She opened the door to find a USAF Major General in uniform on the other side.

With pizza and a movie.

"Hey. Carter. Whatcha doin'?"

He had that insanely cocky grin on him. The one he wore when he was about to toss some sarcastic, hilarious one-liner into the face of their imminent death. And although his entire body language screamed as casual as you could get in Class As, the grin told her different.

"Answering the door, Sir."

They stared at each other for a second, unwilling or unable to break the silence.

"So…. is answering the door taking up all your spare time these days or have you got time for a break from it?"

She stepped back, motioning him to come in. She wasn't sure why Jack O'Neill had turned up on her doorstep after two months in Washington, but there was no law against her having an old friend, her former CO even, come into her house with pizza and a movie.

The man in question was now stood uncomfortably in her sitting room, still holding his offerings like a shield in front of him.

"So…." They both began at the same time.

Uncomfortable silence, take two, she noted with that part of her mind that managed to stay detached.

"How's Washington?" she finally asked. From the slight grimace he couldn't repress, as well as the careworn look on his face, she could guess the answer. When had he started looking so tired all the time?

"Its full of politicians, you know? Fun. You know I adore politicians, Carter." He suddenly put the pizza down. "You know, technically I'm on vacation time here, Carter. Mind if I do something?"

And with that he disappeared towards her backyard.

Frowning in puzzlement, she followed.

By the time she reached her back door, he was stood in the middle of her lawn. As she watched, he yanked the hat from his head and neatly drop kicked it into her neighbour's garden with a massive grin on his face. He then took his jacket off and sent it the same way with a powerful throw.

He returned at a more leisurely pace to her side.

"The uniform's gone, Carter, I'm on vacation, so would ya stop calling me "Sir" and sit down and watch the movie with me?" He paused, and raised an eyebrow at the woman leaning on the railing in front of him.

"And I thought we had a rule about giggling!"

An hour later, they sat on her sofa with the empty pizza box on the floor between them, and The Matrix playing.

"Carter, what's going on?"

She sat up, startled, having been engrossed in her own thoughts over Jack's strange appearance.

"Huh?"

"The movie, Carter. I don't get it."

Glad he hadn't become telepathic, Sam waded through the intricacies of the plotline until she noticed that Jack's eyes had glazed over and he was smiling. Not grinning, smiling.

"What?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

"You're not listening, are you?"

"Am too!"

She gave him a stern look.

"I missed it," he confessed, not meeting her eyes.

Now it was her turn to look baffled.

"You. Explaining stuff. Even when I don't get it."

Their eyes met. There were worse things, she supposed, to start out with.

They both moved the few inches that would allow him to loop an arm around her.

After a few moments silence, he spoke.

"Hey, Carter? How well do you know your neighbours? 'Cos I'm gonna need that hat and jacket back at the end of the week."