"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 weapon?" 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 a 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.