'Have you ever gotten antsy?

No, I don't mean "I can't sit through any more of this meeting; it's sooo dull"--I mean...antsy. Really antsy, like...when your pants are beyond itchy, your knees start to jerk only seconds after you sit down, your mind races. You want--no, you need to do something, know you have to do something...but you don't know what that 'something' is. You pace from your bedroom to the front door and back again, you open the fridge, all your cupboards, looking in them but not really seeing anything, picking things up here and there as if you're driven to find something you've lost--a set of keys, a ring, even a favourite pen, for God's sake.

I'm talking antsy like, scary antsy. When you have no idea what you're supposed to do with yourself, and before you know it, you're on a plane to God knows where. Okay. So maybe most people don't get'

Jack closed the leather-bound journal with a sigh and packed it into the storage container with its brethren. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for him to be reading Daniel's personal journals, but this one had fallen open as he pulled it off the shelf, and it had only been one and a half paragraphs; it was mostly jumbled thoughts, probably written down in the heat of some moment, some thought that Daniel had just had to scribble down for future reference. Probably during some mission, waiting for a delegation to meet with him, maybe lying awake in the tent, waiting for his watch, or even on watch, writing instead of keeping his two eyes wide open on his surroundings, as had sometimes been the case. Or maybe, Jack mused, alluding back to the first sentence of that first long paragraph he'd just read, Daniel had been sitting in a briefing, waiting for General Hammond to finish doling out SG-1's latest assignment, or--and Jack grinned a little at the thought--he'd been waiting for Carter to finish jabbering about her latest find, her latest experiment. It wouldn't exactly be a far-fetched guess, right?

"Colonel?" Speak of the devil. The footsteps coming down the hall alerted Jack to Carter's approach from the living room, where she and Teal'c had been taking inventory of Daniel's belongings, getting everything they could packed into the little U-Haul the trio had rented, Jack's truck, Ferretti's jeep, and Siler's station wagon.

Yup. Station wagon.

It had a pretty big trunk, though.

"In here, Carter." Jack snapped the storage container shut, slapped a sticker-ish label on the top and haphazardly scribbled "Journals and Junk" on it with a Sharpie before sliding it across the floor of the poor excuse for a bedroom and rising from the even poorer excuse for a bed that Daniel had stuffed into it. Carter appeared in the doorway an instant later, her eyes immediately finding the small pile of cases on the floor, sniffing disdainfully as she read Jack's hurried labels.

"Sir, I doubt he'll appreciate that," she chastised. "If we don't catalogue these things perfectly, he's going to--"

"Carter, he won't even see this stuff for at least twenty years! Lay off, will ya? Besides, when I'm through with him, he won't care one way or the other how his rocks are labeled."

Carter gave him a slightly condescending smile. "Still bent on making him a pro hockey player, sir?"

"The future of the NHL is going to need skilled goaltenders and centermen; the entire organization is going down the drain from these pathetic excuses for puckstoppers already," Jack reiterated his standpoint--loudly, "and the kids they're bringing up wouldn't know how to center a line if their names were Symmetry."

"We know, Jack," Lou Ferretti called resignedly as he poked his head around the corner, trash can in hand--obviously bypassing the bathroom in order to share that wonderful boon of knowledge.

"I don't think you'll ever convince Daniel to do anything other than what he's had his heart set on doing his entire life," Carter informed Jack sympathetically.

"Ditto," Ferretti's muffled voice called from down the hall.

"Get back to work, Major," Jack ordered, then turned his most charming smile on Carter. "C'mon, Carter--you've seen Daniel on those rollerblades I bought him! When he was...normal, he couldn't skate to save his life! Now it's like he was born to play! If he's around the game enough, and if we all support him enough--"

"Careful sir; you're getting stars in your eyes."

Jack shrugged. "All I'm saying is that Minnesota is going to need some top young talent when their vets are ready to be euthanized. You don't know talent when you see it," he complained when Carter only nodded placatingly along with his declaration.

"I know, sir, and it kills me a little more inside every single day." Carter glanced down at her watch and gasped. "Oh God--it's almost five. Sir, I'm sorry to do this to you, but I have to go."

"What; are you kidding me? Have you seen how much stuff Daniel had?! You can't just abandon me!"

"You've got half the SGC here!" was his only reply as Carter breezed out of the room. "Teal'c!"

Jack followed her out, his jaw dropping when he found Teal'c already lowering his side of the couch, leaving Siler to fend for himself, the hapless tech's knees wobbling as he struggled, wheezing, to keep the load from crashing to the floor. "T, where ya--"

"I shall return, O'Neill. I believe SergeantSiler requires assistance."

"Teal'c! Carter, get back--"

"Colonel--please--take the--it's not--"

"Oh for--" Jack rushed across the room and helped Siler lower the couch back to the floor, ignoring the way the sergeant puddled to the floor with relief. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Sam's got a booooyyyfriiieeeennnnd," Ferretti sang, returning with the bathroom supplies in a jumbo-sized Ziploc bag.

Jack did a double-take. "She's what?"

"Major Carter's been seeing someone." Walter Harriman appeared in the doorway and tossed Siler a set of car keys. "If you try to pack anything else in there, the entire bottom will be scraping the asphalt from here to the SGC."

Siler caught the keys one-handed. "Bessie can take it," he announced proudly.

"Walter," Jack growled. "Carter sees lots of people--me, you, Siler, Deb in the commissary...jack-of-all-trades Stan and Jerry the garbageman..." He winced and trailed off, discovering not one Trooper fan among the gathering, and instead spun to gape at Siler as...something...slipped into his consciousness. "Bessie?"

Siler gave him a 'what?' shrug. Walter tried to sneak back out the door, and Jack rounded on him. "Walter," he begged, "you've always got at least one foot in the rumour mill, right? What the hell is going on with Carter?"

Harriman shrugged. "All I know is that she's seeing someone--a police officer, I think. You keep telling your car that when you find yourself Flintstone-ing it back to the mountain," he told Siler.

"Walter!"

Harriman shrugged. "Sorry Colonel; I think you're going to have to ask Major Carter for yourself."

"Aagghh." Jack hung his head, defeated. "Why am I always the only one out of the loop?" he whined.

Everyone around him seemed to exchange furtive glances, and as Jack's gaze fell on Ferretti again, his old friend held out the Ziploc bag he was holding with a half shrug and an innocent grin. "Toothpaste?"

=====

"Honey, I'm in your home!" Jack squeezed through smallest opening possible in the door as Jack The Dog leaped up to meet him, yapping shrilly, the old mutt's entire rear end waggling with his tail. "Daniel? Cass?"

"Jaaaack!" There was the clatter of movement from upstairs, running footsteps above him, then a pause...before careful, heavy footfalls thumped down the stairs. The running started up again as Daniel zoomed into the foyer, slip-siding on the hardwood floor with his sock-clad feet. Jack crouched to meet him, and immediately got a clinging, wriggling little armfull of five-year-old. Daniel hugged him tight around the neck, and then slithered around him to take advantage of Jack's momentary lack of height, half-climbing Jack's back, digging his fingertips into Jack's shoulderblades. "Piggy-back!" he hollered--right in Jack's poor, abused ear, no less.

"Ouch. Okay, okay--hang on--ouch. Daniel, don't pull--I need my arms, kiddo." Gritting his teeth against the determinedly grinding, pointy little fingers as well as heels knocking him in various sensitive portions of his anatomy as Daniel decided to fling his legs around Jack's waist, Jack finally managed to get him up, as Daniel had demanded, piggy-back style, hanging from Jack's back. "There. Satisfied?"

Daniel clasped his hands under Jack's chin and slumped, momentarily cutting off Jack's air supply until he was hefted up to a higher position. Comfortable, Daniel pressed his cheek against Jack's shoulder. "Yup. Where were you?"

"I...told you at breakfast; I had to go help Sergeant Siler, Major Ferretti, Sam, Teal'c, Walter, Colonel Reynolds, Major Harper, Major Davis--" (who had been lured from his liaison assignment to help--which he had accepted without question when he'd been told it was for Daniel's sake)--"Lieutenant Freeman, Captain Rochefort, Lieutenant Lampinen..." Jack named off everyone who had been involved in the day's packing escapades, knowing Daniel wouldn't rest until he knew exactly who had been with him. "They all needed help...moving."

"Movin' where?" Daniel bounced a little against Jack's back as Jack maneuvered them through Fraiser's house in search of Cassie. "Go fast, Jack!"

"Not in the house," he reminded. "We had to help...Captain Rochefort move. Into a new house." Jack silently reminded himself to remind Captain Rochefort that he'd moved.

"Oh. Where'd he move to?"

"Um, he bought a nice new house in Cimarron Hills." 'Not bad, O'Neill.' "Hey, Cassie?" he called.

"She's in the shower. C'n we go visit him someday?" Daniel wanted to know.

"Danny, you don't even know Captain Rochefort. Did she leave you alone while she was in the shower?"

"Noooooo; I was talkin' to Dom'nic. And I seed him before!" he added indignantly.

"'Saw', not 'seed'. Who did you see? Dominic or Captain Rochefort? And why did Cassie leave you to talk to Dominic when she was in the showe--wait a minute. Dominic is here?" Jack demanded sharply.

"Um..." Jack could sense Daniel's confusion, and realized he'd loaded one too many questions on the little guy. "I see--sawed Cap'nRushfert," Daniel finally answered, settling for answering the first.

"Oh...I see. Now, tell me something, my little eyes behind the scenes, is Dominic here?"

"Noooo--he's on the phone!"

Jack breathed a silent sigh of relief. Something about the thought of some rampant teenaged boy in the house when Cassie--a rampant teenaged girl, and his adopted niece, no less-- was home alone made his hackles stand on end. "Okay. Let's go find Cassie, shall we?"

"Jaaack, we can't go in! She's in the shower!"

"Not anymore," a familiar young female voice called from upstairs. "Uncle Jack, you raise enough racket to bring the SEALS running!"

"We're Air Force, young lady," Jack retorted, pretending to be affronted. "We don't run like those uncivilized folk; we fly--very stealthily, I might add. Now where's your mother?"

"Give me a minute to get changed and say goodbye to Dominic," Cassie yelled back. "I'm not going to shout back and forth!"

Jack's eyebrows shot up, and he turned his head to meet Daniel's eyes as much as possible. "Woman after her own mother's heart, that one," he whispered.

Daniel giggled. "Napoleen."

Jack grinned. "Exactly right. Little Napoleons, the pair of them. Now...is there food anywhere in this place?"

"Ice cream in the kitchen!" Daniel chirped. "Go, horsie!"

"Yes sir!" Jack the Horse, with Jack the Dog at his heels, 'galloped' toward the kitchen--for his own benefit as much as Daniel's, of course.

=====

"Go ahead; help yourselves."

Jack and Daniel exchanged guilty glances as Cassie came into the kitchen barefoot, wearing a denim skirt and salmon-coloured shirt with three-quarter length sleeves. "You could've at least gotten me some too," she said grumpily, reaching up for a bowl and shaking the excess hot water out of the scoop, which Jack had rinsed and tossed unceremoniously into the sink. Jack wordlessly pushed the carton toward her, where she looked in--then back at him with a baleful glare. "Ice cream hogs."

"There's enough there for you!" Jack retorted. "Danny was going to eat it all, but I made him let you have some."

"Uh-uh!" Daniel cried around a mouthful of ice cream. "Jack wanted alluvit!"

"Traitor," Jack hissed. "So how's Dominic?" he asked casually. Cassie glanced at him.

"He's fine, Uncle Jack. And no, he still doesn't have any tattoos or piercings, he still doesn't do drugs or drink, and he still drives like an old grandma, ten and two."

"Excellent." Jack scooped out the last of his ice cream and eyed Daniel's, who pulled it back toward his chest protectively. "Any other news on the happy couples-front? Not necessarily you and Dominic, but...your mother? Carter...?"

Cassie grinned in realization. "I'm not your inside source, Jack."

"Come on, Cassie!" Jack whined. "Please! Carter abandoned us to pack--help Rochefort move," he rephrased carefully, "on our own! Everyone is keeping secrets from me!"

"Poor baby," she teased, then shook her head firmly. "No way."

Jack met her stare for stare, pointedly scooping up much more ice cream than the spoon could hold, threatening to spill it. "Goo-goo. Ga-ga," he said flatly.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "You're so weird, Uncle Jack." Daniel giggled, and she gave his hair a fond ruffle as she passed--amazing Jack once again at how relatively easily the teen had taken to Daniel's resizing. She shook her head firmly. "Sorry," she said cheerfully and so unregretfully. "I promised Sam I wouldn't say anything--and, wanting the laptop she promised me for school, I won't."

"Well someone obviously said something! They all know about it!" Through his dramatic despair inspiration struck, and Jack slowly turned to Daniel. "Hold the phone, Mabel...do you know about it?" he asked. Daniel's spoon froze halfway to his mouth and wide blue eyes regarded Jack with a mixture of trepidation and confusion.

"Whaa'?"

So much for that theory. Jack tousled Daniel's hair. "Never mind, kiddo. Cassandra Marie Fraiser--"

"That's not even my name, Uncle Jack."

"Not the point. You know something. I know you know something--so spill!"

Cassie narrowed her eyes at him. "What's in it for me?"

"A--uh--how about...shopping spree?" Jack suggested weakly. Appealing to the feminine side of the woman's psyche always--or often, anyway--worked with Sara...

Apparently it worked like a charm on teenaged girls, too, because Cassie's eyebrows flew to her hairline and she clasped her hands in front of her, businesslike. "How big a shopping spree are we talking about here?"

"Ten for every useful piece of information?"

Cassie made a face. "Nothin' doin'."

"Thirty?"

"Now we're talking."

"Not yet we're not! Spill, young lady!"

Instead, Cassie took a healthy scoop of ice cream and savoured it--slowly--before carefully replacing her spoon in the bowl and returning her attention to Jack. "Pete."

"Pete. Okay, Pete...Pete who? Pete what? Pete where?"

"Pete how?" Daniel mimicked brightly. Jack glowered at him and stole a scoop of his ice cream.

"Jaaack!"

"Pete Shanahan," Cassie said reluctantly, her mind clearly on the prize awaiting her. "Sixty," she reminded him.

"A name counts as one piece of information."

"Two names, two pieces of information. You can't find someone without a last name."

"Fine, sixty!" Jack barked. "Continue."

"He's a cop...I think he's from Denver or something like that. Sam's brother Mark set them up; suggested they'd be good for one another. That's all I know, I swear." She mentally did the math. "One-fifty, Uncle Jack. Pay up."

"That's not exactly a lot of information," Jack protested.

Daniel gasped. "Don' lie, Jack!" he yelled. "You said you'd give Cassie money! You can't lie!"

"Yeah, Uncle Jack," Cassie agreed solemnly. "You can't lie." She held out a hand expectantly.

"Oh for--here."

Cassie gave him a completely 'Sesame Street'-sweet smile. "Uncle Jack, you're the greatest."

"Yeah yeah."

=====

"Colonel, Major Carter is on level 22."

Pen poised over the level 11 sign-in sheet upon which he'd just signed his name with a flourish, Jack looked up to find Walter's head poking out of the elevator, the sergeant pointedly holding it open for him. Early Monday morning, and the little sergeant was already on the ball--Jack was impressed, and didn't even deny it. Jack slid his gaze between the airman standing at rapt attention behind the desk and back to Walter before his feet followed his eyes and he joined the tech in the car. "And why, Walter, would I need to know where Carter is?" he asked pleasantly.

The sergeant scoffed lightly. "Uh, with all due respect, sir, you obviously haven't given up on your...quest."

Jack frowned. "Quest for what?"

"Finding out who Major Carter's new 'friend' is...?" Walter clued him. "So...she's on level 22." Jack glanced down at the display of buttons, discovering that level 22 was already lit up. Walter. The wily little...

"Walter, you're an evil little man," he said approvingly.

"Yes sir." At level 13, the elevator slid open and Walter stepped out. "I'll...wait for the next one. Good luck, sir."

Jack's eyebrows quirked upward. "Thank you, Walter," he said sotto voce.

---

The doors slid open on level 22 and, as Walter had predicted, Carter stood there, coffee mug in hand, waiting. As the elevator opened, she looked up, took one step, and paused in surprise, shooting a look over her shoulder as if expecting someone to jump out claiming she was on 'Candid Camera'. "Colonel."

Jack gave her an absent nod, playing it cool and nonchalant. "Carter."

Carter hesitated another moment, and Jack had to slap one hand against the doors to keep them open. "You comin', or what?"

"Oh, right! Sorry sir." She took a quick step inside and Jack, immensely pleased with himself, let the doors slide shut. He wondered how it was best to bring it up...he couldn't be too obvious about knowing her little secret, or she'd be onto him like a fly on shit. He couldn't play it too dumb, though, because she knew he suspected something after her abrupt exit from packing Daniel's things, and she never really fell for his stupid act anyway. Most of the ti--

Jack's train of thought and the issues he had with how to broach the subject derailed themselves as he took notice of a quiet sound drifting up to him from the left. The wheels in Jack's head ground to a dead stop, and his head jerked toward Carter. She didn't notice his look, though. She just kept...'What the hell?'...was she...?

She was.

Carter was humming.

Jack bit down on a grin. "Humming?" he asked bemusedly.

Carter jumped. "I am?"

"You are."

Obviously embarrassed, Carter's "Sorry" was abrupt--flustered and tense. They stood in awkward silence for a few long moments, Jack keeping his silence more for the fact that he knew he'd burst out laughing if he opened his mouth, and Carter...well, he couldn't read minds, could he? "What's his name?" Jack finally asked when his throat stopped constricting on him.

He could hear Carter's eyeroll in her voice as she half-turned to him. "Now why would--"

"Humming," Jack pointed out innocently. He kept his eyes mostly forward, daring a sidelong glance at Carter, who was obviously trying to discern what he found so interesting about the elevator door by gawking him to death. "Pete," she finally caved, turning away defiantly.

"Pete," Jack echoed sagely.

"Pete Shanahan; he's a cop," Carter informed him proudly.

Jack 'hmmed' softly. "Speeding again, are we?"

"He's from Denver," Carter explained. "He's a friend of my brother's."

'Gotcha now, Carter...and thank you, Cassie!' "A setup?"

"Pathetic, I know."

Jack tried to keep triumph from his voice...and suspected he failed miserably. "No, it's great."

"Really?"

"Isn't it?" Guileless. Perfect.

Carter took on an 'aw, shucks' quality. "Well, it's not serious or anything," she mumbled. Jack gave her a nearly imperceptible nudge.

"And yet...it is...hum-worthy."

'Uh-oh; played it up a little too light there. She's onto you.' "Sir-�"

"Carter, it's none of my business. I'm just happy that you're happy about something other then..." He physically reached out as he tried wracking his astronomy-dork brain for something impressive. "...quarks."

That got her. Carter gave him a sidelong look, and Jack couldn't help but congratulate himself on his quick thinking. "Not bad with the quarks, huh?" he preened.

Carter nodded, shoulders shaking minutely with a chuckle. "Excellent."

With the information straight from the horse's mouth, Jack had no idea what else to talk about. It wasn't like they could sit down over tea and talk relationships. Another awkward pause stretched between them, and Jack cleared his throat. "Bit uncomfortable, isn't it?"

"Yeah, a bit."

The elevator stopped on level 26 and Jack took his chances, stepping out. "Good luck."

As the doors rolled shut behind him, he heard Carter's surprised voice following him with a "Thank you, sir."

'Nice.' Jack looked up and down the corridors and sighed, turning back to the elevator. Quarters and storage. He had to pick the most useless, conspicuous level to jump ship, didn't he?

He was definitely losing his covert touch.

=====
=====

Jack grunted as he pushed the last box filled with Daniel's stuff into the back of his truck and leaned around the vehicle when he heard approaching footsteps and saw two shadows approaching in the light provided by the beaming streetlights. Both eyebrows rose expectantly as Carter--looking rather perturbed--stalked up to meet him with a conspicuosly unknown man, square-jawed and friendly looking with dark blond hair, right on her heels. "Carter," he greeted, trying for casually surprised while he knew he had a smug smile a mile wide on his face. "Who's your friend?"

"Sir." Mmm, nice. Cold with just a dash of "Don't play dumb". His favourite Carter tone. "This is Pete."

Taking his cue, Carter's beau grinned and stretched out his hand. Jack accepted it and nearly had his arm shaken off. "Pete!" he greeted, and decided to torture Carter just a little. "Pete..."

"Shanahan," the other guy supplied. "Nice to meet you Jack--Colonel. Colonel O'Neill. Nice to meet you. I've heard--actually, I've heard absolutely nothing about you." He nudged Carter with a laugh.

Jack beamed at Carter. "Why, Carter, I'm hurt. I've heard a bit about you, Pete; I knew something or someone had Carter smitten."

Carter muttered something mutinous; something that sounded a lot like "Blow it out your ass, sir."

Pete just looked happy. "Sam doesn't really say a lot about where she works," he said, as though Jack would have no idea. "National security and all that." Pete grinned at Sam, who blushed--honest to God blushed. Jack had previously thought it anatomically impossible--unshakable Samantha Carter, knocked off balance by a boy? Jack grinned wider, feeling the nearly overwhelming urge to dance around singing "Carter and Pete, sittin' in a tree..." and got a more intense death glare from his 2IC as if she could read his mind.

"Yeah well," he said instead, if somewhat uncreatively, "you know how it goes. All that military crap."

Pete chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so." He gestured to the truck and the boxes loaded inside. "You moving?"

"Nah." Jack waved a dismissive hand at the boxes and casually shut the passenger side back door. "One of our," he gestured between himself and Carter, "friends has taken a leave of absence, a sabbatical. He doesn't know how long he's going to be gone, so a few of us on base are providing storage for his stuff."

Pete nodded amiably, but Jack could practically see the 'detective wheels' turning in his head--"Exhibit A--taking stuff for storage after sundown." Of course, that analogy wouldn't work, because Pete was a cop, not a prosecutor. Jack glanced at Carter, silently projecting the question, "This guy going to be a problem?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head minutely. "So you have things all under control here, sir?" she asked. "Cassie told me there were a few boxes left here to pick up." Read: Cassie didn't tell her Jack was going to be there, hence thinking it was safe to bring ol' Pete along.

Still playing innocent bystander, Jack nodded sagely. "Yeah. My plans were put off for a few hours, so I swung by to get the last of it." Read: 'The Simpsons' was pre-empted in favour of a Presidential address and Daniel had been secreted away to Fraiser's just after Carter had left. That Cassandra was a crafty one.

"Okay," Carter said quickly. "We'll be off, then. Coming, Pete?"

"Yeah. Hey, Colonel; again, nice meeting you."

Jack inclined his head with a daffy smile. "Back atcha. I--" He trailed off abruptly at the look on Carter's face. "Carter?"

"Sir, what..." She moved past him and toward Daniel's house, giving Pete an unconscious push backwards. Jack followed her progress, his own eyes widening in surprise at the unmistakable silhouette of a human figure in one of the home's windows, rapidly fading with the bright light that accompanied it. A few moments later, a loud thump sounded from the room. Jack and Carter exchanged a tense look and any attempt Carter made at sounding calm vanished when she warned Pete, "I'll be there in a minute, Pete; we just have to check this out."

But Pete entered full Barney Miller mode and bounded up to their side. "No way am I letting this go without checking it out," he said flatly. "I may not be Colorado Springs PD, but I know a break and enter when I see it."

Carter rounded on him--for good reason, because someone who appeared in Daniel's former bedroom in a flash of light after dark didn't strike Jack as a common B&E. "Pete, seriously, wait here. There are things..."

"What, Sam? 'Things' what? That deep space telemetry doesn't cover?"

'Uh-oh.' So much for Pete not causing a problem. "Stay the hell back, Shanahan!" Jack ordered. He leaned into the truck and retrieved his hidden sidearm, tucking it into the back of his jeans before sending the cop a warning glare. "Carter."

"On it." She was, too; directly on his heels, unarmed as she was, as Jack silently led the way up into the house.

Inside the alien territory of Daniel's dark, barren former home, Jack gestured Carter around the living room as a preliminary scout. He kept himself at the entrance of the small hallway leading to Daniel's bathroom and then in the sharp right angle turn to the bedroom. When Carter gave him the all-clear from the living room, Jack navigated the narrow maze of hallway to the bedroom door. As he moved in, still slow and silent, he heard quiet dissonant muttering, and another loud thump.

When he was close enough to the door to make out who was inside the bedroom, his heart seized in his chest. Even in the dim light provided by the streetlights through the closed blinds, Jack made out the slim frame of a human being, the frizzy hair that he'd seen in a few pictures Daniel had shown him years ago. The inhuman snarl of anger that swept him was entirely enough to confirm his suspicions.

Osiris was there.

---

Sam shuddered as she heard Osiris' enraged roar, and she left her position, intending to go to the Colonel's aid, but a tight grip on her wrist stopped her. "Pete!" she hissed angrily. "I told you--"

"Like it or not, Sam, I do know a thing or two about stuff like this."

"Not like this," Sam muttered back. "Give me your sidearm."

"Are you--what?"

"Give it to me, Pete, or the Colonel's in big trouble."

"Son of a bitch!"Sam turned her attention to the right, where the Colonel's tight, pain-filled voice reached her ears.

"Damn it," she swore. "Too late."

---

"Where is Daniel Jackson?" Osiris demanded. Jack tried to wrestle the Goa'uld's grip from his wrist, certain that creaking he could feel wasn't normal. "Tell me where to find him!"

"He's...gone," he grunted through gritted teeth. A silent hiss of pain escaped him as Osiris' grip on his wrist tightened further, and his nerveless fingers dropped his sidearm, which fell with a dull, echoing thump on the carpeted bedroom floor.

"I do not believe you," the Goa'uld purred. "I am fully aware of Daniel Jackson's return, and that he has been back on your world for quite some time. My host's...affection for him was quite enough to lead me back, and the tantalizing tidbit about this Ancient city was quite a stroke of luck."

Despite himself, Jack's curiosity got the better of him. "How...?" he began to ask, before it hit him--Anubis. When their runaround to stop Anubis from using his uber-weapon was all said and done, Anubis had been left with quite the wealth of information about the Lost City, Daniel...and Osiris, as an eager beaver lieutenant, would definitely find the information too much to resist. "Son of a bitch," he growled. Osiris smirked...and brought his ignited ribbon device to bear.

---

"What the hell...?" Pete managed. Sam shoved him backwards and seized his sidearm. Just inside Daniel's bedroom, Osiris had the colonel under the influence of a ribbon device. Knowing how very few precious seconds one of the devices needed to inflict serious damage on a victim, Sam took aim and fired.

The bullet from the sidearm bounced harmlessly off the Goa'uld's personal defense shield, but Osiris' attention was drawn from the colonel, releasing him from the bright, heated glow. O'Neill dropped like a stone to the floor and didn't move, and while Sam wanted to go over and make sure he was all right, her own self-preservation had her moving from the bedroom. She heard Osiris' footfalls behind her. "Go Pete, go!" she shouted.

"Insolence!" Osiris roared.

As she and Pete sought out a strategic point in the small, bungalow-style house, Sam couldn't help but reflect on how not surprised she found herself at the Goa'uld's angry shout. 'Broken record, much?' Even the galactic threat having found itself in her own back yard, Sam was having a hard time being any more intimidated than usual. It was Pete she was worried about.

"What the hell is she?!" Pete shouted.

"Very long story, Pete!" Sam whirled on Osiris, knowing she couldn't allow the Goa'uld to escape. If she'd come for Daniel and she and the colonel were both out of commission--perhaps permanently--no one else would know for sure what was going on, and that would put Daniel at even more of a risk. She was not willing to let that happen. A cruel, cold smile twisted Sarah Gardner's face and Sam squeezed the trigger of Pete's sidearm repeatedly. Again, the bullets were harmlessly deflected.

"Fools," Osiris sneered. "You will die."

"I don't think so."

Sam's eyes widened as Pete landed a hard blow to Osiris' back with...'What the hell?'...the left-behind fireplace poker. The Goa'uld howled in rage and pain, and when he whirled on Pete, Sam squeezed off another shot, catching him high in the shoulder.

Not to go down without a fight, Osiris reached for the device on his wrist. Instinctively Sam knew what it was, given the flash that had accompanied the Goa'uld's entrance. "Pete, hang on!" she shouted, and lunged--just as familiar bright light engulfed all of them.

=====
=====

"Uncle Jack?"

Jack groaned and rolled his head painfully on the hard surface beneath him. Floor? How'd he gotten there? 'Don't tell me I fell out of bed...Jesus, I'll never live this down'...and why was Cassie in his house in the middle of the night? Her voice sounded strained and far away, but it was unmistakably Cassie. "Oh my God; Uncle Jack!"

It was Cassie all right. Sounding very worried, to boot. Jack forced his heavy eyelids open and ignored the twirly ribbons of light dancing on the inside and outside of his eyelids, the persistent throbbing in his forehead, and...well, just about all around and inside his head, actually. "Cassie?" he croaked.

A soft, cool hand tentatively rested on his cheek, and in the dim light Jack could make out Cassandra's terrified face. "'Sokay," he tried to reassure her--though, the way his brains were scrambled, he had no idea if he was right or not.

"No, you're not," Cassie said fearfully. "Where's your cell phone, Uncle Jack? N-never mind; mine's...mine's in the car. Oh God...Daniel..."

'Daniel?' A flash of something crested just beneath Jack's consciousness and he grabbed for it. "Where is Daniel Jackson? Tell me!" "Daniel!"

Cassie's hand pressed him flat again. "No Uncle Jack, stay there--where's Sam? Her car's still out front."

"Daniel; where's Daniel?" 'Carter and Pete, Carter and Pete, Carter and Pete.' His head throbbed in a cadence with the names, names that for the moment meant nothing to him unless Daniel was still safe, still free of that Goa'uld...the Goa'uld whose face Jack had seen before, whose host Daniel had told him about--Sarah. Sarah Gardner. 'Osiris.' "Cassie, where's Daniel?"

"He-he's in the car, Uncle Jack. He's asleep. You didn't come back for him, you and Sam weren't answering your cell phones, SG-8 came back from a mission in bad shape so mom was too busy to come to the phone, so I took Daniel with me to come and find you."

"Bring him here, Cassie--don't leave him alone; bring him inside." He couldn't let that Goa'uld get her hands on Daniel; buried memories, erased memories or no, Jack didn't doubt that Osiris would do serious damage to any version of Daniel she--he?--could get his Goa'uld-y mitts on.

Obviously confused, Cassie started to her feet. "O-okay Uncle Jack; I'll go get him and call the mountain--"

"Forget the mountain for now, Cass; just bring Daniel here and then I need you to find Carter and Pete." They were in the house; they'd been in the house when Osiris had been frying his brain. "Where the hell did a Goa'uld get Asgard beaming technology?" That was definitely Carter's influence in his head, all right. No one else would have noticed it. Jack could vaguely remember Carter in the doorway, firing a gun--where'd she gotten a gun, anyway?--and Pete's gaping expression through the burning, frying, throbbing ache of the ribbon device. Had Osiris gotten to them? Were they still alive? "Go, Cass. Get Daniel." Jack ignored her bleat of protest as he levered himself to a sitting position, cradling his head in his hands. Scrambled brains or no, there was no way he was going to let Daniel wake up and find him flat on his back, barely conscious. Without seeing, he was aware of Cassie's footsteps hurrying back outside, heard the faint sound of a car door opening, and he could almost imagine that in the silence of the night he was at home, in bed, listening to the activity of his neighbours going about their business. It seemed like a few seconds--he must have passed out for a minute--but then Cassie was beside him again, carrying a still-sleeping Daniel in her arms. Jack reached up for him, needing to feel the warm, living weight of a safe and sound Daniel for himself. Cassie wordlessly handed him over, and Jack cradled him close, Daniel snuggling, even in sleep, as close as he could, face finding the side of Jack's neck and his hands curling between their chests. Jack sighed in relief. "Uncle Jack?" Cassie asked hesitantly.

Right. Carter and Pete. They'd been...where? Where had they gone? "Carter and Pete are...in here...somewhere, Cass. I'd get up and find them myself, but..." he grimaced.

Cassie nodded. "You're in no shape to move, Uncle Jack. I already called the mountain; mom, a medical team and probably a lot of SFs are on the way."

Jack looked up sharply, his irritation fading immediately in the face of Cassie's pale visage. "Does anybody listen to me anymore?" he asked wearily.

"Not when it counts, Uncle Jack."

"Be careful, Cassie--there was a Goa'uld here."

Cassandra's eyes went wide. "A Goa'uld? But--how? And who? Why would they come here?"

Jack gritted his teeth. "Osiris. I don't know how...but she was after Daniel."

Cassie picked up Jack's sidearm, who immediately lashed out with quicker reflexes (not to mention coordination) than he'd have thought possible in his current state, removing it from her grasp. "No," he ordered.

Cassie's jaw firmed. "You want me to find Sam and Pete? Give it to me, Uncle Jack, because if that Goa'uld is still here, I know you'll never forgive yourself if something happens. I pride myself on my tae-bo lessons, but I don't think I'd last hand-to-hand with a thousand-year-old Egyptian god."

The stand-off lasted all of five seconds when Jack, despite himself, chuckled wryly. Reluctantly, he handed over the sidearm. "Do not touch that trigger unless you're in absolute mortal peril," he ordered.

Cassie leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I promise," she said quietly.

=====

Sam and Pete rematerialized with Osiris, and Sam immediately shoved Pete aside, assuming correctly that the Goa'uld wouldn't take too kindly to a couple of Tau'ri stowaways, or the gunshot wound in his shoulder. Osiris spouted what Sam assumed were profanities in his own language, and then a sharp backhand sent Sam sprawling across the gilded golden decor of the bridge. She groaned and shoved herself up again, managing this time to catch the flying right arm as it made a beeline for her skull again. "Pete!" she gasped. "Get the ribbon device!"

Pete's eyes dominated his face, and he gaped at her. "The what?!"

'Damn it!'! "The-the thing on her left hand--get it off!" Sam used her own leverage to shove the Goa'uld off balance when a booted foot propelled itself in a kick aimed at Sam's midsection, and Osiris stumbled momentarily, the kick instead connecting with Sam's left arm. Sam tried not to cry out as she felt something snap in her forearm, and refused to cringe when the cold blue-grey eyes of Sarah Gardner flashed the white-gold of Goa'uld possession.

Pete staggered to his feet and lunged a bit uncertainly for Osiris' left arm. The Goa'uld roared in anger, whirling and catching Pete in the sternum with an elbow. Quicker than Sam could react, Osiris rounded on Pete and brought the ribbon device to bear. Pete was thrown like a rag doll across the pel'tac, hitting the navigation array hard to slump in an unmoving heap on the floor. To add further injury to...well, injury, Osiris aimed the Ashrak device Sam had become familiar with and fired, the shot's aim off its target as Sam took the opportunity presented by the Goa'uld's turned back to seize the zat from the holster in Osiris' hip, and fired at the same time. The Goa'uld turned and glared at her in shock, managing one step toward her before slumping to the deck. Sam seriously considered discharging the second shot that would put the Goa'uld out of its misery, but visions of Daniel wandering the SGC after the disastrous attempt to infiltrate the Goa'uld summit and his failed attempt to save Sarah stuck in her head. Instead, Sam rapidly--and one-handedly--relieved her of the ribbon device and the Ashrak ring. She looked around the bridge desperately, searching for something to subdue her for when the Goa'uld inevitably took control again.

"The...wrist device." The soft, shaky voice, free of the Goa'uld undertones, caused Sam to look down at the figure slumped at her feet. Sarah Gardner peered up at her, body still caught in the aftershocks of the zat blasts. "We can all go back to Earth; just use the wrist device."

Sam nodded rapidly. "Right. Can you...can you hang in there for a while?"

Sarah offered her a smile that wavered all over the place. "As long as I can. He...it...is stunned, but it won't stay that way for long."

"Okay." Sam hurried across the bridge to Pete and shook him hard, silently apologizing for any unseen damage she might be doing. "Pete! Pete, come on; you have to get up! Come on, Pete!"

His eyes fluttered and Sam caught a glimpse of confused brown before they closed again. "Sam?"

"Yeah Pete, it's me--you have to get up and just come over here, all right? We have to get back to Earth."

"Back to...where the hell are we, Sam?"

"I promise, Pete, I'll explain everything to you if we get out of this, all right?"

Through the haze of his confusion, that reached him, and Pete grinned at her. "Bribe? 'M a cop, y'know."

Sam laughed weakly. "I know, I know--so sue me. Just...work with me here, all right? Before the Goa'uld comes back."

"Too late; already there." Pete pointed behind her, and Sam nearly had a heart attack when Sarah dropped to her knees beside them.

"Here. It's easier for me to come to you than for you to come to me."

An instant later, the bright light that engulfed them faded, revealing a shell-shocked Colonel O'Neill, holding Daniel and sitting against the wall next to--"Cassie?" Sam demanded, as both Pete and Sarah slumped on either side of her. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to come find you three!" Cassie shot back, fear and relief making her voice taut and strained. "Who's that?"

Sam didn't miss the way the colonel tightened his grip on Daniel, who had stirred at the abrupt noise. "This is Sarah," she said, making sure to emphasize the host's name. "Sir, it's all right; at least for now. I zatted Osiris."

"Yeah, and we all know how long that lasts." The colonel looked awful, with the tell-tale burn from the ribbon device smeared across his forehead, his countenance pale, hands trembling slightly as the stroked hypnotically (and, Sam noted, a little obsessively) over Daniel's back.

"Mom and her team are on the way," Cassie informed Sam. "I called her a little while ago. Where did you go?"

"We took a little trip," Sam said distractedly. She turned back to Pete, who'd passed out again, blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt in the lower right of his abdomen. "How long for the medical team? Pete's in bad shape."

"I think we all are, Carter," Colonel O'Neill pointed out dryly.

"Shouldn't be longer than five minutes or so," Cassie supplied.

"So join the party, Carter," the colonel said wearily.

Sam looked down at Osiris/Sarah, who was starring slightly, and renewed her grip on the zat. "Thanks sir, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather stand."

=====
=====

Jack watched mutely from the observation deck as the four Tok'ra representatives encased the Osiris symbiote in its own private Goa'uld bachelor apartment. Delek looked up and nodded toward the window, his ice-blue eyes solemn. Everyone present released their own sighs of relief. Jack just stared down at the figure on the table; Sarah Gardner was face-down, red-blonde hair tied up out of the way. Jack inclined his chin toward her. "What'll happen to her?" he asked.

Jacob Carter, standing at his shoulder and overseeing the procedure, inhaled and released the breath slowly. "She can be left here, with your people," he said, "or she may choose to come with us. Either way, it'll be her choice and her own battle to fight."

Jack slid the older man and former Air Force general a sidelong look. It still creeped him out how Jacob could so easily refer to the Tok'ra as 'us' or 'his people'. Christ, if it hadn't been for Carter's quick thinking and Jacob's own terminal case of lymphoma, the snake in his head would be long dead. Jack didn't doubt that, had he been the one if Jacob's position, he would prefer the snake to call Jack's people 'its people'.

Then he remembered he had been in Jacob's position, and his own lack of control in that situation made Jack shudder. "Yeah," he said sardonically, "I'm sure she'll jump at the chance to be snaked again."

Jacob didn't say anything, though Jack could feel his disapproval rolling off him in waves. "So how's Danny?" the older man asked instead, smoothly changing the subject. Jack was grateful; the last thing he wanted was to get into another debate about how Kanan was 'an exception' to the general Tok'ra population, and how the relationship was truly symbiotic.

He shrugged easily. "Daniel? He's fine--as far as he knows, Cassie drove him to meet me because I was late. He slept through mostly everything, happy as a clam."

"Did Osiris see him?" Jacob asked. At Jack's sharp look, the older man held his hands out defensively. "The only reason I ask, Jack, is because when Sarah here comes to, she'll likely remember seeing her former beau as a five-year-old. Don't you think that'll raise some questions?"

"No more than Carter's new fella wondering why her father walked in here with an alien contingent at his heels," Jack retorted lightly, baiting Jacob. Sure enough, Jacob's brows knit together.

"What was she thinking, anyway?" he complained. "She should have known better than to have walked him into this."

"Jacob, listen, I think this might be something better discussed with Cart--er, Sam. But I gotta tell ya, I don't think she'll care one way or the other what you think. You haven't seen the way she looks at this guy."

If Jack hadn't known better, he could have sworn Jacob was preening. "She's happy, huh?" he asked.

Jack grinned. "Ooh, yeah. Real happy. May even be losing some sleep at night, if you catch my drift." His grin faltered and vanished completely at the thunderous look Jacob sent his way. "Sir." He shifted uncomfortably and decided to quit while he was still somewhat ahead. "I should go..." he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Check on Daniel. General. General."

Hammond nodded, exchanging a smirk with Jacob. "Colonel."

---

Jack headed down the corridor for the infirmary, pausing in the door at the sound of laughter from inside. He peeked in around the doorway and saw Cassie and Daniel sitting on one of the beds, Cassie apparently teaching Daniel how to play 'Go Fish'. "Hey kids," he called quietly.

Daniel's head jerked up. "Jack!" He slithered off the bed and made his way over to the door, where he promptly seized Jack's hand and dragged him over to the bed. "Cassie's teachin' me a game!" he exclaimed. "I said you'd like it, 'cause it's all about fish, but when we started playin'..." Jack picked him up so he could stare disdainfully down at the cards. "There's no fish in the game, Jack."

"Hey, cool." Jack looped an arm around Cassie's shoulders, Daniel perched on his hip. "I love this game. Looks like we'll have something to play at home, huh?"

"Yup!" Daniel squirmed in his arms and Jack put him back down on the bed. Cassie looked up at him with apprehensive eyes.

"Everything okay?" she asked softly. Jack gave her a squeeze.

"Yup. It's all taken care of," he assured her.

Daniel, who had sat down quietly with his cards, looked up at Jack with a plaintive expression. "Is the lady gonna be okay?"

Cassie and Jack exchanged a look. Jack sat down on the edge of the bed, Cassandra shifting over to make room for him. "The lady?" he echoed.

"Mm-hmm. The pretty lady with the curly hair." The tip of Daniel's tongue poked out between his lips as he attempted to shuffle the cards in his hands. "I think I knew her," he announced. "When I was Big. Did I know her, Jack?"

Jack's mouth hung open minutely. "Um, yeah, you did...how do you know that, Daniel?"

One small shoulder hunched in a casual shrug. "Idano. I saw her, an' I thought I know her. What's her name?"

"Sarah."

"Oh."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. Cassie glanced at Jack questioningly, but all Jack could give her in return was a shrug. Daniel slapped down two fours and leaned forward triumphantly. "I win!"

"What?" Cassie looked down at the cards and at the others still in his hand. "How do you win? You still have cards, I still have cards, and you didn't say 'Do you have any' anythings!"

Daniel blinked at her. Once. Twice. "I just win," he proclaimed.

Jack stood up. "Okay kids, I think that's enough of that. Let's call it a tie, okay? Daniel, have you gotten any sleep yet?"

"Slept las' night, Jack!" Daniel punched the mattress under him with a fist, lower lip jutting out rebelliously. "And I do win!"

"No you don't," Cassie retaliated. "And no, Uncle Jack; he woke up hours ago, and hasn't slept since. He's tired, he just won't admit it."

Daniel's face was turning red. "I am not!"

If that wasn't a whine, Jack didn't know what was. "Okay, okay," he said slyly, "you're not tired. Come on; we'll stop in and see Carter, and then we'll go home, get something for supper, and we can watch the soccer game, okay?"

"Nooo," Daniel wailed, but allowed Jack to pick him up off the bed. "Don' like soccer! I wanna play more with Cassie!"

"I thought you won?" Cassie challenged. Jack gave her a light cuff on the head.

"Don't tease him. He's only five."

Daniel pouted at him, tears welling in his eyes.

Jack took the hint and apologized. Profusely.

=====

"Carter? Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

Sam turned at the sound of the colonel's voice, and smiled when he leaned in the door of Pete's room, Daniel sound asleep on his shoulder. "Hey sir. And yes, but..."

"Let me guess--you're fine."

Sam half-lifted her left arm, secured to her chest, as evidence. "Hardly a bump...just a couple of fractures..."

"A concussion..." the colonel continued in a drone. Sam shrugged. When she turned back to watch Pete, she heard the colonel step further into the room. "Does he--"

"Oh yeah." Sam chuckled. "I promised him I'd tell him everything if we lived. We did, so..."

"Have you talked to Hammond yet?"

Sam nodded. "Since Pete's been aboard an al'kesh, seen a Goa'uld--nearly gotten killed by it, as a matter of fact--and seen some all-around unnatural things, General Hammond doesn't think it'll do any more damage to put his curiosity to rest."

Colonel O'Neill smiled wryly. "For now."

"Yeah."

"Well listen," he said after a long pause. "I'd better get the munchkin home and into bed; Cassie and her late-night jaunt took a toll on him. Barbeque on Saturday? If, of course, you two are up to it."

"Yeah, sure." It was a moment before his words sank in, and Sam looked up in surprise. "'Two', sir?"

The colonel shrugged. "Sure. I mean, Pete's gonna wonder why this little guy and our 'friend on sabbatical' have the same name, same-ish looks, right? We'd may as well just get everything out in the open." He turned and headed for the door, the only other word he said being, "Two o'clock. Don't be late."

Sam laughed to herself as he left, feeling oddly like a teenager whose father just approved of her newest boyfriend. Speaking of fathers...'That'll be a treat.'

"Hey...I can hear you thinking. Tryin' to sleep."

Sam leaned in closer to Pete, who grinned sleepily at her. "Hey," she said softly. "How're you feeling?"

"Fantastic. How about you?"

Sam returned his smile. "Great."

"Good...think we have some things to talk about?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, about that. Can it wait 'til Saturday? We're going over to Colonel O'Neill's--"

"For a barbeque. Yeah, I heard." Pete laughed. "Knew he liked me."

Sam grinned, and leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead. "I guess so."

=====