Archive of Our Own

They’d come a long way since their last SG-1 team night.

Back then, the party was the team of four, and the team was the party. Even as the SGC expanded, and the occasional larger gatherings grew accordingly, SG-1 had always been family, and sometimes you only wanted to invite family.

But since those last days of the original squad, the family had grown. Vala was a member of the team in her own right, but she would’ve been included anyway as Daniel’s wife. Cassie and her newly read-in fiancée Cecilia were there. Cam Mitchell, Carolyn Lam, and Teal’c had carpooled down from the mountain.

A good group of people. More importantly, a group of people who could safely warm Sam and Jack’s new house in Colorado Springs without anybody worrying about spilling the alien beans. Or about getting a little schnockered and committing moral turpitude in front of two current generals and one retired general.

“Except you.” Jack scowled at Cassie, who was in charge of the playlist for the evening. “No moral turpitude from you. We don’t need to see that from our kid, so, you know…take it to the basement or something.”

“We’re not gonna be engaging in any turpitude,” Cassie assured him.

Cecilia glanced at her, then shrugged philosophically. “I might.”

“In the basement,” Jack reiterated. Then Cassie started the music from the iPad in her lap, and his face broke into a rare grin. Things were looking up.

“I love this song!”

“I told you I would make an epic playlist. Oh ye of little faith.”

“How the heck would I know? All that book learnin’ could’ve ruined your taste in music.”

Cassie rolled her eyes and returned to giggling with Cecilia about whatever young lovers giggled about these days. Memes, or iced coffee, or something.

He looked around the living room, but didn’t see Sam until she crossed in front of the archway that led to the kitchen. A flash of blonde hair, and a pale blue sweater over the jeans he always wanted to peel off her.

Hauling ass, he sidestepped Daniel to get to her just as the chorus hit, and serenaded her with it in front of God and everybody. Mostly Vala and Teal’c.

“Then I saw her face!”

“Indeed, O’Neill. She is standing direct—“

“Now I’m a believer!” He grabbed a banana from the counter to use as a microphone.

“Samantha, darling, does he do this sort of thing often?”

“Not a trace“ —he heard Mitchell start to back him up with guitar noises— “of doubt in my mind! C’mon, you know the words! I’m in love—“

“Ooooooh, I’m a believer…” the rest of them finally joined in and Jack let the group momentum take over as he handed his banana mike over to a puzzled Teal’c and snagged Sam’s hand to spin her into a slight dip.

Her smile gave him life.

Shrek was one of their shared favorite movies as a family. But Cassie had known that the correct version of the song to pick was the one by The Monkees. Good kid. Great kid.

“Okay,” he conceded as he restored his wife to a secure, upright position. “Maybe a housewarming party wasn’t the worst idea.”

Sometime between “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and “Get Up Offa That Thing,” Cam figured out the playlist theme.

“You’re going by year, aren’t you?”

Cassie tipped her half-empty margarita glass at him in a boozy salute. “Pretty much. Late sixties to late eighties. So it spans both of their musical eras.”

“Ouch. Did you tell them that?”

“No. Not really.”

“If anyone asks,” he recommended, “just say they’re golden oldies. Or…historical bangers. I don’t know. Anything but what you just said. Trust me.”

“Trust you about what?” Carolyn piped up. She’d been abandoned in the central corner of the sectional, when Daniel and Vala went off to find more drinks.

“I was just complimenting the playlist.”

“Slappin’ Sing-along Sounds of the Late Twentieth Century: a Musical Retrospective,” Cecilia proposed. She, like Cassie, was in grad school.

“Perfect!” Cam was relieved. Not only had they safely reframed the playlist, it was clear that Cassie had snagged a keeper.

Then the music changed, and Cam and Carolyn locked eyes in tipsy faux horror.

“Oh no. ABBA.” She knocked back about half of her remaining wine in one gulp.

“You got a problem with ABBA?” Cass looked ready to come to blows, and Cam rushed to reassure her.

“No, no. ABBA’s great. But Sam and Vala have had drinks. This could get loud.”

“Amusing,” Carolyn qualified. “But loud.”

It already was, and remained so. The two ladies crooned all the words and hit remarkably few true notes as they swung each other around the still-unfurnished breakfast room. Daniel rolled in to join them on the first chorus while playing, appropriately but unexpectedly, an actual tambourine he’d found somewhere in the half-unpacked house.

Halfway through the song, Carolyn frowned over the rim of her wine glass. “Huh. She’s…underage. I never thought about that before. What’s a seventeen year old doing in a nightclub?”

Cam finished his swig of beer before listening to the lyrics with fresh ears and coming to the same slightly jarring conclusion.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.” She looked down at her wine. “Well. The seventies, I guess.”

Cam nodded, then lifted his bottle in a toast. “The seventies.”

“O’Neill. Why have all the Tau’ri in attendance just expressed a need for additional cowbell?”

Jack opened his mouth, clapping a hand onto Teal’c’s vast shoulder, then closed his mouth and shook his head. “T, buddy, some things, you need more context than I have time to explain tonight. Ask me again tomorrow if you still remember this.”

“I will remember. I am the designated driver for General Mitchell and Doctor Lam this evening.”

“Awesome! ‘Cause the way things are looking I doubt we’d have enough spare beds and couches for all three of you.”

Teal’c nodded thoughtfully, then raised an eyebrow as Vala draped herself over his shoulder, whispering loudly enough for Jack to hear over the music and general merriment.

“Muscles. Help me out, won’t you? You’ve been here longer. Why does Daniel keep talking about needing cowbells?”

“I am uncertain as well.”

“Ask me tomorrow,” Jack repeated.

Vala snorted, leaning more of her weight against Teal’c arm. “I very much doubt I’ll remember this tomorrow.”

After a moment, Teal’c determined no further information was forthcoming from his host. “I will help you locate Daniel Jackson.”

She patted his arm and smiled up at him fondly. “I’d follow you anywhere, big boy.”

Perhaps at the next gathering he would remember to suggest that Doctor Lam serve as designated driver.

Good ol’ Clapton came through for Jack, just when he’d started to fear there would be no more slow songs. Excusing himself from Mitchell and Jackson in the living room, he snagged Sam’s hand on the way through to the breakfast room.

Carolyn waved as her conversation partner was spirited away. “Okay. Bye. Make good choices.”

“I think we’ve made some excellent choices,” Jack murmured to Sam as he tugged her into his arms and started swaying to the music. “Including the choice to hold off on getting the new table and chairs for in here.”

“Maybe we should just keep it this way.” Sam tucked her head against his shoulder, and her contented sigh against his neck raised goosebumps down his entire left side.

“Works for me. At least we popped for the big sectional, people can always eat sitting there. And I say, yes, you look wonderful tonight. Seriously, you do, I’m not just singing that.”

“Mmmm. In this old thing?”

“Mmmhmm. Those jeans that make it impossible not to notice you have an ass that won’t quit.”

She laughed into his shoulder, squeezing him closer, and the goosebumps tried to start a riot.

“It may not quit, but it is on extended leave except for our anniversary, your birthday, and Christmas.”

“Christ, Samantha, there’s a house full of people here.” None of them were remotely interested in their dance, however. He turned her so her back was to the breakfast room windows. “So you should keep a lookout over my shoulder.”

Then he grabbed a handful of the butt in question, startling a gasp and another laugh from her. Different laugh, though.

More goosebumps.

“Jack…this isn’t our anniversary, your birthday, or Christmas.”

“True, but hear me out.”

To his delight and consternation, she nuzzled closer and whispered in his ear, “Oh, I’m listening. And nobody’s in my sight line.”

Groaning softly, he slid his hand down to the crease between her cheek and thigh and squeezed again so she would make another sound he particularly liked. Then, since it was only a matter of time before somebody needed a drink refill and barged into the kitchen, he reluctantly returned his hand to the relatively safe zone of the small of her back. Under the sweater, though; they were married, after all, and this was their house.

“We didn’t actually do that on our anniversary this year,” he reminded her. “So I owe you one.”

“Hmm. And that’s always more like three or four, honestly.” She ran her nails through the bristles at the nape of his neck, and he was almost relieved when the song changed to something more upbeat because there was still that house full of people to consider. More slow dancing would have been a terrible idea.

“Why did we decide to have a housewarming party, anyway?”

Pulling away enough to let him see her beautiful, slightly flushed face, she nodded toward the living room. “We love them. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. All that bonding…filial…stuff.” Honestly, if he’d known he would get to slow dance and get handsy with her, while engaging in some extremely promising banter, he’d have suggested the party himself. “I guess we should get back to all that.”

“Probably so, yeah. Thank you for the dance, though. I love you.” She brushed her lips against his only briefly, probably sensing that anything more might get them in trouble. “This is turning into a great party.”

He watched her saunter back into the living room, then heard her join the next rousing shout of, “Rooooooxanne!”

Great party indeed.

Now where the hell had he left his beer?

Earth, despite the uninspired name, could be quite an interesting planet. Vala had done her best to learn the culture, to blend in at least somewhat, and loving most of the music had helped considerably with that.

But Daniel was the first to admit—well, rarely the first, but he would eventually admit—he was no bastion of pop cultural knowledge. Sometimes he was no help at all.

“I really don’t know,” he insisted again, shifting her in his lap so he could reach for his drink. “I’m not sure even the B-52’s guy who wrote it knows.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Seriously? How the worm has turned.”

She plucked his glass from his hands and took a hefty sip, grimacing at the taste. She hadn’t realized he’d switched to some sort of bourbon concoction. “Now you’re calling me a worm? That seems unfair. And possibly racist, given the company. Or is this some sort of fetish thing?”

Predictably, and as intended, he growled. “Vala…”

“You have only yourself to blame if I take my affections elsewhere, to somebody who’ll be pleased to share their knowledge instead of withholding it.” She looked around the room. “General?”

Sam, Jack, and Cameron all swiveled their heads toward her, which she couldn’t help but giggle at. A lot. It was entirely possible she’d had more to drink than she previously realized.

“Hmm.” Which general should she choose to maximize Daniel’s irritation? “General O’Neill, I think.” When she made to get up, Daniel held her firmly in place.

“You’re not going anywhere. I’m not even sure you’re safe to walk around right now.”

She knew as well as he did that wasn’t the reason. He was keeping her there to hide the erection she’d spent the last ten minutes or so steadily provoking.

“Fine. Jack, would you be so kind as to simply tell me why this man is singing so intensely about a lobster?”

Look over there…

“Where?!”

“This song choice is a little…pointed, don’t you think?”

Cassie suppressed a smirk—difficult—and attempted an innocent expression. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Jack gestured vaguely with his beer bottle. “Did you, what…Google stalker songs of the eighties or something? You couldn’t just go straight for “I’ll Be Watching You”?

“I just looked up the Billboard top 100. You’re probably projecting. You may need to process that.”

He frowned, glaring from her to Ceci and back again. “Feels like you’re in cahoots to me.”

“Who still says cahoots?”

“Who almost marries a gorilla?”

“Uh, Sam. Duh.”

“Aha! So it was pointed!”

Ceci joined the room in shouting, “Where?!”

Cassie let the smirk come out, which was kind of a relief. It had been making her cheeks hurt to restrain it. “Did you stop to consider maybe you’re not the one it was pointed at, though?”

“Huh? Who else would it be—“

She held up a hand, then shifted her gaze very obviously to Sam, who was standing across the living room talking to Dr. Lam, but looking back at Cassie with a distinctly unamused expression on her face.

“Ohhh.”

Giving Sam a broad grin and two thumbs-up, Cass returned her attention to Jack.

“You think you were the only one who hated that dude? I think Grandpa Jake was this close to hiring somebody to off him.”

“Oh, no. He would have definitely done that job himself.”

That was finally enough to draw Ceci in.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, Sam was…” Cassie paused, looking at her girl and being stunned, as always, by how amazing she looked. “Wow, you’re really cute when you’re tipsy but politely horrified.” She leaned in to kiss the tip of Ceci’s nose, and Ceci went slightly cross-eyed trying to focus on her face, which was somehow even cuter.

“Ahem.”

“Sorry, Jack. But, you know. Not sorry.” Even Jack couldn’t make her feel apologetic about kissing her fiancée when she was being that cute. “Okay, so Sam was engaged to this guy—“

“A gorilla, as the song says.”

“Gorilla libel. Anyway…this gorilla named Pete, before she and Jack got together. And literally all of us thought he was a massive tool.”

“Oh, okay.” Ceci nodded. “That was the something goin’ wrong around here, then. And everybody was, like, is she really going out with him?”

“Exactly. What’s weird is, it seemed like even Sam kinda thought he was a tool? She had to apologize for him all the time. Like…objectively he was a tool.”

Jack nodded. “Massive. I never stalked her about it, though. I was seeing somebody else at the time. Mostly.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have helped hide the body.”

He raised his eyebrows, then smiled that weird blank-eyed smile he sometimes got. “Cassandra, you don’t have to hide a body if you have access to the right fuel and engines that burn it at hotter than a thousand degrees Celsius. And a more or less infinite area in which to take stuff. For…burning.”

“Wow.” Ceci looked impressed, but probably for the wrong reasons. “That’s really specific.”

“Yes. It is.”

“Probably one of those things I’m not supposed to ask you to elaborate on, huh?”

Cassie and Jack said, “Yep,” in unison.

As soon as Daniel heard the familiar piano intro, he braced himself.

“Oh no.”

“ABBA!”

“Oh, not again.” He grunted as Vala pushed off from his lap, suddenly not half as drunk as she’d seemed five seconds earlier.

“Samantha! Samantha, where are you? The first solo’s always yours. ”

In socks, Sam slid into the room from the kitchen like the kid from Risky Business, clutching a banana microphone.

“I don’t wanna talk…about the things we’ve gone through…”

“Oh, here we go.” Jack pulled up one of the folding chairs they’d deployed for the party, giving himself a front row seat.

Daniel clutched his glass defensively. “I’m not moving.”

“Suit yourself.” Jack smiled like the cat who got the cream as Sam started circling him like a torch singer, trailing her fingertips over his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair, before returning to Vala and passing off the banana mic for the second verse.

“I was in your arms…”

Daniel could see it coming a mile away. “You better not sit on his lap.”

Vala sat in Jack’s lap.

“I figured it made sense, building me a fence…”

Jack leaned back with his arms behind his head, looking absolutely uninterested in anything but Sam, who had retrieved another banana and was holding it…in a way people shouldn’t hold bananas in a room full of other people.

Spotting her, Vala made a move Daniel couldn’t really complain about, hopping up to rejoin her and singing the chorus directly to her while theatrically caressing her face.

It was uncomfortably close to some dreams he’d had, but he’d never admit that out loud.

When Sam took the lead back over she went straight back to Jack, while shaking her finger at Vala.

“But tell me, does she kiss…like I used to kiss you? Does it feel the same…when she calls your name?”

Jack, looking appropriately chagrined, tugged her down to his lap.

By the time they hit the big semi-climactic round of the chorus again, and Sam got up to rejoin Vala, the other ladies were all doing the background “oooos.”

Cam moved away from them and sat beside Daniel. “Can we blame Mamma Mia for this?”

“No. They were like this before. Liquor and ABBA are just a potent combination.”

To the surprise of all the men, but apparently not the women, Carolyn slunk up to take the mic for the final, sad, slow verse, ignoring the men and playing it up outrageously to Vala and Sam in turns.

Jack had stretched his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, soaking it all in with such obvious enjoyment that Daniel was almost envious.

Not because the three ladies were clearly feeding into his performance as he fed into theirs, but because of how he took the whole thing in stride with such obvious confidence.

Other things, Jack might have doubted in his time, but he had clearly never doubted that if Sam was going to sit on anybody’s lap during impromptu drunk karaoke, it would be his. Or that she was only teasing when she acted miffed about Vala borrowing said lap. He could enjoy watching their two wives and Carolyn Lam practically make out, without seeming to worry at all that they might sneak off and actually make out.

Applause broke out as the number concluded, and Vala zipped over to whisper something to Cassie, who nodded and scrambled for the iPad on the coffee table.

Vala returned to the couch, grinning as she draped herself over Daniel’s lap again, her back pressed against his front. She was warm, and happy, and he loved her an unreasonable amount. He reminded himself that she’d done nothing but pursue him since they’d met, and still seemed thrilled to have caught him, even after several years of marriage and two children. And that it was just possible the problem wasn’t her trustworthiness, but his own insecurities rising to the surface when he’d had a few too many drinks.

She twisted around to kiss him on the cheek. “Here’s a little treat, for you and Cameron.”

Driving synth and nasty guitar burst from the speakers, and Cam jumped up with a whoop and grabbed the banana from Vala. Then he lifted her out of Daniel’s lap and sat her on the couch as casually as if she were a throw pillow.

“C’mon, Jackson! On your feet! We do not stay seated for Billy Idol! Find a mic!”

Daniel was already up and calling to Sam to throw him her banana by the time Cam raised his own.

“Last night a little dancer came dancin’ to my door…”

Sam was one hundred percent in love with the playlist until it all came to a screeching halt for her after Annie Lennox faded out on the final bars of Sweet Dreams, and an all-too-deeply ingrained beat dropped into the subsequent silence. Her stomach dropped right along with it.

Missing you…

Missing you…

Those opening bars took her straight back to a horrible three months when she’d listened to that song almost nonstop, and heard it in her mind even in dead silence. She couldn’t shake it. It had been the soundtrack to her fixation and misery, and even after all this time it conjured a memory of not only her aching heart but of the best friend who saw straight through her and ached along with her. Who’d laughed and cried when Sam—much later—admitted she’d survived that period on mostly coffee and this one song on repeat. The best friend who should be with her right now, helping her refill the chip bowl, laughing about how quickly they’d gone through the olives, and beaming with love and pride for the amazing adult her daughter had become. Reminding them to drink water and take ibuprofen before they went to sleep, because they were all going to be so hung over.

Every time I think of you, I always catch my breath…

As if he’d read her mind, Jack materialized in the kitchen. He didn’t have to say anything. Just waited for Sam to take his hand and lead him to their temporary dance floor.

He didn’t talk, but he kissed her hair as they started dancing, and then he looked her in the eyes and sang along too softly for anyone else to hear.

“I hear your name in certain circles, and it always makes me smile…”

She couldn’t help but smile back, although tears were already falling. He swept them from her cheeks and stopped singing long enough to press a soft kiss to her lips.

She didn’t regret a single second of the effort she’d spent on getting him back home.

“I love your voice. I wish you would sing more.”

“This old thing?”

They both chuckled, and she let him tuck her back against his chest again as he picked up the melody.

They’d talked about this. They had long since moved past what had happened at the end of his time on Edora and after she brought him home. He’d thanked her countless times to make up for the thanks he couldn’t give her when he should have back then. And in the same circumstances, she would do it all again. But that couldn’t erase the pain of living through those three months, of everyone believing he was beyond her ability to save, of finally even starting to lose belief in herself. And then learning that in the meantime, he’d lost all faith in her.

It couldn’t erase the pain she couldn’t talk about, of knowing that Janet was in her corner through it all, and not even being able to acknowledge at the time just how good a friend she’d been. Because that would mean acknowledging why Sam was really so lost while Jack was lost, and they all knew she couldn’t do that. Janet was gone before Sam could ever right that wrong.

She’d told him all about it one night early in their marriage, when “Missing You” had come on the car radio and she’d burst into unexpected, mortifying tears. The whole story had tumbled out, and they’d both had some uneasy moments of reliving that trauma. But afterward she’d felt clean. Lighter, somehow.

Sometimes you just needed to cry about things.

Hearing a sniffle, Sam looked up to see Cassie standing awkwardly nearby, hands twisted together, eyes bright with unshed tears. Sam had forgotten she even knew about this song, but now she realized Cassie hadn’t included it by accident.

Jack reached out and pulled Cass into their hug, and the three of them swayed gently and cried quietly.

He held them together through it all, somehow. Made it better, somehow, than it had ever been without him. Said the right thing without it sounding trite. “She would’ve been so proud of you, kiddo.”

“I know.” Cassie’s voice was barely a little-girl whisper.

Sam nodded, straining to get herself under control.

“She would have loved Ceci, too, honey.” She wrapped her arm tighter around Cassie’s shoulder. “There would’ve been no stopping the two of them.”

Cassie chuckled through a gentle sob. “I know. God, they would have been a real menace.” She hugged them both tighter. “I’m really glad you guys moved back here.”

“Of course we did,” Jack said. “It was time to come home.”

Cassie had set them up, it seemed, one sub-group at a time. From hardest to easiest. Daniel got misty-eyed when he heard “The Promise” start playing and immediately found Sam, so they could cry-dance-sing together about how the song had always reminded them both of Janet.

“When your day is through, and so is your temper…”

Sam picked up the line. “You know what to do, I’m gonna always be there.”

Neither of them could sing or dance worth a damn, and Sam was already cried out anyway. But that meant she was able to be there for Daniel as he melted down then pulled himself back together.

A few songs later, when she finally heard the one she’d been expecting, Sam found Cassie’s eyes across the room and raised her glass. Cass blew a kiss in return. And everyone else gradually recalled that even though it was kind of a ridiculous song, and the grammar was all wrong, Janet had loved “Everything I Do (I Do It For You).” But not in a way that made anybody cry about it. The ones who most needed to mourn their absent friend had already shed those tears for the evening, thanks to Cassie’s thoughtful orchestration.

They all toasted to Janet, but with lighter hearts than they once had. And those who knew were classy enough not to point out that the main reason she’d loved this song was that she’d found Alan Rickman incredibly hot in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

But they recognized each other by their knowing glances and their slightly deeper smiles, and it made the moment all the richer and sweeter.

Sometimes, you just needed to laugh about things.

She hadn’t worked with all of them, but Carolyn knew each of the people in the new O’Neill-Carter house well enough to say that every single one of them was rock solid. Good to the bone—even Vala, in her way.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe in a room full of people, physically or emotionally. God knows it had never felt like this in her own home. Not the one she grew up in, not the one she’d tried to make with her ex, and definitely not the one she lived in now, alone, because she was so tired of trying to figure out how to make it work with another person.

There was just so much history, and so much love, packed into these rooms.

Cam and General O’Neill were kicked back on the long side of the giant sectional, talking at each other over Kenny Loggins, loudly agreeing as they outdid each other with tales of how Air Force pilots were far superior to Navy pilots, and Top Gun should’ve featured the real airmen.

“Danger Zone, my ass,” the general railed. “And that goddamn Kawasaki.”

It clearly wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion.

Sam (I need to remember to call her General Carter now…but that’s so many generals in one house) was leaning over the kitchen island laughing with Vala, Cassie, and Cassie’s fiancée, as they dished up the cake that General O’Neill had apparently insisted on for the party. Cassie and Cecilia had made it earlier in the day, and it looked fantastic.

“And you got her to clean the kitchen!” Sam counted out forks, smiling at both young women. “How did you convince her to do that? Or is it better not to ask?”

“Sam!” Cassie was blushing an interesting, mottled red.

“Hey, just curious.”

With an admirable deadpan, Cecilia shrugged. “Okay. So, Sam, have you seen the movie Secretary?”

“Ceci!”

Sam and Cecilia were different ages, heights, ethnicities, and overall types. But when they grinned at each other over Cassie’s irate head, they looked remarkably similar.

It was a rarity to see Vala being the quiet one in any group. She’d already started on her slice of cake, though, and was eyeing Daniel speculatively through the archway.

Daniel sat with Teal’c on the floor in front of the television and surrounding built-ins, carefully sorting through a box of what appeared to be video games.

“Classic alphanumeric order,” Daniel insisted. “Everybody understands that.”

Teal’c looked supremely unperturbed by Daniel’s tone. “Arrangement by game type allows one to see similar games one might also wish to play.” He slid a plastic case onto a still-empty shelf. “It is a superior system, Daniel Jackson.”

“You’re putting Mario Kart 8 first. That’s…that’s insane.”

She hid her snort of laughter at the sound of Dr. Jackson getting more and more tightly wound. Teal’c was possibly even better at riling him up than General O’Neill. Probably because Teal’c always seemed to be operating in good faith, even when he was clearly having a grand old time making the veins on Daniel’s temples pop out.

“Danger Zone” finally ended, to be replaced by a mournful power-ballad piano and Ann Wilson’s iconic voice floating out from her pitch-dark room, with the ticking of the clock and no answer on the telephone.

Vala appeared by the two men, bearing a plateful of cake and twiddling a fork in a manner that somehow managed to look seductive instead of silly.

“Daniel, look. Come and share this cake with me.” Her voice was pure velvet.

Daniel was apparently a lot dumber than he looked, or maybe he was inured due to regular exposure. “Okay, as soon as I finish this.”

In the kitchen, Cassie and Ceci were hugging Sam and Jack; they disappeared with a big slice of cake each, apparently done for the evening.

With the tiniest, fondest eye roll and an apologetic smile for Teal’c, Vala took a step closer to her husband and nudged his thigh with one toe.

“Daniel.”

He looked up this time, and once she had his attention she dragged the times of her fork through the frosting and then brought it up to her mouth. She took the daintiest lick before repeating, “Come and share this cake with me.”

“Oh. Uh, okay. Teal’c, I’m gonna go…eat some cake.” Unfolding himself up from the floor as smoothly as a marionette on strings, he followed Vala to the far corner of the couch previously monopolized by Cassie and Ceci.

From the way he and Vala were eyeing the plate and each other, Carolyn was pretty sure she didn’t want to watch them share cake. Or rather, she would have gladly paid to watch them share cake, but not like this. On the internet, like a normal person with normal, healthy needs.

Cam ambled over with a huge slice of cake and slumped down beside her just as Ms. Wilson’s lyrical soprano rose in that age-old plaintive query: How do I get you alone?

“Carolyn, you notice anything weird about this party all of a sudden?”

She tracked the direction of his nod toward the kitchen, where General Number One was holding General Number Two’s chin like a delicate teacup and saying something that made General Number Two blush even redder than Cassandra had, shortly before she and her future wife had abandoned the party to the olds.

When General O’Neill smiled like a hot silent movie villain and started slowly coaxing Sam towards the breakfast room where they’d been having General Prom all night, Carolyn sat back and stared at Cam’s cake, which seemed like the safest thing to focus on.

Wow. They still had it. She had not needed to know that.

“Maybe,” she mused, “Heart and cake is like alcohol and ABBA. It just…overcomes you.”

“Intriguing theory, Doctor. Noted, for the next time I want to throw a make-out party.”

Carolyn chuckled, then sighed. She would have loved to be remotely into Cam Mitchell, especially at that moment, but they’d sort of tried dating a few times and it hadn’t worked. Nothing but sibling vibes. He was unbelievably hot, gainfully employed, as close to a grown-up Boy Scout as they came, a bona fide battle hero, and had a great sense of humor. He was basically Captain America without the snazzy outfit or superhuman endurance—as she could attest to, having patched him up too many times to count. For which reason, she was also aware that he had more than adequate equipment.

Her father would have been beside himself with joy about it, too, if they’d gotten together. But when she looked at Cam now, even through an alcohol veil and surrounded by hot people sort of fooling around when they shouldn’t, the most enticing thing about him was the giant slice of cake.

That, she wanted very badly.

“Is it safe to eat, do you think?”

“I dunno.” He poked it with his fork. “Maybe the magic only works if you already want to get the person alone. Go for it, Alice. See if it makes you grow or shrink.”

Breaking a small piece off with her fingers, she raised it in a mock toast, then took a bite.

“Mmm. Mmmmm.”

“Good?”

“Mhhhmmn.” It was better than good. Spice cake with a rich penuche frosting, that tasted of butter and cream and all the things she cautioned people against eating. “Mmm.”

“So? Do you want to jump me?”

She swallowed and licked her lips, trying to catch every last crumb. “No. But if there were a cake that made people want to make out, it would definitely taste like this.”

“All right. I’m in, then.”

“Down the hatch.”

He ate a forkful, making the same yummy noises she had. Then he waited for side effects.

“Anything?”

He looked over at her almost hopefully and gave her a once-over. From anybody else it would have seemed like leering, but from Cam it just felt like he was looking at her.

Finally he shrugged. “Sorry. It’s not that you’re not hot.”

“Oh, I know.”

Side-eye from Cam.

She smacked his upper arm and stole another chunk of cake. “I mean I know that isn’t the reason. But also, it’s okay to be aware of your own hotness. You’re hot. I’m hot. But we, together, are not.”

She had always known she was beautiful, even though she usually didn’t say it. You weren’t supposed to say it. But she’d never seen it as much of an asset. She’d grown up watching what beauty did for her mother, and frankly, she wasn’t interested.

“We don’t hit,” Cam scolded. “But I gotcha. So quit eating my cake and get your own, then, why don’t you?” But he grinned to let her know there were no hard feelings.

“I think a few bites of that is enough for any one person.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of your arteries hardening.”

Then they both paused as the music changed, and started laughing about the same time almost everyone else did.

“It doesn’t match the rest of the playlist,” Cam said, “but it’s the perfect choice. That girl knows her folks.”

“She does indeed.” Teal’c said, standing and patting his pockets in search of keys.

Jack—rosy-cheeked with rumpled hair—had emerged from the breakfast room and was listening incredulously.

“This is…an actual song? I can just play this at the end and everyone has to go home?”

“No,” Daniel corrected, rousing himself from his cake daze in the couch corner. “It specifically says they don’t have to go home. But they can’t stay here.”

“I know who I want to take me home,” Vala sang with a smirk, sashaying back to the kitchen with the empty plate, twirling her fork with a triumphant air.

“But we’re staying here,” Daniel reminded her. He pushed himself up from the couch with a groan. “I ate too much. And drank too much. Why does the guest room have to be all the way upstairs?”

“You should all take some Advil and drink a big glass of water before you go to sleep,” Carolyn reminded them. “And B vitamins may help, too.” It hadn’t been clinically validated in any legitimate way, but it had sure helped her in college.

Jack took the plate from Vala automatically as she passed by. “This is the greatest party song of all time. One that ends the party. Why didn’t anyone inform me of this?”

Sam patted his cheek in passing, then stacked the plate he was holding on top of hers. “We couldn’t trust you with that kind of power.”

Her lipstick was completely gone, but her lips were flushed a deep pink, and her hair was a mild disaster. Her voice sounded almost like a purr. Carolyn tried hard to pre-forget it, so she wouldn’t find herself thinking about it at work.

Jack didn’t look especially put out by Sam’s comment, if he’d even heard it. “I love this song. This was a great party, Carter.”

General Number Two smiled at him, lighting up the room, as she dumped the plates in the dishwasher and started hugging everyone goodbye. And General Number One hardly took his eyes off her, even as he obediently started making the goodbye-rounds as well.

Good for you, new boss. Good for you.

Jack leaned over the island, enjoying the sudden chill of the granite against his face. But he couldn’t look at Sam that way, and he liked looking at Sam, so he picked his head up again.

He felt absolutely wonderful. Especially now that everybody except Sam had gone away.

Maybe too wonderful.

“What was in that cake?”

Sam was staring at the cake, possibly wondering the same thing. After a few seconds, she slid the stand towards herself and cut a thin piece, eating it with her fingers and rolling her eyes at the taste.

Finally, she swallowed and answered him. “Love. And diversity.”

“Cute.”

“Thanks. You’re pretty cute yourself. I should put this in a thingy, shouldn’t I? The lid to the stand broke when I was unpacking. But I don’t remember where the big food thingies are.”

Some problems were very easy to solve. He knew where the plastic wrap was, so he retrieved that and tossed it onto the counter in front of her.

“Here you go. I’ll get the—“ He looked around the sink area. “Where’s the rest of the mess?”

“Mostly already handled. Well before the, ah…Heart incident.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“No, people helped out as they came through. And I needed something to do after…to cheer me back up.”

“Cleaning to cheer yourself up. I’ll take your word for it.”

He turned around again and slid his arms around her waist, feeling each tiny motion in her body as she tugged the wrap off the roll and covered the top of the cake stand with it. Then as she reopened a spot in the wrapping, retrieved the icing-encrusted knife, and repaired the opening.

Plucking the knife from her hand, he left her only long enough to add it to the dishwasher. “Go ahead and start it?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She’d turned to look at him. Or so he flattered himself. Maybe she just liked watching him start the dishwasher or something, but he liked it anyway.

On his way back to her, he pulled his phone from his pocket and poked at it until he found the thing he wanted.

“So, the problem with kids today is lack of attention to detail,” he explained. “That was a good playlist. But they left one off.”

“Did they?”

“Yep. So we need to fix that before we pack it in for the night.”

He set the phone on the counter, tapped the play arrow, and led her back to the breakfast area and into his arms as the music started.

“Oh, you’re right.” She smiled all the way in and kissed him, still smiling. He could taste her happiness, and it was better than cake. “This was a glaring omission. But I thought you didn’t like REO Speedwagon.”

“Oh, I don’t.” He twirled her out, then back in again, taking up the whole space now that nobody was there to see them. “Sappy eighties ballads. Totally lightweight.”

“But…?”

He smirked and slid a hand down past the waistband of her jeans to rest where the flat of her back ended and started to curve.

“But. You like this song. And because of you, I’m no longer able to resist sappy ballads that give me an excuse to dance with you.”

“Oh, smooth.”

“Or sing to you.”

She pulled him tighter, and he started singing. Because it was truly a sappy song, and it wasn’t exactly a song about them anymore, but it had been his song for her for so long it was etched in his mind despite his years of attempting to erase it.

He sang about her being a candle in the window on a cold, dark, winter’s night, because she was that to him and always would be. He sang about bringing this ship into the shore and throwing away the oars forever, because he felt like they were finally doing that.

And then he stopped singing, because she started kissing him, and he had absolutely no reason to fight that feeling anymore.