Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Pairings: Sam and Janet, established relationship

Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it. I even borrowed the letters that make up the words.

Spoilers: Tiny for "Hathor," "Urgo," "1969," a slight one for "2010" and probably some others that I missed.

Series: Sixth in my "Ampersand Series."

What Came Before: "Life & Death," "Search & Rescue," "Forgive & Forget," "Hide & Seek," "Light & Dark"

Notes: John, John, he's our man! If he can't beta... well, we'd have a lot of stories with spelling errors, grammatical problems and plot holes.

Summary: Janet meets a mysterious woman who seems to be from the future.

~Then- 1989~

Janet Fraiser-Harrison pressed her forehead against the glass, trying to block out the sound of her husband singing along with the cassette tape of some louder-than-necessary rock band as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The insane lyrics matched with his southern accent resulted in one of the worst sounds in the universe. Sighing quietly, she sat up and adjusted her seatbelt. The dinner wasn't just about Alan's transfer; she had news of her own.

She checked her watch and looked out the window, wondering why a restaurant would be set up so far out in the boonies. Alan had always raved about Flaherty's Bar & Grill and was finally inviting her along to celebrate his transfer to an Army base in New Mexico. He couldn't be happier to get out of the 'Okie hellhole' where he'd been stationed. He didn't seem to remember that being stationed at Fort Reno had led to his meeting Janet and eventually their marriage. She winced everytime he claimed nothing good had come from Oklahoma. She felt it was a personal jab at her, but never said anything.

Finally, the headlights washed over an old sign which read: "If you ain't headin' to Flaherty's, you made a wrong turn!" Alan shut the car off next to a dirty old truck and threw open the door of his jeep. "C'mon, honeybuns! I'll introduce you to the guys."

Janet slowly climbed out of the jeep. "A rib joint?"

"No, it's not a rib joint," he drawled. "It's a bar."

"Alan," she said, remaining planted next to her door. "I... I'd rather celebrate in a nice restaurant. Like the Sportsman's."

"Sportsman's? Hell, you gotta be a member of their country club to eat there."

"I signed us up last month, Alan," she sighed. "Don't you remember? You signed the papers and told me you wanted to eat there as soon as we were accepted."

"Ah, honeybuns... this is our last night in Oklahoma. I'd rather spend it with my buddies."

"While I'm doing what, Alan? Sitting in the corner being your trophy? We have one more dinner in this state and we haven't used our membership at Sportsman's once."

Alan sighed, walking back to the car. "Fine. You wanna eat at Sportsman's, we'll eat at there."

He slammed the door, starting the engine as soon as he could reach the keys. Janet's door was still open when he gunned the jeep's engine, forcing her to grab at her seat belt. "Damn it, Alan! Could you at least wait until I close the door?"

He said nothing, just continued out of the parking lot. His jaw was a firm line as he pulled back onto the access road. Janet sighed and rested her head against the cold glass once more. Alan was going to be furious when he heard her news. She hoped she could take what he dished out.

Glancing back at the fading bar, she wondered if the Sportsman's Club was such a good idea. At least the brutes at Flaherty's wouldn't take kindly to watching a man beat his wife. The people who frequented Sportsman's would be too refined to make him stop once he forced her outside. She closed her eyes. It was going to be a bad night.

---

The romantic setting of the club was doing nothing for Janet's mood. The entryway was filled with authentic watercolors, many by locally famous artists, and soft piano music filtered through the entire dining area. Waiters and waitresses wore tuxedos and the tables were set with the finest china Janet had ever seen. Dangling from the ceiling over each table were crystal chandeliers, each alit with small candles. And in the middle of it all, a disgruntled army officer and his throughly embarrassed and frustrated wife.

Alan snapped his menu shut, handing it to the girl assigned to their table... the poor thing. "Full stack of ribs, please. Rarer the better. And a beer."

Janet ordered a medium-well porterhouse along with a bottle of fancy wine, ignoring Alan's glare about the price. She smiled sweetly at the young waitress and handed the menu to her.

As the young girl disappeared through the maze of tables, Janet sighed, "You could've gotten ribs at that bar."

"Then why didn't we just stay there?" he snapped. "And a porterhouse? Geez, Janet, what do you think, I'm made of money?"

Janet scanned the tables around theirs. She caught furtive glances cast at her and she wished she could just disappear. Bringing Alan to this place was an awful idea, regardless of her news. She picked the napkin off of the table and draped it across her lap.

Alan sighed. "Why do I have water? I ordered a beer."

"The water is until the drink gets here. And would it have killed you to order wine? This is a special occassion, you know."

"Wine," he scoffed. "Wine, porterhouse, what's next? You want me to trade in that cubic zirconium ring for a real diamond? After this celebration dinner, I don't know if I can afford the transfer. I may have to stay in Okla-hell-ma for a few more years."

Janet's eyes were cast downward, but she looked out of the corner of her eye to an old married couple a few tables away. They were in their sixties, but still held hands across the table. A few moments ago, they had probably been staring into each others eyes, whispering sweet nothings... but now their attention was focused on the man in the dirty suit that didn't fit as he snapped at his wife. "Alan, could you please not make a scene?"

Alan ignored her, downing his water glass in one swallow. "So are refills free here, or do ya gotta pay for something you didn't even order?" He dropped the glass onto the tabletop, wiping his lip. "I gotta pee." He stood, scooting his chair nosily across the floor and standing up. He scanned the room and muttered, "Where the hell is the john?"

As soon as he was gone, Janet felt every eye in the room boring in on her. She felt the insane need to apologize for her husband's infantile behavior, but couldn't raise her eyes to face anyone. Finally, she looked up and gazed at the door. 'Run,' she told herself. 'The jerk always leaves his keys in the truck. Just go, drive, and never come back. Leave the bastard.' She closed her eyes. It was the same argument she always had with herself when he left her alone.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

She turned, startled. The pretty young waitress had returned with Alan's drink and a pre-poured glass of red wine from the bottle Janet had ordered. Janet nodded weakly, offering a small smile before accepting her wine glass. As she took it from the waitress' hand, their fingers brushed slightly. She looked into the girl's eyes, seeing the smile in them. The girl placed a hand on Janet's shoulder. "If you need anything else, let me know. Okay?"

Janet nodded and took a sip of her wine. Alan returned, watching the waitress disappear once more. "Damn," he whistled. "Quite a caboose on that one, huh?"

Janet shook her head. "Could you at least wait until I'm out of the room before you start checking out other women?"

Alan smiled. "Jealous, honeybuns?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped, trying to keep her voice as a whisper. "You know I hate that nickname. I've hated it since you gave it to me. So please, just cut it out!"

Alan sighed. "Whaddaya want me to call you, then?"

"How about 'Janet'? Would that be so damned difficult? Or just honey? Dear? Sweety? Honeybun is a snack food."

Alan shook his head. "Didn't know you were so damned touchy about it. Don't jump down my throat."

As he sipped his beer, Janet closed her eyes and gathered her strength. It was, as they say, now or never. If she didn't tell him soon, she would chicken out and never go through with it. "I joined the Air Force." She closed her eyes, waiting for him to scream or yell or hurl things at her. The explosion never came. Looking up, she saw him rip a biscuit open with his hands. "Alan?" she whispered. "Did you hear me?"

He looked up. "Hear what? That insane joke you just told? Not very funny. No punchline."

"It's not a joke. I applied at Tinker."

"Without telling me?" To a casual observer, it would look as if Alan were just confused. But to Janet's trained eye, she could tell he was about a second away from snapping. "You, uh... applied to an Oklahoma Air Force Base knowing I'd be transfered?"

"I didn't know when I applied, Alan. If I did..."

"I've been talking about this for months. What did you think, that I wouldn't get it? You think I'm not worthy of the transfer, Janet?"

"It's not that..."

"Then what?! You wanna tell me what the hell possessed you to join the Air-Fucking-Force behind my back?" He was on his feet now. The other diners weren't trying to hide their stares.

Janet tried to fold in on herself. "Please, Alan... people are staring."

"Let them stare! Look at you! You're a half-pint who can't even take ME screaming at you! How d'ya think you'll handle a drill sergeant? Did you even THINK before you did this?"

"Of course I thought." She stood, throwing her napkin aside. "I thought and I thought and I thought. And when I finally decided to do what made ME happy, I signed up."

"There's a reason they call it this MAN'S army, honeybuns," he said, adding extra venom to the final word. "You'll never make it."

Opening her purse and dropping a fifty on the empty plate, she said, "It's the Air Force, asshole. And I'm accepted." She turned and headed for the exit.

Alan was hot on her heels. "Who do you think you're calling an asshole, bitch?! Get back here!" He pushed through the exit door, following her into the parking lot. She was almost to the jeep when he grabbed ahold of her arm and spun her around. "I'm not done talking here. Why did you wait until the night before we left for New Mexico to spring this on me?" The vein in his forehead was throbbing again.

"Don't you get it? I was accepted at Tinker. I'm not going to New Mexico."

She moved to get away from him, but his grip was stronger than she gave him credit for. "You're leaving me? No woman leaves Alan Harrison." He released one of her arms and slapped her across the face. Janet sobbed, more from surprise than actual pain. Alan smirked. "One little slap and the little girl cries. How the hell did you think you'd get through boot camp?" He swept his leg under hers, causing her to crash to the pavement. He stood over her, cracking his knuckles. "Maybe I need to show you what you're in for. A little... hazing ritual."

"Hey, bastard. Try that with someone your own size."

He turned, seeing a tall blonde woman standing a few feet away. Her hands were balled into tight fists, her short blonde hair blowing in the slight breeze. Slowly, she moved towards him, glancing at Janet's form sprawled on the ground. "Big man. Slapping a woman who didn't expect it. You wanna slap me, big shot? You wanna prove you got balls, prove it with me."

Alan looked down at Janet, then smiled at the newcomer. "You want to brawl with me, lady? No problem." He cracked his knuckles again and approached her. "I'll ever give you the first shot."

"Big mistake," the blonde smirked. She moved quicker than he would have imagined, wrapping one fist in the material of his suit jacket to pull him forward and shooting the other forward to connect with the solid bone of his nose. The impact came with a sickening crack and a gush of blood from his nose. She released his jacket and let him fall to his knees. His hands flew to his mouth, trying to staunch the flow.

"You bitch!" he hollered. "You broke my nose!" He stood, blood dripping onto his shirt. He locked onto the blonde's position and charged her. The tall woman caught him with an uppercut to the jaw, knocking him backwards with almost no effort on her part. Alan slammed into the parking lot asphault with a bone-jarring thud.

The blonde stepped up to him, planting the toe of her combat boot between his legs. Alan howled in pain and doubled over, clutching at his crotch. "What d'ya know?" the blonde muttered. "You *do* have balls. Well... you did..."

She turned, kneeling next to Janet. The brunette was shocked, staring at her husband writhe in pain on the asphalt a few feet away. She extended a hand. "You want a ride to a hotel? Something tells me you don't want to be around when this goon wakes up."

Janet laced her fingers with those of the blonde. As they stood, she looked into the sparkling blue eyes of her savior. "Who... are you?"

"I'm Samantha. And we have a lot to talk about."

---

They were on I-40 before Janet realized what had happened back at the restaurant. "Oh, God... Alan's going to be furious!"

Samantha remained quiet behind the wheel, watching the road ahead of her.

Janet looked at the mystery woman for the first time, really looked at her, then began to examine her clothes. She was wearing a black leather jacket over a black t-shirt, causing her to blend into the night around her. The strangest thing was her green cargo pants. They looked like the sort a military officer might wear while off-duty. The short hair was certainly in keeping with the military theory.

Finally, she asked, "Are you from Tinker?"

"No. Not exactly," the blonde replied.

"Janet."

"What?"

"You never asked what my name was. It's Janet."

Samantha looked at the brunette and smiled. She looked back at the road and said, "I have a room booked in your name at the Embassy Suites. You can use it until you get back on your feet." When she finished speaking, she turned to see that Janet was staring at her again. She smiled, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"Why are you doing this for me?" And how did you know what my name was in advance, she mentally added.

The driver's smile faltered slightly. "I... It would have killed me to see you hurt."

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the hotel.

---

Sam opened the door for Janet, letting the brunette slip inside and examine her temporary home away from home. "This... is gorgeous," she whispered. To her left was the bathroom, which had a shower large enough for two people (a function she doubted she would ever be able to try) and a full-length mirror. To her right was a large walk-in closet. And directly in front of her was the king-sized bed with a half dozen pillows and a large comforter spread across the mattress. She entered the room, not bothering to turn on the lights, and carefully sat on the bed.

Across the room, hidden from her view when she was standing in the doorway, was a round table with four chairs that looked out of the sliding glass doors of the balcony. She could see the sparkling waters of the pool several levels below. Sam was still standing in the doorway, watching Janet take in the scene. "You, uh... said we have to talk? I guess I owe you for saving me back there."

Sam moved to the chair and gently sat down, resting her elbows on the table. "There's... a trick to what I have to tell you. I can't reveal much, but I want you to know what I have to say."

"Sounds complicated. Military intelligence sort of thing?"

"In a way."

"Wow. I just joined. Kind of thought it would take a few weeks before I got special treatment."

Sam smiled. "Okay, I can't tell you my last name or... rank... or where I'm stationed. But I owe you for screwing up your history."

"My history?"

Sam closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. "If it weren't for me stepping in back there, Alan would have knocked you unconscious in the parking lot. The police arrived and he was arrested. He would have gotten out tomorrow, tracked you down, and beat you again." She looked at the brunette sitting a few feet away. "Do you doubt any of this is true?"

Janet stared at the tall blonde, the beauty who had barged so suddenly into her life. Her history? This woman was talking like she was from the future... but that was impossible. This wasn't some sci-fi movie. But there was something in those sparkling blue eyes that implored her to believe. Maybe to prove that Alan hadn't completely destroyed her trust in humanity, Janet quietly said, "I believe you."

Sam sighed. "When you recovered, you divorced him. The judge put a restraining order on him, he went into a program, and eventually he decided to stay away from you."

"But you stepped in and... and changed history."

"He's beaten you before, Janet. Broken arms, broken ribs... you always went back." She stood and moved to the bed, kneeling on the floor next to Janet and taking the brunette's hand in her own. "Swear to me. Promise me you're going to end it."

"I will." She frowned as the look of relief washed over Sam's face. "Why is it so important to you? Did he... Did he come back and... kill me?" She choked over the last words. She found it incredible how she had so easily accepted that this woman knew things. The kind eyes stared at her, bore into her soul, as if they had known each other for years.

"No, no, no," Sam whispered, brushing Janet's hair out of her face. "I know how important it was that you got away from him, but couldn't stand knowing you went through all that pain to do it. I couldn't stand to see your scars."

Janet suddenly realized how close the blonde's face was. "Sam? You..."

The blonde pulled back, trying to compose herself. "I... Right. Sorry."

Janet stood. "No. Wait." She closed the distance between them, gazing up into the pale blue eyes of her savior. "Sam... you seem to know a lot about me. About how things turn out."

Sam nodded slowly.

"These feelings I've been having lately. It's not just a... temporary thing, is it?"

Sam cleared her throat, finding it suddenly dry. "Wha-what feelings would you be..."

Janet cut the blonde off by pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Sam moaned into the shorter woman's mouth, her hands tentatively coming up to rest on Janet's shoulders. When they broke apart, the brunette kept her eyes closed. "I've never done that... with another woman..."

Sam rested her cheek on Janet's head. "Janet...."

"Shh," the brunette admonished, wrapping her arms around Sam's waist. They stood in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Janet said, "It would be nice."

"What?" Sam queried, her eyes closed.

"Being with a woman... I've been thinking about it lately. I think... I'd like to try..."

Sam pulled back slightly, looking into Janet's eyes. "But you're still married. I couldn't..."

"Married? If you call what I was in a marriage. That was the definition of mistake. I don't know why I said I would marry him, I don't know why I said I loved him... all I know is that I find you very beautiful. And I want to kiss you again."

Sam lowered her head to meet Janet halfway, their mouths open and tongues searching. Sam released Janet's shoulder with one hand, moving it up to caress Janet's cheek. Refusing to break the kiss, the brunette moved her hands to the shoulders of Sam's jacket and slid the leather aside. Sam straightened her arms, letting the jacket fall to the floor. Janet stepped back, momentarily breaking the kiss to examine Sam's body. "You are... gorgeous..," she whispered huskily. "You shouldn't cover it up with jackets..."

"Or baggy clothes," Sam smiled. At Janet's confused look, she added, "It'll make sense later. C'mere." She pulled Janet close again and their lips met once more. Sam's hands danced across the silk material of Janet's blouse, cupping her breasts and testing their weight. Janet moaned into Sam's mouth, surprised it had gone this far. And even more surprised she wanted it to go further.

Sam placed her hands on Janet's shoulders and spun the smaller woman around, pulling her close so that her back was pressed snugly against her front. She began to explore Janet's neck as her hands moved to the collar of Janet's blouse, working the impossibly large buttons through the equally-impossibly small holes.

Janet reached down, fumbling with the button of her slacks as Sam neared the end of the shirt. They finished at the same time, the brunette letting her pants fall to the floor as Sam slipped the silk blouse off of her shoulders. She shivered as the cool air of the room suddenly made contact with her skin. Sam's warm hands blazed a trail across the smooth skin of Janet's stomach, moving to the lacy material of her bra. She had worn the fancy underwear in the hopes that Alan would notice it, maybe take a half-second to look at her before slamming himself between her legs. The way Sam stared intently at the lingerie, she realized what she had been feeling from the blonde. Love. Whoever this mysterious 'Sam' was, she was actually in love with Janet Fraiser.

Sam's teeth closed gently around Janet's ear, biting it playfully. Janet gasped as her new lover felt out the material of her bra until she found the erect nub of her nipple.

Sam was still covering Janet's neck with kisses and was beginning to move down to her shoulder. Janet pressed against Sam's weight, her breathing coming in shorter and more ragged gasps.  Janet moaned, hooking her thumbs in the straps of her panties. She turned her back to Sam and, with one deft movement, slipped the wet material down her legs and stepped out of them. The motion caused her to bend slightly, pressing her ass into Sam's crotch. The blonde gasped as she looked at the bare curve of Janet's posterior and she turned the brunette around, capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

The brunette accepted Sam's tongue again, holding the blonde tight against her nearly nude body. When Sam tried to cup Janet's face, she found that her cheeks were wet with tears. She broke the kiss, frowning slightly. "Janet? What's wrong, honey?"

Janet shook her head. "Is... this real? Is this really happening?"

"Yes, darling," Sam whispered, gently brushing away a tear with her thumb. "It's real."

Janet ran her fingers through Sam's hair, her eyes searching Sam's face. "With Alan... it's always just so... so..."

"I'm very different from Alan," Sam promised. "Let me show you." Her hands slid up Janet's spine, finding the catch of the fancy bra. The women locked eyes as Sam released the hook and the lace fell away from Janet's body. The brunette shrugged the under-garment the rest of the way off, noticing that Sam's eyes had never left hers.

They remained locked as the blonde's hands slid around Janet's sides, her fingernails lightly tracing the curve of Janet's breasts before cupping them in her palms. The erect nipples pressed into her hands and she squeezed softly as she kissed Janet, this time with no tongue. It was simply a show of caring and love with nothing arousing thrown into it. Which made it all the more arousing.

Janet slipped her hands under the material of Sam's sweater, feeling the electricity as her fingertips came in contact with the bare flesh of another woman. Kissing was one thing, as was letting another woman remove her clothes. This was the point of no return. Stripping another woman? Could she do it? She broke the kiss and began to raise the blonde's shirt. Apparently she could... Sam released Janet's breasts just long enough to raise her arms and let the shirt be peeled away from her.

Janet had done exams in the past, it was part of her job as a medical assistant. But this was the first time she had ever intimately looked at another woman. The pale light from the swimming pool below filtered through the sliding glass doors, casting a beautiful blue haze on everything. Sam stood unafraid in her bra and fatigue pants, allowing herself to be looked over. Janet's eyes scanned the blonde's torso, pausing when she reached the swell of the taller woman's breasts. "What's that?"

Cradled against the curving flesh of Sam's right breast was an oval object, shimmering slightly in the darkness. Sam looked down and covered it with her hand. "It's... nothing, Janet." She slid the hand over her own breasts, moving to the buckle of her belt. Slowly, she undid it and found the button for her pants. As she stepped closer to Janet, she released the catch. The pants slid down her shapely legs to a pool on the floor at her feet.

Janet's breaths were few and far between now. Her eyes constantly darted around Sam's body, trying to see everything at once. Sam gently hooked a finger under Janet's chin and held her face still, their eyes locking again. "Don't try to see everything just yet," Sam whispered. She leaned forward, tracing Janet's lips with her tongue.

Slowly, the two women angled each other to the bed, falling onto the plush mattress amid a jumble of arms and legs. Their lips never parted, their bodies in constant contact. Janet found the catch of Sam's bra buried within her generous cleavage. She popped it, carefully sliding the flimsy material aside until the object of her desire came into sight. Sam's breast was capped by a pale, fully erect nipple, begging to be touched.

She carefully lowered her head, wrapping her lips around the nipple, letting her teeth graze Sam's sensitized skin as her tongue swirled across the soft flesh. Sam moaned, her fingers sliding through Janet's hair.

Janet couldn't believe what she was doing, couldn't believe how much she loved it. Her hands drifted down Sam's stomach of their own volition, sliding under the elastic waistband of Sam's panties. She slid past the moist hairs hidden under the soaked material, gasping when her finger came in contact with smooth, wet skin. She pulled her mouth from Sam's breast and straightened, pulling the blonde close for another kiss as her finger slid over another woman's sex for the first time.

Sam was moaning into the brunette's mouth, her own hands drifting downward. Janet could feel Sam's nimble fingers squeeze her ass. The probing digits slid along the back of her thigh and then curled around her leg to attack from behind. As Sam's fingers massaged the quaking flesh of Janet's inner thigh, her thumb extended to make contact with Janet's clit. Janet moaned, her lips losing contact with Sam's for a moment. Sam trailed kisses along Janet's cheek, finding her ear and swirling her tongue into the canal.

Janet slipped one finger into Sam's dripping slit, her eyes drifting shut when she felt the strong muscles there squeeze in response to her intrusion. Thrusting gently, she pumped her finger into the strong blonde woman she had met less than a half hour ago, adding a second finger to her assault. Sam bit Janet's earlobe softly, whispering sweet nothings that Janet couldn't make out.

Sam's thumb was fully buried between Janet's lower lips and her index finger was threatening to join. Janet forced her eyes open as she gazed at the beautiful woman laying next to her. The blonde's face was covered with a sheen of perspiration, causing her short hair to cling to her face. The blue pool light gave her an almost angelic quality. Her lips were parted to allow gasping breaths to be emitted, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Finally, Janet quietly whispered, "Samantha..."

As Sam opened her eyes, she immediately caught Janet's gaze. Deep blue eyes drowned in chocolate brown. They closed their distance between them, kissing hungrily. Janet felt a trickle of warm honey spill against her fingers, pooling in her palm. The knowledge that Sam was climaxing was enough to throw her over the edge. She moaned loudly, sucking on Sam's lower lip as she began to cum, humping against Sam's probing hand. Both women writhed, their hands unmoving. They shared passionate kisses as they both climaxed, each one covering the other's hand with sweet juices. When they had both recovered, they slid their hands free. Janet worked her hand out of Sam's panties and placed a loving kiss on Sam's nose.

"Alan... never made me climax like that."

Sam smiled. "Glad I could help," she whispered. She curved her hand against Janet's face, gently leading the brunette's head to the pillow. "You have to sleep now," Sam said, her eyes filled with tears.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Shh," she shook her head, obviously forcing herself not to cry. "I wish..."

"You wish? Sam, what's the matter?"

Sam laid her head on the pillow next to Janet, their faces mere inches apart. "Sleep now. I'll... I'll explain everything when we wake up."

Janet nodded, falling asleep as she gazed at the beauty she had just made love to. Her first female lover. She smiled as she was fading out of consciousness. The one she would always remember.

---

When Janet woke an indeterminate time later, Sam was gone. Her clothes had been gathered and a note lay on the pillow that she had laid her head on.

Janet,

I'm so sorry. But I can't stay. I wish to God I could, but it's just not possible. I hope one day you'll understand. I love you more than life itself.

Samantha C."

Janet curled her legs up, hugging them against her chest. She clutched the note tightly and began to sob in the empty hotel suite.

Chapter 2

~Now~

Janet gasped, sitting up in bed. The dream... or maybe it had been a nightmare... faded as quickly as sleep had. She couldn't remember exactly what had startled her awake, but knew it had something to do with her dream. She looked at the form curled quietly next to her, the tousled blonde hair framing the most beautiful face Janet had ever seen. The clock read 5:41. She didn't have to be at the base until eight, but she doubted it would be worth going back to sleep now.

She slipped out of bed, picking a pair of jeans out of the hamper. The jeans were the tight pair that always made Sam drool, and eventually led to the denim being tossed aside not long after they had been put on. She slid the pants on, taking a breath before she buttoned up. Patting her stomach, she shook her head. "Definitely have to get a new pair of tight jeans," she whispered.

"I kinda like that pair."

She turned, smiling at her lover. Sam was propped up on one elbow, looking at her through half-lidded eyes. "Hi, Sam. Go back to sleep," she whispered.

"You have a nightmare, honey?"

"Not really... just can't sleep." She walked to the bed and kissed Sam. "Get a little more rest, sweetheart. I'll wake you around seven," she promised, not knowing when the major had to be in that day.

"'Kay," Sam agreed, cradling her pillow tightly. "Love you."

"I love you, too," Janet whispered. She pulled a flannel shirt from the closet and slipped her arms through the sleeves, buttoning only the top few buttons.

Quietly, she made her way out the door and into the darkened hallway. Pressing her ear to Cassie's bedroom door, she could hear the girl's radio playing softly. Janet frowned a bit, knowing that she slept with the radio on when she got scared or missed her family on Hanka. She almost opened the door to wake her daughter, maybe talk about what was bothering her, but decided against it. The last thing a teenager wanted was her mom barging on while she slept. Janet continued down the hall, going down the carpeted stairs in her bare feet.

In the living room, Cassie's dog Jack approached her, brushing against her legs. "Hey, Jack. Wanna go outside, boy? Do ya?" The dog licked her hand, wrapping himself around her and bouncing slightly as if he were trying to stand upright. She ruffled the hair on top of his head and pulled open the back door. Jack bounded past her and darted across the lawn, snapping at crickets. The dog was extraordinary; he never barked before the sun was up. Janet sometimes marveled at this quirk in the dog's character, but decided not to question it too much. If she thought about it, it might disappear.

The sun was starting to crest the foothills east of town, a thin halo of yellow beginning to spread across the sky. She dropped onto the bench of the picnic table, resting her head on her hand. The dream had been something to do with Alan. That much she knew. The only dreams that woke her up gasping were those involving her ex-husband. Unfortunately, those had been coming more often lately, since their run-in with the imposter at the lake.

She jumped as she felt a pair of hands sliding over her back, turning slightly on the bench seat. Sam lowered herself to the bench and lightly nuzzled the nape of the brunette's neck. "Hi," she said. Her hands completed their trek on Janet's stomach, her fingers intertwined and she laid her hands on Janet's stomach. Janet smiled, leaning back to rest herself on Sam. The blonde accepted the weight, holding Janet quietly. Finally, she asked, "What's so important you got out of bed at quarter to six?"

"Things," Janet said, still watching the sun try to pull itself over the mountains. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Gorgeous," Sam agreed, looking at the woman in her arms instead of the sunrise.

Janet rested her hands over Sam's and smiled. "I love this. Just you and me without... anything between us. This is my favorite place, my favorite time of day. I wish I could stop the clock right here."

Sam pressed a soft kiss to the brunette's temple. "I love you, Janet."

Janet began humming softly, just living in the feeling of Sam's warm body pressed against hers, the soft breath that blew past her ear. After Janet had been humming for a few seconds, Sam began to sing along with the melody. "If I could save time in a bottle..."

Janet joined in. "The first thing that I'd want to do..."

Together, they softly sang, "Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away just to spend them with you..."

Sam sighed, resting her cheek on the top of Janet's head. "I have to be at the base in half an hour. I should probably start getting ready."

Janet tightened her grip on Sam's hands. "Just... hold me a little longer?"

"Sure," Sam whispered. "Sure." She settled back in on the seat and hugged the brunette's petite form to her own.

As the two women held each other in the ever-brightening sunlight, Janet finally asked, "Sam... have you ever been to Oklahoma?"

---

Sam ran her fingers through her hair, kneeling next to a still stream that cut through the surrounding desert terrain like someone had dragged their finger through the sand and filled it with water carried from elsewhere. She craned her neck, her gaze following the river first to the east, then to the west. There was no discernable source for the stream, but she was thankful for it's presence nonetheless. She dipped her hands into the waters and brought a handful to her face, washing away the three hours of hiking they had done.

Daniel sat a few inches away, massaging his toes through the material of his boots. "There's a reason we can't air out our feet. Right?"

Sam smiled, feeling for the archaeologist in this situation. "Sorry, Daniel. If you took off your boots now, your feet would swell. You'd never get them back on."

Daniel sighed and moved to the water's edge. "I suppose I should be thankful for the break, huh?" He reached down, brushing his fingers through the water. Teal'c stood watch, not showing any signs of being bothered by the heat of the hike. It was the thing Sam disliked most about the Jaffa.

She sighed, smiling in his direction. "You sure you're okay, Teal'c? Don't want to take a sip?"

"I am fine, Major Carter." He scanned the horizon for the hundreth time, despite the fact that no one could sneak up on them across the several thousand acres of clear, dry land that surrounded them.

A few yards upstream, Jack O'Neill was laying with the lower half of his body on the shore, while everything from the waist up was submerged. When he could hold his breath no longer, he pushed himself out of the water with a hefty, "Hee-yeap!" He dashed to the shore, shaking his body dry as he danced in the sudden heat. Teal'c ignored Colonel O'Neill's hysterics, calmly returning the man's weapons and jacket. "Whoo, boy," Jack laughed. "That was refreshing! You wanna take a dip, Carter? We can have a little wet t-shirt contest." He winked playfully.

Sam stood and brushed off the knees of her pants. "No need, sir. I'm ready to go. Daniel?"

He sighed. "I suppose I am... how long until the next rest stop?"

Going back to the UAV readings, Sam reluctantly said, "Another four clicks, I'm afraid."

Daniel's blue eyes widened behind his glasses. "Uhh, actually... this may be a hot bed of Goa'uld activity. I think one of us should stay behind in case any show up. Just to be safe. And since it was my idea, I volunteer!"

Jack slapped the young man on the back and said, "Dodging duty, Danny? That's so unlike you." He grinned and replaced the green cap on his head. "Let's move 'em out, campers."

Sam looked longingly at the shimmering blue stream she was leaving behind and sighed. "Right behind you, sir."

---

Twenty minutes later, Sam thought she actually spotted something that would make this trip worthwhile. "Colonel! Over there!"

She pointed across the desert sand, through the shifting heat lines that rose from the surface of the burning planet. O'Neill and the others turned, shielding their already goggle-protected eyes from the glare of PJ7-461's twin suns. Across the sands, they could make out a figure standing in long blue robes. "What d'ya think, Daniel? A local?"

"No sign of civilization according to the UAV. The only structure we spotted was the temple and that had apparently been abandoned for centuries." He shielded his eyes again. "Of course, that wouldn't explain the woman we're seeing, does it?"

"What makes you think it's a woman?" Jack asked.

"What makes you think it's not a woman?"

Jack turned to Sam. "Is that a valid answer?"

Sam shrugged and said, "I think it's a moot point now, anyway, sir. She just disappeared."

Jack turned back to where the figure, the woman, had been standing a few seconds before. As Sam had said, the horizon was now clear. He adjusted his cap and squinted, scanning the area around the sighting. "She couldn't have just disappeared."

Daniel shrugged. "It's not like it's a completely unheard of phenomenon. The Nox could disappear at will..."

"I remember the Nox world being a little nicer than this one," Jack grumbled. "A bit more temperate. Come on. We have a long way to go before we reach that temple. We don't have time to chase down ghosts."

Reluctantly, Sam moved on, still scanning the horizon for the robed mystery figure.

---

The temple stood in the center of nothing, surrounding by nothing, flanked by dust devils. As it appeared on the horizon in front of the team, they assumed they were witnessing another mirage. The sun-bleached walls blended into the surrounding terrain, causing the edges of the building to blur. Daniel brushed a hand across his forehead, pulling his cap off. "Is that the temple?"

Teal'c nodded, a few beads of sweat beginning to form on his upper lip. "I believe it is, Daniel Jackson."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Let's hope they have some shade."

As they approached the structure, Sam turned and looked back the way they had come. Standing in the clouds of dust kicked up by the arid wind, she caught a glimpse of flowing blue robes. She almost called out to the others, but the image vanished before she could say anything. She loosened her grip on her gun and followed the others, deciding not to mention the latest sighting. It was just a mirage, after all. What harm could a mirage do?

The front of the temple was separated into three separate doors, which appeared to lead down three different hallways. Jack sighed, looking at the three different options in front of him. "Well, kids, one's gonna be too hot. The other will be too cold."

Daniel muttered, "And one's just right. But which is which?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess we have to look and see. Teal'c, stand watch. In the shade, if you can." The Jaffa nodded slightly, admitting that the heat was beginning to bother him. "Carter, you take the far right, Danny take the far left. If you find anything.... scream your lungs out."

"Yes, sir," Sam smiled.

The team split up and took their assigned doors. Sam relished the shade the moment she stepped into it, leaning against the wall with a deep sigh. Brushing the sleeve of her brown jacket across her forehead, she looked ahead of her into the darkness, shining her flashlight down the corridor. A few yards ahead, it curved gently to the left. Maybe the tunnels all intersected farther down, she thought. Pushing away from the wall, she continued into the temple. Following the curve, she hoped she would be meeting with Jack and Daniel. No such luck. The corridor ended soon after the curve and she stepped into a huge room. Judging by the dimensions the UAV sent back for this building, this room had to take up most of the interior. It was bathed by a soft, yellow light whose source Sam couldn't find. Rows of tables stretched from one wall to the other, all covered with drawings, sketches, designs and hunks of metals that ranged in size from the very small to almost falling off of the table.

As Sam slowly entered the room, her gun at ready, she spotted a blue-robed woman sitting next to one of the devices. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of goggles that were hooked up to one of the metallic objects laying on the table. Sam was about to say something when the woman removed the goggles and stood, smiling warmly at her.

Sam recognized the blue robes. "You're the woman we saw on the horizon, aren't you?"

The woman bowed slightly. "I am Iole. I have been awaiting your arrival."

"You've what?" She decided not to wait for the answer. She held the mic on the collar of her jacket and said, "Colonel, I found the person who lives here," she scanned the tables. "Or works here." A pause. "Sir? Do you read?"

"They are separated from you now. They must not intrude on what must happen."

Sam took a step back. "What must happen?"

Iole was quicker than Sam gave her credit for. In the space of a second, she had closed the distance between them, ripped the gun from her hands, pulled the jacket and vest open and was gently probing the flesh of Sam's chest, just above the swell of her breast. "What do you think you're doing?"

Iole ignored the question, pulling the t-shirt apart and exposing Sam's regulation bra. Sam swung at the raven-haired woman, but the alien effortlessly dodged the blow. She had palmed a small, oval-shaped device in her hand and she held it up now to show it to the startled major. "This will be painful at first." With no other warning, she slapped the object against the skin of Sam's upper breast, holding it there until something in the device injected itself into the blonde's flesh.

Sam screamed, grabbing at the device. It was more painful that the Tok'ra memory device. Iole gently pulled Sam's hands away, saying softly, "You must not remove it until it has completed what it is supposed to do."

The major screamed again, reminded of the pain of Jolinar's torture. Whatever the device was, it was spreading within her body to fill her completely. She fell to the hard stone of the floor, writhing and convulsing as whatever the device was releasing into her body continued to spread.

Iole placed her hands on Sam's shoulders holding the woman still. A soft yellow light began to eminate from Iole's hands, spreading across Sam's torso. The glow was visible even through the heavy jacket she wore. The blonde's convulsions faded slightly, her grimace gently relaxing. Iole said, "You must complete the Journey of Tu'artes."

"Wha... is that?" Sam weakly asked.

"In time," Iole promised. "You will learn enough in time. Trust me." She wrapped her arms around the quaking major. The glow from Iole's hands spread, covering both women in a shimmering orb of brightness. When the light faded, both women had disappeared along with it.

~Nowhere~

She felt herself floating suddenly. There was only one other time she had been, so free of sensations, so untethered...

When Sam was five years old, her father had taken her swimming at a local lake. She had never been in water deeper than the bath at their house and she was understandably afraid. She remembered walking down the dock, one of her hands gripping her father's, the other in her slightly older brother Mark's. They approached the edge and Sam could feel her heart beat as she looked down into the shimmering waters. Some thirty years later, when she first saw the Stargate, she would liken the experience to this.

She felt her father's fingers press gently against her back, telling her not to be afraid of the water. Mark went first, showing her how easy it was. He extended his arms, planning to catch her when Jacob lowered her.

Somehow, she had misunderstood their intentions. She didn't know they had wanted her lowered gently into the lake. She didn't know her father was seconds away from lifting her and handing her to her brother. She closed her eyes and jumped as far as she could go. She heard Mark gasp in surprise as she catapulted past him.

Her father screamed her name, paralyzed by fear. Her tiny body hit the water with a mighty splash, surrounding her with the immense sound. And then, silence. She had never felt such peace. Quietly, her little body hung suspended between the surface and the mud below. She could hear filtered sounds all around her, muffled by the water pressing against her ears. Silent, yet boisterous. The ease with which she hung in space was astounding. In her entire life, she had silently wished to return to the peace she felt during the seconds before her father lifted her back into the loud world. She didn't care that she had almost drowned... all she wanted was the peace of being *nowhere.*

She had finally rediscovered it.

She took a deep breath, thankful she wasn't underwater. But nothing pressed against her feet or back. Nothing held her where she lay. Slowly, she maneuvered herself so that she was, in her perspective, standing. A white haze surrounded her, so she couldn't be sure which direction was up. The entire plane of existance seemed to be lilting slightly, like a car on a Ferris wheel.

"Are you prepared, Samantha?"

She turned, following the direction of the voice. The woman in the blue robe. Iole. "What is this place?" she whispered.

"It is my land. My home. I have brought you here to explain what you must undergo."

"Undergo?"

"Yes. For reasons I cannot explain at this time, you have been chosen to pass through the Journey of Tu'artes. You shall visit important events of your past and, if feasable, change them for the better. You will travel through your relationship and see what you may have done wrong. To learn what you must atone for. To prepare for what is to come."

"See my own future?" Sam asked, skeptical.

"Yes. Not everything, mind you. Select images which I shall choose."

"How do you know the future?"

"I do not. I know of the past. It is only the future to those who have yet to experience it."

"You're from the future? Time travel is impossible."

Iole extended a hand. "Take my hand in yours. I shall accompany you on the Journey of Tu'artes. Then perhaps you will see that not everything can be explained by your science."

Sam looked at the slender fingers of the raven-haired alien. Reluctantly, she reached out and wrapped her hand around Iole's.

Like her father violently ripping her from the peace of the lake so many years ago, Sam was torn from her tranquility in the blink of an eye.

Chapter 3

~Then- 1983~

Sam stared across the table at the attractive redhead that was dining with her. Cortney Roe picked at the salad in front of her, occassionally pausing to pop a tomato or crouton into her pouty red lips. She looked up suddenly, catching Sam's eyes. She smiled that devastating smile of hers and said, "What?"

Realizing she had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, Sam looked down at the remains of the steak on her plate. With a self-conscious smile, she said, "I was just wishing I had the willpower to stop at the salad."

Cortney smiled, picking up a leaf of lettuce and dipping it in her salad dressing. "It's a matter of the right side dishes." She extended the green over the center of the table. "Here."

Sam plucked the lettuce from her friend's hand, sniffing the dressing before eating it. "Italian?"

Cortney nodded, noticing a drop of the Italian dressing had slipped onto her index finger. Slowly, she lifted it to her lips and flicked the trail with her tongue. Sam sat, mesmerized by the flicker of pink as the redhead cleaned off her finger. She looked back at Sam. "What do you think?"

"Heavenly," she whispered, forgetting about the salad.

Cortney chuckled. "Wow. I don't think it's quite *that* good..."

Sam blinked, realizing her surroundings. "Oh... uh, I suppose we should get going, huh? School night and all."

Cortney winked. "No rest for the scientist, huh? What was your major? Astrophysics?"

"Not all of us can be theater majors, babe." They gathered their belongings and made their way to the door, slipping into the dark parking lot as Cortney searched for her keys. Sam shivered slightly in the cold, looking at the flickering street light over her friend's car. The parking lot of the restaurant was enclosed inside of a wooden fence, with bushes planted every few feet to hide the fact that it was almost fully enclosed. "It's cold out here..."

Cortney had her coat draped over her arm and tossed it to the blonde. "Slip into this," she offered. "I don't even notice the cold."

As the other girl continued to search her purse for her keys, Sam noticed her nipples poking against the material of her sweater. 'But the cold obviously notices you,' Sam thought. She shook her head. 'Stop that, Samantha! You can't be attracted to a woman... not if you plan to make it very far in the Air Force.'

Cortney pulled the clinking keyring from her purse with a triumphant yelp, holding the keys like they were trophies. "Got it!"

The next few seconds passed like a stop-motion movie. A black glove closed around Cortney's forearm, pulling it back and pushing the redhead against her car. Sam gasped, trying to find the breath to scream as the masked man pulled the keys from Cortney's hands. Sam lurched forward, grabbing the man's jacket and trying to pull him off of her friend. As she wrapped her fingers in his jacket, he spun and lashed at her with his left hand. She backed up a step, fearing he was armed.

Her fears were confirmed as she felt a numb stinging spread from her thumb to her pinkie finger. He had cut her hand open with some kind of knife and was still brandishing the weapon. The man laughed, his voice hollow and thick. "I hit the motha load tonight," he rasped. As he took a step towards Sam, the strangest thing happened.

The attacker was hurled to the side, the effect of the object that had appeared from nowhere slamming into his side. The object, it turned out, was a tall blonde woman who was fighting with enough furvor to steal the man's attention. He rose to his feet, looking at his newest opponent. He looked from the newcomer to Sam, then frowned. "Geez, baby. You go on gay dates with ya momma?"

Sam grabbed Cortney, checking to make sure she was okay. The blonde woman, without turning around, said, "Go! I'll hold this bastard off."

Cortney pulled her door open as Sam ran around to the passenger side. As Sam slipped into the car, she spotted the blonde lunge at the mugger again. Cortney pressed the gas and sped out of the parking spot, probably leaving a twin set of rubber marks in her wake.

---

Samantha Carter, the one who had just been hurtled into the past, smiled at her attacker. "Mom, huh? I'll show you Mom," she said, bringing her boot around to connect with the mugger's head. His body jerked violently to the side, crumpling to the ground. Sam pulled him to his feet, forcing him to stand in front of her. "All these years, I wondered what you looked like, you asshole. Time for an unmasking..."

She pulled the mask away and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She was standing inches away from the man who had attacked her in the parking lot so many years ago. The man who had cut her hand with his big, ugly knife. The man who had haunted her dreams ever since that day. The man who had, when finding nothing in Cortney's purse, slit the redhead's throat without a second thought.

"You son of a bitch," she whispered. "God..." She head-butted him, knocking him to the ground.

She was shaking violently when Iole approached. "What is it, Samantha?"

Sam looked at the crumpled form in front of her. "I... always imagined some sort of monster of a man. Kind of your run-of-the-mill movie monster. I always saw steely eyes, a scar on his cheek, some kind of tattoo... This guy is just *normal.* That's scarier than the scar or tattoo."

Iole placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Are you prepared to leave? We have far to go."

"I changed history," she whispered. "Cortney doesn't die. What happens when we get back to her home?"

"I believe you know the answer."

Sam searched her memory, recalling the mugger being attacked by a mysterious blonde. Her eyes widened as she began to remember what else happened that night. "Wow... I do know."

Iole extended a hand. "Come now. We must travel far."

---

Sam, the one who had never even heard of a Stargate, nervously followed Cortney into the bathroom. The redhead was holding Sam's uncut hand, leading the way. "I can't believe you attacked that guy," Cortney said. "He was huge!"

They stopped next to the sink and Sam let Cortney place her hand under the faucet washing away the blood that had oozed from the wound. The redhead winced at the cut, shaking her head. "You got a pretty nasty gash because of me," she said.

"He probably would've come after me, too," Sam said softly. In the original history, in fact, he had been scared away by a maitré'd who had called the police. She was mesmerized by Cortney's slender fingers brushing against her sensitive skin.

Cortney, in turn, was fascinated by the skin she stroked. Slowly, she raised her head to look into Sam's blue eyes. "Take off your dress."

Sam's eyes widened. "What? Uh... wha... what?"

Cortney looked down at the denim material of Sam's denim dress. The row of buttons that led from Sam's chest down to mid-thigh were all that stood between her and total nudity, but she could see what had provoked the redhead's statement. In the car, she had rested her cut hand in her lap, resulting in a large bloodstain. Sheepishly, Sam raised her head. "I, uh... don't exactly have anything else to wear."

"You can wear your underwear," Cortney shrugged. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"No, ah..." Sam tried to say. "I'm not wearing anything *but* the dress."

A slight flush appeared in Cortney's cheeks. "Oh." After a moment, she shrugged. "Well... again, nothing I haven't seen before."

Sam's heartrate began to climb. Nervously, she began to undo the top buttons of her dress. Cortney, seeing the blood continuing to ooze from the gash on the blonde's hand, swatted those hands away. "You can't get blood on the buttons. Let me do that," she offered. Sam lowered her hands obediently to her sides, watching in fascination as Cortney's beautiful fingers began to loosen the large buttons.

When the last one was freed, Cortney reached up and slid the material off of her friend's shoulders. "Wow, Sam! You have a really nice body."

Sam blushed, looking away. "It's kind of embarrassing."

The next instant would, from that moment on, be burned in Sam's memory. Cortney leaned forward and ever-so-gently brushed her lips across Sam's. The redhead's gentle fingers moved to Sam's face, barely brushing her cheek with her fingertips. Sam gasped, parting her lips. Her friend took it as an invitation, slipping her tongue into the soft warmth of the blonde's mouth.

When they pulled apart, after what seemed like hours, Sam's face had acquired a deep crimson hue. She smiled slowly, touching her lips to see if she could actually feel the kiss. She locked eyes with Cortney and said, "That was nice."

"You liked that, did ya?" Cortney was almost as breathless as Sam.

"Can we... do it again?"

"Later," Cortney smirked. "We have to get you in some old clothes and take you to the hospital. This needs stitches."

Sam leaned forward, pressing her lips to Cortney's. "I can't wait," she breathed.

Cortney just smiled.

---

Sam was back in the white place again. Her eyes were closed tightly, her mind racing. History was rewriting itself across her memory. The recollection of Cortney's sad funeral a few days later began to fade, replaced by long nights spent cuddling in the redhead's dorm room. Memories of Sam's first real girlfriend - Sara - were replaced by memories of her good friend Sara. She was aware of when Cortney graduated, leaving Sam to chase her dreams in Hollywood. They had savored one final tryst when Sam graduated and Cortney dropped in as a surprise gift. Sam opened her eyes, finding that Iole was standing a few feet away. "You allowed me to change it?" she asked.

"You have always had a question in your mind, Samantha. Do you recall your first encounter with a woman in the original timeline?"

Sam nodded, a bit unsure. "Yeah... I, ah, I was at a party and had a little too much to drink. I ended up in bed with Sara and we... well, we had a long talk the next morning." She smiled at the fading memory.

"But you always questioned whether it was the right thing. It was the reason you insisted on pretending to have feelings for Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"What? I... had feelings for him."

Iole shook her head slowly. "You fixated on the one person that it was forbidden for you to have. You insisted on referring to yourself as bisexual when... Samantha, who was your last male lover?"

She averted her eyes slightly. "I guess... it was Jonas."

"And have you had any feelings for a male since meeting Janet Fraiser?"

The answer was firm and immediate. "No."

Iole smiled and extended a hand. "Come now. We must travel again."

~Then- 1989~

Janet Fraiser-Harrison picked up her bottle of perfume, dabbing a bit on each wrist and smelling the fragrance before applying a bit behind her ears. Replacing the bottle on her dresser, she gazed at herself in the mirror. She was absolutely gorgeous, if she did say so herself. And, actually, she did. Stepping back, she adjusted the straps of her bosom-enhancing brassiere. Alan liked his women 'stacked and relaxed.' She sighed and turned sideways, smoothing the dress over her stomach and examining her silhouette.

"Who knows," she whispered. "Maybe someone besides Alan will rip this off of you tonight." She raised her eyebrow and giggled. It was something she had said to herself before every night out since her marriage had started going downhill. It was nice to dream, she thought. With a final sigh, she slipped out of the bedroom and walked down the hall to the den.

Alan looked up from the TV and said, "You finally done?" He pulled himself up, straightening his jacket. "We're gonna eat good tonight, honeybuns."

She winced at his nickname for her and attempted a weak smile. "Where?"

"You'll see when we get there." He rubbed his hand over her ass, squeezing it roughly. "Damn, baby... Can't wait to get you home tonight."

'Why, so you can get me naked, go limp and fall asleep? Can't wait,' she thought. She wished she had the guts to say it aloud, but she could never say something like that to Alan. She simply smiled and followed him out of the house.

---

Sam backed away from the window, turning to Iole. "What is this? Why are we here?"

"Something happens tonight, Samantha. But you must not change it. I brought you here for the purpose of hopefully understanding your lover better. Understanding what she went through, why she left her husband. It is something painful for her to relate. I do this so you will be aware."

"What happens?"

Iole lowered her head. "Tonight, Janet reveals to her husband that she joined the Air Force. He reacted... badly. When they were in the parking lot, he beat her until she was unconscious. When she woke, she filed charges against him and he was arrested. He got out the following day and found her at her best friend's house. He beat her again, putting her in the hospital. It is what provoked her to finally end their marriage."

"My god... is he still like that?"

"He finally succumbed to counseling and agreed to leave Janet alone."

Sam shivered, remembering their run-in with the alien at the lake. She shook her head. "I can't let her be hurt like that. I have to stop it from happening."

"Samantha... he has hurt her before. If he doesn't beat her in the parking lot, it will unravel the entire sequence of events. She may never leave him."

"Then I'll make sure she does. Give me four hours."

"To do what?"

"To save Janet!" Sam pleaded. "I'll save her from getting beaten and make sure she leaves this bastard for good. Just give me four hours... and a jacket."

"Jacket?"

"I need a leather jacket," she said. With a slight shrug, she said, "Janet likes me in leather."

Iole sighed. "Four hours, Samantha. I will return for you then."

Sam nodded. "Four hours is all I need. Four hours and... where they're going."

---

Sam approached the vestibule of the all-night depository, leaning on the counter. "Hi, uh... I need some cash out of my account."

"Name," the bored clerk sighed, looking at her through his thick-rimmed glasses.

"Carter, Samantha Lynn. I have an account with your Denver, Colorado branch. Account number 120719812190078." She was amazed she remembered the number after all of these years, but hid her surprise.

"Do you have any ID?"

She winced. "Uh... not with me. I lost my wallet. I could sign something. The signatures would match up."

The clerk looked at her through the glass, then looked at the screen of his computer. Sam looked as well, shocked by the ancient look the device had. "God... how old is that thing?"

The clerk frowned. "This is brand new."

"Right... I suppose it would be."

"Look, lady, the computer says Samantha Lynn Carter was born in 1965. No offense, but you don't exactly look like you're 24."

She checked her watch. "Can I just sign? The signatures would match up."

"Sure. Sign. It'll take about three weeks for us to compare with the Denver branch."

"Three weeks?!"

"We have to send the signature to Denver. They have to compare and then send back some kind of confirmation."

Sam groaned. "Please, I just... I'm completely broke, I've never been to Oklahoma before and it's imperitive I get money."

"Sorry, ma'am. Without a form of ID, there's nothing I can do."

She turned, heading for the door. As she entered the parking lot, she ran her hands through her hair. "You look like the world's been a little rude to you."

She turned, seeing a small old lady standing next to the entrance of the all-night bank. She was clutching her purse tightly in her withered hands. Sam sighed and said, "You could say that."

The old woman stepped forward. "I overheard you say you've never been in Oklahoma before."

"That's right."

The woman sighed. "Roll up your sleeves."

"What?"

"The sleeves. Roll them up."

Confused, Sam pulled off her leather jacket and rolled her sleeves up. "Look, I really don't have the time to..."

The woman shushed her, inspecting the flesh of Sam's arms. Satisfied with what she had found, she began to dig in her purse. "My son is some big shot out in New York... sends his dear old mom some money every week even though I tell him not to. Most times I come here and put it back in his bank account." She chuckled. "He's never noticed..." She pulled a white envelope out of her purse and handed it to Sam. "I checked your arms. You're not a junkie. But don't let a good woman down and buy drugs with it."

Sam looked at the extended money. "Is... this a joke?"

"I don't want it. My son wants to give it away. I think it's a pretty good idea this is free money." She smiled sweetly. "The only things people need money so desperately for are either life or death situations or drugs. I told you I checked your arms, you don't smell drunk. So that leaves life or death. Take the money, sweety."

Sam sighed. "I... I couldn't even pay you back until... God, I don't know when."

"There's over three hundred in there. That should help your problems." She pulled Sam's face down and placed a small kiss on the blonde's forehead. "Go. I doubt you have much time."

Sam looked at the money in her hand, then said, "I... I don't know how to thank you."

"Go!" the old woman laughed. "Don't worry about thanking me. Just go do what you have to do!" 

Jogging out of the parking lot, Sam looked over her shoulder at the slowly diminishing figure of the small woman. The woman waved again, then disappeared back into the Western Union.

Sam wished she had gotten the name of her savior, but realized she had a job to finish.

---

A well-lit payphone stood outside of the Sportsman's Club, positioned on a corner so that she could watch the exit closely as she made the call. "Yes, I'm calling to reserve a room for Janet Fraiser. F-R-A-I-S-E-R. Starting tonight and staying until... um, how much will two hundred cover? Great. Until then."

"I'm not done talking here. Why did you wait until the night before we left for New Mexico to spring this on me?"

Sam turned towards the source of the disturbance. It was Alan, a younger version of the man who had apparently attacked them at Lake Canton a few months ago... or was it a few years from now? Glancing at Janet, Sam realized the brunette was as beautiful as she had been earlier that night. Her hair was slightly mussed, but the loosened strands framed and accentuated her face. Alan was holding Janet's arm tightly, painfully. Sam moved towards the scene, as if in slow motion.

Janet hissed at her husband, "Don't you get it? I was accepted at Tinker. I'm not going to New Mexico."

Sam was jogging. She was too far! He was going to hurt her!

"You're leaving me? No woman leaves Alan Harrison." He released one of her arms and slapped her across the face. Sam winced, ordering more power to her legs as he continued, "One little slap and the little girl cries. How the hell did you think you'd get through boot camp?" He swept his leg under hers, causing her to crash to the pavement. He stood over her, cracking his knuckles. "Maybe I need to show you what you're in for. A little... hazing ritual."

Sam was close enough to be a threat. She stopped, balling her hands into tight fists. "Hey, bastard," she called. "Try that with someone your own size."

Not more than two minutes later, Alan was sprawled on the pavement, holding his shattered nose. Blood poured over his chin onto his shirt and jacket. Sam stepped up to him, planting the toe of her combat boot between his legs. Alan howled in pain and doubled over, clutching at his crotch. "What d'ya know?" the blonde muttered. "You *do* have balls. Well... you did..."

She turned, kneeling next to Janet. The brunette was shocked, staring at her husband writhe in pain on the asphalt a few feet away. Sam extended a hand to her future lover. "You want a ride to a hotel? Something tells me you don't want to be around when this goon wakes up."

Janet laced her fingers with those of the blonde. As they stood, she looked into the sparkling blue eyes of her savior. "Who... are you?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I'm Samantha. And we have a lot to talk about."

---

"Alan," Janet sighed, basking in the glow of her orgasm, "never made me climax like that."

Sam smiled. "Glad I could help," she whispered. She curved her hand against Janet's face, gently leading the brunette's head to the pillow. "You have to sleep now," Sam said, her eyes filled with tears.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Shh," she shook her head, obviously forcing herself not to cry. "I wish..."

"You wish? Sam, what's the matter?"

Sam laid her head on the pillow next to Janet, their faces mere inches apart. "Sleep now. I'll... I'll explain everything when we wake up."

Janet nodded, her eyes slowly closing. Sam looked down at the brunette, smiling. 'I was her first,' she thought. 'I was Janet's first female lover.' The thought sent chills down Sam's spine. But... she checked her watch. Her time was almost up. Quietly, she slipped from the bed and began gathering her clothes. She dressed quickly, not allowing herself a final look at the bed. Sitting in the chair around the table in the hotel suite, Sam picked up a pen and chewed the tip before writing a quick note.

"Janet,

 I'm so sorry. But I can't stay. I wish to God I could, but it's just not possible. I hope one day you'll understand. I love you more than life itself.

Samantha C."

"Are you prepared?" She looked up to see Iole standing on the balcony. "We must continue the journey of tu'artes."

Brushing a tear away, Sam turned and placed the note on the pillow. She kissed the brunette's temple and whispered, "I love you, Janet."

As she moved to brush a stray hair out of her lover's face, the entire bed began to glow brightly. Sam backed up, then realized that *she* had begun to glow. In seconds, she was back in the white room where everything had started.

She turned. "Where else do we have to go?" Sam asked.

"To right a wrong that was made."

---

~Then- Not Long Ago~

A drunkened Samantha Carter stumbled into the bathroom, flipping on the light as she went. Straightening, she saw her reflection in the mirror and began to straighten her clothes. Squinting, she leaned forward. The mirror wasn't doing what she was. It wasn't reflecting right... To test her theory, Sam waved at her double.

The double didn't return the wave.

"Who're you?" Sam slurred.

The other Sam stepped out of the shower, approaching her twin. "I'm you, but a few weeks older. And I know what you're planning to do."

Drunk Sam turned, finally finding the real mirror. She had been facing the shower, not the mirror. She shook her head and said, "Movin' on... Janet gone... Amy gone. I gotta move on, babe."

Sam stepped forward, looking at her double's reflection. "Janet's not gone. You'll find a way to save her. But if you sleep with Charlotte, that will ruin your relationship with Janet."

"Wha? How?"

Sam sat on the closed toilet seat. "Imagine you sleep with Charlotte. And then... then you get Janet back and everything is fine. Except you know that you were unfaithful to her. You'll want to tell her, it will be the only thing on your mind when you're making love, but you can't. There's never a right enough time. So it festers."

Drunk Sam turned, looking at her twin. "You from the foochure?"

"Like a wound," Sam continued, not hearing herself. "You can't sleep with Charlotte. It won't be anything but a mistake."

Drunk Sam sighed, leaning forward. "Ch'rlotte's real pretty..."

"I know," Sam said. "But... you love Janet. More than life. Right?"

Drunk Sam sniffed, nodding. "Don't sleep with Charlotte. No matter how much you may want to. Trust me, okay?" She hugged her counterpart tightly.

The door to the bathroom opened and Charlotte poked her head in. "Sam? You okay?"

Sam raised her head, realizing she was alone in the bathroom. She brushed away her tears and turned to Charlotte. Wincing slightly and rubbing a gentle circle on her forehead, she said, "I'm... going to go home. Can you drive me?"

Charlotte frowned. "I thought... we were..."

Sam shook her head. "I, uh... had a talk with myself."

---

Iole and Sam were perched on top of Charlotte's house when the doctor's car pulled away. Sam sighed. "So I was never unfaithful? Why not just go back and solve all the problems our relationship had?"

"Because then it would not be your relationship. We remedied the most disastrous points in order to ensure the longevity of your love."

"So this... Journey of Tu'artes... it's over?"

"Not just yet, Samantha. There is one more place we must travel before our day is done."

Chapter 4

~2010~

Sam cradled the pillow, trying to sleep and failing miserably. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts, dreams, hopes and wishes. Giving up on sleep, she rolled over, careful not to disturb the mattress much. Settling on her opposite side, she gazed at the form laying next to her in the bed, full breasts rising and falling with each shallow breath. Sam smiled as she let her gaze travel over the sleeping form, suddenly so different than the one she was use to sharing a bed with.

Tentatively, she reached out and laid her palm flat against the warm flesh of her lover. Her smile grew as she began to stroke the soft skin, feeling the warmth as her hand traveled the large area.

"If you keep doing that," came a sleepy voice, "Neither of us is going to be very rested when this baby comes."

Sam looked up at the half-lidded eyes of Janet Fraiser, seeing the smile in the darkness. "I can't help it." She turned her gaze to the swollen bulge of the brunette's stomach. "You're pregnant. You're pregnant with *my* baby."

Janet smiled. A few years before and that comment would have seemed ludicrous. But now, after an planet-shattering battle in the Asgard home galaxy and the subsequent destruction of the Replicator homeworld and it's production facilities, Thor had granted several medical advances to the humans as a thank-you. One of the advances dealt with asexual reproduction that required no fertilization of the egg, no sperm introduction. Sam underwent the painful process to convert her reproductive organs, then began trying to have a child with Janet.

After only a few weeks of trying, they had succeeded. Janet was carrying a child in her womb, the combined efforts of herself and Samantha Carter. Thor had assured them there was no need for a gestation period, but Janet fear that without it the baby may have been born with birth defects. The safest way was for the doctor to carry it to term.

Now, Sam laid her head on Janet's stomach and listened. "I can't wait for this baby to come."

Janet gently brushed Sam's long blonde hair, which she now wore down to her shoulders. The doctor sighed and said, "Sleep, Sam. I'll still be pregnant in the morning."

Sam kissed Janet's navel, then slid back to her side of the bed. "I love you."

Janet returned the smile. "I love you, too." 

Dawn was breaking outside the window... it wouldn't be long before another day was upon them... 24 hours closer to the birth of their child.

---

The sun beat down on the time-tossed duo as Major Samantha Carter and Iole pushed through the overgrowth, stopping in the shade of a large poplar tree. Sam knelt, picking up a handful of dirt. "What is this place? Janet's cabin? Does this have something to do with our vacation after we removed Urgo?"

Iole smiled. "In a way. This is the place where you and Janet vacationed, but it is not the time you believe. There," she pointed to a space between two large bushes. "Do not let yourself be seen, but you may observe if you wish."

---

Sam stirred the pasta absently while she picked up the ringing phone, activating the screen in case there was a vid-link attached. Sure enough, the face of Cassandra Boyd (nee Fraiser) filled the screen. The girl's car phone was mounted over the steering wheel and projected onto the windshield. "Hi, Mom!" she chirped happily.

"Hey, Cass. What's up?"

"Jason and I are on our way up the mountain. Thought we'd give you fair warning." She glanced to the side, looking at what Sam was doing. "You cooking?"

"Yeah. Pasta. You're welcome to have some when you get here."

"Um... no, we ate," the woman quickly lied.

"Cass... you know Janet taught me how to cook when we left the Stargate program. It's delicious." The words 'left' and 'Stargate' still sounded weird to her. Five years ago, when the Asgard had granted their medical advances, the government had declassified the project. Sam and Janet, along with the rest of SG-1, gracefully stepped aside to allow the Gate to be used for more commonplace things. The world was finally at peace again... and the majority hadn't known it was at war.

Cassandra sighed. "One bite... but if it's anything like the rigatoni you tried to make on the Fourth of July..."

"That was twelve years ago!" Sam defended herself. "Besides... I'm a much better cook now."

"Sure, sure," she laughed. "Okay, we're pulling up to the carport. Should take about ten minutes to get up to the cabin."

"Great. I'll tell your mom you're coming. Love ya, Cass."

"You too, Mom." The link was cut-off and Sam went back to her pasta.

"Janet! Cass and Jason are on their way up!" She abandoned the pot for a moment, heading into the living room. "Janet?" The brunette was laying on the couch, sound asleep. Smiling, Sam knelt next to her wife. "Hello? Janet?" She stroked her cheek and placed a kiss on her lips.

"Huh?" Janet murmured. "Lunch ready?"

"Not yet... Cassandra and Jason are coming up."

Janet sat up, cradling her belly. "Oh... She, uh, actually said Jason is coming up?"

Sam averted her eyes slightly. "No. But I figured he came all this way. Maybe he's ready to accept that..."

"Yeah." Janet shook her head. "Help me up?"

They stood and headed for the door, stepping onto the porch as Cassandra came around the bend in the trail. Sam's eyes widened. "Wow. Quick walker."

"You didn't tell me that they installed a transport at the bottom of the hill," she said, adjusting the child she held against her side. She was wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeved sweater, her short brown hair held back in a French twist.

Sam stepped forward, taking Cassie's daughter and holding it against her chest. "Hi, Sarah. Hello, there. Hi!" She tickled the baby's chin, rewarded with a soft giggle. "Are you still breast-feeding?"

Cassie nodded. "Yeah... Jason is getting pretty sick of me doing it in public."

Janet's smile faltered slightly, then she said, "Where is my son-in-law today?"

Cass averted her eyes, looking at her daughter. "Ah... down in the car. He's listening to a Cubs game on the radio. Can you believe their streak? I think they'll repeat their World Series win. Wouldn't that be..."

"Don't change the subject, Cassandra," Janet said. Her voice was forceful, yet quiet. Her eyes said everything her words didn't.

Sam looked between the two, then looked down at Sarah. "I think somebody needs a changing... I'll take care of it." She turned, retreating into the house with her granddaughter.

"Mom... Jason is just uncomfortable with this. With how I grew up."

"What is he so uptight about? That you lived in a home with two parents that loved you? Or the fact that one of those parents didn't happen to be male?"

"Mom. He's from a very orthodox family. This whole situation makes him feel odd. I just don't think you should rub our noses in it every time we show up."

Janet turned, sitting on the rocking chair she had placed on the porch a few months back. "Cass... can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Mom." She stepped onto the porch. "You said Jason didn't like you breast-feeding in public. He doesn't like seeing your parents. I've never heard you say one thing he *did* like. So, tell me. What does this husband of yours like about you."

"He loves me, Mom." Cassandra said, defensive. "We may have our differences, but it's what we love about each other."

"Okay, then tell me this. It's nearly 96 degrees out here. Why're you wearing a sweater?"

She looked self-consiously down at her arms and said, "We drove from the upper Rockies. It was freezing there. I... haven't had time to change."

Janet stood. "Cass, honey. I love you. But I'm not so sure that Jason does."

"Mom..."

"Let me finish. I was in a horrible marriage before I met Sam. Every time he would beat me, I said it was the last time. I always tried to convince myself he was under stress or couldn't be held accountable for his actions. Don't make the same mistake I did, Cassandra."

"Jason doesn't hit me," Cassie said quietly.

Janet grasped her daughter's hand and slid the sleeve up. Bruises marked her forearms. She closed her eyes and said, "Nice... he hits you where the marks won't be visible." There were tears in the young girl's eyes. Janet sighed and embraced her daughter, a motion slightly hindered by the swell of the brunette's pregnant stomach. "I love you, Cass. Don't let him hurt you any more. Get counseling, divorce him, press charges... whatever it takes to keep him away from you and Sarah."

Cassie was crying softly against her mother's shoulder, holding her tightly.

---

Sam turned to her companion. "Is he beating her? That bastard beats Cassie?"

"Yes," Iole said softly. "It is a matter which she deals with on her own." She extended her hand. "Come. The journey of tu'artes is now at an end. I will return you to the time from which I have taken you."

"Wait... Janet's baby. Our baby. What happens with it?"

Iole smiled. "The child is born three weeks from this day. The labor is complicated, but Janet makes it through. You are blessed with a healthy daughter."

"What do we name her?"

"Janet Fraiser's maternal roots can be traced to her great-great-grandmother, who lived on the island of Hawaii before settlers arrived. You name your child in honor of her. She is called Iole."

Sam's eyes widened. "You..."

"Hello, Mother." Tears were brimming in Iole's eyes as she clutched Sam's hand. Before Sam could question any further, they disappeared in a bright flash of light.

~Now~

The bright light faded, replaced by the loving face of Dr. Janet Fraiser. The brunette smiled, then turned to someone Sam couldn't see. "She's coming around."

Turning back to Sam, she brushed aside a strand of hair. "Hi... do you remember anything?"

Sam frowned. "Yes... The planet. The woman in blue robes." She winced. "Iole..."

Janet glanced at their companion, who Sam still couldn't see. "What does my many-times great-grandmother have to do with anything?"

Sam rolled her head on the bed, turning to face the man standing next to the bed. "Daniel. Wha' happened on the planet?"

"We were kind of hoping you could tell us, Sam... We found you laying unconscious in a big, empty room. We brought you back to the base, but Janet was having trouble reviving you."

"You gave us quite a scare."

"I... think..." Sam tried to clear her brain. "The woman in blue. The robed woman we saw on the horizon. I found her in the lab. I think she knocked me out when I interrupted whatever she was doing. Oh, wow... I have the world's worst headache," she groaned.

Janet put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Rest. It will be a while before you're steady enough to walk."

Daniel smiled. "The flash the woman used to knock you out was a doozy. It was visible through the cracks of the temple walls."

Sam shook her head. "I... don't remember much. Just going into the lab and seeing a blue robe. She put something on me..."

"We found a small bruise over your breast. We think she attached something to you to administer some kind of drug. That might be what kept you unconscious so long.

Sam shook her head. "I'm sorry I'm not more helpful here..."

"It doesn't matter, Sam," Janet said. "There are apparently no side effects. Whoever this woman was, she probably just wanted privacy for her work. Too bad you stumbled across it."

"Yeah... too bad."

~2067~

The Stargate hummed silently, the blue pool shimmering with power for the first time in two decades. Iole stood at the bottom of the rusted ramp, in the gateroom of the abandoned SGC facility. Right on schedule, the event horizon rippled and a woman stepped through. She was elderly, dressed in the clothing of the late 1980s. As the Stargate disengaged behind her, she smiled at Iole. "I don't know how you did that, but I'm glad you did."

Iole stepped up to the ramp, embracing the old woman. "I had to include you. I was not their only daughter, you know."

Cassandra smiled. "I want to know how you did all of this. You look like you did when you were thirty, but... I don't remember you having this kind of power back then."

"There are many things I cannot explain, Cassie. But I am from your future as well." She pulled out a small slip of paper with a date written on it.

"What is this?"

"It is the date on which you must return here, as well as a time. A group of friends will travel through the Stargate on this date at this time, it will take them back to the past."

"Who is going back to the past?"

"Your mother. And Daniel and Jack and Teal'c." She grinned. "They got into a little problem in 1969 and... it's complicated. I will explain it to you over a cup of coffee."

Cassandra linked arms with her younger sister and the two women slipped out of the gate room, already going
over memories of the past.

~Then- 1997~

"How's the assimilation going, doc?"

Janet looked up at the handsome colonel who had met her on the ground level. What was his name? She wracked her memory and said, "Just fine, sir. It'll, uh... take some adjustment. Plus, the knowledge that I'm replacing a doctor who was murdered by a lieutenant colonel who had been taken over by an alien presence isn't exactly... comforting."

"Well, I just thought I'd introduce you to some people... judging from our current record, you'll be seeing us quite often."

A long-haired man with glasses entered, smiling warmly at her. "Dr. Daniel Jackson, SG1. Archaeologist."

Jack - that was his name! Jack O'Neill - slapped the doctor on the back. "Danny here deciphered the Stargate. So any diseases that may come through here, it's his fault."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Geez, thanks for the guilt trip, Jack."

"Not a problem." He smirked. "And this lovely specimen is Captain Dr. Samantha Carter."

Janet looked up and felt her breath catch in her throat. "Samantha... *Carter,* you say? That's... spelled with a 'C,' right?"

"Usually," Sam smirked. Her hair was a bit longer and more coiffed... 'God, she seems so much *younger* than I remember,' Janet thought. She extended her hand and Janet accepted it.

Jack said, "We should have another member soon; the Jaffa that was getting his physical earlier. Name is Teal'c. He's a barrel of laughs. You'll love him."

Jack winked, then said, "Let's go, kids. Let the good doctor do her duty."

As the team started to file back out, Janet said, "Uh, Samantha?"

"Sam."

"Right... could you stay for a second? I'd like to ask you something."

"Sure." She bid good-bye to her team, promising she'd catch up, and returned to the office. She sat on the couch and smiled warmly. "What's up, Doc?"

Janet lowered herself into her own chair. "Um... have you ever been to Oklahoma? Say, around 1989?"

"No... I've never been to Oklahoma. Why?"

Janet sighed. "You look... so familiar. I could have sworn I met someone who looked exactly like you a few years ago in Oklahoma City."

"Sorry," Sam shrugged.

Janet sighed. "Well... even though you're *not* her, would you care to join me for a coffee later? Maybe catch a movie?"

"Sure," Sam grinned, standing and moving towards the door. "Not many female co-workers around... we have to stick together."

Janet returned the smile. "Sure do. I'll, uh... enjoy working with you, Sam."

"I look forward to our date," Sam promised.

As the blonde departed, Janet pulled the crumpled, slightly torn note out of her wallet and re-read the words that were almost eight years old.

"Janet,

 I'm so sorry. But I can't stay. I wish to God I could, but it's just not possible. I hope one day you'll understand. I love you more than life itself.

Samantha C."

The name and resemblence were too PERFECT to be a coincidence. What was it the General had said? Expect the unexpected? She was certainly getting that. She had been transfered to train the new CMO to deal with the exotic diseases the teams were sure to bring through the Gate... Maybe this was a different Samantha C. Or maybe fate was giving her another chance at this blonde... either way, Janet Fraiser wasn't going anywhere...

She stood, walking to the bookcase and pulling out a thick medical journal that she never consulted anymore. Opening to a section on pheromones, she smiled. Finding it somehow appropriate, she placed the note on the page and closed the book on it. Returning the journal to the shelf, she turned and surveyed her new office. She wasn't going anywhere.

end