"You’re quiet." Daniel cast a look at Annika as he stopped for a red light. Her hand had been resting on his thigh as it always did when they drove, but the gentle repetitive cascade motion of her fingers told him her mind was elsewhere.

"I was just thinking…two things actually." Her brow remained crinkled in thought. "If Ba’al has the ‘body’ of the weapon that we have been looking for-"

"You don’t think he does?" he asked.

Annika shrugged. "The Ancients went to a lot of trouble to see that it didn’t fall into Goa’uld hands. How did he bypass their traps?"

"Well, a lot can happen in thousands of years. There may have been some sort of event that couldn’t be foreseen. A natural disaster or one of man’s making. We’ve seen evidence of both damaging, even destroying, Ancient technology. Or perhaps he stole it from someone who did manage to pass the tests. The Goa’uld are scavengers after all."

"I guess," she mulled the idea over. "I don’t suppose it matters how he got it, I was just curious."

"What’s the second thing?"

"How did he know the manual we found was the manual for that particular weapon?"

"That one I can answer. Siler activated the hologram when they were conducting their initial analysis, to make sure it was working. He took a photo of the first, er, page, to put with the report, to help visually identify it from the other holographic devices we already have on file. The hologram showed a basic representation of what the weapon should look like." He gave a wry grin. "At the time we didn’t know there was a spy running around, there was no reason to keep the information classified from the rest of the personnel."

She gave a nod of understanding. "Why keep it a secret when everything we do is a secret."

"Exactly. There are at least three pictures of it that I know of, all of them easily accessible to anyone on base." Daniel pulled into their driveway and turned off the ignition. "Now, any other work related questions?"

"Nope."

"You’re sure? Because I don’t know about you, but once we step inside our house Mrs Jackson, there are other things that shall be occupying my mind."

She grinned mischievously at him. "You mean you’re actually going to follow General Hammond’s order to not think about work tonight?"

"Going to do my damnedest," he vowed, hopping out of the car. He circled the vehicle and opened the door with a flourish. "Shall we proceed, my wife?"

Annika accepted his arm, as she stepped out. "With pleasure, my husband."

Daniel swung her up into his arms, fully intending to follow through with the traditional stepping over the threshold. Her arms looped around his neck and her lips eagerly sought his as he walked towards the house. He was just about to step up to the porch when Annika pulled away.

"Wait a sec, I forgot something."

"Let’s see…there’s you, me and the keys to get in," he teased. "What else do we need?"

"No," she giggled. "I forgot to do something. Work related, sort of."

He set her down. "Hey, no work, remember?"

She gave him a lingering kiss before dashing across the yard to his former house. "We didn’t get inside yet!"

"Since when are you the literal one?" He shook his head in amused disbelief. Four very long days they’d been waiting for this moment. What could possibly be more important than this belated wedding night? He leant against the porch rail, watching her step-hop over the picket fence and disappear inside the house. A few minutes later she emerged, locking the door behind her.

"What were you doing?" His curiosity got the better of him.

"Preserving our friendship with Teal’c," she answered cryptically, stepping over the fence.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. To his surprise he saw her cheeks turn pink in the light from the streetlamp.

"Well, um, Teal’c’s going to take your advice and try out the house tonight," her hand flick up to her forehead indicating a vision, "but he’s going to forget to bring something…and, er, let’s just say he’ll pick a very inconvenient time to knock on our door." She stopped halfway across the yard, her hands fluttering to her side, violet eyes suddenly finding the grass beneath her feet fascinating.

He found it totally endearing that Annika, who normally was not embarrassed by anything, was unexpectedly bashful. Pushing off the porch Daniel approached, his fingers reaching out to tilt her chin up. "So pre-emptive measures are taken?"

Shyly she locked gazes with him. "I don’t want any more interruptions."

The love reflecting from her violet depths made his stomach do flip flops. "Neither do I." His lips brushed lightly against hers. She deepened the kiss, her shyness dissolving away as he sent wave after wave of his love and desire through their bond. Once again he picked her up into his arms. "I love you, Annika," he whispered against her cheek.

"Gods, I love you too, Daniel," her arms tightened around him. "So very, very much."

They indulged in wonderfully delicious kisses as Daniel strode the last few meters to their home. Then in the tradition of biblical times, the new husband finally carried his new wife over the threshold.

General Hammond unlocked his front door and quietly closed it behind him. Shrugging out of his jacket he draped it over the high back of one of the dining room chairs on his way to the kitchen. Christ, but he needed a drink. He’d ordered SG-1 to forget about the investigation and the mission until the next morning. An order he fully intended to follow himself. An order he also knew was easier said than done.

He flicked on the light to find the kitchen bench a riot of color. Forty plus bonbons the size of his fist in red, blue, yellow and green cellophane were lined up neatly on the counter top, each tied with a ribbon. He opened the cupboard above the sink for a glass and his eye caught sight of a cling wrapped covered bowl. Dropping in a couple of ice cubes in the crystal cut glass he read the note attached to it.

With a smile playing on his lips he took the bowl and glass back into the living room. Before sitting down he checked that the girls were sleeping soundly in their rooms and stuck his head around his bedroom door to see his wife tucked snuggly in their bed. He poured himself a nip of scotch, then after a moment’s consideration added another large splash, figuring he’d need it if he were to have any chance of unwinding. Turning the TV on and adjusting the volume down low, he flicked channels until he came to an old black and white John Wayne movie. The general loosened his laces, slipped out of his shoes and finally leaned back into the cushions of the settee, determined to follow his own directive. The amber warmth trickled down his throat and settled in a toasty pool in his stomach. It didn’t really do much to loosen the hard knot of worry that had ailed him for the last half week, but damn it did feel good.

As he watched The Duke take down the bad guys, his fingers lifted the cling wrap and sought the indulgent treat within the bowl. He alternated between a sip of scotch and a sweet morsel. There was the quiet shuffle of slippers behind him a few seconds before his wife appeared in the shadowed room, tying the belt of her dressing gown around her waist.

"You’re home late," she yawned.

He shifted slightly on the sofa to make room and still half asleep she sat beside him. His arm automatically looped around her. "I didn’t mean to wake you."

"No matter." She gave him a light kiss, noticing the tension creasing his face. "Rough day?" Since he was actually home tonight, she’d hoped the emergency that had interrupted Daniel and Annika’s wedding and kept him on base for four straight days had been resolved. Clearly it hadn’t.

He took another sip and sighed. "Rough week."

Ruby understood that he couldn’t give any details. She’d been a military wife for over twenty-five years in total; twenty-three with her first husband and now two with George. Neither husband had been able to discuss their work, although she was pretty sure George had a much higher security clearance than her first husband. "I see you found the leftovers." Her hand dipped into the bowl to sample some of the confection.

"Sugar Plum, you make the best damned caramel corn this side of Texas," he declared, eating another kernel to prove his point.

"Oh, I don’t know about that," she smiled. "But the kids seem to like it."

"Just don’t let the parents send us the dental bills." Hammond could feel himself begin to relax. Partly it was due to simply being away from the SGC. It was hard to think about spies when his wife was cuddled beside him, eating popcorn and watching a John Wayne flick. "Did the girls have fun helping you?"

"I’m surprised we had any left to wrap up for the bake sale." Her tone was wry, and she helped herself to another few pieces of the buttery sweet. "It was a case of ‘one for me, one for school’. They were on a sugar high all afternoon."

"Thanks for doing it." He placed a loving kiss to her temple. "You’re a godsend." In more ways than one, he thought. Ruby’s first husband, Chris, had been one of his best friends from the earliest days of his enlistment. Ruby, Chris, George and Louise, his first wife, had been friends from the day they met. George and Louise had helped Ruby after the sudden death of Chris from a massive heart attack, and Ruby had supported him through the long illness of his wife’s cancer. There had never been any romantic notion between them up until three years ago. One night it had just been there, and they had been inseparable ever since.

"I enjoyed it. I like playing grandma." She and Chris had never been blessed with children. She had watched Angie, George’s daughter, grow up, being the ‘Aunt’ that had spoilt her rotten. Ruby loved that she was now ‘officially’ a grandparent, got a wonderful thrill whenever Kayla or Tessa called her Grandma. "Angie called. Her flight was cancelled so she won’t be flying in until late tomorrow evening. I offered to keep the girls here another night rather than disturb their sleep after midnight."

"I may be staying on base again tomorrow," Hammond sighed. Oh, how he’d love to take the day off and spend from sunrise to sunset playing with his granddaughters. A wicked gleam touched his tired eyes. And sunset to sunrise playing with his wife. He may be closer to the age of retirement than he’d care to admit, but there was life in the old cowboy yet!

"Okay. I was planning on making a hotpot for dinner. I’ll leave it in the fridge just in case. If not, then I can freeze the leftovers."

With Ruby nestled against him, he wondered what in tarnation he’d done to deserve such an understanding wife, not just once, but twice. Louise had never grumbled about the postings overseas as he worked his way up the military ladder. She’d just made the time they did have together as special as she knew how. Ruby was equally as accepting. There weren’t many women who would put up with the long hours and being called away at a moment’s notice for reasons he could never discuss. Ruby’s head resting on his shoulder slipped a little and he guessed correctly that she had nodded off. "Sugar Plum, why don’t you go on back to bed?"

Drowsily she nodded, giving a final kiss goodnight. "Don’t be too long. I miss the dint in our bed that you make." She gave him a teasing smile that expanded into a yawn.

"Just a few minutes," he promised.

Once again alone on the couch, Hammond rolled his head back and forth in an attempt to relieve the taut muscles in his neck. He took another sip of his drink, and this time the amber liquid did as prescribed. Totally relaxed his eyelids drooped.

Really should pick myself up and snuggle in with Ruby…Through hooded lids he saw the last showdown begin on the TV. The Texan was a sucker for the western classic no matter how many times he’d seen it. I’ll just watch until the film finishes…only be a couple of min-

The general’s soft snore was drowned out by The Duke’s final stand.

A  A  A  A  A  A

Sam picked up her mail from the box and began a quick sort through in the dim streetlight. Bill, bill, junk mail…and oh look, another bill! Just what I’m looking for, she thought sarcastically. "I have been hanging around Jack too long," she muttered to herself. She grabbed an overnight bag and threw in some clothes, placing it near the door for when she was ready to leave. Which with any luck will be less than ten minutes…

She hunted around her kitchen for scissors and tape, and then dug out the reason for her side trip home. Sam eyed the Bratz doll with a critical eye, taking in the skimpy clothing, exaggerated makeup and bedroom eyes. Not exactly Barbie, but it was what Marissa wanted. So Auntie Sam had bought it for her. And if Auntie Sam didn’t get it in the mail by tomorrow then it wouldn’t arrive by her niece’s birthday. She was already in the bad books with Mark for having to cancel two family dinners he’d organized due to work. She didn’t want to rock the boat on the tentative truce they had declared if she could help it. Her relationship with her brother had been strained for years due to his aversion to anything military, and it was only in the last few years that they had started to communicate.

Sam sealed up the parcel pouch with a final strip of tape and quickly wrote out the address, then she was back out the door ready to go to Jack’s cabin. Buckling her seatbelt with one hand she turned the key in the ignition with the other. Instead of the rumble of the engine there was only a soft click. Tried again with the same results. Dammit! Dead battery. She dug out the auto club card from her glove compartment and organized for them to come out. With a sigh she hit the speed dial of her cell phone. Gave a frown when she got the answering machine. Jack should be home by now. She tried his cell.

He picked up after the second ring. "Hey, honey, what’s up?"

Sam explained about the battery. "Don’t even go there," she warned, knowing precisely what her partner was going to say. The irony wasn’t lost on her. Sam Carter, the ‘fixit’ woman of the SGC, who could improvise power from any number of sources at work, had to rely on the auto club to recharge her car. "Did you want to switch to plan B and come over here?"

"Love to, but can’t."

She heard the frustration in his voice.

"Would you believe I’m stuck in traffic?"

Sam glanced at her watch confirming the time that she already knew. "But it’s after ten thirty at night."

"I know! Tell me about it!" Jack was in disbelief himself. "Seems there was a pile up on the interstate earlier and they’re still clearing it up. I’m stuck between off ramps," he grumbled. "Probably be another hour at least before I can get to the back streets."

Sam let her disappointment show in her sigh. It wasn’t often they were forced to spend a night separated since the non-frat rule had been revoked.

"Ya’ know," Jack drawled. "Now would be a sweet time to discuss our currently inconvenient living situation."

"What do you suggest?"

"Your place by week, my cabin on weekends?"

"Sounds perfect to me."

"I could always double back when I get off this freakin’ road…"

He let the suggestion hang but Sam could hear the weariness in his tone. He was already closer to his place than hers and he was just as exhausted as she was. "I’m sure we can survive one night alone."

"Okay, but I’m coming around extra early in the morning. I’ll bring breakfast."

"Sounds good. I’ll see you in a few hours."

"Sweet dreams, honey."

"You too. ‘Night." She hung up and headed back inside.

While she waited for the mechanic to arrive she caught up on some cleaning and paid the bills she’d just received online. Once her car was fixed she showered and pulled on one of Jack’s t-shirts that she wore as a nightdress. Feeling a little peckish she took inventory of her pantry hoping that something would take her fancy. Hmmm, nothing sweet, I'm in a savory type mood… At the back of the shelf she spied a box and she checked the expiry date. Still good, excellent! Sam opened the cellophane twin pack and placed the flat bag on the glass plate of the microwave.

Janet and Teal’c’s delivery had sparked a craving. And she could ‘do’ microwave popcorn. It was foolproof even for her. With the bag of steaming popcorn in hand, she surfed the lifestyle channels until she came to a cooking show. Jack liked home cooked meals and if they were going to live together…be husband and wife she corrected, her eye catching the glint of the diamond on her finger, then she was determined to learn how to cook something, anything, without burning the ass out of a saucepan. Cooking was a science; measuring, mixing, timing, and she would learn the basics if it killed her. Oops, bad metaphor, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?

Licking the salty butter from her fingers she opened a new page on her computer and started typing up the instructions that Jamie Oliver so cheerfully gave. When he started using terms like ‘a pinch of oregano’ and ‘a handful of cheese’ she flicked channels. Need precise measurements, cooking novice here! She found a program that was more suited to her requirements.

After two shows of seemingly easy recipes, Sam gave up and seriously considered looking into the cost of hiring a cook. She must have missed some step along the way because she couldn’t for the life of her remember how the raw pork chop became a taste bud delight in five easy steps. Her bullet notes only had four. A yawn escaped and she glanced at the clock. She really should think about going to bed. She shut down her laptop and set about ensuring her house was locked up. She turned off the light and was about to do the same to the TV, when a new show started. Maybe third time’s the charm? She snuggled back into the cushions, popping a few more buttery kernels in her mouth.

By the first commercial break the blonde had nodded off, visions of pork chops invading her dreams.

A  A  A  A  A  A

"Hi, Mom." Cassie looked up from the couch at the sound of the key in the door.

"Hi, honey." Janet hung her coat on the hat stand and tossed one of the packets tucked under arm at the young woman. "Special delivery."

Cassie caught the bag of popcorn with a crow of delight. "Just what the doctor ordered." She split the seal and her hand dove inside for a handful.

Janet leant over to give her daughter a backwards hug, her fingers sneaking inside the bag to pinch a few kernels for herself. "How was your day?"

"Good. The forms arrived from the college." She gestured to the kitchen table that was strewn with paper. Cassie had already been accepted into the local university despite that her final year of high school was only half over. Her grades had been such that the dean had offered a place a semester early, but she had declined wanting to finish up the school year with her friends.

"Have you worked out what classes you want to take?"

"A few…there’s also a listing of how much it is to stay in the dorms."

Janet caught the concern in her voice. "Honey, don’t you worry about that. I opened a college fund for you the day General Hammond organized your adoption papers. There’s more than enough to cover tuition, dorm fees and maybe even a car for you to zip around in."

"Really?" Cassie’s eye’s lit up.

"Uh huh." She opened a bottle of red wine and poured a glass, trying to stifle the pang of heartache that ripped through her. Seeing the pamphlets and forms rammed home that Cassie was leaving home in a few short months.

"Mom? Everything okay?" The young woman sensed the change in mood. "You don’t want me to live on campus?"

"If that’s what you want, then I do." Janet took a sip, letting the rich burgundy warm her insides. "But you’re my child…I’m not quite ready to," she cut off at the sudden lump in her throat.

"Have me fly the coop?" Cassie finished quietly.

Janet nodded.

"It’s not like I’m going far."

"I know." The doctor sat down beside her daughter. "I’ll just miss having you here."

"Miss my magazines and CDs scattered all over?" Cassie teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Yep," Janet agreed with a smile of her own.

"Miss my clothes hanging on the furniture?" The teenager’s words were muffled by a mouthful of popcorn.

"Yep. Even your wet towels placed strategically on the bathroom floor."

"I could drop in and occasionally mess up the place if you like," she offered with a straight face.

"I may just take you up on that," Janet replied as seriously as she could.

Mother and daughter grinned at each other then with a chuckle they hugged.

"What were you watching?" Though they’d separated, Janet kept her arm draped around Cassie’s shoulders.

"Just finished ‘The Matrix’." The girl looked sheepish.

Janet rolled her eyes. "Again? Now that’s something I won’t miss."

"Well, the whole concept is fascinating," Cassie defended her favorite movie.

The SGC doctor tried not to shudder. The premise of living in a dream world struck a little too close to home. She could count a half a dozen instances where in reality SG teams had experienced an illusion that appeared real. And in point of fact, most of the population of Earth was under delusion that there was no such thing as evil aliens and that space travel consisted only of the occasional astronaut being shuttled to the MIA space station. "And I’m sure it has nothing to do with Keanu Reeves playing Neo."

Cassie was all innocence. "Nope. Keanu who?" She gave her mom a kiss on the cheek. "I’m off to bed."

"Okay, good night, honey." Janet watched her daughter wander down the hall. She’d grown up so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday that the frightened little girl stepped through the wormhole clutching Sam’s hand. She had always wanted children, but her husband hadn’t. That should have been my first clue that the marriage was doomed to fail from the get go, she thought wryly. After the divorce she’d been too wary of any men who made a pass at her and had buried herself in her work. The dream of being a mom seemed unobtainable until that mission to Cassie’s home-world. It hadn’t been easy; she swore that Hanka children suffered from a double dose of teenage hormones that made them more difficult than Earth kids. But since Nirrti’s retrovirus had almost killed her, Cassie had reverted back into the loving person she’d been pre-puberty.

Downing the last of her wine, Janet changed into the sweats she wore around the house. After making sure the house was locked up, she switched the lights off and curled up back on the soft sofa with a second glass of wine and the remainder of the opened bag of popcorn she’d tipped into a bowl.

Janet flicked through the TV channels, looking for a suitably mind numbing show to help her brain shut down. She’d run every test imaginable on the chemical makeup Jacob had provided of the original Goa’uld isotope, looking for some way to detect it. The results wouldn’t be ready until morning to see if she’d been successful. And even if she had, they weren’t sure if they’d be able to detect the altered version that Imesty had used. She hoped that SG-1 would be able to get an up-to-date sample. Although in truth they did have a back up plan if the tests failed and there was no isotope to analyze. It was simple, if inefficient and demoralizing. All teams returning from off-world would be kept isolated for at least eight hours and then be x-rayed.

Above all she prayed that SG-1’s famous good luck would hold and they’d get definitive proof of who the zatarc was. She could no longer think of them as a spy, for they had no control over what they had done. Though she doubted that would be any consolation to the victim. Besides the obvious problem of them revealing SGC secrets, simply the knowledge there was a spy was having a psychological effect on the personnel. It had only been four days and everyone was viewing everyone else with suspicion. Friends were bickering with each other, casual comments were being analyzed for signs of deception. It was only a matter of time before blows were struck. The doctor had suggested that a base wide announcement be made relaying that they suspected the spy was a zatarc, thinking that it would relieve nerves stretched to breaking point. The general had denied the request and she understood his reasoning. They didn’t want the zatarc, and thus Ba’al, to know that they had figured it out.

Aside from work, Janet was also worried about Cassie. With the onset of these nightmares, she was desperately afraid that some new hidden tampering by Nirrti would rear its ugly head. They knew the Goa’uld’s experiments could lay dormant for years, only activating at specific stages in life. Bad dreams had always plagued the alien girl near the anniversary of her people being massacred, but they had gotten worse about two months before Cassie’s sixteenth birthday and Janet had almost lost her then. And those dreams weren’t half as intense as the one’s she was having now. What if it was happening again? What if they couldn’t find a cure this time?

Janet drew in a steadying breath. Playing ‘what ifs’ was a pointless exercise and would only drive her nuts. There was nothing more she could do tonight as far as the isotope went. In the morning Anise and Freya would arrive with any information they had learned about Martouf. As for Cassie, she would just have to trust that if her daughter did start to feel ill, that she’d tell her and they’d take it from there. The doctor focused on the TV. It was a late night news program. Perfect. What better way to forget the big problems than by listening to the petty problems the station conglomerates decided were of the utmost importance? The droning voice of the presenter began to lull her mind. By the time the show went to commercial break Janet had drifted off to sleep.

A  A  A  A  A  A

Teal’c let the hot water sluice over his tired body. He’d just completed a strenuous workout in the gym, needing to ease the tension that had gripped him for the last ninety odd hours. Although he had to admit that he wasn’t as riddled with anxiety tonight, as he had been when the sun had risen. The conclusion they had reached regarding the Tau'ri shol’va played a large part in that. He’d found the idea of a traitor within their ranks abhorrent, not wanting to admit that the brothers and sisters, for that is how he viewed the SGC personnel, would betray them to the Goa’uld. To deceive and scheme in alliance with the enemy was beyond redemption as far as the warrior was concerned. A crime punishable by death. He pushed aside the thought that his former Jaffa colleagues had thought the same about him. It relieved him more than he’d like to admit that the shol’va was an innocent pawn, unaware of their actions. It may make the investigation more difficult but his faith in his chosen family had been restored.

He had dined this evening with Keelah. He found her company most enjoyable. They were both a product of their upbringing, though their Master’s had been different. As such, she hadn’t developed the sometimes annoying, Tau'ri habit to fill lapses in conversation with needless babbling. She recognized his silence wasn’t an indication of ill humor or disposition nor an invitation to inform him of the latest scuttlebutt. Teal’c had identified long ago that the adage that women were the gossipmongers of the Tau'ri species was a gross misconception. The men were just as eager to pass along any snippets of unverifiable hearsay.

Though he had resided at the SGC for the better part of a decade, he knew that he remained an enigma to many of the personnel, and it was refreshing to have another person who understood his nature. Her presence was soothing and he found himself hoping that Keelah would decide to stay on Earth. She was still adapting to her new found freedom and Teal’c had decided to help ease her transition, not only to erase the automatic responses ingrained by her Master, but to also educate her in the often confusing ways of the Tau'ri. He felt it was his duty, though the self-assigned task was a pleasurable one. It had nothing to do with trying to escape Annika Jackson’s matchmaking eye. Well, not much. He did not know who the redhead had decided was his perfect match, but if he was busy attending to the ex-slave, then it provided a more than adequate excuse for him to turn down any suggestions she may make. Teal’c did not have the time or the inclination to enter into matrimony. His focus must be on defeating the Goa’uld.

Teal’c had hoped his friend would have forgotten about his single status. Yet despite the current crisis, the psychic had mentioned the topic during the short breaks they had taken over the last few days. A distraction was needed before the Jaffa found himself with a bride tied to his arm. He eyed the set of keys on his nightstand. She had shown an interest in helping him decorate his new living accommodation even if he did not choose Daniel Jackson’s previous residence. Perhaps the quicker he found a suitable abode the more likely Annika Jackson would forget this ridiculous notion of marriage. A rare smile touched his lips. Not very probable, however, SG-1 had survived on less optimistic theories. If he were going to live in his friend’s former home, then he would do as Daniel Jackson suggested and ‘try before he buys’. Best to determine as soon as possible if the house and neighborhood would suit his requirements, for if it did not, he would have to research other locations.

Decision made, he scooped up the keys and pulled on a jacket from his meager supply of civilian clothing, then packed a small bag of essentials for him to take. A few meditation candles and mat, fresh clothes for the morning, towel and toiletries. As an after thought he added a bag of the popcorn Janet had ordered for him, a few cans of soda and a handful of herbal tea bags from his personal supply of snacks he kept in his storage locker. Wrapping a bandana around his forehead to hide the golden crest of Apophis, he headed topside and signed out the car that General Hammond had assigned to him. He double checked that he had his driver’s license tucked into his pocket and started the engine. The license had also been arranged by the general, along with a credit card, after SG-1’s accidental trip to the year 1969. The Jaffa hadn’t had much use for the vehicle until now, since most of the time when he went off base he was accompanied by his teammates, who out of habit tended to drive.

When he pulled into the driveway of his potential residence, he couldn’t help but notice that the Jackson household was in darkness, except for a dim glow lining the curtain edges of the master bedroom. Undoubtedly the newlyweds were indulging in the final act to make their union official. The Jaffa found it curious that it was written into Tau'ri law that a marriage was not legal until it was consummated. Why would one take a wife if one did not wish to participate in the marriage bed? He found it even more disturbing, that until recent times, it was custom for witnesses to be present for the first mating act. On Chulac if a fellow Jaffa attempted to play voyeur to that blessed moment, said Jaffa would not live to see the sunrise. The union between husband and wife was sacred, not for anyone’s eyes except for the couple involved. And O’Neill called the ways of the Jaffa odd! To quote the colonel, "It was the pot calling the kettle black".

Teal’c unlocked the front door and turned on the light. Though the house had been cleared of the personal possessions, the larger furniture such as the couch and easy chairs remained. The couple had mixed and matched the furnishings they owned and the ‘leftovers’ had been arranged in the now uninhabited house. The solid wooden bookcases that had held the archaeologist’s hundreds of books had been swapped for Annika’s smaller wrought iron ones. The old fridge remained, yet it was now Annika’s table and chairs that made up the dining room. Other appliances such as a TV, stereo and microwave were also present. Sitting on the coffee table that clearly was designed to go with the bookcases, was a large box with a note on top, addressed to the Jaffa. Curious, he picked it up, recognizing the redhead’s handwriting.

He opened the cardboard flap to find a kettle, toaster, a collection of pots and pans, a dinnerware set and cutlery. He spied a second note taped to one of the half a dozen plates.

His deep baritone laugh echoed around the room. It seemed that Annika Jackson was not going to be sidetracked by the interior decorating project. He must come up with an alternative strategy. Teal’c contemplated his dilemma while he filled the kettle and set it to boil, then placed the sodas he’d brought in the fridge. Leaving the bag of spicy tea to seep, he unpacked his duffle, setting up his toiletries in the bathroom attached to the main bedroom. As he did so, he noticed that fresh sheets and a towel were neatly folded on the end of Daniel Jackson’s former bed, clearly for his use. He made quick work of making the bed, then with cup of tea in hand, the Jaffa meticulously inspected every nook and cranny of the house. Not displeased with the results he considered the overall layout of the dwelling. The Jaffa had already inspected three other potential homes in the last month and none had been appropriate for various reasons. He tilted his head listening for any disturbing noises such as traffic or inconsiderate neighbors. All he heard was the occasional chirp of a cricket.

This house would be most satisfactory. In the morning he would discuss a suitable price with Daniel Jackson. He had a reasonably good idea of what the going rate was for real estate in the area and he would ensure that the offer was fair. He wouldn’t put it passed the kind hearted archaeologist to undersell because it was to a friend. In fact he wouldn’t put it passed the man to simply give him the house if he could get away with it. Material possessions were not a priority to his friend, (excluding the collection of artifacts he had acquired,) and being generous was part of his nature. However it was a matter of principle and honor that the Jaffa purchase the house.

Happy that the decision had been made, Teal’c grabbed a soda, opened the bag of jalapeno cheese popcorn into a bowl and made himself comfortable on the sofa. He flicked on the TV. If he was to live among the Tau'ri, then he must act like one. Watching late night programs he had determined was the equivalent of kelnoreem for the humans. The mindless drivel seemed to send them into a catatonic state that lasted for hours, and the light of the TV in a darkened room was the equivalent of the candles he burned, although they did not seem particularly refreshed when they switched the device off. Nibbling on the popcorn, the advertisement for the up and coming movie caught his attention. Jennifer Anniston starring in ‘Picture Perfect’. The narrator’s brief synopsis described it as a comedy, where to get a promotion at work, the main character pretended to be betrothed to a man she’d just met.

The wheels in the Jaffa’s head began turning. Could this be a possible solution to Annika Jackson’s matchmaking? If she believed him to already be involved in a relationship, then surely she would leave him be? The honorable warrior was not normally prone to acts of deception with his friends, however desperate times called for desperate measures. He eagerly waited for the opening credits to be over, intending to watch the movie for any tips he may need.

Twenty minutes in, Teal’c was finding it difficult to pay attention. While he supposed the movie might amuse some, the typical Hollywood film did not appeal to his sense of humor. If it weren’t for research purposes, then he would have changed the channel. Battling to stay awake he mentally worked out a list of the female personnel on base, trying to determine who he should ask this favor of. Whomever he chose would have to be very clear from the onset that it was a charade with no prospects of it being an actual relationship, just like in the movie.

Ten minutes later the Jaffa’s chin rested on his chest, the lack luster script and the sleep deprivation of the last few days finally catching up with him. He never saw the end of the movie, where the best laid platonic plan went up in a puff of smoke when love unexpectedly intruded.

A  A  A  A  A  A

Jack unlocked his door and wearily trudged into the cabin. He was so not a happy camper. Over two whole friggin’ hours it had taken to travel the normally twenty minute route. He would have been better pulling off on the side of the road and bedding down in his truck. He’d done it before and Lord knows he’d slept in a hell of a lot worse places. Sheer stubbornness had prevented him from doing that. Stubbornness and the overwhelming desire to sleep in his own bed, even if Sam wasn’t tucked in beside him.

He resolved that this was to be the last night ever that he spent without his fiancée. Half a smirk played on his lips at the term. Who woulda’ thought that he’d be getting married again? Not him, that’s for sure. He remembered Sam’s stunned expression. The glitter of her mermaid costume paled in the sparkle of her sapphire eyes when he’d lowered the engagement ring down to her. Jack had been quite proud that he’d been able to pull it off without Sam guessing. The smirk turned into a full fledged grin. It was an added bonus that he managed to keep the proposal hidden from Casper. It was almost impossible to hide anything significant from her, her hocus pocus could pick up on anything at anytime. Jack didn’t envy his best friend come Christmas or Annika’s birthday.

Stifling a yawn he grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaning down with one arm draped on the swinging door he perused the contents, looking for a midnight bite before hitting the sack. He spied the salsa jar and unscrewed the lid. Teal’c reckoned he was conducting a science experiment with it. It looked fine to him. Cautiously he gave the chunky sauce a sniff. Smelled okay too. However, the Jaffa did have a keener sense of smell than the colonel. Do I really wanna’ risk a gut ache when tomorrow…today, he adjusted, we’re going on a mission? Nope. He replaced the lid and shoved it back on the shelf. Sam was the scientist, she could determine if he was growing a new life form or not. Kicking the door shut he moved on to plan B. His cupboards were not exactly brimming with snacks. Hmmm, popcorn. Oh, yeah! Popcorn with a sprinkling of Tabasco sauce and he’d have something pretty close to that fancy stuff Teal’c had bought.

While the microwave did its thing, the colonel shucked his shoes and socks and stripped off his clothes until he was down to his boxers. He was just pulling on a worn USAF t-shirt when the high-pitched beep announced his buttery snack was ready. Adding a few splashes of the hot sauce he shook the bag up and then tipped the hot kernels into a bowl. Munching as he headed for the bedroom, he turned off the lights and tapped the switch on the TV sitting on the dresser, then hopped into bed. Watching a replay of a hockey game was a poor substitute to having Sam under the covers with him, but it was as exciting as this night would get.

Hammond had ordered them to take the night off. An order Jack had creatively interpreted as more of a suggestion and chose to ignore. Jacob had come through for them with the layout of Ba’al’s ship. Apparently it was being used as a snakehead hub with a dozen lesser Goa’uld, who had joined in alliance, having quarters there. SG-1 had spent the later part of the day working out a game plan. Though he was reasonably happy with what they had come up with, Jack couldn’t stop thinking about it. Despite evidence to the contrary, the colonel always liked to go in with a back up plan. Personal experience from long before the Stargate program, had taught him the harsh lesson that plan A rarely worked. He’d generally worked out plans B to Z in his head, each one a solution to a gone to hell situation. Everything from Daniel getting sidetracked by some prehistoric rock, which had happened more times than he could count, to the diplomat leaping out to ‘make peace’ and chat. Admittedly, he hadn’t tried that on a Goa’uld ship before, but the colonel wasn’t taking any chances. Then there was Teal’c, who out of the blue could decide that some Jaffa honor/revenge thing just had to be avenged there and then. That too had happened often enough. There was also a distinct possibility that at any time Sam would get her hands on a new technology or device that could not be stuck in her pocket to be deciphered at a later, safer time. This was almost a certainty with their next mission, given that they were intending to break into the ship’s database that they knew was at least partially encrypted. He’d made a whole separate list of scenarios focused around Annika, largely based on her inexperience. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration himself screwing up someway, or ‘external influences’ like some Jaffa stumbling across them or one of them getting injured.

The last time Jack hadn’t planned far enough in advance, he’d ended up in a stinking Iraqi jail for four months. He hadn’t considered a plan Z2, a contingency for when his ’chute hadn’t opened and his emergency pack jammed. He’d managed to get it open in the nick of time, but his landing had been hard, knocking him out cold and breaking his leg. Plus someone had dropped the dime on their sneak incursion, the Iraqi militants had been waiting for them, and Jack had also scored a bullet to the knee in his one ‘good’ leg. By the time he’d regained consciousness, he was being dragged to prison, watching out into the distance as his teammates dodging gunfire got airlifted out.

Jack took a long swig of his beer, banishing the memory of that hell hole. In the time he’d been traveling slower than a snail on the interstate, he’d hashed out the likely ‘oops’ moments that could arise. Had made a side note to keep an extra close eye on Daniel, especially if they ran into Imesty and co. The archaeologist’s actions were emotionally instinctive at the best of times and this particular mission was far from ordinary. If they came face to face with the Goa’uld responsible for Annika’s death from the vision, his friend may need reining in.

Normally Jack was all for sending any snakehead to meet the real gods, however this was supposed to be a stealth mission. In and out without anyone the wiser. There were two main reasons for this. First, if Balls knew his spy had been identified, he could flick the kill switch and the person would end up blowing their own brains out. Second, they were hoping to use the spy to feed Balls disinformation. Having Balls find three dead Goa’uld on his ship would put a serious crick in that plan.

Funnily enough, the colonel didn’t have the same strong concerns regarding Annika. She hadn’t seemed quite as freaked out as Daniel by the dream vision. He paused remembering that flash of raw emotion when Annika had let her defenses down. Then again, appearances could be deceiving. Eating another fiery morsel, he mentally amended plan J to include ‘and/or Casper’, just in case.

Jack plumped up the pillow beside him and tucked it against the headboard for him to lean into. While the war on the ice battled on, he once again ran through his action plans. Daniel had asked him once how he was so calm before a mission. This was why. He spent as much time as possible running different strategies and contingencies. Hell, even his contingencies had contingencies, all adaptable to the given moment and the input of his team. So when they stepped through that puddle he felt secure that they would solve whatever hiccups the day would dump on them and get their butts back home.

He made it all the way to plan Z, which was short and sweet, (when all else failed run like a bat out of hell,) before a final yawn drew him into the Land of Nod.