Teal'c is at Jack's side when they emerge onto the ramp. Jack eyes him, absently noting the way Teal'c's shoulders soften and lower, the slackened grip on his staff weapon.
Teal'c's home, or as close as he gets, and he's happy.
So's Jack. Of course. Yes. You bet.
But he's still feeling the springiness of the grass around the 'gate, fresh and untrodden, still has a lungful of crisp, clean P3X-974 air.
It's not a problem, and he doesn't feel disloyal; his home's just a little bit bigger than it used to be. And his back yard?
Goes on forever.
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