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.