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, I'll always save a 'Loop' for you." There was that smile again. Jack O'Neill turned toward the elevator and waved. "See you downstairs, Carter." The Major renewed her vow to someday find out what had been behind that smile of his. She didn't waste any time getting dressed.

 

After a hearty breakfast, in which by common consent not a single Fruit Loop had been invited, O'Neill and Carter wandered out of the hotel and down to the nearby RiverWalk.

 

Temperatures were a little on the cool side, making Sam grateful she had brought her own jacket along. The Chattahoochee River divided the city of Columbus in half. It had been the focal point of the original town. With the historical district dating back to the seventeen hundreds, there was plenty to see for any convention attendee, or history buff.

 

They watched and listened as the city woke up welcoming its inhabitants into another day.

 

"So...Carter, how much did Fraiser tell you."

 

"About what sir?"

 

"Come on Carter. Obviously Hammond or Fraiser filled you in on this assignment." Jack had stopped walking and turned to look at his second in command, and friend.

 

Sam's eyes went wide and she shrugged her shoulders. "Actually sir, they didn't tell me much at all, other than Janet going over some PTSD symptoms. "

 

"PTSD?"

 

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

 

"Oh...yeah...that. Does that explain why you were camped in front of my hotel room past midnight last night?" The rising sun urged Jack to slip on his ever-present shades.

 

"You knew?"

 

"Yeah, Carter I knew. You could use a little 'stealth' practice."

 

"Yes, sir. I was...concerned...sir."

 

"Why?"

 

"Janet said one of the classic PTSD symptoms is change in routine, or personality. You seemed a little nervous when we reported to Benning. And you are usually happy to have someone watch a hockey game with you...sir." Carter saw the warmth leave the Colonel's face to be replaced by a mask, unreadable.

 

"I hadn't realized I had become so predictable." Jack uttered in a low tone full of sarcasm.

 

"No, sir. It is not so much your predictability as it is your reliability. I'm concerned about anything that might upset that, sir."

 

Jack started walking again. Sam fell in step. "Carter, I'm going to make a prediction...you can rely on something in the next twenty four hours 'upsetting' me."

 

"Colonel, does this assignment have anything to do with the nine days in Iran you told me about?" Carter remembered their conversation while setting the colonel's broken leg four years ago.

 

"No, Carter. This has to do with the four months I was a POW in an Iraqi prison...and the available entertainment." He kicked an unsuspecting pebble fifty feet down the path.

 

"Entertainment, sir?"

 

"Yeah...one hundred and one ways to make Major O'Neill scream. ' Course...they were looking for a little more than four letter words being divulged... but hey, whatta ya gonna do." Jack involuntarily shuddered remembering in detail some of the worst moments of Iraqi hospitality.

 

Carter had not missed the physical reaction her CO experienced while explaining the purpose of his visit to Fort Benning. 'Wow, what kind of reaction is he going to have after a bunch of green Rangers start grilling him about his confinement.' Any further thought on the subject was interrupted by Carter's phone ringing. O'Neill stopped again, the hairs on the back of his neck rising with escalating tension.

 

"Hello, Major Carter here. Yes...yes, I will tell him. Thank you Specialist Wagner." Sam's gaze had locked with Jack's the minute the phone had rung. "Sir, General Owens returned from Washington late last night. He would like you to report for a briefing at 0900. He has bumped your Q&A ahead twenty four hours."

 

"Ah, for crying out loud..."

 

 

Dressed once more in Class A's O'Neill and Carter drove back toward Fort Benning. "You know what Carter?" Jack's voice was quiet and almost distant.

 

"What, sir?"

 

"I'd rather be 'chutin' into Afghanistan, than face this Q&A."

 

"Yes sir, I know. If there is anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate sir." Her hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

 

Jack turned his head to look at Sam's profile. "Just send me one of those killer smiles of yours' now and then, ok?"

 

Sam Carter blushed but kept her eyes on the road. "I think I can handle that, sir."

 

"Thanks."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

The rest of the twenty-minute drive to Fort Benning was traveled in silence. At the front gate, the guard was expecting them and, after verifying their I.D., admitted them onto the post. Major Carter pulled up to Command Headquarters and parked the blue T-Bird next to a line of non-descript green sedans. "Try to remember where we parked Major." O'Neill uttered with a discrete wink in Carter's direction.

 

"Yes, sir." Carter smiled at her CO's humor. It was a good sign. He was doing ok.

 

After meeting briefly with General Owens, O'Neill was introduced to the Command Sergeant Major in charge of the new Ranger trainees. "CSM Gibbons at your service, sir. It is an honor to meet you Colonel O'Neill."

 

O'Neill returned the salute, and accepted the compliment. "Thank you Sergeant Major. I'm not sure why I'm here though. I doubt an old 'Flyboy' can pass on anything worthwhile to a fresh batch of Army Rangers."

 

"You might be surprised Colonel."

 

"Really?"

 

Carter bit her lip at the amount of sarcasm that could drip off one of her CO's 'really's'. It was so subtle, yet to the trained ear, so scathing.

 

"Uhh, this is Major Carter, my second." O'Neill was suppressing a grin of his own.

 

"Yes, ma'am. Nice to meet you ma'am. Colonel if we could proceed sir, I have the first squad waiting to meet you, sir."

 

"You do mean the First Squad, not the...first...squad, don't you Sergeant Major?" O'Neill looked hopefully in the sergeant's direction.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Exactly how many Q&A meet and greets am I in for Gibbons?"

 

"We currently have twelve squads in training, sir. General Owens felt it would be more beneficial to the men if each squad had some personal time with you, sir."

 

"Now...you see...there's where the General and I don't exactly see eye to eye. In fact...we could not possibly disagree more." Jack could feel himself begin to panic, I'm not sure I can go through with this once and they want me to throw myself to the wolves twelve separate times! Carter, look at Carter...' He turned to his Major to find her ready with a smile, anticipating his need. 'Yep, she's good.' With a deep breath, Jack once more turned to the Sergeant Major. "Tell you what Sergeant...I would prefer to meet with no less than four squads at a time. I certainly don't want to monopolize all your training time. They need to learn to avoid capture not how to survive it. Who knows...I might learn something from you."

 

Sam's smile grew as she discovered that perhaps her CO was not a washout when it came to diplomacy after all. She heard the Sergeant Major agreeing with him and saw the look of utter relief; briefly visit his face.

 

It took less than thirty minutes to make arrangements for squads one through four to meet in the Strategic Command Hall, including the time it took to convince the four star in charge of this 'dog and pony show', as General Hammond so affectionately called it, to agree with the outline O'Neill had in mind.

 

The Strategic Command Hall was just what its name implied, it was the large lecture hall, with in which command leaders from all levels were briefed on, and discussed, strategic options. It was designed similarly to a college lecture hall, with rows of seats gradually elevating to the back of the hall. In the front of the room, a small, raised, platform held a lectern and microphone. Behind the speaker, there was access to a white board and screens for overhead projectors. Colonel O'Neill assured the Sergeant Major that he would not be in need of the additional equipment. Two microphones would suffice, one for him self and one for the 'audience' to use.

 

Major Carter found a seat in the front row, off to the Colonel's right. She watched as he conferred with a young Corporal who was adjusting a portable lapel 'mike' for his use, making certain it was working and fitting snuggly on his belt. Making mental notes on his demeanor, she found him to be in complete control. His breathing was even, not too fast, his facial expressions seemed relaxed...suddenly he looked up to find her staring at him. "What's up Carter? Have I got a tree growing out of my head?" His remark caught her off guard.

 

"No, sir. Everything looks pretty normal from here, sir." She accentuated the 'normal', with a smile, hoping he would understand the support and encouragement she was giving him.

 

"Thanks, Carter." He nodded back to her. Yeah he understood...more importantly...he appreciated it too.

 

Sergeant Major Gibbons escorted the Air Force Colonel and Major to an anteroom, just off to the left of the platform. He then signaled the Corporal to open the doors. Each squad filed in and was seated in quiet efficient order. There was room for another dozen people and since word of Colonel Jack O'Neill's arrival had spread through out the Post, there was no trouble filling the extra seats. In the anteroom, the guest of honor was finding it difficult to stand still.

 

"Sir?" Sam had come to stand, rather, pace beside him. By the look on his face, he was far away from Fort Benning. He had not heard her.

 

"Sir." She spoke again, her voice firmer this time.

 

"Umm..." O'Neill looked at her sharply, as if he did not recognize her. Then his face lightened. "Carter?"

 

"Sir, I just wanted to say I think you are doing your country a great service...again. I wanted to thank you for your example of leadership and courage, sir." They had both stopped pacing. Jack gazed on the face before him. He started to reach out toward her soft cheek...stopping himself and dropping his hand back to his side he muttered; "Damn regs."

 

"Yes sir." Carter suddenly blushed and stepped back two paces.

 

"Uhh...sorry Major, I guess my mind was elsewhere. Wait...that's not what I meant." Colonel Jonathan O'Neill, war hero, decorated veteran of more than one military conflict, special ops, black ops, traveler to unknown worlds, defender of the galaxy...survivor... was suddenly finding it hard to utter a single phrase.

 

Carter raised her eyebrows and slowly nodded her head. "Uhh, huh. That's what they all say." She was trying to break the tension that had enveloped her CO, and friend. She started to giggle. It worked every time.

 

"Major, if I've told you once...No giggling." There it was, the relaxed smile and confident glare. That's what she was trying to help him find. He realized what she had done as he saw her own smile broaden. He watched her another few seconds before thanking her. "Major Carter, I appreciate knowing I have the best second in command anyone could ever hope for."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

The door to the anteroom opened, Corporal Wilson approached the Colonel to turn on his 'mike'. O'Neill and Carter shared a sudden, brief look of horror as each realized they had forgotten about the microphone. They mentally replayed their conversation hoping that nothing had passed between them that could have been misconstrued if accidentally overheard. Jack shook his head slightly to reassure the Major that everything was ok.

 

Through the open door, O'Neill surveyed the packed hall; he wondered if he had done the right thing. Maybe smaller groups would have been better? He conceded it was too late now, as he heard the room being called to attention. "ATTENNN...HUTT!" There was a deafening sound as dozens of pairs of Army issue boots hit the wood floor. General Owens had entered the hall.

 

"Colonel O'Neill, right this way sir." Wilson directed Jack, to a chair near the lectern. He saluted the General and then took the offered hand in a firm shake. Carter made her way to the front row where her chosen seat was waiting. She made eye contact with her CO, nodding briefly.

 

General Owens addressed the troops. "At ease gentlemen, ladies. I am glad you could all join us today. As part of your Ranger training you have been required to read some rather detailed, and possibly disturbing reports concerning POW confinement. It is a part of war; there is no getting around that fact. What you do need to know and be prepared for is the type of treatment you might expect to receive. We are at war with religious fanatics. So far removed from the mainstream Muslim that it is a religion all its own. Terrorism is a way of life for these people. Do not expect them to abide by the Geneva Convention. Do not expect them to honor the Red Cross, or any other affiliate that wishes to know the status of prisoners, especially U.S. prisoners."

 

As Jack listened to the General speak to these young recruits, he watched their faces. Some of them had sense enough to be...concerned, possibly even scared. Others appeared to be unaffected by the General's remarks. One Ranger in particular locked eyes with O'Neill and sneered as if assessing Jack as a weak link in his units command. 'Macho man, you'll never make it.' Jack thought as he returned the gaze evenly. The Ranger finally looked away unable to hold the look from the dark piercing eyes any longer.

 

The General continued. "There was a particularly vivid report that was required reading, the POW debrief of a Major O'Neill USAF Special Forces. Captured in '91, during a classified Black Ops mission, by the Iraqis. O'Neill's unit was ambushed and decimated. The only ones that got out alive were his commanding officer and three other members of their elite unit. As you will recall, from your study of this report, Major O'Neill was presumed dead, and due to the firefight the remainder of his unit had engaged, was left behind. The enemy found him alive, which is why...Rangers...do not leave anyone behind." There was a pause, followed by a resounding "SIR, YES, SIR!" The General, pleased with the response he received, continued. "The Major was shown Iraqi hospitality. He survived his four months of 'Hell' and is here with us today to answer any questions you may have. It is my honor to introduce 'Colonel' Jack O'Neill USAF."

 

There was a sudden round of applause as the Rangers once more rose to their feet. Jack had been playing with his cap the entire time the General was addressing the troops; he now stood and tucked the cap under his left arm. It only took four strides to reach the lectern. Jack nodded silently as he once more took the General's offered hand. The older man leaned forward and placed his other hand on Jack's shoulder. "Thank you again Colonel." "Yes, sir." Jack uttered quietly. Releasing Jack's hand, the General walked to his seat, sat down, and listened to what he hoped would be, words of wisdom, to his Ranger recruits.

 

As Jack reached for the edge of the lectern he looked in Carter's direction, she was also standing and applauding her CO. She smiled encouragingly for him. He took a deep breath then began. "Thank you. Please ...be seated." The applause gradually ended as the soldiers before him began finding their seats once more. "I'm not sure exactly what the General here has in mind...so...I guess we will all just play it by ear. With all due respect, General, the Air Force does not make a habit of leaving personnel behind. If memory serves correctly, the firefight was extremely intense, making it impossible for my CO to retrieve bodies. The remaining members of the unit would have been put at an unacceptable risk." Jack turned in the General's direction to see him bow his head slightly, acknowledging Jack's comment. As Jack faced the audience again, he saw a hand go up. Tentatively, he pointed in the soldier's direction. "Yes, you have a question Corporal...?"

 

The young man stood and accepted the microphone being handed him by Corporal Wilson. "Corporal Adams, sir, yes sir. I was wondering sir, how long after being left for dead did the enemy discover you were still alive?"

 

"Not long, unfortunately, though after the locals were done expressing their opinion of my presence, I lost consciousness. Must not have been out too long or I would have joined my buddies on the bon fire."

 

"The 'bon fire', sir?" The question came from the same source.

 

"Yeah...it was confirmed after Desert Storm that the bodies of the fallen had been cremated...I imagine the Iraqis had quite a party." The Corporal thanked O'Neill for answering his question then took his seat.

 

Another hand went up on the opposite side of the room. "Colonel O'Neill, what was the worst moment, during your confinement?"

 

O'Neill looked upon the Sergeant who had asked such a personal question. His gaze narrowed, as if he were trying to recall the answer. "Sergeant, I'd rather not answer that question. It is something I try not to dwell on."

 

"Yes, sir, I understand sir."

 

"Oh...I don't think you do...and...I sincerely hope you never have to." O'Neill had a strange half smile on his face. He glanced at Carter to find her quietly contemplating his answer. She remembered how he had clung to her after tossing Hathor into the cryogenic bath, repeating over and over "It's me, it's me." She tried to imagine how anything could be worse than being taken as a host. She looked up to see O'Neill watching her, needing to see her smile. She hesitated, then, gave him a discrete smile. He held her gaze for another heartbeat then visibly relaxed.

 

As Jack watched his second in command, he tried to dismiss unwanted memories. 'Come on Carter, I need something else to concentrate on.' There it was, 'thanks Carter.' As he focused on her smile, he began to relax and breathe easier. He noticed the room had become deathly still and quiet. Suddenly her smile was gone. Replaced by a look of anguish and pity?

 

He realized she was looking over his shoulder toward the back wall. He turned to follow her gaze. There projected on the screen was a, twice than life size, photo of a beaten and battered man. The man was unrecognizable, with the right eye swollen shut, and the left cheek sunken where it should have protruded, the bone shattered. From his forehead to his waist a myriad of colors from deep purple, almost black, to bright red, yellows, greens and brown discolored the once healthy tanned skin. The photo was head and torso only, but anyone seeing it had no doubt...the abuse continued down to the toes of this unfortunate man.

 

Colonel O'Neill's knuckles turned white, gripping the edge of the lectern, as if his life depended on it. He turned to face the front again, then slowly turned to his left. His gaze leveled toward the superior officer who had started this nightmare for him.

 

Jack was brought back to the task at hand, as another question was directed toward him.

 

"Colonel O'Neill, sir. What are the red rectangular marks on your torso, sir?" Jack turned toward the voice; it was the Sergeant, who had challenged him earlier, with a sneer.

 

The Colonel's voice was quiet, level, and deadly. "Burn marks."

 

"What did they use to burn you?" The question came from the General.

 

"Jumper cables."

 

"Would you care to elaborate Colonel?"

 

"No."

 

"It may prove helpful if any here are..."

 

"Begging your pardon...SIR..." O'Neill turned to face the General. "...If anyone here finds themselves a captive of Bin Laden or the Taliban, I doubt they will need to worry about jumper cables!" O'Neill's voice had an edge to it that spoke strongly of insubordination. He turned to look at Carter. She was still staring at the photo.

 

The General stood and walked toward the lectern. He came close enough so only O'Neill could hear him. Then he motioned to Corporal Wilson to cut O'Neill's microphone. "This is not what I had in mind Colonel O'Neill. I did not ask you here to frighten my people."

 

"Sir, you are the one who wanted to play...'vacation photos'...NOT me." Jack's eyes did not leave his 2IC, he was fighting the urge to turn and deck the four star...not a good career move.

 

"O'Neill, you are so close to a charge of insubordination..."

 

Unable to resist, Jack slowly turned to face the General. "Yes, sir...and if it will get me out of the rest of this assignment...all the better!"

 

"Pull yourself together O'Neill, you are not done here yet." The general returned to his seat nodding toward Wilson. With his 'mike' live once more, Jack O'Neill turned back toward his audience. He stood tall and answered more questions. "Yes, they fed me garbage, literally."- "Yes...I ate it...starvation is a painful way to go, I was hoping for food poisoning." -"No I was not visited by the Red Cross, officially I was not even missing. Black Ops tends to work that way."

 

Carter was in awe at the obvious abuse her CO had endured. They had been through a lot together in the past four years, but nothing to equal what he had constantly experienced for those four long months. It certainly answered the question she and Daniel had often asked each other, 'How does Jack deal with pain so well?' His tolerance level had no choice but to try, and keep up with the torture. Sam's wandering thoughts were brought back to the hall as she heard the, so far, unasked question.

 

"Colonel O'Neill, sir. How did you survive?" The question was posed by one of the older recruits.

 

"I was determined to see my family again. My wife, and four year old son." O'Neill turned once again to look at his 2IC. He was feeling drained and this was only the first group. He was not at all sure he would make it through three more sessions like this.

 

Carter was there for him, though she was looking a little drained herself. Her smile lacked the sparkle and confidence it had promised earlier. 'This better be worth it...' General Owens, announcing Q&A was over, interrupted Jack's thought. He placed his hand on Jack's shoulder and began to address the hall.

 

"I know I am speaking for everyone here when I say Thank you, Colonel O'Neill. You have served your country well. We are all honored to have met you and had the opportunity to speak with you. You are a true American hero, having endured what you did and not giving in to the enemy. Are there any last words you would like to leave with these men?"

 

Jack had been growing more, and more, uncomfortable as General Owens poured on the compliments. He never liked talking about his accomplishments...it was just part of the job. "Uhh...yes sir, thank you, sir."

 

Jack turned to address the Ranger contingency once more as General Owens returned to his seat. "In my current assignment...monitoring 'Deep Space Telemetry'...I have seen some pretty awe inspiring things, but nothing comes close to this world, and specifically this country, in which we all have the honor to live. I am no hero for having been captured. It is one of the risks of the job. I am no hero for not divulging information to the enemy. It is part of the job. I am no hero for surviving...it is the job. We all chose to serve our country as Special Forces in times of peace and war; unfortunately, we are at war...again. If anyone here doubts their ability to do their job one hundred percent...you should probably see about getting reassigned. There is no shame in not taking the higher risk, only in not doing the job."

 

Jack's gaze targeted a couple of Ranger trainees who had been looking, not only ill around the gills, but flat out scared the entire Q&A. "By the way, just because the job scares you... doesn't mean you're not willing to give it one hundred percent. A controlled dose of fear can go along way in keeping you alive."

 

Jack stood away from the lectern to signal General Owens that he was finished. As he did so, the entire room of Rangers, and one lone Air Force Major, rose to attention and saluted him. He was caught off guard as the General also rose and offered a salute. Colonel O'Neill squared his shoulders and returned the symbol of respect. 

 

As the Rangers filed out of the hall, Major Carter came to stand next to her CO. "Sir, I had no idea." Carter looked toward the photo still projected on the wall.

 

 O'Neill winced as he followed her gaze. "Yeah...do me a favor Carter...find Wilson and get that off the wall would you?"

 

"Yes, sir. Right away." Sam did not hesitate in locating Corporal Wilson and having him turn off the projector. The image of the battered POW faded, leaving a shadow on Jack O'Neill's face.

 

General Owens thoughtfully approached the aloof Colonel. "Colonel O'Neill, thank you again for being here today."

 

"Just following orders, sir." Jack smiled humorlessly, reminding the General he had not volunteered.

 

The comment was not lost on Owens. "Be that as it may, reading a report in black and white does not do justice to what you had to endure. Your dismissal of heroism is quite humbling."

 

"Sir." Jack waited for the General to continue.

 

"This appeared to be a bit stressful on you Colonel. Would you prefer we postpone the rest of the Q&As until tomorrow?"

 

"No sir, if it's all the same to you, I would rather get this over with. I think we could proceed without the visual aide though, don't you sir?" O'Neill nodded toward the now blank projection screen.

 

"Yes, Jack, I think we can." The General held out his hand, in the form of an apology, for having surprised O'Neill with the graphic photo taken shortly after his rescue. "I'll arrange for the next group to be seated. Let me know if you need a break along the way."

 

Jack looked at the hand extending toward him. Due to years of military training, rather than an admission of respect, he took the offered hand. "Yes sir, thank you, sir."

 

Carter watched the officer she had worked with for so many years. She knew there was a depth to this man that was beyond her comprehension. Today she had received a glimpse as to why. She absently wondered how deep and torrential his torment went.

 

The next three sessions of Q&As went a little smoother than the first. The questions did not vary much from group to group. There was one moment though, during the last group, that Carter thought Colonel O'Neill was close to losing his composure.

 

"Colonel O'Neill according to your report there was a young Iraqi boy named, Atta. He took care of you for a while, what happened to him sir? Were you able to stay in touch with him?"

 

O'Neill snapped his attention fully on the person asking the one question he never expected. He tried to recall if he had even mentioned the boy in his official report. 'They read my psych reports too. Atta was only in my nightmares, never my conscious report.'

 

There was hesitation and guilt in O'Neill's voice as he answered the question, (there was no point in making a scene here); "No...I wasn't able to stay in touch with the boy who helped me." An unwanted vision of dark sightless eyes quickly passed over him.

 

"Colonel, sir? You mentioned it was only thoughts of your wife and son that got you through this ordeal. They must have been very happy to have you back home. Did you find it difficult adjusting to freedom again?"

 

O'Neill took his time answering the question, trying to clear his head. He remembered the day he saw Sara, two weeks after his release, as she met him at the Army hospital in Landstuhl, Germany. His face was barely recognizable. His shattered cheekbone had not yet been reconstructed but the swelling that was his right eye had gone down considerably. His recuperation period, from the physical damage that had been done, was to last another six weeks before Sara would even let Charlie see him.

 

He remembered the first few nights in the hospital bed in Germany. The combination of relief in knowing he was safe and would no longer have to endure the whims of the Iraqis, and the schooled fear of every shadow that passed his door, wore him out quickly. The night terrors that consumed his first week of freedom would become constant companions over the next year.

 

Carter watched him closely. He seemed to be taking a long time responding to the question, he appeared...to be miles away.

 

"Colonel O'Neill...sir?" Her voice held the anchor he needed to secure himself to the present. His eyes focused on his second in command.

 

'How do I answer this question? My wife and I are divorced, my son is dead, and I still have an overly abundant respect for my car battery. Not what they want...or need...to hear. He began to clear his throat; surprised to find his voice answering the question instead, had his brain switched to automatic?

 

"My wife was a great support for me while I recuperated. My son..." O'Neill's voice wavered slightly, no one but Sam Carter noticed though, "...couldn't wait to play catch again." There was a pause as the Colonel regained his focus.

 

"Freedom...is what this business of 'war' is all about. Freedom...once you have lost your freedom you never forget how precious a commodity it truly is. The difficulty is not in adjusting to freedom...the difficulty comes when one must adjust to losing their freedom. That is your primary concern. Those with families know whom they can hang on to, and whom they cannot. If you do not have someone to hold on to, hold on to the freedoms you enjoy. Hold fast to the knowledge, that if you are captured, your team will not leave you behind. You may have to endure a short time of captivity...but you will never be forgotten. Never forget why you joined the Rangers. Return with Honor, no matter what you may be called upon to endure."

 

As O'Neill looked into the young determined faces before him, he knew there was a resolve among them to do what was needed to preserve the freedom of this great nation. There was nothing more to say. O'Neill took a step back from the lectern, squared his shoulders and saluted the contingent of Rangers before him. As one, they stood and returned the salute.

 

Part Six

 

After an obligatory lunch with General Owens, Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter were free to leave Fort Benning Military Reservation and head back toward The Columbus Hilton. Their transport back to Peterson AFB in Colorado Springs was due to leave at 1300 hours the next day. Unfortunately, the trip home would be...stand-by. AKA "Hurry up and wait."

 

As Carter stooped to unlock the driver's door of their rental, she felt her hand engulfed in that of her CO's. "I'll drive Carter... not that I haven't enjoyed being chauffeured around...I just want a turn driving this T-Bird. Any objections?" Jack's voice was flat, and lacked his normal sarcastic humor.

 

"No sir, of course not." Carter gave him a smile and realized it went unnoticed.

 

Slightly concerned by the tension emanating from the Colonel, Sam checked the speedometer shortly after they entered the state highway...Jack caught her attempt at monitoring his speed. "Relax Carter." His voice was firm and commanding.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Jack did not utter a word the remainder of the twenty-minute ride back to the hotel. His gaze never left the road in front of him. He skillfully maneuvered the car through the crowded streets of downtown Columbus and arrived safely at their destination, where he handed over a generous tip as the valet took the keys from him.

 

Carter stepped toward her commanding officer. "There you go Carter, got you home safe and sound. Be sure to tell 'dad' and 'auntie Janet' we're still in one piece. If you will excuse me Major, I'm feeling a little tired...must be gettin' old."

 

Sam was left standing on the curb watching the Colonel stride toward the entrance to the hotel. He paused long enough to tip his cap and step aside, as the Doorman opened the door to a group of giggling female convention attendees.

 

Sam made her way to her room. She placed a call to the SGC, reporting to General Hammond and Doctor Fraiser, as the Colonel knew she would. Of course she would, it was part of her orders. Maintain contact at regular intervals; keep them apprised of the situation.

 

She stated for the record that in her opinion, Colonel Jack O'Neill handled the situation with control and decorum befitting his rank and station as Second in Command of the SGC and Commanding Officer of SG1. "Yes general, I do believe Colonel O'Neill presented himself in a professional manner...No, sir, I did not detect any disapproval from General Owens, he seemed satisfied with the Colonel's presentations." - "Yes, sir, the trainees were very interested, and from what I could tell, grateful for the time Colonel O'Neill gave them."

 

"Major Carter, thank you for your report. I believe Dr. Fraiser would like to speak with you." General Hammond then turned the conversation over to his CMO.

 

"Hi, Sam."

 

 "Janet, how was Cass' sleep over?"

 

"She had a great time, She is already begging for another one."

 

"Maybe in a couple of weeks she can have one at my place."

 

"I know she would love that Sam. I'm glad to hear the Colonel survived his Q&As as well as he did. There is still a chance of a PTSS episode, so don't be surprised if he isn't quite himself."

 

"Janet, I saw in detail some of what he went through. During the first Q&A, General Owens projected a picture of the Colonel right after his rescue...Janet; I don't know how he survived it. I wouldn't blame him for having a relapse. Is there anything I can do to help prevent it, or at least minimize the effects?"

 

"The best thing you can do is just be there to bring him back to the present. If he is left alone too long, he could think himself into believing he is still in Iraq. Try to distract him. When do you head back?"

 

"1300 hours tomorrow. We are taking a transport, could be a lot of  wait time ahead."

 

"Just do your best Sam. Be his friend, and try to not let him drown in a bar somewhere tonight ok?"

 

"I'll see what I can do. Thanks Janet, see you tomorrow."

 

Sam Carter paced around her hotel room for another thirty minutes. She had to come up with a good enough distraction to present to her CO. She knew him. The last thing he wanted right now was company...even if it was the best thing for him.

 

Sam wandered over to the desk in her room. As she opened the center drawer, she saw all the pamphlets advertising the events available in town. She skimmed through them. Tossing aside the ones that she was certain would hold no interest for him. She ended up with three possibilities. A small, hopeful smile lifted the corners of her mouth, as she quickly changed out of her Class A's and into a comfortable pair of jeans and a red crew neck pullover.

 

As she walked down the hall toward the Colonel's room, she crossed her fingers and hoped for the best. Arriving at his door, Sam knocked firmly but not too loudly. 'What if he's sleeping? He did say he was tired.' The last minute worry was quickly dispelled as the Colonel opened the door. He too had changed out of his Class A's into jeans and a t-shirt.

 

"Come in Carter." His tone remained flat, without emotion of any kind. Carter entered the room and closed the door behind her.

 

"Thank you, sir." She watched as the Colonel moved toward the window. "General Hammond and Janet asked me to say hi...so...HI."

 

The tall officer simply nodded his head and turned to the window. 'Whoa, not even a sarcastic comment about me calling them. I think I have a bad feeling about this.' Sam's concern grew by the minute as her CO just stood there...still...not even twiddling his thumbs.

 

"Sir, are you all right?" Major Carter was beginning to worry about her commanding officer. He was far too quiet for his normal boisterous self.

 

"Sure Carter, just... peachy." O'Neill's response was less than convincing. He continued to look absently out the window of his hotel room.

 

"Colonel, you do know that when ever you answer 'just peachy' it is a sure sign that things are not exactly all right." She hoped the small smile that accompanied her statement could be heard across the room, and give some relief to the tense shoulders of her CO.

 

"Really?" His answer was full of curiosity. He turned and raised an eyebrow in the direction of his 2IC. "And what makes you think that Carter?"

 

"Sir, I've spent practically everyday of the past four years with you. We have served side by side during some pretty harrowing experiences, and some very rewarding challenges. We have seen things that the best science fiction writers could not imagine. We have sat vigil by each other's bedside in the infirmary while one or the other of us has recovered from illness or injury. We have saved each other's lives more than once, or twice for that matter. We..."

 

"So, Carter, what's your point." Jack O' Neill turned again toward the window.

 

"My point is sir, I know you better than you think I do. And because of that I don't for one minute believe that everything is 'peachy'."

 

"Are you calling me a liar, Major?" There was an edge in O'Neill's voice that carried the message 'This conversation is over.'

 

Sam Carter knew her CO and friend well enough to know when not to push. She listened to the unspoken message. " No, sir, of course not, sir."

 

"Good."

 

Carter looked at O'Neill's back and turned to leave. As she started to reach for the doorknob, she looked at him once more. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

 

O'Neill shrugged his shoulders and answered. " Weren't you? ... Alright, granted."

 

"Thank you, sir. I was asked to accompany you here in order to be a support and deflect any adverse reaction you may be having due to the stress of this assignment. I can't help you sir if you aren't open and honest with me...or yourself."

 

Colonel O'Neill turned away from the window once more. He regarded his Major for a moment before responding. His voice was quiet but sincere. " Sam, what I went through was hell on earth, worse than anything we have faced... well, except having a snake in your head...maybe. I do not want to relive it and I certainly don't want you to have to go through it. Talking about it, especially in detail is not going to help me accomplish my goal of neutrality. It's not that I'm too proud, or ashamed, or afraid. It just is too painful and...still after ten years...too real to dwell on." The silence of the room echoed the loneliness Sam heard in Jack's voice.

 

Major Carter fought the desire to cross the room, and take his six foot two frame into her arms and hold on tight. She swallowed hard, her blue eyes shining with moisture. " Sir, there is a ViValdi concert in town this evening. I was looking forward to attending, I wonder if you would accompany me?"

 

He smiled his appreciation of her understanding his need to drop their current topic of discussion.

"Major Carter are you asking me on a date?"

 

Sam's head snapped up to look at her superior officer. "No, sir. I am just trying to follow my orders, to keep you company...and at the same time do something I wanted to do. It might get your mind off things for a while." There was a hint of hope in Sam's voice.

 

Jack nodded his head in agreement. " You're right Carter. ViValdi huh? Yea, I could go for a little ViValdi. What time does it start?"

 

"1900 hours, sir."

 

"Great, that gives us plenty of time for dinner first." O'Neill paused then stated the obvious. "We didn't exactly bring evening wear though did we?"

 

"Uhh, no sir, I guess we could attend in our Class A's." Sam knew their dress uniforms would be acceptable as formal attire for the concert.

 

"No, no uniforms." O'Neill was adamant.

 

"But, sir, I didn't bring anything else that would be appropriate." Seeing the smile spread across O'Neill's face as she confessed her lack of social wardrobe, Sam wondered what was on his mind.

 

"Well, I guess we are going to have to go shopping, aren't we Major?"

 

"Excuse me, sir?"

 

"Shopping, you know where you go to a store and choose something to buy. Come on Carter, you're a woman, surely you know what shopping is?"

 

"Yes, of course I know what shopping is."

 

"Good, let's go." Jack had already crossed the room.

 

"Sir, I haven't exactly budgeted for a cocktail dress this month."

 

Jack O'Neill looked at Sam Carter as a sly smile found a home on his handsome face. "Don't sweat it Carter, I've got it covered."

 

"Sir, I can't let you do that."

 

 "I'm not Carter...not that I wouldn't like to mind you. Consider it courtesy of General Owens."

 

"Ok, I'm confused here, sir. Why would General Owens buy me a cocktail dress?"

 

Jack pulled his wallet from his back pocket and withdrew a new credit card from its folds. "Expense account."

 

"Right," Sam Carter shook her head and smiled as she watched her CO. " I doubt a cocktail dress is an approved expense, sir."

 

"Actually, Major, Generals Owens and Hammond reached an agreement to an 'open' amount of 'miscellaneous equipment' allowance. George wanted to be sure I had a 'comfortable' visit here at Fort Benning. So let's go, were losing daylight here." Jack grabbed his jacket and opened the door.

 

 "Sir, are you sure?"

 

"For crying out loud Carter, have I ever led you astray?"

 

"Well sir... am I still speaking freely?" Sam looked questioningly at her CO.

 

"No, as a matter of fact you are not." 'Momma O'Neill did not raise a complete fool either.' Jack mused.

 

"Ok, then I guess we better go...sir."

 

"Very funny", Jack held the door open for his second in command and followed her into the hallway. "Lead on Carter, I'm sure I'll find something easily enough. Let's get your dress first."

 

"Yes sir." 

 

One of the advantages of staying at the Hilton was its' close proximity to the finer shops of downtown Columbus. It didn't take long for O'Neill and Carter to locate a store that specialized in formal wear. They had a choice of purchasing, or renting their selections. As much as O'Neill relished the thought of making good, and complete, use of the expense account at his disposal, it didn't take much persuasion by Major Carter for him to realize rentals were the best way to go.

 

There was a nice and more than adequate selection of dresses for Carter to choose from. O'Neill left her to decide while he went to the opposite side of the store to choose a suit for himself.

 

"May I help you, sir?" Jack found himself in the company of a middle-aged sales man, measuring tape draped around his neck as if to signify his rank and station.

 

"Uh...yea. I need a suit for a concert this evening, preferably nothing too stuffy."

 

"Certainly, sir. What kind of concert are you attending?"

 

"ViValdi, Columbus symphony."

 

"Of course, I understand it is a wonderful performance. I think I have what you are looking for. Here we are. Not quite a Tuxedo, but very close, and I believe I may have your pant length in stock. We try to keep some ready to wear available, so as to avoid the delay in alterations." A knowing smile covered the bland complexion, as if he were used to same day requests.

 

There was a choice between a collar and bowtie, or a collarless shirt, which Jack noticed, required no tie but still maintained the evening apparel appearance. 'This is what I call a no brainer.' Jack thought as he smiled and indicated the shirt sans collar. A matching jacket finished off his ensemble. He decided to rent a pair of shoes also, opting to avoid the heavily soled military shoes, required with Class A's.

 

His selections complete, he wandered toward the dresses department to see how Carter was doing. A breath caught in his throat as he watched his Major turn in front of the mirror. He suddenly realized the wisdom in the design of BDU's, functional, sturdy, and comfortable, they also helped keep the male mind on the job; and not on the figure of the female members of the armed forces, they worked with. Not even Class A's did justice to his second in command's trim waist and feminine curves.

 

Sam Carter couldn't decide between the long, red, A line, number with the deep scooped back, or the, black silk, sleeveless, knee length with matching Bolero jacket. She looked in the mirror once more, appraising the fit of the red dress. As she looked up her eye caught movement and she found herself looking into the dark eyes of her CO. "Very nice, Carter." His voice was uncertain, as though he had been caught off guard.

 

"Thank you, sir. It's a bit too formal, but I couldn't resist trying it on. I think I'll go with the black dress for tonight." Sam could feel her cheeks warming under the blush she knew had materialized. She had not expected an audience and was, herself; a little uncertain at the reaction she had received from her Colonel.

 

"Yea...black is good." Jack was having a hard time drawing his eyes away from the red dress in front of him. He finally turned and walked toward the counter. Before completing their purchases he called out to her, "I'll meet you back at the hotel Carter...oh, before you leave, pick out some shoes, they're already paid for. Be ready by 1800 hrs ok?" He stepped toward the front door.

 

"Sir, isn't that cutting it a bit close...if we are having dinner first I mean?" Sam's voice was slightly muffled, having to travel from the dressing room.

 

"I got to thinking, a late dinner would be more relaxing...if you can wait...that is." O'Neill paused mid stride and turned toward his 2IC, listening for an honest answer before continuing out the door.

 

As Carter step around the corner he was rewarded with a smile and assurance that indeed she could wait. "Good, 1800 hrs, don't forget."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Part Seven

 

1754 hours. Sam Carter was dressed and ready, she knew from experience when her CO said a certain time, he really meant five minutes sooner. It was one of the constant irritations between Daniel and himself. Daniel's watch always read, five minutes before the hour, and then there was no guarantee he remembered to look at it.

 

She and Teal'c would invariably be caught in the middle of a, 'What time do you have?' round robin. Culminating in a 'Gee, Daniel, I guess your late...again!' Sam couldn't help but smile to herself as she played out the scene in her mind.

 

1755 hours. The knock on the door came, just as she knew it would. As she crossed her room to answer it, she took one last look in the mirror; just to be sure, she hadn't forgotten anything. Dress straight, make-up smooth, hair fluffed. Yep, she was ready. She reached for the knob and opened the door.

 

Standing in the hallway was her CO, looking relaxed and on edge at the same time. Carter was reminded of his intensity when faced with over whelming odds. "Hey...right on time Carter."

 

"Yes, sir. I'll just grab my jacket."

 

"No hurry. Umm, actually...I have something for you. May I come in?" He waited as patiently as he could just outside her door. Rocking from heel to toe, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

 

"Certainly, sir." Major Carter turned and moved back into her room. She was curious to see what else he had for her.

 

Colonel O'Neill took in the sight before him. How could she possibly look even lovelier than she had in that red dress? Here she was, her hair was...fluffy, not too much, but definitely beyond utilitarian. Her make-up, 'Wow, I never realized how beautiful her eyes really were. Liar, yes you did. You've always known, you just aren't suppose to let her know you know.'

 

He continued to silently appraise her appearance, feeling pleased and privileged to know she would be on his arm tonight. 'Nothing to say working associates can't take in an evening of culture together. Keep talkin' O'Neill, you'll be convinced of the innocence of tonight yet...right! He found his eyes being drawn to the shoes she had chosen. 'Perfect.' he thought as he took in the heeled evening sandal.

 

 He suddenly realized how much time he had spent admiring his second-in-command, he quickly looked to her face and found a smile that put his mind at rest. "Uh, Carter, you look great."

 

"Thank you, sir. If I may say so, sir, you look pretty great yourself." She hadn't been wasting time appraising her escort for the evening either, and she secretly thanked Daniel and Teal'c for being unavailable for this assignment.

 

"Here, this should finish off your outfit just nicely." He handed her a rectangular jewelers box. Sam opened it and looked at the contents with some confusion.

 

"Sir, I don't understand." Inside was a gold necklace with a small, triangular pendant enhanced with diamonds, and sapphires. Along side the necklace, lay matching earrings.

 

"When I was a Captain, Sara and I had the distinct privilege of attending a number of 'Official' functions. You know, state dinners...Air Force Ball...CO's kid's parties...anyway, I'll never forget what she told me after the first formal dinner we attended. Apparently after spending time with some of the other officer's wives, she confronted me in tears stating, 'taking her to a formal affair, in a beautiful gown without the proper accessories, was like me taking my favorite firearm to the rifle range without any ammunition...pointless.' Here, let me help you with that."

 

Sam relinquished the box and watched dumb founded as her CO removed the beautiful necklace from its velvet cushion. He set the box, with the earrings inside, on the desk and deftly undid the clasp. "Major? Turn around."

 

 She turned to face the mirror and felt a shiver race across her shoulders as his fingertips lightly, grazed her skin, placing the necklace and fastening the clasp with a practiced skill. The length was perfect, coming to rest two inches below the hollow of her throat.

 

She became aware that the Colonel's hands were resting on her shoulders. He was standing close behind her and spoke softly near her ear, "Do you like it?"

 

"Yes, sir, it's stunning, but there is no way General Owens or Hammond will approve this."

 

"They didn't buy it...I did." He held his breath waiting for her reaction. She did not disappoint him.

 

"Sir, I can't accept this." He figured he would play along.

 

"Ah...come on Carter, why not?"

 

"Sir, you know why not. It is against regulations for me to accept a gift of this kind from my commanding officer."

 

"You're right...can't take it back though."

 

"Why not, sir?"

 

"The Jeweler thought I was crazy when I drew the design I wanted him to engrave. I doubt there is much of a demand for it."

 

Sam looked closer, there carefully engraved amongst the gems, was the Stargate symbol for Earth.

"Oh, sir...as much as I appreciate this, I...can't..."

 

"Carter, it's my way of saying, 'thank you', for being here."

 

"That's not necessary sir...really."

 

Jack's voice softened slightly, "I could order you to keep it."

 

Sam did not hesitate in her reply. "Yes sir, and by doing so you would be enforcing the need for the 'No fraternization' regs."

 

"Yeah, you're right...again. At least wear it tonight...whose going to know?"

 

He saw her hesitation, "Are you telling me you would rather have your P90 without the ammunition?" That was all it took to coax a big smile and accompanying giggle from his Major.

 

"No, sir. Tonight I think I'm going to need my ammo." Their eyes met in the mirror's reflection while Jack's own smile broadened.

 

"Yep...I think you're right. Do us both a favor...don't hesitate to shoot me down if I get outta line." Jack gently squeezed her shoulders then let his hands drop to his side, stepping away from his 2IC.

 

Sam turned and met his gaze once more, "Yes, sir."

 

"Good...shall we, Major?" Jack crossed the room and opened the door. He waited patiently as Carter quickly put on her earrings. She checked the mirror once more, and lightly touched the pendant resting at her throat. A shy, but warm smile took up residence on her face as she turned to join her CO. It promised to be an interesting evening.

 

The concert was exactly what O'Neill needed to put the day's memories back where they belonged. He had always been a fan of classical music, finding it to be the perfect release of all the tensions that could accumulate in a day in the life of 'O'Neill'. Tonight he also had the rare privilege of sharing it, with someone he cared deeply for...even if he wasn't allowed to show it.

 

Sam was seated to his right, apparently enjoying the concert as much as he was. He turned slightly, looking discreetly in her direction. He watched her listening to the music. The orchestra was in the middle of a particularly moving piece from ViValdi's "Four Seasons".

 

Sam closed her eyes, shutting out any distraction from the beautiful music. Jack memorized every angle and curve from her neck to the top of her head; his gaze settled long enough to realize a pair of blue eyes were returning his perusal.

 

Jack cleared his throat as Sam ducked her head, smiling shyly. He leaned in close to her and whispered, "Thanks for the invite Carter, the concert's great."

 

"You're welcome sir, I'm glad you are enjoying it."

 

"Oh yeah...I'm definitely enjoying it."

 

They spoke quietly now and then, commenting on particularly interesting movements or instruments, becoming more, and more relaxed with each other's company. Before they knew it, they were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

 

Sam clasped her hands tightly in her lap to resist the urge to slip her arm through his. 'Ok, who's worried about crossing the line?' Her thoughts were interrupted by applause, signaling the end of the concert.

 

Jack stood up and turned to his 2IC, offering her his hand as she started to rise. She hesitated slightly then placed her hand in his. "Thank you, sir."

 

"No problem Carter, let's get something to eat. I think my stomach is about to join the percussion section.'

 

Sam smiled, "I noticed."

 

"Oh, great...maybe I can go on tour with the band."

 

Right on cue Sam's own belly rumbled loud enough to be heard, "Oops, guess I'll be going with you."

 

"Wouldn't have it any other way Carter."

 

As they exited the Performing Arts Center, Jack stopped long enough to ask the usher to recommend a nice restaurant. After obtaining the desired information, he turned to Sam and offered his arm...hoping she would take it. "Nicest place in town is two blocks east, then three blocks north...as nice as your shoes look...are they comfortable enough to walk that far?"

 

Sam smiled at the concern in her CO's voice. "Yes sir, I'll be fine." She hesitated before slipping her arm through his.

 

"It's ok Carter, I won't bite."

 

"I didn't think you would, sir."

 

They began walking, "Any chance I could get you to drop the 'sir'...just go with Jack?"

 

Sam smiled, "Probably not, sir."

 

"Why not?"

 

"That would be entering into unsafe territory."

 

"Really...Unsafe for whom?"

 

Sam took her time answering. "Both of us...sir."

 

"Aah."

 

Part Eight

 

Two hours after arriving at the restaurant, O'Neill and Carter headed back to their hotel.

"Well, Carter, I hope your meal was worth the wait."

 

"It was very good, sir. How about yours?"

 

"Oh, yeah, it was great. Best crab legs I've ever had. I think we'll make reservations though...next time."

 

Sam grinned, "Yes, sir."

 

It was midnight when they arrived back at the Hilton. Jack paused by Sam's room waiting for her to open her door. "Major, thank you again for a very pleasant evening."

 

Sam turned to her CO. "You are welcome, sir. Thank you, I really enjoyed your company. Oh, here, don't forget the necklace and earrings." She began removing the jewelry, only to find her hands being drawn away, and held in Jack's firm grasp.

 

"Sam...there's no hurry, it can wait." He held her hands in his for a moment longer, contemplating his next move. "Night, Carter." Jack let her hands go and turned smartly on his heel, his long strides eating up the distance between their rooms in very short order. Sam watched as he entered his room and closed the door. "Night, sir."

 

 

0300 hours. Carter woke to a firm knock on her door. 'Who in the world...'her thought came to an abrupt halt as she rocketed out of bed realizing it must be O'Neill. As she was pulling on her robe, she looked through the peephole in the door confirming her assumption. It was indeed the Colonel. Carter opened the door without hesitation. "Sir? Is everything alright?"

 

A very tired looking O'Neill stood with hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Sorry to disturb you Carter."

 

" No problem sir, is there something you needed?" If she hadn't known better she would have thought she was looking at a complete stranger. His eyes were sunken and haunted, his face tight, hair and shirt damp with sweat. He swayed back and forth, unable to stand still. "Sir?"

 

He was looking everywhere but her direction, "I...uh, I..." He let out a tight sigh and shook his head, as if in pain. "Can I come in?"

 

"Of course, sir." Sam stood aside as her CO entered. "Colonel, can I get you anything?"

 

"What?"

 

"Sir, have you been drinking?"

 

"No...bad dream...that's all."

 

"How can I help?"

 

"Just need some company for a minute or two...it'll pass."

 

Sam had never seen this side of Jack O'Neill. It was a little frightening to see him so unbalanced, so unsure. "Ok...sir whatever you need, take your time." Sam started making mental notes again; certain she was witnessing a PTSD episode.

 

O'Neill paced the hotel room, alternating between wringing his hands, and wiping them on his pant legs trying to dry the sweat from his palms. He stopped in front of the window, opening the curtain to look out on the city lights. He stood there deep in thought, unaware of Sam's presence...yet grateful for it. As he ran his hand through his unruly hair, he caught a glimpse of his 2IC's reflection in the glass. Turning to face her, his eyes couldn't meet hers. He spoke quietly as he tried to stare a whole in the rug. "See...this is exactly what I didn't want to have happen...I'm sorry Carter."

 

"Nothing to apologize for, sir. I saw the physical result of your captivity...I can't imagine ..."

 

 He cut her off. "Believe me...you don't want to."

 

"No, sir...But It might help to talk about it, let it out...instead of burying it."

 

"Too late for that...already buried it...along with his head..." His voice was strained and so quiet she almost didn't hear what he had said.

 

Sam watched as Jack suddenly sat on the floor, hugging his legs tight to his chest, rocking back and forth. She knelt beside him, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "Sir? I don't understand?"

 

"The kid...helped me...they cut off his head...made me bury him...with my bare hands. His eyes...they were..." He couldn't say anymore, his chest rose sharply, and shook as he took in a ragged breath.

 

They sat in silence for half an hour; Sam gently cradling Jack's shoulders, rocking with him, letting him set the pace. The first fifteen minutes Sam was certain he was not consciously aware of her holding him, then his rocking slowed as he slipped his arm around her waist. He leaned into her, needing to feel her strong arms around him. She was his anchor, and he held on until the unwanted visions of the past drifted away.

 

Sam murmured softly, "Everything will be ok, Sir. I won't leave you there...I promise."

 

"Can't do this..." His voice sounded stronger as he brought himself back to the present.

 

"Sir, let me help you."

 

"You are, Carter...believe me...you are." He slowly pulled away from her and climbed to his feet, and for the second time that night, turned and offered his hand. Sam did not hesitate in accepting the assistance. Without letting go of his hand, she led him to the edge of the bed.

 

"Sir, you need some sleep. Lie down." Jack was the one to hesitate.

 

"I have my own room, Major." He sounded so tired.

 

"Yes, sir, but I'd rather keep an eye on you for a while." Sam's voice was firm and left no question as to who was in charge.

 

He was worn out, but he knew he must have scared his 2IC for her to be issuing him orders. He needed to lighten the mood a bit. "You sleep with your eyes open?"

 

Sam smiled, ever grateful to hear a small amount of mirth in the Colonel's comment. "Only on special occasions, sir."

 

Without further argument Jack stretched out on the bed, glad to lay his aching head down on the soft pillow...then again, 'Oh boy...this pillow smells just like Carter...' he started to get up, rethinking the wisdom of being in Carter's bed. "I don't think this is such a good idea Carter."

 

"Sir, this is a king size bed. We have slept closer to each other numerous times while off world. I think we can handle it. You get under the covers, I'll be on top..."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"...of the covers, SIR."  She shot him a stern look, as she entered the bathroom to change into her jeans and t-shirt.

 

"I knew that..." He called after her, and then Jack smiled enjoying the shocked look on her face. 'Yep teasing her definitely lightens the mood.'

 

When she returned to the opposite side of the bed, she heard the Colonel breathing deeply and evenly. "Goodnight, sir." She whispered while settling herself on the edge of the bed and reaching to turn off the lamp.

 

"You know...when we're off world...we always have Daniel and Teal'c...as chaperones."

 

"I thought you were asleep, sir."

 

Jack hesitated before answering. "I have to ask you a favor, Major."

 

Now it was Sam's turn to hesitate, "What would that be, sir?"

 

"I know you have orders from Hammond, and Fraiser. I'd really appreciate it if we could keep this little 'PTA' episode, just between you and me." He waited to hear her reply.

 

She smiled in the darkened room at his deliberate mistake in vocalizing the wrong abbreviation. "Why, sir?"

 

"Why? Well...for starters the last thing I want to do is spend any one on one time with McKenzie. Secondly, Hammond, or Fraiser, might consider me volatile...and unfit for command. Third...Daniel and Teal'c...already know I have nightmares...now and then." He paused waiting for a response. He continued, "Soo...what do you say Sam, I won't order you to file a false report...but, I'm asking you to leave out the last two hours."

 

"Can I ask you something, Sir?"

 

"Sure."

 

"Have you had these nightmares while off world?"

 

He thought for a moment, trying to anticipate where she was going with this. "Yeah...I have. Though they haven't been as specific as this one."

 

"Sir, I find it hard to believe that you could be going through this...and not have it affect your judgment. If I hadn't served by your side through all kinds of conditions of stress...I wouldn't have believed it possible."

 

Jack waited, "Soo...Carter, can we keep this between you and me." He held his breath.

 

"Yes, sir. I think we can do that."

 

"Thanks, Sam."

 

"Night, Sir."

 

"Night, Major."

 

Epilogue

 

General Hammond entered the briefing room to the familiar sight of Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter rising to attention. "As you were. Welcome back, Colonel, Major."

 

"Thank you, sir." The reply was stated in unison.

 

"Colonel, I just received a very positive report from General Owens, concerning your visit to Fort Benning. He asked me to pass on his gratitude for your time...I hope your trip wasn't too stressful."

 

"Thank you, sir. It was...bearable...sir." Jack looked across the large, oak conference table, his eyes locking with those of his 2IC. They shared what they hoped was a discrete smile.

 

"Good, I know it was a tough order to follow. I'm sure it was of great benefit for those Rangers to have met you Colonel." Hammond had not missed the exchange between his officers. He really did not want to know the details, but was certain that Major Carter's presence had a lot to do with Jack managing as well as he apparently had. "Dr. Jackson, anything we need to know about your visit to the Pentagon?"

 

"Uh...as far as the SGC is concerned...probably...not. As far as living in the United States...yeah...I would say so."

 

"Continue Doctor."

 

"As you know I was called to the Pentagon to help with some translations, and decoding of articles and advertisements found in certain newsletters. Unfortunately, what we found was not very...encouraging. It appears there are far more

al-Qaeda 'cells' residing in this country than was previously believed."

 

Jack grumbled, "Oh great, just what we need. Any chance Bin Laden's a snake head?"

 

"I don't think so sir." Carter spoke up with out hesitation.

 

"Why is that Major?" He was hoping Carter would have a strong case against the possibility.

 

"Well, we would have seen some sign of Goa'uld technology involved by now. There is nothing other than standard weaponry being used...aside from the airliners, of course."

 

"O'Neill, I concur with MajorCarter. If he were Goa'uld he would have shown himself as such."

 

"Yeah, you're probably right Teal'c. Doesn't reduce the risks of another attack though." Jack absently traced the wood grain of the tabletop.

 

"No Colonel, it doesn't. Which is why this base, and all personnel, are to remain on high alert until further notice. This is far from over." Hammond's strong voice came across as distant thunder.

 

The room was silent for a moment as each one seated contemplated his, or her, own thoughts. Daniel cleared his throat and peered over the rims of his glasses. "Um...General? How is this going to affect what we do here? We aren't suspending Gate travel are we?"

 

"No, Dr. Jackson we are not...we can't afford to. Our country is facing a crisis; we have good people who are handling it the best they know how. We at the SGC are responsible for seeing to it that the situation is not compounded by intergalactic hostiles."

 

Jack looked around the table, meeting the gaze of each of his team members. "That is what we do best...sir."

 

"Yes it is, Colonel. Indeed it is. Sg1 you are dismissed. Your next mission briefing is at 1300 hours tomorrow. Have a safe night people."

 

Finis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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