Oy; did his fron hurt! Jack made some adjustments to the crystals in the engine core as Carter watched. "Gimme your zat," he said. She handed it over and he aimed it at the crystals, giving them a boost. "There you go."

"Sir," Carter said, "I think you should know that General Hammond authorized me to take command of the team if I determined that you ..."

"Do it now," Jack said. He could feel his mind slipping away from him - the last thing he needed was someone expecting command decisions.

"Sir, I don't think that's necessary ...," Carter objected.

"I trust you," Jack said. More than anyone he'd ever known. "I'll make it easy for you. I resign. You're in charge."

"Okay." Carter paused. "Sir; at your house before Daniel and Teal'c showed up, what I was gonna say was ..."

"I know." Jack slammed the rack of crystals back into place, his fron now screaming from all the information flooding into it. He couldn't deal with Carter - with Sam - now.

And he did know. He wasn't stupid. He knew.

+++++++++++++++

Several months later:

"O'Neill, the weapon worked," Thor reported from his ship. "Reports from the colony say all the remaining Replicators have been neutralized. While the ship did escape, at least we have an effective means of fighting them now."

Great. Freakin' great. In the meantime, Sam's missing - trapped somewhere with that SOB Fifth. "Yeah, well, at least there's that."

"O'Neill - I am detecting a fourth life sign in your immediate vicinity."

Sam?

Jack, Teal'c (with hair!) and Daniel spread out, looking for a certain blonde Major.

"Sam!" Daniel shouted. "Sam!"

"Carter!" Jack hollered. So help me, Sam; you'd better not be dead. Jack had had a lot of time to think after he'd let that sucker suck his brain, and it was time to make some changes.

"Over here!" Teal'c shouted.

Jack and Daniel ran over and saw Teal'c helping Carter sit up. Blonde hair disheveled, wearing a black tank and BDUs, she'd never looked so great to one bird Colonel as she did right now.

"You okay?" Jack asked, putting a gentle hand to her thigh. She was real! She was alive!

Carter nodded her head with a small smile, her large eyes flickering over his face. "Glad to see you, sir," she said.

"Likewise," Jack replied. Really glad to see you, Sam. God, those eyes! Just before he'd taken the big snooze, he'd stared into those baby blues, imprinting them onto his rapidly unspooling mind. He took her hand and drew her gently to her feet. "Time to go home, huh, Carter?"

She smiled again. "Yes, sir," she replied.

+++++++++++++++

Sam Carter curled up on the weird shelf-thing the Asgard used as beds and shivered. She didn't think she was ever going to feel warm again. In fact ... the only bit of her that wasn't frozen was her thigh, where the Colonel had touched her gently.

"Hey, Carter; ya decent?" the man himself called from outside her quarters.

She sat up and swung her legs onto the floor. "Yes, sir," she replied.

The door opened and one Jack O'Neill - hale, hearty and handsome (Shut up, Sam!) - strolled in, arms full of blankets. "Figured you'd be cold, Carter," he said, dropping them on the bed.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, grabbing one of the blankets and dragging it around her shoulders. She looked at him as he sat down beside her. "Couldn't sleep, sir?"

He grimaced. "I think after doing the Rip Van Winkle thing for three months, I'm not gonna need to sleep for weeks." Then his features sagged, making him suddenly look his age. "And I just remembered about ... the Doc."

Oh, God, Janet. From the Colonel's perspective, Janet's death had only occurred less than a month go. "Sir ...," Sam said tentatively, putting her hand on his hard forearm and squeezing it gently. "I miss her too," she said.

"Yeah." The Colonel shifted on the bed. "I always gave her such a bad time in the Infirmary - gave as good as she got."

Sam chuckled. Janet Fraiser had probably been the shortest member of the SGC, but she'd also been one of the few people Colonel Jack O'Neill had actually feared. "She knew, sir," she said. "Under all the grouching, she knew you did actually like her."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, she kept us all relatively sane for seven years - pulled our asses out of the fire more than once. What's not to like?"

Nice to know some things hadn't changed. The Colonel was just as bad at discussing emotions as ever. Sam shivered again and pulled the blanket around her even more tightly. "Sir ... how did you know I'd be feeling cold?"

Again with the shrug. "Carter; I've been tortured a few times before," he said. "First time it happened, I spent a fortune on heating bills."

The first time? Sam had been thinking of his time with Ba'al or on Netu. He'd been tortured before that? "Was it a long time ago?" she asked then could have shot herself if there'd been a zat handy. Like he's going to want to talk about it!, she scolded herself.

He wriggled slightly. "Yeah. POW. Iraq," he grumbled. "So ... yeah ... I know how you're feeling right now."

"Thank you, sir," she said, sliding another blanket around her shoulders and trying to suppress the shivers. The cold seemed to have gone bone-deep.

"Oh, crap; c'mere, Carter," the Colonel said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into the warmth of his own body.

God, she hated this. Not the Colonel's strong arms around her, but the fact that she felt so weak. She was a Major in the Air Force, for God's sake! She'd seen things most people couldn’t even imagine and had gone through torture more than once.

She slid her arms around his waist, noting that it had gotten a little softer during his time in stasis - three months of inactivity would do that - and rested her head on his chest. "Thanks, sir," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

He breathed in deeply and she felt him a drop a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "You're welcome, Carter," he replied simply.

She shivered again - for an entirely different reason. The man's arms felt wonderful around her, the simple gesture so touching, so ... Jack. She'd been such an idiot to think she'd gotten over him. She'd tried - most recently with Pete, but she'd dropped him when she'd found out he'd done a background check on her. Stupid son of a bitch - had he thought she'd never find out?

+++++++++++++++

Jack woke up to find a disheveled blonde head on his chest and a slim hand somehow inside his tee shirt. Nice, but ... wrong. That slim hand rested on his abdomen, which wasn't as flat as he remembered - he'd never been able to harness the six pack, but he knew he was going to spend some serious time in the gym when they got back to the SGC.

She shifted and her hand moved lower. He grasped the wandering hand quickly before it came into contact with his morning ... uh, issue ... and withdrew it from his shirt, placing it on his now covered abdomen. He looked at her lovely face and saw for the first time the deep shadows under her eyes, the sure signs of strain making her features tense, even in sleep. What the hell had that bastard put her through?

He sighed gently. He didn't have the heart to wake her from what looked like a desperately needed sleep, so he kissed her hair once more and closed his own eyes.

Oh yeah, he mused as he drifted back to sleep, definitely gonna make some changes.

One week later:

Jack looked at all the boxes in Weir's office. He'd not been sure about her at first but he'd heard from Daniel how well she'd dealt with those three snakes who'd come trying to broker a treaty. That bit about wanting Ba'al's territory upon his defeat ... priceless. He couldn't have come up with anything better if he'd tried.

"Are you goin' somewhere?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, the President has asked me to supervise the research of the Ancient outpost. It's gonna be a bit of a delicate situation, given all the various international claims already being made on the site."

"Sounds right up your alley," Jack said. Anybody who could face off against those snakes could deal with slimy politicians.

"Yeah, well, much more so than this job."

Jack felt his hopes rise. "Does that mean Hammond will be coming back?" he asked.

"No." Crap. "General Hammond is being promoted. He'll be overseeing all things relating to Earth's defense on behalf of the Pentagon and Washington - the SGC, the 303 program, the Antarctic site. Unofficially it's being called Homeworld Security."

Catchy. "Any idea who we're gonna be stuck with?"

"The Pentagon has convinced the President that there is one man who could run the SGC and make it politically viable from an international perspective, despite the fact that he is part of the American military establishment.

"Do we know this ... shrub?" Jack closed his eyes. Please God; not another Bauer!

"Well, you know him rather well ... Brigadier General Jack O'Neill."

Is she kidding? I resigned, for cryin' out loud! "Me?" was all that came out of his mouth, however.

Weir smirked. "Yeah, you."

"Brigadier ...," Jack mused. He paused. "It's on my list."

"Congratulations," Weir said.

Don't congratulate me too soon. Jack stood up. "I should be clear; I'd like the promotion, pay check and the parking spot. But I don't really wanna be in charge of anything. No."

"Well, sadly, all those things kind of go together. So I guess you have some thinking to do."

Jack grimaced. "No, I don't," he said. "I resigned ... and I'm stayin' resigned."

"Colonel O'Neill; I have no such resignation on your file," Weir said firmly. "If you wish to resign your commission, you'll do it in the proper way. Until that time, you will consider this promotion seriously. Understood?"

Whoa ... was she channeling Hammond there? "Understood," Jack replied. Hey, Weir was a civilian and she'd been in charge of the SGC - maybe they'd let him do the same? But did he really want to fly a desk? Time to go talk to the kids.

+++++++++++++++

Sam, Daniel and Teal'c sat with the Colonel in Daniel's office. Wow, Brigadier!, Sam mused. Not that he didn't deserve it ... but only if he wanted it.

"Maybe you should break it down into the pros and the cons," Daniel offered.

"I've spent my whole life sticking it to the Man. If I do this, I'll be the Man. I don't think I can be the Man."

Sam smiled to herself at the petulant tone in the rough tough Colonel's voice. "You'll be inheriting a pretty big can of worms with the state of affairs out there," she said.

"If Ba'al truly is on the verge of dominance of the System Lords, we face a formidable challenge ahead." That was Teal'c.

"Plus who knows where and when Fifth and the other Replicators will turn up." Sam just managed to suppress a shudder at the memory. The nightmares still plagued her, but had started to recede recently.

"Here on Earth we've never been under so much scrutiny as we will be now that so many governments know about the Stargate," Daniel continued.

"I've never had a desk," the Colonel said.

Sam wondered just how much of his memory had truly come back after his revival then saw the gleam in his eyes. Right; yanking Daniel's chain. She could do that, too.

"That's a ... uh ...," Daniel mused.

"Con."

"Con."

"For the record, sir, you do have a desk," Sam said, enjoying the renewed camaraderie.

The Colonel looked surprised; god, he was such a faker! "I do?"

"On the flip side of the coin, there's the fact that nobody knows how this place should be run better than you," Daniel said, choosing to ignore this by-play.

"Why thank you, Daniel," the Colonel said slightly sarcastically, but appearing to appreciate the compliment.

"With a little guidance from your good friends and advisors, of course." Daniel now smirked.

"If you don't take the job, we could end up with someone much worse," Sam said. The Colonel looked at her and she winced. "Okay; that didn't come out right."

"I, for one, will miss you accompanying us on our missions, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

"Yeah, now, see, I'm not sure I'm ready to give that up either - sitting back watching you guys go off and have all the fun."

"Risking our lives in the face of grave danger ...," Daniel said.

"yeah, that."

"Well, I'm sure there'll be situations in which you can accompany us in the field, sir," Sam said, although she wasn't so sure.

"You'll be in charge - you can do whatever you want," Daniel said.

Oh, now you've given him ideas!, Sam reflected worriedly.

"I'll be able to do whatever I want," the Colonel said.

Daniel, Sam and Teal'c looked worried. He seemed to like that idea a little too much. "Within reason, sir," Sam said.

The Colonel stretched out his long legs and regarded his friends gravely. "I dunno, kids ... gonna have to think on this one a bit more," he said. He got up suddenly. "Need cake," he pronounced, and strode out of Daniel's office.

Cake. Sam smiled slightly at his retreating backside. That was the Colonel's solution for everything. One day, his metabolism would catch up to his age and he would pay for the years of junk food. Shortly after coming back to the SGC he'd begun working out to firm up his muscles, and he was once more becoming the lean hardened predator she'd always known. With a very nice butt too, her smutty mind chimed in at that point.

+++++++++++++++

Doctor Elizabeth Weir looked around the empty office, surprised to find that she was actually going to miss the place ... a little. But she'd never been fond of military establishments. She would be happier in the Antarctic. Colonel O'Neill's least favorite place.

She smiled slightly as the man himself strolled into her office, hair sticking up and hands stuffed in his pockets. Much smarter than he liked people to know, he could have made Brigadier years ago, but his own attitude problems had impeded his progress. And he was pretty handsome too. Yes; she was with Simon - she loved him deeply - but she had eyes. "Colonel," she greeted him brightly. "Would you like a coffee?"

"Yeah, cool," the older man replied, sitting down.

He accepted the cup of coffee and put it on the desk, shifting it restlessly between his long thin hands.

"So ... any decision made, Colonel?" Elizabeth took the bull by the horns, as it were.

"Yep," O'Neill said. "I'm flattered - and shocked as hell - but I can't take charge of this base."

Now Elizabeth was shocked as hell. She'd met a lot of high-ranking military officers during her years and knew that they yearned for their next promotion. Not this one, it seemed. "May I ... ask why?" she said, dropping gracelessly into her own seat. Damn; she should never have ordered his nameplate! She'd read his file; she knew he took a perverse pleasure in being completely unpredictable.

The Colonel smiled softly, an action that took ten years from his face. If this had been one of those medieval romances that sensible Doctor Weir never read, never kept hidden in her briefcase, she would have put a hand to her heart and swooned. "You can ask, Doc," he said cheekily.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes surreptitiously. The man was impossible. "Why, Colonel?"

"I want to get married," O'Neill said.

"So? Plenty of Generals are married."

"Ah." O'Neill held up a slim finger. "There's a problem with who I want to marry."

Weir closed her eyes. "Potential frat regs violation?" she said.

"Big time," O'Neill said. "It's Carter."

"Major Carter? Your second in command?" Weir really hadn't seen that one coming. Which spoke volumes for how professional the two officers were.

"Yeah."

"Well ... congratulations," Weir said, knowing that this man was already halfway out of the door - at least in his own mind. Dammit, there had to be something they could offer him. They had no right to ask him not marry the woman he loved, but the SGC needed Jack O'Neill.

"Don't congratulate me yet, Doc," O'Neill said. "I ... ah ... haven't asked her yet."

Weir didn't even bother to hide her eye-roll this time. Men! "Well, your resignation still hasn't been processed," she said. "Take the next week off, and go talk to Major Carter."

"Right." O'Neill gulped down the coffee then got up, stuffing his hands once more into his pockets. "So ... see ya in a week, Doc," he offered, and strolled out of her office.

Jack paced past Sam's lab. Then back. Then back again. By the sounds of it, she was pretty busy with an experiment and he didn't want to disturb her. While he liked listening to her talk, liked watching her eyes shine with enthusiasm, he knew the technicalities would just hurt his brain.

"Sir? Are you all right?" a passing Airman asked tentatively. After all, it wasn't often you found Colonel Jack O'Neill pacing outside a lab at 0300.

Nosy little runt. "Fine, Airman," Jack barked. The hell with this. He opened the door and walked into Sam's lab. "Hey, Carter," he offered casually.

"Sir," she replied absently, her big eyes fixed on her computer screen. Then she slammed a hand down. "Dammit; why can't I get this?" she growled.

"Y'know, Carter; call me insane and all, but there's a school of thought out there that's saying sleep can actually help ya think," Jack drawled.

She blinked and looked over at him, seeming to only just see him. She gave him a tired smile. "I'd ... rather keep busy, sir," she said.

Ah. Carter-speak for I'm still having nightmares, but I'll be damned if I'm going to talk to anyone about them. She'd been exactly the same after Jolinar, Netu, Martouf's death ... all the other crap she'd gone through the last few years. "Right," Jack replied. He picked up a small rounded ... thing and twirled it round in his long fingers. "So ... what's this thing do?"

She growled again, sounding remarkably like an angry cat rather than a scarily-bright woman. "I don't know, sir," she bit out. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

Whoops. He peered at the device, his attention caught by some etchings. "This looks familiar," he said, showing her the etchings.

"It should, sir; you spoke it till a week ago," she replied. "According to Daniel, it's Ancient."

"Ancient tech?" He shuddered dramatically. "Bit small for one of those dang head suckers, but be careful. Could be their version of a floppy disk."

Carter's eyes widened. "That's it!" she exclaimed, hopping off her stool. "It could be a portable database; maybe designed to ..."

"A-ah!" He cut her off with an upraised forefinger. "Let's just leave it at you could be right." He smiled sweetly at her. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Carter wasn't paying any attention. She grabbed the thing from his hands and set it down next to the laptop, then took Jack's face in her hands and kissed him hard on the lips. "I knew I loved you for a reason!" she said jubilantly then turned to her laptop once more.

Lips tingling from the kiss, Jack shook his head and cleared his throat. "Carter!" he barked. "Now you have an idea what that thing is, close that damn computer and hit the sack. Got it?" Had to keep up the CO-mode on base, even though his Jack-mode was chanting She kissed me-e-e-e-e over and over again.

"Sir?" Sam said distractedly.

"Carter; shut that damn thing off and go to bed," CO-mode ordered. And take me with you, Jack-mode added. God, he was way too old for these adolescent thoughts.

"Right," Sam mumbled, closing her eyes and scrubbing her hands over her face.

"When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?" Jack asked, now seeing just how pale and worn she looked.

Sam shrugged. "That night on the Daniel Jackson," she said, opening her eyes.

"Ah." The night he'd held her as they slept. Although he was a notoriously light sleeper off world, that had been one of the best night's sleep he'd ever had. "I can't believe I'm saying this, Carter, but ... maybe you should talk to someone. You can't go on like this."

She shrugged her shoulders again, looking incredibly young and vulnerable for a gun-toting, PhD-holding USAF Major.

"At least go home," Jack said, knowing not to push the idea of a shrink. Hell, he hated them himself! His hypocrisy only went so far. "We're on down time for a week while I decide about this whole General thing. Go home. Or go to San Diego - visit Mark and the kids."

+++++++++++++++

Sam looked into the soft brown eyes of her CO and realized that he was perfectly capable of hanging round and bugging her till she gave in. "All right, sir," she got out round a yawn. She pushed the Ancient device to one side, glad that the Colonel had come along when he did. He had a way of cutting right through the crap; she could've gone on for days without working out what the device did. But the idea of a portable database was very plausible.

She shut down her laptop and obediently left the lab, followed closely by the Colonel, who put a light hand to her back as he ushered her out. She immediately buried her natural reaction - a shudder of deep need - with the skill of years of practice and turned to the man. "Well ... good night, sir," she said. "See you in a week?"

He gave her a small smile. "Actually, Carter ... Sam ... I need to talk to you before I decide this General business. Could I come see you tomorrow?"

Sam was intrigued. But flattered that he valued her opinion. "Of course," she said. "Come round about midday and we'll have lunch."

"Lunch?" He looked at her askance. "You're cooking?"

"I can cook, sir," Sam said, too tired to get indignant at the teasing. "I said I don't cook, not that I can't. There's a difference."

"Okay, okay." He held up his hands playfully. "I'll trust ya. Midday tomorrow, then, Carter?"

"Yes, sir," she said and stepped into the elevator. "Good night, sir."

"Night, Sam," he replied softly as the elevator doors closed.

Sam?, she mused, stuffing her hands into her pockets. It had sounded weird ... but nice ... coming from the Colonel's lips.

Lips.

Colonel lips.

Oh crap; you kissed him!

She'd kissed the Colonel.

Again.

On the base.

Again.

In front of security cameras.

Again.

And she couldn't even blame a weird alien virus this time. She'd been so happy when he'd cleared those muddy waters that she'd just ... yep; grabbed his face and kissed him.

And there was no chance of her ever forgetting this kiss. There was now so much history between them, those feelings they'd tried to bury for the last few years. She got out of the elevator and headed to the locker room, wanting to scream at her own stupidity. She couldn't go on like this - torn between love and duty. Something had to give. But ... what?

Jack knocked on the door to Sam's pretty little house. "It's open, sir!" she called out.

He opened the door and strolled in, nose twitching at the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. Oh God, fried chicken - his nemesis. He could feel the pounds he'd shed in the past week coming back on just from the smell.

He followed the smell and found Sam putting something into the oven. Her face was flushed from the heat, there was a dab of sauce on her cheek and her hair was ruffled. She looked gorgeous. "Hey, Carter," he said.

"Hi, sir," she replied. She waved at the bottle of wine he had tucked under his arm. "Is that for me?"

"Ah. Right," he said awkwardly, handing over the bottle of very nice Merlot. "i know it's red and doesn't go, but you hate Chablis and Chardonnay, so ...". He shrugged.

"I'm not a purist, sir," she said, putting the bottle on the work surface. "It was a very nice gesture." She stood up and shut the oven door. "Well .... it'll be about a half an hour before lunch is ready. You want to talk in the living room?"

"Yeah," he said, surprised to find himself nervous. In most situations, Jack O'Neill would never turn a hair, but when it came to the murky depths of his own heart, he found himself floundering like a gawky adolescent. It was humiliating, dammit!

He followed the woman into her living room, admiring the curves shown in the blue jeans and pale gray tee shirt. Whilst the years had ripped mercilessly through his own face and body, they'd been great for Carter. She'd always been gorgeous, but the added maturity just made her that much more beautiful ... more lovely.

Christ, O'Neill; when did you turn into such a sap?, he mocked himself.

+++++++++++++++

Sam looked at her CO as he sat down opposite her, stretching out his long legs. God, he looked great. He'd changed so much since she'd first met him, the brown of his hair having gone rapidly to steel-gray and now the soft silver color. But that silver was great on him. It emphasized his angled features, his chocolate eyes, the tanned skin much more than the brown hair had. Gorgeous.

"So ... you're still having doubts, sir?" she started off gently. Somehow she knew that she was the one who'd have to start off this conversation. "You'd make a great General. I hope you know that."

He gave her a rather abashed smile. "Well, I don't, but I'm glad you think so, Carter," he said. He shrugged. "I just ... I don't know if I'm ready to fly a desk yet. God ... you know me and paperwork! Do I really want more of that?"

"We'll miss you leading SG-1 as well, sir," Sam offered. They were a great team - hell, they were the best! If the Colonel moved on up, something ineffable would be lost forever. But she knew that the Colonel couldn't resist promotion too much longer. He'd been a Colonel for over a decade. That was a very long time to keep resisting command; the brass would soon lose their patience and order his promotion.

The Colonel heaved his broad shoulders and sighed. "Oh, part of me knows it's time," he said. "I'm not getting any younger, even though I'm fitter than most guys my age."

"Most guys half your age, sir," Sam said. Hell, she'd seen him run rings around the new recruits. Sure; he complained about his back and his knees, but she knew that all the times he'd spent in Goa'uld sarcophagi had healed his long-term problems. Sometimes she felt he complained just to keep up the 'grouchy old Colonel' image.

He gave her a slow sexy smile. "Thank you, Carter," he said. "At the moment, I'm fit. But that could change and soon. What if I became a liability? I couldn't live with that." He shifted a little in the seat. "But flying a desk ... Oy!"

"You know, sir; the Chief of Staff isn't likely to allow you to refuse promotion again," Sam pointed out. "At least you'd still be a part of the SGC. It'd drive you crazy if you were posted elsewhere."

He gave her another slow smile. "You know me pretty well, Carter," he said. "But ... there are other issues as well." He picked up her remote and fiddled with it uneasily.

She took the remote from his twitchy fingers and set it away from him. Note to self; buy the Colonel a Rubik Cube next time I'm shopping. "Such as, sir?"

He closed his eyes. "Carter ...," he said. He dipped his hand inside his shirt and pulled off his dog-tags. "I can't do this as Colonel and Major," he added. "Sam ... lose the tags."

Bewildered, she removed her own dog-tags and laid them on the table beside her. "Do what, sir?"

"Jack," he prompted. "Sam; I'm Jack. You've called me Jack before."

She had. But not often. It had never seemed right, and it had been easier to call him 'sir' or 'Colonel' once she'd realized her inappropriate feelings for him. "Okay, sir ... Jack," she appeased him.

"Better," he muttered. "Y'know; after that sucker thing got me, my brain was going a million miles an hour. I was able to do a lot of thinking. About me ... you ... us."

Sam stayed silent, not wishing to interrupt the man's momentum. He was so uncomfortable with discussing emotion that she knew if he stopped, he'd never resume.

He shifted, seeming to struggle with himself. "I ... love you, Sam," he blurted out. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open with shock. He rushed onward. "And ... I don't know if you feel the same way, if you ever felt the same way, but if you do, if there's a chance ... I can't be your CO."

She got up and went over to him, putting a gentle finger to his lips. "Jack ... why now?" she asked softly. "We've been through worse than this before."

"Even I can only kid myself for so long, Sam," he replied. He took her hands in his. "I resigned, remember? On the teltac? Look, if you don't feel the same, that's fine, that's cool. I have no right to expect anything. And if I can't have your ... love, I can be happy with your friendship."

Sam's mind was running round in circles, screaming and biting itself in the small of the back. Answer him, you idiot! She looked into his handsome face. "We've never even kissed," she said slowly. "Not properly."

A slow smile bloomed over his features. "Well, I think we'd better remedy that," he said and cupped her face with a gentle hand.

She backed away, feeling confused. Was it love or was it just hormones? After all, Jack O'Neill was a very sexy, sensual man. God, Carter; he's right. Sometimes you do think too damn much!, she scolded herself, leaning back into him.

One hand slid gently into her hair, while the other came around her waist for support. Then his lips met hers. Softly, gently, but not tentative. Those soft lips felt really, really good and she opened her own lips to allow his tongue entrance, tangling briefly with her own.

"Mmmmm," she sighed as the kiss ended. "But ... the SGC?"

"I'm kinda thinking about going civilian," Jack told her. "That way - if you want it - we can be together and serve together. After all, Weir's a civilian and the President let her take charge of the SGC."

"Jack ...". Sam shook her head. "You deserve this promotion. If you want it. I don't have the right to take that away from you."

"Carter; you're over-thinking things again," Jack scolded lightly. "They still call your dad General even though he's been a snake-head for nearly seven years, right?"

Right. It was customary for retired military personnel to still be referred to by their former title.

"So ... the only thing left to decide is; do you want us?" Jack chuckled. "I mean; you want there to be an us? A Jack and Sam?"

Sam looked at the handsome man. She knew him so well, had seen him at his best and at his worst, knew now what his kisses felt like, how good he felt to sleep against ... Could she deny herself this any longer?

"Yes," she decided. "Yes, I do."

His smile broadened - a wide, happy smile she'd seen so rarely on the man. "Excellent!" he pronounced then cupped his hand to her cheek and drew her lips to his once more.

+++++++++++++++

Several days later:

Sam, Daniel and Teal'c stood with the rest of the SGC in the embarkation room, watching the beginnings of the hand-over ceremony. Doctor Weir walked up to the podium at the top of the ramp, dressed in her customary pant suit.

"Although my time here has been brief, it has been without a doubt indelible," she began. "I will remember every one of you, and I thank you all for your hard work. I'm not one for long good-byes, so without further ado it is with great pleasure that I introduce you to your new commanding officer, Brigadier General Jack O'Neill."

The side door opened and Jack walked in, looking very handsome if a little uncomfortable in his new uniform. Everyone drew themselves to attention as Jack walked up the ramp to the podium. Weir walked down to stand with the rest of SG-1.

Jack leaned and spoke into the microphone. "At ease." The personnel shifted to parade rest. "You all know how much I love speeches, so I'll make this short. I wish I could say I didn't owe anything to anyone, but the truth is I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for the courage and support of each and every one of you. I hope I can be as good a leader as we've had in the past, and as good as you deserve."

"Hear, hear!" Daniel said, clapping. He was followed in short order by the rest of the SGC.

"As you all know, and if you don't where the hell have you been the last few days?, I retired from the Air Force two days ago. But even as your civilian CO, I can still kick your asses." He sent the chuckling Marines a wry grin. "And that includes your jarheads, Reynolds," he added. "There are advantages to being a civilian, but I'm very proud to command all of you. You're the best. And don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Even the Marines."

Sam smothered her grin at this statement; typical Jack.

"The other reason I took this job was so I could do really cool stuff like this." He paused. "It is with great pride that my first order of business as command of this base is the announcement of the promotion of Major Samantha Carter to Lieutenant Colonel."

What? Sam grinned, both delighted and embarrassed as everyone broke into applause. Jack jerked his head at her, mouthing "C'mere." Oh, she was going to kill him!

She walked up the ramp and stood in front of Jack as Walter Harriman read the commendation. "The President of the United States has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity and abilities of Major Samantha Carter. Major Samantha Carter is promoted to the grade of Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force."

Jack finished pinning on Sam's new insignia and they saluted each other.

"Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter," he murmured amidst the applause. "Now, raise your right hand ..." - she did so - "and repeat after me. I ... insert name ..."

She smiled at him. "I, Samantha Carter-O'Neill ...," she began.

One year later

Jack came flying into the embarkation room as his very favorite snake-head walked down the ramp. "Jacob!" he said exuberantly, flinging his arms wide.

"Jack," the older man said, grasping his hand. "Congratulations on your ... promotion. You deserve it."

Jack smirked modestly. "Yes ... well ...," he said.

"So ... what's the big emergency?" Jacob asked, following the younger General along the corridors.

"Oh ... just ...". Jack waved Jacob into the Infirmary. "Just thought you'd like to meet your grand-children, Dad."

+++++++++++++++

"Dad?" Jacob's head swung from Sam, who was cuddling two tiny babies, to Jack, who was now standing next to Sam with the biggest shit-eating grin he'd ever seen. And that was saying something for Jack O'Neill. He sighed and ran a hand through his sadly thinning hair. "Jack; you'd better damn well explain yourself," he barked.

"Dad; Jack retired a year ago," Sam said tiredly, handing one of the babies to Jack and the other to Jacob. "We tried to find you, but since the split in the alliance ..."

"I know." Jacob hated that the split had kept him from his daughter for so long. "I'm still trying to mend fences with the High Council, but it's a slow business. So ..." - he looked at the baby in his arms then over at Jack - "you retired then knocked up my only daughter."

"Jacob; I thought you knew me better than that by now." Jack blew a tiny raspberry to his daughter's pudgy cheek and caught at a minuscule flying fist. "Whoa there, slugger!" he said. "Let your grand-dad beat me up first, huh?" he teased. He looked up from the tiny girl. "Sam and I got married just after I retired."

Jacob now saw the matching wedding bands on Jack's and Sam's left hands and sighed heavily. "Sorry, Jack," he said. "You're right; I should know you better than that." He looked at the little boy he cuddled, seeing both Jack and Sam in the little guy's delicate bone structure and the shock of brown hair that stuck up madly in back. "Poor little bugger inherited your hair, I see, Jack," he offered.

Jack attempted to smooth down his own hair, without success. "Better the O'Neill hairline than the Carter one, Dad," he taunted.

Jacob closed his eyes briefly against Jack's wide grin. "Don't suppose you'd let me kill him, would you, Sam?" he inquired.

"Nope. Sorry, Dad," Sam said. "I've still got uses for him yet." She put her hand out to Jack's free one and tugged him to sit down next to her. "Give me my daughter, you," she instructed, opening her oh-so-flattering hospital gown and guiding the baby's lips to her nipple.

Jacob watched Sam and Jack as she fed the baby, and shifted his grandson in his arms. They look well together, Selmak decided. Why do you fight this?

I'm not really, Jacob admitted. No guy will ever really be good enough for her, but Jack's the best there is. Just ... don't let him know that, huh?

He'd never seen his daughter look so happy, so contented. She'd always been a beautiful woman, but now ... Call it a big honkin' cliche - he'd known a certain Jack O'Neill way too long! - but she truly glowed. This was what he'd always wanted for her. He was happy for her. And for Jack. But that didn't mean he couldn't give Jack a hard time.

He suppressed the evil grin that rose to his lips. Heh. This was going to be one fun trip.