"How many years has it been?"

"I have no idea."

He looked up from his newspaper and smiled at her, the wrinkles around his eyes in no way ageing the twinkle in his eyes.

"You have no idea."


"It doesn't say on the card?"



He went back to reading his newspaper, his feet up on the coffee table, even though she had told him, over and over, sitting in that position was really bad for his knee. Sam was sat opposite him, a book in her lap and a coffee mug in her hands. They had fallen into a routine of breakfast in the kitchen and coffee in the lounge. A routine that had become impossible to break out of as it took his knee a couple of hours to be mobile enough to do anything more but when Jack looked away from his paper again he saw that annoyed look she got when she didn't know something. Age hadn't changed her much and he suspected that she had worn the same look from when she was six to now she was sixty six.

His memory was fine and had always been pretty good but this hadn't really been important to them. The when and the where wasn't as important as the fact that they were together.

Except now Sam couldn't remember and she hated not knowing something, it pushed her buttons. As far as he was aware, it was twenty years ago or something like that, he hadn't really cared for the particulars, only that he was actually marrying Sam.

"You know what you're going to have to do."

"I'm not calling Daniel." He smiled and put his newspaper down.

"He used to send us a card every year."

"I know, I remember." She put her coffee down and stood up. "I'm going to look for our marriage certificate."

"Just call Daniel."

"He already thinks I'm going senile." She took off her reading glasses and looked around the room, hands on her hips, an angry look on her face. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"Your pocket honey." He said without looking. She felt her breast shirt pocket and made an angry growling noise. "You're welcome." He added as she put them on.

She disappeared out of the lounge and he picked his newspaper back up. If nothing else, searching for their marriage certificate would keep her busy for a while. Maybe he could finish his newspaper, though he had never managed to do it in any of the previous years that they had been married for.

However long that had been.

Maybe they should've had children after all. Given Sam something to do during retirement. He laughed to himself and read about the world, hearing Sam in their study, the sound of draws opening and paper rustling.

Age had caught up with his body and the abuse he had out it through saving the world. Arthritis had set into his knee and had spread in the last couple of years. He had really pushed himself too hard near the end, before the desk job. Sam had done the same, with her mind too and he wondered if that was the cause for the senility. It was slowly setting in, he had to admit it, even if she couldn't, but he found it cute regardless.

He had to admit he was old when he was napping at half past ten in the morning. He opened his eyes and looked around, his reading glasses were on his lap, the newspaper on the floor and Sam no where in sight.

"Sam!" He called out. He reached out and grabbed his cane, using it to get to his feet. "Sam!"

"Back here." Her voice came from the back of the house and he guessed she was in their bedroom. They had bought the one story house when Jack's knee had given up on him one day going up the stairs. With no sympathy Daniel had found him crippled in agony half way up. The bungalow was just another reminder of his age and he hated that but enjoyed asking his friend when the last the last time he took the stairs up to his apartment was.

He walked into the bedroom and smiled at the sight of his wife sat on a dining room chair, surrounded by old boxes and bits of paper covering the floor.

"No joy huh?"

"No." She sighed, looking around at the mess she had made. It was going to take a while to clean it all up and none of it had been helpful.

"Want me to get the phone?"


"Sam, you're never going to find it."

"It's got to be here somewhere."

"We've moved a dozen times since then."

"Maybe we can work it out from the years of when we moved."

"I can't even remember when we moved into this place." He sat down on the edge of their bed. "It's not important Sam. That's why we never celebrated in the first place."

"I know."

"Do you want some help tidying up?"

"I can manage."

"I'll go make lunch then." He used his cane again to get to his feet and Sam bent over in the chain to start tidying up the boxes. She knew her back would ache later from bending over so much this morning. She had been fit all her life, as had Jack, but she thought that maybe they had pushed their bodies too far for their country. For their home. They had certainly pushed their minds too hard. Terrible nightmares plagued them both, long after then had retired and Jack didn't sleep without medication.

Their anniversary wasn't important to them because they were finally married after all those years at the SGC but their health was failing her naturally for the first time and she felt she needed to hold onto the past. Hold on to their time together because it was more important than anything else she had done in her life. She was very aware of how old she was getting. The lump she'd found scaring her more than anything she had faced at the SGC.

"Can you get me the phone first?" She called out before Jack got too far away.

"Of course." He put his head around the door and smiled at her, handing her the phone. She frowned at him, annoyed that he had assumed she would give in, annoyed that she was so obvious and tapped in Daniels' number.

He stood in the doorway and waited to listen in on the conversation. Sam's own persistence had piqued his curiosity a little.

"Thanks for the card Daniel." She laughed. "No Jack isn't going to threaten you again." Jack laughed, the cards had stopped when he told Daniel they had to. Told him with stern words. "I just wanted to ask you something." There was a quick pause as Daniel said something and she debated for one last moment before asking him. "How long have we been married?"

Jack had expected him to laugh or make fun, but Sam didn't react like he had. Instead she said thank you and goodbye and hung up.


"I thought it wasn't important." She grinned.

"It's not but now you know you might as well tell me."

"Twenty-five years."

"Is that all? Feels like a lot longer." He ran as quickly as he could out of the room and he realised the worst thing age had done to him was slow him down when Sam was angry with him.