The Matchmaker by Cjay

Chapter Three: Unleashing the Muse

Teal'c looked around the spacious room and felt a surge of satisfaction. Many recent changes had enriched his existence here amongst the Tau'ri. O'Neill was safe -- having been rescued by himself and the Asgard, Thor, from his self-imposed imprisonment in the stasis chamber of the Ancients. The SGC was once again functioning, as it should, with a newly promoted General Jack O'Neill as its much admired and respected leader.

One of O'Neill's first acts as commander had been to promote Samantha Carter from Major to Lieutenant Colonel, thereby giving her full leadership of SG-1. His next act had been to authorize Teal'c's ability to find living quarters away from the base.

Teal'c had long wished for a private residence, but had never given voice to his desire. Yet, O'Neill had known this secret of his heart. Proving once again that he was indeed the brother of his soul.

Beverly, his now constant companion, had relished their little jaunts about the Colorado Springs area looking for the perfect place for Teal'c to settle. They'd spent many a fruitless off duty hour searching, but nothing had suited him. He wanted something less crowded: a compromise between attempting to assimilate into society and his innate need for privacy. That is until O'Neill had quietly taped a clipping from the local paper on his locker.

The listing described a large two-bedroom top floor unit, not far from O'Neill's own home. An older couple lived in the first floor apartment of the two-flat. They were currently looking for a "mature and responsible party to take up residence in the upstairs suite, above their humble home." The price was well within his means and Teal'c had gone over, alone at first, to meet the elderly landlords.

Adam and Dottie Walters had lost both their sons in Viet Nam. Now well past retirement age, they were looking for more than just a tenant. They were looking for someone to love. Just a bit. The dignified Teal'c had filled the bill. Dottie had sized the big Jaffa up quickly. Her Adam had been in the Air Force for over twenty years and she could spot a military-man a mile off. So, when Mr. Murray had presented himself that sunny afternoon, clipping in hand, she'd known she found a kindred spirit.

There was something so still and lonely in the way Mr. Teal'c Murray had requested the privilege of viewing their upstairs suite; something that told her he needed a place to call home. This man had seen sorrow. Both she and Adam had known their own share of sorrows; Dottie's heart went out to him.

Adam had been a bit more cautious. The muscle-bound fellow was enormous! He looked quite capable of breaking a man in half! And, just what had possessed him to get a tattoo on his forehead? A golden-seal of some kind, no less?

Concerned, Adam requested references.

Inclining his head in an almost regal gesture of respect, Mr. Murray had given the couple the name and number of a Brigadier General O'Neill. A bit stunned, Adam had nevertheless phoned the General and been even more amazed when the man himself had gotten on the line and personally vouched for "Teal'c."

Amused and impressed by the elder man's caution, Teal'c had explained his simple needs and the fact that he'd often be away for days at a time on business.

Adam, a savvy ex-major who'd been in the service of his country through several wars, zeroed in on the subtle emphasis Teal'c had placed on the word 'business.' Adam took a few minutes to study this enigma from every angle. It was quite clear that this man was involved in something very high clearance: his current address (the military installation at Cheyenne Mountain), his mannerisms and his close association with the General, confirmed that assumption. Add in the cat-like body language and this man screamed stealth!

Still, Mr. Murray was extremely polite and his manners, as Dottie served tea, were impeccable. Lord knew the other applicants who'd come bye were shabby in comparison to this oddly refined fellow. Adam thought that perhaps they ought to give it a go. And so, he'd handed over the keys and his private phone number to their new upstairs tenant, and Dottie hoped, a new friend.

Teal'c walked thoughtfully from room to room. The barren apartment or suite as Dottie insisted on calling it, would need to be furnished. Dottie had met him in the hall as he'd entered the building. Smiling a welcome, the "older" woman called him young man bringing an ironic smile to his lips. She had insisted that once Teal'c had finished organizing the few possessions he'd brought with him he join her for tea. If she only knew: Teal'c had outlived her by many years already, despite his youthful appearance.

Setting down his duffle bag and box of possessions in the larger of the two bedrooms, Teal'c made his way downstairs to the Walters' apartment. The door stood ajar allowing the delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies to waft through the outer hall. Tapping lightly on the doorframe, Teal'c inhaled deeply eyes closed in sensual delight. He'd never really found sweets to his liking, preferring fresh fruits to refined sugar, but he did have a weakness for chocolate chip cookies.

Dottie heard the faint knock on her open portal and hurried into the front parlor, catching sight of Teal'c's enthralled expression. "Ah ha! I knew it. Just like my boys. I told Adam you'd be a cookie monster."

Delighted that his undisguised yearning for the confection had brought her pleasure, Teal'c smiled wryly. "I am most anxious to sample one of your cookies, Dottie. However, I assure you, I am not a monster."

Hearing the underlying apprehension in his tone, Dottie wondered what kind of inequities this man had suffered in his life. Had he been forced to undertake what her Adam confided were distasteful tasks in order to serve his country? Well, no matter, she would soothe him with tea and sweets. "Of course you aren't dear. That's just a silly reference to that puppet who is always so greedy for cookies."

Arching a brow, Teal'c realized his error. "Of course."

Threading one arm through his, Dottie pulled him along to the kitchen. "Now sit yourself down and tell me about your plans to decorate the upstairs suite. What sort of décor do you fancy?"

Noting his blank expression, she continued, "Oh my, don't tell me, you haven't a clue? Maybe that lovely young woman you keep company with has a few ideas?"

Actually, Beverly had insisted that Teal'c undertake this project entirely without her input. According to her, T' needed to find his own muse. He needed to think outside the box and let his artistic side run rampant. Teal'c was a bit unsure just how to go about allowing his 'inner artist to shine.'

Dottie was startled to see that the handsome younger man's countenance remained blank. "You do have some ideas? I mean to say, what do you like? Do you favor lots of vibrant color, or more subdued tones?" Patting his arm, she realized that she'd been pushing and sat back silently to allow him to think.

Teal'c considered the matter, munching on one of Dottie's cookies. He was still exploring his freedom to experience all that this world had to offer. Perhaps Anton Roget might have an idea or two?

The little man had become a friend. Not long ago, Teal'c had made his first of many visits to Anton's Flower and Garden Center and the two had hit it off. Since then, Teal'c had spent many a pleasant hour wandering the fecund gardens and greenhouses. Usually these visits had taken place when Teal'c was off duty and Beverly was still otherwise engaged in her duties at the base, much to Anton's delight.

Yes, this was a good idea. He'd visit Anton and ask for his expert advice on the matter. "I do have a friend who is very creative. I shall call upon him and enlist his aid."

Smiling with satisfaction, Dottie refilled Teal'c's cup with fragrant tea. "Wonderful! If I can help, don't hesitate to ask. Just don't tell Adam I've been meddling. Sometimes he can be such an old poop!"

Unsure as to just what an 'old poop' would be, Teal'c inclined his head in agreement. He would ask Daniel Jackson or O'Neill to explain the term. "I shall not. I would be most grateful for your assistance, Dottie."

Dottie was thrilled that he was allowing her this overture of friendship; she sensed that Teal'c was a very private man. "Thank you, my boy. It has been too long since I had a young man around to mother. I hope you will forgive my meddling and promise to correct me if I'm too nosey?"

Hoping he had not erred, Teal'c inclined his head. "Indeed I shall."

***

Anton Roget looked forward to those moments in his day when he could quietly drink in the beauty of his flowers without the distraction of customers and their incessant questions. The truth was Anton wished he were wealthy enough to close his shop to the public and just garden for the rest of his days.

He was about to close for the evening when his new friend and secret crush, strolled in. "Oh, hello there, Mr. Teal'c. Why so glum?" Anton had a unique ability to sense the big man's moods, even though his expressions were generally placid.

Cocking an expressive eyebrow, Teal'c wondered yet again how it was that the little fellow could read him so well. "Master Roget, I find that I have a dilemma. One requiring your rare expertise."

Pleased that this self-sufficient mountain of a man might have a need for his advice and assistance, Anton preened a bit. "What sort of dilemma my friend? You know you have only to ask and, voilà... Anton will of course lend a helping hand if at all possible."

Teal'c inclined his head majestically. "Of that I am aware, my friend. As you know, I am in the process of moving into a new dwelling and I find that I am uncertain as to just how to furnish it properly."

Confused, Anton tilted his head to one side, his hand resting thoughtfully beneath his chin. "What of Miss Beverly?"

Placing his hands behind him in his customary relaxed at stance, Teal'c elaborated, his voice betraying his bewilderment. "She insists that I exercise my own muse. And as she puts it, indulge my own whimsy."

Delighted with this turn of events, Anton clasped his hands together. "Ah! The lady has a point! It is after all your new home, is it not?"

Anton's thoughts quickly ran through his eclectic group of associates. Introduction to his inner circle would, no doubt, be an influential and enlightening adventure for this beguiling and vaguely primitive Nubian.

Despite his outwardly serene expression, Teal'c was feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I fear I have no reference point from which to begin an undertaking of this magnitude."

Fairly swooning with the probability of spending time in the shops with this trophy of manhood, Anton gushed. "My dear Mr. Teal'c, don't you fret. I know just where we need to go to stimulate that impressively ingenious brain of yours. Trust in Anton. By this time tomorrow your muse will be inspired to brilliance!"

Brightening a bit, yet still unsure, Teal'c responded simply. "Indeed."

***

Looking over his mound of paperwork, O'Neill had to laugh at his own naiveté. Jack O'Neill the reluctant General. 'Ah, Jack, if only you'd listened to your cynical side!' When this promotion, this new position, had been offered to him, Jack had quailed at first. He'd spent his entire career 'sticking it to the man,' a product of the turbulent culture of the sixties. His thirst for doing things his way and his need to protect his team... to protect the entirety of the base personnel of the SGC had swayed him. He'd accepted the promotion, the paycheck, the parking spot- and all the headaches that went with them. Crap!

Things had moved along swiftly after he'd accepted the title of Brigadier General. Suddenly, it was Jack alone who was forced to speak directly to the President and the Joint Chiefs without his usual buffer, General Hammond, to soften his approach. It had matured him in ways he'd never envisioned. And in a relatively short time, too. Still, underneath the 'man in control' façade, he was still the same Jack O'Neill, cynic, joker and infinite well of compassion.

A great many of his decisions gave him satisfaction. For example: promoting Carter, granting Teal'c permission to get a life and ordering the kitchen staff to make French fries instead of mashed potatoes. Conversely, a great many more that annoyed and on occasion, stumped him as well, leaving him in the state in which he found himself in now, hoping for a distraction.

Teal'c's apartment warming party was this weekend. It had been postponed due to the irritating and unexpected resurrection of that slimy pseudo-snakehead, Anubis. Consequently, Jack had not as yet purchased a gift. Checking his calendar (oh yes, he now had a very tight schedule), Jack confirmed that he could leave a bit early today and stop off to pick up something appropriate.

First, he supposed he should make some effort to tidy up his desk or his aide, Captain Karen Black (a rather bold baggage), would give him one of her long suffering looks. She was quite adept at making him feel like an errant schoolboy with just one look. It was amazing really, but he found himself making small efforts to please her.

She reminded him of his dear friend and surrogate mother, Sassy O'Connor. He and Daniel both kept in touch with the Pink Lady who'd, not too long ago, saved their lives and she often checked in with them. In fact, they were past due for a call. Thoughts of that gutsy lady made him smile. If Sassy caught wind of him 'tidying up', she'd give him one of her all too knowing smiles and no doubt bake him some of her famous double fudge brownies as a reward. Feeling nostalgic, Jack jotted a note on his calendar to give Sassy a call come Monday.

***

Daniel Jackson meandered up the stairs en route to Jack's office. It was still a bit weird to think of Jack as the Base Commander. Jack, the man who professed to hate being in charge of anything, was nevertheless, in perfect command of virtually every situation in which he found himself anyway.

When it came right down to it, Jack was the kind of natural born leader Daniel would like to see more of; a bit stubborn if pushed, yet, fair and just to a fault. In addition, Daniel knew of very few men, or woman, in authority who could empathize and motivate others the way Jack did. All in all, Jack was the best man for the job. Despite that fact, Daniel still missed General Hammond and he was fully aware that Jack did too; well, maybe Jack more than anyone else.

George and Jack had always shared a strange and unique sort of father/son type friendship, one that was rare, especially in the military. And, made him wonder how well Jack was fairing with all his new responsibilities without the General to bounce things off. Jack could be annoyingly taciturn and evasive at times. It was like pulling teeth to get him to open up under normal circumstances, but recently he'd become even more remote.

After the essence of Anubis had terrorized the base this past week and infested one after the other of the personnel, Jack seemed to close up and withdraw even more. Both Sam and Daniel worried over that fact. Sam postulated that perhaps the infestation, brief as it was, had brought back all Jack's memories of his imprisonment by Ba'al and the torture he'd endured. It was a theory over which Daniel had increasingly agonized. Jack had never, not even once, discussed his captivity, nor any of the cruelties he'd endured at the hands of Ba'al; and Daniel had never felt completely at ease discussing what little he remembered either.

Even more puzzling was the fact that Jack had as yet made no mention of the little prank he'd played just before they'd gone to P3X-429. He'd uttered not one peep about the singles column or the web posting, which Jack had placed. The advert was designed to tease and torment the person whom Jack had supposed had sent along a taunting e-mailing regarding Jack's efforts at matchmaking. However, the whole 'evil Anubis affair' had prevented the culmination of that little caper. And as yet, Jack had no idea that it had been Sam and not Daniel, who had initiated that escapade. A bit of caprice, for which she had as yet to fully explain to either Daniel or Teal'c.

Oddly, Jack had failed to make any reference at all to any of those events, which had immediately preceded the whole Lost City adventure, a fact that weighed heavily on Daniel's mind.

He remembered Jack's first words after he'd been unfrozen by Thor. Daniel had asked what Jack remembered and Jack's response had been a bit vague: alluding to having his head sucked by the device of the Ancients and something about twins. The latter remark, Daniel had supposed, being Jack's inane humor rising to the fore.

Daniel wondered if Jack's memory remained impaired. Was Jack O'Neill, master of deception and stealth, hiding the fact that his memory was as holey as Swiss cheese? Daniel was making it his mission to find out.

Ham sandwich in hand, Daniel knocked on General O'Neill's outer door. Hearing the muffled "come," he ventured within. "Hey, Jack, whatcha doing?"

Sparing Daniel a brief arched look, Jack continued to shove folders into his desk drawers. "You're the intrepid archeologist with the high IQ, Daniel. What does it look like?"

Daniel took a huge bite of the sandwich, chewing and speaking at once. "Well, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were tidying up your desk. BUT, since you never really used your desk in the past, and in point of fact denied knowledge of ever having one, I'm not entirely sure."

Evasive as ever, Jack chose to ignore Daniel's less than subtle jibe regarding his faulty memory. "Something I can do for you, Danny?"

Uh, oh. Danny? Bingo! Jack was hiding something. The question was, what exactly? "I thought you might be hungry. I didn't see you at lunch. Wanna share my Ham sandwich?"

Jack froze. Scrunching up the left side of his face, he gave Daniel one of his patented 'are you demented, or what' looks. Nodding toward Daniel's left arm, still in its sling, post gunshot wound, he responded flatly. "Dr. Jackson, are you sure you are feeling all right? Perhaps you need a bit more time in the infirmary?"

Drat! No recognition! Ham didn't ring any bells with Jack. Gad! He doesn't remember. This is not good. Whatever else one could say about Jack O'Neill, prior to the Lost City mission, his memory had rarely been faulty. Unless this was one of his deliberate acts designed to maintain the upper hand and spring some joke on an unsuspecting Daniel later? When it came to jocularity Jack was the master. Feigning innocence, Daniel denied the need for further medical treatment. "No, no. Feeling fine... really. Just thought you might be hungry."

Tossing the remainder of the sandwich into the wastebasket beside Jack's desk, Daniel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large banana, a not too subtle allusion to a certain space monkey.

Jack's empty expression denied any awareness. "Ah! You needn't have worried Danny boy. Captain Black brought me a tray. I ate right here in the office; paperwork, you know." Jack uttered this explanation benignly enough, but there was an underlying irritation in his tone.

"How's that working out for you?" Daniel asked with his usual aplomb. He suspected that the pretty Captain had a crush on the dashing O'Neill (formerly known around the base as the Hard Candy Colonel) and was smothering him with good intention.

"Fine." Jack snapped.

"Sure?" Daniel volleyed.

"Yep." Jack returned.

"I mean... really, Jack... how are things...? Daniel's voice was awash with concern.

Exasperated, Jack refused to talk. "Daniel, I was just about to leave for the day... so if there is nothing else?"

For the first time, Daniel could hear the weariness in Jack's voice and noticed the deepening crease between his brows -- a sure indication that Jack was stressed. "Oh, ah, no. Any big plans?" He hoped Jack had something relaxing planned.

Jack pushed his chair beneath his desk and picked up his briefcase. Ah, yes. Jack now carried a briefcase. Narrowing his eyes, daring Daniel to make some smart remark about said briefcase, he left his office. "Nope. Gonna pick up a house warming gift for T'. Any suggestions?"

Bemused, Daniel fell into step beside Jack and shook his head. "None. Teal'c has been very closed-mouthed on the subject of décor. According to Beverly, the big guy is decorating it himself."

Reaching the elevator, Jack slid his security card through the slot. "So...candles might be a nice idea then...lots of big honking candles."

Snorting, Daniel had to agree. "Guess you can't go wrong with candles, Jack! Teal'c does love those beeswax pillars doesn't he?"

As the elevator doors closed him inside, Jack affected a reasonable facsimile of the big Jaffa's dignified eyebrow raise and head tilt. "Indeed."

Still laughing, Daniel was halfway back to his lab before, he came to the realization that he'd gotten nowhere in his quest to discover anything about Jack's memory, or lack there of. 'Oh, for crying out loud! Jack, why won't you let anyone in?'

***

Jack saluted the SF and signed out of the base with an affable smile, then made his way to the parking lot.

Rory Main sapped a smart salute and a grin in return. The whole base had been dreading the news that a new commander was taking over, especially after the Dr. Weir debacle. That is, until they'd gotten wind of just who that new commander was. Rory for one was thrilled that the Colonel had accepted the posting. The man deserved his promotion to Brigadier General. His recent handling of the whole lockdown situation had reinforced the unshakable conviction of all base personnel that O'Neill was the right man for the job. Still, Rory and the others felt concerned.

Over the past few months, O'Neill had become more and more withdrawn. And now that he was the man, so to speak, he rarely seemed to leave the confines of the SGC. The General had no life!

Jack detected the concern behind Main's grin and small talk. He was not unaware of the scuttlebutt regarding his less than forthcoming interactions of late, the new Chief Medical Officer saw to that. Dr. Brightman was not Janet, but she was just as fearless when it came to meddling in his life. He wasn't sure just how to deal with the good doctor as yet. Adjusting to being the man in charge was taking its toll on his joviality.

Choosing to shelve the matter for now, Jack thought back on the interaction he'd just had with Daniel, something was up there. Daniel was fishing, but for the life of him, Jack was unsure just what he was fishing for.

Ever since he'd experienced the big freeze his memory had been just a tad cloudy. Yes, Jack O'Neill, self-appointed protector of humanity, had once again chosen the safety of Earth over that of his own person.

Despite the joyful memory of the first time he'd accidentally been downloaded like an outdated computer (losing all control, slowly becoming incapable of communication, effectively isolated and awaiting a solitary death), he'd deliberately stuck his, arguably rational, head into another device of the Ancients, filling his mind with a myriad of wisdom. Thus, risking his life and sanity yet again. Luckily, the Asgard had eventually vacuumed said brilliance back up once more (albeit, not fast enough for his liking). Unfortunately for old Jack O'Neill the whole 'eraser bit' had been less than perfect; little fragments of information seemed to float into his consciousness when Jack least expected them to.

So he now had to filter and examine facts a bit differently. For one, he needed to make sure any recollection, which might pop into his thoughts, was consistent with the memories of a mere human. And, it had required his entire and considerable acting prowess to convince first, his team and then, a multitude of medical professionals that he was one hundred percent and fit for duty.

Luckily, as the days passed, bits and pieces of his life just prior to that adventure had begun to fall into place. For example, he now clearly remembered that crossword puzzle, which he'd never quite finished, and the wager he'd had on it with Carter. A wager she had yet to demand he make good on.

He supposed that given all that had transpired since then she'd decided to drop the matter. A bet was a bet, and he planned to make good on it. Twenty bucks certainly wouldn't break him. After all, he had intended to lose it to her anyway. A mere twenty bucks was a cheap price to pay if it meant he'd get to toy with the brilliant Carter every now and then.

The memory of her reading some of his goofy answers to the crossword puzzle questions suddenly popped into his mind. She'd looked so cute and nonplussed, her chagrin reminding him of their lost camaraderie and the closeness they'd once shared. Since she'd begun to see that nosy flatfoot, nothing had been quite the same and probably never would again.

Climbing into his big truck, Jack fastened the seat belt. He'd just inserted the key into the ignition when his cell phone rang. "O'Neill."

"Uncle Jack? It's me, Cassie." He'd sounded so serious and official, that she giggled. "I'm sitting on your front doorstep. I can't find the spare key."

Cassie Fraiser, Janet's adopted child and Jack's own surrogate daughter, had been away for the past several months attending her first year of college.

"I moved it honey, it's back in the old hiding place." Slipping the phone's headset on, Jack pulled out of the parking lot. "Not that I'm not thrilled you are here for a visit, but why aren't you at school?"

"Duh! Uncle Jack, what is going on with you lately? Don't you ever check your e-mails? I sent you a message yesterday." Her voice telegraphed her concern. Was Uncle Jack slipping or what? "I finished my last class a day early. I'm on break. You said I should come and stay with you as soon as I could get away, remember?"

The whole lockdown scenario had thrown Jack off more than a little. He hadn't been home in over a week. Straightening things out at the base had been his only priority. Hence, he'd neglected his private correspondence. "Sorry, honey, you know the drill...been a bit busy lately."

Relieved, Cassie had no real idea what his new role as General entailed. She assumed he had been off world and gotten his days a bit mixed up, it had happened before. "No sweat. When will you be home?"

"I'm on my way, kiddo." This could be a good thing, Cassie could help him pick something out for the T' man. "What's say we go out for dinner? Feel like a pizza? Then there is the little matter of our ongoing battle of wits and a friendly wager. Seems someone challenged me to a chess match. And I believe a boxed set of the Simpson's on DVD is the pending prize?"

Hearing her chortle, he continued, "First, I need your help with a little errand, O.K.?"

"Oh, so you got that e-mail at least!" Cassie had finally located the house key. Gee, Uncle Jack hadn't hidden it there since she was thirteen and he'd still called her squirt. "Found the key. I'll grab a quick shower and be ready to go ASAP. Bye."

Hearing the phone click, Jack smiled. Cassie hadn't changed; she was still as exuberant as ever. It would be great having the kid around for a few days. Jack missed her far more than he'd ever let on. Besides, he needed the diversion. Hitting the speed dial, he phoned the base.

***

Placing a new file on the General's amazingly uncluttered desk, Captain Karen Black was just leaving for the day. "General O'Neill's office, Captain Black speaking."

"Captain? O'Neill. If memory serves, I have only the one meeting with Dr. Brightman in the morning, correct?"

Perusing his Friday appointments, the Captain noted that he was indeed correct. "Yes, Sir." What was this all about?

'Sweet!' Jack was well aware that no team was off world at the moment. SG-11 had just returned this afternoon and, barring a disaster, his calendar was otherwise unencumbered. He'd arranged it that way as originally he'd hoped to make informal inspections around the base and catch up with a few of the personnel along the way, but time with Cassie was precious.

"Cancel it, and reschedule for Tuesday. I'm taking a long weekend. Notify, the new head of security, Major Kearney, that he has command until 0800 Monday."

O.K., this was out of character. Granted, Karen was still getting to know the complex Brigadier, but since he'd taken over the command the General had taken very little personal time. He deserved a little downtime, especially as things had been hectic lately. "Understood, General. Have a good weekend, Sir."

***

Cassie was beating the pants off of her "Uncle" Jack tonight. His whole game was... well let's just say, she hadn't annihilated him this badly since she was... come to think of it she never had. He was too adept when it came to strategy to lose a simple game of chess, despite that whole dense old soldier act of his. She suspected he was either letting her win or that he had something on his mind. Either way, she would soon be the owner of a brand new DVD boxed set! Sweet!

While winning was always very cool, the way he had been staring at her queen for the past several minutes was not! "Earth to Jack O'Neill, come in, O'Neill."

Startled from his reverie, Jack looked up blankly at first, and then smiled wryly. "O'Neill to earth. What?"

Cassie giggled; she loved it when he pulled that old Abbott and Costello routine! "What is on second, who's on first?" Sobering, she gave him a searching look. "Seriously, what is up with you, Uncle Jack? You were a million miles away just now?"

It was true, he had been. Cassie had just announced another checkmate and suddenly his brain had been flooded with a memory, the memory of a practical joke still waiting for him to collect on the punch line.

Returning Cassie's intent stare, Jack gave her one of his patented, 'you're just going to have to wait for it' smiles. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you, kiddo...top secret stuff."

"Oh, for crying out loud! Knock it off will ya?" Cassie wasn't sure if he was serious or not. It really didn't matter. This was her time and, she was sure as shooting not allowing him to think of anything else, except the two of them having fun together.

She'd wasted too many hours not spending time with her mother, Janet; hours she regretted. That was so not going to happen with her surrogate father. Attempting to imitate his command voice, Cassie ordered him, "Listen up O'Neill! You are off duty and this is my time, so pay attention!"

Jack had watched the silent play of emotions on her face; he understood all too well just what she was feeling.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" Snapping a smart salute, he took her hand in his. "That's enough chess for tonight; you are breaking the bank, kid. How about a nice big bowl of ice cream and a corny movie?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask! Guess what I brought with me?" Cassie laughed joyfully, throwing her arms around him.

Hugging her tightly for a moment, Jack reached up and gave her a noogie. "Nooo, don't tell me. X-men 2..." Groaning with mock agony, he added, "another chapter in the misadventures of that pesky hairball, the Wolverine? Gag!"

Cassie's eyes rounded for a second. How did he know? He would never tell her just how he did it, but he always guessed just which DVD she'd secreted in her backpack. "Guess you might say I'm a sucker for any one named Jack...man! Jeez! How do you do that, anyway? Either you're clairvoyant or you're a leprechaun."

Chuckling over that particular mental image, Jack put on the Irish and pulled her along to the kitchen for that ice cream. "Tricks of me trade, me darlin', tricks of me trade."

***

Beverly snuggled deeper into the warm place left by Teal'c's body, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets. Hmmm...the sheets were whisper soft, making her feel shamelessly decadent. T' was turning into a real connoisseur of the sensual; maybe he always had been.

Not only were the tangerine colored sheets smooth as a baby's bottom, the entire décor he'd selected was tasteful and innovative. Each creative touch designed to bathe the soul in sensation.

Beverly giggled. She wondered just how General O'Neill and the rest of SG-1 would react when they finally received the grand tour tomorrow at the party. Would their reaction rival hers? Unraveling the mysteries of Teal'c was far more phenomenal than she would have ever envisioned.

Beverly's Renaissance man returned quietly from his predawn sojourn to the kitchen. Carrying a tray of strawberries and ice tea, he climbed back into the queen-sized bed, careful not to spill the tray's contents. Setting his burden on the bedside table, Teal'c drew the captor of his heart into an embrace. Nestling his face into the delicate curve of her throat, he sighed contentedly.

Beverly ran a caressing palm over Teal'c's newly hirsute pate, enjoying the softness of each strand of newly grown hair. In her mind's eye, she could still see his expression when he'd returned at last from his rescue mission to free Colonel O'Neill from eternal stasis. Eyebrow arched in an amusement, he'd told her of O'Neill's first reactions to the new growth upon awakening from his long sleep.

According to T's revelation, O'Neill had been transfixed by the absence of the 'T-man's shiny bald greatness,' informing him after a brief interval of introspection and conferencing with Daniel that, his head now resembled a newly grown Chia Pet. It was no surprise to her that upon moving into his new office, a Chia Pet resembling one of the three stooges had suddenly made an appearance on the new General's desk. Teal'c's dignified reaction to that little salute to humor caused her to giggle even now. Still, she had to admit she liked the new T'; he looked so much younger, less formidable, and far more loveable.

Teal'c, thinking her giggle was related to his gentle stroking of her luscious curves, increased his attentions, and soon they were once again engaged in sharing their love for one another; the tray of berries forgotten.

***

Jack woke with the birds as usual. Listening to the incessant chatter of those heralds of the day, he allowed his thoughts to drift. Flashes of Carter's tearful face filled his head. The feeling of numbing cold and the last thoughts he'd had just before the Ancients' stasis chamber did its job overwhelmed him. In that second, he remembered. He'd been in stasis, but his mind had wandered freely. It was as if he'd been trapped in a never-ending dream, a nightmare of awareness really. Unable to catch his breath, Jack sat up abruptly, firmly willing the unwelcome recollection to the back of his mind once more. Padding to the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face, wondering blankly just what had startled him awake this time.

On to Chapter Four