NOTES:

The story of how Sam was injured, and how Jim and Blair came to join the SGC, hasn't been written yet. I do hope to write it -- hopefully sooner than later. ;)

And yes, all the loose threads in this story will be picked up in other stories later in this series -- provided I manage to write them!

This story is dedicated to all the people who live daily with a physically disabling condition, and to all the people who make our lives easier by accepting us for who we are.

I'd like to thank everyone at Stargate-Cascade and Sentinel_Betas for their support, especially Andi, Caro, Sheila and T.W., who acted as primary betas for this story.

SPOILER WARNING:
This story is set after the S8 halfway-point episode, Endgame, and may contain spoilers to any and all SG-1 episodes up to and including Endgame.

Also Note: In this universe, Heroes did not happen, and Janet Fraiser is alive and well.

An image of lush trees filled the presentation screen.

"We first connected to this planet several weeks ago," Sam continued. "SG-15 and 16 have made several trips for preliminary exploration and set-up of survey equipment."

A few more images, each filled with verdant plant life and breathtaking landscapes, followed in quick succession.

"The planet is rich in various natural resources, including what appears to be a significant deposit of naquadah, as well as other precious minerals and fossil fuels, and some of the plants could have useful medicinal properties."

"No plants," Jack said.

"We've instituted precautionary measures to ensure the base won't be overrun by plants again, General," said Dr. Lee.

Jack threw the significantly considerable weight of his full skeptical displeasure at the scientist's light-hearted optimism, making him squirm and look around for a hole to hide in.

"Ahem," Daniel cleared his throat loudly. Dr. Lee sighed in relief as Jack's attention swerved to Daniel. "SG-15 and 16 also found some signs of previous occupation on the planet," Daniel said, picking up the presentation remote and clicking through several images of long-abandoned crumbling buildings almost overgrown with plants. "Apparently, the Goa'uld tried to colonize the planet at some point, but then abandoned it. I'd like to take Blair," Daniel exchanged warm, eager grins with the anthropologist seated next to himself, "and see if we can figure out more about what happened to these settlements."

"Just Blair?" Jack asked pointedly. "What about the rest of your team?"

Both Daniel and Blair glanced guiltily at Teal'c and Jim, sitting silently side-by-side at the far end of the table, their twin suffering looks eloquently conveying their resignation to being forgotten by the academic half of their team.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Daniel coughed. "I meant we'd all go."

"Okay." Jack glanced around the table. "Anyone have any ideas why the Goa'uld would abandon such a resource-rich planet?"

"The only thing we can think of is the earthquakes," Sam responded. "They're very frequent, and quite violent. In fact, the exploratory mission had to be cut short when the earthquakes became too severe for the teams' safety."

"Earthquakes so severe they stymie even the Goa'uld?" Jack said admiringly.

"Apparently so," Sam said. "The teams managed to set up monitoring equipment before they were forced to leave, and we've been dialing in periodically to retrieve the observational data. We've registered earthquakes in the range of Magnitude six to eight on the Richter scale every few hours, and even one that rated a nine."

"Nine?" Jack repeated incredulously. "That's honking huge, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. Big. Bad. Had the MALP bouncing up and down like a ping pong ball." Daniel waved a hand up and down to demonstrate.

"Ping pong ball?" Blair exclaimed. "It felt like someone put me in a soda can, gave it a really good shake, then popped the tab!"

Jack frowned. "You weren't *on* the planet, Mr. Sandburg," he said.

"Oh, no, no," Blair waved away the misunderstanding. "I happened to be looking straight at the MALP feed when the big one hit. It was just..." He shook himself violently, as if he could rid himself of the memory by its reenactment.

"The geology team has been analyzing the seismic data," Dr. Lee picked up the exposition, "and they feel they can predict the occurrence of the bigger seismic events with a fair degree of accuracy. Thus, we can schedule missions --"

"Fair, as in inside the ballpark, or inside a hundred football fields?" Jack interjected.

All eyes around the table turned to Jack.

"What?" Jack said. "It's a fair question."

A chorus of groans erupted around the table. Jack stayed his ground, waiting expectantly for someone to answer him.

"Look, Jack," Daniel said firmly. "We've looked over the data, and I'm willing to stake the safety of my team on these predictions, okay?"

Jack looked at Daniel, then at Blair, Teal'c and Jim in turn. Satisfied that the team was all with Daniel on this, he turned back to Daniel. "Fine," he beamed. "Have fun."

Taking that as a sign of dismissal, Sam clicked off the projector and turned on the overhead lights, and everyone started gathering their things and getting up. Sam deftly punched a few buttons on a pad attached to the armrest of her wheelchair, and the chair backed up a pace, swiveled smartly, then proceeded to glide smoothly out of the room as Jack watched, open-mouthed.

Waiting until everyone else had filed out, Jack rounded on Daniel, who had remained seated at his place by the table. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

Daniel pulled a face and tilted his head towards Jack's office. Jack, getting the message, gathered up his folders, and the two walked side by side to the office, where Jack waved Daniel in ahead, then pulled the door shut after himself.

"Okay," Jack said, waving Daniel into a guest chair and dropping down into another guest chair next to it. "What's up?"

"Well," Daniel said, waving a hand in the general direction in which Sam and her chair had just disappeared. "As you just saw, Sam's getting way too comfortable in that chair."

"Isn't that the infirmary wheelchair?" Jack asked.

"It is," Daniel confirmed. "Since the chair was supposed to be temporary, no one thought we needed to get Sam a chair she can maneuver herself -- as you know, those infirmary chairs are designed to be pushed by someone else, not moved around by the user. Well, as you can see..." Daniel held up a hand, made a shrugging motion, then dropped it in disgust and exasperation.

"Neat job," Jack commented.

"Very," Daniel agreed.

Jack considered that for a while, then asked, "How's her therapy coming?"

"That's the thing. It's not."

Jack's wide eyes and tilted eyebrows demanded an explanation.

"She, um... She keeps missing her sessions."

Jack's eyes became even wider and his eyebrows tilted at an even more severe angle.

"I mean, it's always one project or another. She gets into it, forgets the time, and..." Daniel threw both hands up in the air.

"Sounds like she's caught your habits," Jack remarked, then ducked as Daniel shot him a piercing glare.

"The point is," Daniel pressed on, "she's always managed to find time for an hour or so in the gym each day, except when we're in the middle of some extremely pressing situation. Which," he quickly interjected at Jack's look, "is more often than not, but you get my point, right?"

"Yeah," Jack said, thoughtfully propping his chin in his hand. "So, what's wrong? She doesn't like the looks of her therapist?"

"Jaaaack," Daniel complained.

"What? You don't think a hunky, hot therapist..." Jack trailed off as Daniel fixed him with a 'say one more word and you die' glare. "Okay," he recovered, deftly changing tracks. "You tried reminding her?"

"Both Janet and I've talked to her repeatedly," Daniel answered. "She keeps saying she's sorry and she'll do better, but then..." He waved a hand to indicate that nothing came of it.

"So maybe more drastic measures are called for?" Jack suggested.

"Yeah," Daniel sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "I thought about sitting on her, reminding her each time her therapy sessions are scheduled, even dragging her there by force if necessary. But..." He sighed again. "I mean, you can drag a horse to the water, but, right?" He turned to Jack, who hurriedly nodded agreement. "Right. So, unless Sam herself is motivated..." Daniel looked expectantly at Jack.

"Huh?" Jack said, surprised to suddenly find himself on the spot. "What do you want *me* to do?"

"Well, you are the General!"

"And what does that have to do with this?"

"Well, isn't it a General's job to motivate his troops?"

Jack stared at Daniel in dumbfounded amazement at this piece of very logical illogic. "Fine," he finally pouted. "I'll talk to her."

Daniel smiled. "Thanks, Jack." He stood and started towards the door.

"You're very welcome," Jack threw over his shoulder.

"Oh." Daniel stopped with his hand on the door knob. "By the way, there's one more thing."

Jack looked at Daniel and waited.

"Well, it's... Pete," Daniel said. "Sam won't see him. I mean, they've talked on the phone and exchanged emails, but..."

"And couple's counseling fits in a General's job description how?"

Daniel shrugged, waved a hand in parting, and left, paying no heed to the exaggeratedly annoyed scowl Jack threw at his back.

Sam bent over the worktable, carefully aligning the thin wires on a metal plate, affixing them in place with sure, deft fingers. Once the wires were arranged to her satisfaction, she quickly snapped the plate onto a voltage meter to check that the current was indeed running, then snapped it out again. Gathering a few tools off the table, she dropped all the equipment into her lap, then grabbed the edge of the table and gave herself a carefully measured shove. The work stool skidded back on its rollers, coasting halfway across the room, where she pushed a hand against a cabinet to smoothly change direction. Dragging her toes on the floor to halt the stool in front of her parked wheelchair, Sam transferred all the tools onto the chair's empty seat, then hoisted herself off the stool and onto the floor. Sorting through the tools, she placed the ones she needed immediately on the floor, then lay down and hitched herself forward until her head and shoulders were beneath the chair, and started to work on the power system attached there.

Jack slowly inched out from the shadow of the lab door, where he had been watching for the last few minutes. Crossing the lab on soft, sure feet, he stopped a few inches away from Sam without making a sound, and looked down at her outstretched body.

"Hey," he said, making Sam jump and bang her head against the bottom of the chair.

"Ow! Ugh, what... sir?" Sam spluttered as she flailed in a vain attempt to extract herself from under the chair.

Jack knelt, stilling Sam with a hand to her shoulder, then gently tugged and pushed until she slid completely free of the chair and helped her sit up. He cocked an eye at the angry red spot on Sam's forehead and remarked, "That's going to bruise."

"I... You... You just have to go around sneaking up on people, don't you?" Sam griped, then froze as Jack gently caressed the sore spot.

"Hey, it was just too tempting," Jack smiled in apology. "Well, anyway." He pulled away and glanced about the room with studied interest. "Quite a setup you've got here."

"Setup, sir?" Sam asked as she dragged herself up and hoisted her body onto the work stool.

"Yeah," Jack got up, dusted himself, and dropped down into the wheelchair. Then he sat up, lifted his butt, looked under it, and dug out the tools that were lying there. Sam quickly relieved him of them and laid them safely aside on a nearby work surface, and Jack settled back down into the wheelchair with a smug, self-satisfied smile. "Comfy," he pronounced appreciatively, bouncing himself slightly up and down in the seat. "What'd you do with the suspension? I'd kill to have a suspension like this in my car."

"I could adapt it for your car, sir, if you want," Sam offered brightly.

"Really?" Jack said, unlocking the brakes on the chair. "Well, that's very nice of you." He studied the control pad on the armrest. "There's one problem, though." He punched a button, which sent the chair careering straight backwards. Jack quickly punched another button, stopping the chair just before it would have crashed into the cabinets lining the far wall, then threw a baleful glance at the cabinets as if they were responsible for the near-mishap. "How fast does this thing go, anyway?" he asked.

"Theoretically, it should be able to reach sixty miles per hour," Sam replied.

"Sixty!" Jack exclaimed. He gingerly pressed another button, and the chair moved forward this time, returning to its former position at a much more sedate pace.

"Well, theoretically, sir." Sam shrugged. "Obviously, I haven't been able to test it at full speed down here."

"I would hope not," Jack said emphatically. "I don't want to have to arrest you for hit and run driving, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Sam giggled. "Sir? You were saying, about your car?"

"Ah, yes. My car." Jack slapped the armrest for emphasis. "Well, while I'd love to have you fit this suspension system on my car, that car happens to be in my garage at home. *And*..." He leaned forward, his expression suddenly serious. "You can't go wandering around the suburbs of Colorado Springs in a wheelchair powered by a Goa'uld energy crystal."

"Sir.. I..." Sam stammered, shocked by Jack's sudden shift in mood.

"You're getting mighty comfortable in here, Carter," Jack pressed on. "But when are you planning on getting out? Hm?"

"I..." Sam lowered her face, her lips tightening into a thin line.

"Isn't it time for your therapy session?" Jack asked gently, indicating the clock with his eyes.

Sam just huddled tighter, shoulders trembling as she tried to hold back her tears.

"Look, Carter," Jack continued patiently. "You *can* walk. This..." He rubbed the chair with his hand. "You don't need this. I mean, in another twenty, thirty years, I'm going to be mightily glad you made this comfy suspension for wheelchairs, when I'm being pushed around a retirement home in diapers, but..." Jack paused, waiting while Sam guffawed, then sniffled hard, then heaved a few hard hiccups before getting herself back in control again. "But now," Jack went on. "Now, you need to at least *try* to walk. Do you understand?"

"And what..." Sam sniffled, "what if I can't?"

"If you've *tried*, and you can't," Jack said, "I'll carry you myself if we ever have to evacuate the base in a hurry. But if you don't try..." Jack waited until Sam looked him in the eye. "I can't justify putting anyone else at risk because of you. You understand that, don't you, Colonel?"

"I... I'm not a colonel any more," Sam protested. "I've been discharged."

"Oh?" Jack said. "Tried that on Hammond once. He didn't let me get away with it, and I'm not letting you get away with it, either. Once a colonel in the Air Force, always a colonel in the Air Force. Discharge or not."

Sam looked at Jack wide-eyed as she took that in.

"And in any case," Jack added, "you may not be officially in the Air Force anymore, but you *are* on the SGC payroll as a civilian consultant. I made sure the papers were signed and dated so you were never off the payroll, one way or the other. And being a member of the SGC, civilian or military, carries its duties and obligations. So, as commander of this base, I'm ordering you, your first priority is to get your legs back in working order, as far as they possibly can be. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Sam whispered.

"Good," Jack said, getting up from the chair. "Here," he gestured for Sam to take the chair. "I'll come with you."

Loose gravel crunched under Jack's feet as he strode down the mountain path toward the firing range, the rapid staccato bursts of a firing machine gun growing increasingly loud as he approached. Turning the last corner, he jogged the last few paces that brought him alongside Teal'c, who was standing just outside the range, watching impassively as Jim, with Blair plastered to his back, fired at a complicated array of targets. Jack waited until Jim emptied the magazine and paused to reload before speaking.

"I see you managed to get Ellison and Sandburg topside."

"Daniel Jackson suggested it might be useful for Blair Sandburg to gain more familiarity with a machine gun," Teal'c clarified.

Jack turned to the range, where Jim raised the reloaded gun at the targets, Blair still in position behind his back. He turned back to Teal'c.

"I don't see Sandburg practicing."

"He did, in fact, practice for about an hour," Teal'c stated.

Jack stared as Jim fired another volley. "What *is* he doing?" he finally asked.

"He is endeavoring to hit all the red targets while not hitting any of the blue ones."

Jack looked again at the arrangement of the targets. "That's impossible," he said flatly.

Teal'c's raised eyebrow said that was so completely obvious it did not require stating.

"How long has he been doing this?" Jack asked.

"An hour and a half," Teal'c replied.

"What? And you let him?"

"He has been improving. He is now hitting about ninety percent of the red targets while hitting only about half of the blue ones."

Jack studied the targets again with renewed interest. "Wow, that's quite an accomplishment," he granted. "Still, they've been at this for two and a half hours, right?"

"Two hours," Teal'c corrected. "Jim Ellison spent the first half hour helping Blair Sandburg acclimatize to the machine gun, then he and Blair Sandburg spent the next half hour shooting side by side. Then Blair Sandburg decided he had done enough shooting for the day, at which point Jim Ellison requested his assistance in focusing himself. His scores have improved remarkably with Blair Sandburg's assistance."

"Okay," Jack said, cocking his head as he absorbed this information. "Still, enough is enough. I'm going to go put a stop to this. You, however." Jack slapped a hand onto Teal'c's shoulder. "I've got another job for you."

Teal'c inclined his head, indicating Jack should continue.

"See, it's Carter," Jack explained, guiding Teal'c a few paces away from the firing range for a little more privacy. "I just had a chat with her therapist, and turns out most of her exercises can be done without the therapist here, if she had a training partner who's willing to learn what to do."

"I see," said Teal'c. "And this would allow Samantha Carter to perform her exercises at a time convenient to herself, rather than to the therapist." Noticing Jack's slight frown at his use of Sam's given name, he explained, "She asked that I no longer refer to her as 'colonel,' as she is no longer a member of the Tau'ri military."

"What's with everyone not wanting people to use their rank?" Jack grumbled. "Maybe I should just order the entire base to call me 'Jack'?"

"That would be ill advised, O'Neill," Teal'c admonished. "You would forget you are the General unless people called you that."

"Ah! There *is* that," Jack grimaced.

Teal'c's eyes twinkled at Jack in fond amusement. "I shall endeavor to be of assistance to Samantha Carter," he said, turning back to the subject at hand. "I take it the therapist is still here?"

"Yes, and waiting for you," Jack confirmed.

"Very well. I shall then leave Jim Ellison in your hands." Teal'c inclined his head in parting, and walked away with the self-satisfied air of one who has just passed an onerous task to someone else.

Jack pouted as he watched Teal'c leave, then with a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and headed back towards the firing range.

"Ellison!" he shouted as he came within conversational range of the man.

Jim paused firing and looked up. Jack gestured for Jim to approach. Jim reluctantly straightened up and turned around, but refused to budge from his spot. Letting the show of insubordination slide, Jack took the last few steps forward himself to stand directly in front of Jim.

"What the heck are you doing?" he asked.

"You know very well what I'm doing," growled Jim. "I heard you talking to Teal'c."

"Oh, *really*," Jack snapped back. "Then you'd understand why I'm asking, once again, what the *heck* are you doing?"

Jim blinked in incomprehension.

Jack sighed. "Mr. Sandburg." He turned to Blair. "Do *you*, at least, know what I'm getting at?"

Blair shifted uneasily, not meeting Jack's eyes.

"Oy!" Jack slapped his forehead and looked up to the heavens. "That's it! You two stay cooped up inside the mountain for... how long has it been? And then you finally come topside, and instead of relaxing and enjoying the sunshine, you do *this*!" He flung a hand at the bullet-riddled targets. "Surely, between the two of you, at least one should know that *this*" -- he stabbed a finger at the machine gun Jim was still holding -- "isn't designed to do *that*!" He swung the finger to point furiously at the targets.

Jack glared at the two men, who both continued their sullen insubordination, Blair stubbornly refusing to meet Jack's eyes while Jim stared defiantly back.

"Okay." Jack signaled the firing range attendant to come over. "Hand over that weapon, and gather up any gear you have," he ordered. "We are going fishing!"

"Fishing?" Jim repeated in surprise. "Where?"

"Hey, it's a big mountain," Jack grinned, and started walking away without waiting for the other men to follow his orders.

Jim and Blair looked at each other doubtfully, then Jim handed over his gun, and they slowly followed Jack. By the time they caught up with Jack near the topside access shed, Jack was walking back towards them with a cooler in hand.

"I got beer," Jack explained when he noticed their questioning look.

"I don't see any poles," Jim remarked as he fell in step beside Jack.

"I've got string in my pocket, we make our own," Jack announced.

"Um, General?" Blair asked, as he half-jogged to keep up with the taller men's longer strides. "Aren't you on duty?"

"Well." Jack paused, tilting his head as if considering the issue for the first time. "Rank hath its privileges!"

Jim and Blair exchanged startled, amused glances, then hurriedly scrambled after their leader.

"General!" Blair shouted. "You don't happen to have apples in that cooler, do you?"

"Why, of course I do," Jack yelled back. "Got a nice, tall fence for you to paint white, too!"

Daniel stood in the middle of the lab, pursing his lips as he peered at the screens of information coming off the latest MALP feed. "I need at least a six-hour window," he muttered.

"Can't find any." Dr. Lee shook his head. "See here?" He pointed at a spot on a printout he was perusing. "There's a four-hour window, which you might stretch to five, but I wouldn't recommend it."

"Damn it, we need a decent look at those ruins," Daniel fidgeted. "We really need to know if the planet has always had these extensive seismic disturbances, or if they are a relatively recent development."

"That information would be crucial in deciding what methods to try in countering these seismic events," said one of the geologists. "We've got all sorts of ideas for stabilizing unstable geologic configurations, but thing is, we can't experiment on Earth -- we don't want to sink San Francisco by mistake, for instance."

"Perfect playing ground, huh?" Daniel remarked, once he'd gotten over the image of San Francisco sinking.

"Yes, indeed," the geologist smiled back.

"Right. So." Daniel went back to perusing the various screens. "About finding ourselves a six-hour window..." He trailed off as he frowned at the video feed. "Um, what's this?" He tapped a corner of the screen.

A technician immediately tapped a few keys and the image zoomed in to the spot Daniel indicated.

"Is that smoke?" Daniel asked as he squinted at the top of the cone-shaped mountain.

"Could be forest fire," Dr. Lee suggested doubtfully.

"Okay, call up the control room and get them to dial in to the planet again, we need to point the MALP for a better look," Daniel ordered.

"But sir," the technician said. "We need the General's authorization for an unscheduled dial-out, unless it's a Class D or above emergency."

"Right." Daniel slapped his forehead. "Damn budget cuts. Okay, where's Jack --" His pursuit of Jack's whereabouts was interrupted by the ringing of the phone, which he snatched up. "Lab Four. Dr. Jackson speaking."

"Dr. Jackson," said Walter. "I, um, I have the President on the line, and..."

"So? Get Jack," Daniel said.

"Well, sir, the thing is, the General's informed me he's going fishing."

"Fishing," Daniel repeated.

"Yes, sir," Walter confirmed, and waited uneasily for Daniel to say something.

Daniel scratched his head. *He* knew that the transfer order for the poor soul who had interrupted Jack's last 'fishing' break had been signed before the incident, but the base grapevine couldn't be convinced otherwise. His eyes fell on the smoking mountain on the video screen. "You know what?" he said to Walter. "I'll take that call. Just keep him on until I get there."

"Yes, sir," Walter responded, his voice light now that Dr. Jackson seemed to have a firm handle on the situation.

"Okay, um, I'll just..." With a distracted half-wave at the other scientists, Daniel rushed out the door.

As Jack approached the access shed with Jim and Blair in tow, a security guard saluted and held out a folded piece of paper. Jack gingerly shifted the unwieldy bundle cradled in his arm to accept the note, and the bundle squirmed and wiggled, poking its head out from under the bunched up jacket to reveal itself to be a barely-weaned puppy. The guard followed the puppy's movements with his eyes before catching himself and snapping back to attention.

"Like dogs?" Jack asked.

"Yes, sir," the guard responded.

"This one needs a home," Jack suggested expectantly.

"I live in the single's housing, sir," the guard replied, keeping correctly at attention. "No pets allowed."

"Oh." Jack leaned back. "Too bad. Well, let me know when you get your own place. I'm sure Ellison here," he tilted his head to indicate Jim, "will fish you a puppy out of the woods in no time."

"Yes, sir!" the guard said, snapping even more rigidly to attention.

"Right. As you were." Jack smiled at the man and proceeded on through the access door. Jim flashed an apologetic smile at the guard as he passed, and Blair flashed a friendly wave as he, too, followed.

"Okay." Jack's eyebrows lifted as he glanced at the contents of the note. "Change of plans. We're going to my office first."

"What is it?" Blair asked.

"Walter says Daniel's talking to the President."

"The President? As in...?"

"The President," Jack confirmed. "Come on, we better hurry, before Daniel sells him a bridge on Alpha Centauri Five."

The trio rushed through the halls and corridors of the base, heedless of the startled glances and double-takes they attracted along the way, and trooped into the briefing room, only to freeze to a halt as they took in the sight of Daniel sitting in the General's chair in the General's office, talking animatedly into the red phone.

"Ellison?" Jack asked hesitantly. "What are they talking about?"

Jim tilted his head. "Budget," he reported. "Congressional committee, fiscal projections, risk assessment."

Jack stared at Daniel as if he were an alien creature. "How can he look so... happy, talking about that stuff?"

Blair shrugged and pulled a face and Jim shook his head, both indicating they had absolutely no idea.

At that point Daniel noticed the men in the briefing room. He tilted his head up to catch Jack's eyes, then made an emphatic 'stop' gesture, followed by an urgent wave that clearly said 'scat, go away.'

Jack carefully handed the wiggling puppy to Blair and started to go forward anyway, but stopped when Daniel waved him away again, even more emphatically than before. Sighing resignedly, he turned to Jim. "Just tell me," he begged, "he's not selling him a bridge on Alpha Centauri Five?"

Jim cocked his head and listened again. "No," he finally said.

"Thank --" Jack started to say.

"But he's selling him Colonel Carter's new power reactor," Jim cut in.

"What? Awww." Jack spun around and grabbed a handy notepad off the briefing room table. He furiously scratched a note and marched into the office, where he shoved the pad in Daniel's face. Daniel glanced at the note and nodded acquiescence without breaking a stride in his talking. Jack tapped Daniel's shoulder, trying to get further confirmation that he understood the importance of whatever the note was about, and got shooed away for his trouble. Jack persisted further, and Daniel grabbed the notepad, scribbled something, and shoved it right into Jack's face, banging Jack's nose in the process. Jack gingerly rubbed his nose, stared at Daniel for a moment more, then reluctantly admitted defeat and retreated out into the briefing room, where he sank into a chair and threw the notepad across the table.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, Blair tilted his head at the notepad while trying to keep the crawling puppy from falling off his shoulder. It read: Carter. First Priority. THERAPY!!!

Underneath it, in Daniel's distinctive scrawl, it said: SHUT UP AND GO AWAY!

"So... General?" Jim said, his voice brimming with suppressed laughter.

"Awf!" Jack stretched his arms and shook his head like a dog shaking off water. "Let's just leave General Jackson there to his battles," he said, shooting one last disgusted look at Daniel, "and go find a home for this baby, shall we?" He crooked a smile at the puppy in Blair's arms.

"Actually, Chief," Jim said as the three of them walked out of the briefing room. "I need to go have a word with Colonel Carter. Why don't you and O'Neill go ahead and foist this guy," he placed a gentle hand on the puppy's head, "on some poor, unsuspecting schmuck?"

"And whose fault is it that we're hunting for a schmuck to take this puppy?" Jack grumbled. "I swear, Ellison, your senses manage to find trouble anywhere."

Jim just laughed and walked away.

"...so Daniel got the President to authorize a supplemental expenditure," Sam said, her hands efficiently taking apart a machine gun.

"So, let me guess," Pete's voice wafted out from the speakerphone in a corner of the worktable. "You are even now working on that amazing new power reactor that's going to cut the operating budget of the program in half!"

"Actually, not right at the moment," Sam smiled. "Right now, I'm working on Jim's weapon."

"Jim?" Pete asked.

"Major Jim Ellison, newest addition to SG-1," Sam explained. "Well, one of the two new additions."

"Ah, yes. You mentioned that in your email," Pete said. "It's 'Jim,' is it?"

"He asked me to call him that," Sam said. "I've been trying to get him to call me 'Sam,' but so far he keeps calling me 'Colonel Carter.'"

"A man who knows to respect superior women," Pete commented admiringly.

"He *is* quite the gentleman," Sam laughed.

"Unlike some other men you know?" Pete asked.

Sam burst out giggling. "He had an idea for modifying the triggering mechanism of his weapon to allow for more precision in hitting targets selectively while on full-automatic," she explained, turning the subject back to her current project.

"Hitting targets selectively with a full-automatic gun?" Pete repeated incredulously.

"It won't be possible for a normal person," Sam agreed. "But Jim is... special."

"He's special? How?" asked Pete.

"Um..." Sam hesitated.

"Come on, this is a secure line, isn't it?" Pete prodded. "And I do have clearance, remember?"

"Yes, you do," Sam smiled. "But still... We should be careful."

"Okay, you're right," Pete admitted. "So, when are you going to come over," he went on, "and tell me all about Jim, and everything else that's been going on?"

Sam's fingers tightened on a piece of the gun she had just picked up. "I..." She twisted her fingers convulsively around the piece. "I just..."

"You need more time." Pete sighed. "I know, you keep saying that. But Sam... It's been... I mean, you've never been here since I moved in."

"I know, Pete," Sam said. "I'm sorry."

"It's going to be your place too," Pete said. "I want you to help me pick the furniture. Decide what color to paint the bedrooms. And now that you aren't going... on field expeditions..."

"I..." Sam pressed her lips tightly together. "I miss it."

"What, going on field expeditions?" Pete asked.

"Yes," Sam whispered. "It was... my life."

"Sam," Pete said. "The point is, you still *have* a life. I mean, I know I used to joke about you being a superhero, but the fact is, I'm... It's such a relief to... to not have to wonder anymore, you know? Spend my days thinking maybe the next phone call, the next knock at the door..."

"I know." Sam nodded. "I know. But..."

The ringing of the chime on Pete's front door sounded faintly through the phone connection.

"Oh, lord," Pete grumbled. "Who could it be?"

Sam glanced at the clock, which showed it was rather late for uninvited visitors. "Maybe it's the cute next-door neighbor with the home-baked cookies," she teased, her voice still wavery.

"Hey! I never said she was cute!"

The chime rang again, this time a little impatiently.

"Damn it," Pete cursed. "I better go see who it is. Talk later?"

"Yes, Pete," Sam replied. "Later."

"Bye. I love you." Pete hung up.

Sam switched off the speakerphone and buried her face in her hands.

"Coming!" Pete called out as the chime sounded yet again while he walked towards the door. He looked through the peep-hole to check his visitor, and reeled back as he got an extreme close-up of Jack's face, hovering inches away from the hole.

Blinking away his surprise, Pete finally managed to open the door. "General?" he asked.

"Hey," said Jack. "Nice house you got here," he added, pointedly looking around the outside of the structure.

"Ah... yes, thank you," Pete mumbled. "Um... would you like to come in?" He held the door open.

Jack walked into the house with a crisp nod of thanks, and continued down the hall, openly looking over the place along the way, and turned sharply to stop in the middle of the living room.

"Very nice," he repeated. "What have you got here, three bedrooms?"

"And a den," Pete added automatically.

"And a den, too. How nice," Jack beamed. "Bet the yard's big too."

"General." Pete finally started to lose his patience. "Why are you here?"

"Ah, why am I here?" Jack asked back. "Well, that depends."

"Depends... on what?"

Jack ignored the question and began moving around the room, his gaze blatantly skimming over the sparse furnishings. "You settled in okay?" he asked. "How's the new job?"

"Fine," Pete answered, nonplussed.

Jack turned. "Just 'fine'?"

"Well..." Pete shrugged. "Being the new guy on the block is... But it'll be okay. They'll get over it."

"Yes." Jack raised a finger in agreement. "That's the spirit." His gaze fell on a potted plant in a corner. "Hey! This is Carter's plant, isn't it?"

"Um, yes. Sam asked me to take care of it while..."

"Looking good. In fact, looks better than the last time I saw it." Jack tilted his head and studied the plant a moment longer.

"Sam doesn't always... She gets busy, and..." Pete smiled tightly.

"Ah. Yes she does, doesn't she." Jack finally turned his full attention on Pete.

"Yes... But... That's Sam, you know?"

"Yes. She is," Jack agreed. "So." He pulled a card out of his shirt chest pocket. "Here." He extended it to Pete.

Pete frowned, but reached out to accept the card. "Visitor's pass?" he asked.

"Come any time after oh-eight-thirty tomorrow, they'll let you in." Jack explained.

Pete blinked at the pass. Jack smiled and started to leave.

"Um, General?" Pete called.

"Yes?" Jack turned back.

"You came here just to give me this?"

"Hm." Jack crooked his head. "Appears that way, doesn't it?"

"Why?"

"Why? Well." Jack looked around the house again. "Because we make plans." Jack turned still, deep eyes fully on Pete. "And then, life happens. Good night, Shanahan."

Jack left Pete standing in the middle of his living room, studying the visitor's pass.

"Samantha," said Teal'c. "Did the therapist not say to perform these exercises for an hour."

"Just one more time." Sam grimaced as she grasped the bar and started slowly pulling herself up to a standing position.

Teal'c stood near, ready to support her if needed. "We started these exercises at seven," he reminded, glancing pointedly at the clock, which showed the time to be nearly eight thirty.

"Yes, I know," Sam said, as she finally reached a fully upright position. "Just once more..." She gritted her teeth as she began transferring her weight from her arms to her legs. For a moment, her weight was distributed evenly between her arms and legs, then as she tried to ease a little more weight onto her legs, her hand slipped, causing her upper body to collapse forward. Teal'c's arms immediately closed around her, easily supporting her full weight.

"Samantha," he tried again. "If you overexert yourself, you may injure yourself again. This is enough for today. Now." He gently but firmly turned her away from the bar. "Let me assist you to your chair."

"I..." Sam looked strickenly up at Teal'c. "I'm never going to do this. I can't even stand on my own! How am I ever going to walk?"

"Samantha," Teal'c wrapped his arms around Sam and gently rubbed her back. "Do you not have a saying that a great city is not built in a day? This is just our first day. We have many more days ahead of us."

"I..." Sam sobbed. "I..."

Teal'c held her closer, hands still rubbing soothingly along her back. "You are a brave warrior, Samantha," he murmured. "This is a battle you can win. And I will fight by your side, every step of the way."

Sam nodded hard against Teal'c's broad chest.

Neither paid attention to the light knock on the door, or the door opening. It was only when light footsteps heralded someone entering the room that Teal'c looked up.

Pete stood frozen near the entrance, taking in the tableau. Sam, sensing the sudden tension in Teal'c, lifted her head.

"Pete?" Sam jerked up in surprise. Teal'c shifted his hold to keep her balance. "Pete, what are you...?"

Pete turned on his heels and walked out of the room.

"Pete!" Sam called after him, instinctively taking a step forward and slipping out of Teal'c's grasp. Teal'c quickly slid down with her, breaking most of her fall, but she still landed with a harsh jerk. "Pete!" she called again.

Out in the corridor, Pete walked rapidly toward the elevators, almost colliding with Daniel as he went. Daniel blinked in surprise at the other man's fast receding back, then turned and rushed into the therapy room, where he found Teal'c on his knees, supporting Sam as she huddled on the floor, obviously in pain.

"Uh, was that Pete? What happened?"

"Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c. "Please get Dr. Fraiser. I am afraid Samantha Carter may have injured herself."

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Daniel slammed both hands down onto Jack's desk, right in front of the other man's face.

"And good morning to you, too," Jack returned calmly. "How's your day going?"

"Damn it, Jack!" Daniel yelled. "Don't tell me you haven't heard what happened!"

"Oh. Well, Doc said Carter's okay. She just overdid things a little."

"Sam is okay? Yeah, Sam is okay. No thanks to you!" Daniel banged the desk again, so hard the whole thing rattled. The security guard in the briefing room looked over to see if his assistance was needed, and Jack raised a hand to indicate things were under control.

"Daniel," he said. "Calm down. And close that door."

"Ugh!" Daniel let out a frustrated yell, but he took a deep breath, walked deliberately over to the door, and closed it forcefully but without actually slamming it.

"Good," Jack said. "Now, come over and sit." He pointed at a chair.

Daniel walked back and threw himself down into the designated chair. "Really, Jack. What the hell were you thinking?" he muttered.

"You said Carter won't see Shanahan," Jack stated.

"Yeah."

"So now she's seen him."

Daniel stared at Jack in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Very," Jack answered.

Daniel inspected Jack as if trying to decide whether he should call for the firing squad, the exterminator, or the men with the strait jacket.

"Look," Jack finally decided to explain further. "This is a classic case of dragging the horse to the water. I got the horse to the water. Or the water to the horse. Whichever it is. The rest..." He dusted off his hands to show it was none of his business.

"And..." Daniel squinted suspiciously at Jack. "What about the timing? Why'd you tell him to come at eight thirty?"

"I said to come *any time after* oh-eight-thirty," Jack clarified. "So he came precisely at oh-eight-thirty, did he?"

"Come on, Jack," Daniel insisted. "You knew he'd come at eight thirty."

Jack calmly started sorting the piles of paper on his desk.

"And you knew Sam wouldn't stop at eight. She'd likely go over," Daniel kept pushing.

"So what if I did?" Jack said, without looking up from the papers.

"So. Why. Did. You. Do. It." Daniel leaned forward until he was in Jack's face again.

Jack finally looked up at Daniel. "Why do you think?" he asked.

"You..." Daniel frowned as he thought it through. "You wanted him to see her. While she was doing her therapy. You wanted him to know..." Daniel trailed off. "Okay." He collapsed back into his seat. "Could have worked. If only he hadn't walked in on..."

Jack raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Teal'c," Daniel explained. "Sam... I guess she was feeling frustrated... Or something... Anyway, she'd been crying, and Teal'c was..."

"Hugging her?" Jack suggested. "Holding her in his arms?"

"Yeah." Daniel held out his hand in agreement. "That."

"Okay," Jack said, once again turning his attention to arranging the papers on his desk. "And?"

"And?" Daniel repeated. "What do you mean, 'and'?"

"So they were hugging," Jack said, his tone clearly indicating 'what's the big deal?'

Daniel's mouth dropped open. "Well, I mean..." He glanced around in bewilderment, searching for a way to explain this extremely simple concept to a man who apparently failed to grasp it. "Well... well... well... They were... hugging," he finished lamely.

"Daniel." Jack dropped the paper he was holding onto the desktop. "Say you come home and find Sha're crying in another man's arms. What do you do?"

Daniel sat up in surprise at the unexpected question. "Um, um, er... Ask what happened?" he stammered.

"Right. Why?"

"Why? Well, Sha're is crying, so something must have..." He stopped. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Jack went back to sorting papers.

Daniel sat there, mulling things over. After a while, he ventured, "So... um, I suppose... Pete gets only one chance?"

Jack's eyes clearly said, 'duh.'

Sam tapped a few numbers into the keyboard, stared at the results on her monitor, then tapped a few more keys, and once again studied the screen thoughtfully. She reached for a notepad on the worktable without looking, and the notepad clattered to the floor as she misjudged the distance and hit the pad at a wrong angle. Letting out a frustrated groan, Sam rolled back her stool and tried to reach for the pad, and almost overbalanced when the stool rolled further as she leaned forward.

"Whoa," Jim said, stopping the stool with one hand while holding Sam into her seat with the other. "Watch out, Colonel."

Sam wrenched herself upright and pulled the stool back tight against the table, her arms tightening around her shoulders as she huddled in on herself.

Jim said nothing as he bent to pick up the notepad. He carefully returned it to the tabletop, positioning it exactly so it was in easy reach and not likely to fall off again, then turned to leave.

"Wait," said Sam.

Jim turned.

"You're here to pick up your weapon."

"Well..." Jim shrugged. "There's no hurry. If this is a bad time..."

"No." Sam rolled back her stool, more carefully this time, and pulled herself along the worktable until she reached a cabinet at the end of the table. "Here." She opened the cabinet and pulled out Jim's machine gun. "I *think* it should do what you wanted, but..."

Jim took the gun and hefted it in his hands, turning it over and around, then thoughtfully fingered the trigger. "Maybe..." He looked at Sam. "You could come with me to the firing range to test this out?"

"So it *is* active," said Blair.

"Well, there's active, and then there's *active*," said Dr. Lee, tapping the smoking mountain on the monitor display. "Some volcanoes smoke for years without erupting, right?" He turned to the geologist for confirmation.

"Right," the geologist responded. "We can redo the analysis of the seismic data taking into account the presence of a possible activating volcano, but in order to reliably predict whether and when this mountain might erupt, we need to place observation instruments on the mountain itself."

"Ugh," Blair groaned. "We are never going to get a team to and back from that mountain within the safety windows we have, much less *up* the mountain."

"Can we land a UAV there?" suggested Dr. Lee.

"No." The geologist shook his head. "One, I doubt the UAV can carry the load, and two, we need people to set up and calibrate the equipment."

"Helicopter," said Blair.

"What?" Dr. Lee and the geologist said, more or less in unison.

"Helicopter," Blair repeated. "I mean, they must have ones small enough to fit through the Stargate, right?"

Dr. Lee and the geologist looked at each other.

"Hi, guys," said Daniel as he walked into the lab. "Sorry I'm late. What's up?"

He blinked as the other three men turned as one to him.

"Helicopter," Jack said.

"Yes, sir." Dr. Lee shoved a sheaf of printouts at Jack. "We've got some models here that will fit through the Stargate, and are otherwise suitable for our purposes."

Jack glanced skeptically at the scientists and academics crowding his office, then flipped through the printouts. "Okay," he said. "These are all civilian makes, which means we have to pay for them somehow."

Blair, Dr. Lee and the geologist all looked lost.

"We can use the supplemental funds from the President," Daniel spoke up.

"I thought that was for the power reactor?" Jack frowned.

"Well, but we need naquadah to run the reactor, and this," Daniel gestured to the printouts in Jack's hand, "is for procuring naquadah."

Jack looked at Daniel. Daniel looked back at Jack.

"And you've got authorization to determine this is a related project?" Jack finally asked.

"No," Daniel said. "You do."

"Ah," Jack said. "Well. In that case..."

"Bill," Daniel turned to Dr. Lee, "get on the phone, call up the manufacturers and see who can deliver one the fastest. Oh, and buy two, so we have a backup. Dr. Olsen," he addressed the geologist, "have your team get together the observation equipment. Jack, you'll find us someone to pilot the 'copter?"

"Yes, sir. General, sir," Jack muttered.

Drs. Lee and Olsen ignored the exchange as they headed out to their assigned tasks. Daniel and Blair started to leave also, but Jack gestured them back.

"Daniel. Mr. Sandburg." Jack indicated they should sit.

The two glanced at each other, then slowly returned and seated themselves.

"So," Jack said once the two were settled. "This is going to take some time. I doubt the helicopter can be delivered today or tomorrow, and even if it could be, I'm not going to risk any teams anywhere near a potentially active volcano until the geology team has time for full observation and analysis. Which means," he looked sharply at Daniel and Blair, "SG-1 is free for another mission. Now, surely you can find something suitable on the mission roster?"

"I, er..." Daniel hesitated.

"Pick one, or I'll assign you one," Jack stated.

"I... No, we'll pick one," Daniel said.

"Good," Jack lowered his gaze to his desk in silent dismissal.

Slowly, first Blair, then Daniel rose from their seats and walked out of the office. Jack eyed their receding backs, and sighed.

Bullets ripped through the air and thudded into targets, their impact rattling the frames and reverberating through air and ground.

As Jim lowered the gun, Sam leaned eagerly forward to check the targets.

"Ten out of ten reds, and you hit one blue and nicked another one," she counted. "That's fabulous!"

"Indeed, the scores have much improved," Teal'c commented approvingly.

Jim scowled. "I'm still hitting about two out of every ten blues." He bent over his gun and started reloading.

"Oh, dear." Sam rolled her eyes. "Not going to be satisfied with anything less than perfect, are you?"

A twitch in his cheek was the only response Jim gave as he continued loading.

"Perhaps if you tried with Blair Sandburg's assistance," Teal'c suggested.

"He's not always going to be handy," Jim countered.

"That, I find hard to believe," said Sam. "I hardly ever see one of you without the other."

"He's not here now," Jim pointed out dryly.

"That's true," Sam admitted. Jim started to raise his gun again when Sam put out a hand to stop him. "How many rounds did you just shoot?" she asked.

"How many?" Jim thought about it. "I think about fifteen, sixteen. Why?"

"So aside from the ones that did hit the targets, there were a few that didn't hit anything? That went god knows where?"

"Yeah." Jim frowned down at Sam, wondering where she was going with this.

"But there are only ten red targets." Sam nodded at them. "If you want to be hitting only the red ones, shouldn't you be shooting just ten rounds?"

Jim's mouth dropped open, and Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"I..." Jim scratched his head. "You're right, of course, but I'm not sure..." He bent his finger lightly over the trigger and tilted his head, obviously replaying in his mind the mental and physical steps he went through when he shot at the targets.

"May I?" Sam asked.

"Sure." Jim handed her the weapon.

"Okay." Sam lifted the gun and took aim.

"No," said Jim.

"No?" asked Sam.

"No," Jim repeated. Looking at Sam to make sure she knew and consented to his intentions, he placed his hands on the wheelchair's handles and adjusted its position in relation to the targets. "Now," he said, "sit back as far as you can, and center your weight over your hips. Right." He waited as Sam wiggled into position, then reached out and shifted her shoulders for one last adjustment. "Okay. Now, brace your feet firmly on the footrest. Okay? Good. Now, raise your weapon... Wait, not like that." He reached out and placed Sam's arms into a satisfactory position. "Okay. Shoot!"

Sam tightened her finger on the trigger, and a volley of bullets flew out and all hit the center target dead on.

"Oh, wow!" Sam lowered the gun and grinned up at Jim. "Damn! That was amazing!"

"Pretty good," Jim grinned back, and Teal'c inclined his head in agreement. "Okay. Next, let's try..."

Teal'c stood by and watched as Jim worked with Sam. At one point, their eyes met over Sam's head, and Teal'c's knowing eyes locked with Jim's sky-blue ones for a second.

"So." Jim turned back to Sam. "How about getting out of that chair and trying a few other positions?"

"So, anything look good to you?" Daniel asked Blair as they walked down the hallway towards Daniel's office.

"Well..." Blair hesitated. "SG-11 says negotiations on Kassata is at a standstill. They recommend another team go in and have a try."

"What?" Daniel pulled up short. "But Blair, that's..."

"Daniel, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's all right," Blair said. "I can handle it."

Daniel stood still, absorbing Blair's words, then started moving down the hallway again. "Who said it's for you?" He shook his head. "Maybe I don't want to face that responsibility again -- yet."

Blair's eyes opened wide in surprise. "But Daniel..."

"What? What are you going to tell me? It wasn't my fault? I can't hide forever? Just try to do better next time?"

"Daniel..." Blair followed Daniel, speeding up his steps to keep up with the other man's longer strides. "Daniel, hiding doesn't make it better."

"Yeah?" Daniel turned on Blair. "So you just want us to jump right back into the thick of things?"

"I..." Blair swallowed hard. "I... This planet would have been nice," he admitted. "No people. Just mucking around the ruins, doing anthropology / archaeology type things."

"Yeah." Daniel smiled hollowly.

"Daniel," Blair said. "You're a great commander. That was the best-organized disaster relief operation I've taken part in, and I've been in a few."

"Yeah, but that's straightforward search and rescue." Daniel smiled self-deprecatingly. "No risk of people shooting at each other."

"If we don't do anything, the people on Kassata *will* start shooting each other," Blair said. "We can't make a difference unless we try."

"Yeah?" Daniel started walking again.

"Yes," Blair said, following along. "You know yesterday? That puppy Jim found?" Daniel nodded. "The General carried it around all over the base, as if finding it a home were the only thing he had to do at the moment. And you know what? It *was* the only thing he had to do at the moment. The General's like that."

"Yeah," Daniel sighed. "Yeah, that's Jack."

"And I was following him around, and I just... I just felt... If only I could *be* like that..."

Daniel stopped. "Yes," he said. "Yes, of course, you're right." He took a deep breath. "Okay, Kassata it is."

Jack listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, and raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he said. "Send him down." He put the phone back down, quirked his head at it, then turned his attention back to the paperwork.

A few minutes later, Pete entered the briefing room, escorted by a security guard. Halfway across the room, he paused and turned, his eyes glued to the Stargate. The guard was about to prompt Pete to proceed when Jack stepped out from his office, nodding at the guard.

Pete continued to gaze at the Stargate, seemingly unaware of the guard stepping away or of Jack's quiet approach. Jack slowly eased into Pete's field of vision, standing silently by until Pete finally looked at him.

"Hey," Jack said. "You came back."

"I..." Pete swallowed. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Not me you need to apologize to," Jack stated crisply.

Pete winced. "Yes, sir," he said. "I know that. I just..." He turned to the Stargate again. "I just..." He slowly walked up to the observation windows and pressed a hand against the glass. "I thought... Now that Sam wasn't going through the Stargate anymore, that maybe..." He sighed and dropped his hand, and turned back towards Jack. "But her heart is still here, isn't it? Even though she can't go through it anymore... This is still her life, and you're still her family. Not me."

"Oh," Jack said. "I wouldn't count on her not going through the Gate again. You should see what she's done with her chair!" He waved a hand in the air, as if that would give Pete an idea of the modifications Sam had made to the chair. "Given enough time..." He shrugged.

Pete snorted. "Sorry," he said. "I just had... this image of Sam... in a flying wheelchair..."

"A wheelchair with wings?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"Now, that would be a sight," Jack smiled.

Pete smiled back. "That would be... very Sam." He looked down, fidgeted a bit, then looked up again. "When I saw her with Teal'c this morning, I... I admit, at first I thought the worst. But when I calmed down... Of course, he's her friend, and... That's when..." He broke off, blinking hard.

Jack stood silently, waiting as the younger man struggled to get himself under control.

"She never..." Pete continued. "She never comes to me with that. It's you, and Teal'c, and Daniel..." He turned abruptly away to look at the Stargate again. "...and that."

Jack looked down at the floor, then raised his head again, and moved up to tap Pete's shoulder. "Come on," he said. "I think it's high time you and Carter had a talk."

Blair and Daniel strode down the mountain path side by side, the loose gravel crunching rhythmically under their feet. Turning the last corner to the firing range, their gazes were immediately drawn to Teal'c's broad back, then out into the range itself.

And just as Daniel was about to let out a surprised gasp at what he saw there, Teal'c turned, raising a hand to command silence.

Cautiously, afraid to even breathe lest he break the moment, Daniel crept forward, followed by an equally quiet Blair. Just as they reached Teal'c's side, Sam, standing on her two feet, aimed the gun and fired a volley, as Jim let his hands fall away from her elbows, removing the last token semblance of support.

Sam smiled in fierce satisfaction at the targets and lowered her gun, then noticed Daniel and Blair, standing there slack-jawed. Frowning as she wondered what had them so taken aback, she looked around, and suddenly realized that Jim was standing two steps away, his arms folded loosely in front of his chest.

"Wha..." Sam turned quickly in surprise, losing her balance with a jerk. Jim's hands immediately shot out to support her, and Daniel, as if released from the spell rooting him to the spot, rushed forward, then stopped again a few steps away from Jim and Sam.

"Hi, Daniel," Sam greeted, still clinging to Jim for balance.

"You... you... you're standing!" Daniel blurted.

"Ah... Not very well at the moment, but seems that way, doesn't it?" Sam laughed.

"Okay, Colonel. Take a deep breath. Let's see if we can do that again, shall we?" said Jim. "There..." He took the gun from Sam and placed it on the ground, then patiently tapped and rubbed and prodded Sam's body until she was balanced on her feet again. "Okay, now..." He shot a glance at Daniel, signaling him to get ready. "I'm going to let you go," he said to Sam, "and you're going to walk to Daniel, okay?" Sam nodded. "Okay." Jim let go.

For an interminable moment, Sam balanced on both feet. Then she took a deep breath, and picking up a foot, moved it forward. She put the foot down, struggled to gain her balance, then determinedly picked up the other foot -- and toppled forward into Daniel's arms.

"Oh, my god. Sam," Daniel whispered, holding Sam tight. "Sam."

Sam hugged back, tears streaming down her face as she laughed.

Daniel turned big wide eyes to Jim, who folded his arms and stepped back, smiling quietly. Blair came running up then, followed more sedately by Teal'c.

"Hey!" Blair slapped Jim on the arm. "That's something!" He laughed happily up at Jim. "I always thought sentinels would make great physical therapists!"

Jim shook his head indulgently, and bent to pick up the forgotten machine gun from the ground. Exchanging quiet acknowledging nods with Teal'c, he began walking away as Teal'c reached in to hug Sam. Since Daniel wouldn't quite let Sam go, the three of them ended up in a weird tangle of arms and bodies, Sam laughing and crying, Daniel grinning like mad and blinking hard, and Teal'c standing solid and steady in the middle of it all.

Blair watched the celebration a moment longer, then followed after Jim at a half-run. "Hey, Jim!" he yelled. "Yo! Wait up!"

Jim stopped, eyes gazing into the far distance. "Hey, Chief?" he said when Blair pulled up next to him.

"Yeah?"

"You know, maybe we should take Ferretti up on that offer to go fishing the next time SG-1 and 2 have downtime together."

Blair's eyes widened as he looked up into Jim's face. "Jim..."

Jim turned, finally looking Blair in the eye. "It's time we got out of the mountain. Right?"

"Yeah," Blair swallowed hard. "Yeah, Jim. It is."

Suddenly, Jim turned his head sharply, his whole body coming to attention, then relaxed almost immediately. "O'Neill," he said. "And there's another guy with him."

They stood side by side, waiting until Jack and Pete came into sight.

"Ellison. Mr. Sandburg," Jack called out. "You haven't met Pete Shanahan, have you?"

"Hi," Pete said. "I've heard about you two. From Sam."

Jim and Blair looked at each other, then Jim moved to shake hands with Pete. As Pete finished exchanging pleasantries with Blair, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c came down the path, Sam rolling along in her chair, Daniel and Teal'c walking alongside.

"Jack!" Daniel ran forward as soon as he saw Jack. "Jack! Sam walked!"

"No, I didn't," Sam laughed as she speeded up her chair to catch up to Daniel.

"You did!" Daniel insisted. "You took a step! Everyone saw it, right? Oh..." He finally noticed Pete. "Hi, Pete."

Pete mumbled a greeting.

Sam stopped her chair and looked at Pete.

An uneasy silence descended over the group, as no one seemed to know quite what to say.

"So, ahem." Jack cleared his throat. "What's this about you walking?"

"Really, sir," Sam smiled. "Daniel's exaggerating. It was just a step. Barely."

"Ah." Jack put up a finger. "One small step, Carter."

Sam blinked, then smiled even more brightly. "Yes, sir."

"Okay." Jack waved his hands in a herding motion. "We'll scat." The members of SG-1 obediently waved or nodded good-byes at Sam and started down the path. "Shanahan, return her before dark, you hear?"

"Yes, sir." Pete agreed.

"Good man." Jack looked straight at Pete. "Take care of yourself."

Pete nodded.

Jack turned and strode away to catch up with SG-1, leaving Pete and Sam side by side, silently watching the departing group.

"So," Jack said, as he came up alongside Daniel. "Decided where you're going on your next mission?"

"What next mission?" asked Jim.

"Oh, we were coming to tell you that," Daniel said. "We're going to Kassata."

"Kassata," Jack said.

"Yes, Jack. Kassata."

Jack thought about that for a moment. "How come I always get hungry when I hear that name?" he finally asked.

"Well, there's an Italian dessert called cassata."

"Oh, that'll explain it." Jack nodded. "So, do they serve pizza and ravioli, too?"

Daniel rolled his eyes, Teal'c's face shone with serene amusement, Blair guffawed, and Jim shook his head.

"Hey! Let's go out to that new Italian place tonight. My treat," Jack said.

The group came to a halt as all eyes turned to Jim.

"Yes, sir." Jim smiled. "That'd be great."

Jack slapped Jim on the shoulder, and the group continued down the path. Their mingled voices echoed through the air, floating up to the lone bird soaring high above.