Author: Su Freund

Email: su_freund@ficwithfins.com

Website: http://www.ficwithfins.com/

Category: Friendship, UST/pre-ship, angst and a pinch of action/adventure.

Content Level: Age 13+

Content Warnings: Some use of O'Neill like language.

Pairings: Jack & Sam friendship and UST

Season: Future

Spoilers: References to various episodes up to S10

Summary: The retired General Jack O'Neill has moved on to a new line of work, one that comes as a shock to everyone who thought they knew him. Did the old teammates he's now pushed out of his life ever really know him? And is it too late for the original members of SG-1 to be reconciled?

Sequel/Series Info: None

Status: Complete

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Copyright © 2006 Su Freund

File Size: 296 KB

Archive: My site, Jackfic, SJD yes, Gateworld, FanFiction Net

Art Credit: The artwork illustrating this story was created a couple of years ago by Katsugo, the Darkgate Web Diva. I loved it, asked if I could use it sometime, and it's taken me a long time to write a suitable story for it. The planet described in this story was inspired by this artwork. So thanks to Kate for agreeing I could make use of her wonderful creation. I do so hope she doesn't hate the story! The artwork can be seen at this URL: http://www.ficwithfins.com/AA3_1/archive/2/findingfaith.html or in the art gallery on the site. Kate can be contacted at katsugo@darkgate.ws

Author’s Note: This is my entry for the Jack-fic-athon Challenge 2006. The plot bunny provided for the challenge can be found at the foot of the fic, but don't go there first unless you want to be spoiled. Thanks to the person who provided this plot bunny, whoever they may be. I had a lot of fun writing it. Many thanks are due to Flatkatsi who beta read this story, picking up my many errors and forcing me to improve. The story is much better for her invaluable input. All remaining mistakes are, of course, entirely down to me.

Finding Faith

This job required stealth and when he needed to be, you couldn't get much stealthier than Jack O'Neill. Except maybe Teal'c, when he wasn't wearing that confounded Jaffa body armour that clattered and thumped in an attempt to scare folks into submission and subjugation. But that's quite another story. This story is about Jack. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, and there's something about candlesticks in there somewhere, although who knows why so don't even bother asking.

Hence, there he was being stealthy, slinking forward, acutely alert to each movement and sound: every nuance of the rustling breeze, and the chirruping and twittering of birds. The only movement going on right then was his. He could detect very little through the darkness of the lush, dense trees. As silently as possible, he crept onward, shrouded by the oppressively thick forest surrounding him.

It was a running gag with SG-1 that O'Neill hated trees. That wasn't in the least bit true, but he'd always let his team think so through his flippant or sarcastic remarks. He loved them, but was kind of partial to the familiar foliage of Minnesota. This forest was different – dark, dank and eerie - and that was creeping him out.

If he looked up he could see just a little of the sky that hovered menacingly overhead. The heavens were laden with a heaviness that added great weight to the repressive forest. Jack thought in all his travels he'd never encountered a sky quite like this one. Its greens, pinks and dark greys reflected ominously on the surrounding unnatural terrain, merely adding to the O'Neill mental illusion of spooksville central.

The increasing dampness underfoot told him he wasn't far from the lake, and the welcoming sight of the Stargate, and O'Neill glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Where were the others?

The surroundings reminded him of tropical rainforests back on Earth, but this place was eerily different and alien. Go figure! They were on an alien world, after all, but there was something menacing about this planet that unnerved him. O'Neill wasn't a man who was spooked easily, he wouldn't have lasted long in the Air Force if he had been, particularly at the SGC, but spooked might have been one word he would use to describe his disquiet.

Was his unease borne from being all alone out there? It wasn't the first time he'd been alone in harsh and portentous surroundings, but now it worried him. This place wasn't meant to be that threatening. The mission should have been simple and straightforward, so why did his skin prickle? His hand ran around his neck scratching at the itchiness, and Jack knew the irritation had little to do with the planet's humidity. It was that warning sign he'd gotten so used to over the years. There was something, possibly danger, lurking here, and it wasn't coming from his pursuers. It was something else. Jack just couldn't put his finger on it yet, but he would.

The surrounding forest suddenly felt even more oppressive and he fingered the radio attached to his vest but it remained ominously silent. O'Neill kept glancing at it as if wishing it would crackle and pop into life, but he'd ordered radio silence on this one so wasn't really expecting it. Silence was necessary, although he didn't cherish being alone, feeling exposed and just a little vulnerable. No way did he want these guys to catch up with him. It was unthinkable that such a thing should happen. Jack wondered how Carter and the others were doing, and where they were. But he wasn't breaking the silence anytime soon to go finding out.

A sudden noise broke that silence and he melted into the undergrowth, crouching behind the closely packed ferns and bracken to become almost invisible and staring carefully upward – not that it was likely they could see him through the density of the domineering trees. Leastwise, not from above.

P4X-928: the stuff nightmares were made of. And it looked like the nightmares were just about to get worse. Squatting to watch the unfamiliar ships as they swooped overhead, he cursed. Crap! Looked like he might be stuck there for a while. How the heck had he got himself into this fine mess? As he silently hid and waited, O'Neill gave some thought to that question. He was getting too old for all this crap.

*****************************

Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, a few months earlier:

The cadet stood before O'Neill somewhat uneasily, Jack thought, and he waited in silence for the young man to speak, one eyebrow arched quizzically. Cadet Thompson was wondering if he would ever learn how to do that. It was a neat trick. He'd tried practising in front of the mirror but could still only raise both eyebrows simultaneously. That kind of bugged him but he didn't have the nerve to ask the old general how he did it.

"Didn't you used to work with a Colonel Carter, sir?" Thompson asked after the longest of pauses.

"Yeah, what of it?" O'Neill wondered how the cadet knew. Had he been digging up the dirt? What dirt he could find that is, which wouldn't be much, let's face it, given most of Jack's working life was classified. He never had gotten around to writing that book.

"The colonel is a guest lecturer today. Something to do with quantum physics and wormholes."

Jack tried to look casual about that revelation, wondering how the hell he'd missed the fact she was coming to the Academy. "Ah! She's quite the expert in that field. Are you going?"

"Will it be worth it?" Thompson asked a little cheekily.

"Worth it? Carter's always worth it. She's a genius."

"Really, sir?"

"A national treasure. You should be honored to listen to what she has to say. Listen and weep at your own stupidity, Thompson," he said, noting the cadet wince slightly at his turn of phrase. "You'll learn a lot."

"Then, as you recommend it, I'll go, sir."

"Well, it's not my area of expertise."

"But you know a lot. You've been there and done that, sir."

Jack eyed him curiously, pretty sure Thompson couldn't be referring to travelling through wormholes to distant planets, and realised he should probably reprimand the cadet for his gall, but just continued to look him in the eyes and felt gratified the young man was discomforted by that silent reproach.

"I know an awful lot about a lot of things, Cadet, but working with Carter for years didn't teach me much about physics I didn't already know. She was always way over my head."

"I find that hard to believe, sir."

O'Neill was conscious of the fact Thompson had a minor school boyish crush on him and knew he could do little wrong in the cadet's eyes. It was simply one of those student/teacher type crushes and it happened all the time. Jack hadn't worked out what to do about this one yet, but he would, and Thompson would come out all the better for it, he hoped. That happened all the time too.

One thing Jack liked about this job was watching the kids grow and develop into more than they might have been. Wasn't that what all teachers wanted? Maybe not everywhere, or maybe that's how it all started, but the old cynicism generally kicked in to give a swift one up the butts of the overly idealistic.

Jack had come to this job with no real idea of whether he could succeed and, so far, he'd had both successes and failures. Failure was much a part of life as success and he tried not to take it personally. It sucked, but it would always be so.

"You have too much faith in my abilities, Thompson. Why do you think I teach what I teach?"

"You teach it very well, sir."

"I'm flattered and all that, but what happened to the apple?" Jack joked with a half-grin on his lips.

"I-I…"

"Spit it out, cadet."

"I, um, I'm pretty sure there's a whole lot of other things you could be teaching us, sir."

Jack eyed him sternly. "But I teach the one thing I want to teach, Thompson. The past is the past and there's no going back. Life's too short to do the things you don't want to do."

"Yes sir," Thompson replied, taking the hint from the general's eyes and deciding not to push it.

"Okay, so run along then. I need coffee."

"Yes sir," the cadet replied turning to leave. "Are you going to the lecture, sir?" he asked as he reached the door.

"Might," O'Neill replied thinking, 'Yeah, I might just do that.' He hadn't seen her for a very long time, despite living in the same city. 'The past is the past.' He sighed heavily at the thought and pondered what to do. It sure would be good to see her again. Or not. He wasn't really too sure but it gave him a lot to think about.

*****************************

O'Neill was as surprised as anyone to find himself in this place, doing what he did. Sometimes he'd be staring out at a sea of faces, many of them bearing bored expressions and probably wishing they were elsewhere: aerodynamics, engineering, communications, military tactics – anywhere but where they were right then listening to an old general droning on about a subject a lot of them didn't give a damn about. That could be pretty scary stuff, particularly first time out. They were all so young.

It gave him a thrill of pleasure on those occasions he spotted a spark of interest light up the eyes of a cadet, although Jack wondered how very many more times he'd asked himself if he was getting through.

Much better were the smaller groups, sitting with the eager young folks who took an interest in what he had to say, having the gumption and enthusiasm to enjoy debating with him and learning to think for themselves. They got the old blood pumping in Jack. It wasn't quite like going out in the field and outwitting or fighting an enemy, but nothing was ever going to be the same as that and he would never get those chances again.

Touring around the universe and saving the planet on a regular basis - how do you top a career like that? You can't, it was as simple as that. Jack still missed it but it seemed as if all of that had been another lifetime ago. That O'Neill was still inside, yearning to break free, longing to come out and show himself. There were those people who thought of that Jack O'Neill as a hero. Jack thought the notion was bullshit.

Lucky maybe, well trained for sure, but not a hero. The exhilaration and excitement, the adrenaline rush, the fast and hard pumping blood, and possibly even the terror - Jack had loved that. Damned near getting killed on a regular basis was a side effect worth suffering for all of it. The closest he came to that these days was when he saw that light in a cadet's eyes and knew he'd found a special one.

These young cadets were the future of the Air Force, the next generation of heroes, and they had no real inkling of what O'Neill was or had been, or what they might become. But Jack knew, he was good at knowing, and that gave him a rush. It also made everything worthwhile.

'Life sure is strange,' he thought. 'Who'd have ever guessed I'd end up here?' Jack had figured he'd leave the Air Force in a box. His death should have come while defending his country, planet and universe, as befitted a man with the heart and soul of a warrior. That or he should have taken himself off to the cabin in Minnesota years ago. He'd promised himself he would. If he lived through it he'd spend his days pottering around fishing for no fish, playing cards or chess with the guys, going for long walks in the beautiful forests that surrounded the cabin.

'Just goes to show how wrong you can be,' he thought. They wouldn't let him go. It wasn't that he had no choice but, well, he didn't have much of one. 'Looks like I'll die a death I never wanted and leave this world with a whimper, not a bang.' That notion gave Jack no joy, but life was filled with regrets.

As he quietly sneaked into the back of the lecture hall, he was confronted by one of them – Colonel Samantha Carter. She was as beautiful as the day they had met and probably twice as sassy, but as confusing as ever. Jack, however, didn't really care much about what she was saying, just enjoyed listening to the sound of her voice and watching. 'Cat can look at a queen, can't he?' O'Neill asked himself.

He wasn't sure he even wanted Carter to know he was there, and considered just watching and listening, and then beating a hasty retreat as she finished. Then he could avoid talking to her. It had been, what, a year, year and a half, more like two since he'd last seen her? Jeez, where did the time go? Jack wasn't sure what he would say anyway after all this time and he couldn't imagine she'd find anything he had to say remotely interesting. Would she want to talk over old times and play catch-up? Why should she?

His maudlin mood was making him regret coming, but as he watched her Jack realised he couldn't allow himself those regrets. She was still special, still important in his mind if not his life. 'Get a grip!' he told himself.

She looked up in his direction, saw him and caught his eye, hers widening with surprise, and she stumbled over her next words, turning her head away to stare steadfastly at another section of the audience.

Jack knew now he'd been spotted there was no escape. He had to stay behind and say hello. It would be downright impolite not to. When Sam turned back to look at him and smiled, he remembered how much he had always loved that smile, and been warmed and comforted by it. It reminded him of old times, of better days. Before… before… so many things.

He nodded back an acknowledgement and noticed that many of the cadets had turned around to look. Jack suddenly wanted to turn tail and run but wasn't going to let anyone accuse him of being a coward, especially not himself. His stern look could quail the hardest of hearts and the audience shied away from it as one. Jack relaxed a little, briefly basking in the smile before she turned away again.

Sam had been one of those people who'd considered him a hero. O'Neill wondered what she thought of that these days, admitting he wouldn't mind a bit of hero worship from her right about now, but he knew everything had changed. A lot of water had passed under that proverbial bridge he'd never crossed - a whole damned ocean's worth.

As she continued her lecture, Sam had to admit to feeling slightly flustered. The last thing she'd expected was for O'Neill to turn up to a lecture. Back in the day, he'd hardly been able to listen to her for more than two minutes without getting jittery. She'd believed that if she wanted to see him she would have to seek him out and had been arguing the toss with herself about that for days now. To see him or not to see him? That was the question.

It seemed Jack O'Neill had taken the choice out of her hands and Sam was feeling slightly affronted by that. As if the infuriating man had ever taken any interest in astrophysics. Yeahsureyabetchya! Sneaky old bastard. 'Thinking about collaring me to reminisce, General? Been a while. Too long,' she thought slightly bitterly, wondering what he'd have to say for himself after all this time. 'Dammit, Sam, control these thoughts and focus.'

Then it struck her how mortified she'd be if he didn't stay behind to say something to her. What if he left without saying a word? The notion struck fear into her heart and once again she stumbled over her words. 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't,' she thought.

Her ex-CO's current occupation more than perplexed Sam. The man was a tactical genius, knew more about survival skills than many of the cadets would ever learn in their lifetimes, and he'd ended up teaching literature. Who would have ever known he had that in him? It might be worthy in its own way, but she considered it wasteful of O'Neill's talents and couldn't help but believe the US Air Force must be thinking the same thing.

She couldn't imagine how he'd got away with it, or what had prompted him to do it, although she'd heard he was extremely good at the job. The most intellectual thing she'd ever seen him read was Mad magazine, so it had her stumped. Jack O'Neill was a puzzle within a conundrum, and clearly way more intelligent and educated than he'd ever let on. Sam had always known there was a lot more to her CO than he cared to reveal, but she would never have guessed at that. Literature? It beggared belief.

As she had a secret desire to discover another Jennifer Hailey while there, Sam shook these thoughts from her mind and concentrated on the job at hand. She could give the lecture without breaking a sweat, but she wanted to observe and find that special someone with a spark. However she was still looking as the lecture and questions wound up and the cadets started to leave the hall.

As the cadets filed out, Jack remained where he was while Sam started to wipe the white board clean and pack away, trying her best to ignore his eyes drilling into her back. When they'd all gone she turned to look up at him and he slowly rose from his seat and made his way down the steps towards the stage.

"Well, this is nice," he said in a voice laden with sarcasm as he stopped to stand beneath the podium.

'I won't bite you idiot,' Sam thought, already angry before they even started to talk. She was disturbed by the hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Sir?" she queried.

"Sam, I think we're way past the sirs, don't you? I'm just plain Jack now. Have been for a while, don't you know?" The ironic smile, eyes dancing with merriment, was all too familiar to Carter.

"Yeah, I'd noticed. We've missed you." She bit back a sigh of regret at the admission, but it was true - they had missed him; she had missed him.

"Well I'm here!" he declared jocularly, waving his arms and hands in the air in a typically O'Neill gesture. "Been here for quite some time too."

Sam detected the tinge of sadness and cursed to herself. They had so let things slip and for the life of her she was at a loss as to why. What had happened to those deep friendships and bonds they'd forged over so many years? Here he was working in Colorado Springs and he never got in touch, in fact he had appeared to deliberately push his old friends out of his life, for whatever reason. None of them could fathom it, but it was his choice.

"You could have called any time," she commented tartly. 'Two can play at the blame game,' she thought snarkily, realising she still understood at least some of what he was thinking. He expected her to call him? What was wrong with Jack making a move or two, for crying out loud? She almost laughed aloud at the unspoken use of one of her ex-CO's favourite phrases.

"Yeah, you too."

They regarded each other silently for a while before Sam broke the spell. "I'm surprised after all those years that none of us ever caught onto this thing you have with literature," she said, not yet willing to tackle those trickier barriers that lay between them.

"Not as dumb as I look huh?" he said smiling thinly.

"I never thought you were dumb."

"Just not the literary type?"

"I would have thought military history or tactics were more your kind of thing."

"I've retired from all that."

"How can you ever retire from saving the world, sir?" she retorted with a small mocking smile and O'Neill couldn't help but grin.

"I wanted to get away from it," he said seriously. "In fact I insisted on it. Sometimes I cover for absences on that kind of thing, but I stubbornly refuse to get drawn in."

"So I've heard. Fancy yourself as Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society? 'Captain my Captain' and all that?" she asked and he looked at her blankly. "Please don't insult me by pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."

O'Neill shrugged and chuckled. "I guess maybe I do want to see myself a little like that. Inspiring the heroes of tomorrow. What could be nobler than that? So not me, I know, but I kinda like being full of surprises." A small ironic smile was left behind, etched on his lips and glinting in his deep brown eyes as he stopped talking.

"Not quite the normal career path for a retired Major General," Sam commented with a curious frown, still unable to move from her spot on the stage. It irked her that he hadn't bothered to walk up the few stairs to join her, and his standing at the foot of the podium staring up at her was vaguely discomforting.

"No," he agreed, eyes pulling away from hers and looking down at his feet. Sam wasn't sure exactly what that signified, but it was pretty obvious he felt as awkward as she did. The fact gave her a small measure of perverse self-satisfaction.

"I would have imagined your experience in the military would be more inspiring to the cadets."

"Yeah? And how the hell would you know? It's not like you've been in touch lately." Sam flinched at his scorn and he immediately regretted the sharp retort.

"We all figured you didn't want to know! You pushed us away!" she snapped back angrily and defensively, annoyed she was allowing herself to get irritated by the exasperating man. "You were always such a private person, difficult to be friends with. Making us feel like we were intruding. So I'm sorry if you're pissed and feel we abandoned you or something but get over it - get over yourself!" Sam turned and started to stalk over to the stairs. "Maybe I'll see you around," she added over her shoulder.

Jack's heart sunk at the notion she was leaving, particularly with those parting words. "Sam, don't, please. I'm sorry." She stopped in her tracks and turned, eyeing him with anger still written on the tautness of her lips, but taken aback by his apology. "I figured it was you who didn’t want to know me. I guess there's fault on both sides."

"There's sides?" she retorted.

"No, I mean... aw crap!" Jack sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short grey hair, realising he wasn't the only one who was pissed. He guessed he deserved her ire, just as she deserved his. Daniel and Teal'c probably thought the same way too. "Can I buy you a coffee?" he asked suddenly, wanting to make peace with an old and dear friend. "Let's talk a little, huh?"

The tight lines around Sam's mouth smoothed out and turned to a smile. Screw it! If he could back down a little, so could she. "Coffee? Yes, you can buy me a coffee, Jack," she said, placing an emphasis on the use of his forename. "Coffee and cake would be nice."

"Cake? I could get into that," he said, face lighting up at her acceptance.

She made her way down the steps and, as they silently left the lecture hall side by side, Sam shocked and flummoxed him by linking her arm with his. Jack said nothing, just looking down at her with a surprised expression on his face and the hint of an arched eyebrow.

"So, how have you been?" she asked, acting as if this was the most normal and natural thing in the world. Jack figured he liked that and gave her arm an affectionate squeeze, which prompted a big smile.

"So, so, you know. The knees are shot. As for the back…" He grinned when he noticed Sam roll her eyes indulgently. "Same old, same old."

"No, not at all the same old," she asserted, noting the heads turning towards them as they walked along the hallway in their suggestive pose.

"You're angry with me," he stated.

"Yes," she agreed.

"Because I never got in touch?"

"Yes, and lots of other things. I have a whole list," she joked, trying to keep the mood light and breezy.

"What? I abandoned the SGC? I never told you what I genius I am in my own small way?" He would have continued to second-guess her list but she interrupted.

"Actually I've heard you are more than just a small genius, Jack. But yes, both of those things, and more."

"What else have you heard?" he asked inquisitively.

"I've heard a lot of the cadets in your tutorials respect you, adore you actually." Jack beamed at that idea. "So maybe you are Robin Williams after all, Captain my Captain." If it hadn't been Jack O'Neill she was talking to, Sam might have sworn she heard a quiet giggle, but as it was she figured she must have misheard.

"Been keeping tabs on me, Sam?" he asked, more than simply curious. He was pleased she'd taken some interest in his life, even if he hadn't known it.

"Let's just say I've made enquiries."

"I'm flattered, but you never thought of asking me? Am I that unapproachable?" The thought bothered him and Jack wondered why he had protected himself so much, hidden himself away and lost good and dear friends. He didn't have to think too hard, he knew. Was he wholly to blame? Maybe… aw, crap!

"Maybe I thought you should do the asking," she replied, determinedly meeting his gaze. Jack wasn't sure if he interpreted her meaning correctly, but was starting to get the general idea.

"I should have." How could he disagree? 'Shoulda, woulda, coulda…' he thought remorsefully.

"Yes, you should."

They had both paused their stride to stare at each other in silence, until Jack spoke. "I wish I had." he gave her a slight tug and they started moving again, neither meeting the other's eyes but seemingly concentrating on the steps they were taking.

Pleased that he might be willing to admit to that, Sam probed further. "So, why didn't you?"

"Maybe I'm a coward."

"Jack O'Neill? You're kidding, right?" she said, pausing briefly before adding, "It isn't too late."

Surprised, he hesitated again briefly before plunging on towards the commissary. "No? That's good. I'll bear it in mind."

"Yeah, you do that," she said, turning her head to look at him but feeling ill at ease and uncertain as to what they'd just agreed. She was fairly sure they'd agreed something.

Jack merely nodded, looking thoughtful, and nothing more was said until they walked into the commissary. It wasn't particularly crowded at that time of day, and he got coffee and two gigantic portions of chocolate cake, leading her towards a table far away from where anyone else was sitting.

"Congratulations on the promotion, by the way, Colonel," he said eyeing the eagles on her shoulders as they sat down. "I'd heard… should have called I guess." His tone was regretful and, although she might have picked him up again on what had happened in the past, she didn't. They needed to break the ice a little more before raking over the recriminations and regrets. "You deserve it."

She wanted to tell him how much she'd wished he'd been there to see it, maybe even to pin the eagles on her uniform, but she didn’t do that either. "Thanks. Dad would have been pleased." Her smile was wistful as she pondered that neither of the two most important men in her life had witnessed the ceremony that had given her so much pleasure, but which had been diminished by their absence.

"He would have been very proud."

"I still miss him," she admitted.

"Of course you do." Jack reached out a hand, grasping one of hers and squeezing gently, and Sam smiled weakly. Her ex-CO had always had a way of making her feel better when she was down. The touch of his hand was still more comforting than almost anything else she could think of.

Lord, how she had missed this man: the smile, the sarcastic and self-deprecating wit, but most of all that reassuring presence. There had been many times over the last couple of years when she had felt the need for it. When he withdrew the hand she felt its absence keenly and they fell silent for a while until Sam spoke.

"I always thought after you retired you'd still hang around, maybe as a consultant to the SGC or something, or maybe get into the training side of things," she said as they sat down. "You know, the cadets we take on at the SGC. I'd have thought we'd be grateful to use your expertise."

Jack regarded her oddly. 'She really doesn't know,' he thought. "Why do you think I'm here, Sam?" he asked aloud.

She looked at him with wide-eyed curiosity. "W-what do you mean?"

"Things aren't always what they seem, that's all I'm saying."

"You mean you're here under cover?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Jack laughed mirthlessly. "Not exactly, but kinda. You think they let me go from the program that easily?"

"I-I… the thought crossed my mind. None of us really know what happened." She dared to capture his eyes, knowing she was on shaky ground because his resignation had been the trigger for everything to fall apart. Or maybe it had started before that, when Jack had been in DC and saw them all so infrequently. Now she thought about it, things had started to drift a little back then, even while he had still maintained contact with the SGC.

Jack looked uneasy, breaking away from her gaze, eyes drifting down to his coffee cup, fingers caressing and kneading the china while his other hand combed through his short grey hair. He seemed unsure of what to say. Jack was a man who rarely expressed his thoughts and feelings. Indeed, he always claimed he was hopeless with words, and it might have seemed that way to many that knew him.

This made his current job even more incredible to imagine. If he was a good teacher then he had to be good with words, right? Maybe he just found it easier with a bunch of strange youngsters than with close friends. That wouldn't have surprised Sam in the slightest and she wondered what he was fearful of exposing about himself. This was a subject she'd considered many times over the years. Men!

She waited patiently for him to say something and eventually he looked up and met her eyes again.

"How could you know? I never said," he muttered in a low voice.

"Precisely."

"One of the things on your list, right?"

"You betchya," she replied with a smile, willing him to continue. Would he talk to her, tell her why he left, why he hid himself away?

"Can you imagine me in DC?" he asked, but didn't seem to be expecting a reply. "Sam, I was pissed off with sending people to die in alien lands with only the flourish of my signature on yet more boring paperwork. A bit hands off, don't you think? I wasn't able to do much about it because I wasn't there, so I wanted to leave. I didn't want to do it anymore so I gave up on it."

"That's it?"

"You think there's more?" He eyed her with surprise. Damn her, yes there was more. If she didn't already know, Jack wasn't sure he wanted to tell her. She nodded an affirmative but he merely lapsed into silence, wondering how much he should say. "Anyway, they wouldn't let me go unless I continued to do something for the program," he said eventually, deliberately moving the conversation back the original topic. "This is it."

Sam tracked the discussion back and realised what he was saying, deciding not to press about the other more thorny issues and wait for another chance. "So you assess these kids for the program?" She was surprised no one had ever mentioned it. Landry had to know but he'd never said anything.

"That about sums it up." He picked up his coffee and took a sip, keeping the cup raised to his lips, but not continuing to drink. Sam was pretty sure he was using the cup as a prop. Jack O'Neill was very good at hiding, but now they'd got this far she wasn't going to let the subject drop.

"B-but literature?" she queried. "Wouldn't you be better assessing them by teaching something else?"

"Possibly, but I'm a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that."

"In other words, you teach it to spite them? Still sticking it to the man?" she said with a laugh.

"Something like that." Putting his coffee down, he reached for the cake, taking a huge bite.

"Wouldn't you be happier…?"

"No!" he exclaimed, nearly spitting the cake out all over her. Hurriedly he tried to swallow, taking another sip of coffee to wash the cake down. From his irritated tone, Sam took the hint not to go there. Another time perhaps.

"You really are full of surprises, Jack O'Neill."

"One of 'em being that I'm way more intellectual than you ever dreamed possible?" he queried with a self-deprecating smile.

"That's no surprise. You always were a clever man, but just even more clever at hiding it."

"Very astute, Sam."

"We worked together for a long time. We were friends."

"I hope we still are."

"Then why…?"

"Isn't it a little late for a post-mortem on all of that." In an attempt to detract from the subject, he picked up the cup again. Sam felt like snatching it off him and forcing him to expose himself, but didn't.

"Is it?" she asked, persistently.

"We are where we are. Nothing we say is going to change it. Let's… can we just move forward?"

"I'm not sure," she said with a shake of her head, tearing her gaze from his at last and starting on her own slice of cake.

Surreptitiously, Jack watched from behind cautiously lowered lashes as she closed her eyes and made a small appreciative noise while the cake melted in her mouth, savoring its dark chocolate taste and soft crumbly texture. As she stuck out her tongue to lick up a small morsel that had escaped onto her lips, he shivered with pleasure, making a conscious effort to stop a sigh freeing itself from his mouth.

Oblivious to his rapt attention, Sam enjoyed the cake's rich dark flavor while wondering exactly what he meant by moving forward. She didn't have the courage to push it and returned to a slightly less personal topic.

"So why didn’t you come back to the SGC? Put them through their training paces?"

"What, go through all those awful training scenarios like in the old days?" He smiled, sucking in a breath and raising his long lashes to look up. "We could have done better."

"We could have done worse. Besides, we've improved all that since then."

"I know. I created most of the new scenarios."

"You did?" she questioned, taken aback, but Jack merely shrugged and said nothing. "Another surprise."

"I'm full of 'em."

"So why don't you get more involved? Why the back seat?"

"That kind of thing is for the young."

"You're not that old," she objected and he sighed, looking at her askance.

"Take a look around this place. They all think I'm old. Did you know a lot of them call me the old general? Age is relative."

"The old general?" she queried with an expression that made it seem as if it was a personal insult to her. "They have no idea, they're just kids. Sure age is relative but a lot of it is in the mind. Jeez, you're still in your fifties. That's not old, you've just given up."

"No I haven't. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Don't deny it, Jack. Why?"

"Sam I…" He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence as a small cough interrupted them. "Ack! What do you want, Thompson?" Jack asked, turning to face the young cadet.

"Ummm… I-I just wanted to tell the colonel how much I enjoyed her lecture. You were right, sir."

"Was I indeed? That's gratifying."

"You enjoyed the lecture, Cadet?" Sam asked, giving Jack a dirty look for his sarcastic manner towards the young man.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Sam talked to the boy about wormholes for a short time, while Jack sat back and let it wash over him, munching on cake and playing with his coffee cup. By the time the pair had finished, Jack was almost out of time and cursed. He could have happily strangled Thompson for hijacking some of the precious time he was spending with his old friend, although had to admit the interruption had saved his ass from her uncomfortably probing curiosity, for now.

"That boy's got a crush on you," Sam said after Thompson had left.

"How the heck do you know that? He wasn’t even talking to me!"

"It was pretty obvious. Cute!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "One of the pitfalls of doing this job. Never can work out why they pick me."

"I could tell you," she responded in a teasing tone.

"Really?"

"But another time, Jack, another time."

He grinned and nodded, thinking about how to engineer that other time.

"Ummm… I've got a tutorial so I guess I'm gonna have to run," he said, wishing he had more time. He got up to leave but didn't turn away, leaning over her instead. "Just one thing. I'm not doing this to stick it to the man."

"You're not?" she asked, looking up to meet his eyes and trying not to get flustered by his proximity and imposing manner. He certainly still had it, whatever it was he had. She wished she knew.

"You know what Einstein said about imagination being more important than knowledge?" he queried, thinking she must know the quote.

"You're quoting Einstein?" she said with a small laugh.

"You prefer dumb Jack?" he asked curiously, arching an eyebrow.

"No, I think this one's starting to grow on me," she responded with a smile. "Yes, I know the quote. 'Imagination is more important than knowledge…"

Jack interrupted to complete the quote "For knowledge is limited to all we know now and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand."

"He was thinking of science."

"But it applies to anything, and literature is great for the imagination. I'm not qualified to be looking for scientists that might fit into the SGC. I'll leave that to the experts like you. I'm looking for future leaders of men - cadets with the balls to make good use of their imaginations. The SGC requires the extraordinary, not the ordinary. Teaching literature is perfect. Besides, I know my stuff and I'm good at it. And more to the point, I enjoy it. When I see that spark…" He tailed off wondering if she thought he'd cracked, but was gratified to realise she understood exactly what he was talking about.

"That spark. Yep, I get it."

"You always had it."

A faint flush appeared on Sam's cheeks at that comment. "You too," she said.

As he lifted his fingers to run them briefly over her soft cheek, Jack smiled gently. Sam shivered. Oh man! There was that 'it' again. And with a capital I and T.

"W-we'll see each other again, right?" he asked with a hint of nervousness, withdrawing his hand. Despite her chaotic thoughts, Sam's eyes didn't waver from his gaze.

"Call me."

"T-tell Daniel… Teal'c…" He tailed off, feeling awkward and looking slightly ashamed. They hadn't abandoned him, he'd abandoned them.

"I will." She squeezed his arm affectionately and stood up to kiss his cheek, shocking him yet again by her behaviour. Not that Jack was complaining. "You will call, won't you?"

"I promise."

He turned, walking towards the door and his tutorial without looking back, although that was tough, and leaving them both with a lot to think about.

*****************************

On P4X-928:

The craft were small and when the noise of their engines stopped, Jack realised they must have landed, but the ships were outside of his limited visual range and he cursed that, half inclined to scout around and see what kind of aliens they might be.

"Damn this radio silence crap!" he muttered aloud, pulling the radio close to his lips and signalling.

"Carter? Come in? You okay?"

"Sir? I thought we weren't supposed to be using these things."

"Yeah, well plans change. Did you see the ships?"

"I heard something but couldn't see what it was."

"Bogies have landed. Not any kind of ship I've ever seen before. I'm not sure we should hang around long enough to say hello, do you?" He didn't wait for a response. "This mission is a bust. Get to my position. We need to get out of here."

"Copy that. Where are you?"

"By the lake, close to the Stargate, exactly where I'm supposed to be." He smirked at the gasp coming from Carter's lips when he revealed his location. "Where are you?"

"Um, a few clicks south of your position," she sighed wistfully, aware she had failed in her mission. "You haven't lost your touch then, sir." She smiled into the radio.

"It seems that way, Carter." He grinned, exultant with his success. "Did you think I had? O'Neill out." He clicked off the radio, not wishing to say more than he had to, and hunkered down to wait for her and the others to arrive.

It wasn't long before he got restless, and curious. Who were these aliens and what the hell did they want on this godforsaken world? O'Neill thought with some stealth and a little bit of luck, he might be able to find out something useful and be back before Sam and the others arrived. He'd missed that off-world, potential peril rush and here was a perfect opportunity for a little excitement. Jack knew he shouldn't, not with the kids heading his way, but decided to risk it.

Cautiously he moved back into the darkness of the forest, melting into the trees as if he wasn't there and making his way towards the place he figured they must have landed the ships. Landing in these parts was a problem as there was very little open country, but Jack knew where he'd have parked the car and headed in that direction.

As he got close to the clearing O'Neill kept low, squatting behind some large fern like plants to spy on the aliens. He'd been right, of course, this was where they'd landed. Where else? Peeking out from his hideaway he noted the aliens looked human, well mainly, which didn't mean they weren't dangerous. Jack was in a good position to know exactly how dangerous humans could be and didn't want to take any chances.

He tried to make out what they were doing and it appeared they were collecting lots of plants. Alien botanists? Then he saw one of them press what looked like a remote control and out of the ground popped a large metallic rectangle of flat metal that stopped at ground height. Another movement of the alien's finger and a couple of human height metal poles appeared to grow from the rectangle, at which point the alien stepped into the object, grasping a pole, and promptly disappeared underground, leaving no sign of its presence behind.

'Whoa!' Jack thought, 'what's that, an alien elevator?' His curiosity was boosted almost 100%. Nothing the SGC had learned about this planet suggested there might be technology hidden away underground, and these humanoids were well advanced. Was this place inhabited, or maybe a science station? Sam was so going to love this. But he shouldn't take risks, not while they were babysitting.

With this in mind, he watched quietly for a short time, but was unable to discern much from what little he could see. Glancing at his watch, O'Neill realised the others would probably reach the rendezvous soon so quietly reversed his course and returned to wait for them, apparently unseen and unheard in the glowering and eerie forest.

*****************************

Elsewhere on P4X-928:

Sam pushed through the dense forest, two of her charges taking point and two coming up behind. Major Smith and Lieutenant Alexander followed at the rear, protecting their backs. Jack's report of unknown alien ships had her worried. They had deliberately chosen the planet for this off-world acclimatisation, training and testing exercise because it was uninhabited and relatively safe.

It was also pretty alien, and it was important for these young graduates, who might one day become the future leaders at the SGC, to comprehend just how alien the environment could be, to unsettle and throw them off balance slightly and test how they dealt with it - but they hadn't brought them there to get the trainees killed.

The idea had seemed a good one at the time. Jack's scenario was they play a game of fox and hounds with an experienced field officer, in this case him, as the fox and the trainees as the hounds. Take them miles from the gate, give Jack a head start and then find and capture him before he reached the gate. The scenario involved part tracking and hunting, leadership skills and lots of teamwork. It had started well, but O'Neill had been way too wily.

Sam had realised a long time ago that Jack was going to win, but had said nothing. The trainees were running this show. She and the others were there to keep a watchful eye, keep score, and make sure they didn't do something stupid enough to get themselves hopelessly lost or even killed. You can't simply let trainees run riot on alien planets without supervision and protection.

This group had screwed up and they knew it, but they would learn from the screw up and hopefully mature as a result. If they captured the fox, that gained maximum points, but what they did along the way was probably more important and Sam, Smith and Alexander noted the good, bad and indifferent. She had formed an opinion of each of these four young trainees, and her assessments included a lot of positives, but she despaired at the negatives.

Jack had won by reaching the gate without the group capturing him, a pretty tall order in the first place and they'd both known that before they started. Nevertheless, he would never let her live this down. She could imagine him giving her a major league headache with his gloating. And then there was the side bet to consider. She'd lost, sheesh!

"How the heck did the old general do it?" Sam heard one of the graduates in front whisper to his companion. She pretended not to hear but her ears pricked up at Taylor's words. "It must be years since he's been in the field. The guy's got to be rusty, and he's way old. I can't figure how he evaded us to get back to the gate."

"Ack! He's not so old and youth isn’t everything! We lost, he won. He's obviously better than you think." Sam smiled. Taylor's companion was the faithful and lovelorn Thompson. She wasn't happy about the references to Jack's age, as if he were an old man, which he wasn't, but she figured from the perspective of these youngsters he probably seemed old. Jack had been right about that. Someone in their thirties would seem old to some of these young graduates.

"But he teaches literature, for god's sake. If he's any good what's he doing at the Academy teaching a nothing subject like that?"

Sam felt her hackles rise at this assessment of her ex-CO. The arrogant young pup needed to learn a few hard lessons about judging books by their covers. Older he might be but Jack hadn't lost his touch just because he immersed himself in a pile of books rather than being out in the field. Although if they'd known aliens were coming, none of them would be there, especially not Jack. She'd had a nightmare getting this whole thing set up in the first place, particularly using Jack as the fox rather than a currently active officer.

No one could deny that O'Neill had been good in his day, but it wasn't his day anymore and some people had emphasised that point in no uncertain terms. Sam had pushed for Jack because she knew he'd love the chance to go off-world again, albeit on a relatively safe training scenario, and seeing the light dance in his eyes when she told him they'd agreed had been worth the fight.

Now, she wondered if she would live to regret it. If anything bad happened her career prospects wouldn't be worth a dime. Maybe they should have brought another SG team along for the ride too. Sam cursed herself for being so dismissive of that notion when Jack had raised it. Should have known better. Always listen to O'Neill – O'Neill's instincts are always right. He'd gone along with it but, being a worse case scenario kind of guy, he'd had doubts about the safety of the trainees. She'd probably never live that down either. Sheesh!

"Hey!" Thompson objected, voice raised in anger with Taylor this time, "there is nothing wrong with literature." He'd loved the subject. O'Neill made it really interesting.

"It's for cissies," Taylor retorted and, although she was pleased to hear Thompson defending her ex-CO's honor, Sam decided to ignore him no longer, calling a halt. Thompson and Taylor turned to face her.

"That's enough Taylor. You think I'm deaf?" she said, feeling angrier then she appeared. Instead she was the stern colonel, in charge of the mutinous troops. Taylor was dismayed that she'd heard but started to open his big mouth, although Sam didn't let him get any further.

"You want to know how he evaded us, Taylor? He's got more guile in his little finger than you have in that well trained but inexperienced body. And if you ever get half the experience, or become half the leader and hero he is, you'll be a lucky man, and maybe you'll finish your career as a general too, although I seriously doubt you'll do any of those things. If I hear you disrespecting General O'Neill again you will be out of the program so fast that you won't even have time to pack. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am!" Taylor responded, looking suitably chastised.

Sam seemed satisfied with that response. "Let's rest up a little and have some water and an energy bar," she suggested.

"Aren't we nearly there, Colonel?" one of the trainees queried, and Sam threw her a dirty look.

"Sit, Velasquez," she ordered, following her own orders and joining Smith and Alexander to perch on a dry log. Taking a drink from her canteen, she swallowed and glowered at the four trainees. "Can any of you think of a good reason why I made this suggestion when we're so close to our goal?" she asked. Thompson's hand shot up eagerly. "You're not at the Academy now, Thompson, speak up."

"Because we don't know what we might have to face when we get back to the gate. What if it's been taken by the enemy?"

'Yeah, definitely should have had a team guarding the gate,' she thought ruefully. "Good response, Thompson," she said aloud. "We might need that energy. So eat up, and rest."

Sam hoped that gave them something to think about and watched as they each took an energy bar out of their pockets and started to munch, washing it down with water from their canteens. After exchanging a few quiet words with Alexander and Smith to agree a change of plan now they knew Jack had reached the rendezvous, she opened up a bar for herself and took a bite, spotting something out of the corner of her eye.

"Taylor, are you a total moron? Didn't anyone ever teach you to pick up your trash?" Gingerly, Taylor picked up the wrapper he'd so casually tossed aside, realising regretfully that he wasn't making a particularly good impression on this woman who was such a power at the SGC. "It's bad enough to do that on Earth but this is an alien planet. It doesn't belong to us, so treat it with some respect. And never leave such an obvious trail for your potential enemies." He looked suitably cowed and ashamed and she turned her attention to one of the other trainees, who appeared to want to ask a question.

"Ma'am?" Velasquez ventured, "With all due respect, aren't these guys with the ships just part of the training scenario?"

"If they were do you think I would tell you, Velasquez?" Sam retorted, despairing that if these were the best of a bunch, the future of the SGC was at risk. "But they aren't. This is real, so keep your heads out of your butts." Noting the look of fear in Velasquez's eyes, she softened her tone. "The general is the best. He won't let anything happen to any of you, and neither will I." They all nodded, but some of them looked doubtful.

"Is he really a hero, Colonel Carter?" Thompson asked with an eager cheekiness, hoping she might reveal something about his adventures in that life he'd left behind.

Sam nodded and smiled. "Oh yeah, he's definitely one of those, many times over. I was there - served with him for over eight years. The best of the best." She noticed that Thompson looked expectant. "But you'll never hear him brag about it," she added. "Jack O'Neill doesn't consider himself a hero. He thinks he was just doing his job."

"And wasn't he?" Taylor queried.

"And way more, Taylor. A lot, lot more. Saving lives, the planet, and the universe. That's what SG-1 did – still does occasionally." Her lips bore a wistful smile as she spoke. So many memories…

"Sounds kinda romantic," Velasquez said dreamily.

"That's the sort of notion that will get you killed," Sam stated matter of factly, and Velasquez blushed, embarrassed by her faux pas. "It's not romantic, that I can promise you. Killing people never is. And damned near getting killed isn't either. Always remember that." Velasquez nodded, mortified, but hopefully all the wiser for those words.

"With all due respect, ma'am, can't you tell us just one little story?" Thompson probed hopefully.

"I don't think so," she replied with a small grin. "If the general won't, you think I will? SGC missions are classified, Thompson, but maybe one day you'll get to read the files."

"Yes, ma'am," Thompson replied, smiling happily at the thought he might gain access to these adventures one day. "I'm not at all surprised he beat us, Colonel," he added with a look of adoration in his eyes as he pondered his hero O'Neill.

"Ha! That's all right for you to say but I bet him the price of a good meal that we would get him," Sam retorted good-humouredly. "Okay. That's long enough. On your feet and let's get going. And try to remember stealth. It might be a real enemy out there."

The price of a good meal, oy! She owed Jack. Not a princely sum, but it was the principle. He'd won, damn it! On the other hand, she thought she might enjoy the night out. A lot had changed in the last few months, since that fateful cup of coffee and cake after her lecture.

*****************************

Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, a few months earlier:

Of course Jack didn't call her, or not quickly. He'd planned to, but every time he reached for the phone he lost it. He was more than surprised, therefore, when someone knocked at the door during one of his smaller tutorials and it was Sam who entered the room.

"Colonel Carter! Nice surprise," he said in an attempt to be nonchalant, politely standing to greet her while the cadets stood to rigid attention.

"At ease," she ordered the youngsters and they obeyed. "General O'Neill," she nodded towards him, a perky smile on her face. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but do you mind if I sit in?"

Jack was stunned. What could he say? Refusal would seem churlish, and in his own mind, very cowardly. Butterflies rose into the air and flew around in the pit of his stomach. He so didn’t want to seem like a jerk, either to Carter or to his students.

"Sure, Carter, come in. Sit." He indicated a chair with a wild wave of an arm. Sam could tell he was nervous and smiled inwardly. She was so going to enjoy this. "And the rest of you, sit."

"I'll be quiet as a mouse, I promise," she said.

"Well, join in if you wish. I'm sure the cadets won't mind." There was a murmur of agreement from the assembled gathering. Jack sat, trying to turn his attention back to the discussion she'd interrupted.

Sam was curious to see Jack in action and relaxed, determined to observe. Literature was so not her area and Jack could probably wipe the floor with her in a discussion around a book or poem. The irony wasn't lost on her after all of those years blinding him with science, although as far as that was concerned, Sam realised Jack wasn't quite the dummy he'd pretended to be. Full of surprises. She smiled to herself at the thought.

"Now, where were we?" O'Neill said as if reminding himself, but actually giving himself a few seconds to adjust to her presence. "Ah yes, Jenkins, I think you were saying something about Hemingway?"

"Um, y-yes sir. He thought The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was the book from which all modern American literature came. What do you think?"

"What I think doesn't count for much, Jenkins. What do you think?" Jack prodded and the young cadet's eyes lit up as he warmed to the notion of airing his views. Jack smiled inwardly. He so loved to see that spark in these young cadets. This was the very thing he wanted to encourage – they had to think for themselves as well as learn to follow the rules and obey orders. That was quite some tightrope to learn to walk.

"These days it could be considered as racist," Jenkins ventured tentatively.

"Sure, there's been controversy over the years, but…?"

"But you have to put it into the context of its time, right?"

"And…?"

Sam warmed to the theme, getting wrapped up in the discussion and thoroughly enjoying it. At least she'd read Huck Finn and some other Twain, so had an inkling of what they were talking about. Jack was a good facilitator. Once they'd warmed up, he let the students lead the discussion with as little prodding as he could get away with, and the odd comment to get them thinking and take them off on another tangent. It was fascinating to watch.

She'd known he wouldn't call, or if he did it would take weeks rather than days, so had decided to catch him off guard and wrong-footed. Intrigued to see him teach, she made enquiries about his timetabling and had chosen to drop in at this moment deliberately, realising he would shine at his best with the smaller group – the cadets who took a genuine interest in the subject because they were majoring in English and not just there because they were obliged to be there.

Her ulterior motives for coming would reveal themselves in due time. She had more than one reason for turning up, and was taking advantage of one of those right now merely by listening and watching.

As ever, Jack spoke volumes with his hands and eyes. She could tell he was enjoying every minute, the temporary nerves having disappeared into thin air to be replaced by boyish enthusiasm. Sam loved it. The experience revealed so much about him that had been deliberately hidden. The man had an astute brain, and for way more than leading a team and all those other military attributes she'd always admired in him.

"So, what did you think?" he asked, remaining in his chair once the students had left. Sam also stayed in her seat, unable to bring herself to move closer to O'Neill.

"Imagination, I get it," she replied with a nod and grin, and he returned the smile, pleased by her words. "You seem to bring out the best in them, Captain my Captain." Jack chuckled, amused by the reference. Apparently this was going to become a standing joke.

"I hope so."

"You have a way of doing that."

"Do I?"

"Worked with me."

"You were always my best student."

"Thank you… I think."

They both smirked but then an awkward silence fell between them and they kept glancing at each other and then finding something else with which to occupy their eyes, although the room wasn't particularly diverting.

"So why'd you come, Sam?" he asked eventually, breaking that self-conscious silence.

"You didn't call," she answered, her eyes boring into his. Jack took a breath and hastily looked away, distinctly uncomfortable.

"Um, I, um… no." He stared down at his thumbs as they wove around each other restlessly.

"I'd like for us to stay friends," she ventured. "I don't want to lose you this time."

"You never lost me. I was always there," he said, this time deliberately meeting and holding her gaze, his thumbs coming to rest at last.

"Well next time, you might tell me that."

"I thought I had." His eyes pulled away from hers again and he picked up a pen from the desk next to him and started to fidget. Sam couldn't help but stare at his restless hands. They were irritating and fascinating to watch, in almost equal measure. Silence dragged on until she pulled her thoughts together for something to say, turning away from the subject they'd strayed on to.

"I wanted to see you in action. I wanted to witness something I'd never even dreamed was possible."

"Professor O'Neill?" he quipped wryly.

"Somewhat akin to Professor Indiana Jones," she joked.

"No, that's more Daniel's thing," he riposted jovially.

"Talking of whom, he's having a small party. He'd like for you to come." There, that was another ulterior motive dealt with. Jack looked both surprised and unnerved by the notion.

"Oh, I don't know…" he tailed off, chewing on his bottom lip. "Daniel wants me to go? I thought he'd be angry with me."

"I think he is."

"Then…?" O'Neill looked at her with a question in his eyes. Why? Sam could see he couldn't fathom the reasons why his old friends would wish to get in touch when he had pushed them out of his life so completely for so long.

He'd been thinking about this a lot since he'd last seen Sam. For quite a while, Jack had resented the loss of their friendship, blaming his old team for its demise, but her words had made him reconsider and realise what a difficult man he was to be friends with. They had expected more from him and he hadn't given it, so they'd given up. Friendship couldn't be one-sided, it had to work both ways – give and take, not just take, take, take.

Jack could recall the many attempts Daniel had made to insinuate himself in his life, and he had thoughtlessly pushed him away. It wasn't that he didn't crave the friendship, but he guarded his privacy and personal life so fiercely that he made it damned near impossible for people to get too close.

He'd had his reasons, but Daniel couldn't have known them because he hadn't been forthcoming. Closed up like a clam as ever. The same thing with all his friends. No wonder he lost them. Jack wasn't sure he was capable of giving the kind of friendship Daniel had appeared to want. He wasn't a 'confide your closest secrets to a best friend' kind of guy.

As for Sam and Teal'c, the Jaffa had been so busy with his off-world activities, and Sam… Jack had always been tentative about that particular friendship and wasn't sure what either of them wanted from it anymore. He hadn't been for a long time and had feared he'd left it too late to make amends. But he hadn't tried, had he? He'd been cursing himself for being an old fool for days but frankly wasn’t certain what to do about it, or about any of his old friends.

"W-what?" he queried when he realised that Sam had been speaking and he hadn't heard a word. She sighed and shot him a reproving look but didn't chastise him for his inattention. This was Jack and if he was acting Jackish then go figure! You took Jack as is, or not at all. She preferred the as is to the not at all.

"I said Daniel is like the rest of us, he's missed you. And don't start with that he could have called nonsense."

"I wasn't going to, honest!" Jack exclaimed defensively, using an appropriate gesture to emphasise the point.

"You'll come?" She could see and understand his reluctance to commit to such an act, but had to press. Daniel had been insistent, and she wanted Jack to be there.

"When is it?" he asked after a lengthy pause during which he'd been lost for words. Denying Sam anything was hard, but the idea of seeing Daniel again, and the accusation and recrimination in his old friend's eyes, filled him with dread. On the other hand, he wanted this. He wanted it more than he had imagined. He'd missed them, all of them.

"Next Saturday night."

Jack's eyes briefly widened in horror before he quickly suppressed the reaction. "Next Saturday? It's…" As he paused to find the words, Sam noticed a slightly lost and confused look in his eyes. "I haven't seen him for a long time."

Sam realised Jack was anxious about meeting his old friend after so long, uncertain of what reaction might greet his sudden reappearance in Daniel's life. Guilt weighed heavily on her ex-CO – guilt about losing touch and shutting them out.

"Then maybe it's a good place to start," she commented.

"At a party full of strangers?"

"It's strictly SGC only."

"And that's better because…?" He'd lost touch with so many people from the SGC that he'd respected and admired, if not been friendly with. Would they all be accusing and recriminatory? Jack now believed he was at fault but that didn't necessarily make facing up to these people any easier. He genuinely wasn't sure why any of them might want to see him again.

Sam understood this much more than Jack imagined she might. Rising from her seat she approached him, sighing heavily as she neared his chair. Not wishing to be in the more vulnerable position, Jack got up too so he could meet her eyeball to eyeball.

"We aren't gonna bite your head off, Jack, not even Daniel," she said, trying to use a tone of reassurance, although Jack didn't appear to be reassured. "And you can hide in a crowd."

"Why would I want to hide?"

Sam didn't reply at first, simply pursing her lips and eyeing him impatiently. "Isn't that what you've been doing?" she asked after staring at him disconcertingly for a while.

"I told you, I've been here the whole time, just around the corner. That's not hiding."

"Yeahsureyabetchya," she replied in a tone laden with sarcasm and Jack looked at her sharply, then remembered he wasn't her CO anymore so couldn't pull her up on it. She was right of course. He had been hiding, in plain sight, but hiding nonetheless.

Thinking this was the opportunity she'd been waiting for, Sam sucked up a sharp intake of breath to steady her nerves before plunging on. "I need to know what happened Jack. Something... anything." Her eyes showed confusion, doubt and, worst of all, pain.

He gulped, rubbing his hands over his face to hide his consternation. "Decided you can't just move forward?" he asked, referring to the conversation they'd had in the commissary. When his hands moved away, he was avoiding her eyes.

"I just need… don't I deserve something?"

Jeez, she knew how to play him and he wasn't used to it. She'd been his subordinate, and as such she could never have pushed him like this. Now she wasn't she could be Sam. Jack decided he kind of liked that even though she was leading him somewhere he didn’t really want to go.

"Yeah, I guess you do," he replied, worrying his lip with his teeth. Urging her back into a chair he sat beside her groping for words, forcing himself to look at her while he spoke stumblingly. "S-something happened and it brought the nightmares back."

"Post-traumatic stress?"

"I guess." He tried to keep his hands still and concentrate on Sam. If this were important to her he would make himself tell her. Jack didn’t want to lose what they'd found again, however small that was. "I just… I needed to get out Sam, but it wasn't easy. I tried to deny it for a long time, fought hard. Eventually, although I knew I had to, I resented having to go."

Sam was shocked to hear him confess he'd been cracking up. He might not have said it in so many words but, fundamentally, that was the story, or at least part of it. He'd had enough; it was as simple as that. After all, how much can one man be expected to take in a lifetime? She got it.

"You were hurting so you pushed us away because you didn’t want to show it, or for us to know. You never did like anyone to think you might just be human, Jack. Did you believe we'd think less of you?" He was startled by her swift grasp of his situation and regarded her open mouthed.

"A-am I that obvious?"

"I didn’t work with you for all those years without learning a little something about the O'Neill psyche." His hands were clasped together on his lap and she placed one of hers on top of them.

"It wasn't so much to do with you thinking less of me, Sam, or maybe that was part of it. It was… you-you reminded me of everything I'd lost."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known." She wondered what he'd think if she put an arm around his shoulders in comfort, just as he had done for her many times, but she thought better of it as he might just believe she pitied him. So instead she squeezed his clasped hands gently.

It hurt Sam to imagine how it must have been for him, having to leave something he loved and unable to face his friends. He'd needed time. If only he could have told them, but Jack would never have done that. How could he?

"I guess I always thought I'd be okay, and once I was everything would get back to normal again, with you, Daniel, and T, that is. I never thought you'd give up on me, but you stopped trying, or that's the way I saw it."

Sam's heart broke. It was hard to hear this from him. He was right, they had given up because they thought he didn't want them around, and they'd left him to deal with his nightmares alone. They should have been there for him.

She couldn't quite believe he was being so open now when he had been so closed only a couple of years before. Jack might not have said very much but what he had said explained everything. Poor Jack. She wondered what had sparked it all off and if he would tell her if she asked.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly, "And now?"

"I'm fine. Great!"

"Really?"

"Would I lie?" he countered, his mouth creasing up with an ironical grin, and then he straightened up, pulling his hands away from her grasp, and the intimate moments were gone. "Anyway, that's how I ended up here. The rest you know, I guess."

Sam seemed to be considering everything he'd said, and Jack could see he'd upset her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Sam, not then and not now. You know I'd never want to do that don't you?"

She nodded feebly, but her eyes were watering a little and she was trying to hold back the threatening tears. Jack wanted to pull her into his arms but knew that would only make things worse. Sam was desperate to maintain control, he could see that.

"I didn't mean to make it sound like I was blaming you for anything," he said.

"But you did, didn't you?"

He nodded and he heard a gasping sob, but she kept hold of herself.

"Not anymore," he said, trying to reassure, "I should have called when I was ready, but I didn't."

"Because you thought it was too late?" she queried and he nodded again. "It's not too late, Jack."

He smiled and reached a fingertip up to her hair and tenderly brushing the long fringe out of her eyes. "So you said. You need a haircut, Colonel."

She chuckled, his joviality helping to reassure her, and it was so typical of Jack to try escaping from a subject he didn't feel comfortable about like that.

"Yes sir!" she exclaimed with a small salute, pleased she'd got this much from him. It was way more than she'd expected. "So, what about Daniel's party?" she asked, going along with his need to get away from that subject. "He'll be so disappointed if you don't go. We all will. Please say you'll come."

Jack drew in a deep ragged breath. "Will you rescue me if things get a little… too much?" he asked with a quirky smile. Although the response was spoken in a light-hearted manner, Sam knew there was some genuine need in the question. She resolved to speak to Daniel about keeping his behaviour and questions in check for Jack's sake. Daniel could press Jack too hard, and his hurt feelings and anger might make his penetrating interrogation worse than normal. Sam empathised with both of them and realised it would be Daniel's probing and censure that Jack would wish to avoid most of all.

"Yes, I'll rescue you. I'll stick to you like glue if you want, make sure you don't get hassled," she said with an affectionate smile.

Jack reached out and squeezed her arm, his head cocked to one side and a small half smile on his lips. Then he nodded. "Okay, I'll come."

"Good. I'll look forward to it."

"Me too, I think."

Now they were both back on an even keel Sam looked at her watch, clucking to herself. "Damn, I was hoping we might have more of that chocolate cake, but I've got to get back to the SGC."

Jack was disappointed she couldn't hang around for a while and watching her leave was so much harder than he thought it would be. As the door closed behind her, he sprung into action, catching up with her in the hall.

"Um, I'll walk you to your car?" he said with a slight query in his voice as if seeking permission.

"That would be nice," she replied, more than happy to accept that gesture of friendship, and pleased by it.

They didn't talk much but Jack tentatively placed his hand in the crook of her back as if to steer her to her destination. She smiled up at him as his hand touched, stirring memories from their shared past. Sam had always loved when Jack did that as her CO, steering her gently through the corridors of the SGC with a gentle touch that was close to forbidden – normally about as far as he could push it to show his affection for his second-in-command.

It had been a long time since he'd done that and the feel of his hand on her back made her shiver with a frisson of delight. It told her much more than Jack himself would say. It was his move in this game of chess they seemed to be playing.

When they reached her car door, Jack caught hold of her jacket to stop her. "Um, Sam, don't tell Daniel or Teal'c what I told you. I guess I'll have to tell them myself one day, just… not yet."

She agreed, flattered he'd confided in her while thinking Saturday night might be easier if Daniel knew, but she understood. "W-what sparked it all off Jack? What happened?" she ventured to ask.

He pursed his lips considering his response. At first she thought he wouldn't answer and Sam was quite taken aback when he finally spoke. "Let's just say I put myself in harms way and got harmed. It's classified."

She eyed him in amazement. "What? You went on some kind of mission? Not off-world, I'd have known."

"Of course not. Two star generals don't go on missions. It wasn't like that. But there's still plenty of danger right here on Earth. I, um, went missing for a while."

"Oh my God, I think I remember! We thought you were on vacation."

"Don't think the Pentagon wanted people to know one of their generals was missing." His tone was sardonic and his face bore a cheeky grin.

"Someone kidnapped you, captured you, what?" Her curiosity was overwhelming. She had to know.

"Sam, don't ask!" he cried, but when he saw her expression he sighed and decided to tell her a little more. "There was some pain and a sarcophagus involved," he said emotionlessly. The memory of it was painful to him but he fiercely tried to suppress that anguish.

"What? On Earth?" she asked with astonishment, and then considered further. "It can't have been Ba'al."

"No, it wasn't Ba'al. Way more sinister than that."

"Not Goa'uld at all," she replied, catching on quick to his hints. "Human. Trust, something…"

"Like that," he finished for her and she looked at him aghast. No wonder it was classified. Someone on Earth had got hold of a sarcophagus and, reading between the lines, was using it pretty much like Ba'al had when he'd captured Jack a few years ago.

She grasped his arm, looking worried. "They tortured you." Jack said nothing to confirm or deny. He'd already told her more than he'd imagined he ever would and it was actually quite cathartic, which surprised him.

He'd been taken, badly tortured and then resurrected again in the sarcophagus, just like had happened with Ba'al. Not as bad or as long-lasting as the Ba'al experience, but bad enough, and made worse by the fact that the atrocity had been carried out by humans with their own sinister agenda. They'd wanted information, just as Ba'al had, and they'd wanted to test the power of the sarcophagus that had fallen into their hands from who knew where. Jack knew almost everything there was to know about the Stargate program, so he had been their choice as guinea pig.

Ironically, it had been the NID who had come to his rescue. Jack dreaded to think what might have happened if the NID hadn't already been looking into the group of bastards who had taken him. His captors had become the captives and Jack had ensured the sarcophagus was destroyed, much to the annoyance of the NID, and O'Neill's superiors. No way, no how, had he wanted that dangerous temptation to become the subject of human experimentation. Too dangerous, too tempting.

Jack considered the experience to be the nail in his coffin as far as his career in the Air Force and his close involvement with the Stargate program were concerned. In the end the sarcophagus withdrawal and the later PTS, had proved to be too much. He had fought one last time, himself, his demons and nightmares, and the folks in DC, but this time he had lost the fight with himself, and as a result he'd lost everything that had been dear to him.

Jack still wasn't sure he'd fully recovered from that experience or loss yet and thought he probably never would. But one of the most precious things he'd lost was sitting right here now, talking to him about it and he realised he should be grateful for small mercies because he'd been given a chance to find something he'd believed had disappeared forever.

Sam loosed his arm and scrubbed her hands through her hair, stunned and tormented by his revelation. No wonder he'd got an acute case of PTS. "Final straw?" she asked, her voice quivering with pent up emotion, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "And now? Are you all right now?" Her obvious deep concern touched him in a way he thought he'd never be touched again and he let out a shaky sigh.

"Physically I'm fine, better than ever. All that crap about my knees and back, forget it!" he admitted with a small curve of a smile on his lips. That unsought outcome had been one of the ironies of his situation.

"But mentally?" she dared to probe, knowing it was this issue that was so hard for Jack to take, or talk about.

"I'm okay now. Mostly," he confessed in a small voice that moved her almost beyond words.

The urge she had to take him in her arms was almost overwhelming, but she resisted the impulse. She didn't dare to touch him. He'd exposed himself enough and she knew he wouldn't be able to take much more. Sam found it almost unbearable to imagine what he'd gone through, and what she was putting him through now. Although she was grateful for his confidence, that he had been willing to give her so much just because she'd asked, enough was enough.

When she thought back to what had happened between the small group of friends, Sam was filled with deep guilt and regret.

"Oh my god, and we just… if we’d known… we should have known something was… we were your friends and we abandoned you. You were right to be angry with us."

"Sam, stop already. We've been over this. Fault on both sides, remember?"

She frowned ruefully. "Seems there were sides after all. Jack, I'm so sorry. We should have been there for you."

"Don't," he responded, "it doesn't matter anymore. You're here now." Jack was more concerned with moving forward than raking over the ashes of the past. This was a fresh start and it meant a lot to him.

Sam gave him a weak smile. "Why are you telling me all this? It's not like you." She thought she'd ask that one final question while she was on a roll as she might never get this opportunity again.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips once more. "You're my friend aren’t you? What else are friends for?" he said, grasping the tops of her arms gently and leaning in to kiss her forehead softly before stepping back to let her go. She nodded as if she understood, but wasn't sure she did. Was this friendship or the start of something more? That question would nag at her for many weeks to come.

Out of the car mirror she could see him standing still and watchful as she drove away. He didn't move until she was out of his line of sight, and for all she knew he could have stood in the parking lot for a long time after that, deep in thought.

*****************************

Daniel Jackson's house in Colorado Springs:

It was an emotional reunion, way more emotional than Jack might normally have liked, but on this occasion he was moved by it.

When Daniel opened the door to find Jack standing there holding a crate of beer, his face broke out into the biggest grin Jack thought he'd ever seen. Taking the beer from Jack's arms, he placed it on the floor and then gave Jack a huge bear hug, accepting him back into his life as if he'd never been away. Initially, the stiffly nervous Jack was a reluctant recipient of that hug, but after a few awkward seconds he willingly allowed himself to relax into it, and return the compliment.

"It's good to see you, Jack. I'm glad you came."

"Nearly didn't."

"Yeah, I figured that." Daniel stood back and looked Jack up and down. "Come in! You're looking well," he said as he led him through the hall.

Jack was dreading the moment of walking into a room full of SGC members he hadn't been in touch with for way too long. They probably all thought he was a standoffish, arrogant jerk, but he'd come because he had to face up to them, and face Daniel's wrath. He was surprised, therefore, when he walked into the living room and Sam and Teal'c were the only people there.

"Um-er…" Jack stuttered, "I-I thought…"

"Sorry, I lied about the party," Sam confessed and Jack looked at her in amazement but his witty and sarcastic riposte was left unsaid when Teal'c approached and bowed his head.

"It is good to see you again, O'Neill." A glimmer of a smile crossed his lips as he rose from the bow, and Jack grinned.

"You too, old friend."

The two hugged briefly, thumping each other on the back in a manly fashion, which made Sam smirk with amusement, and Jack turned to face her. "So there never was a party?"

"No. I'm sorry I had to lie to you, but we thought you'd never come if…"

"If I thought it was just the three of you instead of a whole room of people?"

"You can't hide from just the three of us. In a room full of people you could play avoidance for hours," she explained truthfully.

Sam had expected him to be angry but to her surprise Jack laughed and, because laughter is contagious, in the end all of them were laughing in their individual ways. When the mirth died down, Jack demanded a drink from his host, who got him a beer, and he sat down at last.

"What?" Jack asked when he realised all three of his ex-team mates were looking at him.

"We got the band back together, as Mitchell might say," Daniel replied with a smile.

"Glad it makes you go to your happy place, Daniel."

"And what about you, Jack, how do you feel about it?"

'Here we go with that feelings crap again,' Jack thought. 'Daniel just loves to ask the awkward questions, but then he wouldn't be Daniel if he didn't.'

"It's good to see you all," Jack said aloud.

"Don't overwhelm us with your enthusiasm," Daniel quipped sarcastically.

"I mean it," Jack replied earnestly. "It's me who's overwhelmed."

Hiding behind his beer can, just as he had a cup of coffee a couple of weeks earlier, Jack tried to conceal the turbulent emotions this reunion had stirred up. Why had he kept away for so long? He'd just let things fall apart and then it had seemed too late to pick up the broken pieces.

In keeping with her promise, Sam sat next to Jack as if to protect him from too much scrutiny and too many questions. Jack was grateful and wondered what she'd said to Daniel that stopped the flow of questions he might normally have expected in this situation. The three members of SG-1 sensed Jack's unease and the conversation was too light and bright at first, with Jack remaining mainly silent but just watching the interactions of his old teammates.

"What's this?" Daniel asked with a grimace as he fished something out of Jack's beer crate. "It's soft and squishy." Whatever it might be was wrapped in aluminum and Daniel started to unfold it gingerly.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed, "I forget. I brought that along for Sam." He snatched it from Daniel's hands. "Thought you might like it," he said with a shy grin, handing it to her. Curiously she unwrapped it and squeaked with delight.

"Chocolate cake! Thanks," she said with a bright beam, leaning to whisper in his ear conspiratorially. "If you behave yourself tonight I might even share it with you later." Her wink was exaggerated and Jack laughed, watching with a smile as she carefully wrapped the cake up again.

"Chocolate cake?" Daniel enquired, hoping to be let in on the joke. Cake had been a private joke between the original members of SG-1 for a long time, but he didn't get the chocolate cake reference at all. Jack and Sam just looked at him, said nothing, and then exchanged secretive little smiles.

"Oh for Christ's sake you two, get a room!" Daniel exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"Daniel!" Both Jack and Sam cried out in unison, and Sam blushed a delicate shade of pink.

"I'm sorry, did I say that out loud?" Daniel replied, the picture of innocence.

"Stop! This isn't funny," Jack retorted, angrily. "There's nothing… Sam and I… Aw crap! I need a pee," he declared and sauntered out of the room as casually as he could in the circumstances.

"Told you he's still got it bad," Daniel said, turning towards Sam, a smirk on his face.

"How could you, Daniel? That was so… so embarrassing."

When Daniel realised the extent of her mortification he knew he'd humiliated both his friends. What had he been thinking? "I'm sorry, Sam, I thought…"

"Then don't think. Mind your own business," she snapped crossly.

"I'm sorry," Daniel repeated, rising from his chair, "I'll go apologise to Jack."

Sam was close to trying to stop him, but anger made her think better of it. If Daniel wished to encounter the wrath of O'Neill, that was his problem. There was only so much she could do to protect any of them from each other. She wanted them all to be friends again, but maybe it simply wasn't possible anymore. If not, she would deeply regret it, although if Daniel screwed up the progress she'd already made with Jack, O'Neill's wrath would be the least of his problems.

She exchanged a look with Teal'c and shook her head in answer to the question in his eyes. Clearly he was having similar thoughts about stopping Daniel, but it was no more his responsibility to make things go smoothly than it was hers. This was Daniel's house and he was host. Let him live with any consequences of his actions.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom Jack doused his face in cold water and took a few deep breaths. Sam had promised to protect him, but he should have been protecting her. What the hell was Daniel playing at for crying out loud? How could he think…? Sam had been as embarrassed as hell, and who could blame her? They were friends and that was all they ever would be. His thoughts on the subject were somewhat rueful but he decided he shouldn't dwell, and dried his face, knowing he had to return to face the music, despite his almost overwhelming desire to cut and run. He owed it to Sam to make an effort, just as she had.

Jack figured he shouldn't have been surprised to find Daniel lurking outside waiting for him and sighed resignedly to his fate.

"I'm sorry Jack. I shouldn't have…"

"You embarrassed Sam. Sometimes you can be such a jerk."

"Look who's talking. Why the hell haven't you asked her out? All this time outside of her chain of command and you never even called her. Who's the jerk?"

"Daniel, it really is none of your business," Jack snapped.

"That's what Sam says, but you are both friends…"

"But are we friends anymore?" Jack countered snarkily.

"I hope so. I'd like us to be. Wouldn't you?"

Jack was taken aback by the sorrowful and regretful look in Daniel's eyes and it knocked the anger right out of him. "Yes. Yes, I would," he admitted, surprising Daniel with the open and raw truthfulness in those few words.

"Then why didn't you…?" And despite the question remaining unspoken, Jack knew what he was asking. Why didn't you make the effort? Why did you push us away?

"It's complicated. Don't ask. One day I might tell you all about it, but not today," he replied in a firm but conciliatory tone.

The younger man smiled winningly. "I guess it doesn't really matter anymore. You're here now," he said, thinking of the conversation he'd had with Sam about how they should tackle this encounter. She'd advised him not to press for answers, not to push Jack away again through accusations born from his hurt feelings. She'd been right.

"I-I just want you and Sam…" he added, tailing off again. Push, press. Sheesh, he couldn't seem to help himself.

"That's never going to happen. Why would it?" Jack responded, immediately defensive again.

"Why wouldn't it?" Daniel replied and Jack simply regarded him archly, and said nothing. Maybe that was a good question, but he wasn't going to answer.

"Just leave it," Jack said after a lengthy pause and Daniel nodded agreement. Silently, they returned to join the others and tried to pretend Daniel's comments had never been uttered.

It was Teal'c who turned the conversation to Jack's current profession with a perfectly innocent question. "What is this literature that you teach, O'Neill?"

Jack hesitated before answering, slurping some beer during the pause. "The art of the written word, Teal'c." Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Daniel was itching to say something, but his Jaffa friend beat him to the punch.

"What manner of written word?" he asked, perfectly seriously.

"Books, T, many different kinds," Jack said, wondering if Teal'c really didn't know or was being polite. "Classical, nineteenth century American, Shakespeare…"

"Why do warriors need to learn of such things?"

Jack smiled, prepared to defend his corner. "Leadership starts with effective communication. Can't communicate and you're screwed. Great literature is communication as deliberate human endeavour. Imagination is key, as are skills in analytical and argumentative writing and thought, research methodology, critical reading. That's what literature is all about."

Teal'c looked thoughtful and while he hesitated, Daniel leapt in. "You sound like an Academy brochure, not Jack O'Neill, except maybe for the screwed part." His tone was slightly sarcastic.

"The Air Force is more than just brute force, Daniel, you know that," Jack retorted.

"Sure it is. I just can't believe my old friend Jack O'Neill is saying that. Did we ever really know you?"

"Ah, I see, you're pissed with me for never letting on about my brain, huh?" Jack responded, riled by Daniel's words. "Is that all you ever thought I was capable of, brute force?"

Sam intervened quickly, worried about how the exchange might escalate. "I'm sure Daniel didn't mean…"

"To infer he always thought I was stupid?" Jack interrupted acerbically.

"No I didn't mean it like that!" Daniel said hastily, and he hadn't. "I never thought you were stupid." Jack glanced at him accusingly and Daniel looked shamefaced. "Well, maybe a long time ago I did, but… Okay, you're right. I'm pissed you never gave us a clue." Jack smirked knowingly at Daniel's capitulation.

"I do not recall seeing any great works of literature in your house, O'Neill," Teal'c said, catching Jack by surprise.

"What, are you ganging up on me now?" he whined. "I do Warrior as Hero and some other war literature related tutorials, if that makes you feel any better."

"Guys, please!" Sam exclaimed, her protective instincts kicking in. "Stop giving Jack such a hard time." Her hand grasped Jack's lower thigh, squeezed, and then withdrew, and Jack found his heart thudding at the touch. Recovering quickly, he turned to face her and smiled.

"It's okay, Sam, I've had worse hard times. More beer, mien host?" he asked, eyeing Daniel, who decided a change of subject might be more diplomatic. Now they'd found Jack again, he had no wish to drive him away. This evening was about reunion and reconciliation – explanations, arguments and recriminations could wait for another day.

After that, the conversation turned to more light-hearted and safer topics, like base gossip, The Simpson's, movies and the like. Jack was at his wittiest best and his warmth melted any remaining frosty resentments. It was good to have him back.

*****************************

On P4X-928:

Sam's mind was on training programs and what they could do to teach these trainees to be more furtive. To her ears they sounded like a herd of small elephants as they trekked to the rendezvous with O'Neill. She thought they must be close now as she could see the shimmering of the lake beyond the trees and the edge of the Stargate's ring.

A tall lean figure slid out gracefully from behind the trees and stood in their path, looking at them irately. "For crying out loud Carter, did you guys plan to wake the dead? I could hear you five minutes ago," he said in a loud whisper, eyeing the trainees disdainfully. "What is it about the word stealth you don't understand exactly?" he asked and the four looked pained.

"Sorry, sir…" Taylor started to say but Jack raised his hands to silence him.

"Shut it, Taylor, I think they probably heard that all the way to Earth." He signalled for Carter to approach.

"Have any trouble?" he asked in a low voice.

"No sir, everything's fine.&