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.

Jack ushered Sam through the halls, his eyes constantly darting over to her. She was uncharacteristically quiet; in fact, he didn't remember her saying much from the time they'd retrieved her few belongings from Ry'ac's house.

"Ry'ac's got himself a hell of a family," Jack said, returning the nods of the people in the hall. He doubted that many of them even knew who his companion was. After all, it had been nearly four years since she'd last walked these halls.

Sam silently nodded and he felt her edge closer to him as SG-3 walked past. Jack frowned, not used to her being so timid. "Hey," he said, grasping her hand as soon as the Marines were past. "They don't bite you know."

"I'm just not used to so many people," she said softly.

He nodded, pausing to summon the elevator. "We won't be here very long," he reassured. The car arrived and he ushered her in, pushing the button for level twenty-one.

"I'm fine," she protested, divining their destination.

"Sam, it's been four years," he said. "Humor me."

The elevator door opened and he led her out, guiding her towards the infirmary. "Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, this is Doctor Carolyn Lam," he introduced as the doctor caught sight of them and made her way across the room. "Doctor Lam replaced Doctor Brightman," he explained.

"General O'Neill," Lam acknowledged. "Colonel Carter." She smiled, shoving her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And a lot of it is true," Jack said, keeping his tone light. He could see the tenseness in Sam's shoulders. A wariness in her stance. He wished that he could say that he was surprised but he wasn't. He knew that it had to be hard for her. Not only to come back from the dead, but to also return to a place that had been so much a part of her life - a place that had carried on without her. "I need to go talk to Landry," he said, smiling at Sam.

"Who?" she asked, frowning at him.

"Hank Landry. He's running the place now," Jack replied.

"You're not?"

"Not anymore," Jack said. He laid his hand on her shoulder, hoping to reassure her. "It's a long story. You'll be just fine here with Doctor Lam." Jack turned his attention to the doctor. "I'll be back in about an hour," he said.

"Yes, sir." She turned towards Sam. "Colonel, if you'd come with me we'll get started." Sam looked at him and Jack nodded, not sure if he was giving her permission or promising her that she'd be safe.

Her shoulders slumped a bit and she moved away from him. He watched as she followed Doctor Lam, not leaving the infirmary until both of them were sequestered behind a privacy curtain. He hurried from the room, his long legs making short work of the corridor.

True, he'd told the women that he wouldn't be back for an hour, but the sooner he could get this meeting over the sooner he could get back down here, get back to Sam.

In his mind, he knew his fear was irrational, that she wasn't going anywhere. But in his heart, he could still remember the sickening sound of silence. The desperation of an empty wormhole. The painful realization that he'd failed them - let them down.

He wasn't going to do it again. Somehow, through some miracle of fate, he had her back. And he wasn't going to lose her again.

/\/\/\/\/\

Hank sighed and scrawled his name. Mrs. Mendelhson would be so disappointed. She'd spent the better part of a year teaching him penmanship and how to perfectly form the letters of his name. A name that was now little more than a sprawling scratching of ink on the paper.

He heard a knock and looked up, gratefully setting his paperwork aside. "Jack. Come in." He waved the other general into his office. There were still boxes in the corner and a few of the walls were mostly bare, adorned only by naked nails. "Forgive the mess."

Jack shrugged as he sat down. "It's no worse than when I packed up," he said. "Amazing how much crap you accumulate in a couple of years. I hope I'm not interrupting," he said, pushing aside the small talk and getting down to business. Which was precisely what Hank expected. Jack never was one for meaningless chitchat.

"Nothing I don't want interrupted," Hank said. "I understand that your mission was a success? I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet her." He gestured towards the red telephone sitting to his left. "You know how it is."

"All too well," Jack agreed.

"How is she?"

"She's up with Doctor Lam right now," Jack said. "But she seems ok."

"That's good," Hank said. "I hope I get a chance to meet her."

"It probably won't take Lam very long. If you have a few minutes-"

"Actually, I don't," Hank interrupted. He nodded towards the window and the SG team members milling around. "I have a briefing with SG-8 in a few minutes."

"Well then I'll let you go-"

"Hang on," Hank stopped Jack from getting to his feet. He picked up a folder and handed it to Jack. "That's what I was on the phone about." Jack took it. "Colonel Carter's status has been changed from MIA to active duty. I don't know if I can do anything about four years worth of back pay, but the President and Joint Chiefs are willing to sign off on her having a full retirement at the rank of full Colonel in deference to all her contributions to this command."

"That's great, Hank, thanks." Jack glanced into the folder then shut it. "I'll let you get on with your briefing." He got to his feet.

"Are you taking Colonel Carter home?"

Jack nodded. "Presuming that she doesn't have an issue with it."

"I can't see why she would."

Hank got up and pulled a folder off Walter's neatly stacked pile. "Duty calls. But if you need something, let me know," he offered.

"I will, thanks."

Jack left the office and Hank stared after him for a second before shaking his head. "I hope you get your happy ending," he muttered before leaving his office and opening the door to the briefing room.

/\/\/\/\/\

A shape in the doorway caught her eyes and Carolyn looked up. Realizing whom it was, she waved him in, holding her finger to her lips to urge him to be silent. He walked into her office and she shut the door. "Sir."

"Doc?"

"Nothing's wrong," she said interpreting the alarm that flashed across his face. "I just don't want her knowing that we're talking about her."

"How is she?"

Carolyn retook her seat and urged him to sit as well. "So far, everything looks good," she said. "She's a bit underweight and I'm sure she's anemic, but she seems in good general health."

He sighed, his relief plain to see. "That's good to hear."

Carolyn smiled. "I thought you'd like that news," she said. "I didn't have time for an in-depth exam, and frankly I don't think she's in the mood for one. There are a few scars that weren't a part of her medical record, but all seem to be relatively old and healed. The blood work should be back tomorrow sometime and I can let you know if it shows anything but….all in all, she's fine."

"Can we go then?" he asked.

Carolyn shrugged. "Sure." Jack got to his feet, eager to rejoin Sam. "Sir?" She called him back before he could open the door. "When she's ready, I know a couple of good plastic surgeons. I don't know if they can remove the scar on her face totally, but they can probably reduce it. Make it less noticeable."

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

Jack opened the door and left her office while Carolyn trailed in his wake. "She's over there, sir," she directed, pointing out a shrouded bed. "And she's free to go whenever she feels like it."

"That's good to hear, Doc. I owe you one," he said, keeping up the fallacy that they hadn't just spoken privately. "Sam?" he paused just outside the curtain. "You ready?"

She pulled the curtain back and stood there, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah."

Jack stood beside her, holding out one arm to guide her. "Let's blow this Popsicle stand, huh?" he suggested.

The pair of them left the infirmary and Carolyn watched them go for a second before she crossed over to the deserted bed, efficiently balling up the bed linens. From her first day at the SGC, she'd heard the stories. She knew all about the famed SG-1 and their missions were the stuff of legends. Stories that seemed better suited to a TV movie.

Colonel Carter, Doctor Jackson and Teal'c were the stuff of legends. But somehow the quiet woman with the long hair and scarred face didn't seem very legendary to her. She seemed heartbreakingly ordinary.

And maybe that was just what O'Neill saw in her. He didn't see a legend, he saw a woman.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sam sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the darkened scenery flash by. It was night in Colorado Springs and only the streetlights and illuminated signs chased away the darkness.

She shivered, her leather leggings and woolen tunic no match for the current conditions. "The heat will kick in in a minute," Jack said, taking hand off the wheel to manipulate the controls. "I should have grabbed you a jacket, I'm sorry," he said.

"It's ok," she said, glancing over at him.

"No, it's not. I kinda forgot that it was cold," he said. They stopped at an intersection, the traffic heavy even though it was late.

"I don't remember this," she said.

"I don't think it existed when you left," he said. "There have actually been a lot of new stores built lately. Old Chicago, Red Robin, about fifteen Starbucks. Oh, and there's a Krispy Kreme in Fountain now."

"Teal'c liked those," she said, surprised to hear the words coming out of her mouth. She never talked about Teal'c, hadn't even mentioned his name out loud for years. She felt Jack looking at her, his attention divided between her and the traffic.

"He did have a sweet tooth, didn't he," he finally said. Sam nodded. "It always amazed me. This big hulking Jaffa, ready to kill people with his bare hands who was also a sugar junkie."

Sam grinned slightly. "He used to do his best to talk me out of my rations," she said. "The best way to get out of KP was to pack an extra handful of Laffy Taffy."

"So that's where he got his jokes from," Jack said, applying pressure to the accelerator as the light changed. "I knew his humor was lame."

"He'd send them in," she said. "I don't know if any every got accepted." Her voice trailed off, the pain of her friend's absence striking her in the gut. She missed him. Missed him so much that it hurt.

She closed her eyes, seeing again the calm acceptance on his face as he stood there, passively waiting for her to grant his last wish, waiting for her to kill him. She uncrossed her arms and rubbed her hands together, hoping to gain a little warmth from the friction of callous' rubbing over callous'. The light from a street lamp flooded the cab for a second, making the light flesh of her hands flare white in the darkness.

Dirty, they were so dirty. Teal'c's blood stained them, a stain that she'd never be able to erase. She'd murdered him, murdered her friend.

"Do you want one?" Jack's voice broke into her thoughts.

"What?"

"The KK's right over there. Want a donut?"

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Ok." He changed lanes. "We'll be home in a few minutes."

Sam fell silent, sitting back as the fan started to blast out luke warm air. She turned her eyes out the window, struggling to find something familiar, something to confirm that she really was home. That it wasn't some dream, some fantasy.

Maybe she was like Daniel, lost in the hallucinations of his fevered mind. Maybe she was still on the planet, asleep in her cot in the attic. Maybe she'd finally lost her mind, finally succumbed to the insanity that had beckoned her for years, that had teased her ever since that terrifying moment when the wormhole shut down.

"It's real," Jack said.

"What?" She turned back to look at him.

"You're wondering if it's a dream or something. It's not. It's real. You're home."

"How do you-"

"Hey, three months on Edora, another one with Harry. Four…somewhere a lot worse. I know how it feels."

"I guess you do," she said softly.

"One step at a time," he said. "Go home, get something to eat, a good night's sleep, then we'll go from there." He stopped at a stop sign and reached over, laying his hand on her leg. "One step at a time. No hurry, no pressure."

"Ok," she agreed, soothed by the tone of his voice and the promise in his tone.

He squeezed her leg and turned his attention back to the road. He removed his hand and Sam shivered again, missing the warmth. He brushed his fingers over the radio controls, turning it on and filling the cab with soft music.

Sam sighed softly, aware that the music would preclude the need to talk. Dry heat blasted out of the vents and she blinked, her eyes suddenly dry. She wasn't used to this. Dry heat, soft cushions, electricity. It was so bright. She'd forgotten just how un-dark the night was in a city.

They drove through another busy intersection and Sam closed her eyes, suddenly unable to handle the assault. She could hear the throaty hum of the engine, just barely audible over the radio. The tires made an odd clicking sound as they rolled over cracks in the pavement. The air from the heater washed over her face, making her skin feel hot and tight. It smelled dusty, like maybe the truck hadn't been washed in a while or that maybe Colorado was in the middle of one of its infamous short droughts.

Everything she heard was familiar, but also alien. She couldn't smell the wood fire that Sy'nac kept burning in the hearth. She couldn't hear Jak'ron's giggles and broken childish words. She couldn't smell Nesa's porridge simmering in its pot. The fabric under her body bore little resemblance to the soft woolen blankets Sy'nac made.

She was home, but she wasn't.

The truck stopped and Sam opened her eyes, blinking slightly. "Here we are," Jack said needlessly, turning off the engine. Sam absently reached over, struggling a bit to release the catch on the seat belt. She opened the door and slid out, shivering again as she left the warm confines of the truck.

Jack appeared at her side, smoothly sliding his jacket off and wrapping it around her shoulders. He led her up the walk, pausing to push the key into the lock. He ushered her into the house, closing the door behind them. "I would imagine that you want to get cleaned up," he said, tossing his keys onto the table.

"A bathtub?" she asked, the idea of gallons of hot water and her soaking in it suddenly sounding as appealing as a ten course meal.

"Right where it was last time," he said, smiling. "Take your time. I'm going to go see if I can round up something for you to wear."

Sam walked down the hall, leaving Jack behind as she made her way to the bathroom. Once there, she slid out of the jacket, carefully hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. She crossed to the bathtub, dropping the plug into the drain and turning on the taps. She took a moment to watch, placing her fingers in the stream of water, marveling at the mundane magic that not only had clean water gushing out of the pipes, but that it was hot as well. It swirled into the bottom of the tub, bubbling and roiling.

It smelled clean, not like the water she was used to. Ry'ac used the water from the stream to bathe and it was rare that it was ever more than a simple sponge bath. There simply weren't enough hours in the day to carry gallons and gallons of water, not to mention wasting the wood to heat it.

She got up and started taking off her clothes, her fingers fumbling in her eagerness. Naked, she stepped into the tub, her toes curling against the bottom as she sank down into the filling tub. She stretched out, the water covering her legs.

Steam rose and she breathed deep, pausing a second before she reached for the soap. She raised it to her face, smelling it. She'd missed that too, scented soap. It smelled good, a combination of pine and sandalwood. It smelled like Jack.

She dipped the soap into the water and worked it into a lather, reaching for the scrubby that was hanging from a hook on the side of the tub. She scrubbed herself, enjoying the rough feeling of the nylon mesh as it rubbed over her skin.

She rinsed off the lather, her eyes catching sight of the damp ends of her hair. It was longer and she knew that it desperately needed a wash. The tub was now full and she turned off the water before laying back, ducking her head underwater. Grabbing Jack's shampoo, she washed her hair, laying back in the water to rinse it out.

She sat back up and, seeing Jack's razor on the edge of the sink, she stepped out of the tub and retrieved it, the need to be clean superceding any hesitation in using his stuff. Ten minutes later, she reluctantly pulled the plug on the tub and got out. Realizing that she didn't have anything clean to wear, she settled for drying herself off, using one towel to dry her hair while she wrapped the other around her like a sarong.

There was a knock on the door and it opened slightly. "I found this," Jack said, sticking his hand through the crack. Sam reached out and took the clothing. "I'm gonna go see what there is to eat," he said, pulling the door shut.

Alone again, Sam set the clothes down on the closed toilet lid and examined it. She frowned, realizing that it seemed familiar. She pulled out a pair of panties and recognized them as hers. She shook out the sweat pants and t-shirt and recognized them too.

Wondering what he was doing with her clothes and realizing that only he could answer it, she got dressed. The elastic rubbed against her skin. She wasn't used to that either. Jaffa didn't have elastic and everything either fit loose or tied. Even the underwear lying on the floor tied on the side.

She picked up and folded the clothes, unable to just abandon them. Sy'nac had woven the shirt and the leather of the leggings Sam had cured herself.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes settling on the ridge of the scar. She couldn't go out, not like this.

Fumbling through the medicine cabinet, she found a comb. She unwrapped her hair and combed it out, careful to part it on one side so that it fell across her face, disguising the scar a bit.

Knowing that she couldn't stay in the bathroom forever, she hung up the two towels and opened the door. She padded into the living room, stopping short at the sight of Jack seated in a chair, an open box in front of him. "What are you doing?" she asked, staring at the piles of clothes.

"Most of this stuff seems ok, but I think it could use a freshening up," he said, looking up at her. "Maybe I'll run it through the laundry tomorrow."

"Why do you have my clothes?" she asked, picking up one of her favorite sweatshirts. Daniel had bought it for her years ago in Seattle after they'd rescued her from Adrian Conrad. They hadn't been able to find her clothes and she'd been cold, so Daniel had run into a local gift shop, emerging with a too large but fantastically warm sweatshirt emblazoned with the Mariner's logo.

"We packed up your house," he said.

"We?"

"Mark and I," Jack clarified. "We had a few words. I believed that you were coming home, he didn't, so we compromised." Jack got to his feet. "We sold your house and Mark put the money in trust for the kids, just like you wanted. I kept your stuff. Most of it's been in storage but…I retrieved this a couple of days ago. I figured you'd want it when you came home."

"What if I hadn't?" she asked.

Jack shrugged. "Then it'd be up to me to sort through things and dispose of them," he said. "Hey, I bet you're hungry." He changed the subject with breakneck speed. "I've got some soup, maybe a sandwich. We could even order in. Are you in the mood for Chinese?"

"A sandwich is fine," she said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the choices. Sy'nac and
Ry'ac rarely had a choice of what they ate. Dinner was what you caught, traded for or shot. And their greatest concern was less what you ate and more that you did eat.

"Sandwich it is," he agreed. He went into the kitchen leaving her to follow. She did and slid into a chair as Jack dug in the refrigerator, pulling out bread, meat and cheese.
He made two sandwiches and set them on plates, putting one in front of her and one across from her. Sam picked up her sandwich, the texture of the bread odd under her fingertips. The soft white bread was nothing like the coarse whole grain bread that was a staple at Ry'ac's house.

Jack reached up and plucked a couple of bags of chips off the top of the refrigerator. He set them down between them and opened the refrigerator door. Sam raised her eyebrows as he set two cans of diet Coke on the table. "I've acquired the taste," he said, finally sitting down.

He picked up his sandwich, taking a large bite. Sam ate a lot slower, taking the time to reacquaint herself with the taste and textures of the food. "What happens now?" she asked, setting down her half eaten sandwich.

Jack shrugged, looking at his watch. "Well, it's not too late. We could watch a little TV, catch up on things."

Sam shook her head, her still damp hair falling across her face. "I mean, what happens to me?" She looked up at him. "I doubt I'm going back to work."

"If you want to, I'm sure something can be arranged but." He shrugged. "We can start small if you want to, see if there's an apartment out there that you like. Something low maintenance so that you don't have to mess with lawn work and all that. Actually that's what Landry and I talked about, at least in a way. The Air Force is more than willing to let you retire, with full benefits. You can take the money and start over."

"Start over," she said, her voice small as his words sank in. Find an apartment. Start over. She didn't want to start over. She'd done that a few too many times in her life. She'd started over after her mother died. After she broke up with Jonas. After the Stargate program had been shut down. After Edora. After the zatarc. After Thera. After Daniel died. After he'd come back. She'd started over with Kalina.

She was tired of starting over.

"Or not," Jack said, seeming to catch her mood. He reached out and grabbed her hand. "Sam, nothing has to happen right away. Take some time, chill out, catch up. Me case, su casa. You can stay here as long as you want."

She pulled her hand out from his and got to her feet, ignoring his attempts to extract his foot from his mouth. He didn't want her here, fine. She didn't want to be the object of anyone's pity. "I'm aah, I'm kinda tired," she said, latching on the first excuse she could think of.

"Right," he said, also getting to his feet. "Let me go and make up the spare room."
He hurried from the room and she sank back down into the chair, her legs shaking slightly. Her stomach growled and she rubbed her it, realizing that it had been several hours since she'd eaten.

She opened one of the bags of chips and put a handful on the plate beside her half-eaten sandwich. She then grabbed the unopened diet Coke and got back to her feet, intent upon taking her snack with her. Food was food and you ate when you could.

Take some time. She'd take some time all right. Nice quiet time by herself. Time to regroup and figure out exactly what the hell she was going to do with herself now.

/\/\/\/\/\

Jack rolled over, an unfamiliar noise pulling him from a sound sleep. He reached for his nightstand, his hand falling back to the mattress when he remembered that it was probably Sam.

He pushed back the covers and sat on the side of the bed. He was torn. He wanted to go out there, hell he wanted to have her in here but he couldn't do that. He couldn't take advantage of her that way.

He knew how she felt. She was shaky, unsure, off balance. She probably felt vulnerable and likely all too aware of her situation. She didn't have anywhere to live, no money, no car, hell the only clothes she had were the ones he packed away.

She was dependant on him. And that was the reason that he had to do everything in his power to get her back on her own two feet as quickly as possible. He wasn't just doing this for her, he was doing it for himself.

He heard more noise from outside and he sighed, realizing that he couldn't keep ignoring it. He got to his feet and padded over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and put them on, acknowledging that he just couldn't prowl around in his boxers right now.

Taking a moment, he pulled open the drawer of the nightstand and picked up a small box. He opened it and looked inside, granting himself a small reprieve to remind himself just why he was doing what he was doing.

Taking a deep breath, he shut the box and returned it to its place. He left his bedroom and made his way into the livingroom. Sam was kneeling in front of one of the boxes and had clothes piled on the floor. "Need a hand?" he offered, doing his best to keep his tone light.

Sam looked up, her hand going to her chest in startlement. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Jack shrugged. "No biggie. I rarely sleep through the night anyway. Whatcha up to?" He sat down on the couch, deliberately keeping his distance.

"I just though I'd sort through this," she said. She looked up and him, then looked down. Jack noticed that she tilted her head, doing her best to keep her hair spilling across her face. "See what all I need and…well I don't know what I'll do if I need something else. I mean I don't exactly have a lot of options at the moment. Maybe Mark can loan me some money or something and--"

"Stop," he interrupted. He got off the couch and knelt beside her. He reached up and touched her hair, brushing it away from her face and tucking the long strands behind her ear. "Don't hide from me."

"Jack, I-" She tried to pull away.

"It doesn't matter to me," he said, tracing the ridge of the scar as he tried to put all the sincerity he could muster into his voice. "All I care about is that you're here. You're alive and you're home."

"Jack, stop," she said. "You've made yourself perfectly clear. I'll try to get out of your hair as quickly as I can. Maybe there's some base housing over at Peterson I can get into."

"Come here," he said, pulling her to her feet. He grasped one hand and led her to the bedroom. Guiding her to sit on the bed, he opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the small black box. He knelt in front of her and opened it, revealing the ring he'd first shown her four years ago.

"We could end up with someone a lot worse?" he asked, barely waiting until Daniel and Teal'c were out of the room to tease her.

"I said it didn't come out right," she said, a flush coloring her cheeks. "You're going to make a good general." She looked away from him, the emotion in her eyes not matching the tone of her voice.

"It does kinda screw up our plans though," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Is there a day when our plans haven't been screwed up?" She shook her head slightly, stepping back. "Maybe it's time to accept that some things were just never meant to be."

Her expression was downfallen and Jack knew what she meant. After seven years and three alternate universes, it seemed that this one had the cards stacked against them.

"Or you tell fate to bite me and you take care of things yourself," he said. She frowned at him and he took a deep breath, well aware that he was flirting with fire at the moment.
There were things that, once said, couldn't be unsaid, done, couldn't be undone. And he was about to do one of those things. He pulled a small fake velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, holding it out in front of him. Her eyes grew wide and Jack took a moment to enjoy catching her off guard. It wasn't often that he got to do that. "Six months," he said, looking her in the eyes. "Give me six months to round up a new CO for this place and then I'll make good on this promise."

"I've carried this with me every day since I met Kalina and realized that you were alive. This is why I didn't quit like I wanted to. As long as I was at the SGC I could keep tabs on things. I could hear the reports and read the briefings first hand, not some sanitized and edited version.

As soon as we knew the last goa'uld, the last major one anyway, was dead, that's when I called Hank. The last thing I did as commander of Stargate Command was to retrieve one very important missing officer." Jack squeezed her hand, making sure that he had her attention. "And if she hadn't have come back to Earth with me, I was prepared to stay off world with her. Sam, we've already lost ten years of our lives, I don't want to lose any more."

She shook her head, not making any attempt to take the ring. "But all the talk about an apartment and-"

"If I had my way, we would have rounded up the base chaplain and had him marry us the second you set foot on the ramp. I want nothing more than to make you my wife. But I also don't want you to marry me because you don't have anything else to do.

I love you just as much as I did the first day I put this ring on your finger. But I don't know if you still feel the same way."

"Daniel and Teal'c-"

"Daniel and Teal'c died because I was too much of a wuss to make a decision. You, and they, did what you had to to survive. If anyone is responsible for their deaths, it's me."

She shook her head. "Ba'al killed them. He killed Daniel and he…" Her voice broke and she covered her mouth with her hands. He got off the floor and sat beside her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I killed him," she mumbled into his neck, letting him pull her close.

"Daniel was sick." She shook her head again and Jack realized what she was talking about. "You did exactly what he wanted."

She pulled away from him, extricating herself from his arms. "I killed Teal'c," she said. "He was alive and standing there - unarmed - and I took my zat and I shot him. And I shot him again and I shot him again. I murdered him."

Jack reached out and took her shoulders. "You saved him. You gave him exactly what he wanted. You gave him peace. I'm willing to bet his only regret was that he left you two behind to fight without him. What you did for Teal'c wasn't murder, it was mercy. And there's no greater gift."

She stared at him for a few seconds before her eyes closed and her shoulders slumped. Recognizing her acceptance of his words he again pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. He felt her sink against him, warm tears running down his bare chest.

He closed his eyes and let himself focus on the simple feeling of having her in his arms. It was something he'd honestly never thought he'd feel again. Her here, warm and alive.
He ran his hands up and down her back, seeking to soothe her tears. "I don't hate you," he said, anticipating her feelings. "I don't think I could ever hate you. I'm sorry that I screwed up, that I didn't get you home like I should have. I'm sorry that I wasn't there with you guys, that I couldn't keep it from happening."

"I hated you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"I know."

"You left us behind."

Her quiet accusation stung and he tightened his grip. "I know," he said.

"You feel sorry for me."

"NO!" he said sharply. He loosened his grip and put his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. "I don't pity you. I'll never pity you. You're not here because I feel sorry for you, you're here because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And if I have to tell you this ten times a day to make you believe me, I will," he promised.

He fought to keep his frustration from his voice, at a loss as to what it would take to convince her. She was so damn stubborn. It was probably why she was still alive. But, right now, it didn't make him feel any better.

"I think once is enough," she said, wiping her face with her hands. He stared, not quite sure what she was saying. "Maybe twice if it's a bad day."

"Sam?"

"Can we just have a long engagement, maybe a few months? I think I need to get caught up with things first before I try to plan a wedding."

"Yeah, we can do that." Jack grinned, barely able to believe that she'd said yes. "Next week, next month, next year. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here." He fumbled on the bed, finding the jeweler's box and pulling the ring out with suddenly clumsy fingers. Sam held out her hand and let him slide the ring onto her finger.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've dreamed about doing this?" he asked, ignoring that his voice shook a bit. The ring slipped over her knuckle and came to a rest at the base of her finger, rolling slightly, fitting loosely. He'd have to fix that, put some meat on her bones so that her ring fit better.

"Really? See, I've had a different dream." Sam leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips meeting his.

Jack groaned, surrendering to the feeling, finally accepting the idea that his dream had come true and his love was finally home.

/\/\/\/\/\

Hours later, Sam sat beside the bed, listening to Jack sleep. She breathed deep, savoring the smell that was uniquely his.

Outside, a car with the radio playing too loud blasted down the street. Two cats howled at each other and a helicopter circled high over head.

Outside it was chaos.

But that didn't matter. She wasn't outside. She was here. She was home.

~Fin~

Feedback:sky_diver119@yahoo.com

HOME