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In the end, she let him live.

It was actually freaking him out, truth be told. He’d expected anger. Or yelling. Or at the very least, a distinct lack of friendliness in the bedroom upon their return. But no. She’d been mellow, sweet, and very, very friendly.

He’d returned to D.C. a nervous wreck.

Samantha Carter was evil. He knew this. That the evilness had ratcheted up several notches since they’d started having sex was a given.

Seriously, though. The fact that his testicles were still attached and he was still breathing after calling her “pookie” at the airport was a miracle.

She’d only smirked and told him to have a good flight.

Freaking him out. Totally.

Trapped once again in his hated office at the Pentagon, he idly rummaged through his desk, searching for some stupid IOA memo that he may have accidentally turned into an origami bird.

There were a lot of origami creatures in his desk.

Ten minutes later, the memo had eluded capture, but he had found two yo-yos, his Nintendo DS, the portable DVD player, five DVD cases, and a bag of M&Ms.

Suddenly, his afternoon was booked solid.

Gleefully, he opened the portable DVD player and turned it on…

And nothing happened. A quick check revealed that the battery was missing, as was the AC adapter.

The DVD cases were empty.

The game and stylus was missing from the DS.

The yo-yos were stringless.

And the half-bag of M&Ms was filled with granola.

Jack O’Neill laid his head on his desk and felt the full force of Samantha Carter’s wrath thunder down upon him.

And halfway across the country, Sam Carter suddenly felt the urge to laugh.

So she did. And lo, “pookie” was avenged.