“Really, Colonel?” Thea responded drolly, tapping a fuschia-tipped finger against her brightly painted lips. “I would never have known.” She laughed at Sam’s moue. “Actually, my dear, I think you could easily have a career in modeling if you chose.”

“Right,” Sam snorted. “Not a chance. T?” She looked up at Teal’c, blue eyes wide and shining. “Anything else we need here?”

“I do not believe so, Samantha.”

“Well, then,” she scooted off his lap with a sigh, “I guess we’re done. You have Thea’s number? In case we think of something else?”

“There’s a business card inside the box. And please don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything else we can do. It’s been a pleasure, Sam. Teal’c. Daniel.” She inclined her head briefly to each of them, smiling all the while.

“Your choices were excellent Theakerrigan. Samantha would have done justice to any of the gowns you chose, but the last was perfection itself.” Teal’c inclined his head regally. “Your time and talent are most appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Thea responded, slightly breathlessly, pansy-purple eyes staring up at Teal’c. “It’s always a pleasure to serve such lovely clients.”

“Teal’c?” Daniel inquired casually as they walked back to his car. “Any chance you’ve run into the lovely Ms. Kerrigan on Earth before?” He hit the lock button on his keychain and popped the trunk.

“None whatsoever, Danieljackson. Why do you ask?”

 Teal’c opened the back seat passenger door for Sam.

Daniel stowed the dress box in the trunk and went around to the driver’s side. “Off-world then?”

Teal’c’s penetrating gaze met thoughtful blue eyes across the roof of the car. “Why would you imagine that is even possible?”

“Do you know her?” Daniel persisted.

Teal’c opened the passenger door and folded his bulk into the front seat, taking his time adjusting his seatbelt before answering. “Theakerrigan is a former resident of Chulak. Her mother worked in Apophis’ palace in a domestic capacity.”

Daniel glanced in the rearview mirror to find Sam staring at him in bewilderment.

“How did you know?” she demanded. Adding, as she thumped Teal’c from behind, “And would you have said anything if Daniel hadn’t?”

“I would not. She is not Goa’uld, nor is she Jaffa. She is merely alien. It is obvious she has made a life for herself here. Why should I betray her?”

“This isn’t about betrayal, Teal’c. Do you have any idea what a can of worms just got opened up?” Daniel pulled his cell phone back out of his pocket. “This is Dr. Jackson, put me straight through to General O’Neill and call Walter to tell him to pick up the phone.”

“Why is this different than our friend Martin? He resides here on Earth without . . .” Teal’c trailed off as Jack’s, “O’Neill,” came over the phone Daniel had punched to speaker.

“Jack? Change of plans. Don’t leave, we’re coming back to the Mountain. We’ll bring the pizza with us.”

“What’s going on? First my phone rings off the hook, then I have Walter in here telling me to answer it. I thought we were going to dinner. Why are you bringing in pizza?”

“We’re on my cell. We’ll tell you when we get there,” Daniel responded. “We should be back in less than half an hour. I’ll call ahead and we can pick up the pizza on the way.”

“Why don’t I just meet you at Woodrow’s then?”

“Shut up and listen to me, please. Don’t leave and don’t let anybody preempt us, this is very important.”

“As in saving the planet important?”

“No,” Daniel sighed in exasperation. “Not saving the planet important. But close. Wait for us.” He snapped the phone shut on Jack’s protests. “Can you call the pizza place, Teal’c, it's #4 on the speed dial.” Daniel handed the phone over to the Jaffa and buckled his seatbelt. “Tell them we’re in a hurry and to put it on my credit card.”

Sam hauled her backpack up from the floor and scrounged through it for green stuff. “I’ve got cash, Daniel.”

“They have my card number on file, this way they can just zip it through the machine and have it waiting for us.”

“You have your credit card number on file with the pizza joint? Daniel, sometimes you are incredibly naïve, but that’s just stupid.”

“Why? We’ve been trusting them with our lives since we came to work here, surely my credit card can’t be any more valuable than that.”

The little pizza place at the base of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex did a roaring business and always accommodated any member of SG-1. Originally because they were all good tippers, but over the course of almost nine years, and particularly after they’d been banned from O’Malley’s, it had become a second home to the members of Stargate Command’s premiere team, individually and collectively.

The place had begun life as a tumbledown, hole-in-the-wall joint badly in need of a new roof. But as the SGC began to get itself situated, so too, had Woodrow’s. Even NORAD had begun to take notice of the little shanty at its base when a bright new coat of paint and a brand new roof accessorized the jumbled collection of add-on dining areas.

Pizzas and cold sodas were waiting at the curb as the trio pulled in, an accommodation reserved for the elite old guard of the SGC. There was even an extra pizza thrown in for free, in honor of the General’s shiny new stars. Pepperoni with double cheese, just the way he always ordered it.

Daniel shoved the pizza boxes at Teal’c, scribbled his autograph on the credit card slip and skinned rubber as he downshifted and tore out of the parking lot.

“I do not understand your need for speed, Danieljackson. From all appearances, Theakerrigan has been established on Earth for some length of time. Her shop came highly recommended by several well-respected Denver entrepreneurs. I do not believe she harbors any malevolence toward your world. I suspect she is as much a refugee as I.”

“Do you think she recognized you, Teal’c?” Sam asked, leaning forward between the bucket seats. “Did you know each other well enough she’ll figure it out, too?”

“Theakerrigan is younger than I by several decades. I knew her only as a child and I remember her only because, like Shau’nac, she was destined for the temple. Perhaps like your Moses in the Tau’ri bible, she was hidden away in time to save her. She was a particularly engaging child.”

“I can see that,” Daniel mused. “So then you think she’s been here most of her life?” he inquired, flashing his pass out the window as he drove through NORAD parking into the SGC lot.

“It is possible, though I do not believe the secret of Earth was common knowledge amongst the inhabitants of the galaxy until you opened your Stargate, Danieljackson.” Teal’c handed off the pizzas to Sam when she opened his door, displaying his usual grimace of displeasure over Daniel’s small, ergonomic vehicle - one turned-down corner of the mobile mouth - as he folded in half to get out.

Daniel took the pizzas from Sam as she signed them all into the Mountain and headed for the elevator. “Hey, Harold, call General O’Neill, will you, and tell him we’re headed for my office. We’ll meet him there.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Jackson.”

“Daniel. It’s just Daniel. How many times do I have to tell you it’s just Daniel.”

“Yes, sir, Dr. Jackson. It’s Daniel, sir.”

“Give it a rest, Daniel,” Sam advised, joining them on the elevator. “The General follows around behind you telling everybody to call you Dr. Jackson. You’re just confusing them.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Daniel punched the button for Level 10 and the express button. “Hey, we got hot pizza here,” he defended, grinning at his teammates. “Besides, we don’t know, we might be under attack.”

“Nice try, troublemaker. We’d have been locked out of the base if we were under attack.” Sam led the way off and across the corridor to the second set of elevators, punching the button for 18 as they boarded, and again hitting the express button. “I’m gonna say you did it if we get yelled at.”

Daniel shrugged. “We’re SG-1, what kind of trouble are we gonna get into?” The words were barely out of his mouth when the klaxons blared, the sound carrying even between floors.

Teal’c passed the six-pack of Mountain Dew to his other hand and glanced at his watch. “It is likely SG-13 returning as scheduled.”

“That General O’Neill runs a tight ship,” Dr. Jackson remarked conversationally. “Even keeps his SG teams on schedule. Let’s all remember to add that to our reports when the Joint Commission hits us up again for evaluations of his command.”

“I still can’t believe they actually asked us to do that,” Sam commented, watching the numbers slide up as the elevator slid down.

“Why not? After Jack himself, we’re usually his worst critics.”

“True enough. But did they really expect us to deliver unbiased opinions?”

Daniel shrugged. “Probably not, but I think they did trust us to be honest.”

“Were you?” Sam prodded.

“Completely,” Daniel replied, poker-faced. “There was no need to lie. Jack dictated my entire report. All I did was type it and sign my name.”

“He did not!” Sam exclaimed. “You’re kidding! Right?”

Teal’c took the pizzas as Daniel began searching his pockets for his key card.

"Does Jack follow me around telling people to call me Dr. Jackson?"

"Touché," Sam retorted, laughing as the door opened.

“Took ya long enough,” General O’Neill tossed the stones he’d been juggling back on top of the pile of papers adorning half the length of the long countertop.

Daniel threw himself at the counter, barely snatching up a small 14th century Ming vase before one of the rocks, rolling down the hill of paperwork in slow motion, smashed into it.

“Shouldn’t leave fragile stuff like that lying around on top of piles of paper, now, should you?” Jack deftly caught a 3rd millennium Jomon figurine and replaced it, upright, in the middle of the counter, well beyond the stack of papers.

“One of these days I’m going to have a heart attack when you do that.” Daniel slumped against the counter, still cradling the vase.

“Do what?”

“Knock things around in here!” Dr. Jackson snarled, carefully settling the Ming well beyond Jack’s arm length. “Please, just keep your hands in your pockets when you come in here!”

“Hey, I didn’t touch either one of those things!”

“The temperature of our sustenance is plummeting while the two of you argue apropos an occasion that has yet to take place.” Teal’c carefully cleared a space on Daniel’s desk to deposit the pizza boxes and soda.

Sam liberated a stack of paper plates from beneath a copy of Budge shoved back in the corner of the closet and handed them out.

“So what happened while you were out wedding gown shopping that necessitated dragging me out of my supervisory meeting with the Archive Department? Thank you, by the way.” General O’Neill hauled up a rolling chair with a foot as he flipped open the tops of the pizza boxes. “Sweet. Extra pepperoni and cheese.”

“On the house, in honor of your not-so-recent promotion, sir,” Sam informed him, plopping several pieces of Daniel’s pineapple and sausage on her plate. “We ran across an acquaintance of Teal’c’s from Chulak in the little shop where I bought my gown.”

“Really?” Jack snagged a soda as he sank down in the chair and scooted back from the desk to make way for Teal’c and Daniel. “From Chulak? Old or new?”

“Her mother worked in Apophis’ palace, her father was a Jaffa under my command.”

“You didn’t tell us that,” Sam accused, around a mouthful of pizza. “Sorry,” she added, when she could speak again without spewing sauce and cheese.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is weird?”

“Oh, how quickly you forget, Dr. Jackson.”

“Yeah, right. Like getting knocked over the head and drugged is something I’m anxious to remember on a daily basis. So I guess the logical conclusion then would be that Mork & Mindy was at least as real as Wormhole Xtreme, right? Maybe Alf, too? And My Favorite Martian.”

“TV Land should have its FCC license revoked,” Jack mumbled. “Yeah, Daniel, I’d put them right up there with Mr. Ed and I Dream of Jeannie.”

“Yes, and anybody in their right mind would put Wormhole Xtreme in the same category.” Daniel shook his head. “Fine. I withdraw my observation.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’re not at all concerned we may have thousands of aliens living on Earth?” He could not, however, leave it alone. Watching the exchange between Thea and Teal’c, feeling the recognition flow between them, had startled him.

“So what if we do? If they’re responsible, contributing citizens – with green cards – who cares?”

Carter snorted. “Green cards, sir?”

Jack shrugged. “Give it a rest, Dr. Jackson. If – by some crazy chance – your theory is right and there are thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of aliens living on Earth – so what? If they haven’t instigated a revolution to take back the Stargate in the last nine years, it’s unlikely they’re going to now, don’t ya think?”

“While I am of a similar opinion on the issue of aliens residing here on Earth, do not underestimate Danieljackson’s theory. He has often been proven correct in his most extreme conjectures. It is conceivable there are many more aliens inhabiting Earth identities than we are aware. The Asgard have clearly been keeping an eye on this planet, perhaps for eons. It is imminently possible others knew of it as well and kept it a secret as a last refuge from the Goa’uld.”

“Fine, as long as they keep their noses clean and remain upstanding citizens, I have no problem with them living here. Is that it? That’s all this big emergency was about?” General O’Neill folded his paper plate into an airplane and pitched it toward the trashcan. “No loft,” he lamented.

“Too much wax, sir,” Carter empathized, bending to pick up the plate that had landed at her feet.

“So, anything else exciting happen while you were out playing without me? You bought a gown, Carter? Gonna model it for us?”

“Already did, sir. Daniel and Teal’c approved it.”

“It’s not too low-cut, not too clingy, not too revealing, Pop.” Daniel, sitting on the side of his desk, caught the plate Sam pitched at him and dumped it in the trashcan between his feet. “You know we’d never let her buy something you wouldn’t approve of. Are you leaving already? Is there any more pizza?”

“There is no remaining sausage and pineapple, what is your next choice?”

“Give me some of Jack’s, I guess. Thanks,” Daniel added, when the weight of the pizza landed on the plate. An authoritative hand snatched at his wrist as he peeled off the first pepperoni.

“Aht! Don’t you dare throw those away!” Jack snatched the dangling pepperoni from between the archeologist’s fingers.

“Napkin, sir?” Carter held one out.

“No, thanks.” O’Neill popped the pieces like bait worms. “Yes, I’m leaving already. You interrupted an important budget meeting. Let me know if anything interesting develops with the alien. Eat the other kind and leave my pepperoni alone.”

“I like green peppers less than I like pepperoni.”

“So pick it off. Does this mean we’re not going to dinner tonight?”

“We just ate pizza.”

“That was just a snack. I’ve got another two hours before I can blow this joint. I’ll be ready to eat by then,” the General suggested wistfully.

“Told you so,” Daniel beamed at Sam. “Jack’s still part of SG-1. Not only that, he misses us.”

Sam laughed lightly. “I don’t have any other plans for this evening. And I’m certain I can find something to do for a couple of hours.”

“I could be here another six or eight,” Daniel sighed.

“You’re not coming back here after dinner tonight. I’m gonna tell the SF’s not to let you in if you do.”

“Jack.”

”Daniel.”

“You wouldn’t.”

General O’Neill took two steps backwards, lifted the phone receiver and dialed a number. “Security, make a big red note on the evening clipboard, Dr. Jackson is not to be allowed back into the Mountain before 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning . . . Yes, I am aware he’s been here the last three nights in a row . . . Thank you.”

Sam nearly spewed her mouthful of soda all over the mountain of papers she’d shoved aside to make room for her plate on the counter.

“We’re under new management; you’re not pulling that crap anymore, Daniel, unless it’s an emergency.”

“Have I ever told you how much it pisses me off when you do things for my own good?”

“D’oh!” Jack just grinned. “Why do you think I do it? See you guys in a couple of hours.”

*  *  *

Sam lifted her hand from her father’s sleeve and wiped it on the tiny handkerchief tucked at the base of her bouquet - a last minute accessory from Teal’c - then shifted the flower-adorned fan to her other hand and blotted the other sweaty palm as they stood waiting in the narthex in front of the closed doors of the sanctuary.

Cassie had informed them, half an hour ago, that she was going to wait in the wardroom with Pete's attendents. Daniel had subsequently informed the remainder of the wedding party said young lady had designs on Pete's youngest brother.

Her attendants had escorted her up from the basement all-purpose room they’d turned into a staging area, to the small lobby of the base chapel. She’d felt secure with her hand tucked into Teal’c’s elbow, his large fingers squeezing hers briefly as he handed her solemnly over to her father.

General O’Neill, looking surprisingly comfortable, not to mention gorgeous, in a tux, had hugged her hard, but said nothing, before stepping back to make way for her train-bearer.

On rising from arranging the gown, Daniel had kissed her lightly, and held her tight for a moment as he'd murmured in her ear, “I hope this day will be everything you’ve dreamed of, Sam, and more."

Had that been just a minute ago? Or an hour?

No, an hour ago she’d been getting dressed. She’d been primly attired in her foundation garments when Teal’c had brought in the dress and helped her into it. Sam had been keenly aware he’d probably seen her in the altogether more times than Pete.

Who’d have imagined the arms that had cradled and shielded her more than once returning through the Stargate injured, could lift the hat with such grace? The massive hands settle it with such finesse? And those long fingers manage the march of the tiny pearl soldiers closing the back of her dress with such exquisite gentleness?

Cassie, perched on a nearby stool, had watched these preceedings with a faint smile. She'd laughingly reminded them of her first encounter with the taciturn Jaffa and the picture she'd drawn of him smiling in an effort to coax her out of hiding. A picture that still held pride of place on Sam's refrigerator door.

Now, standing at the back of the church with just her dad and the closed double doors in front of them, nerves were starting to prickle.

Sam fingered the exquisite, perfectly matched choker of pearls Teal’c had fastened in his last act as clothier. They’d been a gift from Pete the night before, when he picked her up from a day at the spa, courtesy of her father, arranged by Teal’c. Her fiancé had complained they’d left him nothing to do for her besides chauffeur, then, like a magician, conjured the box out of empty air and laid it in her lap.

She took a deep breath and slipped her hand back under her father’s elbow.

Jacob’s head dipped slightly and when he raised it again, his voice resonated with Selmak’s overtones. “I’m snatching this moment from your father, Samantha, because it is unlikely I will be able to do so the rest of day. I want to tell you, in all my years, I have never seen a more beautiful bride. I also want you to know, your father is near to bursting with pride over you. So if it should happen that I am suddenly flopping around on the floor looking for another host, you will understand why.”

Humor from Selmak? Sam gawked, then snickered as her shimmering nerves settled. “Oh god, I hope not! And thank you, Selmak.”

“You know I’d make any sacrifice for you, my girl, just as your father would.” Selmak urged his host forward and touched his lips to a glowing cheek. “I love you, too, you know.”

Sam was smiling widely as her father adjusted his tux jacket with a wink. “Same here, kiddo. Are we ready to do this?” Jacob patted the hand tucked under his left elbow.

“I’m ready.”

The clarion notes of a solo trumpet drenched the still air and on cue, the wide double doors swung inward.

Jacob took two steps forward and stopped, framing them in the doorway as flashes ignited all over the congregation.

It was a moment out of time. Snapshots, both visual and audible - like a series of photos drying on a darkroom line - superimposed themselves on Sam’s vision.

The stunning bouquet of hothouse orchids cascading over the top and sides of a silk-draped pillar - exotic, like Janet; the stumbling hitch of Pete’s heart flickering briefly across his face as she appeared in the open doors; the nearly imperceptible flash of green palmed between the General and Daniel; Teal’c’s unsmiling face and suspiciously bright eyes; the collective sigh of the congregation as they turned en masse to see the bride.

Indestructible Kodak moments indelibly archived in her memory cache.

The sustained note of the trumpet fanfare fell away, creating a moment of silence so profound it glistened with perfection. The beauty burst into the crystal notes of Trumpet Voluntary, showering the hushed congregation with awe as they rose deferentially.  

Jacob moved forward and Sam’s slipper-shod feet moved her forward with him. Every eye followed her progress down the length of the football-field-long aisle – or so it felt – though in reality it was less than the distance between the window wall of the embarkation room and the Stargate.

Pete’s attendants, his dad and two brothers, were grinning like Cheshire cats. His fourth attendent, a fellow police officer from his Denver precinct, was staring out over the audience as though trying to match up faces with wanted posters.

Pete was coming down the center steps to meet her. To shake her father’s hand and take his place at her side. His fingers were shaking as he raised her hand to his lips before tendering his elbow and wrapping those shaking fingers over hers as she took his arm.

“I love you, lady,” he murmured. “You make me weak in the knees in BDUs, but this—” he sucked in his breath. “This dress - makes my heart go pitter patter.”

On the chancel dais the base chaplain stepped forward. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

“We do,” Jacob and the remainder of SG-1 recited in unison.

Gentle, audible amusement swept the congregation.

Pete just grinned. He hadn’t expected the traditional question at all, but the answer was no surprise. He handed her up the steps, gathering up the train of her gown and arranging it again before stepping up to face her so they were in profile to the audience.

“Beautiful,” he said again, taking her bouquet to hand to Cassie so he could hold both her hands.

“Sam and Pete have asked that before we begin, we pause to share a moment of remembrance, as family and friends, in memory of those near and dear who are not here this afternoon,” Chaplain Winters informed the congregation. “I’ve asked Sam’s permission to read her tribute to the two people she’s missing most today. You’re welcome to turn your programs over and follow along if you’d like.”

Sam grimaced slightly. She was a writer of reports, of theoretical treatises and hypothetical conjecture. She dealt in facts and figures, probabilities and if/thans; emotional paradigms were right up there with girly-girl things like choosing wedding gowns and flowers. She’d never imagined, the day she’d gone down to Daniel’s office to beg for help, that a couple of paragraphs would stir such grief and at the same time bring such healing.

She raised her gaze to Pete and found him smiling tenderly. He understood the labor pains she’d endured trying to birth these few lines. His fingers gripped hers strongly, reassuringly.

Chaplain Winters’ resonant voice carried easily, filling the small, sacred space with his vivid interpretation of Sam’s words. “No one can fill a mother’s shoes on a day like today; no one can bestow advice or offer counsel like a mother on this day. No one can fill the empty space of her absence on a day like today. Mom, I miss you and wish you were here, standing with Dad, but your love has encompassed me through every rite of passage and I know in my heart that you are here in all the ways that count, just as you have always been here for me when I needed you most. Love transcends every tragedy, transforms every sorrow and seeds the most perfect relationships. I learned that from you and I’m holding that thought close today, even as I miss you by my side.”

“Janet, my dearest friend, of the all the things I miss about you not being here, the thing I miss the most is your impudence. I’ll miss the light of your smile and your audacious wink when Pete slides the ring on my finger. I’ll miss your wicked chuckle when I stumble over my vows in my nervousness. And I’ll miss that risqué repertoire you saved for very special wedding receptions. Although that chapter of our lives closed without resolution, I know in my heart even though you are not standing beside me, your presence here in this place is a given, that your joy in the moment is as great as mine. But I miss you, especially today.”

Chaplain Winters paused briefly, glancing first at the bridal pair, then out over the audience.

Sam smiled at Pete, remembering turning from collecting her copy off the printer. Daniel had wordlessly opened his arms as grief, fresh and frighteningly raw, had poured out of Sam. No military stoicism had been expected or allowed and the sluice would not be closed again. He'd refused to let her go when she’d first drawn back, more than a little embarrassed and confused.  

Dr. Jackson, the consummate observer, had coaxed the hidden heartache from its camouflaged blind just by helping her find words to share the reawakened ache that on this day of all days, two of the most important people in her life would not be here to share it with her.

“Mom - Janet – I love you both,” Winters paused again, finishing quietly, “Sam.”

A shaft of sunlight speared the rose window behind the chancel. The colored glass splintered and refracted the rays, showering the bridal party with sundrops of confetti. It sprayed out over the congregation, dancing with joyous abandon among the guests, splashing a face with vivid sunshiny yellow, painting a shoulder the color of wild roses, briefly tinting the bald head of General Hammond a striking lilac.

“Sam?" Cassie barely breathed her name, but she heard it and turned her head. “I think my mom has just offered her blessing on your union.”

The golden shaft bent to encompass the pillar of hothouse orchids in a shimmering haze, the rosebuds dangling from multilength gold ribbons on Sam’s bouquet, still in Cassie's hands, began to sway as though plucked by a breeze and Cassie's upswept hair tumbled down in a mass of wavy curls. Janet had always liked it best down.

Sam smiled widely. Pete just shook his head and returned her smile with an ear-to-ear grin. “You people are something else,” he whispered.

Chaplain Winters would have given his right arm to know what they really did under NORAD. The rumors usually surrounding any top-secret project were curiously lacking regarding the Cheyenne Mountain facility. In a world of anomalies, that was extremely abnormal.

The groom leaned slightly toward him and murmured good-naturedly, “Hey, I have to get through this part before I can get to the good stuff tonight, so can we get on with this already?”

Right, he had a wedding to perform. As far as he knew, twinkling lights and non-existent angel choirs had never come under military purview; whatever was happening in his sanctuary had nothing to do with Cheyenne Mountain or deep space telemetry.

Winters blinked and shook his head slightly. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the dancing rosebuds and glowing pillar. “We’ve gathered here this afternoon to join Sam and Pete in an age-old celebration of coming together, of announcing intentions to form a more perfect union, where the two shall become one, where joys will be doubled and sorrows halved because you no longer celebrate separately, or sorrow singly.”

The words were unimportant, Teal’c tuned out the minister. What mattered was the joy radiating from Samantha’s face, the palpable air of pride O’Neill was trying to contain and Danieljackson’s boundless pleasure in their friend’s good fortune. That Dr. Frasier should choose to reveal her presence at this momentous occasion was the final blessing Teal’c sought.

Perfection would be hard to surpass. He basked in the glow of the moment, full lips twitching into a rare smile as he watched the drama unfold.

He had been vastly intrigued when Danieljackson had dragged a protesting Colonelcarter into his quarters and informed him said Colonelcarter needed someone to help plan a wedding. He had been to a couple of SGC weddings and had thought them insipid affairs; uninspired, tame, and totally lacking in imagination. So when Danieljackson had tossed out the all important, “Will you help her?” he’d immediately accepted the challenge.

Planning – whatever the battle – required certain steps. He had thoroughly researched the given subject within a matter of hours, met Colonelcarter and Danieljackson, along with O’Neill, and disclosed his strategy over breakfast.

O’Neill had ineffectually hidden his grin in his coffee cup, Danieljackson hadn’t bothered to try to hide his, and Samanthacarter had just stared at him in awe.

They’d set up a command station in Colonelcarter’s lab, with Teal’c’s laptop in pride of place. Ten years of close friendship and camaraderie had peeled back the layers of the woman for whom he was planning a wedding, he had not erred once in the suggestions he’d laid out for her.

For the ceremony itself, he had enlisted Danieljackson’s aid in creating a unique service that embodied a plethora of time-honored binding traditions from both Earth and alien cultures.

O’Neill’s initial covert derision had quickly given way to rueful endorsement, while Danieljackson had sat by with smug satisfaction. Nothing escaped the eagle-eyed Jaffa, he’d seen the money change hands, too, and had a bet with himself that Danieljackson had collected on a long-overdue wager regarding the ability of a certain warrior in the role of wedding planner. O’Neill should have paid up long before. Teal’c never set out to do anything he didn’t plan to finish – and with finesse.

Pete Shanahan was carefully lifting and rolling back the fingertip veil that fountained from the back of Colonelcarter’s chapeau, fitting his lips snugly to hers, obviously thoroughly enjoying a Big Red moment.

The police officer came up for air and was promptly reengaged by Colonelcarter to complete what he’d started.

“Ladies and gentleman, family, friends, auspicious visitors, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Pete and Samantha Shanahan!”

In the small space the audience applause reverberated inside her head as Sam turned with Pete and moved to hug each of their wedding party participants.

General O’Neill graciously condescended to allow Pete to hug him as well and took the opportunity to whisper darkly, “If you hurt her, I’ll hunt you down and tear you apart limb from limb.”

Momentarily nonplused, Shanahan gaped, then grinned. “Naturally, sir. I would expect nothing less from her family.”

“Just so we understand each other,” O’Neill added, passing the groom off to Daniel as Carter hugged the stuffing out of her wedding planner.

Epilogue

A thin crescent moon hung from a silver thread too high in the sky for its luminescence to be of practical use, not that it mattered. The torch-lit scene needed no further enhancement.

The reception was taking place on the large backyard deck and patio of their new home. Sam had felt a bit like the little girl in Miracle on 34th Street, staring, from the passenger seat, at the house of her dreams. Pete had initially taken her stunned silence as dislike – sometimes it caught her off guard that he knew her so well, yet, in some ways, not at all. She’d turned, caught his face between her hands and kissed the bejeezus out of him before throwing open the door and running madly around the house. He’d been waiting with the front door standing open when she’d made the circuit.

Sam sipped her champagne and watched Teal’c slow dancing with his date, the dress shop owner. Thea’s wedding attire appeared to consist entirely of various multihued scarves variously draped, tied, or hung from her diminutive person.

Fifteen feet away, Daniel and the General were perched on the edge of the deck sharing a bottle of champagne, and Sam was pretty certain O’Neill was attempting to recoup his earlier losses by trying to entice Daniel to bet on which scarf the lovely alien would lose first.

She still didn’t know exactly what they’d been betting on in church, but she had a pretty good idea it had something to do with Daniel’s belief in the Jaffa’s preternatural instincts regarding weddings. It was never wise to bet against Daniel. He rarely lost a wager of any kind.

At the other end of the patio, Cassie's plan was obviously progressing satisfactorily. She'd ditched her high-heeled sandals that made her taller than Pete's brother Michael and was wrapped around him like icing on a wedding cake. Of course, Michael hadn't been particularly slow on the uptake. Sam wondered if either of them were aware Jack, Daniel and Teal'c were all keeping an eye on where their hands were.

“Happy?” Pete slipped his arms around her from behind.

“Mmmmm,” Sam purred. “Very. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Oh, a dozen things, but for now, for this.”

“This?” Pete snugged his arms tighter as she arched against him. “This, lady, is my pleasure.”

“Oh, that too, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.” Sam lifted a languid hand to encompass the throng of people dancing or standing around in groups chatting amid the riotous blooms spilling out of her container gardens. “For amiably agreeing to a wedding in the first place, but also for never once rolling your eyes while this whole shebang was in the planning stages. I knew you were a nice guy, Shanahan, but you’re really right up there in the stand-out few, you know? It’s no wonder I fell truly, madly, deeply . . .” she rose on tiptoeand pirouettedinside the support of Pete’s hands . . . “in love . . .”

Pete went very still as Sam’s hands practiced a few glissades as yet unheard of in the world of ballet.

“. . . with you,” she murmured throatily, ending his torment with a sizzling, sexy kiss that brought everything to attention that wasn’t already front and center.

“You’re welcome. So when are we going to get to the good part?”

“We didn’t just?” Sam drew back, a well-feigned look of surprise criminally plastered on her flushed face.

Pete only laughed and, drawing the hand he held up over her head, twirled her in place again, one hand supporting her waist. “Let’s go say our goodbyes. We’ve got places to go, things to do . . .” He pressed against her backside, giving her a well-deserved opportunity to encounter what she’d done to him. “Yes,” he lowered his voice. “Lots of things to do yet tonight. I really think we should take our leave.”

“We still have guests,” Sam pointed out, though not with any particular conviction.

“Dr. Jackson has already assured me he will stay until the bitter end and get the cleaning crew in here tomorrow.”

“How sweet.”

“Sweet, charming, all around nice guy, really likeable. I’m not surprised your boss fell for him.”

Sam’s jaw dropped.

“And they’ll have the house all to themselves tonight. Let’s go so they can start clearing out the guests and really have it to themselves.”

“You knew? You know? No one knows about them!”

Pete kissed his new wife soundly and chuckled. “Come on, your bags are in the car already, let’s sneak away before anyone notices, then when they find we’re gone, Daniel and the General won’t have to try too hard to start the exodus.”

“I love you, Detective Shanahan.”

“I love you, too, even though you’re more girly-girl than I bargained for, Colonel Doctor Carter.”

Across the crowd, Teal’c broke off his conversation with Ms. Thea Kerrigan, formerly of the planet Chulak, and glanced toward the bridal pair.

Sam lifted her champagne glass high in a silent toast. To weddings, she directed at the bald head shimmering in the torchlight, and the best Wedding Planner in the universe.

Teal’c returned his customary response.

~*~

First manip on page one by Annie. All other manips by Joag

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