~o~

Hours later, Jack slowly came awake. He rolled over, rubbing at his eyes even as he tried to figure out why he was sleeping in the nude. He never slept naked, but especially not on base, which was where he had to be, given the drab décor and lack of windows.

He flailed around for a bit, trying to come up with a reason why he'd be sleeping on base at all when his memory suddenly got very clear.

The fall down the cliff. The injuries. Believing he was married to Carter.

"Fuck," he muttered as he rubbed his face.

Well, that cat was out of the bag. Still, it explained so much about the last week. Carter had been playing along, though he had no idea why. And how embarrassing to have his greatest fantasy outed where the whole world could see.

At any other time, he'd prefer to just hide in his quarters and pretend the whole thing hadn't happened. But, he was a Colonel in the United States Air Force, for cryin' out loud. He didn't hide from the hard truths, no matter how much he might want to.

Didn't mean he couldn't evade them for a while. Besides, as a Colonel, no one would dare tease him, so at least he wasn't going to have to face any ridicule over this. Hell, for all he knew, no one but the team, the doctor and probably Hammond knew.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since last night. Might as well get the day started, see just who on base knew he'd been living in Fantasyland for the last week.

He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, absently noting that the room had a combination of his things and S—Carter's. Jesus, that was going to take some getting used to. He realized when he got to the bathroom that the quarters were probably Carter's, what with all the little doodads and whatnots that women used to make themselves presentable to the world.

His own on-base quarters had precious little in them, mostly because it didn't matter how late the hour, he would always prefer to go home, even if he had to have someone drive him. So, he'd take a shower and then pick up what little of his stuff was in the room and pretend like the whole thing never happened.

Easier said than done, he was sure, but right now he didn't care.

~o~

Freshly showered, Jack made his way to the mess. It wasn't actually that late, only about 8:30am, but it was late for him. Even when he stayed up late stargazing, he was rarely on base later than seven. Still, it was nice to see that they still had breakfast laid out.

He helped himself to some eggs, bacon and toast, and two large mugs full of coffee, and headed for SG-1s usual table. He'd barely gotten half the eggs and one full mug of coffee into him when Teal'c came strolling in. He grabbed an orange juice from the cold cabinet and settled down across from Jack.

"You are looking well this morning, O'Neill."

"You could say that," Jack said, not looking up.

"I believe I just did," Teal'c said. Jack looked up just in time to see that damned eyebrow raised.

He huffed and dropped his fork on his plate, rubbing his hands over his face, something he seemed to be doing a lot of this morning.

"She's gonna kill me, isn't she?" he asked.

"To whom are you referring?" Teal'c asked.

"Carter," Jack said. "She's gonna kill me. I know it."

"I do not believe Major Carter is capable of homicide," Teal'c said. "Why would she wish to kill you?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the whole 'pretending to be my wife when she's really not' thing might make her a bit homicidal, don't you think?"

Teal'c sat back, his orange juice forgotten. "You have regained your rightful memories, then. Doctor Fraiser will be pleased."

"That's all you have to say?" Jack asked. He flailed his hands around a bit. "After the whole—with Carter—and we… that's it?"

"What would you have me say, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked. He leaned forward, eyes intent. "Your regard for Major Carter is no secret among those who know you well. As is hers for you. Perhaps now that you have proof that 'the world will not come crashing down if you were to get together', as you say, you will choose to fight for that which you so desire."

"Not pulling your punches today, are you?" Jack muttered weakly.

It wasn't that he couldn't refute Teal'c assertion, more that he just didn't have the energy to make an argument he knew was false. Not pursuing a relationship had been a mutual choice, but it was built on fear more than anything else. Fear that if they were to try, they'd lose something essential to the fight against the Goa'uld.

But when was enough going to be enough? And if they finally ended the war with the Goa'uld, would there be some other enemy to take their place? When would it cease being a reason and start being an excuse?

Jack didn't have any answers, but instead of trying to find them, he went back to his breakfast. "I'm getting to old for this high school romance shit."

Teal'c didn't say anything, merely sipped at his orange juice and watched him finish breakfast. When he was done, he cleared the table and headed out, intent on hiding out in his office for the rest of the day. It was the one place no one ever looked for him, so he felt certain he'd go undisturbed in there.

Teal'c, however, had other plans. Jack found himself steered towards Medical instead. He went as gracefully as possible, which for him wasn't much.

Janet looked up at them, surprised, when they both entered Medical under their own steam.

"Are you feeling alright, Colonel?" she asked as she crossed the room to join them.

"O'Neill has regained his memories, Doctor Fraiser," Teal'c said, before Jack could even form a thought.

"Yes, and I was about to say so, too," he said instead.

"Uh huh," Janet smirked knowingly. "I'm glad to hear your memories have returned, but let's take a scan, just to be sure."

Jack winced but allowed himself to be lead down the hall to the CT room. He obediently climbed up onto the machine and settled in, not once complaining. Teal'c looked concerned—or as much as he ever looked anything except menacing—but Jack didn't particularly care. All he could think about was how he'd exposed his deepest desires to these people, who were kindly not mentioning any of it to him.

He'd been all set to just ignore the longing for something he couldn't have. It had become such a part of him after his son's death that he hardly even noticed anymore. But now he'd had what he most wanted—well, one of the things he'd most wanted—and he wasn't sure how to go back to not having it anymore.

And Teal'c was right, on some level. Sam had gone along with it, had allowed herself to be dragged into the fantasy and had even actively participated in it. The Zatarc had shown them they both wanted the same things, but it had also shown them that there were risks in having it; risks that might not be worth the reward. At least, they'd thought so at the time.

But last night… Last night, Jack and Sam had reveled in each other, and the world hadn't ended, as Teal'c had so eloquently pointed out that morning. Did that mean there was hope that a relationship would work, too? He didn't know, and he didn't know if he should take the risk, given the high stakes life they lived.

"Okay, Colonel," Janet said after what seemed like no time. "You're all set. It looks like the last of the swelling has gone down, but I'm still recommending light modified duty for you. Same still goes for the headaches: you go three days without one and we'll see about reactivating you for 'gate travel."

"That's just peachy, Doc," Jack said. For as much as he was eager to put this whole debacle behind him, he wasn't eager to have to face the rest of his team again.

He jumped up off the sled and blew out the door, leaving a shocked Janet and Teal'c in his wake. Thankfully, neither of them followed him. He had some thinking to do, and he knew he wouldn't get it done if they were buzzing in his ear.

~o~

Jack sat on his rooftop deck, enjoying the peace and quiet of a night spent with his telescope. It was a perfect fall evening; crisp and clear. Perfect for stargazing.

And yet, Jack had barely noticed the stars above. He was too preoccupied with the mess of the last week to even spare much thought for what was normally his favorite pass-time.

He'd spent the day taking care of some long-overdue repairs and other minor tasks, trying his best to distract himself from thinking about… everything. But it was as if the universe was conspiring against him, because it seemed like every time he turned around, something would trigger a memory from the last week and he'd be reliving being married to Sam—Carter, dammit—all over again.

He'd gone around and around the issue in his head, but it all seemed to come back to one question: hadn't he earned the right to a little personal happiness, after everything he'd been through?

A few years ago, the answer might have been no. Guilt over his role in his son's death had still been heavy, and the grief too fresh to allow himself that chance. But time had a way of softening the edges of grief. He still felt responsible for his son's death, but it was no longer the overwhelming guilt that it had been back before that first mission through the 'gate.

Now, he realized that he deserved some happiness, and that denying himself something so essential hadn't accomplished anything except to make him lonely and isolated, two things Jack O'Neill should never be.

He'd also realized something very important: he liked who he was when he was with Sam. He liked the way he was content when he was with her, liked the simple joy in spending time with her, even before this latest fiasco. That was a rare gift in his world, and one he knew would only come around this once.

If it was the same for Sam, did he have the right to deny her that happiness and contentment?

And when he put it that way, the answer was pretty clear.

He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number from memory. "This is Colonel Jack O'Neill. Got a minute? I need to talk."

~o~

Jack stood in the doorway of Sam's lab, just watching her work. This version of his 2IC was probably his favorite: focused on her work, chasing a theory, engaged and entranced. It was easily the sexiest thing she ever did, and he knew that made him sound slightly crazy, but he didn't really care.

Smiling to himself, he shook his head and entered the lab.

"Carter, if you don't stop squinting at that thing, your face is gonna freeze that way."

"Sir!" she said, her head popping up, eyes wide and maybe a little wild, like she wasn't expecting him to get his shit together so quickly.

To be fair, it had been two days, but it had taken a bit to get everything the way he wanted it.

"What is that doohickey, anyway?" he asked.

He deliberately didn't stand on the other side of the workbench as he had so many time before when he'd visited her lab. Instead, he stepped in beside her, peering down at the pieces of whatever it was, then back at her, one eyebrow raised in an approximation of Teal'c's best glare.

Sam cleared her throat and glanced back down at the pile of parts. "It's, um, it's a—what are you doing here, sir?"

Jack just smiled. Discombobulated Sam was a rare thing. Adorable, especially when that little line appeared between her eyes.

"Actually, I have a proposal for you," he said, turning to lean one hip against the counter. He tucked his hands into his pockets to stop them from fidgeting, attempting an air of calm that he really didn't feel.

"A proposal?" she asked. Her head tilted, and he could practically see the gears in her head turning.

He'd hoped she'd pick up on his word choice. He wasn't going to spell it out, because the walls had ears, no matter what anyone said, but maybe he wouldn't have to, if his Scientist was as smart as she claimed to be.

"A proposal," he said, nodding. "You. Me. Dinner."

"Dinner," she said. "Team dinner?"

"Nope," he said. "Just you and me. Wear something nice." He paused. "Not black."

Sam's eyebrow rose. That had surprised her.

"Be ready to go at seven."

And with that, he turned and left the room. He didn't look back, but he didn't really need to. The poleaxed look on her face would stick with him for a while.

~o~

Jack knocked on General Hammond's door, but didn't wait for an answer before he opened it and stepped inside.

"Jack," Hammond said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Can we talk, sir?"

"Of course," Hammond said. "You know my door is always open. What can I do for you?"

Jack took a seat in the guest chair in front of the General's desk, resting the folder in his hand on his knee.

"Well, a lot of things happened this past week that I thought we should probably talk about."

Hammond held up a hand. "Doctor Fraiser explained your medical condition to me. As far as I'm concerned, whatever happened last week was a part of your recovery and isn't relevant to your position here." Hammond paused. "Are you still feeling the effects of the concussion?"

"No, sir," Jack said, shaking his head. "According to the Doc, I'm fully recovered. Haven't even had a headache all weekend."

Which was a damn miracle, considering how he'd spent his weekend.

"I'm glad to hear it," Hammond said. "But something tells me that's not the end of it."

"No, sir, it's not," Jack said. He held the folder out for Hammond to take. "I think if you read the contents of that folder, it'll be faster than if I tried to explain it."

Hammond's eyebrow rose as he took the folder, but his gaze stuck on Jack's hand when he released the folder.

Jack held up his left hand, where a shiny gold ring now resided. "It's all there in the folder, sir."

Hammond stared at him for the longest moment. He finally seemed to shake himself out of his trance and shift his attention to the folder. He quickly skimmed the first page, glancing up at Jack, who just nodded and waved for him to keep going. When he got to the second page, both eyebrows raced for his non-existent hairline.

"There's one more page, sir," Jack said, when it looked like Hammond was ready to surface and discuss this latest development.

Hammond huffed, as if he was reaching his limit but still able to find the humor in the situation and turned the page to read the last document. It didn't take him long, and when he was done, he set the folder on the desk in front of him and leaned back in his chair.

"And all this happened over the weekend?" Hammond asked.

"Yes, sir," Jack said.

"I'm not sure what to address first, frankly," Hammond said. "Although I suppose I should offer congratulations on your marriage. I've always believed you and Major Carter were well suited to each other. I'm sure you'll be very happy."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said.

That was, quite literally, the most 'sirs' he'd ever uttered in a single sitting, and he was actually kind of tired of saying it, but he felt like he needed to stay on Hammond's good side at this point. That folder contained a helluva bombshell, so he figured a little respect was probably due, considering everything the man was absorbing.

And Hammond's smirk told him that the other man had figured it out, too.

"Jack, I can honestly say this is the most shocked I've ever been, but I have to ask. Why didn't you come to me with this?"

"With all due respect, sir," and there he went again, much to a smirking Hammond's delight, "I didn't want to put you in a compromising position. I know that you've been critical of the fraternization regs within the SGC in the past, but I also know that the Joint Chiefs haven't always been receptive. You don't have the political capital to spend on this issue, sir."

"And you do?" Hammond asked without rancor.

"I've saved the planet a couple of times," Jack said, flashing a smile. "I figured it had to be good for something."

"So, let me get this straight," Hammond said. "You called the President, asked him for a special dispensation so you could marry Major Carter, and then asked him to push through changes to the fraternization regs for the SGC. Why do that when you got what you wanted?"

"I can't be the only person in this command who's fallen in love with someone they're legally prevented from being with," Jack said baldly. "And frankly, not all of them have the ear of the President. I had the power to get what I wanted, but I also had the power to make life easier for the rest of the people in this command. I felt like it was a good use of my position."

"I would have to concur, Colonel," Hammond said. He sat forward, resting his arms on the folder on his desk. "Have you told the rest of your team?"

"Last night," Jack said, nodding. "We had them over for dinner. Danny was very happy. So was Teal'c. He almost cracked a smile."

Hammond huffed a laugh. "That brings us to what to do with SG-1. Did the President have any opinion on the matter?"

Jack winced. No commanding officer liked to be told what to do, and Hammond wasn't any different. "He was of the opinion that it's your command, so the decision is up to you."

Hammond sat back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face. "I can't leave Major Carter under your command. The appearance of favoritism won't do her career any good."

"I don't have any problem with her reporting directly to you, sir," Jack said. "She's still got room for advancement, and I wouldn't want to be the reason she's passed over."

"Understood," Hammond said, nodding. "Do you believe that you can still function as a team, now that you're married?"

That was a bit of a trickier question. The big issue was, could Jack and Sam put the welfare of their teammates over their own or each other's. The truth was, they'd loved each other for years and had mostly put the team first over each other.

"I think we've proven that we can handle being in the field together, sir," he said. "If the Zatarc incident proved anything, it's that we're both professionals who put the team first."

"I agree, Colonel," Hammond said. "I'm inclined to allow SG-1 to continue as before, on a trial basis. If there are no incidents, you can rest assured that I won't separate you."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said. He hadn't doubted Hammond, but he also knew that this was all uncharted territory. He and Sam would be the canaries in the mine on the new frat regs.

"I'd also like you to consider something," Hammond said. When Jack nodded, he went on. "The President asked me to begin looking at officers who could step up and take command of the SGC when I retire." He held up his hand when Jack opened his mouth to respond. "That won't be for a couple of years yet, but both the President and I agree that the man we want for the job is you. Now, it would involve promotion, but I've looked at your records, and you're more than qualified. Top 5% at the War College, Master's Degree in Aeronautical Engineering."

Jack huffed. He hated answering to the man, and this promotion would effectively make him the man. But, it would also allow him to stay involved with the SGC, and stay connected to Sam and all his friends. Plus, he'd be able to make some of the decisions and changes he'd thought about over the years.

"Alright, sir," Jack said on a sigh. "You know how I feel about authority figures. Present company excluded, of course. But I also think you know that I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving the SGC in anyone else's hands."

"I do know that," Hammond said, smiling. "Very well. I'll inform the President. Unless there's something else, you're dismissed."

"No, sir, that was it."

Jack rose from his chair and saluted his CO. Hammond stood and gave him an indulgent smile, offering him a salute in return. Jack turned and headed for the door, turning at the last minute to find Hammond seated once more, rereading the pages in the folder, no doubt deciding how best to break the news to the rest of the command.

He was glad that wasn't his job, but that thought brought with it a groan, because in a few short years, it probably would be.

"What's that for?"

Jack turned to find Sam sitting at the conference table, her laptop forgotten beside her.

"You come up here to eavesdrop?" Jack asked.

Sam shrugged. "I thought you could use the moral support. How'd it go?"

"Hammond congratulated us. He wasn't as shocked as I expected him to be."

"About us getting married?" Sam asked.

She stood up and looped her arms around his waist. He pulled her in, dropping a kiss in her hair. They'd agreed that the no PDA rule was a good one, but after the meeting he'd just had, he really needed a hug.

"About everything, actually," Jack said. "I know he's been wanting to push through changes to the frat regs for a while now, but it had to bother him that I got it done while he was still banging his head against a brick wall shaped like the Joint Chiefs."

"But you got it done," Sam said. She pulled back, looking him in the eyes. "Hammond's not a glory hound. As long as it gets done, he doesn't really care who does it or who gets credit."

"He's a good man," Jack said. "He wants me to take over the SGC when he retires."

Sam's eyes bugged out a little. "What did you say?"

"That I'd do it. Honestly, I can't see myself serving under anyone else. And I wouldn't' trust the SGC—and you and Danny and Teal'c—to anyone else either."

"And SG-1?"

"He's gonna let us stay together," Jack said. "It's a trial, but we both know nothing's changed, despite the fact that we're married now."

Sam smiled. "We are definitely married now."

Jack pulled her even closer, squeezing her tightly and resting his cheek on her head. "Yes, Mrs. O'Neill, we are definitely married."

"Sure beats a dream marriage any day," Sam said.

Jack would have been insulted except it was the truth, and he was too damned grateful to argue.

~Finis