" Yellow, brown, light brown and…black. Yep, it looks just like a camouflage planet should look like."

Colonel O’Neill looked away from the UAV’s flight path above the tundra of PH5 CF3 and raised an eyebrow at his commanding officer. " Are you sure that you want to send SG1 on this one?" he asked, his dark brown eyes twinkling.

" This seems more like Jarhead territory. All those different colors to hide in? They’d be mad with delight, trust me."

General George Hammond didn’t even bother to reprimand his 2IC, well used to his sense of humor after working closely with the man for the past five years. He just sighed deeply and pointed back at the unrolling picture.

" Wait and watch Colonel," he ordered. " There is a reason why I asked for SG1 to be assigned this mission, and it should be coming up shortly."

Jack obediently refocused on the picture, watching carefully for something out of the ordinary. Nope, grass, what looked suspiciously like thorn trees and nothing, nothing, more nothing and…

" Good grief."

He stared aghast at what could only be a work of great magnitude, taking whoever built, carved, whatever, years to complete.

The tundra had abruptly come to an end at the top of a large cliff, one that seemed to stretch forever in each direction. Sergeant Simmons had then taken the UAV for a flight over the edge of the cliff, apparently looking for whatever lay in the mists down below, and had almost lost the craft in doing so.

There had apparently been a large river of water pushing hard under all that dry grass, a river that finally met the cliff, and freedom, in one of the most spectacular waterfalls that Jack O’Neill had ever seen. Niagara Falls had nothing on that beauty. It stretched for miles, roaring from an outlet two thirds of the way up the side of the cliff, the water boiling out of a multitude of fissures and throwing itself down towards God knew what hidden in the mists far below.

He was just going to compliment General Hammond on the show when he saw what the General had seen the first time he viewed the tape, the carving, or building, or… whatever.

" Good grief is as good a way of expressing itself as any, I guess," the General mused pensively, watching his second closely. He had seen the tape countless times, and was interested to see if O’Neill found it as fascinating as he had.

Apparently he did.

" That looks like, a village, or maybe a city, actually carved into the side of the cliff, just above all that water," Jack whispered almost to himself, his gray hair shining in the reflected light of the monitor, his eyes pensive. " Daniel would know for sure, if we ask him. In fact, if I ask Daniel, he’ll want to go immediately, which would be a mistake.

" Oh really? And why’s that?"

General Hammond waited patiently for his second’s answer, intrigued as to what it could be. Was he upset with Jackson, or was there a more sinister answer? Or maybe there was something on the tape that the astute soldier had picked up on and he hadn’t.

" Did you see something that I missed?" he prodded, only to receive a smile in return.

" Not at all sir. It’s just my night off tonight, the first one in, oh, about two weeks give or take, and I have front row tickets to the Falcons-Senators hockey game in Denver." His smile became wider. " As I’m sure you’ll understand, if I tell Daniel, or even Carter about this interesting discovery, I’ll never get there."

General Hammond looked at his watch, then back at O’Neill. " I see your point Colonel. All right, your mission is scheduled for 18H00 tomorrow anyway. Tell you what, I’ll tell the rest of your team so they can prepare everything in your absence. Go and enjoy your ice hockey game and I’ll see you then, okay?"

Colonel Jack O’Neill knew when not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was actually due back on base at noon tomorrow, but if the General was feeling generous, well, who was he to argue. Okay, so he hadn’t actually said be back at 18H00 in so many words, but then, the deciphering was entirely up to who ever the sentenced was addressed to. Right?

" Yes General, thank you General," he said, bowing out of the room. The minute he was out of eyesight he fled. It was a long way from Colorado Springs to Denver, and although it was a perfectly mild spring day, he really wanted to get there before dark.

Two hours later found a lustily singing, civilian attired, US Air Force Colonel cruising up I-25 towards Denver. Somehow, and he couldn’t explain it either, he had managed not only to miss all three members of SG1, thus not have to answer any of their questions on what he was doing on his evening off, but had also managed to stop at Mickey Dee’s and eat one of their cheese burgers, without having to battle his way through four million screaming kiddies to do so.

Yes, he liked kids. In moderation. He just disliked them intensely when they were in his way when he was in pursuit of a burger and fries.

" Home in the U S A," he yelled, deliberately and with great abandon mangling Bruce’s well known song, not caring a whit if other drivers wondered what he was doing. This was his night, the weather was warm, and he was going to watch the Falcons nail the Senators, no word of a doubt.

Smiling to himself he looked for, and found, the distance sign at the side of the road. Forty miles to go. His smile slipped somewhat at that news. Darn, he had hoped to be closer to Denver than he was. Despite being based in Springs, he didn’t know I-25 that well and wasn’t looking forwards to navigating it at night.

He shivered in the gathering dusk. Despite it being Saturday evening there were few cars on the road, and that coupled with the looming national forest, made him feel a deep sense of foreboding, something the loudly playing radio couldn’t quite dispel.

Smiling sardonically, he gave himself a mental shake.

" C’mon Jack. This here is earth, your planet. Yep, at times more dangerous than Apothis, Ra and Chronos put together, especially on a Saturday night in downtown Denver, but you are charmed, you are in the right, no, even better, you are RIGHTEOUS!"

At that precise moment his unopened can of cola decided to roll off of the passenger seat and hit the floor with a thump.

" Aww hell," he said, looking towards the heavens. " Give a guy a break, will ya?"

Keeping a wary eye on the centerline, he blindly began to grope for the tin.

----------------------------

" C’mon, you bastard," the unknown truck driver muttered, trying to cajole his massive Peterbilt to new levels of speed. That last truck stop had been his undoing, something he knew at the time and hadn’t much cared about, until now.

Now he was late, and regretting the cause of his delay intensely.

She had been sweet and young, with such a cute body, but if it meant getting his arm broken for a late delivery, a complete waste of money.

" C’mon you bastard," he pleaded again, forcing his rig way over the acceptable limit. He might just make it. The people he worked for accepted no excuses, meaning he really couldn’t afford to be late, not when he was so close to his final destination.

Muttering impatiently he muscled the rig around another bend in the road, just grateful there was no traffic to speak of on this usually busy patch of road. He took the corner at full speed, gritting his teeth at the scream of protest his tires were making, aware that he was cutting dangerously over the centerline.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, he saw a flash of chrome and red heading straight for him, or was he heading straight for it?

There was no time to react, no time to do anything, even pray.

He heard a muffled crunching sound as the oncoming truck impacted way below his grill, rapidly slowing his rig down to almost a crawl before finally tearing loose in a scream of tortured metal.

Panting in reaction the trucker slowed his rig to a halt, looking back at what used to be quite a nice Ford truck in his rear view mirrors. It had been pushed into a ditch at the side of the road, impacted into a cube of hissing metal and steam, now almost unrecognizable.

" Oh God, Oh God," the driver wailed, frantically opening his door, preparing to jump down and help. He didn’t need this, not with just twenty miles to go. And definitely not with the type of cargo he was hauling.

Suddenly the trucker panicked. He could not be linked to this. If the authorities found out what he was hauling, he would be toast.

Hell, even worse, if his bosses found out that he hung around, he would be dead.

Whomever that driver was, he was on his own.

With panicked fumbling movements he slammed his door shut and once more set his rig in motion, praying that nobody witnessed what had happened.

He had only a few miles to go until the outskirts of Colorado Springs. Once he was there, and his merchandise unloaded, he would call the authorities and confess.

So he told himself, believing the lie, disappearing into the night without another backwards glance.

--------------------

It happened so fast it seemed almost unreal. One minute he was reaching down for the cola, the next he seemed to be flying. He felt the front window break in a shower of tiny pieces and he even had time to remember that safety glass did that, before his body impacted against what could only be the front grill of a massive truck. For one brief moment he felt something hard and cold that had to be the other truck, pushing him inexorably backwards.

Velocity. The truck had more speed and weight than he did, had.

It had stopped him dead, and was now pushing him backwards.

He vaguely wondered precisely how much time he had spent in the company of Carter, when he abruptly was thrown back against his seat; snapping his head back and making his teeth click together with a crunch. That hurt, badly, snapping him back to reality with a soundless scream of fear and agony. Then, at long last, the monstrosity swept his truck to one side, and he along with it, sending him bouncing and skidding along the road until everything stopped in a storm of slowly settling dust.

For a while Jack was quite content to lie where he had ended up, still securely fastened in place with his head resting against the side pillar behind where his window used to be, waiting for the other driver to come to his aid. He felt cold, and light headed, and knew beyond a doubt that he was injured. He watched through partially closed lids as the massive eighteen wheeler sat there for a while, whilst hopefully the other driver was on his two way radio or cell phone, reporting what had happened.

When the Peterbilt suddenly began to move forwards, Jack thought he was dreaming at first, it was only when it disappeared around another bend without slowing did Jack realize what a dire predicament he was in.

" Ah, shit." His voice echoing in what was left of his cab made him smile wryly. Life was so unfair. " Okay Jack," he said quietly. " Wait a moment. Someone is bound to see you and come and investigate."

When the headlights of the next vehicle roared straight past him, and the next and the next did he realize just how much trouble he was in. That massive monster had literally thrown his truck into a ditch at the side of the road, making it, and consequently him, invisible to anybody unless they were right on top of him.

" Oh for crying out LOUD," he screamed.

He knew that he would have to move now, or wait be rescued the next day, something he didn’t want to even think of. The pain was starting in earnest now, from his legs, his chest and, oh God, his neck. He couldn’t move. He dare not move. Maybe the pain in his neck was nothing more than whiplash; he distinctly remembered his head slamming forwards, and then back. Or maybe it was a bit more severe than that?

Slowly Jack began to move his hands and feet, trying desperately to see how bad it actually was.

Hands? Slowly he moved cold fingers, pressing them into sharp metal. Check.

Feet? Carefully he moved his feet, the grating pain making him want to cry, not because it hurt, but because if he could feel the pain, then he wasn’t paralyzed.

" Oh, thank God," he whispered, staring up at the tiny patch of sky, the sound of his voice lifting the veil of loneliness that had started to smother him.

" Now, lets get out of here." Slowly, by degrees, he tried to lift his head away from the side column, only to gasp in agony as darkness crashed in.

Jack wasn’t aware of time passing, but it must have, because the next time he awoke it was dark and silent.

Shivering badly in the coolness of the night, he tried to reach into his jeans pocket. His cell phone was there, neatly tucked into his back pocket. All he had to do was remove it and phone home. They would come, his friends, his family. He had no doubts that they would all still be on base, in the warmth and light, the lure of something new that that planet offered would prove too irresistible for them to leave.

God Damn it. He wanted to see them so badly, before he…no. He would not die.

It hurt. It hurt badly as he moved his arm, making him cry silently, his pain and loneliness finally finding their own outlet, the shock making his body react in a totally human way.

When eventually the tremors stopped, and he once more could see clearly, he tried again. This time it was easier to master, the grinding pain less.

Or maybe he really was dying.

That thought made him grit his teeth in fury. He always knew that he was going to die painfully one day, but had plans for it to be elsewhere than on earth. This was unfair, this was…unscripted.

He laughed at that, a harsh laugh that moved his head slightly, sending him back to crying in agony, big tears running down his face as the pain returned with a vengeance. He wasn’t destined to die like this, a boneless rag doll in a crushed metal cube. He would not die like this.

" I WILL NOT DIE. YOU HEAR ME?" he screamed at the heavens, his fingers finally finding the smooth polished sides of his goal.

Slowly, inch-by-inch, his trembling fingers pulled the phone out, unmindful as to how much pain their owner was in. Whoever designed jeans pockets must have been a masochist, or female. Suddenly the phone was free, and its owner relaxed. Just for a moment. Just for a moment.

Jack awoke with a start, as the phone hit something metallic with a clunk.

Ignoring the sound he frantically groped for it, sighing with relief when he found it on his lap. Christ, that had been close. If he had dropped it on the floor, it would have been as lost as on the dark side of the moon.

If that had happened he would have died, his general light-headedness telling him that he was still loosing blood.

If this didn’t work, or he couldn’t reach anybody, then he was dead. Morning would come and he would be dead.

Slowly, gripping his precious phone tightly, he raised it to his ear.

------------------

Doctor Daniel Jackson was in the staff canteen with Doctor Janet Fraiser when his cell phone rang. He always found it weird that it rang so deep underground, yet lost its signal going through any tunnel around Colorado Springs. He secretly suspected that NORAD had installed a repeater somewhere overhead, but if they had, they weren’t telling.

Reaching for it, he read the screen and smiled.

" Jack, you dog, enjoying life whilst we do all the work. How were the playoffs?"

What he heard sent his chair flying back and his face pasty.

" Daniel. I’m badly hurt," Jack whispered, hearing his friends horrified intake of breath.

" I’m on the…I-25 around 35miles from Denver. It was a head on, a hit and run. Tell…Janet. Tell her…"

" Tell her yourself," Daniel snapped. " She’s right here."

" Code red," Daniel roared, giving the phone to Janet.

Instantly the canteen fell silent.

A code red meant a team, or a team member was under fire. That Dr Jackson would use the code in the canteen was unorthodox to say the least, but when they saw Dr Fraiser hunched over a cell phone, the canteen became deathly still.

Daniel sat back for a moment, thoughtful, before rising to his feet and reaching for the base phone. Jack was hurt, necessitating that General Hammond be informed, just in case it was a deliberate accident. It wouldn’t be the first time that forces hostile to the stargate program moved against them.

He spoke to the General in a clear and concise manner, years of practice telling him just how to proceed. Once upon a time he had been a geek, unsure of himself and his place in life. The care and attention of one man had changed him forever, the man who was badly hurt somewhere close to Denver.

" Yes, Colonel O’Neill was in an accident on the I-25 out of Denver, he is conscious, but says he is badly hurt…. No, I don’t know where precisely he is, but Doctor Fraiser is talking to him as we speak.

Thankyou General, we’ll be there in ten."

Daniel turned back to Janet as she rose to her feet, the phone still pressed tightly to her ear, hearing her softly spoken words as he guided her towards the elevator.

" We’re on our way right now, Colonel," she said gently. " I want you to stay calm and not to move. Okay, so you can’t move, but that doesn’t always indicate you have a broken neck…" She smiled thinly at Daniel’s horrified expression.

---------------------

Jack couldn’t help the tremble in his voice as he spoke to Doc Fraiser. Her voice was so calm and comforting, reminding him forcefully of his mother all those decades ago as she told him what to do, which was essentially nothing.

Just hold on, breathe, and stay conscious. Hold on and breathe he could do, for a while at least, but the staying conscious part was proving to be a bit difficult.

For a while everything went gray, like the world was filled with cotton wool, and it took all his strength to keep the tiny silver phone to his ear.

Then Daniel was back, his voice firm.

" Jack we need you to do something for us. If no one can see you, then neither can we.It’s pitch black out there, you know," he said somewhat unnecessarily.

" What we propose to do is drive along with the ambulance siren on. We also have a humvee filled with SF’s behind us, and they are going to lean on their horn as well. Tell us when you can hear us, okay?"

" Okay."

There was a lot of pain in that one whispered word, making Daniel clench his jaw in fury. His friend was in trouble and had been for hours by the sound of it, and they were still relying on him to help.

------------------

" I hear them."

Daniel tapped the ambulance driver on his shoulder, making him slow. " How far off now?" he asked.

" Close, very close, almost on top of me."

A hard tap and the ambulance stopped, seemingly on a deserted stretch of road.

Suddenly the powerful beam from one of the soldier’s torches found the deep gouge marks in the road. Other beams then found the oil and glass, and traced it back to a deep trench at the side of the road.

" Sir," The cry went up. " We’ve found him."

------------------

Jack was conscious of young faces staring at him before the military hierarchy snapped into place with a few swift orders.

Then Janet was there, leaning in and carefully pressing cool fingers against his neck, Daniel’s anxious face becoming visible behind her as flares were set up.

" Hey," he whispered to them as someone started pulling on the truck doors.

" Hey yourself," Janet whispered back, as his door came free with a clang.

More hands seemed to come from behind him and he felt a pinprick in his arm. " Don’t worry Colonel, we have you," she whispered. " You can sleep now."

-------------------

" You should have seen it, Jack. Those carvings were the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life. Why, just one carving stretched over…"

" Daniel, mercy. Give an injured man a break please," Jack begged, making his friend grin.

" What, another one?" he asked lightly.

Daniel sat back and looked closely at Colonel Jack O’Neill. He had just been released back into Janet’s care after spending two weeks in critical care at Academy General Hospital in Colorado Springs, and was still too sick to complain – much.

They had been lucky, he thought with a shudder. The impact between the different vehicles had been so great that Jack had broken both arms and legs, as well as most ribs on the right side of his body.

He lay there, every inch of exposed skin literally black and blue and glared at him, his head unnaturally still due to the cervical collar he was forced to wear due to severe whiplash.

" What?" Jack asked, his eyes glittering dangerously as Daniel hesitated.

" Ah, just wondering something."

" And that would be?"

" How in the hell you managed to lift a cell phone to your ear using a broken arm."

" Danny," he sighed. " I was laying there in a crumpled heap, thinking I had a broken neck. I was cold, lonely, and feeling miserable because no one could see me, and therefore rescue me. I had no choice but to use the cell phone. As it was, it took me over half the night to remember I even had a phone."

" Oh," Daniel said, fingering a pile of glossy photographs. " Lucky that you did," he said eventually. " It’s just such a pity that you missed all those carvings on PH5 CF3," he said, his enthusiasm making a rapid return and making the older man smile. " I tell you, they even had the ceilings in those huge caves above all that water carved with what we assume are birds and animals."

That got Jack interested, and fast. " I trust that you didn’t go climbing somewhere dangerous in order to find out?" he asked calmly, his eyes belying his calmness.

" Hell no," Daniel smiled, making Jack relax. " Climb above all that water? You’ve gotta be kidding. Sam figured out that there was more power there than Niagara Falls, all falling to God knows where, miles down. No, I let the Qolumbarians, that’s the people of the planet. A youngster called Para climbed everywhere for me, taking copious photo’s."

He looked at Jack expectantly.

" Okay, he sighed. Hold them up and let’s see."

He managed four photographs before falling asleep, whether unplanned or by design; Daniel wasn’t too sure, or really cared.

He was just happy to have his friend back, alive, and talking.

---------------

" I still don’t know what is so interesting that you have to tear me away from my comfortable hospital bed," Jack O’Neill grumbled two weeks later, secretly pleased to finally be taken away from sadistic nurses and crazy doctors.

" I was quite happy there," he continued, looking up from his wheelchair at the rest of SG1 as they carefully navigated the route out of Cheyenne Mountain.

Carter would have answered that, and probably earned herself a reprimand, but Daniel beat her to it.

" Oh please," he snorted. " Any longer and Janet would have had her entire nursing staff mutiny, as you well know. Besides, we have a surprise lined up for you, a brand new day starting with early morning sunshine and progressing from there."

" Oh Daniel," Jack said sweetly, noticing how his sandy haired friend had disappeared behind the rapidly moving chair.

" Only you would consider 11H00 to be early morning."

He received a very Daniel-like snort. "Just shut up and sit there with baited breath, okay?

" Why, are we going fishing?"

" This is actually interesting, unlike your pathetic attempts to murder some unsuspecting fish," Daniel muttered somewhat evilly.

Jack would have replied, only Teal’c had this thing about speed, and his wheelchair was fairly flying.

" Uh, Teal’c," he muttered apprehensively, "Not that I don’t appreciate your help, I do, but I’m still in plaster, and…"

His voice died as he saw what his team had been rushing him towards.

" Guys…how, where?" He whispered after a while. After he had found his voice.

It was a solid lump of blinding chrome and red paint, with a Ford badge prominently displayed on the front grille. The truck must have cost a fortune.

" Do you like it sir?" Carter asked cautiously, gauging his reaction.

" God Carter. If I wasn’t sat all broken and bruised in this damn chair, I swear I would give all of you a hug, the big Jaffa included."

He left them grinning like idiots and carefully navigated his way around the truck - using the 'doohickey' control on the chair - feeling like a kid at Christmas.

" This is absolutely superb," he said, " even that tiny carving hanging from the rear view mirror is nice."

Daniel grinned. " I know you don’t like distractions when you drive, but when I told Para on PH5 CF3 that you couldn’t make it because you had fallen off of your horse and broken some bones, he insisted that I gave you whatever it is."

Jack nodded, his eyes shining. " I’ll thank him one day," he murmured.

Slowly reality set in.

" Guys, how did you manage to pay for all this? He asked, taking a last loving look at the truck as Teal’c started to wheel him back inside.

" We didn’t," Daniel said. " You did."

That got Jack frowning. " Correct me if I’m wrong, but my insurance payout would have come to nowhere near how much that baby is worth." He directed Teal’c towards the canteen, where they soon found a table.

" So where did the other money come from?"

Daniel was back to grinning. " As I said, you paid for it."

Jack had had enough of Daniel’s antics.

" Major, explain", he said impatiently.

To his relief she smiled and did as ordered.

" Sir, do you remember reading about the massive drug problems the schools in the greater Colorado Springs area were having?"

He nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

" Sure. Someone new had managed to set up a network using cola bottles. Then all the dealer did was go near the school and sell his wares." He stared at the coffee with narrowed eyes, trying to dredge up information. " I remember the police commissioner complaining that they were finding it hard to track the dealers down because their method was so novel. I mean, who would suspect a watertight vial of cocaine was hidden in the bottle of coke little Suzie had just bought?"

" No one," Daniel agreed. " That’s why the police were offering a fifty thousand dollar reward for information leading to the merchants arrest."

" Were?" Jack asked cautiously.

Daniel nodded, casting his own eyes longingly at the coffee urn. " Uh-huh," he said, getting to his feet.

" Sam will tell you the rest," he muttered distractedly, making them all smile.

Carter smiled sweetly. " Sir, we still don’t know how in the hell you did it, but out of all the vehicles you could have possibly collided with, the one you did just happened to be one filled up to the ceiling with cola bottles."

" So?" Jack asked impatiently.

" All with tiny vials of cocaine floating in every one," Daniel said, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of Jack.

" You’re kidding," Jack breathed, knowing that they weren’t.

" Nope," Daniel said, grinning widely. " I didn’t know this, but when there is a hit and run, the police get involved, because it is a crime to leave the scene of an accident, especially where there are injuries. Of course it also helped that you are a high-ranking air force officer, and the USAF were looking over every ones shoulder."

" About the truck?" Jack asked patiently.

" Oh yes," Daniel nodded; pushing his classes back up his nose. " Well, it seems that they measure the skid marks and such on the road to find out whose fault the accident was, and to see precisely how fast everyone was going at the time.

When it was clear that you were an innocent victim, everybody turned their attention to the absent truck, which was really easy to find seeing as you had the number plate resting on your lap when you were found."

" The clunk," Jack breathed, causing the others to look at him in puzzlement.

" I dropped the phone Daniel," he explained. " By rights it should have hit the floor and I would have died, having no way to retrieve it. But it didn’t. The phone hit something metallic in my lap with a solid clunk, waking me sufficiently that I was able to call you for help."

" The number plate," Sam breathed.

" You were still in serious condition in Academy General when they finally arrested the truck driver," Daniel continued. " The police had one hell of a fight on their hands with lawyers and such, because the driver worked for a Columbian cartel with a vested interest in springing him quickly, just in case he rolled over on them. Unfortunately for the high priced lawyers, they couldn’t spring the driver because he was being held for attempted murder, or manslaughter… of you."

"Two weeks later you were transferred to the infirmary and the truck driver was persuaded to talk."

" The day before this one was the day Daniel Jackson received a summons from the Colorado Springs police," Teal’c said, refusing to be left out. " They had the reward dollars to give to you written on a piece of paper."

" A cheque," Daniel murmured, earning himself a glare from the Jaffa.

" With some persuasion the police were convinced that you were still to ill to accept this…cheque personally and that Major Carter would accept on your behalf."

" Which I did," she said, her eyes shining. " We then deposited the cheque into your account, which was really easy by the way, broke into your house and found your visa card."

" You what?" Jack said, staring at her.

" That isn’t all we did either. I remembered that you had mentioned that you really liked that truck, so we took your credit card to the dealership and bought it."

"By forging my signature?"

She nodded, unrepentant. " Daniel does a masterful Jack O’Neill signature sir."

" When the bank phones, I’ll be sure to tell them that," he muttered, feeling slightly stunned.

His team smiled at him, even Teal’c showed some teeth, which was rather disturbing.

"So now what?" Carter asked, trying to look innocent. "We have all been given a weeks vacation for a job well done, which in a way is irritating as I really wanted to sample the Naquadah deposits on P56 G30."

She gave him a dirty look when he groaned.

" However," she said, holding up her hand, "however, we have a really nice commanding officer that just happens to have a brand new Ford truck that needs breaking in."

She stared over his head at Daniel and Teal’c. " Don’t you think?"

O’Neill looked at her morosely. " Do I have a say in this?"

" You can sit in the front and be a front seat back-seat driver, okay?" she teased.

Teal’c nodded gravely, looking confused. " If O’Neill wishes this," he rumbled, " then I for one would be delighted in breaking O’Neill’s new truck."

Jack O’Neill spoke through the horrified silence that ensued, his eyes warm.

" Thanks Teal’c, but let’s give that honor, which really isn’t necessary in this day and age anymore, to Major Carter, seeing as she was the only one I recall ever telling how much I coveted this truck, and that was months ago."

When they smiled at each other, Jack O’Neill sat back in his chair and nursed his coffee, hoping the aromatic brew would dissolve the lump in his throat.

How had he become so lucky as to have such a caring bunch of people under his command he didn’t know. Suffice it to say, if they wanted to go somewhere, together, as a team, who was he to argue?

" Where are we going?" he asked eventually.

Teal’c looked studious, not always a good thing.

" I have been reading up on a Tau’ri state called Alaska…"

EINDE

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