"Any word on the status of the remaining Kulls?"

Sam nodded. "The Tok'ra reported that they have been absorbed into whatever Goa'uld's army they had been fighting with at the time Anubis was killed."

"Although," Daniel added, "apparently they are having trouble issuing commands to them as they only seem to understand the derivative of Ancient Anubis used. It's an obsolete dialect. As far as we know, the only Goa'uld left who knows it is Ba'al."

"And it's been confirmed that Ba'al survived the device's self-destruct?"

"Oh, yes," Jack gave an annoyed huff. "He's now strutting around Goa'uld Town boasting he was the one to get rid of Anubis."

"Technically he was," Annika pointed out.

"Only after we softened the dishrag up for him," the colonel grumbled.

"Do you think any of the Goa'uld are in a fit position to launch an attack against us any time soon?"

Teal'c shook his head. "All the Goa'uld sustained heavy losses. Any fighting that ensues in the immediate future will be against each other as they try to regain the status they previously had, or to attack those they believe to be more vulnerable than themselves to absorb their armies and holdings."

"I think that's just about everything."

The debriefing had been long, and despite the relaxed seating arrangements they were all eager to call it a day. The debrief had been unusual for a number of reasons. For starters it hadn't just been their recent battle with Anubis discussed. Their last three missions had been gone over in minute detail. It wasn't being held in the underground facility of the SGC, but in a brightly lit office with comfortable couches, and it had been a novelty to be in a room that had natural light. Well, it had natural light until the sun had set. And the novelty had quickly been overshadowed by where the office actually was and by who was chairing the debrief.

"Except for one more order of business." The President jotted a final note in the margin of his report and snapped the folder shut. He rose, giving a nod to Hammond.

SG-1, who was following the President's lead by also rising, paused. Openly curious they watched as the general walked across the Oval Office to the President's desk and retrieved a plain cardboard box. As he turned back to them they all saw the smile on their CO's lips. The President drew their attention back to him.

"Normally, this would be done with a lot of fanfare in three months time at the Independence Day celebrations. However, given the unpredictability of your days, I didn't want to leave to chance that you wouldn't be off-world. My other option was to do this at tonight's reception down below, but publicly I wouldn't be able to say what I want to say." He stood formally in front of the team. "SG-1, the people of Earth owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. Countless times you have put your own lives on the line at great personal sacrifice to yourselves. You have died and miraculously been resurrected, most of you more than once, been put through trials that I can't even begin to understand, and yet your dedication and commitment to the fight against the Goa'uld hasn't wavered. For acts of courage above and beyond your duties, it is my great honor and pleasure to present to Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, Mrs Annika Jackson and Teal'c of Chulac, the highest commendation I can award, the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

Five pairs of eyes widened, exchanging stunned looks with each other before swiveling to Hammond, who was proudly holding out the first of five square velvet cases.

The President removed the ribbon and stepped up to Jack, pinning it to the left chest of the colonel's dress uniform. "Congratulations, Colonel."

"Thank you, Mr President." Jack's normal flippancy was buried by the shock of the moment. He was pretty sure the handshake he gave was firm, but he wouldn't place bets on it.

"Major Carter, congratulations." He repeated the procedure with Sam, who was equally tongue-tied as Jack. The President gave her a warm smile before moving on to Daniel, this time removing the larger medallion from the jewelry case as the archaeologist had no uniform to pin the smaller badge on.

"Um...thank you, Mr President." Daniel tilted his head down to allow the shorter man to place the ribboned medallion around his neck.

"No, thank you, Doctor Jackson." The President shook the archaeologist's hand. Moving on to Annika he grinned at the redhead's stunned expression. "Didn't get a psychic heads up?"

"No, sir."

"Nice to know some things can be a surprise."

As their fingers touched in the customary handshake, a picture flashed before her eyes, and she blurted out, "Congratulations, Mr President."

"I should be saying that to you."

"I'm not the one expecting a grandchild," she replied.

His eyes widened. "I didn't know I was."

Annika's smile faltered a little. "Um, sorry for ruining the surprise."

The President's returning smile was warm. "That kind of surprise is welcome." Then his expression turned mischievous. "Besides, it's going to drive my wife crazy trying to figure out how I knew before her." He stepped across to Teal'c, who accepted the medal with a formal bow.

"I am humbled you consider me worthy of such an honor, Mr President."

"You do your people and ours proud." The President stepped back giving them each another proud smile.

The team was about to relax their formal stance when they realized Hammond had two more velvet boxes, these smaller than the award cases.

The President grinned at their raised eyebrows. "It's just like Christmas, isn't it?" Chuckles echoed around the room as he stepped back along the line of five and stopped in front of Sam. "Major Samantha Carter, I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel." He deftly removed the gold cluster of fanned oak leaves on her shoulders and replaced them with the silver leaves of her new rank.

Sam had recovered enough from her initial surprise that she was confident her handshake was firmer than the first. "Thank you, sir."

"You've earned it, Colonel." The President accepted the final box from Hammond and took another step to the side to stand in front of Jack. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, I hereby promote you to rank of Brigadier General."

Jack took a deep breath then pulled away slightly before the President could attach the star to his epaulette. "Thank you, Mr President, but I must respectfully decline."

The President wasn't the only one taken aback. "May I ask why?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Jack asked formally, his expression uneasy. After the President’s nod, he cleared his throat. "As much as I'd appreciate the pay rise, I'm not ready to be pinned to a desk job."

The President tilted his head in confusion. "What makes you think you're being reassigned to a desk?"

"Well, sir, the generals I know have a cushy chair surgically attached to their rear ends and get lost in the abyss of paperwork that piles up on their desk." Jack shot Hammond a lopsided smirk. "Present company excluded. Paperwork and I are not a good match, as I'm sure General Hammond will confirm."

"Jack," Hammond deliberately used his Christian name, making it clear that he considered him equal in rank despite the surprise refusal, "there are no intentions of altering your current active duty placement."

Jack looked from Hammond to the President and back again. "Really?"

Both men shook their heads in confirmation.

"Oh, sweet," he grinned. "In that case I accept."

As the President attached the shiny stars to Jack's uniform there was a rap on the door and the President's assistant poked her head around.

"Mr President, I'm sorry to interrupt but people are wondering at the delay."

"Ah, Julie! Perfect timing as usual." He beckoned her in. While striding to his desk he addressed the SGC personnel. "Julie is my version of a psychic wonder. She always knows when my meetings are wrapping up." He removed a digital camera from the top drawer. "Jules, would you take a picture of us please?" Flashed a winning smile at his guests. "It's for my personal file. It's not often I'm in the presence of true heroes."

Julie hooked the garment bag she held in one hand on the door handle then accepted the camera, making sure the frame was focused. Clicking the shutter, she noted that the smiling group of people, who had been in conference with her boss for the better part of the afternoon, looked almost embarrassed. She found such modesty refreshing compared to the arrogance of the other military and congress types she dealt with on a daily basis. "Would you all like copies?"

Six heads bobbed up and down.

"I'll have them printed and couriered out in the morning." Looping the camera around her wrist, she unzipped the garment bag and held out a dinner jacket to her boss. "Mr President, the reception?"

The President took it with a good-natured grin. "This woman is the one who really runs the country."

"That's supposed to be a State secret, Mr President," Julie replied in a deadpan voice, passing over a fresh tie.

"I hate these things." He heaved a sigh. "Not the commendations of our troops," he hastily assured. "But the political two-step and currying favor in between." He paused giving a conspiratorial wink to SG-1 and Hammond then spoke to his assistant. "I don't suppose you can give my excuses?"

"No, sir." Julie didn't blink an eye, though a small smile touched her lips. Clearly this conversation was a common occurrence.

"No emergency of State that requires my immediate attention?"

"No, Mr President."

"Nothing from your end, Generals?" He looked hopefully at Hammond and Jack.

"Sorry, Mr President." Hammond shook his head, keeping a straight face.

"Mrs Jackson, anything?" he playfully implored.

"Nada, Mr President," Annika's cheek twitched. "Psychic radio waves are silent."

He mournfully conceded defeat to his assistant. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

"I'll let them know, Mr President." Julie gave a nod farewell to everyone else and left as quickly as she'd come. The office's other occupants weren't far behind her.

All joking aside, the President adjusted his tie as the Oval Office door closed behind them. "You should know, that if Hayes wins the next election he's officially confirmed to me that he will be making Kinsey his vice president."

"We had heard that rumor," Daniel grimaced.

"If I could oust him before the election I would, but I can't use 'offending alien diplomatic relations' as my reason to Congress."

"We understand, sir," Hammond replied.

"However, if you find who he wanted to use that memory device on, it might help."

"We're already fishing, Mr President," Jack assured. "No nibbles as yet."

"The moment you have a solid bite let me know."

"We will, sir."

He patted down his jacket to make sure the notes for his upcoming speech were tucked in his pocket. "I have to enter through the main doors. I'm assuming you'd like to be a little less conspicuous?"

"It would be appreciated, Mr President," Hammond nodded.

"These men will take you to a side entrance." He gestured to two of the Secret Service detail by the door.

"Thank you, Mr President."

He gave a nod and then strode ahead with four of the agents flanking him.

Watching the leader of their country's retreating figure, Annika fingered the medal around her neck. "Never thought I'd be getting one of these."

"You deserve it." Hammond still wore a proud smile. "You all do."

Teal'c thoughtfully eyed the new insignias on his comrades’ shoulders. With a hint of a smile he said, "Congratulations General Jack and Colonel Sammy."

Everyone stared at the Jaffa's uncharacteristic casual wording, then the significance of the names hit them and all eyes turned to Annika.

She gave a good-natured shrug. "Hocus pocus strikes again. I guess Ba'al's room didn't block as much as he thought it would."

One of the agents shifted slightly.

"General, do we have to join the shindig downstairs?" Jack asked. The nice bonus of the award and promotion did little to compensate for the fact that they had been cooped up on their best behavior for more than seven hours. The last thing any of them wanted was to spend what was left of the evening mingling with people who didn't have the required clearance for them to speak freely, hedging questions and spouting off their official cover stories.

"We have to make at least an appearance, General," Hammond replied.

Jack gave his head a small shake at the new form of address then brought his mind back to the unpleasant situation at hand. "Make an appearance," he repeated thoughtfully. "Sweet! We circle the room, say hi, and can be out of there to make our reservation at Bobby Van's."

"Sounds like a plan." Daniel removed his medal and tucked it in his pocket. Answering questions about how he earned it was beyond his ken at the moment, as was putting up with the speculative looks as to why it had been given months ahead of the official ceremony. He noted that the others were doing the same though the women replaced their awards in the velvet cases.

"You're welcome to join us, General," Annika invited. "I know there's a porterhouse out there with your name on it."

A high-pitched beeping interrupted before Hammond could reply.

Jack fished his cell from his pocket. He blinked at the small screen then scrolled down to see if there was a forwarding number. Wasn't shocked that there wasn't. His expression battled with duel emotions, pleased to have a perfect excuse to skip the formal reception altogether, and distaste that said excuse would mean having to meet up with one of his least favorite people. Pleasure won out. "Doggone it, sir, gonna' have to take a rain check."

Hammond's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is that so, General?"

He nodded and turned the phone around so not only Hammond could see but the rest of his team.

"How did he know about the promotion?" Sam asked, keeping her voice low so the Secret Service agents couldn't overhear.

"I don't know, Colonel, and I don't want to know," Hammond replied.

"I take it you know where he wants to meet?" Annika frowned at the text message. That was even more cryptic than her visions.

Jack nodded. "A pub."

"There is no mention of a specific destination," Teal'c pointed out.

"Not needed," Jack shrugged. "He mentioned it when he was released into my custody the first time." Inwardly he scowled as he realized Maybourne had been planning that escape from the moment Jack had visited his jail cell regarding Hammond's forced retirement. Planning and also setting up possible contact points for the future.

Maybourne hadn't lasted long on the planet the Tok'ra had found for him after that supposed Utopia planet debacle. A month after they had thought they were rid of the man, they had received word from the Tok'ra that Harry had left the planet. A letter addressed to Jack, given to the town leader had been forwarded on to the Tok'ra and then on to Hammond. Maybourne had claimed the citizens were too damned good and honest for him and that he was intending to find a people more fitting for his personality and skills. A year later Jack had received a postcard from Texas saying 'There's just no place like home. One day we'll have to catch up and reminisce on the good old days,' It had been signed Hutch. They had no idea how Maybourne had found his way back to Earth, although they assumed he had 'appropriated' a cloaked ship of some kind. Jack and Hammond had debated whether or not to organize a search for him then vetoed the idea. Maybourne hadn't had to tell them of his return. The fact that he had, told them that he'd be willing to help them out if his skills were needed. Until recently, they hadn't had the occasion to try to make contact.

"Why would he pick such a public place?" Daniel was slightly confused. Maybourne wasn't stupid. Why risk coming out in the open when he was officially dead? It would only take one person to recognize him and every government agency would be looking for him again.

Jack gave a tight smile. He absently flexed his leg, feeling the scar stretch from his last encounter with Maybourne when they had both been having paranoid hallucinations and Harry had tried to blow him up with a grenade. "Because he knows I won't shoot him with a room full of witnesses."

"You think he's got solid intel?" Hammond asked.

"He wouldn't reply to my ad if he didn't. And he'd have to have something pretty big...big enough to stop my instinctive urge to shoot him and haul his ass off to the brig."

Hammond sighed at the convenient excuse Maybourne had provided. If he didn't know better he would say it had been planned. SG-1's luck was just uncanny. "I'm assuming that you'd like to take your team for backup?"

"Of course, sir," Jack replied innocently. "He did try to blow me up the last time we met." He neglected to add that he had in turn shot Maybourne twice during that same encounter. Just because they were kind of working together didn't mean that old grudges on both sides weren't being held.

"Very well." He gave a curt nod. "Report in once it's over. I'll give your apologies to the President."

Five faces smiled back at him.

"Closest exit?" Jack looked inquiringly at one of the agents.

"This way, General."

SG-1 hurried out before Hammond could change his mind.

Hammond chuckled to himself as he watched his primary team streak from the room faster than a wormhole engaging. They didn't bat an eye at facing down a Goa'uld or a battalion of Jaffa, but put them in a room full of politicians and they ran like a bat out of hell. He gave a nod at the lone remaining agent patiently waiting to escort his now party of one to the reception. Heaved a sigh. Sometimes SG-1 had all the luck.