Dear Readers, I've taken a break from real life. I hope most of you are still hanging on with this story, and that you enjoy the Crescendo to: 'Face the Music' with an epilogue to follow.

Fair warning: This is a long chapter, but a scene break was almost impossible.

And lastly, your feedback will make this writer a happy camper. No beta this time, so mistakes and typos are my sole responsibility and I apologize in advance. Thanks for your generous reviews, and supporting Jack's and Sam's forever and for always endless love.

God Speed, HailDorothy

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Face the Music

Chapter 11 'Crescendo'

Jack was exhausted—burnt out–running on empty and felt as old as dirt. He'd finally gotten off the phone with Cassandra who'd debated at least twenty different reasons why he should allow her on the base. Jack hated being an ass. Then again, he'd been doing a pretty fair job of filling that hole, so why not with his favorite girl. Without sharing that Anubis was about to invade earth, or that the entire mountain could go to self destruct mode any moment, he'd told Cass no way in Netu. When she'd hung up crying, he'd almost sent an airwoman to retrieve her. If the world was about to end, he wanted to be with the people he loved and Cass was at the top of that list.

But as CO he had no right to endanger a civilian's life even if she was Canadian. Jack had thought the Canadian line funny. Cassandra hadn't. Now, he'd no choice but to order Carter home to console the girl. And that meant he and Sam would have to delay their out of the closet conversation. Not to mention the block buster premiere of another Anubis invasion threatening to arrive in the nearest galaxy near you. . . Just where in this fricking universe was God hiding? The coward!

And last but not least, he wanted to know what had happened between Carter and Kerry. Now he'd have to wait until he got his snail mail, although it'd help if he lived long enough. Maybe he should just outright ask Carter. Because she probably assumed that he put Kerry up to that underhanded stunt. If he hadn't so much emotionally baggage invested he might have . . . Stop that! He castigated himself or was that castrated. Same thing.

Jack pondered Carter's whereabouts. Hands shoved in his pockets, head lowered, he limped down the hollow corridor and collided with something solid, yet softly familiar.

"Carter?" He snatched her by the shoulders. They regained their footing but Jack held on. Why not, he mused.

"General?"

Sam glanced to where he cupped her upper arms. He let go and coughed into his right hand. "Um, hey, I was just coming to see you, Colonel," he explained searching her freshly made face that included mascara and eye shadow. Wow, was that perfume he sniffed? Nice.

"And I was on my way to see you, sir."

"Funny." He felt like a teen with his first crush and shoved antsy fingers into his front pockets.

"Yeah." She looked down.

Why's she staring at her boots? Oh, nice polish job, Carter. "So, I talked to Cass."

"And?" She tilted her flaxen head until azure eyes engaged brown.

"She's madder than a Russian that I won't let her on base. Under the circumstances, I can't."

"I know."

"But she shouldn't be alone. Neither should you. And since nothing of cosmic proportions is happening that I can't handle I'm ordering you home. Got a driver topside," he said in his kick-ass-don't-question-me tenor.

"Yes, sir. I'll get my stuff." She walked away.

"Just like that?" his voice bottomed out.

Sam turned, met his incredulous expression and smiled wearily. "Yes sir. This is Cassie we're talking about. First Janet, Daniel and now Dad. It's amazing that she's functioning at all. Besides, I need to be with her for both our sakes."

"Ah. I mean, good, because that's where you should be—with Cassie." He hedged a strained smile and glanced around the empty corridor. Where was everyone? He looked at his watch. Wow, twenty-three-hundred hours. Shift change. He'd been here eighteen hours, Carter even longer. "Go home." He waved.

"I will. But before I go, did you see Doctor Lam?"

"Yes. No. I've been avoiding Doctor Francinestein."

"Sir?" Sam presented that annoyed head shake reserved for him. "She's an accomplished, brilliant physician."

"She's a civi, Carter, and far more tricky than Janet. I swear that Lam dreams up ways to torment me with enemas and humongous needles." He stretched out his arms.

"That's what MD's do." Sam teased.

"She wants to give you enemas too?" He scrunched his face and shuddered.

Sam rolled her gray-blues. Her glossed lips twitched and tugged upward. Good, another smile. "Sir, you didn't answer."

"Oh, me? Hey, I'm right as rain. Good to go. Healthy as a horse. Just gas." He pounded his chest and belched. "See?"

"Those refried beans were bad."

"Bad you say?" He held up a hand and counted off, contorting his face with each additional definition. "Bad as in botched, rotten, foul, spoiled, botulism, yada, yada?"

"Yes." Sam laughed and her puffy eyes shimmered.

"And I didn't know that why?" did he sound wounded? That was the plan.

"Because you were indisposed."

"Ah, that." Heat swept up his face. "Cat napped. I'm no kid anymore."

"If you say so, sir."

"I do," he stated emphatically knowing she saw right through him. Or was that smelled right through him?

Sam located a spot on the fire-alarm unit of the concrete wall behind him. He realized they shared the same unease. After all, they had a closet to clean.

"General, Colonel Reynolds left a message on your voicemail. And Doctor Lam placed her report on your desk. She said that I'm to warn you that you're on her needle list."

Jack rocked on his heels. "Warning duly noted, Colonel."

"Good. Anything else, sir?" She left their door open and he jumped in with both feet.

"Yeah," he flagged a hand. "Before you leave um, thought we might talk."

"OK." She didn't resist when he discreetly piloted her toward their private quarters and their tension level eased into minus zero just like old times.

"How're ya doing?" He glanced at her with naked concern. Makeup or not, she looked tough, but he wasn't about to go there. Nope. He valued life too much. Besides Carter could look and smell like a dead fish and he'd love her.

"Honestly, sir, this hasn't been my best day."

"Mine either," he confessed. "Remind me to write up a new Plan B against Anubis."

"Plan B?" She cocked her eyes his direction.

"Yeah, to force-feed those bad beans to Anubis' super soldiers, or even better the tuna cabbage casserole."

"I thought you banned that casserole from the menu."

"Yeah, funny thing, apparently Siler and Harriman 'luv' the fishy dish."

"Really?" The upward tug of her mouth said he'd fibbed. "I should go," she made an awkward gesture and yawned.

That gave Jack an idea. "You won't be much good to Cass this way." His arms mimicked a windmill. "I mean maybe you should rest, sleep, and catch some zzzs on base. I'll put the driver on standby."

"Is my staying base-side an order, sir?" Sam backhanded another yawn as they closed in on the door to her quarters.

"I can make it one."

"I look that bad?" Her soft brow puckered.

"Considering the crappy hand you've been dealt you look fantastic, Carter," he said with a straight face.

"Whenever you lie your scarred eyebrow twitches."

"It does?" He fingered the traitorous brow.

"No. But thanks for trying to make me feel better, sir."

"Think nothing of it." This woman had him hook, line and sinker. He was sinking fast.

"Well, nice as our chat's been, sir, along with your concern for my beauty sleep I. . . "

"What?"

"I want to confer with Walter. . ." She patted her pockets for her security pass.

"No need. Zero smoke signals from Teal'c about the Jaffa council's decision." He couldn't conceal his doom and gloom look.

"Sorry." Her slender shoulders slumped.

"Don't be. Just feels like the calm before the perverse storm." He licked his pointer finger and raised it in the stale air. "Whether fair or foul we'll weather through. Always do." Carter looked as if she expected him to pull a rabbit out of his butt. Well there was the one time . . . "Not buying it, uh?"

"No, sir. Something bad is about to go down." She hugged her arms across her breasts—er chest.

"Fine. All hell's about to break loose and there's not a flipping thing we can do except wait for the dam to crack and then go all glowy like Daniel."

Her mouth dipped.

"I didn't mean it that way." His hands directed traffic.

"I know." Her eyes glimmered and his heart tugged. "You still think he's alive?"

"We've been down this yellow brick road before, Carter. Daniel has a gift of popping out of the blue sky when we least expect him." He looked expectantly around them. Nothing.

"I hope you're right, sir." Sam donned that longing look for their best friend.

"I am. He's just revisiting Oz again." That won him a smile. "So?" He glanced at the vacant corridor. He should report to the control room, finish paper work, meet with SG-6, but for once in his life, duty would wait.

"So?" she asked apprehensively.

"Mind if I tuck ya in?" he asked gently and sincerely. "As a platonic friend," he quickly covered while his voice bottomed out, "who cares. . ."

Sam's bloodshot eyes swelled with moisture. "Thanks, sir. I'd like that very much."

"Sweet." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If you wanna talk about Dad, Mark, the funeral arrangements or anything else I'm here for you. Always."

"I'd rather not talk about that now, sir." She backhanded her leaky nose.

"Or cry on my wide comfy shoulder?" He pulled a tissue from his BDU pocket and dabbed her face, then her nose. Blowing into the tissue Sam leaned into his touch. Jack's heart crumbled. If it were possible he'd move back time to save Jacob. If only.

Sam took the soiled tissue, "I'd like that," and glanced about the corridor. "But not here." She stiffened her spine like the brave solider she was, and turned when two officers strolled by.

Jack addressed the saluting officers then waited while Sam swiped her security card. He followed, shut the door after them and summoned his poise that was ducking for cover. Wanting a life with his subordinate Jack patted the pocket of his BDU jacket. He'd no idea if the scrap of paper would mean a hell of beans to her but to Jack, it meant everything.

Shoulders sagging Sam shuffled to her bed. Sitting down, she glanced across the room to where Jack stood by the door. He felt like a fish out of water. Now what? As if Sam knew his thoughts she put out her hand. His heart rapid fired. Oy! The next moment they were seated on the bed holding hands. Sensing the oncoming storm he mentally and emotionally mapped out a disaster recovery plan.

Sam's body trembled then shook hard. Rivers of tears streamed down her pale freckled cheeks. Clutching the front of his BDU, she pressed her face against his chest. Jack rubbed her quaking back in soothing motions.

"I—I can't imagine life without him. Even when at odds, he was there for me. And after he and Selmak blended, he always returned home. Even to die. All those times that I misunderstood his motives and treated him badly, he loved me unconditionally."

"Hush." Jack caressed her hair. "I never doubted how much you two loved each other. General Carter respected Colonel Carter the officer, but Jake loved his daughter Samantha."

"I know. Oh, sir, I miss him already. Right until his last breath . . . he wanted my happiness." Sam sobbed and burrowed against Jack's shirt, her hands clutching his shoulders as she shattered in his arms. Jack embraced her and spoke soothing words of comfort. It'd been so long since they'd been like this that he feared to open his eyes.

"Let it out, Babe. I'm here for you. I'll always be here. Jake was a good man. I miss him too. That's right, go ahead and cry."

She did. Her tear-fall soaked his BDU and black tee. When the moist heat reached his skin Jack felt more intimately connected than ever to Samantha. Ten minutes passed before she stopped bawling and her breathing turned semi-normal. Without speaking, Sam blew her nose then stood and entered the bathroom closing the door behind her.

Jack took advantage of her absence and used the phone. He called Walter and told him to keep the driver on standby and then he dialed Hammond's cell phone. Jack spoke quietly, ". . . I appreciate that, George. Cassandra will be tickled if you show. And if you'd explain Sam's holdup I'll appreciate it."

George agreed then talked business.

Jack answered. "Yeah, still on lock down. I think Anubis is taking a siesta. Soon as Carter's rested I'll send her home. I know she'll not go quietly, but she will go. Yes, you've my word. Thanks, General…um, George. Yeah sure yabetcha. Later."

The toilet flushed. Sink water ran. Jack pulled back the crisp clean bedding, fluffed her pillow and waited. He spied himself in her full length mirror and tried to uncrumple his rumpled uniform. A dark blotch stained his left shoulder and front button holes. He'd wear these tears with pride. Per usual, his silvery hair saluted back. When he combed the misbehaving hairs into place they sprung back. Jack surrendered to another bad hair day.

Patting his six-pack he sucked in his softening gut. Dang donuts. He leaned closer into the mirror and scratched the day worth stubble. On cue, he blew into his palm, inhaled, and gagged! Digging into his pocket he found an abused wrapper of breath mints and popped one. And that's when he realized he wasn't alone.

His brainy scientist had purposely ambushed his self-indulgent moment. Reflected in the mirror behind him Sam stood cocooned in a bulky, white cotton bathrobe that 4 star hotels provided. Her bare feet and hands looked exceptionally small for her frame and height. Her short blond hair had been dampened and combed back from her heart-shaped pale face. He wondered if she was naked?

"Carter?"

"Sir?" Amusement sparkled in her eyes.

Dually caught in the act he tugged his shirt tails. "I-uh was checking for bugs. Never can be too safe ya know."

"You bugged my quarters?" Sam accused non-accusatory.

"No! Never!" He avoided her entertained scrutiny. Jack counted ceiling tiles. Why'd he feel guilty? He never bugged her quarters. Oh, there was that time when the SGC curtailed her house with that Ancient Orlin but that she knew. Okay, maybe she didn't know Jack had watched every video tape, including when she'd slept. She had been so hot when curled in a fetal position hugging a pillow. She snored and drooled like the best of them. No, safer to not mention that. . .

"Never?" she shattered his skip down memory lane. Even with her fair complexion scrubbed free of makeup and the runaway mascara, she was breathtakingly vulnerable. Her puffy eyes and cherry tipped nose showed fatigue and something else.

"What?" He sniffed.

"You called me Babe before, sir," she said walking toward him.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Not." He argued.

"Did. Um, sir?" Sam shook her head, "I miss Daniel too."

"Oy." He flinched realizing why their exchange felt nice but odd. "Fine, Carter. I confess that I called you 'Babe.' And I'm sorta sorry—"

"Don't be." She smiled warmly.

"Okay. I'm not."

Sam wobbled. Jack hurried to support her, but she stayed upright and made an observant sweep of her room. "Um, you unmade my bed."

"Yeah. And I'm not apologizing. Now grab some shuteye. That's an order, Colonel." He smiled none too seriously.

"OK." Sam obeyed and sat on the bedside. "What about Cassandra?"

"George just left the airport. He's going straight to your house to look after her."

Sam's brows meshed. "You asked him?"

"Yeah. As if he'd say no. That big hearted Texan loves Cassandra."

"I know. Thanks," she said wearily.

"You're welcome. Now lights out."

"Sit with me first," she added, "sir?"

Who was he to argue? Besides she was way smarter. His genius.

"Sorry about this stain," she fingered the dark patch on his blue BDU blouse. "And the mascara is supposed to be smear proof."

"Hey, one of the perks of being a brigadier general entails free base dry-cleaning." He took advantage of where she'd rested her warm palm and captured her wrist with his fingers.

"Our tax dollars at work." She looked down to where he held her hand. She didn't pull away.

"Which I don't utilize enough." He coughed.

"That I noticed." Her witty smile engaged his crinkled BDUs.

Jack settled their hands between their chests. "Getting sleepy?"

"No." She lied.

"Maybe if I sing. Doo. . ." he started up the scale.

"Please don't, sir?"

"Fine. But my 'Row, Row Row Your Boat' is to die for."

"So I've heard." She smiled through a long yawn.

"Your loss," he insisted. "Now, lay down."

"With all due respect no, sir."

"Excuse me?" He pulled a face. "Carter, why must you always have the last word with me?"

"I do not always. . ." Reality registered. "I do huh?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Since the first day we met."

"Well, I don't intend to overstep your authority."

"Who said anything about authority?" He grinned back.

An intimate look passed between them. Sam forced her attention on the bathroom door. He followed her gaze, sensing she was doing her best not to cave. If she did, she'd probably sleep the rest of the night.

"Let's leave sleeping dogs lie shall we?" He settled beside her. "No pun intended."

Sam opened her cute mouth than shut it. Quite a struggle considering. Jack inched closer and switched topics. "Stop worrying about Cass."

"I'm not. I know you've got her taken care of and I appreciate it."

"Hey, that's what family's about."

"We are family aren't we, sir?"

"Always," he said softly.

Sam barely nodded but remained upright staring at that door. Pig headed woman. Still, he sensed her relax against him. Glancing at her present distraction Jack cocked his head left then right. "Paint's peeling. I'll let Siler know."

"Already did. They'll scrap and repaint while I'm on leave for Dad's wake."

"Ah." Jack's calloused thumb traced her soft, warm palm. Her fingers tightened on his wrist. This felt good. But he should leave. Sam slipped her arm around his waist and pillowed her head on his shoulder. Or stay. Had she any idea how much her gesture of trust meant to him? It had become their unspoken means of communicating emotions that could never be publicly expressed. This was the second time today she'd been this intimate. Hope springs.

More self-assured, he urged her closer and reclaimed her hand. Sam nestled in. Oh, yeah, this was nice. This was safe. "How's Pete?" Doh!

"Don't know. I hope he's alright. I don't expect to see him anytime soon." She turned her tear blotched face toward him. "I-I broke off our engagement. It never should have happened."

"What should never have happened?" he'd actually mouthed a coherent five word sentence.

"Dating Pete was a gigantic blunder from day one. That's what I tried to tell you this afternoon."

"Yeah," Jack caressed her ribs, "About that." He had to come clean. "I'm sorry I acted like a blockhead. I knew why you came to the house. At least I'd hoped that I knew but I was—"

"Angry with me?"

"Yes. No. I was tongue-tied that . . ."

"It had taken me that long to realize I wasn't in love with Pete?"

"Stop that!" Jack pulled back and wagged a finger.

"Sorry."

Another trying moment before he got the words out. "Sam, I asked Kerry for lunch today to end things between us. But it didn't go down that way. She dropped me first."

"That I know." She gazed into his eyes. "She told me."

"Oh! How? I mean when?" Did his scarred brow twitch?

"Let's just say she's quite creative and had my sole attention."

"She's good." He admitted. "I mean she's a good operative." He cleared his throat.

Sam gave him latitude.

"Look, Carter, ya know I hate mile long explanations."

"Yes, sir."

He wind-milled his arms as if they'd summon the right words while Sam waited with unprecedented patience.

"Um, Kerry and I haven't engaged in the horizontal rumba in awhile." He avoided Sam's steadfast look.

"You shared a bed."

"Yeah, occasionally. And your point?"

"Sorry that was unfair."

"Ya think?"

"Yes. All the while I was with Pete you were alone."

"Let's not dwell." The dent between his eyes carved a canyon.

Emotionally tense, Sam held Jack's pained expression. "Carter, all those off world missions we slept beside each other and the base all-nighters we pulled together, did they mean squat to you?"

"Man, how can you even ask me that?" She snagged her upper lip and sniffed tears.

"Coz, I need to know."

"Of course they were important. I wanted to be with you anyway I could . . . back then."

"Back then," he said flatly. "Well that's a mouthful." He snorted.

"I-I don't understand."

"Then let me spell it out. Hell, Carter, I missed you—then and now," anger slithered through his baritone.

"You did--do?"

"Yeah, that so hard to believe?"

"But other than as Jonah and Thera we haven't had intercourse."

"Sex?" His jaw unhinged. "Carter, there's more to love than sex."

"I know that." She acknowledged blushing. "And I wish . . ." Regret flashed across her tearstained face before she stubbornly looked at the painted floor. Dang, she was shutting down. His fault not hers.

"I'm sorry. You're exhausted," he said quickly, "But give me a sec here, huh?"

Sam nodded but her concentration settled on the throw rung beneath her bare feet.

Jack scratched his lower back and made several long legged strides across her quarters. He wanted Sam to know the private man that few people knew. Long as he could recall he'd acquired the reputation of being a ladies' man. And until he became a general it wasn't uncommon to flirt with the female gender. But not until Kerry Johnson had he dated a base employee. Mixing work with pleasure was out of Jack's comfort zone.

Just like with his ex-wife, Sara, Jack was a one woman guy, a healthy heterosexual male with a preference for intellectual, long legged, full-breasted women, preferably natural blondes. Jack's lustful gaze indulged Sam's perfect twins. Oy! Caught in the act, he met her keen unsmiling gaze and gulped. She hadn't deck him—yet.

Jack unconsciously licked his lips. "As great as the sex between Jonah and Thera was, and believe me it was sun exploding amazing." He watched color blot her cheeks and felt a twinge of masculine pride. "What you and I share as friends is better than ten minutes of intense aerobics."

Sam's blue eyes turned saucer size. "Seven," she corrected. "According to the American Institute of Sexual Development the average time a couple actually spends. . ."

"More than I want to know. I mean, were Jonah still in a relationship with Thera he'd want her 24/7."

Sam's eyes crinkled with humor.

Jack's throat parched. "Wha-at I'm saying here, is that you and I—Jack and Sam, watched each other sexes-um I mean sixes."

A titter warmed Sam's lips. Jack indulged her with a short smile but stayed the course for fear he'd never have the courage again to share his feelings. "We believed and trusted in each other. Hell, Carter, I loved you!"

"Wow!"Sam looked up.

"I won't deny there was chemistry between Agent Johnson and myself. But after releasing certain pent-up physical urges, I grew content to just sleep with her because I remained empty inside—lonely for companionship, your companionship, Carter."

"Sir, I—"

"No. If I don't get this off of my chest, it won't happen."

'Okay." She blinked fresh tears.

"None of this is your fault, okay? You'd ever right to be happy and to be with someone-else. I never faulted you for that. Still don't."

"But, we made each other a promise and I broke—."

"It takes two to tango, Carter." He hunkered down and looked her square in the eyes. "What I felt for you—being with you at any cost was better than not having you at all. When you were lost on the Prometheus I vowed that if God returned you safely I'd leave the SGC and we'd go fishing. But the galaxy went to Netu. Neither of us could or would leave SG-1. And you grew more distant."

"Yeah about that," Sam sighed. "I had these hallucinations and—"

"Nu-ah." He held up a hand as he shook his head.

"Yes, sir." She smiled, wringing her hands. Jack fought the urge to still them, to hold her. He shoved to his feet, sat beside her then drew a ballpoint pen from his front jacket pocket and started clicking.

Sam covered his exercising digits and took the abused pen. Jack stared into her accepting countenance. No one had a calming effect on him like Carter did.

"You were saying?" she encouraged, setting the pen between them.

"That morning you hummed on the elevator?"

"Yes." Ruby streaks rushed up Sam's neck and cheekbones. "Not one of our better moments."

"For me either. I had one heck of a reality check that you needed what I couldn't give you then—or possibly now. Yet, I hoped that if you had a toss with someone for awhile, we'd later reconnect."

"Toss! You were okay about me seeing someone else."

"Hardly. The idea drove me wacko. But I dealt. Hell, even Daniel and Teal'c told me that by keeping silent I'd lose you. But I stubbornly stayed delusional until you accepted Pete's proposal. Seeing that diamond ring," Jack blew past his lips. He could still hear the ring box snapping shut beneath his fingers.

Sam touched his face. "I wanted you stop me," she whispered.

Jack flinched at her intimate touch. "And I figured that you had what you wanted. My nights got longer. I met Kerry and things went further than planned—" He retrieved the pen up and clicked.

"You don't need to explain, sir, and you've every right to be pissed."

"I'm not pissed." He dragged a hand through his military cut. "Just confused about," he gestured between them, "Us. Throw me a bone, wilya. What's happening here?"

"Not sure." She lifted a shoulder. "But I'm sorry about you and Kerry breaking up."

"Stop the violins. I wasn't in love with Kerry and she walked before she got in deeper. A wise woman."

Sam starred unblinkingly.

"Apparently I have issues, especially one huge one." He expanded his arms for emphasis, while nodding in her direction.

"Oh!" Sam's eyes went moon-wide with understanding.

"You just figured that out?" He snorted. "Geez, Carter, if not for Johnson's doggedly pursuit I'd be dubbed monk of the SGC."

"And until I dated Pete, rumors of 'Sister Sam' were true."

"That memo I got. You must admit 'Sister Sam' has a heavenly ringtone." He winked.

"Same could be said about Brother Jack."

"Ah. The SGC grapevine is sick as ever."

They smiled. Sam's fingertips brushed his tensed jaw but this time he didn't jerk back. "If it's any solace Pete and I haven't been intimate since you went Ancient. I just couldn't. . ." she looked away. "Hypothetically, I rationalized he'd drop me if we weren't sleeping together. He didn't. Pete really loves me and that made it harder to break it off. After the engagement he continued to respect my decision to wait until our wedding night."

"Funny, I figured that by cutting Kerry off she'd head for greener younger pastures. You can't imagine how many nights I stayed on base to avoid . . ."

"Kerry told me. She also told me to go fishing."

"She did?"

"Yeah sure yabetcha." Sam's bluish gray eyes sparked with mischief.

"Sweet. Carter, just so I'm not further confused. Did we just take us out of the room?"

"Yes, sir. That's if it's not too late?" The ball was in his court.

"Nope." His dimples tucked deep along his lean mouth. "Samantha," he engaged her expectant look. "I never stopped being in love with you. Always."

"You said always again." Sam snatched the pen and tossed it over his shoulder.

"I did huh? From here on I'll always put you first. Crap, we've lost eight years."

"Don't!" Sam reprimanded. "We can't undo the past. If we hadn't put earth first we might not be having this conversation."

"Another reason I adore, you, Doctor Samantha Carter, rational extraordinaire." He huffed in irritation, not with her, but himself.

"Hardly. You've put me first more times than I can count. But you have to believe that as much as I wanted-want you I want this too." She gestured at the white-washed walls of her quarters.

"Hey, I love the Air Force as much as the next guy." He defended.

"And you would retire in a heartbeat if I asked."

"Well there's that. And your point?" Jack tipped a calloused palm at her.

"That I want what normal couples have; careers, homes and families, even a dog."

"A dog you say?" he inserted with a boyish smile. "Any size preference?"

"Jack, I'm serious."

"Me too." He frowned. "And let's not forget kids. Three would be nice."

Sam balked.

"I'm just saying," he pouted. "But will settle for one." He held up a finger.

More Carter tears. "Man oh man, Jack, I want kids too, but it's just not that simple."

"Why?"

"Because I fooled myself into thinking I could be normal, have it all, and still keep the biggest secret of the universe."

"For the record, Carter, we are normal."

"Oh, pleeeze," she made an exasperating girlish sound that was so not Colonel Carter. "What's norm about walking through the Stargate and traveling through an Ancient wormhole to distant galaxies, fighting alien foes, and discovering new technology to save mankind? When I think about everything that we've sacrificed this-us seems lame."

"Hey, don't go squirrely on me. I've first dibs on the half-empty glass theory. And for what it's worth I think this is highly normal for folks like us."

"Folks like us," she mimicked his tone and looked hopeful.

"Yeah. Despite his police background and security clearance, Shanahan would never appreciate or understand what you do, what we do. Name one person outside this program knows how many times you've saved the world?"

"We saved the world." She wagged a slim finger. "Not to mention how many times you've died."

"Whatever." He smiled unassumingly, "Apparently Teal'c keeps score."

"Sure does." She grinned then turned staid. "Like the rest of you, I can't have a long term relationship with someone from outside the SGC."

Jack wanted to shout yes, but the concentration on Sam's face said she was thinking and that was dangerous.

"Kerry is an insider, so why didn't it work?" She looked up at him for an honest answer.

"My heart wasn't in it, Sam. And quite honestly neither was hers. I was a mountain to be conquer. She scaled it and found the summit wasn't that big of a deal."

"She dated you for career advancement?" Sam stared.

"I think that's how it started and I'm not proud that I let her. We used each other. End of story." He shrugged, then lifted his chin her way. "And Pete?"

"The result of a blind date through Mark. Pete pursued me with a romantic vengeance and I liked feeling the whole 'Princess Bride scenario.'

"Ah, I can see you as feisty Princess Buttercup," Jack said with a twisted smile. "But Lanternjaw as Westley, nah. Although, Prince Humperdink now there's a match." He snorted a laugh.

Sam rose to the defense of her former boyfriend. "You've ever right not to like Pete but, he's a good, decent man and he loves me."

"Oh!" Jack's cockiness flushed down the crapper.

"Just one problem, sir. I'm not in love with Pete."

"Ah." Yes and he scores! Jack hands wouldn't stop moving. He wanted to touch Sam, but forced his digits down to his lap. "I'm sorry about the mess, Carter." Crap, he sounded like a broken record, but he felt bad anytime someone, even Pete Shanahan didn't get the prize.

"Pete knows how I feel about you." She eased closer and touched his forearm. "Dad knew. He tried to tell me so many times," she dabbed her nose with her shirt sleeve. "I never told him that he was right." Her chin trembled, tears tumbled.

"Sam, We both made mistakes. But believe me that from here on, I'll do whatever it takes for us to be more than wannabe lovers."

"Wow!" Sam Carter's puffy blue eyes watered more, her beautiful lips quivered.

"That's it?" His face folded. "I can handle wow as long as it's a good wow. . . "

"A good wow." She brought his hands back to her cheeks and sighed. "I'm sorry I gave up on us."

"Hush." He sifted fingers through her soft golden hair. "We're mule heads, Carter. I gave up too. And there's nothing wrong with wanting normal. It's just we aren't." He urged her into his arms and she succumbed. He'd waited so long for this moment that he wasn't sure it was real. "Let's face it, I've got a wacko Ancient gene and you've got the memories of a two thousand year-old Tok'ra snake. What's normal or ordinary about that, aye?"

"You make a good argument, General O'Neill."

"I do. Now before we discuss our future we should revisit the past."

Sam pulled away, insecurity stamped on her crinkled brow. "Sir?"

"Jack," he insisted. "No more formalities when we're alone—agreed?"

Sam mouthed OK. "But I'd rather not do anymore road trips down memory lane. I've been doing that all day. My head hurts."

"Mine too. But this is important."

"How past?" she suspiciously asked.

"Way, way, way back, Captain."

"Cap-tain?" Sam swallowed.

"Yeah. It's actually funny." His dimples tucked deep.

Sam frowned.

"Or not." Jack winced, got to his feet and pulled out the document from his pocket. "You're probably going to get royally pissed, but there was nothing we could have done to change the situation. Apparently, marriages on P3X-595 can only be revoked by the death of one or the other spouse."

"Oh?" Sam's ivory complexion took on more color.

"Remember our second mission, the one where we got sicker than dogs drinking that apple cider gunk and you did a hot little strip tease?"

Sam gasped.

Jack looked at the ceiling tiles. Um, was that a water stain?

"I try not to relive the horrific dance number."

"Odd, it's one of my fondest memories." He winked.

Sam's lips thinned and her attention settled on the paper in his hand. "Tap dancing aside, I was out to impress upon my new CO that I wanted to be one of the guys, and how valuable I was to his team. I got snookered on a glass of juice and vomited all over your boots."

"Hey, we got both got tanked, Sam. On-the-spot puke party. Something I've had my share of today. So here's the whole enchilada." He handed her the yellowed parchment. "Just remember that striking a commanding officer is a court martial offense and that I've got a straw jaw."

"Warning dually noted, General." Sam accepted the fragile parchment.

"I'm just saying." Jack squinted at her playful response that he sensed was about take a complete turnabout.

Sam unfolded the crude illustration of a dark haired man and a woman with short yellow hair drinking from a decorative cup. In the next picture they were hurling on each other. The third sketch showed the couple in a horizontal position. Rows of symbols surrounded the drawings and two familiar signatures were scrolled at the bottom of the document.

"Oh man, these looks like our signatures. I--I don't understand." Sam balked.

"You're way smarter than me." He pointed at the paper. "But if ya need more details Daniel's translation's on the backside." He made a flipping gesture.

She turned the document over and scanned Daniel's scrawl. "Holy Hannah! You mean you and I are…"

"Married, hitched, stitched at the hips unto death do us part. According to their bizarre beliefs if a couple drinks the juice of fermented apples and gets sick together, they have been chosen by the Star Keeper and mated for life. Seems to happen to one out of every five couples in that tribe. The getting sick together part I mean."

"That's just sick." Any sign of life had drained from Sam's face.

"It's also their marital law. We were so bombed that we signed on the crooked line. Neither Daniel nor Teal'c could stop us. Only Teal'c willingly signed as a witness. Daniel refused, stating we'd been drugged and coerced and we'd kill him in the morning."

"Teal'c signed?" Sam's pretty mouth dropped ajar.

"Yeah. He's accustomed to barbaric customs. That's why he refused to sit with any of the single women. Besides, he and Daniel were each married at the time."

"Why didn't Teal'c stop us?"

"Because he was not acquainted with the Air Force zero tolerance frat rules and that romance hearted oaf has believed that since our first encounter, that you and I were destined to become lovers for all eternity. Apparently, he had us pegged the first time he saw us interacting. He's more a matchmaker than Daniel ever was." Jack rambled, so did his hands. "And not that Daniel didn't do his part, like take your clothes and sleeping bag."

"Wow! So when I woke up in yours—" Sam shot to her feet.

"Now, Sam." He backed off a few feet. "I swear to Almighty God nothing happened. Soon as I found you naked in my arms I checked to see if there was any physical, umm, spillage." He winced.

"Spillage?" Sam gasped.

"Evidence," he corrected. "As intertwined as we were it didn't appear that we'd," he coughed, "Consummated anything."

Sam's cheeks turned the shade of ripe cherries. Jack dragged a finger along his tee's collar. "Although according to the villagers we did our best to accomplish that critical act." He left out, how she had passionately impaled herself upon him while he'd carried her into the tent. So, technically, yeah they'd physically joined—consummated their marriage union. But if only he recalled that fact they weren't officially married, right? How many years had he been telling himself that whooper?

"Okay then." Sam bobbed her head and wiggled her bare toes.

"Is that an OK of relief or regret?" He dipped his head to see her face.

"Yes. No. I don't know." Higher color splashed across her cheekbones and nose. Here it comes. Jack took a backward stride and braced for the storm. "I remember . . . explosive sexual contact."

"Explosive you say?"

"Yes. You made me . . . I mean, I climaxed so many times . . . You were amazing!" She glanced up, but her eyelashes shielded her expression.

"I was?" He grinned with surprise.

"I thought it was just a dream. One of many I've had over the years. Seriously, no one can actually be that—."

"What?" Jack hurried to her. Sam met his lustful expression and turned the tables.

"Are you telling me that all these years we've been theoretically married and you never told me?"

"Um, theoretically is a good idiom."

"Jack!"

"Samantha, don't get your panties in a knot."

"It's your neck I'd like to knot!"

"Oy! General Hammond thought it was best that we let those intergalactic niceties drift off into the perpetual sunset so to speak." He made a clumsy flying gesture. "Besides, Daniel worked his ass off to get our marriage annulled. True you weren't informed, but his negotiating skills with the villagers almost got him castrated."

"Of all the stupid, insensitive, self-centered—"

"Hey, Daniel was trying to help."

"Not Daniel. You, Jack O'Neill!"

"That I get. But it's not as if the marriage was legally binding on earth . . . at that time." He gulped.

"Was?"

"Past tense." He walked and talked with his hands. "You recall that Daniel wanted his marriage to Sha're recognized on earth. Well, a few years later the president put into the United States bylaws that intergalactic alien marriages are considered legal yada, yada."

"I was present." Sam got in his face and jabbed her fingers against his spleen.

Jack back peddled into the wall. "Before you resort to violence I admit I should have told you. But if that news had gotten into the wrong hands primarily Senator Kinsey's, he would have disbanded SG-1 like that." He snapped his fingers. "And we wouldn't be able to do our jobs. Who knows how that would have affected our victory over the Goa'uld or if we'd have found the lost city of Atlantis and—"

"Considering you said we didn't consummate the vows we could have annulled the marriage." Her blues shimmered with suspicion.

"Good point! That's why you're the genius beauty and I'm the brainless brawn."

"Cut the crap, Jack."

He balked.

"I mean, sir." She covered herself.

"No no, keep going. I deserve this."

"Holy Hannah!"

"Although, I did what I did to cover your adorable ass—theoretically speaking." Jack cleared his throat and tensed for incoming.

Sam pulled back just enough to give him false security.

"You, Jonathan James O'Neill, are one of the most intelligent people in the galaxy. True, you tend to see things in a simpler light than most geniuses and that gives you an edge."

"I do?"

She slugged his right shoulder. "So, what's the real reason you didn't tell me about our marriage?"

"What's the real reason you didn't tell me you remembered?" He donned his gotcha look.

"I asked first."

"Coz I'm a self-centered asshole. And I spent many a sleepless night on account of that butt pain." He withheld how he'd also conjured a hundred different ways to make love to her.

"Me too."

"You don't say?" His brows hiked into his hairline.

"I knew what had happened, but decided that as long as you or General Hammond didn't address the matter I wouldn't either."

"Then you knew that we uh. . ?" Jack made the suggestive motion with his hands.

"I suspected."

"Wait? Let me do the math." He counted on his fingers and his face twitched with concentration. "For seven years and ten months you never asked?"

"No."

"But you're mad at me?"

"Yes."

"And I'm groveling why?"

"Because you're in love with me." She smiled.

"That works." His dimples tucked deep along his mouth.

"But that doesn't let you off the hook, Mr. O'Neill."

"Mr. O'Neill ya say." His chest puffed out. "Goes well with Mrs. O'Neill doncha think?"

"Has a nice ring. But I'd have to maintain the title of Colonel Carter on duty."

"I can work with that." Jack pulled her to him and gazed passionately into her sparkling eyes, bloodshot as they were.

"Good." She nibbled her lower lip. "So I wasn't dreaming?"

"Nope. I was hot!" He winked.

She snorted.

"And you were. . ."

"What?" She waggled her brows.

"Please understand this is meant as the sincerest compliment."

"Jack?" Her fingers trailed down his chest, the contact causing a massive response below the belt.

"And insatiable vixen. A hussy."

"Really?"

"Sam, I never imagined. I relived that night for years. Still do."

"Holy!" She blushed against his shirt.

"There was nothing holy about that. . ."

Sam slugged his arm.

"Ouch! I'm just saying." He chuckled. "Sam, you were an insatiable handful."

She tilted her head and gazed below his waist. "So were you."

"Oy! Is it warm in here?" He eased her gently but firmly to arms length.

Sam gave a reluctant nod.

Jack turned and readjusted himself.

Her next question finished the cooling down process. "What if I had married Pete?"

"Would not have happened." He turned back.

"How do you know?"

"Because Daniel intended to wave the alien marriage certificate in your face before you bought flowers."

"Daniel's gone."

"Yeah, his timing sucks." He sighed at her befuddled look. "But I was working on plan B."

"So all panned out, huh?" she shrewdly glared.

"Not my plan. If Shanahan made you happy that's what I wanted for you."

"You would have let me marry him?"

"Ah, but you didn't." Jack insisted.

"Not the point." She crossed her arms.

"You want to know if I'd have crashed the ceremony and screamed, 'don't marry that bonehead, Carter, coz you're marry to this one?'"

"Has potential." She nodded.

"Well, I would have stopped the wedding. Just that it took me this long to find our wedding certificate." He pointed at the document on her bed. "Daniel had hidden it all these years so that I couldn't destroy the blasted thing."

"But you didn't . . . destroy it." She lifted the paper off the bed and skimmed the contents.

"Never planned too," he gave a sheepish look.

"How'd you find it?"

"Help from an Ancient buddy."

"Daniel?"

"Well that's to be determined." He rolled his shoulders.

"At least you weren't visited by a future child."

"Grace?"

"How'd you?" She looked stunned.

"Long story. We'll have to share bullet points."

"Guess so." Her eyes held a mischievous gleam that made him nervous.

"Is that a look of forgiveness or are you contemplating how to torture me?"

"A bit of both, but I suspect the torture would be more pleasure than pain." Without warning Sam rubbed her forehead and then buckled.

"Carter!" Jack scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. "Let's put the rest of this closet conversation on hold."

"I'm fine." She weakly pushed at him.

"Not." He laid her down and pulled the blanket up over her robed body.

Sam yawned and shut her eyes. "But I didn't zat you."

Smiling, Jack settled beside her and traced the back of his hand along her warm right cheek. "There's a lot I'd like you to do to me, Carter, but not now. If I—we need you for anything I'll send someone to fetch you." He clicked off the bedside lamp, leaving the faint glow of the security lights to outline their features.

"Don't leave?"

"Wild horses . . ." He lightly kissed her blonde head and gestured to leave.

Sam captured his face with possessive fingers. Her mouth tilted upward until their lips danced together. Jack should resist, but he'd been doing that too fricking long. Sam looked alluringly into his questioning eyes, her heart his for the taking.

"I love you," he whispered against her moist parted bow.

"I know." She smiled softly, hooking her arms around his neck pulling him closer.

"We're not supposed to cross this bridge yet, Colonel." his lisp accentuated his failing willpower.

Sam merely nodded.

"Then you know what comes next?" he warned.

"Yep, my CO is about to fraternize with his insubordinate, and she's going to fraternize back." Sam winked.

"That's why you're a national treasure, Carter." Jack's left dimple tucked deep into a lustful smirk.

"With all due respect, shut up and kiss me, sir."

"Excellent!"

Their kiss wasn't hesitant or flirtatious, but intimately fired by years of restrained passion and indefinable love, yearning and promise. Jack's fingers gripped Sam's slender shoulders and he angled his battle hardened body to fuse with her soft willing form. Despite the layers of his BDU's and her cotton robe, specific body parts aligned like skin inside a leather glove.

Sam's body and brain turned to pulp. She swore she heard Judy Garland singing, 'Some Where over the Rainbow.' Man, she had needed and wanted this man for long that she feared that like Dorothy when she opened her eyes, she'd find herself alone.

"Samantha," Jack murmured as he savored the pliant skin of her throat with gentle nibbles.

Sam whimpered delight which further fueled his desire for her. In their feasting, the sash of her robe unwound; although, Jack's nimble fingers helped things along. He slid the palm of a hand across her bare shoulders to the arch of her lower back. Sam sighed into his thirsting mouth and their tongues dueled for conquest.

Sam surrendered.

Joy-filled tears bathed her cheeks. Jack felt the wet heat and pulled away, confusion and concern crinkling his sable brown eyes. "I'm sorry," he captured a hot tear with his blunt thumb and then drew her robe back into place. "This is too soon, I shouldn't have . . ." His rugged features tensed as he dragged his tongue over his lips tasting her sweetness.

"No." Sam protested, sniffing back tears. "I'm happy, Jack. I want you. Just overwhelmed that everything I ever wanted is right here, always has been, and that some thing is you, Jack." Her chin jutted as she caressed his whisker rough jaw and urged him back to her. Jack complied, but his licentious gaze forced into discipline mode and didn't drop below her neck.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere, Sam nor are you. We're in this together, okay?"

"Yes, sir. But what about the IOA."

"Screw those butt heads." He shifted on the bed and directed her to lie down.

"But when they learn we've been married all these years they'll court martial us. Worse, they'll shut down the SGC and Atlantis."

"Not going to happen. Political correctness has never been my strong suit. Rest assured that it's not over until the skinny woman sings, even if it's off key."

"But?"

"Na. . . ah." He pressed his fingertips flatly against her protests. "Sam, you trust me as your CO right?"

She nodded.

"Sweet. Now trust me as your husband."

"Okay." She sighed and worked her lower lip.

"Sam, you lost your father today. I don't think the finality of his death has hit you, but when it does I'm here, always. Now shut those tired, blue eyes. That's an order, Colonel."

Sam held his stubborn expression that for once, was no match for her own. Finding no leeway, she gave into him with a weary sigh and cuddled beneath the blanket that he tucked around her. She reached above the covers and claimed his large left hand. Their fingers intertwined and held fast. Within seconds she was snoring and not too quietly. Cool.

"That's my girl," he whispered and settled atop the bed beside her. When Sam turned into him, Jack rained soft kisses across her puffy eyelids, red nose, cheeks. His lips hoovered over the parted bow of her mouth. To his delight she breathed into him. Jack possessively claimed her. He was in tune to everything about his wife. From her herbal essence shampoo and body lotion to her Tok'ra invaded DNA Samantha Carter was the missing link to Jack O'Neill.

He never wanted to be far from this amazing woman, from her kissable mouth, her brilliant mind, crossword puzzles, or her hot body that was would soon be his forever. Jack remained in stupid awe that she ever had, then let alone now, loved him. Fatigue caught up him unaware and he yawned. He'd take a five minute catnap and—

The off-world activation alarm shrilled through the base.

Sam's eyes shot open and she bolted upright, knocking Jack to the hard floor.

"Sorry!" She focused on her surroundings and the man scrambling for a handhold on the bedding.

"Oh, fer cryin'outloud, can't we ever get a break?" On his sore knees, Jack maneuvered to his feet and met her blurry troubled expression. "This better be good news, like Teal'c or Bra'tac. . ."

"Or Daniel," With renewed energy Sam tossed off the coverlet and swung her shapely bare legs over the bedside. Jack's libido kicked to attention. Sam tightened the robe's sash that emphasized the valley of the twins.

Oy!

She caught his shameless glint and reiterated. "It could be Daniel at the gate, sir."

"Huh, oh, there's that." Clearly the stimulation in his wife's face hadn't a thing to do with what just happened between them. Some things would never change, and that was okay. Smiling, he snatched her uniform off the bed post and tossed it into her arms. Before she could speak Sam's phone rang.

Jack picked up the receiver and barked, "Walter."

"General?" Harriman coughed. "I-I thought I'd dialed Colonel Carter's quarters."

"You did." A smile twitched Jack's lips.

Sam smothered a giggle.

"Um, well, sir, we received Teal'c's G.D.O."

"Excellent! I'm—we're on our way." He pocketed their marriage certificate with plans to seal the license inside the explosive and fire proofed wall safe in his office. Oddly Sam hadn't budged, her clothes clutched in her arms, she stared right through him. "Carter?" He concluded she was in no shape to work.

"Sir?" her voice quivered as she returned to the land of the living.

Jack closed the distance and caressed her grief drawn face and smoothed her tangled hair. "You stay put."

"No! It's just that I realized we can't keep doing this. . ."

"No honeymoon, huh?" He winced.

"We can't stay in the same chain of command." She leaned into him like a limp doll.

"No, we can't." Jack trailed his fingers through her hair, then cradled her chin and gazed into her long lashed eyes. "Ya know, I collected those IOU's for such a day as this—for us. You OK with that?" His old insecurities resurfaced.

Sam pushed to her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Only if you're OK with that?"

"Ah." Jack gulped as heat shifted due south. "I can get used to anything as long as I can come home to you, Dorothy."

"Me too, Scarecrow." She shimmied against him. "Oh man, that's not your sidearm!" She giggled.

"Nope." Jack tilted his head for a kiss to seal their deal. Warm lips brushed with expectation.

"General O'Neill, Colonel Carter, please report!" Walter insisted over the intercom.

"That man needs a hobby," Jack muttered as he veered from her kissable mouth.

"So do you." Sam snorted.

"Got one." He winked suggestively taking a few backward limps toward the door. Dang knees. He shook out the kinks. When she failed to respond he looked back at her.

Sam had yet to move.

"Well, don't just stand there, Carter." Jack's hand turned the door's latch. "Hell, we've got a planet to save!"

Sam jumped to attention. "Yes, sir!" she answered in her confident military bravado.

"Ten spot says I'll beat you to the Control Room," he taunted smugly.

"In your dreams, sir." She scoffed.

Lips parted with an intimate off-colored retort Jack looked over his shoulder. Sam's cotton robe fluttered to the floor as her long-legged sensuous figure entered the bathroom. That sight alone was worth the bet.

Revisiting his hundred different ways to make wild passionate love to Samantha Carter-O'Neill spurred Jack to get a grip. "Patience, ol' man, patience." He donned a cocky expression, opened her door, peered down the corridor and then hobbled-raced for the nearest elevator.

After all. . .it was ten bucks!