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Story Notes: Never Alone 38: Author's Notes:

1. I owe anyone still reading this, abject apologies for not posting any chapters in an age. Recently a few people have asked me what has happened to this series and whether I intend to complete it. The answer is, yes I will complete it. I would never willingly leave a series incomplete unless something awful happened to me!

So, I am sorry I have kept you all waiting for so long. Progress with the series came to a standstill because of a combination of RL issues and what seems to have been an extended vacation taken by my Never Alone muse. Naughty, naughty muse! But never fear. She seems to have returned - at least for now!

Thanks to those of you who asked about the series. I think your encouragement enticed my Never Alone muse out of hiding, lol, which just goes to prove the power of that pesky nagging thing!

2. Many thanks and huggles to my beta reader, ImmerRDA, who patiently read through this and made many helpful suggestions and corrections. I know for sure that this chapter is better than my original draft thanks to her efforts. Nevertheless, any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Sequel/Series Info: Sequel to Never Alone 37: Time for Teal'c


'Life sucks!'

These words briefly flitted through Jack's head as he took another sip of beer and surveyed the carnage around him with an amused eye. Sure, he was enjoying himself, but he had expected to get a little drunker than this. So not fair!

Jack had been drinking all night and kept thinking another one would tip him over the edge. It never seemed to. That was kind of irksome. Tonight was his bachelor party - his final fling as a free man so they say - and he should be getting drunk as the proverbial skunk!

He was not entirely sure why skunks got this odd reputation for drinking. What was it with that expression? Was getting wasted something skunks did on a regular basis? If so, Jack figured he should be lying in a gutter right alongside a surfeit of them on tonight of all nights. Surfeit of skunks. That was another thing. Who the hell dreamed up that collective noun for skunks for crying out loud? A surfeit? What was it with that?

"These and other profound thoughts of General Jack O'Neill will be coming to a bar near you soon," he muttered to himself. Jack sighed, thinking he might as well have been drinking soda for all the difference it made. He was feeling incredibly clear-headed. Sheesh!

"So not fair," he muttered aloud. Everyone else was tanked, so why not him? This was his party, damn it.

That was the sucking part of the night. The amusing part was watching everyone else get crocked.

Daniel was out of it, of course, although he had vowed he would remain stone cold sober so he could look after a pie-eyed Jack. This was what a best man should do for the soon to be groom and Daniel should know because he had boned up on the rules of best mandom. It seemed to Jack, however, that the shoe would be on the other foot with him taking care of Daniel. It didn't take much alcohol to make his friend woozy, and not a lot more to get him totally stoned.

Right now, he was in one of those totally stoned phases. Daniel was currently regaling anyone he could pin down with stories about the great archeological digs he had known. Some people might normally find such a subject a little bit dry and dull, but not when Daniel was juiced.

Once he passed through the solemn philosophical stage of drunkenness his sense of humor shot into the stratosphere. Then, the man could take a darned good laugh at himself. Laughing at oneself helps when it comes to being entertaining. Sometimes Daniel could take himself far too seriously. Jack loved the guy but really. way, way too seriously.

Thankfully, his friend had not yet reached the maudlin stage of drunkenness. Jack figured it could come soon but hoped Daniel would skip it and move straight on to the comatose phase. When Daniel got maudlin drunk he became extremely over-emotional and mushy. Not a pretty sight.

Teal'c, bless his large cotton socks, was more sober than Jack. Hardly surprising given he did not drink alcohol. At present, his Jaffa friend was in animated conversation with Siler. Siler was the animated one. Teal'c was nodding, but his expression said little. Jack wondered what Siler was getting so enthusiastic about. Large wrenches, maybe. He laughed to himself at the notion of a conversation centered on large wrenches but was not curious enough to get off his butt and go find out what they were really discussing.

Jack figured he and T were probably the soberest people in the room. George Hammond looked the worse for wear and Mitchell was laughing his ass off at something Daniel had just said and surely also had to be drunk. Hank did not seem to be too bad. He probably thought he should keep a straight head in front of so many of his subordinates.

Then there were the rest of them from the SGC. Ferretti, Reynolds, Dixon, Walter, old Doc Lee. Old Doc Lee? Since when had he started thinking of the geek as Old Doc Lee, he wondered? Sheesh! The list of SGC folk went on and not even one of them was sober. There were so many of them that, if Jack had not already known, he would have wondered who was back at the mountain holding the fort. Almost inevitably, his party occupied the whole bar.

Earlier, Ferretti had started some of the guys off with a few rousing songs. The kinds of songs that turn the air blue and, as the singing continued, it was getting bluer by the minute. Tuneless and overly loud. Like a cacophony of cats in heat.

To Jack's amusement his future brother-in-law, Mark, joined in with the Ferretti led singsong. Jack had never figured Mark as the kind of guy who would get rowdy, let alone sing along with songs of an extremely blue variety. Just goes to show how wrong you can be. Jack thought Jacob would have enjoyed this night, discordantly singing with his son. It was a shame he had not lived to be here. Jack missed the old guy.

Mark had warmed to Jack in a big way since their trip to San Diego those many months before. Maybe he had simply resigned himself to the notion that his sister was military, was marrying into the military and would probably have her own military brats if Jack and Sam ever got around to having kids. Or maybe Jack had charmed him while the couple was there. In reality, it was both.

In a few days time, Mark would walk his sister down the aisle, replacing the father they had both lost. That seemed to please Sam, so it pleased Jack too. Whatever made her happy on their wedding day was fine by him. Happily ever after, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Of course, Jack was essentially a pragmatist, despite the romantic leanings that sometimes made a guest appearance. More frequently these days than they had for a while, admittedly, but he still knew happily ever after was a crock. Unhappy was bound to creep in sometimes. Without the unhappy, you could not fully appreciate the happy. Just like the two sides of a coin, like good and evil.

Briefly, he wondered if he should add that rule to Cassie's Jack O'Neill Handbook, but realized he probably did not need to. She knew it already. Everyone did, right? Or was he just a cynical old bastard?

Yeah, sure he was cynical. He had good reason to be. Live long enough, see life through the eyes of Jack O'Neill, and skepticism is certain to thrive. But at Jack's core sprang hope, optimism and a lust for life. Without that, he - and half the human race now that he thought about it - would probably have been dead already.

On the whole, life was good. He had Sam, a ray of sunshine in his life. A terrible cliche, he knew, but true nonetheless. He had good health. Well mainly good. There were the knees and the back and a whole catalog of odd twinges, but he felt pretty good most of the time. There was his work. Being mostly desk bound was not his idea of perfection, but he could still play his part in protecting and saving Earth and the universe. That never got old.

Then there were his friends. Many of them here in this bar right now. One bunch was carousing while another sat in rapt attention listening to Daniel Jackson and laughing themselves silly. Even more were scattered around in small groups doing heaven knows what.

Having had enough of introspection - it was his bachelor party after all, not really a suitable time for navel gazing - Jack thought he ought to get up and make an effort to go circulate a little bit more. At the very moment he considered it, however, he felt a thump on his shoulder.

Turning, he smiled in greeting at Teal'c, who had obviously extricated himself from Siler's over enthusiasm for gigantic wrenches without Jack noticing.

"Hey, T!" Jack exclaimed jubilantly. Getting up, he gave the Jaffa a friendly hug, not really noticing that he wobbled as he rose to his feet. Because of course, Jack was not drunk. He was entirely sober. Or so he believed. Belief and reality, however, are often two totally separate things. "Glad you wandered over. Sit down." Slightly off balance, he almost fell rather than sat back in his chair.

"How are you O'Neill?" Teal'c replied evenly, taking his friend's state of inebriation in his stride.

Jack merely grinned inanely in response to his friend's question. "You haven't got a drink old buddy," he declared. "What's your poison? Coke? OJ?" Jack's words were slightly slurred, but he did not notice. He moved to get up again, thinking he would go to the bar to buy Teal'c a drink, but his friend gently encouraged him to sit back down.

"You appear to be somewhat unsteady on your feet, O'Neill," he commented with a small amused smirk. He had never seen O'Neill in this overly intoxicated state before. Sure, Teal'c had been in his company when he had been drinking, but never like this. Probably because Jack rarely drank as much as this.

"Whatchya talking about, unsteady? Sober as a judge, that's me."

"Sober as a judge?" Teal'c queried with a puzzled look. "If judges are indeed sober, then I imagine at this moment you are not akin to one of them." Jack pouted in that child like manner he had a habit of using, and Teal'c decided it was not his place to disillusion the man about his current levels of inebriation.

"Perhaps I may purchase an alcoholic beverage for you, O'Neill?" he asked, moving swiftly away from the apparently touchy subject of drunkenness.

"I'm fine. Got all these," Jack said, grinning gleefully and indicating an array of drinks sitting on the table in front of him. "Folks just keep buying 'em. Sweet!"

A solitary eyebrow arched toward the ceiling as Teal'c regarded the so far untouched drinks his friends had lined up for O'Neill. The Jaffa was aware his friend had a large capacity for alcohol but, by the time he drank the numerous assortment of beverages on the table, he believed O'Neill might end up passed out under it. He was not knowledgeable enough about alcohol intake to realize that, by all rights, from the number of drinks he'd had already O'Neill should have passed out under the table well before now.

The two men sat in sociable silence for a while, watching the festivities. No one seemed to notice they were not joining in but simply observing. Then Teal'c turned back to face O'Neill and spoke again.

"It is about time," he said. At first, Jack did not catch-on to what he was referring to, particularly as the phrase seemed a tad on the colloquial side for his Jaffa buddy. He frowned, creasing his forehead with lines of puzzlement. Then he realized.

"You mean getting married?" he queried to be certain he had drawn the right conclusion. Teal'c was not the first person who had said something similar. Doubtless, he would not be the last.

"Indeed. To what else would I be referring?"

"Dunno," Jack replied with a small shrug.

"Are you nervous, O'Neill?" Teal'c queried after a lengthy pause.

Initially, Jack said nothing, taking a sip of one of his beers. "Yeah, I guess," he answered eventually. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of other people he would have admitted that to. Daniel, Jimmy, Sam. very few others.

"But no regrets?"

"Not about marrying Sam, no. Many others, yes," Jack retorted with a grin. Teal'c returned the smile.

"She is a good woman," he said.

"She's terrific." Jack was smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement, further amusing his ex-team mate.

"Indeed."

It was the kind of exchange the pair might have had sitting on the banks of a river on an early sunny morning, their rods dripping with bait to hook a fish. The two men took moments of peaceful comfort seriously and Jack regretted that his friend was averse to fishing. As far as he was concerned, this was what fishing was all about. He would have enjoyed more similar exchanges and moments of quietude with Teal'c in that kind of environment. The Jaffa warrior had never understood that. But he did understand all about peace and silence. He understood it very well indeed.

"I hope I can make it work," Jack mumbled. Teal'c appreciated those flashes of self-doubt. Pre-wedding jitters. Inevitable. The Jaffa might not be human, but that did not mean he lacked human emotion and empathy. In fact, he empathized with O'Neill about a great many things. In a lot of respects, the old friends were alike despite their very different roots.

"It takes two." Small words of wisdom.

"Yeah," Jack agreed.

"You will both make it work."

Jack nodded, a wistful expression on his face. "Yeah."

"You will be fine. An excellent couple."

"Sure. We'll be great." Jack winked and Teal'c grinned.

After that, the two men did not talk much, and Jack turned his attention back to his other friends and smiled inwardly. There were a lot of people there, lots of friends. It was only now he was beginning to realize he had so many. This was the tip of the iceberg and pretty tame in comparison to the stag party Jimmy arranged before he left DC. When those Pentagon types let their hair down, they could be really wild. He chuckled at the thought.

Some of those DC folks would make it for the wedding, but the nuptials were a few days off and not everyone could get away for that length of time. Therefore, Jimmy declared that Jack should have two stag parties; one in DC and one in the Springs. Jack had definitely been drunk at the other one, which had been a bit of a riot. Of course it had - Jimmy had organized it.

Jack's commanding officer, General Henry 'Wily Old' Fox, stayed sober all night, probably for pretty much the same reasons Landry did now. Wily was a good CO and ally. Sam's old friendship and 'adoption' by the Fox family did not hurt. Nor did Gladys Fox's always generous and gracious support. But it was way more than that these days. Generals Fox and O'Neill had become quite a team.

Fox was influential at the Pentagon. A force to be reckoned with. Subordinates crossed him at their peril, and kissed ass, while contemporaries respected him and listened to what he had to say. He also had the ears of his superiors. The general's nickname was not "Wily Old Fox" simply because of his surname. The connection greatly simplified Jack's life at the Pentagon.

Jack, however, did not have ass kissing ulterior motives for inviting his CO to his bachelor party in DC. He happened to like the guy. For a while, his wife had been like a substitute mom for Sam after her mother died. Fox was like an uncle or something so, these days, Jack was almost part of the family.

All his poker night buddies had been there that night too, of course. This group included Jimmy's now wife Jane, who insisted she was one of the guys despite her gender. With the occasional exception of Sam, she was the only woman privileged enough to attend those special poker nights in DC. Thus, Jack could not help but agree and he overruled Jimmy's decision to exclude her merely on the basis of her sex.

Jane promised she would not cramp her husband's style and get in the way of any male type activities he had planned. She was as good as her word, even when the overly endowed stripper arrived, even when they walked into the topless pole dancing bar. Jane was every bit as riotous as the men folk.

It was the kind of bachelor party a man is supposed to have. Getting drunk and ogling naked or semi-naked women as a final fling before tying the knot. Yeah, that night Jack got very drunk indeed. It was a typical Jimmy type night, the kind of night they held for his stag do - and the kind of night you remember, assuming you remembered anything at all. Jack remembered it all. Fun, and not that similar to tonight in many ways. One stag party like Jimmy's was more than enough.

Not that tonight was not fun, of course. It was simply fun in a different way. In a more Daniel Jackson kind of way. After all, Daniel had organized it. Tamer. No naked ladies, or at least so far. Jack was happy with that. The only naked lady he was genuinely interested in was Sam Carter. Soon to be Mrs O'Neill. Very soon.

Daniel was there in DC that night too. Jimmy found him sleeping in a corner of one of the bars they rolled into - a dead weight that Jack's old friend had to carry and dump in the back of a car so they did not leave him behind by accident. When they dropped him off at Francine's at some ungodly hour in the morning, she had laughed so hard her sides ached.

She did not seem to mind being woken up at that unearthly hour one little bit. Typical Francine. A good woman. She knew if she gave Daniel enough rope he would hang himself with it, so was not big on needless restrictions to his activities or timekeeping. Suffice to say, Daniel did not stir. Not even a flicker of an eyelid.

Jack himself had dozed off on the way home and woke up when Jimmy tried to bundle him out of the car and into his house. Many of his friends simply crashed at his place, which was groaning with people next morning. Groaning with groaning people, in fact. Jack remembered joking about that at one point and laughing himself silly at his own absurd humor. It had been quite a night and they all suffered for their enjoyment of it.

He figured Jimmy needed to organize that night out to compensate for not being involved in the wedding as his best man. He realized it was tough on Jimmy when he asked Daniel to undertake that role. It had been tough for Jack too. Jimmy was an old and dear friend, albeit that they had lost contact for a few years until Jack moved to DC.

The two men were very close and had been for many years before he had ever met Daniel. Different as chalk and cheese in many ways, just like Jack and Daniel, but this could sometimes be a good thing in a close friend, he thought.

Jack lost touch with way too many of his old friends after Charlie died and he split up with Sara. They were an anathema to him during that dark period in his life - too much sympathy and probably too much of almost everything else. He could not face those friends who knew of him as a husband and father to those loved ones he had lost. It was too painful, and Jack did not seek the compassion or support they might have provided. Totally the opposite. For one thing, he did not believe he deserved it.

He was also a man who tended to prefer to lick his wounds in private. Perhaps he had changed a little since those days, mainly because of Daniel and Sam's influence, and the new lease of life provided by the SGC. But he still had that tendency, even though he tried his best for Sam's sake, and for the longer term health of their relationship.

Now, Jack was pleased he had met up with Jimmy again. He had missed him.
Back in DC, the pair sought each other's company when they could. Their relationship was such that the rift Jack had once created might never have happened. He was grateful to find a true friend in that place when he had felt so isolated after his transfer from Colorado Springs. Jimmy forgave Jack for pushing him away. He never even referred to it.

Of course, these days, the two men were also business partners. Jack's financial contribution had helped Jimmy fulfill a dream - to open his own restaurant in DC rather than working in someone else's. It was still early days, but both men hoped to profit from that partnership, with Jack silently in the background supporting Jimmy's work at front and center of the business.

The men, therefore, had many reasons to be grateful to each other. They had been through a lot together. Served together. Faced possible death together. Worked, rested and played together. But then so had Daniel and Jack.

Consequently, selecting his best man from these two friends could have been a tough choice for Jack. He might have inadvertently hurt either of them through not asking, and either of them could have fulfilled the role. They both held a special place in Jack's heart. In the end, however, the choice was also simple. Daniel was the right man for the job, and Jack had made him very happy by asking.

As he watched Daniel now, merrily and drunkenly joining in the fun, Jack smiled indulgently. Definitely the right choice, he thought. Daniel had earned his dubious honor as best man. Jack was alive in many more ways than one because of him. From that first fateful trip to Abydos right up to today. They disagreed frequently, got on each other's nerves, and were such totally different kinds of men. Nonetheless, without him Jack would not have been here tonight and about to fulfill one of his own dreams - marrying Sam.

He turned to Teal'c, wordlessly indicating his desire to get off his butt and circulate again, at last. The Jaffa inclined his head in acknowledgement and Jack moved away, making the rounds of the various groups in the bar until, eventually, his tuneless baritone became an additional voice in the raucous choir of his friends and comrades in arms.

Sam was awake. She knew Jack was likely to be back very late, but also that when he returned it would probably be with a bang rather than a whimper. Bachelor parties tend to do that to any man, and Jack as the groom was certain to be smashed and make one heck of a noise staggering into the house.
She took the opportunity of his absence to catch-up, sitting in the living room with her laptop in front of her and pouring over project notes. Sam knew this might be her last chance to do so before the wedding. The next night it was her turn to celebrate her final days of freedom with some of her friends. Betsy and Francine would be travelling together from DC in the early morning, and Gladys Fox would arrive later in the day, as would some other old friends.

Jo, her sister-in-law, was already in Colorado Springs with Mark and the kids, and they had spent some time together earlier. Cassie would miss it, just as Chris was missing Jack's party tonight. Disappointing, sure, but the timing had to be off for someone, Sam supposed. Cassie and Chris had important stuff to do in college. The four of them would have their own little pre-nuptial get together when the pair arrived in a couple of days, and Sam looked forward to that. Jack and Sam treasured any time spent with Cassie and Chris.

Sam doubted the bachelorette plans would be as wild as whatever Jack was doing right now. Knowing Daniel, who had organized this bachelor party, tonight's revelry would be subdued in comparison to the festivities Jimmy had arranged in DC. She did not figure Daniel as a stripper kind of guy, whereas Jimmy almost certainly was.

So far, Sam did not have any clue about the details of that DC bachelor party. Jack was playing coy about the night's activities, which despite being a fifty plus year old man kind of suited him, she thought, smiling at the memory of the O'Neill bashful style demeanor. He would probably reveal all eventually, but Sam figured Jimmy would have organized some very risqué activities because he was, after all, Jimmy.

However, Daniel had hidden depths she was not entirely sure she would ever fathom, so perhaps she was wrong about tonight being tamer than those DC based festivities. Almost anything seemed to go on these male only, pre-nuptial, nights out.

No, her plans for the next night were not of the getting totally out of it variety. She figured Vala and some of the SGC crew might have a thing or two to say about that, but it was her night, not theirs. Sam planned a long drawn out meal in a good restaurant, followed by a classy nightclub. Things might get out of control at that point and, if they did, they did.

Sam and Betsy had discussed the plans at length, devising all kinds of permutations for doing something a little bit different, including the idea of a full weekend away. In the end, though, the current plan was what they had agreed. There were practicalities to consider and time was a factor, both Sam's and that of the friends she wanted to invite.

Cassie and Chris were the only people who could not fit in with either Jack or Sam's plans. They would have changed them to ensure the couple could make it but if they did that, it screwed too many other people up. Annoying twists of fate. So be it.

She was enjoying the empty house. The silence was peaceful, and she would feel better if she got this project out of the way before the wedding. Although if she did not, Sam was not going to let the loose ends spoil her wedding day or honeymoon. Jack still kept those vacation plans under wraps, simply telling her the kinds of things she might need to buy or pack.

From that, she discerned they were heading for somewhere warm. That suited Sam just fine. She had spent a small fortune on new clothes - underwear, bikinis, t-shirts, shorts, and a few hot little outfits she kept hidden from Jack so she could surprise him. Something for almost any plans he might have made.

The packing was already complete. New luggage, new handbag, with passport just in case. She was ready, more than ready.

Getting married. Oh my! Not simply getting married, but marrying the man she loved so deeply she could never begin to describe the emotions he provoked in her.

She was finally going to take the plunge. After two abortive attempts. Third time lucky, she thought, giggling to herself about what popped into her head at that moment. She pictured a scene from the movie, Alien. Lucky star. Ripley in her spacesuit, facing up to her foe, scared but determined to beat the evil alien monster. Lucky, lucky, lucky. She imagined walking down the aisle on Mark's arm, repeating it over to herself. Trying to quash her terror just as Ripley had done.

Ridiculous! One can't walk down the aisle picturing scenes from Alien, for crying out loud! Sam laughed. Now she was almost certain to think of it. Oh, hell!

She sighed, thinking she had probably done enough with the project notes so someone else could pick them up if they needed to in her absence. Jack and Sam had made it very clear that, unless alien spacecraft were actually orbiting Earth about to attack, they were not to be disturbed on their honeymoon.

If the world fell apart without them around for a couple of weeks then they might as well pack up and surrender right now. They were not indispensible, however much it might be nice to con themselves into believing they were. The Stargate Program would carry on without them and they would have a perfect honeymoon. At least, that was what she hoped.

To be honest, Sam did not much care about where they were headed, as long as they were together. She could rely on Jack to have planned something she would enjoy, even if was only a luxury bedroom they could spend all day in having great sex. A bedroom with first-rate room service.

Sam chuckled aloud and could feel her face flushing at the idea. She figured Jack would quite like the thought, and her reaction to it, but knew he would have planned way more than that.

She put the laptop to one side and stretched out on the couch, closing her eyes for just a moment and luxuriating in the silence. Sam thought she might have drifted off a little when a noise abruptly brought her back to reality.

Bang!

Chuckle.

"Shhhh."

Smash! Thud!

Giggle.

"Fer crying out."

Clatter!

"Crap!"

Groan.

Thump!

Snicker.

"You'll wake Sam!"

Laugh.

Smirking to herself, she got up and poked her head around the door. Jack was sitting on the floor with Teal'c about to pull him to his feet. A vase she kept on the small hall table was lying on the floor broken into pieces. The Jaffa looked up, and a face peered out from behind his large frame. It was Daniel.

Jack stared open mouthed, Teal'c bowed his head contritely and Daniel giggled. Tanked, Sam surmised. It was Daniel she had heard laughing as they came in.

"I apologize, Colonel Carter," Teal'c said. "We awoke you. And we have broken something of value to you."

His tone was hugely remorseful. Jack, meanwhile, continued staring silently, trying his best not to join in Daniel's sniggering, giggling mirth and to look serious and sober. Daniel was starting to get hysterical and it was hard to avoid being caught up with it.

Ignoring the other men, Sam smiled warmly at Teal'c. "It's okay, I was awake. I kind of expected this. No problem about the vase. Thanks for getting him home in one piece."

"I am not altogether certain he is in one piece. His mind seems to be elsewhere."

"No change there then," Sam commented and Teal'c smiled broadly.

"Indeed."

"Hey, I'm right here you know," Jack complained, his voice disjointed and slurred.

Sam continued to ignore him and Teal'c pulled him to his feet. Daniel thought this even funnier than whatever the heck he was already laughing at and continued to giggle heartily. Gleeful tears ran down his cheeks and he waved at Sam drunkenly.

"Hi Daniel," she said, waving back. "Have a good night?" He was laughing so much that he could not get any words out. So he simply nodded and continued, his stomach starting to ache with the contractions.

"What about me? Am I invisible?" Jack asked, pouting churlishly. Teal'c had propped him against the hallway wall and kept him upright with an outstretched arm. Sam squeezed past them and started to pick up pieces of broken vase, which she temporarily placed back on the table before turning her attention to the three men again.

"What should I do with him?" Teal'c asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Spare bedroom." Jack looked at her questioningly, a hurt expression on his face. "You snore really loudly when you're drunk," she said defensively.

"Drunk? Whaddaya talking about?" He was about to raise more objections when he felt himself hoisted into the air and over Teal'c's broad shoulders. "Hey!" he screeched, struggling vainly while Teal'c carried him along the hallway to the bedroom, exchanging a smirk with Sam as he passed.

Meanwhile, doubled up with laughter, Daniel slid down the hallway wall, landing in a small heap in the floor where Jack had just been sitting. Sam eyed him with patient affection.

"Care to share?" she asked, but he waved a hand to indicate that sharing was not possible. "What got you? Laughing gas?"

From behind her, a deep voice interrupted. "Do you require me to undress O'Neill, Colonel Carter?" Teal'c asked and Sam turned, smiling. She was finding this whole situation highly amusing.

"No. I can handle it. I think you'd better get laughing boy home."

Teal'c peered at Daniel and then turned to face Sam again. "Less than ten minutes ago he was on the verge of weeping," he stated.

"Ah! He's passed quickly through the maudlin phase and into a hysterical one. That's good. Next thing he'll be unconscious. Are you all right to get him home?"

"I can manage Daniel Jackson. You deal with O'Neill."

Sam nodded. She could hear Jack cussing from the spare bedroom and rolled her eyes. Her drunken fiance probably needed humoring.

"Wait!" she exclaimed as Teal'c tried to manhandle Daniel toward the front door. The Jaffa paused and she briefly grasped an arm and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Teal'c."

"You are welcome, Samantha," he whispered. She grinned, turning and leaving him to it and going to check on Jack.

Her husband to be was slumped on the bed looking a mess with hair sticking out all over the place and rumpled clothing. As Jack was tall and lean he seemed to have arms and legs sprawled everywhere.

"Bed," he said as she walked in.

"That's right. It's a bed," she replied with a tolerant smile. Sam stood at the end of the bed and surveyed the wreckage. Even from that distance, Jack reeked of alcohol. "Have a good time, honey?" she asked good-humouredly.

He glared at her. "Bed. You join me." He patted the mattress, eyeing her with pie-eyed optimism.

"I've already got a bed to sleep in." Sam was trying hard not to giggle at the hilarious sight of a drunken Jack O'Neill and she perched on the edge of the bed with a studiously serious expression on her face. No wonder Daniel had been laughing so uncontrollably, she thought.

Jack propped himself up on one arm and ogled her. "Aw, babe." he whined."How about a striptease for your soon to be old man?"

"You haven't seen enough naked women tonight?" she asked with amusement.

"Not a single one, I swear!" He held up a hand like he was taking an oath.

"Really? And you call it a bachelor party? If only Jimmy were here." She could not resist throwing him a smirk. "So, did you have a good time?" she repeated.

"Sure," he drawled. "But I think someone must have put some sober pills in my beer. Have we discovered such a thing as sober pills yet? Some alien race must have thought of something by now. Anyway, I should be drunk at my own stag party. Sooo not fair!" he griped and Sam chuckled throatily.

"Jack, you aren't sober."

"I'm not?" He peered at her myopically and lost balance, his elbow giving out under him. His head hit the pillow in a most ungainly manner and Sam attempted to keep a straight face.

"Definitely not."

He grinned idiotically. "Really? Cool!" Moving closer, he reached out a hand and ineptly grabbed one of her breasts while exhaling alcoholic fumes into her face. She figured if she lit a match he might breathe fire. "So, how about a little one on one, babe?" Jack waggled his eyebrows, leering suggestively but looking comical rather than seductive.

She met his eyes for a moment and then looked him up and down with a critical eye. "Mmmm. making love to a drunken man is almost always disappointing."

"Since when have I been disappointing in bed for crying out loud?" he retorted with a boyish pout. His groping hand came to a standstill for a moment and then started up again just as clumsily as before.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Never. Obviously," she replied in mocking tone.

"Are you making fun of me, Carter?"

"Would I?" She winked playfully.

"Huh!" he exclaimed with mock indignation. "Wait until we get married. Then we'll know what's what." She just grinned, choosing to ignore his jibe. "But, baby, I'm horny."

"That's not what your body says," she remarked pointedly. He just glared. "Think you can get it up Mr Scarecrow?" she asked, grasping his flaccid privates and squeezing, although not hard enough to hurt.

"Think I can't young Miss Dorothy?" he said with a 'dare me' sneer.

"If you shower, clean your teeth and can get it up after that, I'll consider it," she responded, pushing him away. "You smell disgusting."

"Gee, thanks," he responded with a disappointed sigh.

"Well you do! Like a brewery."

"I've smelled of worse."

She smiled faintly. "You surely have, but I never made love with you then either."

"Humpf! Give me a kiss?" he asked expectantly, and Sam obliged by pecking him on the cheek. "That's not what I meant."

"I know that, rancid breath." He appeared offended and was about to defend himself so she pressed on. "Bathroom. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Shower."

"Horny Jack. Sex!" he hissed. "So not fair!"

Sam regarded him with a long-suffering kind of expression. "You would fall asleep in the middle of it, I bet, if not sooner." She swiped his hand away from her breast at last and heaved a sigh.

"I'll take that bet, Carter."

Indulgent look still firmly in place, she bent down and kissed him on the forehead affectionately. "Um, okay. Maybe. What we betting?"

"I don't know, for crying out loud. Where were we? Mmmm." He paused to think for a while, trying to recall, then the lights came on in his head and he grinned mischievously.

"I know! You'll let me do it if I have a hard on when I come out of the shower. If I don't, I'll leave you alone and go to sleep. If I fall asleep in the middle of it, I'll play at being your slave for the first 30 days we spend together after our honeymoon. If I can manage some action before I fall asleep, you are mine."

Sam's eyes widened with glee, and just a little bit of anticipation. "Slave, eh? Now that is sooo tempting." It certainly brought back a few fun memories of odd nights here and there. "Sexual or otherwise?" she asked for clarification and Jack groaned.

"What you want a signed contract?" he retorted. "Anything, everything, whatever..." He waved a hand in the air nonchalantly and Sam glared at him suspiciously wondering if she might have been had. Nevertheless, she agreed to the bet. Secretly, she thought he would never make it to the shower, let alone make love to her.

Admittedly, the idea of Jack playing her slave for 30 days was appealing. It could be hilarious. She was not so sure if she liked the notion of losing the bet. Knowing Jack, he would play his role as her master to the hilt. Still, it might be exciting, particularly in bed.

This assumed, of course, that he would remember the bet in the morning when he woke up with the mother of all hangovers. Perhaps if she lost she could fail to remind him. Although Jack had a habit of remembering most of what had happened while he was stoned, his recall could be convenient to say the least.

As he pulled himself up from the bed, unsteadily but with that O'Neill style determination she had many reasons for loving, Sam watched with a small smile. He could barely walk, let alone make love. Nevertheless, he made it into the bathroom.

While he showered, Sam created little master/slave scenarios in her head, interchanging the roles they might play. Quite some fantasy. She was beginning to hope she would lose the bet. Then she realized Jack had been gone for quite some time. Not that she was clock watching but she was fairly sure he had been showering for way longer than usual.

Quietly, she crept to the bathroom, carefully poking her head around the door. The shower was still running, hot steam clouding the atmosphere. She could not see Jack moving inside the shower stall and could only just make out the outline of his body through the fog.

"Jack?" she said tentatively. He did not reply. "Jack, are you okay?"

The lack of response worried her, so she hurried to the shower and peered inside. What she saw made her gasp and then laugh out loud. Jack still had his pants and shoes on and was propped against the shower stall wall apparently dozing standing up.

"Only Jack O'Neill." she muttered to herself good-humouredly and wondering whether she could manage to maneuver him back into the bedroom. Where was Teal'c when she needed him?

Sam prodded him. "Jack." No response. "Jack! She jabbed harder. Nothing. "Crap! How the hell do you sleep standing up like that?" she asked fruitlessly. Belatedly, she switched off the shower and groped for a towel. Then she had an idea.

"What time do you call this, airman? You're late! Get your skinny ass out here now!" she shouted in her best imitation of a boot camp sergeant.

Jack jerked awake. "Wha.?" Rubbing his eyes, he looked confused for a moment and then his eyes alighted on Sam. "Was I dreaming?" he asked.

"No, you really did fall asleep standing up in the shower," she replied.

"Wha.?" He focused on his surroundings, looking down and realizing he was wet and still partially clothed. "What the hell.?" Shaking himself like a dog, he reached for the towel Sam was holding. "What happened?"

She grinned evilly. "Ummm. now let's see. you got drunk, came home, made a bet, took a shower and fell asleep." As she rattled off the list, Sam held up her fingers one at a time as if counting.

"Standing up with my clothes on?" He peered at her in disbelief.

"So it seems."

"Oy!" He scrubbed his hands through his wet hair. "I know I seem to be able to sleep almost anywhere but this is a little bit ridiculous, don't ya think?"

"No comment," she responded with a grin. "Let's get you dried off, shall we? You'd better take off those shoes and pants."

Jack rolled his eyes, starting to remove his shoes and peel off his soaking trousers. "I guess I lost the bet, huh?"

"Ummm. maybe. You could still try to win." Her smiling eyes twinkled with mischief and Jack said nothing as she plucked another towel from the rail to help him dry off.

He toweled his hair, face and neck while she dealt with his chest and back, then he started on his lower body. Pausing at his crotch, he looked up at her and captured her eyes. She waited for a moment for him to speak.

"God's truth? I'm exhausted. The shower sobered me up a little but that's made me realize I'm not up to it. Need to sleep. I guess you win."

Sam tittered lightheartedly. "I was kind of hoping you might pull it off," she teased.

"Sorry to disappoint."

Her hand lightly grasped the back of his head and she leaned up and kissed him on the lips. "Tomorrow, Mr Scarecrow."

He smiled. "Yeah, tomorrow. If my head will stop spinning."

She pulled away, moving over to the medicine cabinet, taking out some painkillers and tipping a couple into her hand. "Take these," she suggested, handing them to him.

"Thanks Dorothy." He swallowed them dry and then decided drinking some water might be helpful to dilute the alcohol, so he emptied the toothbrushes out of their glass, gave it a rinse and filled it, gulping down the refreshing liquid and then filling it again and knocking back more.

Despite the activity, and the shower, he was dead on his feet. Sam could see the exhaustion etched into his face, probably not helped by the quantity of alcohol he had consumed.

"So, your slave for 30 days, huh?" he said. "Whaddaya gonna do with me?"

She smirked, sympathetic affection swelling in her breast. "I'm sure I'll think of something," she replied with a wink. "Never mind that now. Bed. Sleep." She took him by the hand. "Come on."

"Your room?" he asked as she led him in that direction. "Thought I was in the dog house."

"Our room," she corrected and they exchanged smiles.

"Our room. Cool."

Sam helped him into bed, hastily undressing and joining him. Jack curled up around her, spooning against her back, and sighed contentedly, closing his eyes and starting to drift away into the world of healing sleep. He felt slightly woozy and nauseous but tried to ignore it and allow sleep to come. The feel of Sam's soft bare flesh under his fingers helped ground him.

Getting married to the most beautiful intelligent woman in the world. Only days away. He sighed again wistfully. Maybe life didn't suck so much after all.

*
TE




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