<<Previous  | Story Intro | Return to Stories | Next >>

To Elvis, Or Not To Elvis 



General Vidrine peeked through the window. Nearly dropped his mug of coffee when he saw Ketill and Arnbjorg discussing…something…each man listening to the other intently. "I don't believe it," he muttered.

Major Davis, who was standing beside the general took a turn at looking into the holding room. "I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it," he admitted.

"It seems that General O'Neill's method worked," Vidrine said. He signaled for the guard to open the door.

At the sound of the key in the lock of the door, the two aliens rose to their feet, bowed slightly at the men who entered the small room.

"General Vidrine, we must offer our sincerest apologies for our behavior prior to…" Arnbjorg glanced around the room, then smiled, "before our being brought to our new accommodations."

Ketill nodded his head. "We were so busy trying to blame one another for what we believed the other had done, we didn't hear what was being said."

"Well, I'll be damned," Vidrine murmured softly when Davis had finished translating.

"We believe we have reached an agreement," Arnbjorg continued. "However, we wish to discuss the agreement with you, to hear any suggestions you might offer."

"We would be honored, gentlemen," Vidrine replied. He gestured toward the open door. Caught Major Davis by the arm. "Take them to the quarters they occupied, let them shower if they'd like. See to it that they get a hot meal."

"Yes, sir," Davis responded.

"I'll have Walter contact General O'Neill. No sense in bothering him to come in for this. He's on his honeymoon, after all," Vidrine continued.

"Yes, sir."

"I don't know about you, but I'll be more than happy to turn command back to George Hammond tomorrow morning."

"Me too, sir," Davis agreed.

Vidrine looked around the room again, noted the empty water bottles, the fact that little remained of the fruit basket. Shook his head, and walked into the corridor. How any of the men and women who worked within the walls of the SGC did the jobs they were called upon to do, and remain sane, was a question he would continue to ask. Even knowing that there probably wasn't an answer.

At least he would return to Washington, D.C. knowing that he'd not caused a major catastrophe. The SGC, and the entire planet, hadn't been endangered during his tenure as temporary CO. Something he would secretly delight in letting the other Pentagon Generals know. Especially those who continued to complain that General Bauer had been 'railroaded' into leaving the leadership position he'd coveted, and had garnered from the former Senator Kinsey. He could also brag about the fact that the men and women of the Stargate Program had been friendly, helpful, and not once had he faced any amount of insubordination. It didn't hurt that he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do: He'd be able to offer an opinion, one that would be heeded by most parties in the Pentagon, because he would be speaking with the voice of experience. He would insist that control of the SGC was in the best possible hands, and leaving it with those who'd earned the experience to deal with the day-to-day intensity of Stargate Command was the only logical course of action. He couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face.


A  A  A  A  A  A


In one of the finer hotels in Colorado Springs, a cell phone chirped impatiently. With a groan of complaint, one of the occupants of the king-size bed reached for the annoying bit of plastic and electronic parts. "Hullo?"

"General O'Neill, this is Sergeant Harriman."

Jack sat up in the bed. Pulled the sheet around Sam's bare shoulder, traced her jaw with one finger. "What's up, Walter?" he asked quietly.

"General Vidrine asked me to call you, sir," Walter replied. "Seems that there's no need for you to come to the SGC. The two alien diplomats have come to some sort of agreement, they just want a stamp of approval from the SGC."

He grinned from ear to ear. "That's great news, Walter!" And the fact that those two guys were talking to each other was pretty cool, too.

"Yes, sir. The general sends his thanks and regards, and says to enjoy the remainder of your down time."

"I'll do that, Walter. Thanks for the heads up."

"Yes, sir."

Jack snapped his phone closed.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked sleepily. "Do you have to go to the base?"

He slid back down on the bed, brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "Nope. Everything is fine."

"No leaving?"

"No leaving. At least not for a couple of days."

"C'mere, General. Let's celebrate."

"Aw, Sam, c'mon! Quit calling me 'general'."

"You weren't saying that last night," Sam teased coyly.

A shudder moved over his frame as memories of the night before danced in his brain. "Hoo boy," he muttered softly.

"Attention!" Sam said playfully, her hand moving beneath the sheet.

"That worked," Jack informed her, his body responding to her touch.

"So it did. C'mere, General," she repeated, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and Jack shifted his body on top of hers.

"Colonel, this is definitely fraternization."

"I know, sir."

He moaned softly. "You're very good at fraternizing."

"Yes, I am."

With a chuckle, Jack lowered his head to kiss his Wife. A thought that sent another shiver over his body. Coherent thought was impossible as he buried himself in the soft, firm body that wiggled so enticingly beneath him.

"I wonder if we're setting off sparks," Sam murmured against his throat.

"About to set the room on fire," Jack replied.

She giggled again. "We can do that now, we're married," she whispered.

"Yes, we are," he replied. In the back of his mind, with what little cognitive abilities were left to him, Jack wondered if Charlie was aware that he and Sam had tied the knot. Then thought that maybe he'd have Radar pass the message to Miss Eloise. Then Sam was kissing him again, and the only thought on his mind was how much he loved the woman in his arms.



(Ready to find out the answers to the trivia question?  Click here!)

<<Previous  | Story Intro | Return to Stories | Next >>

SciFi Topsites