Colonel Jack O'Neill

Beep... Beep.. Beep. Beep BEEP BEEPBEEP

Crap!

Beep. Beep. Beep..

Think of something else, something calming. No, don't look at the toes.

BEEP BEEPBEEP

Crap!

Beep. Beep. Beep..

Sigh. Thinking of nothing here. Nothing.

Beep. Beep.. Beep... Beep.... Beep..... Beep......

It's like being connected to a lie detector. Only this seems to be a mad-o-meter. I'd been used and abused. I'm entitled to being pissed off. I'd sat through more lectures than I had since that time I scared Sister Angelina. Then, as now, I sat through it all, not looking at anyone, not saying a thing. Damn, I'm too old to act eight. I'm too old to be treated like I'm eight. Let's face it; I'll always be eight - from time to time. Sigh.

So here I sit, as ordered. Ordered mind you, to think about everything I've been told. It's so humiliating to have your CO, a major-general no less, order you to wise up, and fast. Maybe that's what I needed. A good old-fashion kick in the ass. Hammond used heavy boots to do that.

If I were in his boots, I'd probably use heavier ones. My ass is as hard as my head.

The fact that he told me he's cutting me some slack because I'm still chemically compromised was scary. It's like being told you're not in your right mind. That is how Fraiser described it. I'll have to take their word for it. Cause - dammit - I'm missing time in the ol' fron. Some of the stuff they said happened I don't remember at all.

Crap!

Now why couldn't I conveniently, and oh so vividly, not remember making a fool of myself in front of Carter?

Double-crap!

What am I gonna say to her?

What am I gonna say to Jacob?

How am I gonna look at myself in the mirror if I don't find something to say?

Dr MacKenzie

The squeal of rubber tires sliding across asphalt and the scream of overstressed brakes set my teeth on edge; nothing like dying in such an irrigating way.

Only the impact never came.

The screaming and squealing continued, only in my head and it sounded liked, 'I'm alive!' repeatedly. Tearing myself away the delight that my heart still beat, though rather erratically, I found myself staring at two grinning SFs smirked at me from behind the glass of a small jeep used to do patrol duty on the small dirt roads of the Mountain. Cochran pushed me into the back where I soon found myself hanging on for dear life as he hopped a few times, keeping up with the now moving jeep, to suddenly leap in next to me. He looked to be having entirely too much fun to me. And that irritating toothy grin of his was proof of that statement.

"What's going on?" I shouted into the noise of the stampeding vehicles.

"The main gate reported an explosion below them," Cochran shouted into my ear.

"The van!" I knew it had to be, nothing else had moved in or out that I had seen. There was a chance that something coming in had missed a curve...

"Don't know."

Our driver was very young and drove like Mario Andretti desperate for a win at the Indianapolis 500. He was able to cut off most of the pack, placing us third in the jam of transports headed down the mountain. Teal'c was in a Hummer that was in the lead. Glancing back along the column I could see each shotgun position was shouting into talkies or cells, just as ours was.

"Arranging to have the gate open, we won't slow down," Cochran informed me as he pulled me back after a chuckhole had bounced me loose, I grimaced in pain eliciting a concerned look from him. I grinned at him in reassurance. He showed some teeth in reply, and then partially stood up to peer ahead before leaning over the man with the talkie. An unheard conversation passed between them. My heart was hammering in my ears, and my stomach was crawling up my throat. This was just too much excitement, and I hugged my arm wishing I had taken that painkiller early.

Cochran flung himself backwards just as we blasted past the main gate, headed at full speed it seemed for the first hairpin. The jeep leaned alarmingly, and skewed as the tires slid in some gravel on the asphalt. But the youth driving had it under control. Wish I could have said the same. My heart had joined my stomach in my throat.

A worried face blotted out the world.

"You okay there, Mac?"

Afraid to open my mouth, and thus lose a vital organ I nodded. Cochran didn't look convinced. I didn't blame him. I wasn't either.

A shout from our man riding shotgun twisted him away from me. Smoke billowed up from the treetops, too much smoke I thought. We slid through another hairpin, and along the short straight stretch of road a fire could be seen at the next turn. The jeep picked up an alarming amount of speed before we were braking to avoid the two hummers now sliding in what I hoped was a controlled sideways skid to lurch to a stop, canted over as one side of each vehicle had dropped into the ditch below the steep upslope of the mountain. Our jeep jarred sharply, being lighter, it had actually used the second hummer as a deterrent to more forward motion. Cochran had somehow jammed himself between the back of the front seats and me. I heard him grunt as I slammed forward into him, and I saw stars as that jarred my arm.

Finding myself being eyed critically by Cochran and the up to now unseen shot gun, I grunted and held out an arm as I attempted to lift a foot, suddenly lead, over the edge of the jeep to get to the ground. With their help I succeeded. Cochran acted as if he were a yo-yo at the end of its string and about to rebound towards the source of the smoke.

The van could barely be seen for the fire that covered it and had climbed link a single candle flame up the tree it had hit. Vehicles were switched off. The din diminished to be exchanged for something far more emotional. It took me a beat or two to figure out what I was hearing over the roar of the fire. Just for a fleeting second I felt surprised that its roar wasn't the dominant sound, and then horror. No, the fire wasn't the loudest sound here, but some far worse was.

'Oh, God!'

Screams. There were screams. Shrill, like a human should not be capable of. A pop cut one out of the chorus.

Churning forward, I met resistance to the string that now was mine.

Cochran's anguished face above that resistance wasn't going to stop me, I don't know how, but I pushed him away. Then I met the immovable object - Teal'c.

Still I struggled. The screams. I knew one of them belonged to Manny. It's funny that if you've ever spoken to someone you will always be able to recognize their unrecognizable voice lifted in terror and pain that no human should be forced to endure. He needed help - now.

'Oh, God. Nonononono.'

Teal'c's hand was planted firmly on my chest and Cochran's arms were like a straightjacket from behind, my struggles were useless. I listened as the terrible high-pitched scream abruptly broke off and another explosion rocked the van, no one would ever guess it had ever been white.

Teal'c drew my attention from the horrible conflagration; I couldn't read any emotion on his face that I recognized. But something deep inside told me to run and hide and since I couldn't, I relaxed instead - defeated. Teal'c nodded and removed his hand with a minute nod of his head. With a military precision about-face he headed towards the milling crowd of SFs expressing their impotence in their nervous movements. The back of my mind told me I'd have a full schedule over the next couple of weeks because of this, and sleepless nights of my own - heal thyself physician. Far easier to say than do, I was certain of that.

Cochran still has me in a death grip. So confining that thought I'd explode if I weren't freed instantly.

"Captain," I spit out, the word full of my anger and my own impotence, and not a small amount of hate for being held back. Violently I shrugged, like I'm trying to rid myself of some vile encumbrance. His hands fall away.

All I could do was stare at the licking flames and remember poor Manny, poor terrified Manny. The crunching of steps away from the funeral pyre and me also flashed up a scene of Cochran comforting Manny, a man who did not deserve it in the least. Isiah...

I swung around in time to see Cochran stalk away to the drop-off at the other side of the road. His movements were too controlled, and yet too casual - a study in contradiction. Easily he picked up a fist-sized rock, tossing it into the air and catching it as he completed the last couple of feet to the edge of the road.

Higher and higher the rock flew. His sudden stillness a deception; the rock should have been crushed by the pressure he exerted on it. His muscles bunched, he was an explosion waiting to happen.

I startled when it came, all of that energy and emotion launched the rock out and away to soar into the nothingness that mountains can create. Did I imagine the bellow of pain that blast-waved over me as I watched the rock suddenly drop, a victim to gravity?

With military precision Isiah turned, and with an easy and relaxed stride he walked toward me. He radiated a barely controlled tension, eyes staring straight ahead, to never flicker to me as he strode by. That mask that so terrified me sat firmly on his face as he headed for the vehicle we had commandeered.

Maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe he was the only person here that wasn't insane.

Shaking the stink of burned flesh from me like a dog would water I quickly ground into motion. Where he goes, so do I. I think this was far harder on him, than me; and I wondered why.

I would have killed myself in an attempt to do the impossible - saving Manny from his own hellfire. Cochran held back, that decision I did not envy him - far easier to play the stupid hero than the smart one.

Dr Janet Fraiser

"He shall not have time," declared Teal'c solemnly. He would stick to the plan; this had to work.

With a deliberate glance at the entrance to the Infirmary Teal'c performed that wildly sexy semi-bow, pirouetted and strode for Sam who had just entered, he paused to politely exchange pleasantries before he exited - a man on a mission.

Sam's pale face swiveled towards me from wistfully gazing in the direction of the colonel's private room. My beckoning wave pushed her into motion towards me as I ducked into my office to settle behind my desk. Just a breather before she arrived.

And then she was there, stood hesitantly at the doorjamb, looking like anything at all could set her to running in the other direction. She been that way ever since that unfortunate attempt of hers to heal the colonel, and no amount of badgering her seem to relief the guilt she exuded.

"Sam, come on in. Coffee?"

I busied myself with fixing a cup for myself from my private pot, hoping she'd say yes.

"Thanks, no."

Guess she knew what the subject of my attempt at coffee klatch would have been. Sigh.

"Here to see the Colonel?" I asked hopefully.

"Err, no."

Darn.

With a steaming mug secure in my hand I resumed my position behind my desk, wishing I could pop off my shoes to let my toes warm up. But that would be avoiding the issue, Sam and her guilt, but more importantly her avoidance of Jack. He needed his friends around him, their support. And did she actually believe he'd blame her for any of what happened. The man's not ignorant.

"Why," I asked, point-blank, eye-to-eye and dared her to avoid the question.

"You know why, Janet. What do you want from me?"

She was being defensive and I couldn't blame her one bit. She had placed herself at the center of attention and messed up. It wasn't the messing up that was so bad, it was that everyone knew it was the most likely outcome. Sam had let her feelings lead her down the wrong path and Jack's feelings had allowed her to drag down the same one. Together they'd screwed up - very publicly. This was exactly why Sam and he had insisted on leaving those feelings in that room. Her more than he, but they both knew what could happen, what had nearly happened during that mission to destroy Apophis' newest Mother Ship.

The worst was that no matter how many people told her that she didn't have that kind of influence over Colonel O'Neill she wasn't dumb enough to believe it. She knew better, I knew better and Jack should have; but he would never admit that. I'm not sure that he admits it even to himself deep down.

But this wasn't the point. It wasn't about what we know or don't know. It's about acknowledging it, keeping it alive and allowing it to become a danger to them both - to us all. This was about her current inability to practice denial.

"I want nothing more than what you want, a return to status quo."

Sam's eyes flashed with anger, and that pleased me to no end. Better mad than sad any day of the week.

"You want me to deny what's happened? For the colonel to deny it?"

"It has worked well until now. I always say go with what works."

No answer was forth coming, Sam was on her feet, her mouth working; too shocked to come up with a reply. Or smart enough to not say something she would regret. In a flash she was gone.

Sigh.

Colonel Jack O'Neill

The fact that I was even here - alone - seemed to say something to me. Teal'c wasn't one to drop his guard and after the last couple of days, even less likely to. What with all those rats accidentally going off the road just outside the main gate, and very neatly putting an end to our getting at anything resembling the truth. The whole incident had badly shaken the base; everyone was under suspicion now.

I'd have to have been dead not to have noticed all the extra security, and just how many of them seemed to have me as their special assignment was embarrassing. So I'm thinking that this little mission has approval from very high up.

At least I wasn't crazy enough to try to hobble back to the scene of the crime; I'm using the same mode of transport now as then. And that fact is further evidence of just how approved this mission is. Just look at the total disregard evident in leaving transport within easy reach, unattended and unmanned. And so damned many of them too.

Against my will I grinned, it was funny really. Janet would never have left three wheel chairs outside my room, or even in the Infirmary - unless they were chained to the wall - with me in residence. She figured that out during my first occasion under her care - yepper, smart woman Janet.

Nope, someone else was behind that glut of transport. Someone not as smart was behind this escape attempt. Hmmmm. Janet and MacKenzie seemed a bit cozy until he got his walking papers. Lucky...

Whoa, MacKenzie...

My chair glided to a halt, all my attention suddenly on just how alone I really was. That yahoo was just flaky enough to have set a trap. He'd love to see me right where he believed I belonged - a rubber room. Absently, I rubbed my hand along the tire of the chair and listened. There were only the echoes of distant fans and the sounds of the elevator cars moving in the nearby shafts; and my heart, quickened by the thought of MacKenzie and what he might be up to. I wasn't up to this cat and mouse stuff - not yet.

Sudden pain across my palm pulled me from imagining him skulking along the dark side of the hall, with bulky nurses bigger than Teal'c in tow, complete with bright flashes off of a readied needle and the floating ghostly form of a straitjacket. I snatched my sweaty hand away from where I'd been trying to scrap off skin and smoothed the pain away with the thumb of my other hand; with a little help from some spit glue.

Damn, I'm nervous. I won't admit to more. It has to be the aftermath of the drugs. It has to be. I'm not given to imagining, daydreaming or any of the stuff that will get an airman in Special Forces killed. Always alert, always on top of it, never losing track. That's me. That's Jack O'Neill. Or had been.

It can't be the thought of MacKenzie that has me giving myself pep talks like this. No. It's facing Carter. After eight long days of having Teal'c show me just how much of a Simon LeGree he can be, I've finally worked up the guts to see about putting things right between us. About finding out if we can.

I'm not sure if that's possible anymore - too much water under the bridge.

I should have known something was up; this was a setup. Someone's attempt to get the team bonds back where they belong. Daniel finally joined in by starting this string of events, Teal'c just handed me over like some kind of condemned prisoner; dragged in different kind of chains to the gate room to see Jacob off. Crap! I'd already made my peace with Carter senior. Yeah, it wasn't the greatest peace. Just a promise to not kill any Tok'ra on sight, least of all him. Someone didn't think I'd put enough effort into it and it needed repeating. My guess was Hammond.

Leaning back into the uncomfortably taut back sling of the wheelchair, I sighed. A hand over my eyes, my other had my thigh in a death grip. I could feel it, something I never imagined to feel again - all because of Sam's dad. It had been so embarrassing to have him beg for my forgiveness, and not just him - Selmak.

There in full view of the control room - for crying out loud!

Bad enough I was in a wheel chair, worse that Daniel was pushing me around like some kind of invalid who couldn't wipe his own ass, like someone with an acute need for diapers. But to have an ex-general practically get down on his knees to me was way more than I could take; it should have been that bitch that did all that distasteful groveling. One of these days...

Groan.

And when Daniel finally got me outta there I exploded. I made my own way to my other keeper minus him. Daniel I'd left a smoking emotional casualty standing stunned in the dark behind me. But I wasn't alone, never that anymore it seemed, shadows followed my every turn like I was gonna make a run for it. I woulda if I coulda.

I'd done a good job of pissing off a lot of people lately. But, dammit... I... I... I could be such a jerk, a louse, the most ungrateful SOB under this or any other sun. Eventually people found out just who I really was.

I'm back in hard-and-fast motion with that admission, headed for Carter's on-base quarters. Yep, the place where I'd made such a fool of myself. Round two.

No sense in putting this off, and I rapped on the door. Took me a few beats to realize nothing was happening.

"Carter, come on. Open up, we have to talk," I said loud enough that the words echoed faintly along the darkened hall. Why is it that every time I have to do something like this, it's night, or dark or really bad weather? Makes me want to check my reflection in a mirror, do I have one?

"Carter," I banged on the door this time. "Carter!"

"Sir?"

My heart was in my throat before I could draw another breath and I felt like I was gonna pass out. Damn, I was in bad shape. "Carter," I croaked, and jerked my head around. She stood there, blocking the faint light. I didn't need to see her face, her body told me everything. She was ready to bolt, to run. I had to prevent that; we had to talk. And I was willing to push all her buttons to achieve my mission.

"Sam, please..."

"No, Jack..."

It was like something out of a bad movie; we each started to speak at the same time, we each broke off to stare blankly at one another. Where were the cue cards I wondered, sure there should be cue cards for this lame scene.

"I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me Sam. I'm here for the duration," it sounded tough, it sounded like a command and I hoped it got me what I needed - time.

"Sir..."

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away from here. We are going to talk." It's damned hard to look commanding from a wheel chair, but it must have worked. Without a word she stepped around me, unlocked the door and pushed it open. She turned on the room lights and stepped back to allow me to enter.

It was then that I got my first good look at Carter, in the light that poured out of that door. She wasn't one to do a lot of crying, but she must have been, her face was swollen in all the right places. Reminded me of Sara's first trimester, three months of irrational tears, you never forget how the woman you love looks after crying their heart out over something - never.

And I was the reason. If I'd been on my feet I'd have stumbled at the devastation I saw on her face and I felt ashamed. Just by existing I caused her pain.

I should have come sooner. I should never have lowered my guard and allowed her to touch my heart, she would have been better off. O'Neill, you stupid fool.

Ruthlessly I pushed forward into the room, drawing attention to what I saw would only hurt her. And I'd done enough of that already. Reaching the middle of the room, I swung around to face her as she pulled the door shut behind her; she flattened against it, just as far as she could get from me. It hurt.

"Sam... eh, Carter..." I changed names as something indefinable fell across her face, something very like pain. "Carter. Thank you."

That indefinable disappeared under a whole lot of shocked confusion.

"I should have thanked you sooner, but... I'm kinda messed up, according to Fraiser. I apologize."

Carter's mouth opened and than snapped shut. Then her lips pressed into a firm straight line as her eyes narrowed.

"Apologize? Thank me? For what? Do you know what I did to you?"

Carter's voice was high and trembled and her eyes were hard. Her tears didn't show, but you sure could hear them. That's my major, she could convey her emotions, yet had enough of a rein on them to prevent them from making her appear like an emotional woman. Not that I didn't see her as a woman, a very wonderful, brilliant, beautiful and tough as nails woman. She was oh so much more than that.

"Yes, you tried to help me, despite myself," I spoke from the heart, as earnestly as I could.

It was the truth, plain and simple. This stupid SOB needed help and she provided it - or tried to. If not for her, I was pretty certain that by the end of twelve months I would have been remembered only by the missing plane that didn't fly over the plot of earth I would have been buried in.

Carter pushed away from the door and stalked over to me, she wanted my hand in the worst way and I didn't fight her. She turned it over-and-over, running her strong, but very feminine fingers over my rough ones. Things stirred that had no business stirring. Carter kept her eyes down, not meeting mine.

"I destroyed this hand..."

"Carter..."

"I did! And Dad said that Selmak might not have been able to fix it if they had arrived any later than then did. If..."

"It's okay. See it works," I slipped my hand out of her grip and waggled the fingers; I couldn't catch her eyes, even when I ducked down. My attempt at lightening the conversation fell flat.

"You could have lost that hand, or worse I could have forced you to use a sarcophagus to fix my mistake. I'm good at that, forcing you into doing things - real good."

'What?'

Is this what's got her back up. She forced me? Fat lot of chance of that, my son didn't even have that power and I'd do anything for him - anything. Nudge maybe, but not force - never that - she could never do that. She wasn't capable of that.

Carter stepped back, twisted around and stood there with her back to me. I couldn't let her take that kind of blame, to believe that kind of thing of herself. I had to act.

Now was the time to use my high card. Slowly I rose to my feet and stood. My physio sessions had been exhausting and doing this now was chancy. I could feel my legs trembling already. Slowly, carefully I closed the distance between Carter and I. Only a soft pressure of my hand on her shoulder and she turned and buried her face in my chest, her arms wrapped around me so tight that I could barely breathe. That tight grip of hers was a good thing, cause I was certain that I would have fallen for sure without it. Together we kept each other whole.

There were no tears or sobs. She just clung to me, and I clung to her. I didn't need to hear the words and I didn't need to say them. We were saying goodbye.

Not the final, never to see one another again goodbye. But a resumption of the agreement reached over the revelation of the Zatarc testing, the revealing of our feelings back in the bowels of Apophis' handy-dandy new Mother Ship. Only a shimmering field of force and a bond that would not break between us, we would die together, rather than one of us live without the other. That was so not good - the living or the dying. Neither of us had that luxury.

Carter was Earth's greatest intellectual treasure, one I routinely endangered. But to not do so would have been an insult to her. I understood her need to stand on her own two feet, and she was very capable of doing that. Losing her would have been a tragedy. I refuse to allow that to happen. And if that means that I deny my heart - by god, I will.

Major Sam Carter

Slowly his arms tightened around me, his chest hardly moved, as if he held his breath. I could feel his trembling. I knew Teal'c had put him through the wringer today. Standing was so stupid of him. But it was the right thing to do; the right way to reach me, and Jack O'Neill always seemed to do the right thing.

I wanted to make this moment last for an eternity; I never wanted to let him go. He is my addiction and withdrawal too awful to contemplate.

It is said that if you truly love someone you have to let them go. He was doing that for me and I needed to do it for him. This was agony for me, how much more so for him? It was so unfair for him to bear any more pain, especially because of my own selfishness. This is right, our return to our quiet denial and an unspoken hope for the future - our future - together.

And just as unspoken is the widespread belief that Jack O'Neill is the future, that he will do something, somewhere. And that act will free us all. You can see it in Teal'c's eyes when he speaks of freeing his fellow Jaffa, those soft brown eyes, so different from the steel he is, will fasten on the colonel. And a hush will settle over his words, a wonder, an absolute belief that this man he had given all for, was the key to the salivation of his people.

Thor too believes hungrily, so hungrily that he moves cautiously and carefully. Thor, more than any, understands how easily hope can be destroyed by wanting it too much, that a hard and fast grab at it will shatter it. He protects the colonel as much as he dares, but he also places him at great risk. Trusting that the uniqueness that is Jack will protect him to reach that unknown time and place of destiny.

Why else would the Nox, and the Tollen place so much trust in him?

They can see it and feel it as much as I can. The universe whirls and swirls around this man. And he is blind to it. But unerringly he can reach out and touch what needs to be touched to set in motion the events that must be put into motion; usually at great risk to himself, if not physically, then emotionally and spiritually. He suffers greatly for each decision, holding only himself responsible for the failures and never dreaming he had any hand in the successes.

I knew when I told him to go, to run, to save himself, that he would be forever in pain. But he needed to live. I'm not so sure that my survival would have made a whit of difference in the destiny he must achieve. A destiny I'm certain is not just his, but of every living soul on this planet, if not this poor little backwater galaxy.

For this man I love, I would deny my feelings for his sake, to perhaps make his journey easier. I will lock up my heart and hide the key where only he can find it. How could I believe there is any other for me? He is the one.

His knee slipped between my legs, he fairly shook with the effort to remain standing. He doesn't look as heavy as he is, I've had more than one occasion to find out the hard way. With ease of practice I got him into his chair, he smiled his thanks and we just gazed into each other's eyes - lost. I could feel him trying to memorize all he could, as if this would be the very last time he would ever see me. And I guess in a way it is.

"Someday," he said and his hand caught mine in a tight hold, "I promise." With obvious reluctance, and a look of regret in his eyes, Jack pulled back, swung his wheel chair around and steadily moved away. Back to his role, his life, his isolation - our isolation - each of us playing the role of the brave airman, slaves to a greater destiny.

Unable to bear it any longer I softly shut out the sight by closing the door, clicked off the light and leaned there against the new barrier between us. I remained there for a long, long time.

Dr Daniel Jackson

"Daniel!"

"What? You think that little bit of juice and toast, that you've only half eaten by the way, will get you through the day?"

Jack looked at the egg and may have turned a little green.

"Eat it."

"You eat it," my friend spat back, his eyes averted from the plate.

"And what would that accomplish?"

"Getting it out of my sight before I toss my toast and juice back up." The lack of a smirk told me he wasn't kidding.

"If you can't eat a proper meal you must be returned to the Infirmary."

"Maybe we should take him back to Janet, Teal'c. He doesn't look so good." And he didn't.

Jack's answer was to glare at both of us, but his hand picked up a fork and with a visible effort of will the egg was wolfed down. I'm sure he never tasted it; maybe that was the whole idea.

"You still have some toast. Maybe that'll, err, help with the..." I waved a finger up and down my cheek to indicate his obvious discomfort; he was still greenish.

The toast disappeared the same way; he treated it all like a dare.

"Satisfied?"

"Ah, not yet. If it doesn't made a reappearance - involuntarily - then I will be."

"It won't."

"How about another one?"

"You're pushing it, Daniel."

I couldn't help the smirk, it did wonders for Jack, he was more red than green now.

Capt. Isiah Cochran

"Come on Colonel, it's not like you to hold that kind of grudge," I insisted.

I wasn't about to let Jack do to Mac what he did to Frank. Most of all I wasn't gonna let him do it to himself. He needed to do this for himself more than anyone, though it had pissed me off to know that Mac had this thing hanging over him.

"You don't know me as well as you think."

O'Neill glared at me from the chair he sat in, one hand constantly kneading one thigh or the other, occasionally lifting a leg a few inches off the floor, like they were constantly tingling or something. I tried to ignore what he was doing, best not to remind him that he was sitting and I was standing.

"Possible, but you don't know 'him' like I do," I shot back.

Jeez, Jack wake up and smell the roses, you and I both know what's going on here. Lets kick the denial gig.

"You like 'him' so much, you be his friend. I don't trust him." Jack stretched out a leg and grimaced, he gave all the signs that sitting wasn't at all comfortable. I worried that maybe he should be lying down, maybe he was pushing too hard.

"I am his friend, as much as he'll let me be. And I'm your friend too," I declared with as much sincerity as I could.

"Are you?"

"Oh that hurts."

"I hardly know you."

"Have to prove myself then? Maybe take a bullet for you?"

"I take my own bullets and I decide when someone's a friend, or not."

"You have high standards."

"I'm still alive because of them."

"And your friends?"

"That's why I decide who they are."

"You can take only so many bullets then."

"Rather me than them."

"Bullshit!"

"Scuse me?"

The man was beautifully stunned. What's wrong Jack, not used to have anyone talk back at ya anymore?

"You heard me - bullshit. You are not the cold-hearted bastard you pretend to be. You've been taking chances, look at the friends you have. Dr. Jackson, Teal'c and that ravishing Major Carter. See, you even blushed."

"The hell I did!"

Couldn't keep the grin off my face as O'Neill's face reddened even more, it was fast approaching fire engine.

"There's gotta be a mirror around here," I started to rummage around, giving the guy a chance to compose himself. Agitating him was the goal, not to have him stroke out. Jeez, Isiah.

"Stop that," Jack yelped out, banging his wooden crutch against his chair for good measure.

Did he actually use that thing? Bet he didn't, too proud to be seen using a crutch of any type.

"Only if you'll listen," I insisted. His silence was good enough agreement for me and I plowed right on. "Mac took a bullet for your Dr. Jackson, took it on the second try. But you probably would have taken it on the first. Is that why you won't drop that disciplinary note from his jacket? The fact he didn't take it the first time and died in the doing?"

"And what business is it of yours? Hammond specifically said I'd have carte blanche on his punishment."

"Then punish him. Stand him at the gate in his underwear, require him to spit shine that fuel guzzler you drive... but don't punish him for what happened between him and Dr Jackson with that Goa'uld killing slug. He did what he was convinced he had to do. He didn't know any better and there wasn't any malice intended, why assign it?" I had to admit O'Neill was stubborn, he sat there trying to come up with a good argument, but he had to know there wasn't one. "You're not that kind of man are you? Didn't you learn anything from what happened with Frank?"

"That's none your goddamned business!"

Whoa, way past fire engine red now.

"Maybe, maybe not. But you forget that I saw you two as friends and as enemies after Iraq. I may have been just a kid, but I'm who I am today because of the two of you. Frank never gave up hoping for your forgiveness, he damn well knew that the friendship would never resume. But he was convinced that you'd do the standup thing and forgive him. Dammit, Jack, he thought you were dead. And from what I heard, he would have been captured or killed for sure if he had thought otherwise. He'd never have left if he knew you were alive. Do you want to do the same to MacKenzie? Are you that much of a bastard?"

"Get the Hell out, Captain!"

"If you insist, 'Colonel.' You tried to get Mac kicked out of the SGC back then, you can't hide that. If you'd succeeded Danny would be dead right now. And probably Eric and a few others of the people you won't acknowledge as friends. How would you be able to live with that knowledge? They say it's best to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Even as an enemy he's valuable, he's a known quantity. Being the smart man you are, I know you'll make the right decision."

"Careful, Captain..."

O'Neill's alarming change from bright red to pale, was starting to panic me, maybe I overdid this a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, captain to your colonel, beside I never liked being a captain. I'll be back."

Yeah, Isiah, leave with a threat on your lips, but leave now, the man isn't looking good. Crap, I pushed too hard too soon.

"A threat?"

"A promise, friends always come back. And like it or not, we are."

I shot back at him and quickly closed the door, hoping I hadn't done him any more harm then upset his idea of who Mac was. The hollow thud of his crutch sounded as the door closed on my heel, telling me I had gone too far. I'd pushed him. I'd be lucky I wasn't the one standing guard in my underwear at the gate. The risk was worth it though, more for him, than Mac. I could always do a little hocus-pocus to that little slip of paper.

Best I go check on Mac now, so I turned around just in time to have a huge meaty hand grab my throat and push me up against the wall. Oh, Isiah, today is so not your day. Crap.

"Ah, Teal'c. How are ya, big guy?" I wheezed through his grip.

He didn't answer, just squeezed a little harder. And that damned video of Manny's interrogation flashed through my head. Relax Isiah, it isn't like you tried to kill, injure or maim anyone. Ah... at least not physically. I grinned and choked out a question.

"Have you spoken to Dr Fraiser?"

The man's deadpan expression couldn't hide the flash of confusion, and his fingers let up enough for me to actually put my feet flat on the ground.

"I have."

"Funny that," his grip tightened - sooo not the time to be joking around here Isiah. "So have I."

"Indeed."

"Ah, yes. And I think I overdid it a bit. I'm sorry Teal'c. But dammit, you know how he can be," if I had been sincere with Jack I was being very sincere with Teal'c.

The big guy seemed to be considering my words and I was hoping he didn't want a detailed mission report, cause I wasn't gonna give one for Jack's sake. Teal'c could crumple me if he wanted; my lips were sealed on the subjects discussed. I would never break that confidence.

"He can be most stubborn," Teal'c declared, but he let me go.

"Maybe you should check on him? I didn't like how he looked."

And just like that I didn't exist anymore. As Teal'c melted into O'Neill's room I whirled and ran like hell in the opposite direction. I've gotta be more careful next time - way more careful.

Teal'c

"You've been hanging around Janet too much. You know that don't you."

O'Neill lay sweating profusely, chest heaving with his efforts. My brother was not fighting as well as in the past against his body's reluctance to recover. In the short time I've known the man, I have seen him age. Jaffa do not age as humans do, it is not so apparent. Yet, he is strong and determined - when properly motivated.

"No, I do not."

"Physio is not the Iron Man. Let's slow it down," he stated, fending off my efforts to mop the sweat from his body. I allowed him to take the towel from me and attempt it himself. Too long has he been without control, I will give over as much as I can.

"I have seen many physio sessions. DanielJackson has put more effort into past sessions that do you."

Even O'Neill can be manipulated. His aim of the sodden towel is flawless and I consider allowing it to connect with his intended target, and quickly dismiss the idea, catching it just short of my face.

"Is that so! Watch."

Clenching his hands into the matting O'Neill lifted one weighted ankle at a time as far from the floor as possible. It may have been only inches higher than earlier, but it was enough. He fights. This is both good and bad. Half of any battle is knowing when to break from the enemy to fight another day.

"Use prudence my brother. If you wish to eat you must be able to get to the Commissary without aid, as you agreed."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, to stay out of the Infirmary and out of Janet's clutches, I do as you say."

"Indeed."

"Tyrant!"

Lt. Eric Van Sickle

With the hollow metallic thump of the SGC's gate ramp under my feet I knew I was home. Only it didn't feel like home, not anymore. PBX 123 had that feel, but I guess home was with my team below.

The heaviness in my chest told me that this part of my life was about to end, that my team would be broken up and scattered to the four corners of the earth. This felt so much like failure. I was losing my home and family, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it, except to survive. This wasn't the end, just a new beginning I kept telling myself. I wish I were a better liar.

Deliberately I forced myself to smile, but more so I forced myself to feel the smile. And to my surprise, I did.

There was nothing that I couldn't handle, nothing that could long keep me from any goal I set myself. This is what I'd come away with. Myself.

The friendships built on this mission were a bonus beyond my wildest dreams. We may all be going our separate ways, but we all knew how to keep in touch. Addresses, phone numbers and e-mail addys had been exchanged. I even had Smooth Drake's, why I wasn't sure.

And Monty had made sure that I had Tina Ironhorse's contact information. Dennis and he are of the opinion that Tina did not do what she did out of choice. I find it hard to hold that kind of compassion for the woman after what she tried to do. But I promised that I would try to discover the why of her actions.

"Lt. Van Sickle," rang out of the loud speakers causing everyone to look up to the control room where General Hammond stood. "Please report to me."

With a salute and a quick okay sign, I dived into the crowd to work my way up to his office. He was there and waiting.

"Sit down, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Sir."

Sitting stiffly and my eye was glued to him, as he very obviously looked me over.

"You don't look too bad. How do you feel?"

The concern on his face warmed me and I answered honestly.

"Been better, Sir."

"That good, and dispense with the formalities. This is... an informal conversation."

Of course, now I was nervous. When a general tells you something like this, it can't be good.

"Okaaaay."

Hammond smiled broadly at my answer and I felt my face heat.

"Relax son, this won't be pleasant, but it's not as bad as you imagining"

Yeah, well, I could imagine a lot.

"The first item is the most unpleasant. Tina Ironhouse was found dead in her cell two days ago. She hung herself."

He might as well have dumped a truckload of brick on me with that statement, he hadn't been kidding that this wasn't going to be pleasant.

"She..."

"Not a word, not one syllable passed her lips. Even when Teal'c visited her."

My eye widened at that revelation, the woman was tough. And this made me wonder what had twanged Monty and Dennis enough to have compassion for her.

"Also there is the matter of those involved on the attempt on Colonel O'Neill's life."

And for what seemed like hours I listened as General Hammond explained what had happened here on base, giving me far more information than Teal'c had about the incident and this was the first I'd heard about their deaths. And hard as I tried, I felt more than satisfaction at the idea that they had died. I knew that justice had, and had not been done, but it was emotionally gratifying in a sick sorta way. I couldn't bring myself to feel ashamed about my reaction.

"But there is still the problem of you."

"Me?"

"Circumstances have prevented our determining who targeted you. We do know why, and that why must be protected. Your unique genetics could be a valuable weapon against the Goa'uld."

General Hammond must have seen my dismay, and quickly continued.

"You are not going to be the subject of experimentation, the President made that abundantly clear. All that will be asked is the occasional blood and tissue samples. Your existence and uniqueness has been placed under the highest possible security, anyone wanting to know about you will have to go to the President first. You entire future is in his hands."

It took me a few moments to digest this, and I didn't like it.

"I'm in protective custody, I'll never leave here."

The answer was clear, I had just become persona non grata, and I no longer existed. The weave of the rug suddenly became very engrossing.

"Son... Son, listen to me," the sad and somewhat horrified pleading in this strong man's voice jerked my eye up to his.

"I won't lie to you, in the beginning that is exactly what it will be like, but we all have high hopes of ferreting out the threat to you. Invisibility will not be your permanent state."

Somehow I just couldn't believe him.

"Arrangements have been made that will make this period as painless as possible. First, you are now officially a full lieutenant, by Presidential Decree."

"What?"

"Additionally, you will begin a course of studies that will ensure you rapid advance up the ranks..."

"Is this just some way to mollify me?"

My voice rang with anger and I shook with it.

"No. It is not."

Hammond's authority dripped from those clipped words, calming me like nothing else could have.

"I apologize, Sir."

"I understand, son. It's all a lot to take in, and we've barely started."

I mouthed back the 'barely started' part, shocked out of my military protocol entirely. Hammond nodded and smiled back. And I know that I flushed again. Damned emotions.

For the next hour or more Hammond lead me through the President's expectations of my future service to him. My Commander and Chief was placing me in charge of a program called the Mirror Site, the same program I'd just done the survey on, the reason we were we all had been on PBX 123.

I had achieved my goal. Colonel O'Neill's dream was coming true. We'd be keeping injured airmen and others from the various armed forces branches that could no longer meet fitness standards for the front lines of the SGC would be assigned to the Mirror Site. I should have been happy... proud, elated even. And I did feel them, only I also felt cheated, betrayed and like a failure.

"Why me?" I'd asked at one point.

Hammond proceeded to embarrass me in a way I'd never been. He told me that Colonel O'Neill wasn't the only person to have faith in me and described in great and excruciating detail all the good reports of my instructors, peers and even the early reports from my team.

According to the general I was the best person for the job. Yes, young - and yes, not of sufficient rank. But the President of the United State had every confidence that these two hurdles would take care of themselves in due time.

It was so unprecedented that I found it hard to believe. It had been so out in left field for me to have commanded the team to PBX 123, this was out on the edge of the unseen universe.

Hammond was forthcoming with the why of me getting that impossible command. It seems that Colonel O'Neill had written it up as a training exercise. Hammond had countersigned it. The SGC did train their own and it was tradition that their training was... for lack of a better word, unorthodox.

"Sir? The team. Are they... will they..."

"I'm sorry, Son. But yes. They will also be under the same seal of secrecy; they are being briefed right now. They will be given the choice of serving here in the SGC, or returning to PBX 123. I believe that they will all chose to return there with you. There is much to do there and all of them have enough seniority to head their own departments."

The man was watching for my reaction, so I stifled the urge to hold my head and straightened my back instead. His fleeting smile approved of my choice.

"But, no one as junior as me gets a command this big? This isn't right."

Hammond chuckled. "That's what I told the President. So there is a solution. You are directly under the command of Colonel O'Neill, he is officially the head of SG-1 and Second in Command of the SGC, while secretly in full command of the SGC-Mirror as it is now officially designated."

This was too much, and I began to open my mouth to tell General Hammond that, only he brought up his hand and resumed.

"Yes, I know. This is too much for just one man. In the Colonel's absence you will report to me, all reports will be copied to me, I will do all the forwarding with the help of my own administrative assistant, a trusted member of this command. You, with the help of those who return with you, will do all the work of the command as if you were its commander. Colonel O'Neill is to be considered advisory only. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir. Crystal." I grinned at this. It had all been neatly thought out and arranged. Even though it still felt like I was dreaming the impossible dream. I would do my best to meet the challenge.

Hammond rose and offered his hand and I stood and took it.

"Good luck, son. I know you'll do us all proud. Now get out of my office. We both have better things to do than chew the fat."

I snapped into a parade ground stance and shot off a salute. He waved me off, dropping his eyes to the pile of paperwork that littered his desk.

I could have sworn I heard him say something about 'hanging around Jack too much' as I shot out of the door to find my people.

Dr Daniel Jackson

Jack snored softly under Teal'c's watchful eye. Papers covered the wide bed he lay on, propped up by a couple of pillows. I knew Teal'c and he were working hard to get him fit, but I had no idea there was this much paperwork involved.

Even as I watched Jack began to restlessly move in his sleep, he still suffered from vivid dreams and nightmares about what had happened on PBX 123. All of us knew to wake him when that started. I sat at the equally paper covered table to wait.

It gave me a little time to mull over how Teal'c explained his behavior as Jack's life had hung in the balance, when it looked as if Teal had abandoned him. Leaving Jack open to give up, and die, his hope gone. Teal'c said that he knew there was nothing he could do to dissuade Jack, but knew that something would happen to change his mind. It always did. That he trusted in Jack's fate to fix the problem. Thus his loyalty had never wavered - honor had been served. And in no way should I have felt otherwise.

It all boiled done to simple faith. Teal'c had faith that Jack, even after a few false starts, would do the right thing. I stared thoughtfully at my sleeping friend and wondered if perhaps there was something to the idea that Jack had a fate and it would not allow him to simply die before that fate could be accomplished, though it did not seem to mind taking him to the very edge of death along the way.

Jack's movements increased suddenly, all the signs of a troubled sleep.

When papers actually started to slide off the bed Teal'c approached him to grip the nearest wrist, the same arm that had been broken and healed, and pressed it down. But he was careful to watch the far arm; Jack was certainly capable of rearing up and clobbering anyone who touched him while asleep.

"Mmphh," his arm came up to press his hand to his face, and to my delight that knee rose as it always had on his coming around.

"DanielJackson is here."

"Danny?"

"Here, Jack. What's with all the paper?"

We were preserving Jack's dignity by ignoring just why he had been awakened; I was a convenient excuse.

"Yeah, lots of paper, courtesy of Walter."

"I hear Eric and company are on base."

"Heard that too, I got an e-mail and expect him to drop by tonight some time, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment."

Jack's face lit up as he spoke, finally something was going right here.

"So?"

"You might say the President couldn't stand the idea that I was flat on my back doing pretty much nothing. He's approved the Mirror Site."

Now this was really good news.

"Congratulations, Jack. I know how much effort you put in to making it happen."

"Don't congratulate me Danny-boy, it was Eric's doing, he and his team. He bought them together and forged them into a unit. I'm still trying to figure out how come I seem to be doing all the paperwork though."

"Then you're in command?" I asked, afraid of his answer. Maybe they were going to transfer Jack; he had a lot of knowledge and experience, too much to lose being in command of a first contact team.

"Well, yes and no. I seem to be the designated figurehead, looks like I'm in command, but the kid is doing all the work," Jack smirked in high form.

"O'Neill only has to endure the tedious paperwork for two weeks," Teal'c volunteered. Teal'c doesn't necessarily do that so the timing had some kind of importance.

I never got to find out because there was a knock on the door and a familiar voice called out.

"Sir, are you decent?"

"Unfortunately I am Major, come on in," Jack bellowed with something of his old vigor and volume.

Sam's face popped around the edge of the door, she looked good. I knew that she and Jack had worked something out between them. They were the only ones who knew just what.

"Sir, General Hammond asked me to extend an invitation to you."

"An invite? What's that all about? Do I hafta dress up in the penguin suit?" The man could do little boy contrite so well, it should be illegal. But it made Sam laugh; we all laughed.

"No, Sir. It's just an informal welcome to the SGC-Mirror staff," Sam supplied.

"Is that the name they picked?" I enquired.

"Seems so, Danny. Might change though, you know how we military types are," Jack challenged.

"Don't."

"Do.

"Don't"

"Do too!"

"Do not, Jack. All I know is once they pick a name they stick with it right or wrong. You should be happy they didn't call it Jack's Folly."

"Yeah, you're right, wouldn't want that handle." Jack turned his attention back to Sam; he looked at her just a beat too long, appraising what he saw. A ghost of a smile flashed across her face, just before he spoke again. "When and where is this little get-together, Major?"

"In a week. It'll be here on the Mountain."

"The Mountain," I asked confused. "You mean the SGC, don't you, Sam?"

"No, I mean the Mountain. Actually on the land that surrounds Cheyenne Mountain. You remember that little creek don't you, Sir?" Sam switched the conversation back to Jack. He leaned back, both hands behind his head thinking.

"Yeah," a hand slipped out from under his head to help him convey his words, "I do. Sweet little secret that is, some of the best wild trout left in Colorado. I had to get special permission to just dip a line in it; protected ya know."

"Well, sir. General Hammond procured that permission again for you," Sam smiled at the wide grin that news painted on Jack's face. "Only I don't understand the meaning of the condition?"

"Condition?" I echoed.

"Barbless, isn't it?" Jack asked.

"Yes, that's the term. What does it mean?" Sam asked way too innocently.

I leaned back and listened as Jack launched into fishing jargon, more animated and happy than I'd seen him since before Eric had left for PBX 123. And Sam was the same. Teal'c flashed me that look that said he too approved of what was happening. SG-1 was on its way to being whole again.

It was a pleasant interlude in the busy and often distasteful happenings at the SGC. Little things like this between people who depended on each other to survive made all the horror and pain worth it.

Right now the future would wait an hour or so. I knew that this whole thing wasn't resolved, may never be resolved. But there were some difficult decisions that needed to be made before the week was out. That get-together would was much more than that, it was a test of many decisions, only some of them Jack's.

It was going to be a very long week.

***

That one week had been one of the longest I could remember, but we where here now.

The setting was beautiful, just the kind of beauty that Jack loved. With all those complaints about trees on every world that harbored them, one would think he disliked them. On the contrary, he loved them. He especially loved them if they harbored water teeming with fish.

This place, where the dirt road ran over a huge corrugated metal culvert had been listed as off-limits years ago according to Jack. It had been over-used, the trees endangered, the creek full of trash and the fish gone. He had never given any inkling to any of us that he had actively volunteered to help restore the area, spending time hand-pulling noxious weeds, felling trees to create pools to harbor the fish he so loved. He even made sure that someday it would be available to families to enjoy on a limited basis. This would be the first time anyone had been allowed to picnic here since it had been placed off-limits.

Sgt Siler it seemed had been in cahoots with him on part of this project. He and Jack had crafted the environmentally friendly fire pits and picnic tables. Porta Potties had been brought in for the occasion. Never again would a forest toilet reside along this waterway. Only truck-out sanitation facilities would be allowed here as long as anyone at Cheyenne Mountain had a say in it.

The facilities would be modeled after those found inside the caldera at Crater Lake National Park, out at the western edge of the nation, in Oregon. Contamination there was something that could not happen as anything spilled inside those rock ramparts stayed there. So special toilets had been designed for the thousands of visitors a day that walked down the 3.1 mile steep zigzag of a trail to the edge of the bluest lake on the planet, if it was good enough to protect one of our planets greatest natural wonders, it was good enough for this one, according to Siler. He even showed me the blueprints for it. Now I knew just where Jack went for a week out of every year. I wondered why I never noticed that Siler had been gone at the same time.

I knew that those two could be as thick as thieves, but this was beyond even my imaginings; as was this beautiful place that Jack and he had worked to restore and protect.

The trees, some still showing the scars they received at the hands of inconsiderate humans, stood proudly in ranks along the swift cold stream. Low lying native shrubs and plants, some a riot of color, carpeted the partially open area that had been so compacted that nothing had grown there for many years. Carefully planned narrow paths of native stone provided access to the water and each tiny island of packed earth that remained around each picnic table. Very different from the pictures that Siler had had along with those blueprints.

Siler was so proud of the difference; I knew Jack must have been too. But all of this helped to explain why the whole gathering was limited to around thirty individuals and no private vehicles at all. A shuttle van ferried back and forth from the base to here on a regular schedule for this event.

Sam found the shuttle very interesting, it was one of the very few electric vehicles on base; she and Siler spent a lot of time checking it out when it wasn't actually moving.

Jack and Teal'c had been the first arrivals. Teal'c had carefully set up a padded chair for Jack next to the table closest to the water. Food and drink close at hand, and extra clothing. I knew that Jack had been admonished to rest, no long periods of standing, and no walking off the paths. And Janet had added forget the water unless Teal'c was there. Sounded to me like the instructions to an eight year old. But Jack had solemnly nodded his agreement. I think he really, really wanted to get out of the Mountain.

It was late spring and here under the trees it could be quite chilly. Everyone and everything revolved around his position, but apart from him. Jack looked relaxed, even though I knew he couldn't possibly be so. He hated the attention and especially like this.

Each member of Eric's team had been presented to Jack as if he were the local king, though I could see that many of them seemed to understand his discomfort and went out of their way to act as if this were just a family get-together. People who knew of each other, but had never met face-to-face. It was going well.

Not everyone had made it yet, and that was probably why Teal'c had left after getting Jack settled. Eric had yet to make his appearance.

Jack chatted with a steady stream of arrivals. Two of the fire pits had lazy curls of smoke rising from them. Janet, who had arrived on the last shuttle run, was fussing with the food, helped by Siler. Looked like hot dogs and burgers from here. A toot from the road announced the return of the van.

Somehow Jack knew who had arrived, he met Eric at the very edge of the parking area. Neither was ashamed enough to prevent the bear hugs they exchanged, then a few words and smiles before Jack sent him off to greet his team, they had all day to catch up, even if they had spent a good chunk of last evening deep in easy conversation. Teal'c and Sam were right there to fill the gap left as Jack watched the greetings being exchanged at the first fire pit, unofficial PBX 123 territory.

Sam hugged Jack, rubbing his back in welcome. He had a loose grip on her waist. Two people who worked together closely, nothing overt at all, it was rather sad. They so deserved each other. As Sam finally sped off to join Janet to help with the food, the expression on Jack's face told me there was hope for them, which made me smile.

Teal'c wasn't alone, two men and two women stood behind him. The sight of them killed Jack's mood like fire retardant dropped from an air tanker onto a forest fire. One of the men pushed forward, allowing Teal'c to beat a hasty retreat.

"Jack."

"Isiah... MacKenzie," the last name was said with no small amount of contempt, but both men were smart enough to ignore the tone. Behind them, the two very pretty women chatting non-stop, entirely missing the exchange.

Jack gave Captain Isiah Cochran a death glare of epic proportions, and then jerked his head to follow him. He in turn bowed the ladies ahead of him to closely follow Jack's slow progress back to his padded chair; Cochran pulled a reluctant MacKenzie along. The man couldn't look me in the eye, not that I wanted him to, even if he had saved my life. There are some things I found difficult to forgive.

Their arrival had me very curious and I wasn't about to leave until I found out what was going on and who invited this group, they weren't on any guest list I'd seen.

Colonel Jack O'Neill

This had been such a good day, embarrassing, but good. I should have known better.

I had hoped Isiah couldn't make it, and then I would have only had to cope with MacKenzie. But no, I get both of them - and - their dates. Scuttlebutt will have the ladies as the second couple of a double date. Oy.

The ladies were rather friendly, so much so that Janet and Sam flew in and chatted them out of my hair just in time for Cochran to arrive. MacKenzie pretty much hid behind him.

"Jack; got your eleventh hour invite. Hope you don't mind us bringing the girls?" Isiah had the gall to smirk.

"Did you forget about clearances?" I hazarded, he never forgot things like that, but this could be a first, but I doubted it.

"Cheyenne Mountain isn't the center of the universe Jack. Who do you think files all those precisely worded reports you write?"

Had to admit, he had me there. I wrote them, Hammond read them and I knew that the Joint Chiefs and the President read them. So there had to be others, it only stood to reason. However, these were, well, just a couple of girls. From the expression on Isiah's face, he had a card up his sleeve.

"Them?"

Cochran smirked even more; I found it irritating. He looked at the gaggle of women roasting hot dogs and pointed a finger in their direction.

"See, that's Susan in the red jacket. Sam knows her from one of the technology research groups the Joint Chiefs put together as an offset to Area 51. Her expertise is advanced theoretical electronics. She's really hot about getting rid of power lines. The one in the brown sweater is Ruby, she's specializes in metallurgy. She figures that alloying naquadah the right way will produce super strong, lighter metals to produce armor for in-the-field guys like you. Plenty of clearance there."

Grudgingly I nodded in agreement.

"Besides, I think Ruby there is sweet on Mac," Cochran nudged the psychiatrist in the ribs causing him to cringe and flush floridly. That lightened my mood just a wee bit.

"So, why are we here Jack, and could you make it short and sweet. I don't want to leave the ladies without escorts too long," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Same ol' Isiah, always enamored of the ladies. It never mattered what the age, he just loves females, from infants to 100 plus in age; and ever the gentleman.

"Let me put it this way, I mulled over our conversation," I pulled an envelope from inside my light jacket and handed it to him, "The solution to the problem."

"Jack. Thanks. You won't regret this," he smiled broadly and pulled MacKenzie in for a one-armed hug.

Hmmm, maybe this is better. I certainly hadn't thought of anything half as bad as having Isiah as a friend, he could be very meddlesome. The idea appealed to me, I hoped he considered MacKenzie a very close friend. I downright grinned at the idea. Things were starting to look up.

Isaiah gave me a strange look.

"Hey, kid. Thanks for the help," and I held out my hand. We shook.

"I'm here for ya Jack, just holler. And... thanks," he waved the envelope as he turned and led MacKenzie to the ladies.

Daniel was standing there with a shell-shocked look on his face.

"You know each other."

"Yepper, Danny-boy, since he was twelve I believe," Daniel did a double take.

"And the envelope?"

"MacKenzie's absolution."

"I don't understand." Poor Daniel, he hasn't been paying much attention, but then I'd had him distracted for a couple of weeks now. Glad that's over.

"Let's just say MacKenzie has his orders and clean-up after this little party is assured."

Daniel's not slow, the light of understanding burned in his face almost immediately, the smile was worth that concession of clearing the little weasel's record. I smiled too.

"Daniel, I'm glad you're here. You can help me celebrate. Four more weeks and I'll be back on the roster."

"Jaaack! Janet said four weeks after the end of the month. There's two weeks left until then. I know for a fact that you can count."

Daniel perched on the seat of the picnic table next to me; I whacked him on the shoulder.

"You wanna bet?"

"Not on your life. The way Teal'c is pushing you through physio, it is a distinct possibility," Daniel laughed.

We shared a moment as laughter echoed down from where the ladies were being entertained by MacKenzie of all people. I'd have expected Isiah to be the life of the party. Maybe MacKenzie has changed. Naw, that's just too scary to contemplate. And as quickly as that my thoughts and eyes drifted to the tight knot around Eric.

Warmth I'd not felt for a long time filled my chest and lightened my heart.

"Jack..."

Daniel's hesitant voice drew me from pleasant thoughts; he just couldn't help himself sometimes. He could kill a mood faster than anyone I know, except me.

"What, Danny?"

"Is it over?"

I knew what he was asking, am I safe, is Eric safe, and at the same time was he safe.

"No, it isn't. And is. Both at the same time. Like with the Goa'uld. We survived to fight another day, and so did they. Stalemate."

"That sounds, well... defeatist."

"Sounds like, but isn't," I flipped the object that Eric had given me the night before into the air between us, if flashed in the warm sunlight. It reminded me of hope. "As long as any of us draws breath we are undefeated. Just call it a realistic outlook."

Daniel's eyes followed the object, on the next catch I flipped it to him and he neatly caught it. His eyes widened after only a cursory examination of it, just like I knew they would.

"Jack! Where did you get this?"

"PBX 123. Eric brought it back."

"It's in Ancient!"

"Yep, that's what I thought. Kinda puts all of this in prospective doesn't it, there's never a tidy solution when it comes to real life. But there is always a new mystery waiting in the wings."

The End [sorta]

Additonal Author's Notes: This has been a journey of discovery spanning three years. My ability and style of writing has changed over that time and it is evident within this story. It had been intended as a short sequel to my very first fic, but somehow it got out of hand and took on a life of its own; and from the ending, it has not quite ended, despite my best efforts. Perhaps there will be a sequel to the sequel. LOL I do hope you will please excuse the differences from beginning to end. I do intend to do a rewrite, but that will probably wait about a year.