I've had a few requests for a sequel/another epilogue. So … just for you guys! And this really is it! I'm working on another story as we speak.
Jack O'Neill. Hero to millions of people, kick-ass soldier, and king of smart ass comebacks.
And my dad.
My dad … my friends think he's awesome. A four star General and Chief of Staff of the Air Force. Till tomorrow when he retires. Again. He's already tried it a few times, but keeps getting yanked back. Last time was four years ago. And the President of the Western Alliance called him personally to bring him back into the fold.
I'd activated the comm. "Hello?" I said.
"Hello, honey; is Jack around?" said a distinctive Texas accent.
The President of the Western Alliance. Also known as George Hammond, Dad's former CO. Also known as Grandpa George. "Grandpa!" I said. "When you gonna come visit again?" I'd never stood on ceremony with Grandpa George, and always had to be prodded to call him 'Mister President' at official functions.
I switched on the vid-link and looked at my favorite Grandpa. Okay; my only Grandpa. Dad's folks died when he was only a kid, and Mom's Dad died just after those freaky metallic bugs were wiped out.
He chuckled. "I'm pretty busy at the moment, Katie, but soon, I promise. Is Jack there?"
"Not at the moment," I said, ignoring my baby-sitter. I was eleven — what did I need a baby-sitter for? Parents could be so lame. "Whatcha want him for? Nothin' AF, I hope. He's retiring soon."
"I can't tell you too much over the comm link, but let's just say a certain little gray-skinned ally needs his help."
Say no more. Supreme Commander Thor. My dad's favorite little gray-skinned buddy. He looked like something out of that weird Roswell conspiracy from the last century and only came up to my chest. He was super-smart and was firm friends with my dad.
My dad.
Who was nowhere near as dumb as he pretended, but wasn't anywhere in the Asgard league either.
"Okay," I said, resigned to the fact that the Asgard weren't about to let someone else take charge of the WAAF.
"I'm home!" my dad caroled, slamming the door shut and coming up the stairs.
I dragged myself back to the present. "Hey, Dad," I said, wiping the tears away furiously.
"Shitty day, huh, honey?" he asked, sitting down on my bed with a bounce. Sometimes I'd swear that Stargate put him in some age-defying stasis. No way was he like other guys in their 60's!
"The pits," I sniffled. "Todd …". I wanted a hug, but how could a fairly cool 15 year old admit that to their dad?
"C'mere," my dad said, and pulled me into a giant hug as I sniffled into his shoulder.
Everybody needs a hug.
Whether you've broken up with a boyfriend (guys suck!), got a bad score on your SATs, whatever …
And my dad's real good at hugging.
Sometimes my parents can be so lame, but when I've had a real suck-ass day, he's always there with a hug. Course, I don't let my friends know how great he is at it — I've already got a pretty geeky reputation having an astrophysicist for a mom.
Even though she's a former fighter pilot and a Brigadier General in the Air Force, that overwhelming coolness is offset by the science geek thing.
It's so weird. My friends meet my dad and they immediately want to hug him. General Jack O'Neill, the hug machine. And they've got a crush on him! Which is just … like … euwwww! He's old!
Yeah, he doesn't look his age, but he's still old.
And the ones who don't have a crush on him like Uncle Daniel! Not as old as Dad, but still pretty ancient. But I can understand that a bit more. I've seen pictures from before I was born. Brown hair, bright blue eyes and a nice butt — pretty cute. When I mentioned that to Dad, I thought he was gonna have a heart attack. Heh. I'm so evil.
My mom and dad met toward the end of the previous century when Mom was transferred to Cheyenne from the Pentagon. He was still a Colonel and she was a Captain. They had a 'thing' for ages, but they weren't allowed to do anything about it, because he was her CO.
The Air Force is lame. I'm never joining the military if they think they can tell me who to love.
About five years after I was born, the Stargate Program was made public, and I finally found out what Mom had been doing all those times she'd come home with weird injuries or a sunburn during the middle of winter.
Traveling to other planets through a big metal ring. Sounds like that crappy pilot "Wormhole X-treme" — never got picked up. Apparently Dad was the Air Force consultant on that, but he's threatened to shoot me if I ever tell anyone.
He might be in his 60's, but he's a crack shot. Makes me wonder what he did before he joined the SGC, but maybe I don't want to know. All I know is that even Marines shit bricks when they see him in one of his moods.
They don't get to see the other Jack O'Neill. The one who gives me such great hugs, makes awesome omelets and loves my mom so much that they still … euwwwwww … make out. I mean … gross. They're old! Seriously traumatized teen here!
"Boys suck," I mumbled into his shoulder.
"Yep," my dad agreed. He'd never liked Todd, but I'd just put it down to him being a dad.
Turns out he was right on the money. I'm only 15; I'm not ready to go all the way. But Todd got mad when I told him, called me a 'cock tease' and dumped me in the middle of the freeway to walk home. Son of a bitch.
"I hate him," I added.
Dad raised my chin with a gentle finger. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, his eyes darkening. He was changing from caring Dad to kick-ass AF soldier who knew hundreds of ways to kill someone without leaving a trace.
"Just my feelings," I muttered. "Dad … could you or Uncle Teal'c teach me how to kick his ass? I want to take him out."
Uncle Teal'c. An actual alien. He'd had a Goa'uld larvae in him for most of his life, so he looked even younger than Dad, who wasn't too ancient looking. Euuwwww on the larvae thing! But he was cool. He had this neat gold tattoo on his forehead from when he'd served as head honcho to a snake called Apophis.
He was free now, as were all the other Jaffa, and he'd married a Jaffa woman called Ishta. They didn't live on Earth, but now that the Stargate was no longer secret, it was pretty easy for him to come visit. When I'd started dating Todd, he'd muttered something about Todd being 'hassac'. Didn't know what that was, but it didn't sound good.
And he'd offered to teach me self-defense techniques that anybody could learn — even someone my size. Considering my parents were so damn tall (six-three and five-nine), how was it I couldn't get past five-four? Genetics must've taken a vacation when I was conceived.
Dad kissed me on my forehead. "Sure thing," he said.
The door opened and I heard my mom come in, humming. Couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but it was a good sign that things hadn't gone down the crapper during the day.
God … my language. Totally Dad's fault. Mom says my very first word was 'Crap'. I could believe that.
"We're up here, Sam!" Dad called out.
Mom came up the steps and entered my bedroom, tugging off the jacket of her dress blues. In her fifties and she was still slim. The other moms hated her for that. But you run around saving the planet and kicking junior officers' butts, and you'd stay slim too. Plus the fact that she could get so absorbed in one of her science things she'd forget to eat.
Dad had once ordered her to get a life. She'd totally done that, but she still loved her science.
"Rough day?" she asked, sitting on my other side and kissing me on the cheek. She wasn't as good at hugging as my dad was, but she was a frickin' genius and the whole reason I hadn't flunked physics last semester. Couldn't have everything, I guess.
"Crappy," I sniffed, then sat up. "But enough about me. Did you manage to get a dress for Dad's retirement do?"
Mom got a twinkle in her eye. "Certainly did," she said. She leaned over to my dad. "I think you'll like it, Jack," she added. "It's blue."
He got a mischievous, some might say shit-eating, grin on his face. "Like that Shavadai dress?"
Mom sighed and grinned. "That was over twenty years ago, Jack. Get over it."
Another in-joke I was never going to get. But the way Dad was looking at my mom right now, I probably didn't want to know. "Christ; get a room, guys," I mumbled.
Mom went pink. "Katherine Charlotte Janet O'Neill!" she yelped. But she was laughing too. "Are you okay, then?"
"I'm good, Mom," I said, flinching at my full name. I hated having to fill out forms for school.
"Good to hear," my dad said. He tugged at my mom's hand. "Let's see this dress then, babe," he added.
'Babe'. If anybody else had ever called my mom 'babe', she would have kicked their ass from here to Sunday.
They went out of the room, laughing like a couple of kids. I heard their bedroom door slam shut and quickly put my head phones on, turning the music up to 'loud'.
Seriously; one traumatized teenager here!
But it was cool, too. What other girl my age had parents who loved each other so much? Maybe I'd find love like that one day too. As long as I stayed out of the military, that was, I added hastily.
WAAF — Western Alliance Air Force.
It's been a very long time since I was fifteen, so I hope I captured Katie all right. LOL.