Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a knock on his door. “Hang on a minute.” He yelled.

At the second knock he yelled “I’m coming already! Hold your horses!” This better be important he thinks as he yanks the door open. “What?!”

“Er… Jonathan O’Neill?” The young man in front of him is slender and bears an uncanny resemblance to Skeeter without the hair issues.

“Skeeter?”

“What? No… that was my great grandpap’s name.”

“Shoulda known. What’s up?” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Um, well, I’m James Erland, a member of the Nicodemus Legend historical society and I have a package for you from Mr. Pratt.”

“Of course you do.” Jack put out his hand and makes a ‘gimmie’ motion to the kid who handed it over very reluctantly.

“Er… sir, it’s very old. Please be careful.”

“Yah yah whatever. Thanks kid. Do you need a tip or a donation or something?” Jack says absently as he starts to open the large manila envelope.

“No sir. I was just told to deliver this to your address during this week.”

Jack looked at the kid oddly. He hadn’t given Ernest specifics and he knew Sam wouldn’t so the only way Ernie would know when and where to deliver something to Jack was if Mick had stayed in touch. “Terrific.” He muttered to himself as he absently waved the kid off.

Walking back into his house, he decides to sit at the dinette table before opening the package. He took a deep breath before he gently shakes the contents of the envelope into his hand. It’s pretty much a month by month missive that includes distracted asides dictated from Abigail and notes from her in the margins. But it was the last few paragraphs catch his eye and makes him a little sad.

-- Well Jack, I’m getting up there in years so this is probably the last page of this. You were the cutest baby and I miss my Abby more and more ever day. I think it’s time I joined her.

I’m sorry about how Harry is handling this. He never understood that Abby never wanted me underfoot and she certainly couldn’t trust me to handle any of the farm animals or watering the plants. She knew who I was, I knew who she was. I suppose it was best he sold the ranch if he didn’t want it. I was letting it go to pot anyway after I sold off the stock. It was just a place to be close to you and Sam in any case. I gave Harry the bed you made. Made him feel guilty about keeping it.

I can already see the man you will become in your young eyes. You and Bub too. I want you to tell him about your trip, Jack. He deserves the truth too. He deserves to know I loved Abby with all my heart.

The developer said he’d leave the house you started. I’d appreciate it if you checked on it now and again. If you happen to see the curtains in the attic window twitch don’t mind it any. It’s just me saying hello.

Much love,

Ernest (and Abby) Pratt

Jack let out a slow sigh through his nose. He should be able to find the house with a little effort. Jack pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. “Bub? Where are yah?”

“Uhh… Istanbul actually.” Mac admitted.

“What are you.. no.. never mind… I don’t want to know. Next time you’re on this side of the water drop by the house if you can.”

“Sure, I can detour before going back to work. I keep reminding them I’m technically retired.”

Jack laughed. “Never gonna happen. You’ll die in the saddle the same as I will.”

“Ach… they can’t make me do this crap forever. What’s up?”

“Nothing urgent. Just have something I’d like to show you.”

“Oh?”

“Yah… and to tell you a little story. About Grandpap Ernie.”

“There’s one we haven’t heard?”

“Ohh… you’ve heard this one… but not from the perspective I’m going to give you.” Jack says cryptically.

Mac knows that’s all he’s going to get out of his cousin for now and his contact has shown up anyway. “Look, I’ve got to go, I’ll call you in a few weeks.”

Jack hung up and read through the long missive again. Some entries were short, others long. Ernie added an amusing spin to even trying times like finding out he’d only have one child and a pregnancy scare later that turned out to be a false alarm though Ernie thought himself it was an early miscarriage but he’d never break Abby’s heart telling her so. Or the times he’d been doing research and a young lady had taken it wrong and tried to get in on the action. Jack could just see Ernie having the same panicked reaction he’d had to Freya coming on to him. And for the same reason, Jack chuckled at Ernie’s description of trying to extract himself from the clutches of a particularly enthusiastic fan while Abby sat in the back laughing hysterically as according to her he looked like he was being attacked by an amorous octopus. Abby often went with him on book tours and never hinted she was his wife. Apparently she got some sort of sick pleasure in watching him try to fend women off politely after flirting with them to get them to buy books.

He knew he needed to let Sam read this stuff but Grandpap said show Bub so he was going to show Bub. Ironic Grandpap had given Angus that nick name even Grandpa Harry called him because he’d taken one look at the baby after he was born and said ‘Hey Bub’. It had stuck. Grandpap had been the one that called him Jack as a kid too which now Jack wondered did he do that knowing he’d eventually go by it or had he genuinely thought he looked more like a Jack even though his mom had insisted on calling him John.

Jack shook his head… This was why he didn’t think too hard about stuff. He’d end up down a rabbit hole of possibilities just like Sam always does. Jack hung his head a bit… Sam… Every time they think they are going to catch a break… they don’t. He’d had plans that night… and then Sara and her crew showed up to yank them right back to reality. If he were a smart man he’d have done exactly what Ernie had admitted to doing in his long missive. Deliberately getting Abby pregnant so she’d need him. Not that it had mattered in the end. It wasn’t very honest either even if his intentions had been well meant at the time.

If he were honest with himself, he’d kind of been avoiding Sam a little since they got back. He needed the distance though or he was going to do something really stupid. Maybe Bub was right. Maybe he should just retire again and ask her if she’d like to be with him. If he asked her without retiring, she’d probably pretend she doesn’t understand what he’s asking her like she usually did.

But the observation deck was getting really lonely at night without her cuddled under a blanket with him since they got back. And he’d told her he’s still all in but… he wasn’t acting like it… again. God... he wasn’t like Ernest… he was worse. Bub was right. Dammit. He and Carter really needed to talk about this. He hated when Bub was right. It was worse than when Danny was right because Bub would rub it in and gloat. Danny just gave him ‘I told you so’ looks and let it drop.

Hammond was off today too so Jack left the letters on his kitchen table and grabbed his keys. If he was going to ask this… he’d rather do it privately.

“So do I need to ask why you want to put in for retirement, Jack?” George was asking him on the back porch of his house.

“Sir…”

George waved him off though. “Son, I’ve been expecting this for years. I don’t think you’re wrong but the Pentagon might not see it that way. You’re a valuable field asset which is why you’re still on a team instead of riding a desk like most base commanders do.” He pointed out.

Jack sighs. “I know, sir.”

“It’s the same reason I wouldn’t be able to get you an exemption. They don’t care, Jack.”

“You’ve…?”

“I put feelers out after the little incident with the Tok’ra. I figured it would only be a matter of time before it started bothering one or both of you.”

Jack looked a little embarrassed. “We haven’t… ah…”

“No. I don’t suppose you have, Jack. You’re too honorable of a man to put her in that kind of position…. But if this goes the way I think, it will… son… And there is still the matter of you grooming her for command.”

Jack frowns. “Sir, if you want my honest assessment... there isn’t much more I can teach her. Most of what’s left is a matter of experience.”

George Hammond nods. “If you’re sure, son.”

Jack’s face turns grim. “Sir, I need to retire or things are going to spiral out of control soon and I don’t have many defenses left against her.”

“Duly noted.” George thought for a moment. “But what doesn’t happen on base also isn’t any of my business as long as you aren’t breaking any civilian laws.”

Jack gave Hammond a long look. Jacob would kill him if he found out through anyone but he and Sam so that would need to be discussed as soon as possible… Jack was very against being disintegrated by an angry Jacob Carter.

“Understood, sir.”

“I know you want more than that Jack. I promise I’ll try.”

Jack nodded. He knew Hammond really would do his utmost to talk the brass into letting him step down. It was what was best for them as a couple. He’d had his fun already and he’d told the truth, there wasn’t much more he could teach Sam.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, Jack got his answer… “Sorry Jack… I tried.”

“It’s all right, sir… It was a long shot and I knew it.”

They were in Hammond’s office prior to a briefing. George felt it might go over better at work where neither of them would say anything they shouldn’t on the matter.

Jack would just have to see how things go he supposed and they both headed for the briefing room for the next mission plan. Sam was surprised to see Jack had arrived first when she sat across from him but his expression was closed even when she gave him a puzzled ‘what’s up?’ look.

If Jack was moody, the rest of the day no one said anything to him about it. Jack was prone to moodiness anyway and Daniel didn’t have to ask what was eating at him. He’d watched things play out in real time this time.

Jack spent the rest of his day brooding until well after the time he was supposed to sign out for the day. Finally not even drowning himself in paperwork was enough to make him forget his disappointment and he logged out.

He drove home wallowing further in his disappointment. He stopped at the convenience store down the street from his house and got one of their cheap greasy pizzas and a six pack of cheap beer. His stomach would hate him tomorrow but he didn’t care.

He all but tossed the pizza on the table as he set the pack of beer on the counter that ran along the back of the dinette. Jack shrugged off his leather jacket and sat at the table. But instead of eating his pizza he slid down and put his head on the table next to it and sighed. He wondered if an 1800s marriage license would hold up in tribunal. Ladies and gentlemen of the tribunal, I submit my marriage license to Dr. Samantha Carter which predates the existence of the USAF. Of course then they would court martial him for adultery with his ex-wife.

“Are you just going to sit there wallowing or offer me a beer?” A feminine voice he’d recognize from anywhere said from the shadows.

Jack startled. “When did you get here?”

She walked into the small circle of light in his kitchen. “About an hour before you did.” She admitted and sat down in the chair next to his.

“Sam… you shouldn’t be here by yourself at night. It looks bad.”

Sam leaned forward and put her chin in her hands.

He sighed. Clearly she wasn’t going to leave him to wallow in self pity. “I put in for retirement a couple weeks ago.”

“I see.”

“They denied me.”

She smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry.” She finally said.

Jack nodded a couple times. “I tried, Sam.” His voice was choked with emotion.

Sam just sighed though. She didn’t know what to do. Their feelings hadn’t changed, if anything they had gotten stronger since being forced to admit them or literally be killed. The last eight months of their lives hadn’t helped. They had both been ready to call it and just get married, thinking they couldn’t get home. She’d never been so happy and miserable at the same time… and… suddenly she understood the look on Jack’s face after she got her memories back.

Jack pulled a beer out of the six pack and twisted the cap off and handed it to her. Sam accepted silently and he opened a beer for himself. They sat that night in near silence while they ate a questionable pizza and drank three less than high quality beers a piece.

He supposed he could tell her what Hammond said but he knew she needed to come to that decision on her own. He wasn’t ready to talk about the long missives Ernie had sent him. Not until Bub read them first anyway.

“We should probably cool things off a little, sir.” Sam finally said.

“Yah.” He said… though his agreement wasn’t really one. He noted the ‘sir’ bit.

Sam fiddled with an empty beer bottle. “I um… I should probably go.” She said.

Hs hand shot out though and he held hers. “Stay.” He said, and looked into her eyes, trying to convey all his regret and love in that one expression. “I mean… You had three beers. You shouldn’t drive yet and by the time you do, it’s going to be really late…. Stay.” He looked deep into her eyes, looking for answers. “Please?”

She hesitated. She wanted to.

“We’ll just sleep. I promise.” He told her.

Sam nodded slowly. “You’re sure?”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “No, but I’ll give it a shot.”

Sam laughed. “As long as you’re honest about it.”

“Could you please go back to not calling me ‘sir’ in my house at least?” He asked her. “It’s a little weird after everything we… well… you know….” Jack finished lamely with a shrug.

Sam snorted and bit her lip. “So we go back to waiting then?”

“Pretty much.” He agreed.

Sam thought about it for a little bit. “What if I retried?” She put up a hand when he started to object. “They don’t need me in the field, Jack. I could still do my job… just not out there…”

“I would never ask you to do that, Sam.” He put a finger in her lip when she started to object. “Sooner or later we’ll win this stupid war and when we do, the government is going to owe us a lot of favors. Especially after denying my retirement twice now.”

“Twice?” She asked in confusion.

“Yah… there was that other time…”

“Oh…” She colors slightly. There had, in fact, been several other times.

“Will you still come over to watch the stars with me?” He asked her, a soft plea in his voice that made her smile gently at him.

“Will you still take Cassie and me to the opera?”

Jack grins. “I’d be disappointed if you decided not to come.”

“I’d be disappointed if you stopped inviting me.”

“Want to go fishing?”

Sam grinned.

“Is that a yes?” He said hopefully.

“Ask me when the war is over… Jack.”

“Yes ma’am.” He said with alacrity and a grin. “C’mon. Let’s hit the hay. And I promise… just cuddling.”

“Just cuddling?”

“Ok… there might be a little kissing.” He admitted as he led her upstairs.

“Define a little.” She teased.

“I was thinking ‘chaste, our parents are watching’.”

“I was thinking more heavy petting and tonsil hockey.”

“Were you now… Describe in detail this heavy petting.” He joked as the door closed behind them.

Chapter Text

They had a talk about the situation that next morning. That they accepted how they felt but also that there wasn’t much either could do about it currently. Both had suggested keeping things casual for the sake of the other, neither having any intention of acting on that suggestion. That day, Sam is given a project in addition to fixing what was wrong with the Gate and goes into full on workaholic mode. They had just talked about this sort of thing being unhealthy for her and Jack was privately very steamed that he was being ignored. Publicly, he was pretty much being a surly jerk about it so most of the base was tiptoeing around him.

A week later when Jack has hit fed up, Orlin shows up in Sam’s life. And suddenly Jack realizes how badly his self-centered behavior is backfiring. He’s unable to stop himself from still being short with her until he realizes Sam didn’t invite the horny alien into her house in the first place. That the guy had attached himself to her because he saw she’s too nice to just tell him to fuck the hell off. When she comes to him half a week later with a hypothetical plan to capture him and send him back, Jack caves but tries not to show it. He was almost glad he’d drunk way too much coffee this morning and had to rush to the head, leaving her mystified in his wake.

A couple more weeks later, Jack is standing outside Sam’s house. The door frame was kicked in. “Look why don’t you take my bunk at base the next couple nights Sam. Teal’c and I will go to the hardware store and get you a new door tomorrow morning.

One of the SF’s was nailing military grade plywood to the shattered door frame of her house.

“Are you sure?”

Jack nods. “I’ve got a couple days off coming up anyway. I’ll come over and help you clean up. It’s partially my fault for not believing you initially anyway.” He admitted.

Sam gave Jack an odd look. “Are you sure?”

“Yah it’s fine. How are you holding up?”

She sighed. “Other than a bunch of Alphabet company goons dug through my underwear drawer like perverts… all right I suppose.” She told him.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He says with a cheeky grin that makes her laugh. That’s better, he thinks. Sam had clearly started to feel bad for the alien guy in spite of the situation. He couldn’t fault her that. He’d taken on his share of hard luck cases himself. “C’mon. Let’s go get the guys and go have dinner.” He told her draping an arm over her shoulder. “I’ll drive you back to base after we eat.”

“All right sir.” She tells him, aware that they have an audience and this needs to look like old friends and not two people who two months ago had been discussing starting a family in the 1800s.

It was almost a month since Jack last spoke with his cousin when Jack gets a call from Bub that he’s on his way into Colorado and will drive down from Denver for a short layover. Someone from Phoenix delivered his Jeep to Colorado for him in anticipation of him staying a few days. More than enough time to tell him about Grandpap and Grammy Pratt. Jack snorted a sort of grin.

Two years ago, Bub would have though Jack was yanking his chain but that was clearly Ernie’s unmistakable handwriting and Jack could prove it. They had always wondered about the initials scribed under the bed rail. Jack had always secretly thought that was a very sweet inscription yet never used it with Sara for some reason even though Bub had often wondered who it was that shared Jack’s initials. Jack hadn’t thought about it in years thought. Ernie had told him in his long missive that Abby had also strong armed her son-in-law by insisting the bed was to be given to one of the grandkids if they wanted it and Harry was absolutely not to dispose of it otherwise. Harry was prone to telling his father-in-law his faults at length. Even Abby admonishing him to hold his tongue had rarely had much effect beyond the immediate apology from the man but he kept the bed.

Jack heard excited high pitched yelling and looked out one of the front windows. The kids at the end of the block had started a pickup game of street hockey that some of the dads were joining into as well. Jack grinned and headed to the garage to grab his gear.

The next morning, Bub showed up at an unreasonable hour and let himself in. He made a pot of coffee for Jack and fished around for some tea bags. All he could find was some fruity herbal stuff. Oh well. It’s no Earl Grey but at least it’s tea. He put a mug of water in the microwave to heat up and went looking for Jack.

“J.J.! I know you’re here. That piece of crap truck of yours was in the driveway!” He yells up the stairs. He heard muffled cursing, a thud, and more cursing. Jack limped down the stairs, one hand holding the rail firmly and the other scrubbing his hair.

“What the hell time was your flight?”

“Six AM, why?” Mac asked innocently. Knowing damn well if Jack was on leave he tended to sleep in.

“That better be coffee.” He muttered.

Mac chuckled. Give the man a pond and he was up at the crack before dawn. Give him a warm bed and you could just forget about those fish. He made Jack a mug of coffee while he steeped his mug of tea. “So what brings me out to brisk Colorado this time of year, Jack?”

“Huh? Oh… let me wake up first, will yah.”

“Okay. What did you do to your knee?”

“Ah! I was playing street hockey with the local kids and my foot zigged but my knee zagged.” He grumbled and slugged down half his mug of coffee. “That Carter’s tea you’re drinking?”

“You didn’t have any other.” Mack pointed out.

“No, ‘s fine. Just need to buy more that’s all.”

“So that’s going…. Well?” Mack asked him with mild interest. He’d admit he might have been too rough on Jack about it the last time he was in town. They hadn’t parted on good terms though Jack rarely held a grudge for long.

“Yah… no… I don’t know… About that though… Bub, we are about to have one of those hypothetical conversations about something that never happened.” Jack told him with a pointed look.

“Ah. Is this one about little green men?”

“Nope. This one is about H. G. Wells. Or… well will be eventually if Yonish had his way.”

“Why does that name ring a bell?”

“Because it was great Grandpap’s best friend. Well, one of them. There was the Ramos guy but he wasn’t around as much as he had a bunch of really little kids and I was kind of busy.”

Mac shook his head trying to clear it. “Jack, what the hell are you talking about?”

“A couple months back we were supposed to take a trip to a designation with letters and numbers that are irrelevant. We never got there. What happened instead was the Gate malfunctioned and threw us back in time to 1881.”

“Why does that date ring a bell?” Mac said in confusion.

Jack grabbed the signed copy of ‘Legend of Cheyenne’ and flipped it to Mac.

“Hey! Be careful with that! He signed that one. Looks mint condition too.”

“It should be. He only signed it a few months ago.”

“Jack… Grandpappy Ernie died when we were ten.”

“Yep. And two months ago, I spent eight months living at the Silver King with him and Sam and Danny, T… and Granny Abby.”

“All right. I’m impressed. That’s a good joke and almost as wild of a story as Grandpappy used to tell.” Mac said chuckling.

“No joke Bub.”

Bub’s face dropped. “But Sam said they fixed that. The Stargate sent you--Wait, can it still do that?!"”

“Yah, not usually-- Carter knows how it does it... something to do with solar flares? She thought she had it fixed but Felger fubared some of the coding during an update right before we left.”

“Hold on-- her research was right! The magnetic field-- How does that idiot even still have a job?” Mac asked, shaking his head.

“No idea. You want to hear the story or not?”

Mac settled into the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Why not.” He said agreeably with a smile. Jack had gone back in time and met Grandpappy Ernie & Grandmumma Abby? This he had to hear.

"Mac-- our perceptions of Grandpap Ernie may have been a little off--"

"Whada mean?" Mac asked him.

"Ernest really wasn't all that bad after all--" 

Jack proceeded to tell Bub how they made it to Sheridan and in spite of knowing he shouldn’t stay there perhaps subconsciously he’d stayed at the Silver King just to see if he really had boarded there for years. That Ernest Pratt was indeed the womanizing alcoholic gambling chain smoker Grandpa Harry had always described… and then went on to tell him about Sam’s argument with one of Ernie’s former lovers who tried to latch on to Jack as a replacement. That Ernie had so much respect for Abigail’s choice to be independent that he’d kept his developing feelings about her to himself for at least two years that Jack could confirm. And that Abby, knowing Ernie didn’t want to be tied down had done the same until their parents had decided to interfere.

“Interfere how?” Bub asked a little incredulously.

“Grandpap’s mom got it in her head to have Granny Abby’s dad aggravate the snot out of her until she blew up and went running to Ernie to put a stop to it.” Jack chuckled. “It went spectacularly well.”

“In what way?”

“Well, you know how your dad always said Gram’s mom was a little flighty? Apparently you could frazzle Abby enough that she’d fly off the handle and run off and do something crazy. The first time they met she tried to enlist Ernie into helping her stop her dad from murdering the president”

“Hey, I remember that story! Grant, wasn’t it? Used to make me laugh every time he said he admitted no one in Washington would pay a ransom for him.” Bub said.

“Yah, so I guess the books she showed up in really were adventures they went on and she fell out of the books because they got married and she had a baby at home… Might I add one conceived prior to the wedding night.”

“Well, that I believe. Grandpappy didn’t have a reputation for nothing.”

“Thing is, not once did he get any of those other women pregnant… only Granny Abby… because he used protection every time except with her.”

“If he didn’t want to be tied down, that’s a hell of a way to go about it Jack.”

Jack chuckled and sipped his coffee. “He didn’t think she’d stick around otherwise… the thing is, Bub… he was convinced Abby could and should do better than him even though he loved her. Didn’t want her to just settle on some loser who couldn’t get over a crush.”

Bub gave him a long look. “Gee… who does that sound like?” He said sarcastically.

“It’s funny… I’m a lot like her. She shot a KKK goon dead for trying to shoot me in the back… Then thought Ernie wouldn’t love a woman that could murder a man in cold blood like that and offered to leave. Wasn’t even the first time she offered to go. When she figured out what Delilah and Ethan had pulled she offered to let Ernie go and face the shame of being an unwed mother by herself rather than ruin his reputation.”

Mac looked at his cousin for a long time. “I’m not gonna even say it.” He finally said. They both knew that’s exactly Jack’s behavior towards Sam the last few years.

Jack sighed softly and Bub got up and made him an ice pack.

“So how did you guys get home? I mean obviously you got home somehow but Samantha told me months ago that the Gate was found in the thirties.” He handed Jack the ice pack for his knee and sat back down.

“Apparently, we attracted the attention of some futuristic time cops.”

Mac laughed. “Why did you get stopped by the time cops? Wait... let me guess… in spite of knowing not to, you were going to do something that screwed up history.”

Jack gave Bub a self deprecating grin. “Danny was going to marry a local schoolteacher and fade into obscurity having fathered no children… Sam and I thought…” Jack looked off into the distance.

Bub looked thoughtfully at his cousin. Jack was clearly at odds with himself about the whole thing which meant it was something about Sam. Something bad.

“Sam and I went on to get married and have four kids…”

“That’s a pretty nice ending.”

“Yah.” Jack said wistfully and kept staring off into space.

Mac waited him out. Whatever it was, it bothered Jack quite a lot.

“She would have died giving birth to our fourth child Bub.” Jack said so softly Mac almost didn’t hear him.

Mac nodded slowly. He’d have lost her just the same as Mac had lost Sam’s mom. Except instead of hearing about it years later, she’d probably have died right in front of him while he was helpless to stop it. Mac didn’t think Jack could handle another loss like that. He’d have pushed through for his kids but… he’d have been a shell of himself doing it.

As if reciting it by route... Jack went on to tell Bub, his great grandson not him would go through the gate as he’d have committed suicide and Sam would die on the Abydos mission before figuring out the very technology said time cops used to rescue them.

Mac cringed. “That’s a massive time paradox Jack.”

“Yap. That’s why we left.” Jack agreed knowing Bub knew the real reason but wouldn’t call him on it. Not after the arguing last time about this. Jack picked up a large manila envelope off his end table. “Grandpap wanted you to read that.”

Bub nods and picks it up. He notices that it’s their great grandfather’s unmistakable handwriting and settles back to read the months and years of chatty updates from the time Jack and Sam left the 1880s until he and Jack were little boys.

“He really loved her, didn’t he.” Mac says not quite in surprise but more in awe. Their impression of Grandpappy Ernie was from the perspective of his angry son-in-law that had no idea the understanding Abby had with her husband. She’d never wanted or expected him to change any more than he had of her. He didn’t want a housewife clinging to him. He wanted an equal. The smart remarks from her written in the margins and after his entries spoke of an intelligence Grandpa Harry had never seen in her. She’d handled all the ranching things because those were her areas of expertise and Ernie wrote because that was his vocation. He’d never spent a dime of her money even once and the farm Mac vaguely remembered had been prosperous when he was very little. Ernie had sold off the animals because he simply didn’t have the energy for them. The only thing he’d kept was a lazy tom cat that had only liked his owner.

What shone through year after year was Ernest Pratt’s adoration for his sweet yet sassy wife. Even her own notes of him buying her things she didn’t ask for but had needed anyway. After learning to dye yarn as Sam had ordered the tools anyway, Ernie bought her a giant loom to make her own blankets and hired local tribal women to teach her natural dyes and how to weave so she wouldn’t be bored during the long often cold Colorado winters.

“Why did Grandpa Harry hate him so much?” Mac finally asked in confusion.

Jack shrugged. “As far as I could tell it was a cultural thing. His upbringing had been old fashioned and Ernie’s hadn’t so when he saw Ernie letting Abby be herself he saw it as a lazy man not doing for his poor put upon wife and daughter.”

“How did he not see that as love?” Mac asked mystified.

“He thought he rescued grandma from her useless father. Harry worked hard all his life. Hell we were grown and in our thirties before he ever admitted there was some value to what you do for a living.”

“Yah. He was all for your Air Force position thought.”

Jack chuckled. “It looked better on paper than convict.”

“So, how are things between you and Sam?”

Jack sighed… “If you tell anyone I said this I’ll kick your ass.” Jack said.

Mac gave his cousin a smug smile. “Oh?”

“You might have been right about me being too hard on Sam. Ernie was afraid of his own feelings and almost lost Abby over it. Even though she loved him, Abby did the same thing and kept freaking out every time her feelings for him got overwhelming.”

Mac smiled. “So you’re saying you know where you got it from. Great. Now what?”

“Now I go help her clean up her house because the CIA trashed it looking for evidence of a creepy stalker alien that shacked up with her for a month.”

“Wait, she’s been shacking up with another guy? How bad did you screw up Jack?”

Jack flapped his hand at Mac dismissively. “I didn’t. Not that way at least. The guy was invisible and followed Carter home. I was still trying to figure out how to emotionally go from we’re getting married back to ‘you’re my 2IC’ when he showed up so I was being kind of a putz.” He admitted.

“So what happened?”

“She cornered me on the way to the can with some screwball plan to draw him out. It worked by the way…” He winced. He knew she probably at least made out with the guy to get him to make mistakes.

“But?”

“The guy handling it is a schmuck. He gate crashed Sam’s house. Tore her door off the hinges… trashed her house. I’m going over tomorrow to help her clean it up. T and I already fixed the door but we didn’t tell her yet. I don’t want her going over there without help to clean it up.”

“Not on that knee you aren’t.”

“I’ll be all right. Just wrap it really hard and take a lot of ibuprofen.”

“I have an idea and it would be pretty funny as a joke, too. What if I went over there instead?”

“Wadayah mean it would be funny?” Jack asked the other man who looked remarkably like him.

“Just hear me out. I’m due for a haircut anyway… We’re about the same size. She’d never notice...”