Sleeping Dogs

Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Rating: PG13

Pairings: Sam/Janet

Category: Drama

Disclaimer: These folks don't belong to me. I stole them from MGM's toybox without asking their mommies for permission. I promise to return them more or less unscathed.

Spoilers: "Fail Safe," "Allegiance." Both are hardly worth mentioning.

Archive: Yes, just let me know where it'll be.

Notes: This is not a sequel to "Stockholm Syndrome!" This fic is, however, dedicated to Debbie and she knows why (promised it would be the very next one!)

Summary: Janet must investigate when SG-1 passes out upon returning from a mission.

Special Thanks to Hl for the banner.


Chapter One,

0653, September 1, 2002

Janet woke to the sudden and unwelcome cold of the Colorado morning, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face deeper into the floral print of her pillowcase as her comfortable blanket was rudely stripped away. "Go'way," she muttered, eager to get back to the dream she had just left. She was only wearing a faded tank top and some boxer shorts, relying on her grandmother's comforter to keep her warm in the night. Now, that protective barrier had been rudely removed and she was quaking on top of her mattress. "Le'me'lone," she moaned.

Samantha Carter playfully slapped the doctor's bare feet and climbed onto the bed, straddling her friend's petite form. "Up and at 'em, Doc!" She reached up, brushing the hair out of Janet's face. "C'mon, rise and shine! The morning is a-wasting!"

Janet brushed her friend's hand away and pulled the pillow from underneath her head. She rolled onto her back, attempting to smother the Major with it. "I should've changed that stupid lock," she growled.

"You should've asked me for the key. If you thought for just one second I'd be back to bother you," Sam half-sang, half-laughed as she fought off her ex-lover's attack. She pulled the pillow from Janet's hands and dropped it to the floor. Her enemy unarmed, Sam fell to the side and laid down on what had once been her side of the bed. "You're getting the genuine, one-and-only wake-up call from the beautiful Samantha Carter, sweety. You could at least pretend to appreciate it."

Janet finally sat up with a heavy sigh, finger-brushing her wild hair. "Happy? I'm up." She pushed the blonde towards the edge of the bed. "Now, get. Go downstairs."

"Why?"

"So I can get dressed!"

Sam stood, raising her eyebrows. "The doctor suddenly becoming a prude?" She pointed a finger at the brunette, trailing up and down the other woman's body. "Everything you've got, I've seen. I've seen, licked, kissed, tasted, massaged, nibbled, sucked..."

"All right!" Janet said, her smile betraying her stern tone. "Still... I prefer to dress alone. Now go downstairs like a good girl and make me some pancakes."

Sam stopped at the door. "Hey, we're not dating anymore. You can't order me around."

Janet stuck her tongue out at the blonde and headed for the bathroom. Nine weeks after their break-up and the only difference was they weren't having sex. Janet smiled at her reflection, then headed for the shower in the hopes Cassie had left some hot water. It had been one of the best break-ups in Janet's dating history; an amicable separation of lovers, each agreeing that the relationship was going nowhere. There had been tears and a brief explosion of passion (they hadn't been able to stop themselves, truthfully), but Sam had moved her stuff out that night.

The water was indeed hot after a few seconds and Janet cupped her hands under the spray, gathering a small puddle and splashing her face with it. As she showered, she began to quietly hum "I Will Survive."

---

1755, September 1, 2002

"Off-world activation," Sergeant Davis reported from his post. He kept his eyes steady on the computer screen, the glare reflecting off his glasses and shining like two beacons on the monitor. He adjusted the glasses, trying to arrange them so that they didn't catch so much light. It didn't work. The screen lit up a few seconds later with the IDC assigned to the flagship team. "It's SG-1, Sir," he said over his shoulder. Years of working this job told him that General Hammond was already in the control center.

Hammond chuckled softly. "Right on time. For some reason, that's not as comforting as it should be."

Davis smiled. It was true; if SG-1 missed a report, they worried. If SG-1 came home early, it was usually with guns blazing. For them to come home on time was... almost unheard of. A few seconds after the iris slid open, Colonel O'Neill walked casually through the event horizon as if he were simply strolling through the park. His P-90 was slung around his shoulder and hung against his side. No danger, then.

Still, Hammond moved from where he'd been standing and met the team in the Embarkation Room. He watched Major Carter, Jonas Quinn and Teal'c carefully as they exited the Stargate. None of them seemed in the least bit distressed. Teal'c wore his usual stoic mask. Jonas was making a note in a journal (and smiling, of course). Major Carter simply looked bored. She forced a smile. "Welcome back, SG-1."

"Good to be back, Sir," Sam said, unclipping her vest.

"Feel free to relax before the briefing; I'll see you in twenty minutes."

O'Neill shrugged. "If I get any more relaxed, Sir, I'll be dead. I think we can debrief now and get it over with... if it's all right with you?"

Hammond shrugged. "All right, if you insist. You know the way." He followed the team through the doors, heading to the briefing room by way of the control center. As they headed up the stairs, Sam looked over her shoulder and watched with fascination as Sergeant Davis moved his head around, trying to find the best position to sit without leaving a glare on the computer. From her point of view, it looked like the man was having a seizure.

---

M52-984 was a moon called Locc, orbitting a planet called Treua. Upon the team's arrvival, O'Neill had commented that Sam had finally reached her goal of walking on the moon. Sam had countered that she'd walked on many moons. Jack's comeback had been that *he* had walked on an asteroid. Beat that.

The local population of Locc called themselves Lunes, which had led to a multitude of sotto voce jokes from O'Neill. While still on the moon, Sam had managed to keep him silent in the presence of the leaders by shooting him a series of incredibly withering looks. He had gotten the point and promised to keep all of his jokes for the briefing. He kept his word.

"For the most part, General," she said, trying to wrap up the briefing as quickly as possible, "the Lunes were very open in regards to their technology and knowledge. They offered to allow us to come back any time to examine their histories. I figured an anthropological team like SG-11 or SG-9 would probably be better suited to the task of looking through the ancient ledgers and geneaology."

Hammond nodded. "You mentioned technology...?"

"Not much to speak of, Sir," she reported. "They seem to be pretty close to our technology, maybe lacking a few minor luxuries. They employ a sort of virtual reality system that serves as their entertainment. The goggles could probably be studied and reverse-engineered, but..." She shrugged. "All in all, it wasn't very productive as a means of finding weapons."

Teal'c spoke up. "There is, however, a difference of opinion regarding the people of Treua."

Sam nodded. "Nothing to get bent out of shape about." Teal'c frowned and she corrected herself. "It's nothing major, Sir. The Treuans apparently disapprove of the virtual reality system the Lunes use as their entertainment. According to Stavos, the leader of the town we visited, they simply don't like VR. We checked and there was nothing visibly dangerous about it. I think it's just a matter of cultural differences."

"As long as their diff--" He paused, turning towards Colonel O'Neill. The younger man's eyelids were shut, his chin resting on his hand. "Are we boring you Colonel?

O'Neill's eyes opened wide and he glanced across the table at Sam before straightening his posture. "General?"

"You seem disinterested."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Ah, you know me and briefings. Been there, done that, ready to go out again."

Sam fought a smile, then said, "I'd like to accompany the team that returns to M52-984 and see if I can find out more about the rift between the locals and the Treuans."

Hammond nodded. "Agreed. I'll assign SG-9 to return to the moon tomorrow at 0630." Sam nodded and Hammond turned to the Colonel. "Jack? Have Fraiser clear you and then get some rest. Dismissed."

Jack rose, rubbing the back of his neck. Sam smiled at him and said, "I'm not too boring, am I, Sir?"

"Yes, Carter," he smiled. "You are. But it's not you. I guess that place was more dull than I thought." He checked his watch and said, "You want the lockers first?"

"I think I'll head straight to the infirmary," she said. "Have Janet clear me and then get outta here. I have an early wake-up call tomorrow." She wished him good-bye and followed Jonas and Teal'c to the elevator.

---

"--whole fiasco just proves that I wasn't meant to be thrust into parenting a teenager." Janet Fraiser checked Sam's temperature and waved the thermometer, clearing the reading.

Sam just smiled. "Who is, really? You've done great with Cassie. Don't let yourself think otherwise."

The doctor sighed. "I know. And it helps having Uncles Jack and Teal'c to lean on."

"And Auntie Sam," the blonde offered.

"And Auntie Sam," Janet grinned. She pronounced the title 'An-Tee.' "Can't forget Auntie Sam." Across the infirmary, an intern called out for the CMO. The brunette sighed and put her clipboard down on the bed next to Sam. "Give me a second. I'll be right back with your blood pressure."

Sam rolled her eyes. "My blood pressure is fine."

"I'll be more than happy to tell General Hammond that *after* it's confirmed by my reports. Now be a good patient while I'm gone and I'll get you a grape lollipop."

Janet slipped around the curtain, disappearing deeper into the infirmary. Sam sighed and swung her legs onto the bed, putting Janet's clipboard on the bedside table. She leaned back and propped the pillow up with her hand. 'I must be getting old or something. In bed by ten o'clock and I'm already exhausted by late afternoon...' She yawned, covering her mouth as she stared at the blank ceiling above her. 'I'll just take a little siesta until Janet gets back.' Closing her eyes, Sam released another yawn before slipping into unconsciousness.

---

"Congrats," Janet announced, pushing back the curtain. She held a large purple sucker in her right hand and a sheet of paper in the other. "Your blood pressure is fine." She looked up and saw that Sam was sprawled out on the bed, her right arm tucked under her head and her lips slightly parted. Her left arm was draped across her stomach, the fingers splayed across her abdomen. Janet sighed and walked to the bed, working to get the blanket out from beneath the blonde. When she finally got it loose, she pulled the sheet up and over her friend's unconscious form. "Sweet dreams, Sam," she whispered.

Janet stepped away from the bed, pulling the curtain to give her friend some privacy. She headed towards her office, massaging the back of her neck. 'Call Warner and see if he can cover for an hour or two while I catch a quick nap,' she thought, fantasizing about the couch in her office. She was only halfway to the hall when she spotted one of her nurses hurrying towards the front of the infirmary. There had been no alarms and no one had called for a medical team, which meant the emergency was a walk-in. 

"Great," Janet muttered. She picked up her pace, jogging into the other room. To her surprise, Jonas was the walk-in emergency. Or rather, the Colonel that was unconscious and draped across the Kelownan's arms was the emergency. Jonas seemed a bit strained by Jack O'Neill's weight, but managed to deposit him softly onto an empty bed. The nurse began checking O'Neill's vital signs.

Janet frowned as she took over for the nurse, wondering if O'Neill had been injured on the mission. If so, why hadn't Sam mentioned it? "What happened?" she asked, checking O'Neill's vital signs. Everything seemed normal.

"He... he fell asleep," Jonas said.

Janet closed her eyes, praying the new member of SG-1 hadn't just caused a panic for nothing. "Jonas... people tend to fall asleep. Especially people like the Colonel. He pushes himself and--"

"I can't wake him up," Jonas cut in. "He was sitting on the bench in the lockers, putting on his shoes, and he just... he passed out right there. I tried slapping him, yelling at him, pinching him... I know people sleep, but... I can't wake him up, Dr. Fraiser."

The doctor bit her lip. Colonel O'Neill had just passed out, so had Sam. Could there be a connection? She sighed, holding one of O'Neill's eyelids open and shining a penlight in. "Okay, let's check him out. Jonas, thanks for your help, but-- Jonas?" She turned. He was no longer standing behind her. She turned away from O'Neill's bed and looked down. Jonas had collapsed, quietly snoring at her feet. "What the..." She knelt, feeling his pulse. Slow, but steady. "Someone help me lift him onto an exam bed," she called. "And get security to check on Teal'c."

---

Airman Joseph Donald Dillon had gone through the first few years of his life as Joey. His teenage years he had been known as Joe Don. Once, someone had thought themselves funny and called him Joe D. But no one, and that meant *no one* called him Jody. No one, that was, except for Airman Sara Hatcher. Airman Sara Hatcher could call him anything she damn well pleased as long as she kept brushing his arm the way she was...

The two officers were at the end of the corridor, playfully flirting, when the call came over his radio. 'Security to Airman Dillon. Doc Fraiser wants you to check out Teal'c's quarters. Make sure everything's okay.'

Dillon wrinkled his nose and half-turned, lowering his voice as if to keep Sara from hearing. "Look, can it wait?"

"You want Fraiser mad at you, man?"

He had a point. "Then can someone else do it?"

The airman on the other end of the line sighed and said, "Leave whatever woman you're lying to alone and do your job."

Dillon turned and shrugged. "I gotta do what I gotta do," he said. He wanted it to look like he was a hero marching into battle to fight for truth, justice and the American way.

Sara leaned against the wall and said, "Hurry back, Jody."

He cringed at the nickname, but didn't let it show. "I'll only be a second, babe," he promised, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He turned, heading towards the Jaffa's quarters and imagining that Sara was checking out his posterior as he walked off. He didn't turn to check, but he flexed the muscles in his rear to give her a little show. Despite his bravado, however, he was anxious about 'checking on' the Jaffa. He knew it sounded silly, especially with an assignment like the SGC, but the thought of being so close to a real-life alien was... disconcerting for the young man.

He found the door and knocked twice. "Mr. Teal'c?" he called. "Dr. Fraiser wants to know if you're okay."

The door opened and the imposing black man stood before him. Dillon was an imposing black man in his own right, 6'4 and over two-hundred pounds. But even he was forced to take a step back. "Um... Mr. Teal'c?"

"What does she wish of me?"

Dillon shrugged. "No clue. But she just wants to make sure... Sir?"

Teal'c's eyes had drifted closed, but quickly shot open again. "Yes?"

"Are you all right, Sir? Maybe I should escort you to the infirmary." It meant more time away from Sara Hatcher's haunting green eyes, but he couldn't deny that Teal'c looked... odd.

"I am fine."

"I think it would be best if you allowed me to--" Before he finished his request, Teal'c lurched forward and slammed into Dillon, knocking the airman back and into the wall. They slid to the floor together, their arms and legs tangled. When they finally came to a stop on the cold cement floor, Dillon was pinned beneath Teal'c's massive form. "S-Sara! Someone! Help!"

---

1904, September 1, 2002

She began by reciting the date and time into the handheld tape recorder, then began her record. "SG-1 returned at approximately 1800 hours today. When Major Carter reported to the infirmary for a post-mission check-up, she promptly fell asleep in the exam bed. I wasn't terribly concerned by this until Jonas arrived with Colonel O'Neill. He had also fallen asleep and could not be roused. Before we could begin an exam, Jonas Quinn also fell asleep." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "God, this sounds stupid," she muttered. "Teal'c is apparently also afflicted with... whatever this is.

"I'm doing my best to determine the cause of this outbreak of... of drowsiness, but there hasn't been much luck." She switched off the recorder as General Hammond entered. He eyed SG-1, who had been moved to a quiet corner of the infirmary. Just looking at them, it seemed as if they were enjoying a quick nap after their exams. "General," Janet said, slipping the recorder into the pocket of her lab jacket.

He nodded, then asked, "Any change?"

"No, Sir. I've tried loud noises, bright lights, pinching them..." She hated how ludcrious it sounded. "They're all just... in a very deep sleep."

"Are you sure that's *all* it is?"

"Yes, Sir. They're experiencing Rapid Eye Movement, so at the very least they're dreaming. It's not a coma. And even if it was... what would make it strike all four of them within minutes of each other?"

Hammond sighed. "The answer more than likely lays on that moon."

"Agreed," Janet said. "Which is why I'd like to accompany the next team to investigate."

"Next team?" Hammond turned, looking at her. "There won't be a next team, doctor. Until we find out what caused my best team to take a nice, long nap, M52-984 is off-limits."

Janet frowned. "I have to disagree with you, Sir. SG-1 was obviously fine until they returned here. If a team traveled to the moon and remained there until we found a cure--"

"If we found a cure," he interrupted. "I have the upmost faith in your abilities, Doctor, but if you are unable to reverse this, we'll have another team either stranded off-world or drooling on their pillows."

She stepped forward. The General may have been larger than her in size, but few people were larger than her in spirit. "And if you refuse to allow me research, there's absolutely no way I can figure out how to stop this from happening. It's a Catch-22, General."

His voice was soft. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't authorize it."

She sank back, nibbling on her thumbnail. Suddenly, Hammond said, "Jonas had a notebook."

"Pardon?"

"When SG-1 came through the Gate, Jonas was writing on some kind of notebook. Making notes!"

Janet tilted her head slightly, eyes wide. "Could I see it?" Instead of answering, Hammond went directly to the phone next to the door and called for the first available airman.


Chapter 2,

1940, September 1, 2002

Janet sat behind her desk, the duties of keeping the various members of Stargate Command in one piece delegated to Dr. Warner for the time being. The leather-bound notebook Jonas had used for his notes had been delivered by an eager-to-please airman whose name Janet had already forgotten. She had closed the door to her office and sat behind her desk, scanning the unlined pages of chicken-scratch for any pertinent information. She remembered every bad joke she'd ever heard about the handwriting on prescriptions and how doctors deserved a diploma in chicken-scratch. She wondered if Jonas Quinn had ever worked in the medical field. He wrote with quick strokes of the pen, often leaving the legs off certain letters or forgetting to cross a 'T' or dot an 'I'.

Trying to make sense of what sat before her was starting to give her a headache, but she knew the answers to her problem could be contained in Jonas' ramblings. Turning another page, she was confronted with another doodle. She found examples of artwork borne in boredom scrawled in the margins, sometimes alongside one-word declarations like DOH and EXCELLENT, which he had almost positively gleaned from the Colonel. Several of the drawings were of stick figures walking across the margin, some of them waving towards the reader. Janet smiled at them, but paid them little notice. This most-recently found drawing, however, made her sit up and take particular notice.

It took up most of the upper right corner of one page and was tremendously detailed. It was Major Samantha Carter's ass. She didn't know how she knew it was Sam's rear, she just... knew. She knew because of her own exhaustive study of the subject, just like a mother can tell the voices of her children apart. Janet knew without a doubt that Jonas had sketched her ex-lover's heinie. The 'modeling' had no doubt been done while off-world, as the blonde's rump was illustrated with the leg strap high on her thigh and the flaps of her back pockets visible. Janet smiled, then realized she felt a bit jealous. 'How dare he draw my ex-girlfriend's butt?' She put the thoughts of the drawing out of her head and turned the page.

The heading here said, "M52-984. M means moon. P means planet?" That was the address of the world SG-1 had just gotten back from. She leaned forward, smoothing the binding of the journal and turning on the desk lamp for added light. Jonas had written much of what he had recorded while walking, which led to lines even more uneven than usual and jerky cursive. Combined with his natural skill (or lack thereof) when it came to writing, this made for a nearly indecipherable clot of jargon on the page.

Stavos was the leader they had met with. As Janet read Jonas' journal, she tried to put the thoughts in linear, chronological order. SG-1 had arrived through the Gate to discover a moonscape strewn with rocks and lots of sand; much like Earth's moon. The Stargate was held inside of an artificial atmosphere, allowing the team to breathe without the benefit of space suits. It had been a short walk to the first and - according to Stavos - only colony on the moon. There, they met with the leaders and had a long discussion about the government of Treua and what had led to the Lunes migrating to the moon.

Janet skipped most of the diplomacy stuff, moving on to the tour of the colony. Jonas had been paired with Sam ('And he probably walked behind her the entire time,' Janet thought, thinking back to the doodle) and they had been led to the entertainment center. Jonas compared the structure to an Earth mall with shops and merchants and many, many shoppers. It was here that they first encountered the Cinema, a virtual-reality entertainment source. The notes indicated that someone who wanted to view Cinema wore a pair of heavy goggles and saw the movie as if they were really inside of it.


Sam and Jonas had both participated, watching more than five minutes of a Cinema before removing the helmets.

Janet paused. If they had both seen a movie, maybe Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c had taken part as well... She actually had a clue! She went back to reading. A lot of talk, nothing much to speak of. Stavos showed them to a library where records and invoices and census records were stored and he invited them to return at their leisure to have a look. They had agreed and headed back to Stavos' office for the rendezvous with the rest of their team.

The next handful of pages were all blank. The last line was: "Stavos invited the team back to the palace after our tour. He drank some wine and offered us some wine. Colonel Oneil didn't think it wise to drink it. Stavos invited us to stay as long as we liked, but Oneil said we should be heading back. Stavos finally allowed us to go. After we said good-bye, we headed home."

'Colonel O'Neill didn't think it wise to drink it.' That didn't mean that had refused the drink. All that could mean was the colonel had muttered, 'this is a bad idea' as he took a swig. Clue number two. Possibly something in their drinks.

She closed the notebook and stood, heading out of her office to find General Hammond and report on what she'd found.

---

2030, September 1, 2002

Janet pressed her lips softly against Sam's, her fingertips of her left hand lightly resting on the Major's cheek and her right hand resting on the blonde's shoulder. She gave the closed lips a final sweep of her tongue before she straightened, opening her eyes and looking down at the blonde. "So much for the Snow White treatment," she muttered, stepping away from the bedside. It had been a long shot - more like a ludicrous shot, really - but she had seen crazier things work.

Earlier, she had taken off Sam's boots and belt, stripping her out of her uniform and covering her with a standard gown. She knew how uncomfortable it was to sleep fully dressed. She had also taken off Sam's socks; any other doctor wouldn't have bothered with this small gesture, but Janet knew how much Sam hated sleeping in her socks. She complained that it didn't give her toes enough 'wiggle-room.' Janet pulled the blanket up around her friend's shoulders and pulled the curtain back, heading towards the back of the infirmary to her office.

When she got to her office, her VoiceMail was beeping with a missed call. She checked, saw her own phone number displayed, and called home. After three rings, Cassandra answered. "'Lo?"

"Cassie," Janet said, sitting on the edge of her desk. She knew if she sat in the comfortable chair or her couch, she'd be unable to stand for a while. "What's up? You called?"

"My friend Alicia wants me to spend the night at her house. Can I?"

Janet glanced at the clock, making sure it was still the day she thought it was. "It's a school night, sweety."

The classic teenager sigh, then, "Al and I are practically the same size anyway. Why can't I just sleep over there and just wear her clothes to school tomorrow?"

"Because I said so. If you go over there, you guys will spend half the night gossiping and then wake up late for school. I know how it is; I was a teenage girl about a million years ago. And, if I remember correctly, you have a test you should be studying for. Right?"

"Mom..."

"Don't 'Mom' me." 'Oh, God!' she thought. 'I'm channeling my mother!' She closed her eyes and started over. "Just... a rain check. Okay, honey? Next Friday, maybe?"

She knew Cassandra was grumbling, but the girl was wise enough to do it with her mouth away from the receiver. "I'll see if I can go next weekend."

Janet softened her voice. "You know, I'm not really trying to ruin your fun. It won't be long before you're in college and I'll never see you anymore."

"Like you ever freakin' see me now..."

"Cassandra Fraiser!" It was times like this Janet wished she had given her adopted daughter a middle name. "What did you just say?"

Cassandra, as a sign of her teenaged stupidity, repeated what she had said, then added, "It's not a lie. You're probably not coming home tonight either, right?"

Why did this have to happen when Sam was in trouble? "Cass..."

"I knew it. So what's to keep me from going to Alicia's anyway? It's not like you'd even know. At least I gave you a call and and asked permission. God, you're so stupid sometimes! Just let me go!"

Janet was seething. "You will stay home tonight. You will remain home until school tomorrow and then you will come *straight* home. Do you understand me?"

There was a long pause. An extremely long pause. When the next word was spoken, it had the power to irrevocably change their relationship forever. Janet held her breath. Finally, Cassie broke. "Okay. I'm sorry. I was way out of line."

"Darn right," Janet said, her own voice soft. "You're still grounded, but just for tomorrow. Then you're on probation." She sighed away from the mouthpiece, then said, "Love you lots, kiddo."

"Love you too, Mom. Tell Sam I love her, too." A click and the phone went dead.

Janet hung up the phone and dropped into her chair. Fighting the Goa'uld was easier than anyone thought; just send a troop of teenaged girls through the Gate and Anubis and his cronies would be begging to surrender. 'Please! We'll do anything! Just call off the hormone patrol!' Janet snickered slightly at that, then leaned forward and went about the research General Hammond had asked her for.

---

2147, September 1, 2002

"From what I can tell, Sir, it's not an airborne virus. We received nothing from the MALP or the UAV we sent through an hour ago. According to Jonas' notes, they participated in something called a Cinema and drank some wine. One of those two things has to be the culprit. I suggest we send a team through to look around and examine those two leads. See what we come up with."

Hammond nodded. "Agreed." He paused, giving Janet enough time to get to the door, then said, "Doctor?" She turned. "I'll be sending SG-9 to investigate. They're currently missing a member due to... an unfortunate incident."

"The Yankee Pot Roast," Janet nodded. Three out of four teams were short a member after a tainted meal in the commissary. She had treated the ones she could, sending most home for bedrest. Apparently, SG-9's absent officer was one of those afflicted.

"Exactly," Hammond nodded. "There's no rule saying a team has to have four members, but I'll suggest to Major Murdock that you join his team for this mission. Be ready to go in ten minutes."

Janet frowned, blinking rapidly. "S-Sir?"

"I know you've been on duty since this morning, Doctor, and I apologize. But I've been thinking about your earlier request. I believe you're right; I think they could benefit from having you on the team. You can investigate on the front lines and see if you can find what you need to solve this thing. Otherwise, we'd just be collecting samples that could degrade before we have a chance to test them. I'd prefer it if you were able to examine the environment first-hand."

Janet nodded. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I'll be ready."

---

Normally when Janet undressed in the locker room, she was alone. Not many women were usually on the base to join her. Now, however, was a different story. SG-9, the team that she had been temporarily assigned to, boasted two women officers in it's rank; Captain Claire Monroe and Sergeant Dana Foley. The team leader was Major Tripp Murdock, a man whose name was custom made for a movie star. He was already waiting for the women in the Gate Room.

Janet stripped to her skivvies, stowing her crisp blue uniform in her locker and quickly pulling on the brown field uniform. As she dressed, she kept hearing two words from General Hammond's speech. 'Front lines.' She was going onto the front lines. Through the Stargate, on an SG team, to save another team. She shuddered as she remembered a conversation she'd had with Sam a few months earlier.


2323, February 19, 2002

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Janet had slipped off the bed and gone to the bathroom. When she returned, she pulled a Spider-Man shirt from the hamper and pulled it on, the hem falling a few inches above her knees. She pulled the material away from her breasts, letting it fall a little more comfortably, then climbed under the covers and cuddled next to her girlfriend. Sam preferred to sleep in the nude and pressed her naked body against Janet. Wrapping an arm and a leg around the smaller woman, Sam kissed the brunette's cheek.

Janet returned the kiss, pressing her lips to Sam's shoulder and tasting salty sweat on the blonde's skin. "You okay?" Janet whispered, resting her head on the kissed shoulder.

"Wonderful," Sam replied. "Now, at least."

Another mission. Another near-miss. Another instance of SG-1 running down the ramp screaming "SHUT THE IRIS!" as the fire from multiple staff weapons marred the glass of the control room. And Sam had taken it all in stride; been debriefed, showered, went home and made love to her girlfriend. Everything was right in the world. Janet looked into Sam's eyes, which were barely visible in the dim light of the bedroom. Her hands slid down the Major's back and cupped her lover's perfectly rounded asscheeks. Sam arched her back into Janet. Finally, the brunette said, "What does it feel like?"

"Wonderful," Sam repeated. She put her own hands on Janet's backside and squeezed.

"No," Janet chuckled softly. "Not *this*. Missions. Going out there, snooping around and facing danger. How does it feel to... this is going to sound corny."

"I don't care." Sam's voice was soft, but filled with interest.

"How does it feel to save the world?"

Sam took a moment to answer. Finally, she placed a feather-soft kiss to Janet's eyelid and whispered, "It's exhilirating. Scary. It's... fun. Adrenaline is pumping too hard for it to be really scary."

Janet rested her head on Sam's shoulder. "I'd like to be the hero for a change. Not that I mind being the love waiting at home for her hero to return... I like that just fine. But... I want to feel that adrenaline you're talking about."

"Well," Sam shrugged. "Maybe one day something will happen to SG-1 and you'll get a chance to see it first-hand."

Janet sat up quickly, reaching for the bedside lamp. When the warm glow filled the room, she turned and looked at Sam with tears in her eyes. "Not even joking. Don't ever say something like that."

Sam sat up, falling into her lover and feeling the cold press of Spider-Man's cartoon likeness against her bare breasts. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I-I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry." She pulled back and kissed the salty tears from Janet's cheeks, following the trail to the other woman's lips. Janet smiled and curled her hands around Sam's waist. They fell back to the bed, tears of sadness forgotten and replaced by moans of joy.

A few second later, Spider-Man sailed across the room and landed in a heap by the hamper.


2155, September 1, 2002

Janet looked at the active Stargate and exhaled softly. "Here we go into the wild blue yonder," she muttered, her boots making hollow thumps as she walked up the ramp. She felt like a little girl playing dress-up in the two-sizes-too-big uniform. She clutched the P-90 like it was a lifeline and stepped through the Stargate.

'My turn to play hero,' she thought as the event horizon wrapped around her and once again flung her across the cosmos at sickening speed.

---

2200, September 1, 2002

Sam twitched in her sleep. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, rolling onto her side and hugging her pillow as the nightmare faded. Wetting her lips, she pressed her face deeper into the pillow and muttered, "Mm, Janet..."

Colonel O'Neill was laying flat on his bed, arms flat at his side and blanket neatly tucked in. His face, however, was twitching wildly. He sneered, then muttered half a command before his right arm twitched violently. "Humma sanf," he sighed. His head rolled to one side, his mouth slightly ajar. He began drooling on his pillow.

Jonas Quinn looked as if someone had airlifted him above his bed and let him drop. His right arm was thrown over his head, the palm up-turned and the fingers twitching occasionally as if he were counting something. His right leg was bent and his left had fallen off the side of the bed and was swinging freely beneath the blanket. He was, as always, smiling.

Teal'c remained perfectly still.


Chapter Three,

The journal entry didn't do justice to the building that housed the Stargate. Janet found herself suddenly in a large, ornate room. The Stargate was the center of attention, as it was in almost any space it inhabited, and was framed by a series of thick velvet ropes. Huge oval windows lined the walls, looking out over a barren landscape that reminded Janet of all the Neil Armstrong photos she had seen in school. She followed her temporary team down the ramp, looking for any signs of life.

As if reading her thoughts, the doors swished open and admitted a rather unattractive woman in a bulky orange jumpsuit that made her appear wider than she actually was. She forced a smile under her beaked nose and said, "Hello, travellers. May I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?"

Major Tripp Murdock stepped forward, assuming his role as leader. "We're here to find out what you fools have been usin' to drug your guests." He worked his jaw, trying to look as threatening as possible. The fact that he was little more than a muscle-bound version of David Hyde Pierce didn't help matters.

Sergeant Dana Foley lightly pushed her commander aside and smiled at the greeter. "We'd like to speak to whoever is in charge here, if that's all right. I believe it's a man by the name of Stavos?"

The orange woman smiled and nodded her head quickly. "Yes. Right this way. If you'll follow me."

She indicated the hallway she'd appeared from, then turned on her heel and began walking away. The team fell into step behind her. Janet lagged behind, walking next to Sergeant Foley. The woman was only an inch or two taller than the doctor, a welcome sight, and her dark red hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She smiled when she realized the doctor was scrutinizing her, then said, "Yes?"

Janet tilted her head towards Murdock. "Is he... always like that?"

"Macho? Pig-headed? Blunt? Off-putting?"

"All of the above," Janet chuckled.

Foley nodded. "Most of the time. If you ask me, he's trying to compensate for something."

Janet raised an eyebrow. "Really?" She was the Chief Medical Officer... she'd seen everything everyone had. "He never looked like... I mean, h-he doesn't seem like he would... need to compensate for..."

"Oh! Oh, no!" Foley said, covering her mouth and keeping her voice down. Luckily, Murdock was farther up the hall, trying to speak to their guide, and couldn't hear the conversation. "No, not that. I just mean that usually there's another man on our team; Lieutenant Harland Disher. I think he's trying to make up for being the sole source of testosterone on this mission."

Janet raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Then this should be *loads* of fun..."

Foley chuckled.

Their conversation ended and Janet began examining her surroundings. The room holding the Stargate seemed to be segregated from a much larger facility and was accessed by a long, winding glass tunnel. It was this tunnel Janet was now walking through, looking out through the glass (or whatever transparent substance this was) at the rocky landscape that stretched out for miles on either side of them. Almost directly ahead was the main facility, a domed structure that rivaled most football stadiums Janet had seen. Windows dotted the ash-gray surface and beyond them, Janet caught glimpses of movement. It looked like every moon base in every sci-fi movie Janet had ever seen.

After about five minutes of walking, they reached a thick access port. Their escort tapped in a quick code and the door rolled aside. Major Murdock entered first, stepping aside and offering Captain Monroe a hand as she went through the portal. Dana Foley turned to Janet and cocked an eyebrow. She mouthed the word, 'Chivalry' before stepping through. She didn't take her COs offered hand.

He didn't offer to help Janet. Though she would have turned the offer down, she still felt slighted by the man's attitude. The door slid closed behind them and the guide pointed them in the right direction. Apparently she had to wait for the next group to come through the Stargate.

As they walked towards the indicated offices, Claire turned and frowned at the guide. The woman was standing next to the door, leaning against the wall as if bored out of her skull. Murdock caught her look and asked, "What is it, Cap'n?"

"Not sure, Sir. But it took us five minutes to get here from the Stargate."

Dana turned and said, "But little Miss Tour Guide was right there when we stepped off the ramp."

"Almost like she was expecting us," Murdock muttered.

Janet had the sudden feeling that they had just walked into a trap. She tightened her grip on the butt of her gun and scanned the sides of the corridors. Jonas' journal had been accurate; the place *was* like a mall. Every few yards, there was another entryway to some store or another. She spotted people selling food, clothing, artwork, furniture, more clothing, more food, more artwork... she saw everything but bookstores and videostores. 'Apparently these people don't put a lot of stock in the entertainment industry... Borders would be out of business in no time flat,' she mused.

Finally, they reached a signpost that indicated Stavos' office was to their left. Sure enough, the only thing in that direction was a huge wooden door with two guards posted outside. As they approached, the guard on their right saw their weapons and tensed. "Hold it right there," he said, stepping forward. "What do you want?"

Murdock was apparently debating whether or not to repeat his macho man spiel from earlier. "We'd like to talk to Stavos," he said, holding himself back as much as possible. "Is he in?"

"Who's asking?" the guard on their left asked, finally getting with the program and stepping forward.

Murdock glared at the two men. "I'm asking."

"SG-9, explorers from Earth," Dana said, stopping her commander from once again snapping at someone.

The guard on the right seemed to digest this, then stepped aside. "He's in the office. Through those doors, down the hall and to the left. You'll have to leave your weapons here."

"And you'll have to get serious," Murdock said, rolling his eyes. "We're not leaving our
weapons."

Dana rolled her eyes. "You can leave the weapons with me, Sir. I'll stay out here and keep an eye out for... militant shoppers." She held out her hand and Murdock reluctantly handed over his P-90 and zat gun. Captain Monroe and Janet did the same. Once they were unarmed, both of the guards stepped aside. The one on the left went to the doors, pulling them open and waving the three team members inside.

The hall smelled like cheap cologne, a sharp and bitter smell that seemed to slap Janet in the nostrils as soon as she was inside. Behind her, the door slammed with a sound like a cell door clanging shut. Janet jumped at that, then scanned the hall. The walls were an off-shade of red, as was the carpeting and the ceiling. Janet stepped towards the wall, leaning in close and seeing the real reason for the odd color; the walls had originally been pink, but someone had used a red pen to write "STAVOS" over and over again in miniscule letters. It spanned the entire wall, floor to ceiling as far as Janet could tell. She turned and revealed what she had found to Murdock and Monroe.

"Hell's bells," Murdock muttered, dropping to his knees and looking at the carpet. "Same here."

The ceiling was too high to get close enough to look, but it was obvious it had received the same treatment. Janet shrugged. "At least we know he likes himself."

Monroe smirked at that, heading towards the door at the end of the hallway. It, strangely enough, was the only thing not coated with Stavos' moniker and was instead a brilliant white. Captain Monroe knocked, then pushed the door open.

The room was empty. Of people, of furniture, of anything. The floor was bare and white. The walls were yellow. The ceiling was lower than that of the hallway and was also white. Murdock stepped forward, running a hand over the short bristle of his hair. He had it buzzed short, hoping to hide the fact that he was balding. It didn't work. "Looks like we've been duped."

Janet was about to turn and leave when the lights (which were coming from some unseen source) dropped and a low bumping music began to emanate from the walls around them. Murdock silently cursed himself for leaving his gun and searched the room for the source of the music. The music built until there was a steady hum coming from all around them. "Prestigious guests," came a sonorous voice, "welcome to the inner offices of the one... the only... STAAAAAAAAAVOS!!!!" The back wall of the room suddenly began to rise, disappearing into the ceiling. A large desk rolled forward from the other side, rolling on some unseen conveyer belt or pushed by hidden hydraulics. When the desk was directly in front of them, the music stopped.

A man was sitting behind the desk, his face long and lean with not a single blemish. His wavy blonde hair looked like it had been sculpted from a single block of plastic and glued to his head. He stood, unfolding his lanky frame and extended one long arm to Murdock. Flashing an inhuman set of pearly white teeth, he chirped, "How ya doin'? Name's Stavos and I run this here place. Nice to meetcha." It was obvious his was the voice that had been coming from the speakers.

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Subtle sort of fellow, isn't he?"

Janet smiled and pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. This was serious business they were on. She couldn't help but wonder, though, why Jonas hadn't mentioned any of this in his notebook.

"I'm not doing too well, Stavos."

The gregarious, talk-show-host-like leader sat down and crossed his legs under his desk. "Aw, hate to hear that." He turned his manufactured grin to Janet, then to Claire. "Lovely ladies at your side, bitchin' matching outfits... what's there to be upset about?" He leaned forward suddenly, propping his chin on his hand and furrowing his brow. "Matching outfits... hey, you guys are from the same place that other team was from, right?"

"Earth," Claire said. "We're here to see if you can explain what happened to our friends when they came home."

Stavos leaned back again. "What's your name?"

"My name? Um... Captain Claire Monroe. This is Doctor Janet Fraiser and Major Tripp Murdock."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, is Captain or Doctor higher than Major?"

Janet cleared her throat. "Actually, I'm also a Major."

"So you're equal with this guy and he's higher than her?" Stavos asked, pointing to Claire.

Janet frowned, wondering where this was going. "Um. I guess so."

Stavos clapped his hands together once, then rearranged himself. "Okay. I wanna talk to you instead of him," he said, pointing to Janet. "He's no fun. Stick in the mud. You. You, I like." He steepled his hands and said, "Now. What wonderful attraction would you like to experience first? We have millions of wonderful--"

"We're here so you can tell us what happened to our friends," Janet said, interrupting his spiel.

The leader sat back in his chair, blinking twice before shaking his head. "You guys from Earth. No fun at all. Okay, here's what I know. The other team, what were they called? SG-1? They came through the Gate to the Stars and were escorted here. Just like you were. They went on a tour, saw some sights, drank some wine and went home." He shrugged. "Other than that, I can't help you."

"May we have some of this... wine that they drank?"

Stavos slapped his forehead. "Where the hell are my manners?" He stood and clapped twice. The door behind the team opened and a man appeared, carrying a tray bearing three full wine glasses. He sat the tray on the desk and quickly moved back out of the room. Stavos indicated the glasses and said, "Drink! Imbibe! Guzzle! But whatever you do, don't spill on the carpet."

Janet fumbled through her jacket for a moment, then withdrew a large specimen container. She poured some of the wine into the glass and snapped the lid shut. Making sure the seal was secure, she placed it back in her jacket.

Stavos watched this, then said, "Funny way of drinking, if you ask me."

"We're taking it as a sample," Murdock explained. "We'd also like to see this Cinema thing you guys have."

"Cinema!" Stavos said. "Of course, of course, of course! *Now* you are talking my language. What're you in the mood for? Action? Comedy? Romance?" He raised one hand to the side of his mouth and, in a stage whisper, suggested, "Adult?"

"We'd just like to have a look around, if you don't mind."

Stavos sat down, lower lip protruding like a stubborn child. "Fine. But the ladies go. You... you stay here. I don't trust you."

Janet and Claire looked at each other, then at Murdock. The Major looked like he was about to implode, then sighed. "Fine. I'll go help Dana watch the guns." He gave Stavos a final, withering look, then followed the two women from the office. Once the door was closed, Stavos' smile disappeared. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, as he tried to figure out what to do about this pesky SG team. He thought the plan to deal with the last team had been so beautiful, and yet it had been mucked from the beginning. This team... he'd have to be extra-smart to keep them from asking the wrong questions...

---

2238, September 1, 2002

Armed with a map of the complex and so-so directions from the guards, Janet and the Captain made their way towards the Cinema. Claire Monroe looked a great deal like Sam had when she was a captain; same blue eyes, same long, blonde hair, but she had one thing that Sam didn't. Dimples. Oh, sure, when Sam smiled big enough or when she laughed (which Janet didn't think happened nearly enough), the small spots appeared on her cheeks... but Claire had amazing dimples. Dimples that weren't so much dimples as they were facial features. They appeared every time the Captain made a 'ssss' sound.

Trying to get her mind of the blonde beauty walking next to her, Janet cleared her throat. "That Stavos, huh?"

Claire smiled and dimples danced. Damn, Janet though. "Quite the showboat," Claire agreed. She looked around, then said, "God, can you imagine a mall like this on Earth?"

"Oh, I know one. Just outside of Dyersburg, Pennsylvania. HUGE building. They actually rent carts at every entrance. Millions of shoe stores, thousands of bookstores and a fine selection of coffeeshops in their food court. It's not a shopping trip, it's a weekend getaway."

"Wow, sounds great. You'll have to take me sometime."

Janet tried to ignore the double entrendre, instead focusing on whether or not the woman was asking her out or not. 'Does she know I'm... is she... Damned don't ask, don't tell rule...' She sighed. "There's a lot of things about this place that reminds me of Earth. They're language, for example. The way they talk. It's almost like home."

"Except if you walk outside of this mall, you get sucked into the vacuum of space..."

Claire looked up at the skylights. "Oh! Right... I kind of forgot that we were on a moon."

Janet smiled. "How many missions have you been on?"

"Me personally, four. I got assigned here after Lieutenant Walker got killed fighting Jaffa. The others have been great, though... really accepting. In fact, Dana and I have gotten together for dinner a few times."

'So *not* asking me out, but definitely sees things my way,' Janet thought. "I'm a mission virgin, myself." 'Did I just say that?' "Usually I only get to go through the Stargate when there's a medical emergency. The excitement is usually done by the time I get to go through the Stargate."

"That's not true; I heard about what happened at the Alpha Site with the Jaffa and the Tok'ra. You were right in the middle of all that. Invisible assassins running around, Tok'ra and Jaffa being killed, Colonel O'Neill opening fire on the courtyard with a giant Rambo-style gun. You've had your share of excitement."

Janet smiled and let the matter drop, looking up as they neared the intersection the guard had told them about. "Here we go."

A huge neon sign declared that they were now in CINEMA. They walked into the arcade-like area, trying to see past the blinking blue neon signs that illuminated the room and threatened to blind the clientele. People wandered through shelves and shelves filled with countless cartridges, some of them waiting in line to purchase (or rent) their selections. In the back of the room, Janet spotted several rows of chairs. A few people were reclining in them, eyes hidden behind bulky visors as they experienced the movie.

"SG-1 watched a movie while they were here, right?"

Janet nodded. "Yep. But if that was the reason they fell asleep, all of these people would also be affected. I don't think a movie is to blame." She turned to walk out, but Claire put a hand on her arm. "Wait a second, Dr. Fraiser. If this isn't what caused them to pass out... what's the harm in maybe checking one or two out? Just to see what they're like?"

Janet wanted to argue. She desperately wanted to turn around and say 'Let's get back and report to Murdock'... but Claire kept tilting her head towards the rows of cartridges, her eyes pleading. And Janet had always been a sucker for blondes with pleading blue eyes. She sighed, looking at the corridor outside of he Cinema, then said, "Okay. One short movie and then we're gone."


Chapter Four,

2248, September 1, 2002

After ten minutes of searching, Janet and Claire finally found someone willing to help them and set them up with a 'test drive'. It was free and lasted only five minutes.

Janet reclined in the large leather chair, reminded of her trips to the dentist's office. She blinked into the harsh lights as the Cinema worker adjusted the settings on her visor. He squinted into each eyepiece, checked Janet's head size with a paper ruler and said, "Okay, um... what would you prefer? Action, Adventure, Adult, Comedy, Drama, Period-Piece, Romance, Science-Fiction, Suspense...?"

"Um..." Janet sighed. "Comedy, I suppose."

The clerk slipped the headset into place, adjusting the eyepieces one last time before fitting them into place. Before the world around her was blocked out, Janet glanced over and saw Claire was getting the same treatment. Then the two round goggles were lowered and distorted the store around her. She felt a glove being slid onto her hand and wiggled her fingers, trying to get a feel of the leather. "Enjoy," the worker said, before sliding two thick headphones down.

For a moment, everything was blurry. She couldn't hear anything beyond the muffled ambiance of the video store. Suddenly, the world in front of her shifted to a light, sky-blue color. White words scrolled across the bottom of her vision: "The following is rated
13Plus. Children should be cautioned." The warning repeated and then the world tilted downward. Janet felt as if she were flying over a large field, a spectre that moved about unseen and unheard. She reached out with her gloved hand, seeing a digital representation in front of her. 'This is so cool,' she thought. 'Cassandra would *love* this!'

Her downward descent slowed and she walked on air towards a couple sitting in the middle of a field. The man poured them each a glass of champagne, tapping his companion's glass with his own. They drank, laughed and talked for a while, nibbling on the picnic lunch they'd packed. Janet looked into the sky, wondering if she was on the world that this moon orbited.

Without warning, thunder split the silence with a deafening boom. In seconds, the field was deluged with rain. The man pulled up the blanket, trying to cover his girlfriend's head with it as they ran towards their car. The man jumped into the driver's seat and reached for the ignition. When he grabbed the key... everything changed. He was still soaking wet, but he was now in a small desk in a classroom. The teacher was glaring angrily at him and all of the other students were looking at him with expectant eyes. "Well?" the teacher asked. "WHAT is the ANSWER?"

"I-I-I don't know," the man stammered. Suddenly, all of his clothes vanished. The other kids laughed uproariously and began pointing at him.

That's where the 'show' ended. The screen went blank and Janet pulled the glove and goggles off. She was breathing heavily, amazed how far lost she had been in the movie. She had completely forgotten where she was... She climbed off the chair and moved to where Claire was sitting. The blonde was still lost in her movie. Janet searched the controls and found a small "STOP" button on the back of the headset. She pressed it, then pulled the headset off the captain. "Are you okay?"

Claire blinked several times, trying to focus her eyes. "Yeah," she muttered, sitting up. "That was... weird."

"Almost like a bad dream?"

"Yeah," Claire admitted. "Just like a dream. Only mine wasn't bad."

Janet glanced at the headset and saw the cartridge Claire had chosen was 'Adult.' She arched her eyebrows. "Okay. Go find Murdock and tell him about this place."

"Where will you be?"

"I'm going to be sticking my nose into things I'm not supposed to be sticking my nose into."

---

2308, September 1, 2002

After dispatching Claire, Janet moved across the corridor to keep an eye on the Cinema without looking too obvious. She wandered through a shoe store, eyeing a pair of blue leather moccasins that would be the perfect gift for Sam. Pity she didn't have any money, though. She put the shoes back on the shelf and looked across the way at Cinema. There! She spotted the man who had helped her earlier go through a side door that was hidden between a pair of shelves. She looked once more at the moccasins, wondering how much a pair like that would cost on Earth, then headed back into the Cinema.

The door was easy enough to get to. The problem was getting inside without anyone seeing her. She chewed her lip and walked across the store, stopping next to the Adult selections. An attractive redhead approached, trying to look nonchalant, and picked up one of the restricted cartridges. Janet tapped the redhead on the shoulder and the woman turned, looking like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. "Excuse me. But isn't that your friend over there?" She pointed vaguely towards the front of the store. Away from the access door.

"Yes," the redhead admitted. "That's her."

Janet nodded and said, "What do you know... she was right." She turned and pretended that the conversation was over.

The redhead chuckled self-consciously. "Right? R-Right about what?"

Janet shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing. I was talking to her earlier and she said she knew exactly what kind of movies you were into. Said it wasn't hard to tell what a pervert wants to watch..."

"She *said* that? That hypocritical... she told you that?"

"Yeah. I was asking for a recommendation. Asked what types of movies her friends liked. Boy, she really let into you. I can't believe you call her a friend." She chuckled. "With friends like her, who needs enemies?"

The redhead put the Adult selection back and moved across the store, grabbing her friend by the coat. Janet eased her way towards to door. The redhead shoved her friend, who responded with a shove of her own. The redhead toppled back, knocking her shoulder into a shelf and causing the entire row of cartridges to tremble. The Cinema workers were making their way towards the scuffle. The friend now had a handful of red hair and was yanking violently. The redhead was trying to pull a scarf from her friend's neck (no doubt a borrowed scarf).

Janet turned the knob of the secret door just as a row of shelves fell to the ground, sending cartridges sailing across the sales floor. Now that all the attention was focused in the opposite direction, Janet slipped through the door unnoticed. For a moment, she felt guilty for breaking up the friendship... but if it could be broken up by a few words from a complete stranger, it couldn't have been the best relationship to begin with.

'No time to worry about that now,' Janet thought. She was in a badly-lit hallway that seemed to go on in either direction for miles. Doors appeared every few steps along the way, hidden in shadows and alcoves. She slowly walked forward, wondering if this had been such a great idea after all. With these thousands of doors, there were limitless choices. No doubt the majority would lead to a public area and she would then be busted without anything to show for her trouble. She was about to turn around and head back to the Cinema when a door a few yards ahead of her opened. She ducked into an alcove, trying to be as still as possible in the darkness.

The clerk that had set up her visor earlier exited one of the rooms on the other side of the hall. His hands were full of cartridges. He whistled quietly as he walked back to the Cinema, shuffling through the stack of cartridges as if they were CDs. She waited until she heard the Cinema door close again, then stepped into the corridor. She went to the door that the clerk had stepped out of and quietly pulled it open. Hopefully there was no one inside waiting...

Inside, there were three rows of four beds. On each bed was a person, sleeping peacefully. Each person wore a headset much like the one Janet herself had been fitted with. She walked to the closest bed, a woman with short black hair. Wires ran from her headset and disappeared into what looked like the tower from the computer in her den. The front of the machine had a fat, thick opening like that on the front of a VCR. Janet pressed a button and a cartridge was deposited into her waiting hands. The label telling whether it was action, drama or comedy was blank, probably to be filled in later by someone who worked at the Cinema.

"They're stealing dreams," Janet whispered, looking over the sleeping victims.

---

0144, September 2, 2002

Janet returned to her office after a quick shower. She had returned the brown uniform to it's hanger and returned to her normal attire. She was amazed that high heels could be comfortable, but anything felt good after traipsing around in combat boots. General Hammond had been glad to see she was all right, but refused to relax until he was positive that the members of SG-9 (Janet included) weren't infected with the same 'sleep sickness' that SG-1 had fallen victim to. That meant sitting in quarantine for thirty minutes until the window had passed. SG-1, after all, had fallen asleep thirty minutes after their return from M52-984.

Now it was closer to an hour since their return and Janet wasn't feeling any sleepier than usual. Of course, she had been awake for almost twenty hours... but that was common. Nothing to get bent out of shape about...

She sat at her desk, pulling the specimen container from the pocket of her lab jacket. The red wine swished inside of the glass, the crimson waves marking their passage on the walls of the container. She put the glass holder on her desk blotter and opened the top. Using an eyedropper, she gathered a little of the liquid and put the rest aside in case she needed it for further study. Glancing at the clock, she sighed heavily. It was going to be a long night.

---

0650, September 2, 2002

Janet left her office and found an airman, asking him as politely as possible if he could find her a cup of coffee. He said it was no problem and hurried off. The lights of the infirmary were down for the evening, casting long shadows in the darkened areas and making the lit areas look much, much brighter than they actually were. The beds holding SG-1 were bathed in the brightest light; Janet theorized that since light impeded the production of melatonin, it might help wake the team up. No luck, however.

The doctor sat next to Sam's bed, taking the sleeping woman's hand in her own. Sam murmured in her sleep, adjusting on the mattress. "Hey, baby," Janet said, softly. It was exactly one day after Sam had barged into Janet's bedroom and tickled her out of slumber. Okay, technically it was twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes, but who really cared? Close enough... "Wish I could tickle you until you woke up. Wish it was that simple." She sighed and brushed an errant strand of blonde hair out of Sam's face.

The airman returned with a cup of coffee that was - glory hallelujah - steaming hot. She thanked the man, making note of his name, then turned back to Sam.

"Sleeping," she said to the prone woman, her voice low. "You're just asleep. No big deal, right? Nothing for me to get bent out of shape about. But I can't figure this one out."

"I hate to hear something like that." Janet turned, surprised at the voice. General Hammond had entered the infirmary, his uniform crisp and looking well-rested. He approached the bed and smiled at the brunette. "Have you been here all night?"

"Yes, Sir," Janet admitted. "I couldn't leave her. Them... I-I couldn't leave SG-1 like this."

He seemed not to notice her slip. "You need your sleep, Doctor."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Ironic, isn't it? Missing sleep because your friends are sleeping too much."

"I want you rested. Dr. Warner can handle this."

"With all due respect to you and to him, Sir, I don't think so. I don't think I could just hand this problem off like that. It started on my watch and I'll see it through to the end."

Hammond seemed to want to protest, but eventually just smiled and nodded. "As you wish, Doctor. Any progress on the wine sample you brought back?"

"Not a thing, Sir. They use some kind of genetically-engineered grape to produce the wine, which leads to an entirely manufactured product. Which means I can't separate what's making them sleep from what's making the alcohol. For all I know, I could be working on a cure and end up with something that will only cure a hangover."

"A lot of people on this base would worship you for such a drug."

Janet chuckled. "Agreed, Sir. Maybe another time. I'm *sure* that there's an antidote on that moon. I mean, they wouldn't just create something like this without making an antidote. But why would they give it..." She looked at Sam, then chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "Sir. Could you contact M52-984 and tell them that we'd like to apologize for accusing them of this? That you want to apologize to Stavos in person?"

Hammond frowned. "I suppose I could, but... what would be the point?"

"Leave that up to me, Sir."

---

1335, September 2, 2002

Stavos came through the Stargate on wheels.

His hands were buried in his pockets and he was grinning like a madman, his eyes hidden by a pair of large goggles. Four wheels protruded from the sole of each shoe he wore, rolling him forward like a roller skater. He bowed, tilting his right foot and executing an impressive spin as he bounced off the bottom of the ramp. Instead of falling flat on his face, he kicked and landed perfectly with only one foot touching the ground. Hammond watched all of this from the control room, then turned to Janet. "He certainly likes to make an entrance."

"That he does, Sir."

Stavos pulled off his roller shoes and followed the SF into the control room. "You must be General Hammond," he said, extending one hand to a nervous-looking Sergeant Davis. "Pleased to meet you, Sir."

Hammond cleared his throat. "I'm General Hammond. I'm glad you accepted our invitation, Mr. Stavos."

"Just Stavos, please. And it is my pleasure to accept your apology. I admire a man who is big enough to admit his mistakes." His eyes turned to Hammond's stomach and he laughed. "Although you look to be big enough to do just about anything, Chief." He patted Hammond on the gut, moving past them and going towards the stairs. "Let's get this I'm-Sorry Party done with."

Janet looked at Hammond and shrugged. "You've lost weight, Sir. I think you look terrific."

Hammond worked his jaw and headed to the stairs, Janet trailing behind.

Stavos was already sitting at the head of the table, taking Hammond's usual spot. He was drumming his fingers on the table and smiling at them both. "So. Who wants to apologize first?"

"I will," Hammond said, taking the seat to Stavos' right. "I would like to offer our sincerest apologies to you and your people for claiming that you willfully caused our people harm. We shouldn't have accused you with the little evidence we had. We'd like to extend a hand of friendship to you and hope our people can still be friends."

Stavos smiled and turned to Janet. "Now, the lovely Major Fraiser."

She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry that I accused you of hurting my friends. I-I shouldn't have made the assumptions I made or jumped to the conclusions I jumped to. We are completely in the wrong."

He laughed and clapped his hands together. "I accept! Now... on to business."

"Wait, wait," Hammond said, standing and walking to his office door. Stavos watched him, suddenly suspicious. "Sergeant?" The General said, motioning someone out of the office. Sergeant Siler exited with a tray that carried three glasses. Each held about two fingers of liquid. There was a red drink, a blue drink and a white drink. "Red, white and blue," Hammond smiled. "American colors. I suggest you get used to seeing them."

Hammond took the white drink. Janet took the blue. Stavos picked up the red drink and looked at it suspiciously. "Salud," Janet said, raising her glass. Hammond tapped her glass with his and they both took a drink. After she swallowed, Janet noticed that Stavos hadn't had a drink yet. "What? You trust us, don't you?"

Stavos sniffed the drink, recognizing that it was an unfamiliar scent. They wouldn't possibly try to drug him with the wine sample the doctor had brought back... The smell was different. And there was more in the glass than the doctor had taken. Surely she had experimented on the sample. This was a different drink. Nothing to worry about. He smiled. "Of course I trust you. What's not to trust..." He looked at them both, then knocked back the drink. He pressed his lips to his teeth and hissed, shaking his head. "Whoo... this... that is some powerful stuff." He blinked back tears and said, "What, ah... what do you call this?"

"It's a very rare blend," Hammond said. "It's a drink called whiskey, which is common enough, but this was spiked with a certain exotic spirit. I don't think I ever heard the name... Doctor Fraiser?"

"He never told us what it was called, Sir," sipping her blueberry Kool-Aid. "Tell us, Stavos. What is the name of the wine that knocks people out? What do you use to steal their dreams?"

Stavos' eyes widened and he looked into the glass and took another drink. Sure enough, he tasted the bitter tang of the ganthum. He looked at the two people in front of him, realizing he'd been duped. And duped well. He sneered angrily at them and stalked towards the stairwell. "You people... you people are done. I'll just head back to my world. You won't get a thi--"

The staircase was completely blocked by armed SFs. Stavos turned. He was completely blocked in. "You drugged me."

"With your own drug," Janet said, crossing her arms. "A drug you used on *our* people first."

Hammond sipped his milk, brushing his upper lip with his thumb and forefinger to ensure he didn't have a milk mustache. "You aren't going anywhere, Stavos, until you tell us where we can find the cure for our people."

Stavos was seething. He paced back and forth like a caged animal, then seemed to instantaneously deflate. He dropped into his chair and shook his head. "Fine. You guys win."

---

1430, September 2, 2002

By the time SG-9 returned from M52-984, Stavos had passed out in the briefing room. He was resting his feet on the edge of the table and his head was lolling back on his shoulders. Captain Monroe had brought more than enough of the antidote to test it on the leader. Janet prepared a syringe as Stavos had instructed and injected him in the upper arm. She sat back and watched, ready to see if this was just an elaborate trick... or the real deal.

After about eight minutes, she was ready to call it a dud. Then, slowly but surely, his eyelids started to flutter. Janet stood and walked over to his chair, knocking his feet off the table and slapping his cheek. "Hey. Hey, Stavos. Wakey-wakey time."

He blinked at her, then frowned. "What? You got the stuff?" He scoffed. "Of course you got the stuff." He stood, picking up his roller shoes and tucking them under one arm. "Can I go?"

"Just as soon as we make sure it works on SG-1."

Stavos growled and dropped back into his seat. He rested his head on his hand and muttered, "I have *so* much I have to do back on Locc, you know."

"Yes. We all feel terrible for ruining your precious schedule," Janet snapped, smiling as sweetly as possible before leaving the briefing room.

---

1538, September 2, 2002

"I don't drool."

"Your pillow is wet."

"Be that as it may--"

"'Be that as it may' nothing. Your pillow is wet. Now, unless you have a really, *really* unusual bedwetting problem--"

"I do *not* wet the bed!"

"One or the other, Colonel."

Jack O'Neill leaned back against the bed, the pillow in question already on it's way to the laundry. Jonas was already back in the locker room, finishing the shower he'd never had a chance to start before this whole mess started. Teal'c was in his quarters sitting kel'no'reem (which Janet found immensely odd considering he'd just spent close to twenty-four hours sleeping). Sam was still in bed, struggling to wake up. Janet knew that the Major was a pain in the butt when it came to wake-up calls. The blonde was the epitome of "Five More Minutes."

O'Neill finally let the subject drop and Janet made her way around the curtain to Sam. The blonde was awake, but was laying on her side and playing with the corner of her blanket. "Get. Up," Janet ordered. "Come on, Sam. You've been in bed all day. Literally! Now get up." She pulled the blanket back and took Sam's hand, pulling the blonde into a sitting position. "Feel rested?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact. For the first time in a loooong time, I feel rested." She smiled. "Looks like I was finally forced to take your advice."

Sam slipped off the bed and walked with Janet towards the brunette's office. "Cassandra came by after school. Wanted to know why I didn't come home last night and found out what's been going on with you. Siler took her to the commissary. She was really worried; forgot all about being grounded."

"Cass is grounded?"

Janet rolled her eyes. "Do not ask."

Sam held up her hands and nodded. They stepped into Janet's office and, once the door was closed, Janet turned to the blonde. "And there's something else."

"Ooh. Behind-closed-doors something else. Haven't had one of these since the break-up."

"That's what I want to talk about. Us. I spent an entire day with you unconscious in the other room and no way to help you. I felt... like my hands were tied. Like I was going to lose you without a doubt. I... have never... felt loss like that." She blinked back tears. "It... made me... realize how much you mean to me. How much I-I need you in my life." She smiled and said, "I thought we could take Cass out for pizza, tell her she can spend the night at Alicia's house like she wanted and... and then... spend the night talking. About... us."

Sam rubbed her face, then sat on the edge of Janet's desk. "Wow. Uh... wow..."

Reality hit Janet in the gut and she quickly added, "Unless, of course, you have another person in your life, in which case I would totally understand and we could just go on being--"

"Janet!"

"Huh?"

"You're babbling."

"I am not."

"Are too."

Sam stood and ran her hands through Janet's hair. "I'll go get Cass. We'll go for pizza. We'll talk. About us." She kissed Janet's cheek softly, forcing herself into an odd S-shape to execute the gesture. She straightened and said, "Wanna come with me?"

"I have one more thing to finish up here," Janet said, indicating the stack of papers on her desk. "Meet me back here and we'll head out."

Sam nodded and went to retrieve Cassandra.

---

1550, September 2, 2002

"It simply has to be the absolute worst thing to ever put on a pizza. The first person who ever put sardines on a pizza needs to be shot. Or introduced to *real* food. Either/or."

Sam shook her head emphatically. "No, no, no. They're called anchovies and, either way, you are mistaken, Girl Child. Pineapple is the one fruit on God's green Earth that does not belong anywhere near a pizza. Your toppings are meat: sausage, Canadian bacon, pepperoni..."

"Dog?"

"Cass, you have got *the* grossest--"

"It's a delicacy in India," Cassie argued. "I know! I saw it on one of those Discovery Channel thingies Mom watches."

"Are you sure it wasn't Animal Planet?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes and spotted O'Neill in the corner bed. She rushed over to say hello to her favorite 'uncle.' Sam glanced around, then asked her CO, "Hey, have you seen Janet?"

"I think she's still in her office," O'Neill said.

Sam shrugged it off, assuming the 'one more thing' had been bigger and taken longer than Janet suspected. She pushed her way through the doors that led to Janet's office, glancing in the window as she passed. The doctor wasn't visible through the window, her chair vacant. Sam frowned and knocked once on the closed door. When she received no answer, she pushed the door open and peeked inside. With a smile, she went the rest of the way in and shut the door behind herself.

Janet was laying on the couch, her legs at an awkward angle that indicated she had fallen asleep while sitting down. Her head was resting on the arm and she was absolutely lost to the world. Sam walked past the couch, opening the foot locker that Janet kept in the corner of the office and withdrew a soft cotton blanket. Walking back to the couch, she straightened Janet's legs and straightened her once (and possibly future) lover out before covering her with the blanket. She lightly kissed the brunette's lips, brushing her hair tenderly before standing up again.

Halfway to the door, she was stopped by a sleepy, "Sam?"

The Major turned and knelt by Janet's head. "Hey, baby," she whispered. "Get some sleep. You deserve it."

"But... pizza," she argued feebly.

"Rest. Now." She kissed Janet's cheek, then leaned back and said, "Hey... you did it, babe. You saved the day."

Janet smiled, her eyes already closed. "You'll come back later?"

"I'll drop Cass off at Alicia's and come get you for our talk."

"M'kay," Janet yawned. "Night, Sam."

"Night, Janet. Sweet dreams, baby." She brushed Janet's hair once more and then left the office, switching the light off before shutting the door.

End


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