Firsts

Author: Geonn

Rating: R

Pairings: Sam/Janet, established relationship

Category: Romance

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. Also not belonging to me are any song titles, song lyrics, movie titles or snippets from any movie I may use herein. I apologize to all who do own these works and assure them I made no money off of this venture.

Sequel to: "Thirty Days,"

Spoilers: Singularity, The First Commandment, Tin Man

Summary: Sam and Janet explore their newfound relationship while trying to raise Cassandra.

Chapter One

There was something magical about it; reaching this point in our relationship.

It was our two week anniversary, fourteen short days since I had asked Sam into my bed. Fourteen days since Sam first slept beside me, a post-coital grin on her face as she drifted into unconsciousness. We had moved past the constant sex part of our burgeoning relationship and could actually express affection without tearing at each other like hormonal teenagers.

The night it happened, I was sitting in bed reading my novel when she came in from work. I was wearing my silk pajama top, the too-long pants tucked away in the closet somewhere. She smiled at me as she walked to the closet, already unbuttoning her jeans as she asked, "How was your day?"

"Fine," I replied, holding my place in the book with my index finger. I looked up as she slipped out of her t-shirt, down to her bra and panties. I shivered, still captivated by the sight of her body, even though she was still partially clothed. "You'll be glad to know that Cassandra is presently enrolled in Ms. Newberry's seventh grade class."

Sam half-turned, kicking her panties towards the hamper. "Seventh?" She did the mental calculations, then went back to stripping. She unhooked her bra and said, "We were supposed to go to a new world tomorrow, scope out the people and whatnot, but a couple locals spotted the MALP and tried to establish diplomatic relations with it. So, Hammond decided to send in SG-9 for the talking."

I grinned. "So, SG-9 is talking, SG-8 is medical... what is SG-1's specialty?"

Sam turned and winked. "Kicking ass and taking names, sweet thing."

And then, the magic event happened. She reached into her dresser drawer and removed a pair of striped boxer shorts. Nonchalantly, she slid the cotton up her legs, then turned and removed a t-shirt. This particular shirt bore the face of Mr. Rogers. Straightening her hair, she walked to the bed and climbed in on her side, scooting along the mattress until we were touching. Stifling a yawn, she looked at my book and asked what I was reading. I told her the basic plot, but couldn't get past the thought that we were no longer an 'all-sex, all-the-time' couple. We were a couple that was comfortable getting into pajamas, laying in bed and talking about our days. I felt something warm in my chest and marked my place in the book with a receipt. I turned to her, cupping her face and tenderly kissing her lips.

"Wow," she whispered when we parted. "What was that for?"

I shook my head slowly. "It's too silly to explain. Just... suffice to say it's a good thing."

She leaned forward and kissed me, flattening her palm on my stomach. As we kissed, I felt her nibbling on my lower lip and I turned my head, freeing myself from her bite and reciprocating on her mouth. We nibbled and licked and tasted for a minute or so, then allowed ourselves to recline on the mattress. Sam hooked one leg over mine, the warm sock on her foot rubbing against my thigh as she kissed my neck. I placed my hand under her arm, holding her in place as she lavished my throat with attention. Without speaking, we mutually decided on a stopping point and separated. I kissed her lips once more and reached over to turn out the bedside lamp.

I felt Sam recline against the soft sheets (pale blue, of course) and decided to stay awake, allowing my eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. When I could make out the vague shape of my rolltop desk and closet door, I looked down at the beautiful blonde curled up beside me. I never went long in any relationship before I watched my lover sleep; the way they displayed their bodies, how their lips would move, the motion beneath their eyelids... I had one lover who muttered Italian in her sleep, which was odd since she had never been outside America and had never bothered to learn a second language.

For someone who spent the majority of her time fighting, Samantha Carter slept the sleep of the just. Eventually, my eyes adjusted to the light filtering in from outside enough that I could make out the captain's features. Her thin lips were slightly parted, her tongue occasionally sweeping across them to keep them from drying out. The tip of her tongue would barely appear, sweep from one end to the other, and then vanish once more into her mouth. The retreat caused her now-wet lips to close once again, but after a moment they slipped open with a barely-audible pop.

My heart swelled as I watched this ritual; only a person who had slept with Sam knew of this little mannerism. And now, I knew it. Her hair hung loosely across her forehead, spreading above her perfect features like a platinum waterfall. I followed the 'stream' from the part over her left temple down her face, following tributaries that led to one finely sculpted cheekbone until finally I found the final destination: an ocean of hair that covered most of the pillow next to me.

She sniffed, but her position caused the sound to be more of a snort. I stifled a giggle.

A wrinkle formed between my lover's eyebrows, then her lips quivered. She was in the middle of a dream already. Her right hand was laying palm up between our bodies and I saw the index and pinkie fingers twitch as if trying to hold onto something. Sam closed her mouth and swallowed, the shoulder pressing into the mattress sliding towards the pillow. Suddenly, the wrinkle faded, the hand stopped twitching, and her shoulder returned to it's original position. Her tongue flitted against her lips and she sleepily moaned, "Jan't..."

I gasped, eyes widening. I had listened to my lovers whisper endearments, sure. Heard them discuss inane things like shopping lists, heard them chuckle at an unheard joke. I had eavesdropped on them while they whispered sweet nothings to phantom mistresses who had no names. But I had never, ever heard a lover call to me in their sleep. When I touched my face, I wasn't too surprised to find wetness on my cheeks.

I lowered my head, pressing my lips to her face. She lifted her head towards the caress of my mouth and I held our contact for a second before sliding my rear end down the sheets. When I was laying down once more, I turned onto my side and pressed my head to Sam's bosom. Still fast asleep, one of Sam's arms instinctually wrapped around my waist and drew me closer. My head found her shoulder in the darkness and I closed my eyes, wondering what I said while unconscious. Maybe one day, I'd ask Sam to tell me.

---

The next morning, I woke at six-thirty and extracted myself from Sam's limbs. I lightly touched her face and pulled my robe from the closet. As I pulled it on, I looked at the bed and saw that the slumbering captain was no longer slumbering. Her eyes were half-open, locked on me. I grinned and said, "Morning, Sam."

"Hi," she whispered, arranging the blankets around herself. "You gotta work?"

I shook my head, wondering if I should mention what she said last night. "School starts at eight. I wanted to make Cassie breakfast and drive her to her first day at school." Sam yawned and I struggled to keep myself from doing the same. I failed. "Stop that," I admonished her, walking back to the bed and sitting on the edge. "How 'bout you? You have to work?"

She shook her head, her blonde hair hanging loose around her face as she sat up. I looked at her over my shoulder as she knelt behind me, rubbing my shoulders softly. I leaned into her hands and quietly moaned, "Ooh, maybe Cass should learn to take the bus..." Sam squeezed my shoulders, gently kneading my tired flesh. Her hands brought my muscles to life, causing blood to flow freely through my veins. Within minutes, I was wide awake. As she massaged my lower back, she found the pulse in my throat and attached herself to it, tenderly tasting the throb of my heart. I smiled and reached up, wrapping my arm around her head and burying my hand in her hair. "You like my neck, don't you?"

The blonde replied without releasing me. "You have - kiss - a very delectable - kiss - neck." I craned my neck to the side and allowed her to explore freely. Her tongue traced from my earlobe, down along my jawline and then back to the point where my shoulders met my neck. It wasn't until she stopped that I noticed her hands were busy pulling my robe open.

I laughed and playfully swatted her hands away. "Stop that, now... Cassandra can't be late for her first day."

Sam sighed and turned my head, kissing me softly before she finally allowed me to stand. She pulled herself out of bed and said, "I'm gonna take a quick shower... unless you wanted... Actually, Cassie should get the first shower."

I giggled, tying my robe before opening the bedroom door. "Do you always think this clearly first thing in the morning?"

"Yes," she nodded. A few seconds later, she changed her mind to, "No. Well, not really. Sometimes."

I shook my head and went into the hallway, running a hand through my hair as I weaved a crooked line to my - our - daughter's room. I knocked lightly, opening the door and peeking in. Cassie was curled under her blankets in the fetal position, her thumb precariously close to her mouth. I padded into the room, moving silently on the carpet, and sat on the edge of the bed. I brushed the hair out of her face with the back of my hand and whispered, "Cassandra? Are you awake, sweetheart?"

Cassandra said something that sounded like "Mrrphher-uhmpher."

I smiled. "Cassandra. You have to wake up, honey. You have to go to school."

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and focused on me. She yawned, opening her mouth wider than I thought possible, then rolled onto her back. "I had a dream," she explained to me. "About Hanka... and my friends."

Sorrow washed over me. "Oh? Are you okay, honey?"

She nodded slowly, then said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just miss them."

"You're homesick," I explained. "It's perfectly normal to miss things that you've left behind. It happens all the time on Earth." I brushed her hair lightly as I talked, unconsciously using my fingers to straighten knots she had accumulated overnight.

"Do you ever get homesick?"

I sighed, "Oh, all the time. I used to live on this wonderful farm in a place called Oklahoma." My lips turned upward in a sly smile. "Remember, Oklahoma is one of the forty-eight states."

Cassie yawned. "No, Oklahoma is one of the fifty states." She sat up and adjusted her pajamas. "I'm too smart for you, Mom." She smiled triumphantly.

I returned the smile and hugged her. "Okay, go jump in the shower. I'll have breakfast ready when you come downstairs." She climbed out of bed and lurched to the door. I followed her and, as she went into the bathroom, called out a reminder, "And wash behind your ears. Use lots of soap." She muttered a reply and closed the door. She had called me mom and I hadn't swelled with pride. Was that a good sign or bad?

Sam came out of the bedroom as I told Cassandra to wash behind her ears, smiling and tucking her t-shirt into the waistband of her jeans. "Janet Fraiser, super-Mom." She brushed my arm and said, "Go get dressed. I'll start breakfast for you."

I eyed her warily. "*You* will start breakfast?"

The captain rolled her eyes. "I'm not a *total* klutz. Besides, I only said I'd *start* it. You'll finish it."

I nodded and said, "Yeah, okay, just don't mess up my gorgeous kitchen." I pecked her lips before going into my bedroom, already shedding the robe.

---

After a quick shower, I dressed in a pair of jeans, a loose sweater and sneakers. I loved the feeling of being dressed in comfortable clothes; the uniforms got tiresome after a while. After combing the wet mess I called my hair, I fastened it with a clip and decided I looked good enough to drive a teenager to school. Make-up could wait. I headed downstairs, amazed that I could already smell the warm, cinnamon scent of muffins mixing with a delightful sausage aroma.

I trotted down the stairs, the fact that I had neglected putting on a bra becoming blantantly apparent as my breasts swayed beneath the material. The sounds coming from upstairs told me Cassandra was still messing with the school supplies Sam and I had shopped for the other day. I had never realized how hard it was to find school supplies in the middle of November... Thank God for Staples. I slipped into the kitchen in time to see Sam placing the finishing touches on a third plate of breakfast. An apple cinnamon roll stood to the side of a massive quantity of scrambled eggs, two strips of bacon and a small pile of hashed browns. Two sausage links completed the picture on each plate. My stomach grumbled and I looked at my lover. "Wonderful spread," I complimented, adding a wink. "Did you tip the delivery boy?"

Sam looked shocked. "Delivery boy? Janet, I have spent two weeks learning to cook, taking secret lessons, picking up whatever little hint I can get from the cook in the mess hall and you have the audacity to insinuate that I *ordered* this from some anonymous restaurant?"

Casually, my eyebrow raised suspiciously, I walked to the trash can and plucked out the styrofoam container bearing the mascot of Moe's Diner on the front. The captain blushed from her nervous smile to the roots of her hair. "Oh," she chuckled. "I probably should have used the outside bin for those."

I laughed and walked over to her, sliding my arms around her waist. I flattened my palms against her rear end and pulled her to me, lightly kissing the tip of her chin. "I appreciate the effort. Breakfast is breakfast."

Sam returned my kiss, letting her lips linger on my eyebrow as her hands traced paths over my shoulder blades. I wanted to stay like this forever, but a door closing upstairs caused us to separate. Cassie was still unaware of our new... sleeping arrangements. It was something Sam and I both knew we'd have to deal with eventually, but neither of us was too eager to explain to the girl that she would soon have yet another secret to keep.

I was at the fridge when Cassie entered the kitchen, taking her seat as Sam placed the plate in front of her. I delivered a glass of orange juice for Cassie and a tall glass of milk for myself. Sam had a cup of coffee. Cassie ate her eggs hungrily, spent a little time savoring her hash browns, nibbled on her bacon and then began to slowly pick at her bacon strips. I swallowed a mouthful of eggs and asked, "Is everything all right, sweety?"

She nodded, but I didn't exactly believe her. I reached across the table and laid my hand on top of hers. "Honey? Are you nervous about going to school?"

"A little," she admitted. "I'm not really sure I'll like it."

Sam chuckled. "Well, no kid *likes* school..."

I glared at her and said, "Cass, school is just like when Sam and I go to work... You have assignments, you have schedules to keep, but most of all, you get a whole lot of friends to hang out with. You know, kids your own age that have the same interests as you. Maybe you'll even find someone who likes Harry Potter as much as you do, or maybe someone could introduce you to a band you really like."

Her eyes brightened and she said, "Jack bought me a CD by a band called Barenaked Ladies. They're so cool!"

My face blanched and I turned to Sam. She gave me a small nod that either conveyed that the band was okay or that she would talk to Jack. Either way, the music situation was covered. "Um... that's good, sweety." I checked my watch and said, "Gee, we should probably get going, huh? Almost time for your education to continue."

As we stood, Cassie picked her bookbag up off the ground and slung it over her shoulder. "Will Ernest and Catherine be there?"

I glanced at Sam, then said, "No, hon. They were just making sure you knew enough to start school. Kind of a... a everything-you-need-to-know for school on Earth."

"Oh," she said. "I guess I'm ready then."

I squeezed her shoulder, telling her to go wait in the car and I'd be out in a minute. Once she disappeared into the living room, Sam was out of her chair and we were once again embracing. I kissed her softly and asked, "Will you be home when I get back?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. I have to go to the base sometime today... what did you have in mind?"

I slid my hand under the waistband of her pants, sliding my fingers over her ass. "I was thinking we could take advantage of having the house all to ourselves." I kissed the hollow of her throat. "I remember you telling me once you had very vocal orgasms..."

Her head was rolled back, her eyes closed. "I, uh... I've been holding back. Cassie's just down the hall, you know."

I pulled her head down and explored her mouth with my tongue. When we separated, I said, "I wanna hear you scream, Samantha Carter."

She shivered in my arms and she whispered, "You know, I've been watching your breasts swing under that shirt. It was driving me so damn crazy all through breakfast."

I kissed her nose and winked. "My breasts swing when they're out of this shirt, too. Will you be waiting for me?"

"Upstairs. In the bed." We kissed again and I reluctantly pulled myself away from her body. I turned back as I left the kitchen, seeing that she was licking her lips and watching my ass as I walked away. I smiled and shook my hips as I walked. I chuckled and proceeded to the driveway where Cassandra was waiting for me.

---

The ride to the school was relatively quiet. I promised her that she would make many new friends, but maybe not on the first day. I told her about lunch and gave her enough money to buy the hot meal the school offered. The weather had called for a chill, so Cassie was wearing a thick jacket and had gloves and a hat in her bookbag if she needed them later. I hadn't heard anything about snow in the forecast, but the dark clouds on the horizon didn't make me feel altogether safe. I parked in a temporary space outside of the cafeteria, climbing out and offering my hand to Cassie.

Expecting to be outside for only a minute, I had neglected a jacket. Now, I wished I had grabbed my trenchcoat or at least Sam's leather jacket. Hell, at this point I would've settled for a bra. I could feel my nipples hardening beneath my sweater and prayed it wouldn't be evident once we were inside.

I held the door for my daughter, escorting her to Ms. Newberry's class as promised. She again took my hand as we headed down the halls and I looked for other students. The hallways were vacant. A quick glance at my watch informed me that it was 7:50. Where were all the kids? I squeezed Cassandra's hand and quickened my pace.

The door to Ms. Newberry's classroom was recessed into an alcove right behind the glass-enclosed library. I peeked through the thin glass window in the door and knocked lightly. Sure enough, twenty-five to thirty kids sat in their desks, watching the attractive blonde woman perched on the corner of her desk. The blonde - Ms. Newberry - turned at my knock and motioned for me to enter.

Recalling my formative years, I suddenly realized how uncool it would be for Cassandra to arrive with mommy in tow. I held the door open for her, allowing her to enter. By the time she was inside, Ms. Newberry had approached. "Hi, I'm Sharon Newberry. Could we talk for a minute?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. Sharon Newberry turned to Cassie and lowered herself so they were eye-to-eye. "I assume you're Cassandra?" A shy nod. "Well, I'm Ms. Newberry. Why don't you go have a seat in that row over there while I talk to your mom for a second. Okay?"

Cassie looked to me and I nodded. As she moved towards the indicated desk, I took the opportunity to scout the environment for her. The two desks in front and one to the side were all occupied by other girls; hopefully she would be spared the typical pre-teenager boy crap. Sharon exited the classroom and closed the door behind herself. She was a slight woman, one of the few people in this world that I was on even ground with, her golden blonde hair tied in a ponytail that ran to the center of her back. I wondered how many students harbored crushes on this particular teacher. I pushed aside all thoughts of how great she looked and apologized, "I'm sorry she's late; I thought classes started at eight, so I put my whole schedule together and I--"

She held up a hand and interrupted me. "It's okay, Miss Fraiser..."

"Dr. Fraiser, actually." I didn't know why I felt the need to correct her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said, placing one hand on her chest. "I should have informed you of our little scheduling hell when you enrolled Cassandra. You see, a few years ago the PTA voted to begin school at 7:45 on Friday to allow the students to leave fifteen minutes early for the weekend. The high school isn't very far from here and the seniors like to drag race along this road. This gives our students time to cross the street or get to their buses without worrying about speed-drunk idiots. It started out as just Friday, but we've gotten accustomed to starting classes at 7:45 every day. Old habits die hard, you know." She smiled sweetly. "The handbooks still haven't been reprinted, so I won't mark Cassandra as tardy, but you might wanna check her in at the office."

"I'll be sure to do that," I said. "Thank you for being so understanding."

She leaned against the door and said, "I understand you're raising Cassie by yourself..." I wondered how she knew and she smiled shyly, apparently reading my mind when she said, "The secretary's a friend of mine. Sometimes there's nothing better to do than gossip. So... you're raising her alone?"

"Not exactly. I, uh... have a very good friend who is helping me out."

Sharon straightened slightly and I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment on her face. "Oh. Well, if you ever need anything... or if your friend is out of town, I like to go out of my way to help struggling parents." She blushed slightly. "Or, in your case, parents who seem to have everything together. My number is in the information packet we'll be sending home with Cassie today. That is, my number here at the school and... at home."

I was ashamed it took me so long to realize the obvious. Cassandra's teacher was flirting with me! "Um... okay, sure. But I don't foresee any problems with her in the future. I really have a... a stellar group of friends. They're really out of this world." Especially Teal'c. I looked down at my shoes to hide my smile, then looked back up at her. "If there's nothing else...?"

"Oh!" She glanced over her shoulder as if remembering she had a job to do. "Right. You're probably on your way to something pressing, I suppose..."

The only pressing I planned to do was against a beautiful, horny blonde woman waiting at home. I smiled and nodded quickly.

Sharon sighed, then brushed a phantom hair out of her eyes. "Don't forget to, uh... sign Cassie in. Have a nice day, Ms... Dr. Fraiser."

I nodded and then said, "Janet would be fine." I think I saw her swallow before she turned and went back into the classroom. I peered past the teacher's delicate shoulder and saw Cassandra sitting shyly in her seat. The three girls surrounding her were all turned in their seats, questioning the 'new meat.' I was about to feel sorry for her when my daughter laughed and said, "No, Toronto!" One of the other girls said, "I love Toronto! My daddy said he's gonna take us there when--"

The door closed, cutting off the rest of the conversation. I smiled and headed to the office to check my daughter in. As I walked the quiet, pristine halls, I thought about Ms. Newberry's blatant flirtation with me. Had I imagined it? I had seen her when signing Cassandra in a few days ago, but she hadn't seemed... I mean, I can usually tell when someone is... I shook my head. There was little mistaking what had just happened; a beautiful, available woman had flirted with me and I hadn't done a thing in return.

As I stepped into the office, I had to hide a smile as I was once again reminded that I had it bad for Samantha Carter.

The extremely helpful secretary pointed out the late sheet and I signed my name, then Cassandra's. The secretary explained that this would be an 'excused tardy,' which would keep it from going against her in the long-run. Apparently, after a certain number of unexcused tardies, the student was placed in detention after school. I thanked her for clearing up the ritual and bid her farewell.

Back in my car, I practically tore out of the parking lot in anticipation for what awaited me at home. I licked my lips, suddenly wishing I lived closer to the school. The tape in my stereo was playing a quiet song by Frank Sinatra and I turned it up, hoping that he could take my mind off my condition.

"Those fingers in my hair," Ol' Blue Eyes crooned. "That sly 'come hither' stare... that look that lures me there, it's witchcraft!"

I turned the stereo off. Damn... damn, damn, damn.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, my body was humming like an orchestra of kazoo players. I burst into the house, locking the door behind myself as I rushed for the hallway. Taking the stairs two at a time, I shed my sweater and undid my belt, my fingers working at the catch of my jeans as I burst into the bedroom. I stopped, out of breath and unbelievably aroused as I examined my lover.

She was sprawled on the mattress, her lips parted and her hair covering her face. She was nude, a magazine laying open in front of her. Her pose would've been incredible erotic... if she hadn't been asleep. I approached the bed, slowly letting the denim of my pants slide down my legs. As Sam slept, I slid onto the mattress and pressed my lips to hers. After a moment of contact, she opened her eyes and smiled. "Janet."

I grinned. "I hate to wake you up, but I'd *really* hate to do this to you in your sleep."

She pushed the magazine away. I heard it fall to the floor in a cascade of pages. One of her arms slid along my waist while the other cupped my head. She turned me, pulling my small form across her own and affixing her lips to mine. When we separated, she said, "Baby, you can wake me up anytime." We kissed softly, exploring each other thoroughly before she allowed me to arrange myself comfortably on the mattress.

Then, we got down to business.

Chapter Two

"My God, but you have beautiful toes."

Sam snickered and looked down her body at me. "Everything we just did and the body part you wanna talk about is my foot?"

We were lying next to each other in a sixty-nine position on the maelstrom of sheets and blankets on my bed, our nude bodies wrapped in a sheet that did little to conceal our bodies. I was breathing heavily, my head near the foot of the bed. I rolled onto my stomach and lightly kissed the arch of Sam's foot. She wiggled her toes and I smiled, lightly tracing lines along her heel with my fingernails. "I can't help it," I said. "You just have such cute little toes."

She found my calves with her hands and lightly massaged the muscles there as she sat up. "You have cute everything." She rolled onto her stomach as well and crawled down the length of my body, letting her breasts skim the surface of my body before she began nuzzling my neck. I raised up into her caress and turned my face, accepting her lips as she began to kiss me passionately. Her hands found my breasts and she rolled me onto my back once more.

I gently placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her up, away from my mouth. "Hold on, sweety," I whispered, glancing at the clock. "It's five to noon... you have to be at the mountain by one, right?"

She collapsed on top of me, resting her head on my shoulder. "God... I hate stopping this for *that*." Groaning, she rolled onto her side and wrapped me in her powerful arms, crushing me against her chest. I could barely breath, but I didn't care. I brushed several strands of golden hair out of her half-closed eyes and scanned her face before whispering, "I love the way you look after sex."

Her fingernails scraped a gentle trail from the crack of my ass to the base of my skull. I arched against her, my voice turning into a purr as she stroked my spine. She kissed my exposed neck and promised, "Only a select few get to see it." She tilted her head back so she could clearly look at me. Her free hand cupped my face and she said, "And I don't think anyone else will be seeing it for a long time." She kissed me softly, her arms tightening around me and subsequently deepening our kiss.

I bit her lip playfully and, when she pulled back, I said, "You wanna call General Hammond and tell him this is why you're not coming in? Cause if you don't, I will."

The captain grumbled and released me, rolling onto her back and spreading her arms on the mattress. She sighed. "I hate leaving you."

"We would've had to stop for lunch anyway. I've already worked off breakfast." I brushed my hair out of my face and scooted to the edge of the bed, finding my slippers and putting them on. Sam dismounted the bed on the other side, going to the closet to find something suitable to wear to the base. I don't know why she bothered; whatever she wore turned into a black t-shirt and green pants as soon as she set foot in the lockers.

As she dressed, I pulled a robe on and said, "I'll see what we have for lunch downstairs. You can eat before you go."

Downstairs, I was dismayed to discover that all we had was leftover cereal. I poured a bowl of Golden Grahams for Sam, adding milk and sugar as she entered the dining room. I presented the bowl with an over-done curtsey. Affecting a British accent, I said, "Lunch is served, madame."

Sam moved to the counter, taking the bowl and said, "Mmm, a beautiful woman who cooks. My fantasy come to life."

I smiled and said, "Glad you approve."

We walked to the dining room table together and took our seats, Sam eating while I watched. After a few bites, she casually asked, "What're you doing this weekend?"

"This weekend?" I shrugged. "Dunno. I may be on-call. I promised Warner that I'd take the overnight shift on Sunday since SG-4 is due back at about two, Monday morning. Why?"

She took a bite of her cereal, thoughtfully chewing before she answered, "I had something planned... D'ya think we can convince the guys to watch Cassie this weekend for us? I'll be sure to have you back by Sunday."

"What did you have planned?"

"A surprise," Sam said, winking at me.

I leaned forward, propping my wrists on the edge and holding my face in my hands. "A sur-*prise*? What is it?"

"Janet, Janet, Janet," she admonished. "It wouldn't be a surprise if I *told* you my itinerary."

I recalled some of my ex-husband's so-called surprises before convincing myself that Samantha Carter would never consider some of the bone-headed things that he had tried to pull off. "Well, should I be getting anything prepared? I have some outfits that I could get out of storage and packed while I'm off-duty."

She placed her hand on top of mine. "All you need, sweetness, is that blue teddy in your underwear drawer. On Friday, I'll tell you what you need to pack. I have the rest of the weekend lined up."

Her hand squeezed mine and I smiled. "How'd you know about that teddy?"

The captain smiled wickedly. "Just pack it. I'll try to be sure I'm home by seven on Friday. We'll take Cassandra to dinner, drop her off at Daniel's and then... your surprise awaits." She leaned forward and kissed me, nibbling on my lower lip before reluctantly pushing me away. "God, Janet," she whispered. "Eat garlic, stop brushing your teeth, buy neon-orange lipstick... just help me fight this addiction to your kisses."

I chuckled and kissed her cheek, brushing away any non-existant traces of lipstick before I realized I hadn't put any make-up on today. "Go to work, Sam. You'll be so busy you won't remember me at all today."

"Oh, I doubt that," she smiled, winking before she hurried out of the kitchen. She was already pushing it if she wanted to get to work by one. I listened for the front door slamming and, a few seconds later, heard the revving of her motorcycle's engine in the driveway. I chewed on my fingernail for a moment, then walked to the living room to see what kind of drivel constituted daytime TV these days.

---

Before starting on the dishes, I had changed into jeans and one of my ex-husband's shirts. I had preferred wearing his things even when we were married, the extra room making me feel like I was naked. It was a welcome change after endless days stuffed into uncomfortable uniforms and high heels. I was in the middle of washing the dishes from breakfast and lunch when the phone rang in the living room. I rushed across the floor, picking up the receiver with soapy hands and managing a quick, "Hello?"

The polite, vaguely-robotic female voice on the other end of the call chirped, "Hello. Am I speaking to a--" I assumed she was checking her computer or files, "--Ms. Samantha Carter?"

I frowned. "Um... um, no, this is Janet Fraiser, her room mate." What else could I call myself? "Could I help you?"

There was a pause as if the question had stumped Little Miss Mouse. "I'm not sure. This is Cindy at the Boulderado." The what? I wanted to ask. I allowed her to continue uninterrupted. "We had a little problem with Ms. Carter's credit card number. You see, our computers were down when she called and there's some confusion about whether a number is a four or a nine. Do you happen to know her number?"

Sam's wallet was sitting on the coffee table; she never trusted lockers after an incident at the local gym. I chewed my lip and wondered if I should give Sam's number to a complete stranger over the phone. "What is this in reference to?" I asked.

"Oh, Ms. Carter reserved a deluxe room for this weekend. We have to confirm her credit card before we're allowed to reserve the room in her name."

I blinked. A room in a hotel? "Um... where are you located?"

"We're located in beautiful downtown Boulder, Colorado, just one block away from the Pearl Street Pedestrian Mall, right in the heart of the shopping and dining district..." I seemed to have triggered her tourism button.

"Actually, Cindy," I interrupted, grateful I had remembered her name, "I'm a bit apprehensive about giving her number over the phone. I could get in contact with her and tell her that there's a problem. She could contact you then, if she wishes."

"Oh, I understand," Cindy said. "Do you have a pen to write down our number?" I grabbed a pen and jotted the hotel number down on my palm. "Have a wonderful day, ma'am." There was a click as the call was disconnected.

I was in a quandry. I had discovered Sam's little plan: She was planning a weekend away in Boulder, but the room reservation - and all of her plans - would fall through if I didn't tell her to call in her credit card number. Of course, I could call Cindy back and give the number out myself. The room would be set and Sam would never have to find out her secret was ruined. Unless, of course, Sam's surprise had nothing to do with Boulder and this was just some elaborate scam.

Finally, I realized I was being stupid. Cindy had asked for Sam, not for me. Anyone looking numbers up in the phone book would have been confronted with the slightly anonymous "Fraiser, J." I picked up the phone and dialed the number I had inked on my hand. After dialing the number twice and failing to get an answer both times, I realized the irony that I was misreading a four as a nine. I assume Cindy would have gotten a good laugh out of that if I had bothered to tell her.

---

After the incident that morning, I made certain I was outside of Cassandra's school at 2:30. I spent a few minutes fiddling with the buttons on my radio, then finally climbed out and made my way to the same doors I had used before. I blinked at the transformation that had taken place during the day. What I had seen as the cafeteria had transformed into a basketball court for a gym class. Six boys rushed past me on the hardwood floor in pursuit of a bouncing orange ball. The gym teacher was pacing on the sidelines with a fury to surpass Bobby Knight. I watched him blow into his whistle several times, then scream at one of the kids to 'keep himself open.'

The coach seemed to be keeping the boys occupied near the sidelines, so I hurried across the floor in the hopes that I wouldn't get sideswiped by a ball or, heaven forbid, six gangly boys who would love the opportunity to collide with a full-grown woman. I made it to the hallway unscathed and breathed a sigh of relief, wondering how Sam managed to rush through Jaffa defenses if I couldn't handle a group of uncoordinated teenagers. I straightened my shirt (I had changed to a cream-colored blouse to look presentable, but tried to convince myself it wasn't to impress Cassie's teacher) and continued down the hall. The clock on the wall told me it was 2:41. School was almost out for the day, so I quickened my pace.

I stepped into the alcove that contained Sharon Newberry's classroom and peeked in the window. I wanted to see how Cassandra looked in the midst of all these strangers. My heart quickened slightly when I saw her desk was empty. I tried to calm myself, trying to find comfort in the thought that class was almost over and that students sometimes moved around during the final minutes to talk to friends. Or maybe she was just in the bathroom. The bell rang a shrill tone and I stepped aside, leaning against the glass wall of the library as the students in Ms. Newberry's class filed out. I looked at them all. None were Cassandra.

I peeked around the doorframe and saw the teacher sitting behind her desk, a young girl asking a question about photosynthesis. I waited at the door as the question was explained and the girl closed her book, heading to her desk to gather her things. I cleared my throat causing Sharon to look in my direction. Her face brightened slightly and she stood, adjusting her skirt as she approached me. "Hello, Janet. I assume everything is taken care of?"

Uh-oh. "Taken care of?" My palms felt sweaty.

Sharon's face went pale. "Oh, my God. No one called you?"

Everything stopped making sense at that moment.

---

Samantha Carter's fingers flew across the keyboard, instantly changing the programmed heading of her newest toy. She turned in her seat, fixing her gaze on the computer screen a few feet away from her position. The sandy horizon pictured on the screen was tilted at a forty-five degree angle, continuing to turn horizontally as it began to receive her latest instructions. She suppressed a laugh as she turned back to her keyboard, typing in another heading. That done, she rolled to the monitor and watched as the UAV rose into the sky a full fifty feet before it turned and dive-bombed the dunes of the desert planet. It corrected at the last second, the propeller blades on it's nose kicking up dirt and momentarily obscuring the camera.

"I assume this is more than just... flying a toy airplane?"

She smiled, recognizing the voice immediately. General Hammond bent at the waist, watching the small mechanical plane soar over the sand dunes. As she typed in the last bit of directional information, she turned to face him. "Actually, Sir, at this point that's basically all it is. I tested the UAV's capabilities on the Tollan homeworld, but I was curious as the the accuracy. So, I sent another UAV unit to Abydos and I'm comparing these reading to the ones initially reported by the MALP. So far, so good, Sir. I think I can safely say we have another method of obtaining atmospherical information from worlds we visit in the future."

A smile teased the older Texan's lips and he nodded. "Good work, Major." He glanced at the active Stargate, then said, "How long has that thing been open?"

"Uh," she glanced at her watch. "About ten minutes, Sir." She winced as she said it, knowing what was coming next.

He nodded, then said, "Why don't you close it down? We may have people trying to get home."

With a quiet "Yes, Sir," she did as he asked. She ordered the UAV to land near the Stargate and sent the signal to disconnect the wormhole. They would retrieve the airplane later, when they had the time to spare. Before she relinquished her chair to it's normal occupant, she jotted down a few notes about improvements to the unit that had come to her during the trial. That done, she stood and headed for the elevators. She had a little time and, granting she wasn't interrupted, could get the schematics drawn up before she left for the night.

Left for the night. The words still tasted funny on her tongue... not too long ago, she had been practically obsessed with her work, not surprised when she looked at the clock to discover she had gone twenty-four hours without eating. But now... she had a family waiting. She smiled and held the clipboard in front of herself as she boarded the elevator. A family. The thought caused a warm glow to radiate from beneath her chest. It was a feeling she'd never gotten with any boyfriend and hadn't *really* felt even after accepting Jonas' proposal.

The elevator stopped and she stepped out, allowing all thoughts of Janet and Cassandra to fade as she walked towards her lab. She remembered her first day at Stargate Command and the words Hammond had spoken to her: 'This lab is basically open to everyone on the base, but feel free to use it.' From that day forward, the small room had become Sam's lab to everyone who knew about it. No ifs, ands or buts.

She dropped her clipboard on the table and turned on her computer, just beginning to get comfortable when the telephone rang. The captain supressed a sigh and stood, walking to the wall-mounted phone. She wondered for the millionth time why they didn't have phones on their *desks* where it could do some good and plucked the receiver off it's rest. "Captain Carter," she said.

"Captain," came an anonymous airman's voice, "We have an incoming call for you from Myers Junior High. Please hold for connection." There was a pause, then a double-click, then the familiar sound of a phone ringing. The phone was answered immediately and Sam heard the calm, soothing voice of a woman she assumed to be the school secretary.

"Captain Carter? You were on the emergency call list for Cassandra Fraiser. There's... been an incident."

The captain's heart plummeted to the soles of her boots.

---

My brain ached. I could feel the pressure pounding against my temples, the evidence of a headache that had been building while I had been unconscious. I forced my eyes open and tried to focus on my surroundings. I failed. All I could make out was the fuzzy outline of a blonde head as a soft hand gripped mine. I moaned, trying to clear my mind. "Sam?" I groaned, trying to sit up.

"No, it's Sharon Newberry... Cassandra's teacher." She smoothed my hair out of my face, letting her cool fingers linger on my forehead. "Are you okay? You took a nasty fall. I think you knocked yourself cold."

Everything came rushing back to me in that instant. I opened my eyes wide, blinking as I tried to search the office. "Cass. Where-where is Cassandra?"

Sharon held me down, her hands firm on my shoulders. "She's fine, fine... It's not important."

I moved her hands and sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the couch I'd been spread out on. I held my head, trying to stop the pounding. "What happened? You-you said there was something--"

Sharon took advantage of the vacancy next to me and lowered herself to the cushions, sitting a little too close for comfort. I tried to ignore the warmth I felt as her thigh brushed against mine. "It's nothing," she assured me. "She ate a little too much at lunch and got sick during gym class. She's totally fine, she was resting in the nurse's office, but we sent her to wait in the library." She placed her hand on my arm. "I just want to be sure you're okay."

"We'd all like to be sure of that."

The new, male voice shocked me and I looked around the room again. I had failed to notice we weren't alone. The couch on which I sat was placed against the back wall of a spacious office, next to a door that was closed at the moment. Directly ahead of me was a beautiful oak desk, which was topped with a laptop computer and stacks of colored papers. The wall behind the desk was decorated with various degrees, most of which I assumed were for teaching, and the seal of the United States Navy. The seal wasn't surprising, considering the man who was perched on the edge of the desk. I had met Principal Alan Kline once before, when I was enrolling Cassandra.

Principal Kline was an imposing man who kept his hair short, a by-product of his time in the service, I assumed. The color of his hair was unusually orange, reminiscent of pumpkins or leaves in the fall. His face was shaped like a spade, his eyes fixed in a permanent squint that was currently focused on me. His body looked as if it had once rivaled Teal'c in the muscle department, but it had softened after years behind a desk. When he spoke, his voice was clear and loud, like that of a drill sergeant well-trained in making disorderly trainees stay in line. "Are you sure you're not suffering any ill effects from the incident?"

My reply was cut off my the door slamming open. Samantha Carter burst into the office, her eyes scanning Principal Kline, Sharon Newberry and finally me. The secretary entered a few seconds later, apparently thinking Sam was a security threat. I stood and said, "Sam," moving to my lover's side. She wrapped me in her arms and the secretary decided she was no longer concerned. Kline waved to her and she disappeared, closing the door behind herself. I stepped back from Sam, fighting tears. The captain was still wearing her blue jumpsuit, but all identifying insignia - most notably the SG-1 tag on her shoulder and the SGC mark on the other - had been stripped away. She ran a hand through her mussed hair and looked to Principal Kline. "I was told there was an incident?"

Kline smiled, his lips moving together in an amused pinch. "Cassandra was a bit ill, but it was your friend that gave us the biggest scare." I noticed how he said 'friend.' For some reason, it made me like the man a bit less. "She had a small episode in Ms. Newberry's class."

"I'm afraid I'm the one to blame for that," Sharon said. She was looking intently at my hand, which was currently wrapped tightly within Sam's. "I broke the news about Cassandra's illness rather... bluntly. I assumed she knew."

Sam was looking at Sharon again. "What kind of illness? Is Cassie okay?"

Kline stood. "She's fine." He repeated the information he had given me, then said, "If everything is in order, I'd like to put an end to this meeting." He checked his watch. "The janitors get a little antsy if I'm here too long after school ends." He moved away from his desk and walked to the door, holding it open for us. He gave a slight nod and said, "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Samantha. And you, Ms. Fraiser--"

Sharon suddenly said, "Doctor." We all turned to look at her and she nervously tugged her ear. "She's... a doctor."

Kline let his gaze linger on his employee for a moment, then turned back to me. "Pleasure meeting you, Dr. Fraiser. Cassie is in the library and I assume you can find your own way out?"

I nodded and Sam let me lean on her as we left the office. Behind us, I could hear Mr. Kline asking Sharon if she could 'stay behind for just a moment.' I gripped Sam's hand tightly and whispered, "Thank you for coming for me."

She rubbed my shoulder and asked, "Are you sure you're okay? It's not like you to--"

"I know," I snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness of my tone. I touched my fingers to the bridge of my nose and shook my head slowly. "I'm... can we talk about it later?"

"Yes, of course sweety." She raised our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. "I hate thinking you were hurt." I pressed against her side, leaning my head on her shoulder. She rubbed my shoulder and promised, "Let's go get Cassandra and get home... then, I'll show you the meaning of the word 'pampering.' Sound good?"

"Sounds heavenly... just heavenly."

The library's heavy glass doors squeaked as we pulled them open and we passed through a large frame that I assume scanned for stolen books hidden away in backpacks. I eyed the contraption, wondering how bad the school systems were getting that even the libraries needed scanners. Of course, if the students were stealing books, would that be good or bad? I decided to push this thought aside and scanned the library. Dozens of shelves lined the walls, branching into rows that created a labryinth through the room. I wondered how we would ever find Cassie in this maze.

Sam spotted a woman behind a desk, busily running her scanner over several bar codes as she prepared to close up for the day. She looked up as we approached and smiled, indicating the far side of the library. "Cassie?" she asked. I nodded and she elaborated, "She's on the other side of those shelves. Working on homework, I think."

We followed the woman's direction, slipping into the maze of shelves and following the dark corridors they formed until we exited in a large open area populated by long, wooden tables. Cassandra was seated at the farthest one, a short redheaded girl sitting across from her. Cassie was busy filling in answers on a worksheet, occasionally glancing at her textbook to make sure the answer was right. The girl she was with was thumbing through her World History book. I cleared my throat, causing both girls to look in our direction.

Cassandra was on her feet, running to me in the blink of an eye. She wrapped her arms around my waist, inadvertantly pulling me away from Sam. The other girl just stood nervously, gathering her things. Cassie smiled and stepped back. "Are you okay, Mom? Ms. Newberry said you passed out."

"I'm fine," I promised. "Who's your friend?" I indicated the redheaded girl.

"That's Rebecca," Cassie explained. "She knew I had to stay after school and wanted to keep me company."

I smiled. "Well, that's very kind of you, Rebecca. Do you need a ride home?"

She shook her head and said, "My mom is the librarian. She wanted to make sure Cassie had a way home before she left."

I rubbed Cassie's back and said, "Well, I'd like to thank you for keeping my daughter company. That was very kind of you. Cass, why don't you go get your stuff, huh?"

Cassie walked back to the table, eagerly shoving her worksheet and books back into her bookbag. She said goodbye to Rebecca and promised to bring 'the tape' tomorrow. Rebecca said she was glad Cassie felt better and promised to save a seat for her at lunch. With that, Rebecca disappeared into the maze of shelves in search of her mother. Cassandra returned to me and I took her hand. "Rebecca seems nice," I noted.

"Yeah, she's pretty nice. I sat with her at lunch today." Her head lowered and she admitted, "I ate too much."

"That's okay," I assured her. "Just go easy tomorrow, okay? You don't have to spend *all* the money I give you." I glanced back at Sam, noticing she was following us with her hands buried in her pockets. I mouthed, 'What's wrong?' receiving only a shrug in response. I reached back with my free hand and took hers, squeezing it softly and pulling her to my side. We exited the library hand-in-hand-in-hand, me in the middle. Halfway to the car, Sam nudged me and squeezed my hand. I returned the squeeze. Me and my women. I couldn't have been happier in that moment.

Little did I know that sometimes, happiness can only grow.

Chapter Three

Cassandra deposited her dishes in the sink and began running the water over them. Sam approached from behind, helping the girl with the dishwashing liquid and squirting some into the basin. As the water level rose, they talked about the girl's first day at school and her new friend Rebecca. The basic conclusion was that Cassie liked school, but wasn't too thrilled about spending most of every day there. Sam assured her it was for the best and then challenged the girl to a deathmatch on the new videogame system they had received from Jack O'Neill.

Sam dismissed the girl to set up the video game, promising she would follow shortly. Alone again, Sam let her mind wander to the incident at the school. She wondered about her new lover's health, worried about what had actually caused the normally composed Dr. Fraiser to lose it like that. The dishes were clean long before Sam had an answer, so she abandoned the thought and joyfully moved to the living room to join Cassandra in a battle for the fate of some obscure alien planet. 'Art imitates life,' she thought as she picked up the controller to play the part of the video game's heroine.

---

It was dark when I finally woke up. I could hear soft music playing on the CD player next to my bed and wondered for a moment when I had turned it on. Before putting me to bed, Sam had stripped me of my clothes (just wanting to make sure I could sleep comfortably, of course), so the cool sheets were heaven against my bare skin as I stretched beneath them. The nap had rejuvenated me, taken the stress from the incident at school and banished it to the back of my mind. I stretched my arms over the head, enjoying the soft music that I assumed Sam had picked for me. It was extremely relaxing and, if I didn't get up soon, it was going to lull me back to sleep.

Moving slowly, savoring every brush of silk sheets against my skin, I scooted into a sitting position and began groping for the lamp. Before I found the pull, I heard a voice to my right whisper, "Leave it off... just for a bit."

I gasped, turning to face the speaker in the darkness. All of the curtains were opened, casting a little bit of light from outside into my bedroom. I could make out Sam's shape, but it would take a minute or so to see her features. I slid lower and reached out for her hand. She met me halfway and let our hands drop to the mattress. I whispered, "Hi," my voice thick with the gravel of sleep. I cleared my throat, resting my head once more on my pillow. "What time 'sit?"

"Ten," she said. "A little past, actually."

I grinned in the darkness. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"You looked so beautiful. I came in to wake you up for dinner and... I couldn't bear to disturb you." She anticipated my next question and said, "I put Cassandra to bed at nine, then came in here. I love watching you sleep."

Her thumb was rubbing the outside of my hand. I wondered if she was naked or if she had changed clothes. When I had gone to sleep, she was still wearing her blue jumpsuit. I rolled onto my side, resting my hand on her hip and sliding it up. I had my answer; Samantha Carter was as naked as I was. "I watched you sleep last night. You're beautiful, too."

My eyes were getting used to the darkness now. I could see her smile, the dim light flickering across her teeth as she turned away from me. "I wanna talk to you, Janet. About... about today."

Uh-oh. "I don't... want to talk about it. I was just a little tired and I..."

"I've seen you work twenty-four hour shifts without batting an eyelash, Janet." Her tone was hard, but comforting. I bit my lip and buried my face in the pillow. "I talked to Ms. Newberry on the phone earlier; she was calling to make sure you and Cass were both okay. She told me that you passed out the second she mentioned something was wrong with Cassandra. What happened?"

I sat up again, reaching for and pulling the cord to turn on my bedside lamp. Sam blinked in the sudden onslaught of light, then sat up and pulled me closer. I ran my fingers through her hair and allowed myself to think about the actual cause of my fainting spell. I didn't want to admit it to her, barely wanted to tell *myself* this was the reason. I sniffled and said, "It makes me sound so selfish."

Sam was silent, allowing me to explain without interruption.

"When I f-first met you, I knew that there was something special about you. I wanted to tell you every day how I felt, but I just couldn't force myself to tell you. So every time you went through that damned Stargate, I was afraid that it would be the mission you didn't come back from. That you would die before I had a chance to tell you how I really felt. And... now that I've told you, I'm afraid that every mission will be your last and I'll have to say good-bye to you. I'm constantly afraid that I'll be left alone. It's like a waiting game; waiting for the bombshell.

"And then, there's Cassie. God, she was-was so small... and frail... and I just love her so much that I constantly wonder if I missed something during all of our exams. I'm worried that Nirrti did something to her that we haven't caught yet and the big trap is on it's way. So I'm waiting for *that* bombshell to explode, too. All of this... anticipation has been boiling up inside of me and when Ms. Newberry told me something had happened... I thought 'This it is. The big one,' and I allowed all of that-that dread and anxiety to pour out of my body. It was too overwhelming and... I passed out." During the story, I had started crying. My eyes were red, my nose running like a faucet. When I finally stopped talking, I felt the sobs rising in my throat.

Sam grabbed for me, wrapping her arms around my waist and holding me tight. She didn't try to tell me that I was worrying for nothing. She didn't try to tell me that nothing bad would happen. She just held me. She let me cry on her shoulder, let me get all of my tears out before she started brushing my hair out of my face. I clung to her body like it was a life preserver; I felt like my bed had become an ocean and I had rocks tied to my feet. I sobbed like a child, clinging to my lover's bare shoulders.

My body was shaking when the tears finally dried. I sniffled a few times, sitting up and brushing at my eyes. Sam handed me a t-shirt and allowed me to blot my face with it. That done, I turned out the lamp and reclined against her, my arms draped loosely over her midsection. I listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing as I tried to drift off to sleep. Finally, I heard her whisper, "I'm sorry."

I sat up, searching for her eyes in the darkness. I couldn't find them by sight alone, so I raised one hand and skimmed my fingers over her features. I cupped her cheek in my hand and asked, "Sorry? For what?"

"I'm sorry I worry you, Janet." She kissed my palm and said, "I'm sorry for taking stupid risks." She nibbled on the pad of my thumb. "I'll quit, sweetheart. If you want me to. If it'll make you feel better that I'm safe, I'll tell General Hammond I just want a desk job. Work on UAVs and MALPs. I'll do it."

I kissed the hollow of her throat and said, "You do that, Samantha Carter, and you might as well hand Apophis an iris code. There's no way you'll quit." I found her lips and kissed her. "But thank you for offering. Thank you."

We lay together quietly for a while, until our light touches became slightly more urgent. We began to massage each other, exploring the contours we were more than happy to reacquaint ourselves with. I rolled on top of her, our bodies moving in the gentle, now-familiar rhythm of making love. As we moved together, our hands linked. I felt my fingers wrapping around hers and she squeezed my hand lovingly. We clutched each other as we climaxed mere seconds apart, our bodies falling still once more.

Afterward, I curled myself in her arms and kissed the upper swell of her right breast. "I love you, Sam," I whispered, resting my head on her chest. I could tell she was moving her jaw, but no words came out. She didn't reply. I laid my hand on her stomach and traced the circle of her navel with my fingertip. In the past, lovers had failed to respond to my affirmation of love, but it had seldom been a large problem. Now, it was a gigantic problem. I knew Sam loved me, but she had yet to say the words.

Forcing myself to move on, I kissed her breast again and said, "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, darling," she whispered. I could've sworn I heard tears in her voice. I pulled myself closer to her body and closed my eyes. There had to be a reason she didn't reciprocate. I felt her hand in my hair, toying with the long strands. I fell asleep with her fingers in my hair, the soft light from the window washing over me, and the quiet sounds of the CD she had started playing in my ear. If she had just said she loved me, the moment would have been perfection.

---

The next morning came and went without mention of my unrequited expression of love. I dressed for work and Sam, unfortunately, was also slated for duty. Most of Cassandra's built-in babysitters comprised SG-1, which meant that none of them were available. As Sam and Cassie ate breakfast, I headed across the street in my uniform and stood on my neighbor's porch. Reluctantly, I rang the doorbell. Our initial meeting with the woman had seemed tense, mostly due to Sam's immediate dislike of the woman. She had assumed Sam and I were lovers and had merely inquired which agency we used to adopt Cassie. It was a harmless enough mistake, but I could feel the hatred seeping out of Sam's body.

Abigail Tierney answered the door dressed in a sensible business suit, her head tilted to one side as she fixed an earring in place. She smiled when she saw me, then said, "Hi, uh... Dr. Fraiser, right?"

"Right," I said, fidgeting with my jacket. "We've hit a bit of a snafu... you see, Sam and I are both on duty until about nine tonight and we were wondering if there were any local babysitters who might be willing to watch Cassandra until we show up. Any local, cheap babysitters."

Abigail smiled and smoothed her skirt, slipping her feet into a pair of high heels. "Gosh, ah... the only girl I know of is Bethany, but she's busy this afternoon. But David, that's my husband, he manages to get out of the office by three-thirty every day and keeps an eye on our kids. I'm sure he wouldn't mind another."

"Are you sure? I mean, I'd hate to put anybody out--"

"No trouble whatsoever." She was already retrieving a cell phone from her briefcase and dialing a number. After a few seconds, she said, "Hey, David? The woman across the street was wondering if you'd mind keeping on eye on her daughter this afternoon. Yes, the Air Force woman." She rolled her eyes. "Her name is Dr. Fraiser, David."

I mouthed, "Janet."

She smiled. "Janet Fraiser. Her daughter's name... uh--" I mouthed that, too. "Cassandra. Yeah. She goes to school with Emily, so you should be able to pick them up at the same time... Okay. They'll be gone until about nine, so... yes, David. Okay. Love you, too. Okay. Bye." She hung up and smiled. "Hope Cassandra likes chicken. David's picking up a bucket of the colonel's finest on the way home." She paused and looked at my uniform, then said, "Hey, you didn't know Colonel Sanders, did you?"

I smirked. "A little before my time."

Abigail laughed and stepped out of the house, closing the door behind herself. "Just a tad, huh?" I followed her to the garage, expressing my thanks to her and inquiring what I could do to repay her. She rebuffed my offer of payment, then turned and said, "Actually... there *is* something I'd like. I'd like to have dinner with you and Cassandra. Feel free to bring a date or whatever. I'm one of those weirdos who actually likes getting to know her neighbors. Besides, it's the least you could do. I'm taking your brat all night on short notice." She winked, taking the sting out of her barb, and checked her watch.

"I... will be sure to make plans. I'm one of those weirdos, too." The garage door slowly began to rise and I stepped back, looking inside and seeing a little girl about Cassandra's age. It was she who had pushed the button to activate the door. I said good-bye to Abigail, promised again that I'd fit dinner into my schedule sometime in the near future and headed across the street to inform Cassie of her playdate. I had managed to sidestep the babysitting land mine, but had stepped directly onto another. Should I show up with no one on my arm or should I reveal my sexual orientation to my neighbors? Doing the former, Sam would no doubt feel left out. But with the latter, I ran the risk of alienating my neighbors and risked them giving the Air Force a friendly little phone call.

So many problems. I decided to put the dinner plans on the back burner and get in an appropriate mindset for work.

---

"Sam." It was a quiet plea. Hopefully enough to get the message across. It wasn't.

"S-sa-aam..." Not so quiet. Muffled, though, and still ineffective.

"SAM!"

I snapped her name, punctuating the statement with a gentle backwards shove. Sam's lips were finally separated from mine and we both took a well-needed breath of air. I cleared my throat and smiled, moving my hand from her shoulder to gently squeeze her breast. "I would love to spend all day like this, but we can only go to a certain point before... we're unable to stop." I winked. "Wouldn't want you all hot and bothered when you go through the Stargate, now would we?"

She smiled and adjusted herself on my lap, scooting her hips closer to my stomach. She was straddling my hips, her boots hanging down on either side of my chair. The door was closed, locked, and the window blinds were all closed. Unfortunately, though, there were only a certain number of things we could do before it got out of hand. Sam had almost crossed that line. I kissed her just below her ear. She sighed and said, "When I get home?"

"I'm all yours, baby. Tonight, right?"

She nodded. "It's a simple survey. MALP picked up some kind of large power source near the Stargate. Hammond is hoping we can find something useful... maybe a generator to cut down on the cost of keeping this place up and running." She kissed my jawline, skimming her lips from my chin to my ear. "It's a cake walk."

I pulled away, raising my lips to her ear and nibbling playfully on the lobe. "Don't get many of those."

Quietly, she pulled herself up and away from my lips. "You're right," she whispered. "Can't cross that line."

I reclined in my chair and said, "Have a good mission, babe." She headed for the door, adding a swing to her hips that I'm certain was just for my benefit. She unlocked and pulled the door open. A moment before she disappeared from sight, I called in a quiet but carrying voice, "I love you, Sam." Her hand froze on the doorknob. Time seemed to have frozen. Finally, she let the door close completely without returning the words I longed to hear. I leaned forward, propping my head in my hands.

Why didn't she want to say it? She showed me every time we were together. She let me know in her eyes... I loved her, she loved me. It was right out there, sitting next to our hearts on our sleeves. Would it be that horrible to actually admit how she felt in words? I decided I was being silly and pushed all thoughts of those three little words out of my mind. I had other things to do at the moment. I gathered my things and stood, making sure my blouse and skirt were presentable before I left the office.

Dr. Warner had everything under control in the infirmary, so I told him I'd be in the control room if I was needed. He agreed to hold down the fort and I walked quickly to the elevators. The short ride was enough for me to convince myself I was being foolish about the 'I love you' thing. Sam would see I had come to wish her farewell, then everything would be copacetic between us again. I shouldn't be forcing the issue this soon; we were two tiny weeks into our courtship, she'd never had a female lover before and everything was a bit scary at the moment. At the end of my rationalization, I didn't blame her for not returning the declaration.

The control room was buzzing with activity, as it always was before a jump. I stood beside General Hammond, burying my hands in the pockets of my lab jacket. "Everything all right, Doctor?"

"Fine, Sir." I said. "Just wanted to see SG-1 off." I forced a smile and looked into the Gate Room, seeing Daniel, Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c milling about by the ramp. As Chevron Five was locking, the doors opened and Sam moved quickly to join them. She glanced at the Control Room, eyes brightening slightly when she spotted me. I saw a flicker of a smile on her lips, but it quickly vanished. The Stargate roared to life seconds later and SG-1 was once again on a journey across the cosmos. Jack O'Neill glanced up as well, offering me his trademark smirk. I offered a polite wave.

Sam walked up the ramp, cradling her gun to her chest. Just before stepping through the event horizon, she paused and watched the ripples a few inches from her face. She seemed almost mesmerized by it. Then, she stepped through and was gone. My heart quickened as soon as she was out of sight. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. I felt my heartrate quicken and wondered if my uneasiness had gone unnoticed.

I forced myself to ignore my intuition and turned to Hammond. "I'll be in the Infirmary... if anyone needs me."

He nodded slightly and I walked away, praying no one would need me.

---

"Dear God..."

I had never wanted to be so accurate in my intuition. I raced across the room, slamming my hand against the security button that caused klaxons all over the base to ignite. SG-1 - or whatever they were - still stood behind me, pretending to be as frightened and shocked as I was. I picked up the phone, grateful I didn't drop the receiver in my haste, and spoke in crisp, clear tones to the man on the other end. "Alert! Security to the infirmary!"

Daniel Jackson turned, shocked. "Security? Dr. Fraiser, it *is* us."

I glanced at Sam, then realized it was easier to be impartial while looking at Daniel. "Just... don't come any closer." I concentrated on Colonel O'Neill and Daniel, keeping my eyes away from the one that resembled Sam. I knew one look into those soulful blue eyes would make me crumble. I stood firm as Hammond entered, thankfully taking over for me. I doubt I would've been able to order Sam to the holding cells. When the lookalike and her team filed past, I pointedly looked away, telling myself that this was *not* my Sam... not the woman I had held and cried with. Not the Sam I loved.

Once they were gone, General Hammond turned to me and softly inquired as to X-Rays. I told him that I had already ordered them and they would be done within an hour. He congratulated me, telling me I had 'done well' and walked off, his vocal pat on the back doing nothing to ease my mind. That white blood... God... was that inside of Sam, too?

She's not Sam, I told myself. She. Is. Not. Sam.

The phrase became my mantra as I started going through the motions to prepare the X-Rays. The orderlies rushed off at my command. I was the CMO. I was in charge. I gave the orders, and I could give hell if my orders weren't followed to the letter. I was the head honcho. I ruled the infirmary and I was unshakeable. But all I wanted to do was curl into a ball in the corner and cry. Sam was missing, replaced by some robotic creature.

The bombshell had dropped.

---

The cursor blinked at the top of the screen, mocking me. How could I possibly begin? How could I...

I angrily turned off the computer, standing up and kicking my chair against the wall. This was impossible. It couldn't be happening. A dream. This was a dream.

Nightmare.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see that damned scalpel cutting through Colonel O'Neill's forearm. I couldn't stop thinking about those mechanical parts inside of him. They were no longer human. Some... bastard on some alien world had replaced them with robotic duplicates. I had tried to remain calm and professional while diagnosing them. Had managed to fake calm when calling security on my lover and her teammates. Thank God I had an office to cry in.

I paced nervously, trying to come up with something - anything - to explain what had happened on P3X-989. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to look at the past few hours from a detached standpoint. SG-1 had been examined before they were able to give a mission briefing, so we had no idea what had transpired during the three hours they were away. All we really knew was that some 'son of a bitch,' as Colonel O'Neill had called him, had done something. But what? They seemed to know everything about the real SG-1, right down to the names of General Hammond's nieces. The colonel had known when General Hammond's wife had died and *I* didn't even know that.

There was a quiet knock on the door and a nurse entered. "Dr. Fraiser? The..." She searched for the right word and finally said, "The robotic Captain Carter has been prepped for an X-Ray."

I cleared my throat and thanked her, pausing to check my reflection before heading out to interact with other people. Two airmen were standing inside of the room that held the X-Ray machine. Sam was sitting on the bed, wearing a hospital gown and looking positively delicious. I forced myself to not think of her as my lover and entered the room. "Hello, Captain Carter," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "Please lay down on the bed and we'll have this done in a minute."

"Janet..." she whispered. Her hand brushed mine as I passed and I shivered involuntarily. "Can we talk? Alone?"

I glanced at the airmen, noticing that they were watching every move I made. "No," I said firmly. I wanted to call her something, but I couldn't think of anything that would apply to this... poseur. So instead, I called her nothing. "We cannot talk, alone or otherwise. Please, lay on the bed and this will all be over soon."

She blinked and whispered, "Janet. Please..."

"You will refer to me as Dr. Fraiser," I asserted, hoping the tears in my eyes weren't as visible as they felt. "Lay on the table or I will be forced to have the airmen move you." She reluctantly lowered her back to the bed and I began to process of photographing her insides. Robotic, just like Colonel O'Neill and Daniel had been. I sighed and rested my head on the cool machinery, then turned to the airmen. "Take her back to the cell and bring Teal'c. You may want a few more airmen to help you with him."

They nodded, helping Sam off the bed and leading her to a changing room. When she emerged, she was again wearing the unusual skin-tight black outfit, her sad blue eyes aimed downward. I forced myself not to be emotionally drained by this... robot and prepared the machine for Teal'c's exam.

---

The two men on either side held Sam Carter in a vice-like grip, their fingers hurting her apparently synthetic flesh. She didn't try to struggle, didn't fight them for her freedom. She had been sapped of energy by her encounter with Janet Fraiser. 'She thinks you're a robot,' she told herself. 'She probably thinks it's a Goa'uld trap. I don't blame her for being so cold.' The captain forced herself to push all thoughts of Janet aside and focus on the problem at hand: mainly, getting back into her real body so she and Janet could make up for their respective coldness.

She was deposited in the cells and Teal'c was led away. Colonel O'Neill and Daniel were sitting at the table in the center of the room, talking about some boring subject or another. She walked past them, climbing onto the top bunk and curling into a tight ball. As her teammates argued quietly, she cried into her pillow.

Chapter Four

The Stargate stood open, awaiting the return of SG-1. I could feel my pulse racing as I watched the shimmering blue surface a few yards ahead, hoping and praying that the team arrived safe this time. This was *not* going to be the mission that I lost Sam on. It couldn't be. I was about to ask out loud if there was a problem when the event horizon wavered and the flagship team stepped through. All four started down the ramp and the wormhole shut down. I was out of the control room and past the guards before anyone had a chance to stop me. General Hammond was right on my heels.

O'Neill was looking at the guns aimed in his general direction, eyebrow cocked. "General... I assume that the... Robo-Team caused some problems while we were away?"

"Assume?" Hammond asked. "So, they weren't really you?"

Sam shook her head. "No, Sir. Harlan - the man who created the robot duplicates - simply copied us. He needed help to keep his world from falling down around his ears so... I guess we were just likely candidates."

I stepped forward, pretending to pick Sam at random and checked her pulse. Strong and steady. When I released her hand, I allowed my fingers to drift over her palm in a quiet statement of relief. "She has a pulse, General. So far, so good."

He nodded, then said, "Report to the infirmary for X-Rays and blood tests. Meet me in the briefing room as soon as it's done."

Colonel O'Neill agreed and held his arms out. "Lead the way, doc. We're your guinea pigs to poke, prod and probe."

I winked at him and said, "I thought you liked the probe, Colonel."

He graced me with his trademark smirk and brushed past me, already heading to the infirmary. When I had first arrived, it had taken chloroform and three airmen to get him to the infirmary for an exam. Now, I had convinced him that the sooner he did it, the sooner it was done and the longer until the next one. It was a kind of fuzzy logic, but it had worked. I playfully tugged on the sleeve of Sam's jacket and led her from the Gate Room.

---

"Blood p-pressure is normal. I... uh, I think reaction time is within acceptable limits." I licked my lips. "G-good muscle tone." Sam gripped the side of the bed as my fingers manuevered below her hospital gown. With my free hand, I smoothed the gown over her left breast and flattened my palm against her chest. I closed my eyes and reported, "Heart rate... seems elevated." I gasped as my hand was suddenly warm and wet. I looked up at her and said, "Patient seems to have concluded physical examination without warning."

Sam smiled, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "Sorry, sweetheart... when do I get to examine you?"

I pulled her forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. I licked her top lip when we separated and said, "Tonight. I promise." I withdrew my hand, pausing to lick it clean. I was glad I had opted not to wear a rubber glove for this exam. Sam slipped off the bed, pulling her gown over her head and finding her underwear. She was sweating, so I picked up a towel and rubbed down her back as she slipped her panties on. She sighed, tossing her hair out of her eyes. I squeezed her shoulder, then kissed her neck. "You had me worried," I whispered. "I thought... maybe--"

She turned and cupped my face. "I'm fine, Janet. I never *wasn't* fine. I'm sorry I scared you again."

I looked into her eyes and saw an immeasurable sadness there. "Don't worry about me, Sam. I'll be fine." I kissed the tip of her nose and said, "Now finish getting dressed before Warner comes asking what's taking so long." During the routine exams, I had 'come up with' the brilliant idea to do a sort of spot check; a total exam of one member of the team at random to make sure that Harlan hadn't pulled a fast one on us. I almost kissed Teal'c on his mouth when he suggested that 'perhaps a female would be more comfortable with the invasive exam.' Sam, of course, had readily agreed.

While Sam was fastening her trousers, I left the exam room carrying the clipboard of legitimate information I had obtained during my 'exam.' I filled out several blank spots, then slid the clipboard into the appropriate slot to be filed later. Across the infirmary, I saw Dr. Warner assisting Ferreti with a leg splint. Sam exited the room, following my line of sight and smiling. "Ferreti," she said. "Who's here more, him or Daniel?"

"It's a toss-up," I said, sliding my hand from her shoulder to her elbow. "What're you getting for dinner tonight?"

"Oh." She looked at her watch. It was eight-thirty. The Tierney's were only supposed to watch Cassie for another half-hour. "Actually, uh... I need to get something worked out here. Would you mind getting something?"

I shrugged. "No problem. What're you in the mood for?"

She looked at the wall, as if I had posted a menu from every restaurant in town there. Finally, she said, "Something Italian, maybe. It doesn't matter. I won't be home until late, I think." She pecked my cheek and said, "You want me to wake you when I get home?"

My hands found her hips and I pulled her into a curtained area. Once out of Warner's sight, I kissed her long and deep. "I won't be sleeping when you get home," I promised, nuzzing her cheek. "Tonight, I'm yours. Remember."

"How could I forget," she sighed, sliding her hands from the small of my back to cup the roundness of my ass. "I'll try to hurry, but I don't really know how long I'll be. I'll see you later, sweety." I smiled, licking my lips as I separated from her, watching her leave the infirmary.

Now that Sam was out of sight, I slipped back into my complete professional mode. I walked around the curtain towards Warner and his patient. "Ferreti," I snapped. "If you want Nurse Alvarez's phone number, just ask. Don't keep hurting yourself." I winked at him as I checked his chart, putting my mind off of Sam Carter.

---

I stood under the burning porch light of Abigail Tierney's house, wanting desperately to get out of my high heels. I had parked in my own driveway, putting up the garage door before heading across the street to retrieve my daughter. The doorbell chime was muffled to my ears, but I could hear activity inside of someone scurrying to respond. Finally, a lock turned and a tall, handsome man I recognized as Abigail's husband appeared. I'd seen him only once before, but he was unmistakable. He stood well over six foot, his light blonde hair receding slightly. He smiled slowly at me, as if trying to figure out where he knew me from. Turns out, he was just trying to remember my name. "Ah... Janice?"

"Janet," I corrected with a smile. "Close enough. Um... I'll take Cassie off your hands now."

David leaned on the door and said, "Actually, I don't think that would be in her best interest." I frowned, wondering if he was some kind of nut. His smile spread so slowly, I almost missed it's appearance. "She's too busy to go home right now." He motioned over his shoulder. "Emily got this new game - Jurassic Space Monster Karate Blood Fest or something like that. They've been playing it for hours. In fact, Em has a rollout bed in her room if you think Cassie would like to spend the night."

I raised my eyebrows, then said, "Um... well... sure. If it's okay with her." I hope I appeared more casual than I felt. The thought spending a night with Samantha Carter in an empty house was almost too much to bear.

David called Cassandra and she bounced around the corner with a giant grin on her face. The grin brightened when she saw me and she rushed to greet me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Mom! I missed you so much! But Emily is soooo cool! Thanks for letting her Dad watch me today!"

Smoothing her hair, I said, "Well, Mr. Tierney has offered to let you spend the night. But if you missed me *that* much, maybe we should turn him down."

Cassandra gasped and stepped back. "Really? Oh, Mom, you're the coolest! Can I stay?"

I laughed and told her it was fine with me, so she turned and raced back to the living room to tell her friend the good news. I was about to thank David for granting me a reprieve when headlights cut across the lawn and illuminated David's blue jeans. I turned, watching as Abigail gathered her things and left her car in the driveway, wearily approaching the front door. David put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Hurry home, my love. My wife is too tired to suspect anything."

Abigail looked up and said, "Hey, if she sleeps with you, she's doin' your laundry too."

I pulled away from his hand and said, "In that case, it's over."

Abigail laughed and kissed her husband hello, slipping into the house. When she was out of sight, David said, "You can come get her any time tomorrow morning. Abby and I usually wake up around five, so someone'll be up to get the door no matter what." I thanked him once more, wishing him a good night before heading back across the street. A whole night. Just me and Sam. Imagine the possibilities...

---

"Who?!" I asked, not believing what I had just heard.

Sam bent her head down to accept her treat, but I wouldn't allow her what she wanted until she explained what she just said. She sighed and leaned back. "Dudley Moore," she said. "The man is... a comic genius. Try not to laugh at any of his movies." The seemingly innocent question had been 'who is your favorite actor.' I had said Bruce Willis, then she had sprung Dudley Moore out of nowhere.

I twirled the spoon between my index finger and thumb. "I have tried. Successfully."

Sam grabbed my wrist and angled the spoon towards herself. She swallowed the cup of the spoon and inhaled the vanilla ice cream there before leaning back. A speck of hot fudge remained on the left side of her lip, but I didn't alert her to it's presence; it was kind of cute, actually. "I don't believe that. Have you ever seen, ah... 'Unfaithfully Yours'? The movie where he's a conductor in an orchestra?"

I shrugged. "Aren't all his movies the same?"

"No!" she asserted. She scooted forward, cradling the blankets to her chest. "Okay, in the movie, he goes away for a concert and tells his friend to keep an eye on his young, beautiful wife..."

I listened to her explain the premise of the movie, but couldn't help but be distracted by my surroundings. We were sitting on my bed, the candles on the headboard and bookshelf our only source of illumination. We were both still nude following our lovemaking, the sweat on our bodies glistening in the flickering candlelight. I was laying on my side, my legs tangled in the sheet. Sam was sitting cross-legged in front of me, my blanket bundled and held in her lap. Between us was a tub of ice cream coated with hot fudge. I held the lone spoon, occasionally feeding some of the cold concoction to my lover.

"So, anyway, it ends with him drunk, stumbling around trying to kill her with... with a spoon or something," Sam said, laughing at the very thought. Her breasts were shaking with every chuckle, giving me quite a show from my perspective. "And it's just... hilarious. I mean, he's wearing the mask, she has no idea what's going on and..." She looked at me. "And you don't really care about any of this, do you?"

I grinned and sat up, pulling her face close to mine. My tongue lashed out, stroking her lip and gathering the spot of fudge she had missed. Licking my lips and then kissing her softly, I said, "Why don't we rent it sometime?"

Sam smiled, our faces still inches apart. "I just told you the whole movie... and you hate Dudley Moore."

"Well," I said, sliding closer to her. "If *you* like him, he can't be all bad. Maybe I just saw it on a bad day or something." I kissed her cheek. "I'd like to be able to enjoy movies with you."

"What if you watch the movie and you still hate it?"

"Then we have to break up and you can move in with some other crazy Dudley Moore lover." I grinned and let my hand drop into her lap. Sam watched the spoon as I placed the cold bottom against the smooth skin of her inner thigh, painting opaque lines of vanilla ice cream from her knee to her upper thigh. As casually as possible, I asked, "Say, Captain Carter, what time do you have to be at the base tomorrow?"

"Oooooh," she groaned, feeling the ice cream beginning to slide coldly down her thigh. "Ooo-ooh-nine-hundred..."

I lowered my head, flattening my tongue against her thigh and gathering all of the ice cream I had just smeared. Lapping at her upper thigh like a hungry kitten, I said between laps, "You... better get some... sleep then, I would... think."

As I moved to raise my head, I felt her fingers in my hair and her raspy voice proclaim, "Don't stop."

That was enough for me. I gently spread her legs and placed my cold tongue against her warm skin. She gasped, arching her back and lifting her ass off the mattress. She was mine.

---

Several hours later, and only a few hours before Cassandra had to leave for school, I finally allowed Sam to sleep. I traced lazy patterns on her stomach, playing with the fine hairs that led to her pubic area as I considered our relationship. Did she see me as just a casual sex partner? Could *that* be why she hadn't said she loved me yet? My fingers traced a line from the apex of her legs, around her belly button, then mapped the path between her breasts. When I reached her face, I cupped her cheek in my hand and turned her face to mine. She was so beautiful, her eyelids fluttering as she dreamed, her lips slightly parted.

I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip, then leaned down and kissed her. This woke her from her slumber and her eyes turned on me. The brilliant cerulean hue was obscured by the curtain of sleep. "Janet?" she asked.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

She scooted closer to me and I brushed her hair out of her face, cradling her to my breast as she tried to reclaim her slumber. Before she passed out, I asked, "Sam? Are we still on for this weekend?"

I thought I felt her shiver when she replied, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Janet."

As she slept, I scanned the bedroom. Our sheets and blanket were on the floor, out of reach by hand. The candles had all burned themselves out. The tub of ice cream, foolishly left in place when we began again, had toppled to the floor and was now probably staining the carpet. My mouth felt sticky from all the vanilla I had eaten that night. I rested my head on the pillow, absently stroking Sam's hair as she slept.

---

I spent the rest of the week in anticipation of Friday. When it finally rolled around, I felt like a kid who had finally reached her birthday. The entire day was wasted flipping from one insipid TV show to another until I finally gave up and started cleaning the house. Sam refused to let me pack for myself, so I had nothing trip-related to do. When she bounced in the door at 6:30, I was busy running a moist washcloth over the kitchen counter. I glanced over my shoulder at her and smiled broadly, tossing the rag into the sink. "Hey! I didn't hear your bike pull up. You ready for dinner?"

"Definitely," she said, stepping closer. "Are you ready for your surprise trip?"

She slouched, allowing me to press my forehead to hers. "Absolutely."

"Good," she said. "Cassandra?"

I motioned with my chin at the front of the house. "Eating over at the Tierneys tonight." After a quick discussion and an explanation of the weekend plans (without revealing that Sam and I would be sharing a hotel room), Abigail had practically begged me to let her watch Cassandra. The girls had both been thrilled and I finally relented. It would be easier than dropping her off and picking her up at the colonel's (plus I doubted she'd pick up as many bad habits from the Tierneys). I stepped back, displaying my outfit. I was wearing an unbuttoned green vest over a plain white t-shirt and some light brown slacks. "Is this nice enough for where we're going to eat?"

She looked me up and down, then turned me around and playfully squeezed my ass. "Nice enough," she chuckled. "You about ready to go?"

"I've been ready all day. C'mon." We linked arms and headed for the garage.

---

Dinner was sublime. Shrimp Alfredo from Primo's, a delicious restaurant Sam and I had discovered a together a few months earlier. We'd eaten our first meal as friends there, so it had sort of become our place. The waiter - a nice kid with a lisp named Nathaniel - knew us by name. We always tried not to laugh when he greeted his favorite customers: Janet and Tham. We usually failed. I looked down at my plate in resignation, eyeing the remaining portion of noodles. "I don't think I can finish it... but it looks so good," I complained.

"Want a Puppy Plate?" she asked.

I snickered at the colloquialism. When I first heard her use it, I had immediately corrected her. She continued to use it and now, I found the whole thing unbearably cute. "Sure, Sam. Get me a Puppy Plate."

Nathaniel answered her raised index finger and approached quickly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Yeth, ladieth? How may I thervith you?"

Sam smirked at me, then asked, "May we have a Puppy Plate, please?"

Nathaniel frowned, then looked at me. I smiled, feeling sorry for him, and explained, "A to-go box."

He smiled at her, then winked and said, "Of courth. Right away, mith." He plucked my plate of the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

Sam leaned forward, covering her face with both hands. "God... maybe we should give him a tip tonight: Take speech classes." She shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing at him. I've been in that boat bef--" She stopped speaking so quickly, I wondered if maybe someone had hit her mute button.

I looked up at her, raising my eyebrow slowly. "You've what?"

She blushed, realizing she had given herself away. "Ah..." She looked around, as if expecting someone to rush in and rescue her from the embarrassment of what she was about to say. "When... I was in the third grade, I had this very proper teacher named Mrs. Richards. I--" She pursed her lips and spun her glass, making a pattern of water rings on the tabletop. "You know, I've never told anyone this story."

I grinned. "Then I feel that much more special. Go on..."

"Okay," she rolled her eyes. "I couldn't say my R's. I pronounced my name Samantha Cahtoe."

I tried to cover my laugh with my hands. I failed. "I'm sorry," I apologized, shaking my head. "You took speech therapy classes?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "For three years."

"Three years?! For R?"

She blushed again. I was starting to find the image of a flustered Captain Carter very attractive. "Yes. I couldn't get my lips around the damn consonant. I even asked Dad to change our last name to Smith. But finally, I did get to it in the sixth grade. Are you happy?" Her smile was now forced; I could tell she felt she had changed herself in my eyes.

I tapped the table and said, "I couldn't tie my shoes until I was twelve." She looked up, locking eyes with me. I nodded, "Pre-tied laces. Sandals... I wish we had the luxury of velcro back then, but if we did I probably would never have learned to tie the damn things. You name it, I tried it. I just couldn't figure out that damned over-under-around-the-tree formation that my Mom and Dad tried to teach me. Walking down the halls, all those kids would step on my shoelaces and make me stumble or I would step on them myself and fall flat on my face. One day, I just locked myself in my room and worked with the damned things until they were tied." I smiled. "Twelve years old."

My lover's smile was no longer forced. She reached across the table and took my hand in a showing of thanks as Nathaniel returned. I thanked him and we left a hefty tip, scooting out of our booth and heading towards the door.

---

We left Colorado Springs just after nine PM. The ride to Boulder would take us two hours, making us arrive at eleven. Not wanting to give away how much I actually knew about this 'surprise,' I turned to Sam and asked, "How long will we be driving for this little... surprise?"

She smiled, glancing in the rear view mirror. "About two hours. We should arrive just after eleven." She reached down with one hand and adjusted the controls, turning the heater down to what I thought was sub-zero. The one major difference between us was our choices in temperature. There were times that she slept on top of the covers in the nude while I was quaking under three blankets. I had never understood her comfort in the cold... I was about to complain about the chill when Sam reached into the backseat, fumbled for a minute, then retrieved a small, handstitched quilt. She handed it to me and asked, "You cold?"

I took the quilt from her, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

She brushed my leg with her hand before I pulled the quilt over myself. She pushed a cassette into the player and turned the volume knob. Seconds later, the soft tones of George Strait filled the car. I smiled and reached down the crack between my seat and the door, looking for and wrapping my fingers around the recline lever. "I'm gonna sleep for a while, 'kay?"

"All right, honey," she said.

I pulled the lever and my seat tilted back into the backseat of Sam's car as George Strait sang a song about baby blue eyes. I stared at the ceiling for a while, lip synching along with the country singer, then looked at my own 'baby blue.' As the song ended, I was about to close my eyes and catch some sleep when she released the wheel with one hand, digging into the pocket of her leather jacket for a moment before retrieving a small white box. It was wrapped in paper the color of pearl, with a crimson ribbon tied lovingly around it. She tapped the box against the wheel for a moment before returning it to the pocket of her coat.

My mind began racing, listing possible contents of the small package. Sam reached over, resting her hand on my thigh as if making sure I was still there. She rubbed slowly, not applying enough pressure to wake me had I been asleep. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to slowly pass out from the steady rhythm of the road mixed with the soothing music coming from the radio.

"Baby Blue was the color of her eyes," George Strait sang. "Baby blue, like the Colorado skies. Like a breath of spring, she came and left, and I still don't know why. So here's to you and whoever holds my Baby Blue tonight."

I grinned in the darkness. I was going to be holding her tonight. I had my baby blue and all was right with the world.

Chapter Five

I woke on my own, realizing that Sam's hand was still resting on my thigh. It warmed me to think that we had been in constant contact during our trip. I reached down, raising my seat as I fought off a yawn. I peered out the window, seeing the beauty and splendor of the Rocky Mountain foothills. Okay, okay... the silhouettes of the beauty and splendor. I could see them in all their glory when the sun finally rose in the morning. I smiled and said, "Boulder."

Sam nodded. "You like it?"

I placed my hand over hers and said, "I love it. Thank you, sweetheart."

"Boulder," she promised, "is just the icing on the cake. You have got some more big surprises coming."

Giggling, I said, "Why do I feel like a contestant on 'Let's Make a Deal'?"

"Trust me, honey. You won't have to give anything back this weekend. This is all about you." She stroked my thigh with her fingers, turning to face me and offering a sly wink. "Starting with a night in a hotel room."

I felt my heart jump and grinned. "Good thing I slept on the way up here."

---

While Sam checked in, I wandered towards a sitting area and dropped into a grossly comfortable chair. If the beds were anything like this chair, Sam was going to be a very frustrated chickadee... I rested my head on the back of the chair, pulling my legs up and underneath myself in one fluid motion. I intended to only rest my eyes, but soon felt Sam's lips on my cheek. "Sweetheart," she whispered. "Wakey, wakey."

My eyes blinked open and I rubbed my face, looking around. "Are we checked in?"

She dangled a key and said, "We sure are. C'mon, let's get you upstairs and into bed."

I accepted her outstretched hand and allowed her to pull me to my feet. I leaned heavily against her, draping my arm over her shoulder as we walked to the elevator. She carried the small bag that contained our pajamas; the hotel offered free parking and she had left the luggage in the trunk for the morning. Both of us were too tired - and too proud to admit we were too tired - to lug all the bags upstairs.

The elevator music was playing an instrumental version of "Something" by the Beatles. I pressed my body to Sam's, wondering what would happen if I tried to ignore my exhaustion and make love to Sam before passing out. I grinned, admitting that it would probably mean I'd fall asleep in the middle of it despite my best efforts and wake up in the morning in an extremely odd position. Sam nuzzled my hair and whispered something I couldn't make out.

I propped myself up against the wall outside of our room while Sam fumbled with the key. I yawned, covering my mouth as I watched a young couple exit a room further down the hall. He was wearing a robe, she was wearing a dress that she had apparently just thrown on. She giggled and kissed the man, then did something to him under his robe. He turned and saw us, blushing a bright red before politely shoving his lover away. She spotted us and chastened herself. They kissed before she started down the hall, leaving him to disappear into his room. The woman was forced to pass our room on the way to the elevator and murmured a polite "Evening" as she brushed by us.

The door finally swung open and Sam pulled me in, kicking the door shut with her heel once I was safely inside. I turned, finding her in the darkness and kissing her passionately. Sam was pressed against the door, her hand dropping the suitcase and wrapping around my waist. She physically lifted my feet off the floor, causing me to cling to her, and carried me deeper into the room. As she sat me down, I kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her chin and finally locked once more on her mouth. Our lips and tongues dueled in the darkness, our hands busily exploring through clothing. I pressed my lips to Sam's nose and whispered, "Sam, I want to do this... desperately... but I don't think--"

"I know," she replied, stepped back and taking hold of my hands. "I'm tired, too. And I didn't even get a nap on the way up," she chuckled. She moved away from me, turning on the overhead lights before turning back to me. She was slipping out of her leather jacket, revealing her light blue blouse. I wet my lips and approached her as she whispered, "Come here."

I pressed her against the wall and she looked down into my eyes, the difference in our height once again becoming an issue. Sam copied my lip-licking motion, her lips glistening in the soft light of the hotel room. "I need to get dressed for bed," she whispered. "My pajamas are in the bag." She had dropped the bag near the door, within arm's reach. Slowly and hopefully as seductive as possible, I slid down my lover's body, my lips inches from the cloth of her blouse. I kissed her stomach through the shirt, reaching out and pulling the zip on our bag.

On top of the other clothing, I found Sam's silk pajamas laying dead center. I fingered the folded material, smiling. She knew these were my favorite. I picked up the shirt (which was long enough to keep her covered) and slithered up her body once more. I draped the shirt over my shoulder and began working on the buttons of Sam's blouse. Her breathing was shallow as my fingers carefully slid buttons through thin button holes, slowly exposing the goosebumps on her upper chest. I resisted the urge to unhook her bra until her entire shirt was undone. I slipped the shirttail out of her pants, brushing the shirt lightly off her shoulders.

She was wearing a lacy peach-colored brassiere that I had never seen before. Her nipples were pressing against the undergarment, straining the tight material. Carefully, I pressed my lips to the soft flesh just above the lacy edge of her lingerie. She gasped as I passed my tongue over the gooseflesh. I raised my head, meeting her eyes and asking, "Do you want your bra on under your jammies?"

Her reply was a simple negative shake of her head.

I unhooked the bra, slipping the straps from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. She rested her arms on my shoulders, allowing me to drink in the sight of her bare chest once more. I cupped her right breast, then began to bend my knees. I knelt before her, pressing my face to the warmth of her stomach, fluttering my tongue in her belly button before I found the snap of her jeans. I looked up at her to find she was watching me closely, our gazes locking across the expanse of her body. Her fingers wound through my hair as I lowered her zipper and tugged the tight denim down. The material pooled around her feet and she quickly stepped out of them, momentarily getting her shoes caught in the folds. I chuckled and assisted her in freeing her feet, pulling the sneakers off and hurling them across the room.

That done, Sam stood before me in socks and panties. I stood and pulled the pajama top off my shoulder, holding it out and carefully slipping each of her arms into the short sleeves. I tugged the front closed, buttoning only two middle buttons to allow her to be decent while showing off what she had to offer. I smiled and kissed her. "Ready for bed, sweetheart?"

"You have to dress and undress patients for overnight stays in the infirmary, right?"

I smiled. "The incoherent ones, yes."

She sighed. "Are you that good with all of them?"

"Only the beautiful, sexy, brilliant, blonde-haired, blue-eyed astrophysicists," I promised.

She slid my vest off, finding the hem of my tshirt and also pulling it away from my flesh. In under three seconds, I was completely bare from the waist up. Sam cupped my breasts and kissed me softly. "What kind of pajamas would you like to wear tonight, Doctor?"

Winking, I lowered my voice and pressed my lips to hers before replying, "You know me, baby... never afraid to sleep in the nude."

I laughed out loud when Sam threw me onto the bed and began tearing at the button of my pants.

---

"Janet?"

"Mmm."

"Janet, are you awake?"

I opened my eyes, allowing myself to finally admit that I was, indeed, still in search of slumber. "Yeah," I whispered. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Nothing," Sam whispered. "I just can't sleep."

I felt her hand tracing lazy circles on the small of my back. She was curled up next to me; I was well aware of the heat of her bare thigh against mine, as well as the presence of her sock pressed against the sole of my foot. I felt surrounded by her, but more importantly, I felt protected. I scooted across the mattress, moving closer until I felt the weight of her breasts against my back. I rolled over, our faces close together and our lips practically touching as we spoke. I asked, "Why can't you sleep?"

She shrugged, the details of her face barely visible in the darkness. She didn't answer me for a long time; if it wasn't for the light glistening in her eyes, I would've thought she had fallen asleep. Finally, she said, "I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"This weekend... if it was a mistake."

I frowned, freeing my arm from the blanket and resting it on her shoulder. "A mistake? Why would you think that? I love everything so far," I assured her. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow and I'm certain I'll be sorry to leave." I closed the few centimeters between our lips and kissed her, my tongue dancing across hers. "I'm with you, for two days, no interruptions. No Stargate emergencies, no Cassandra to barge in... just me and you. I'm in heaven right now, Sam... whether I can sleep or not." She smiled at that. "What would ever make you think something this wonderful could be a mistake?"

She kissed me softly, flattening her palm to my cheek. "I--" My heart quickened. For a moment, I thought she may finally be ready to admit her love for me. Instead, she said, "I'll talk about it tomorrow. Good-night, honey."

My lips formed a steady line and I brushed her hair out of her face. My eyes had been open long enough that I could make out her features. There was a tear running down her cheek. "What's hurting you?" I asked quietly.

Again, she simply replied, "I'll tell you tomorrow, Janet. I just want to be with you right now." She kissed me again and then muttered, "Good-night."

We fell asleep in each other's arms, clinging to each other for support. I just wish I knew what I was supporting her against.

---

I grumbled against the pillow as the first rays of sunshine slashed violently across my face. I rolled over, away from the window, and pressed tightly against Sam's sleeping form. I felt her arm lazily drape across my body, but she didn't stir. I pulled all the incoherent first-morning-thoughts together and managed to determine my situation: I was in a hotel bed with Samantha Carter on the first morning of our mini-vacation. I was nude save for my panties; she was wearing panties and a pajama shirt with a pair of socks.

Relenting to the sunlight permeating the room, I opened my eyes and blinked in search of a clock. The hotel-provided alarm revealed it was a little past eleven. I groaned and let my face fall once more against the pillow. Sam murmured slightly, then asked, "Janet?"

Her hair had apparently tried to escape her head during the night; the strands were sticking up in a million directions, obscuring her eyes. I brushed the golden strands aside and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, sweety."

She stretched, her joints popping quietly as she reached for the ceiling. Taking advantage of this little morning ritual, I danced my fingers along the underside of her left arm. She jerked and her body collapsed in on itself, her knees tucking in to her chest and her arms tightening around them. I didn't cease my tickle attack, just climbed on top of her and continued. Soon, I had her pajama top open and tickles had turned to caresses. Sam's fingers moved along the warm skin of my thighs, moving towards the cotton of my panties. We stayed like that for a while, simply touching each other, until Sam smiled and said, "Okay, okay, I'm awake."

I leaned down, flattening myself over her as we kissed good-morning. I pulled back slightly, resting my head on her shoulder. Her hands lightly massaged my lower back. "So," I asked. "What's on the itinerary for today?"

"Nothing scheduled until seven tonight," she promised. "We can spend all day in bed, if you want."

I smiled and looked at the nightstand. "That'll be great... but how about I order some breakfast from room service first?" She agreed and I reluctantly climbed off of her. I perched myself on the edge of the mattress while she retreated into the bathroom. Before closing the door, she slid the unbuttoned shirt off and dropped it on the floor. I smiled at her bare back and picked up the phone, eyeing the room service menu.

After one and a half rings, the front desk picked up. The young woman I spoke to was extremely polite and told me that they had, unfortunately, stopped serving breakfast at ten-thirty. I told her that was fine and took a moment to scan the lunch menu before settling on a salad for myself and a ham and turkey sandwich for Sam. The girl told me it would be a few minutes and told me the price. I thanked her and hung up, moving to the jeans Sam had so eagerly removed last night. The change from the Italian restaurant the night before was more than enough to cover the room service bill.

That done, I decided to dress in order to be decent enough to get the food. Of course, if I answered the door as-is, I could probably hold off on the tip... I knelt next to the suitcase Sam and brought in with us and searched for something acceptable to wear. All I could find was a pair of pajamas I had opted not to wear the night before and some toiletries. I picked up the shampoo bottle, toothpaste and brush and carried them to the bathroom door. The shower was running, so knocking would be futile. I turned the knob and quietly entered, setting the supplies on the sink where Sam would see them. I was almost to the door when I heard Sam's voice in the shower stall:

"Janet... these words have never been easy for me to say, but I think-- No... Janet, these past few weeks have been wonderful and I wouldn't change them for-- God." I turned, eyeing her bare back as she practiced an obviously important speech. Her hair was plastered to her head and she was searching for a handtowel that had fallen somewhere near her feet. "I... I would never want you to think that I'm... that I--" She grunted angrily at herself and I quickly slipped out of the bathroom.

It took all of my strength to force myself not to cry. Was Sam planning to break up with me? Is that what this trip was all about? My mind was racing, filled with images from the past few weeks. Sam's reluctance to return my 'I love you' were the most prominent example that things may be on a downhill curve. I walked to the bed without consciously moving, lowering myself to the mattress and staring at the bare wall across from me. I swept my top lip with my tongue, then felt the pressure building against the dams in my eyes.

When Sam exited the shower, smiling and humming no less, she froze at the image she was confronted with. She rushed to my side, kneeling in front of me and cupping my face in her hands. "Janet? Baby, what is it? Are you hurt? What happened?"

I sobbed, reaching out and running my fingers through her hair. Between sobs, I managed to squeak out. "Are... are you going to break up with me?"

Sam's eyes widened, her jaw dropping. I couldn't tell if the shock was from the bluntness of the question or the fact that I had found her out. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close, allowing me to cry into her freshly shampooed hair. "Janet, what... what would *ever* make you think that I wanted to break up with you?" She clung to me, her powerful hands pressing my body to hers. I whimpered as she continued, "I can't imagine... Why would you think that?"

I sat up, facing her with tears in my eyes. "I went into the bathroom," I admited. "I heard you-you talking about something that was hard for you to say... About these past few weeks being wonderful. What-what were you talking about if not breaking up?"

"Janet," she said, her voice nearly inaudible in the room. She reached up, lightly touching my neck where my pulse was throbbing. I felt her fingertips slid up, touching my jawline and she repeated, "Janet." I sniffled, a fresh tear dropping down my cheek and alighting on her index finger. She ignored it. Moving slowly, she straightened and pulled slightly away from me, our eyes level. She slid her hand around to cup the back of my head, pulling me to her and parting her lips. Our mouths melted together in a frenzied kiss, our tongues eagerly jousting one another. When we finally separated - for oxygen and nothing else - Sam panted, "There is something I need to tell you, but I can't tell you now. I've been planning on telling you tonight." She brushed my bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, watching as I blinked back another tear. "It's nothing bad, I-- just need to wait."

I nodded, then said, "You're not breaking up with me?"

She laughed and said, "No, honey. I don't see single-woman-dom on my horizon." She raised an eyebrow and said, "When is room service comi--" Her answer arrived before she could finish asking; a knock on the door stopped her from finishing her query. She stood, carefully wrapping my nude body in the blanket before calling, "Coming!" She was still wrapped in a towel, but she found a robe and pulled it on before answering the door. I had left the money on the desk, so she snatched it up and allowed the young waiter in.

He rolled a cart into the room, placing it near the bed, then accepted his money from Sam. I could tell he had looked at the obviously nude woman on the bed and the practically nude woman answering the door and put two and two together. He smiled as he left, no doubt heading downstairs to the kitchen to reveal who had reserved Room 4-B. I walked to the cart and picked up Sam's wrapped deli sandwich, carrying it to her. She accepted the food, then accepted my tongue as we kissed. Her hand lingered on my shoulder, caressing it through the blanket I was still wrapped in.

She looked up at me, nipping playfully at my bottom lip when we pulled apart. "This sandwich," she asked, holding it up. "Will it hold for another half-hour?"

The blanket and robe collided in mid-air as we shed them, rushing towards the bed. Sam kissed away my tears before she did anything else to my body... her tongue gathering the salty residue of my sadness and banishing it. The simplicity of her gesture almost made me cry once again.

---

Jack O'Neill slapped angrily at his bare calf, examining the carcass of the mosquito before flicking it towards the still waters. "This," he grumbled, "is a helluva vacation, Daniel." He reclined again, propping his feet up and tilting his baseball cap so that the sun didn't get into his eyes.

"I thought you loved fishing," the archaeologist countered. His pole was jerking slightly as he attempted to reel in a fighting fish.

The colonel sighed. "I do love fishing! I hate catching fish," he motioned at the fishing pole that was trying to escape Daniel's grasp. "I get enough of a struggle out of trying to get you to follow orders." He scanned the waters. "I love lakes with no fish in them to bother me. It gives me a feeling of doing something without actually having to follow-through on anything."

Daniel apologized, shaking his head. There was no pleasing the man. The silence they had been enjoying was suddenly shattered by a loud chirping coming from Daniel's tackle box. The two men exchanged glances; Jack had been thoroughly pissed when he found the cell phone, but now seemed to welcome the distraction. He moved to the bag and pulled it open, searching for the phone and answering the call. "O'Neill," he said, sitting on his haunches as he spoke.

"Colonel, thank God," came a quick, female voice. Jack recognized it as Abigail Tierney, the woman watching Cassandra that weekend. He had met the woman a few hours earlier, dropping off Cassie's dog at the house. He stood and tapped Daniel on the shoulder.

"Hey, Abigail," he said. "What's up?"

There was a pause, and then Abigail said, "There's been an accident."

Fishing was over.

---

As promised, we spent most of the day in bed. We eventually decided to give each other a rest and ordered a movie from the service provided. Sam tried to convince me to buy one of the adult movies, but I resisted. The last thing I needed this weekend was something else to turn me on. I found a comedy that neither of us had seen and chose it, setting the remote on the nightstand and curling up with my lover. It was only Saturday afternoon, but it was already shaping up to be one of the best weekends of my life. I stroked Sam's hair as we watched the movie, both of us naked under the blanket. She had rubbed some lotion onto her hands and I could smell the raspberry scent wafting up from her hands and from the open bottle that remained on the nightstand.

The movie credits began to roll and I checked the clock, noting that we could've stayed home and watched movies there without paying for a hotel room. "Yes," Sam admitted, "but this way we don't have to worry about Cassie barging in on us or Colonel O'Neill calling with an emergency or any of that other stuff that can find us at home." She kissed my throat. "Here, you're all mine." Her lips trailed to my collarbone and she said, "That's worth the price of any hotel room. Hell, I'll buy a house up here just to have a little getaway spot."

I smiled and said, "Okay, but you bring up two very interesting points." She sat up, her attention fully on what I was saying. "How... secret will this relationship be?"

"Well, it has to be pretty damn secret."

"Yes," I admitted, nodding my head. "But we have to tell *some* people. Like Cassandra. How are we going to tell her about this? Eventually, she's going to notice that you're sleeping in my room every night." I took her hand. "And what about Colonel O'Neill?"

"No," her eyes widened as she shook her head. "No, I don't think we can tell him. He's pretty open-minded, but I think in the end he'd have to follow the regulations. Not to sound narcissistic, but he's had a not-so-secret crush on me since we met. The only thing keeping him from following through on his feelings are--"

I nodded and finished with her, "--regulations."

"Right," she sighed. "So, for right now, no one on the team. But we *do* have to tell Cassandra. Any ideas on how to break the news?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe it could be like with any relationship. Her people may not have cared about this sort of thing. Did SG-7 mention anything about same-sex couples during their stay on Hanka?"

"No," I shook my head, not really recalling much of the mission report. "But there's the chance that they have strict rules against it. Hell, for all we know, they could have the same view of the Mormons." I shook my head. "Or the Christians or the Catholics or... it's impossible to gauge without actually asking her."

Sam rested her head on my stomach. "Maybe I can look up some of SG-7's old reports. Didn't Cassie tell us once that children were raised by the entire community?"

"Yes," I recalled. "Yeah, I think she did. So, it may not be that weird for her to adjust to having two mommies."

She sat up. "Of course, we'd have to tell her to keep that part secret."

I closed my eyes. "Secret... like everything else in her life. That poor little girl."

Sam pressed her elbow gently against my side. "Hey, she has two parents like us. She's not so poor." Curling up once more against me, Sam traced a line across my abdomen, stopping to play with my belly button. "So, we're decided. This little... sleeping arrangement will be our secret for just a little while longer... just until we're able to learn more about Cassie's society. We can try to disguise it as a kind of social history lesson, tell her we're simply interested in their kind of government and whatnot. Just slip the idea of sexual orientation in there." She looked up at me, then began searching for a clock. "What time is it, anyway?"

I looked at the clock. "Half past five." Sam gasped, muttering a profanity as she shot up, surprising me as she threw the blankets away and jumped out of bed. She frantically began looking for her clothes, pulling her tight jeans on once she found them. I sat up, confused. "What's going on? What's the big emergency?"

She buttoned her shirt incorrectly as she answered, "The bags! I left them in the car and we have to start getting ready for tonight!"

I climbed out of bed, well-aware of the stink coming off of my body. All day in bed making love, combined with no shower the day before led to a positively anti-social odor. I told her I'd hop in the shower while she got the luggage and she agreed, running out the door. I used Sam's strawberry shampoo, inhaling the scent before I began applying it. I loved the smell of Sam's hair right after a shower; it made me glad to know I would soon be sharing that scent... for one more night, at least. I worked the sweet-smelling shampoo into my hair, pushing aside the sense of dread concerning what Sam was planning to tell me. She promised it was a good thing, but in my experience no good news had ever been preceded by "These past few weeks have been wonderful..."

Once I shut off the hair dryer, I could hear the voices carrying in from the other room. I brushed my teeth, listening to Sam say, "Yeah, just right there is fine. Thank you." Someone left the room, but I made sure to be completely covered by a hotel robe when I exited. All of our bags dotted the floor and bed, the largest one standing open on the bed. Sam heard the door open behind her and turned, smiling at me. "Hey, baby. C'mere."

I looked around, making sure we were alone. "Who was in here?" I asked, walking towards her.

She turned, holding the package I had spotted on the trip up. The ribbon was a little askew and she quickly adjusted it. She was breathing heavily, then realized I had asked her a question. "Oh. Uh, bellboy or whatever. Open it!" She was smiling like a lunatic, her blue eyes wide and sparkling. She licked her lips as I took the package, untying the ribbon and dropping it to the floor. The box was wrapped with a single sheet of pearl-white paper, so I simply peeled up one corner and slipped out a rather large jewelry box. I glanced at Sam, then flipped open the top.

"Oh, my God. Samantha," I couldn't help using her full name. I was otherwise speechless. The center of the box held two pear-shaped sapphire earrings. Atop the sapphire gem, a diamond was encased in silver. The earrings were extraordinarily beautiful, sparkling in my shaking hand as I held them up to the light. Draped around the earrings was a silver necklace, the bottom of which was a oval-shaped sapphire. This gem was topped by a square of diamonds, each of them sparkling with their own intensity. I touched the glittering jewelry, then looked at Sam. "Why-- how..."

Sam blinked, then self-consciously asked, "Do you like them?"

I laughed at the absurdity of the question, then said, "I love them, Sam. They're..." I looked down at the gift once more, "they're beautiful. How did you afford this?"

"A gift," she said, pointing a finger at me. "You're not allowed to ask how much a gift costs."

Something didn't sit right with that answer. "Sam? How did you afford this?"

"It doesn't matter," she assured me, pulling the necklace from the box and walking around me. She draped the gem over my throat and worked to fasten it in the back. I complied, holding my hair up to keep it out of her way. I bit my lip. The earrings alone had to cost over a thousand dollars.

I turned to her. "Sam, we're both captains; we earn the same amount. How did you afford something this extravagant?"

She touched my ears as if wondering how the earrings would look there. Finally, she looked me in the eyes and said, "You'll get mad." Uh-oh. I kept my lips in a firm line and watched her until she broke. "You'll..." she sighed. "You'll get mad and the evening will be ruined and I worked too hard for the evening to be ruined now. Just accept them."

I plucked the earrings from the box and moved away from Sam, placing the box on the nightstand and peering into the mirror to find the piercing in my earlobe. "I'll make you a deal," I said. "You tell me how you afforded this, I won't make it an issue until we get home."

She sighed. One earring was in place. As I was placing the second one in, she said, "I sold my bike." I turned, my eyes wide and my jaw succumbing to gravity. There were no words. I walked across the room, standing right in front of her with my mouth agape. I couldn't-- I wanted-- She had-- The only thing rushing through my mind at that moment was rage and confusion. She *sold* her *motorcycle*? She looked sheepishly at me and said, "I told you you'd get mad."

"Damn right!" I said. "You love that bike and you sold it?!" My voice softened when I added, "You sold it for me?"

Sam grabbed my hands and said, "I sold it. For you. I didn't... plan on it, I didn't like it, but I did it. And I used the money to buy you something you obviously love." She touched the sapphire necklace before continuing. "A few days ago, you collapsed because you thought something had happened to Cass. You were unconscious for ten minutes, they told me. I... You were so scared for us for so long, you couldn't handle it all." She brushed my cheek with her fingers. "And I'm running off to alien worlds to play Cowboys and Indians with a bad-ass alien race *and* riding my bike with no helmet sometimes..." She blinked back tears. "I couldn't stop going through the 'Gate, but I could do something about the bike. I sold it to Siler; he said I could still ride it if I felt nostalgic or whatever... but I sold it. I can drive a car and if it'll make you stop worrying even a little bit... then it's worth it."

If I thought I was speechless before, I couldn't begin to follow-up on that. Instead of speaking, I pulled Sam's face down and kissed her passionately. I had never been in love with anyone like this before; I had never been loved like this before. I wanted desperately to tell her I loved her, but remembered her awkward behavior to other times. I sniffed and pulled back, brushing the tears from her cheeks with my thumb. "Whaddaya say we finish getting ready for whatever we're getting ready for?"

She grinned, wiping her eyes. "Agreed."

Chapter Six

My first thought was that I had nothing fancy enough to wear with the earrings and necklace. Sam apparently read my mind and picked up a garment bag, pulling down the zipper and stepping back. "I also had enough to buy this." I moved forward and spread the two halves of the bag and gasped. Inside was a silk dress with a V-neck that I was certain would reveal too much of my body to anyone who looked. I plucked the dress from the bag and held it up, pressing it against myself. It looked like it was a perfect fit and the material felt heavenly against my flesh. The material had charcoal-colored roses on it, barely visible unless someone were to look extremely close. "Sam...," I whispered.

She stepped up behind me and said, "Put it on. I want to see what you look like in it."

I stripped off the robe, tossing it at the wall, and immediately lowered the dress. I stepped into it and pulled it up my body, hooking the wide straps on each shoulder. I adjusted myself inside of the dress, then walked to the bathroom to examine myself in the mirror. The material seemed a bit baggy, but I spotted a zipper under my left arm and tugged it up. The material cinched around my abdomen and bosom, but the open neck revealed almost all of my cleavage. I stepped back and said, "Um... Sam?" She joined me in the bathroom, eyeing the outfit. "Some movie stars at the Academy Awards could get away with this, but I think modesty would be prudent for me."

She chuckled and said, "The woman at the store showed me this." She fingered the bottom of the V-neck, reaching inside and pulling out two little eyelets. She hooked two or three until my cleavage was at a modest level, but still seductive. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks, honey." I kissed her softly and then said, "You didn't have to buy me all of this stuff."

She grinned. "But I did. I'm gonna get dressed now, 'kay?"

I nodded and she disappeared into the bedroom. I had brought my underwear and pantyhose into the bathroom with me, so I sat on the toilet and tugged my panties on. With this dress, I could do without the bra. I slipped the pantyhose up my legs and examined myself in the mirror. I decided to wear my hair down for this special night, allowing the almost too-long strands to rest on my shoulders. My bangs reached almost to my eyebrows. I smiled at myself and began to apply make-up.

I was finally ready to go. My lips were painted crimson and my eyes a subtle shade of violet. I stepped back, making sure that my new dress flattered my ass, and stepped outside.

Sam was breathtaking. She was standing in front of the closet mirror, applying her own make-up. Her military-length hair was curled, framing her face beautifully like a sea of sunshine. She was wearing a royal blue dress that complimented her eyes, a cut running from the knee-length hem to her mid-thigh. When she turned, I could see that it was almost as low-cut as mine had been. She adjusted herself, making it a little more decent, then walked to me. "Hey, sweetheart. You look great!"

Raising my eyebrows, I looked her up and down and said, "You're not so bad yourself... when do we have to go to this thing?"

She looked at her watch - also new... I wondered how much Siler had paid for her bike - and said, "Ooh. Right now. Are you ready?" I nodded and she extended her elbow, allowing me to hook my arm through it. She picked up a hand bag and escorted me to the hallway. The elevator took an amazingly long time and, during the wait, Sam leaned over and whispered, "I hope you like tonight..."

I pecked the side of her mouth. "I already love it, Sam. And whatever we'll doing... I'll make sure I'm not too tired when we get back."

She shivered in anticipation and the doors slid apart. We entered and, as the doors closed, the speakers began to play a soft version of "Something," by the Beatles. It was the same thing we had heard the last time we were in the elevator here. I grinned and said, "Maybe it's a sign."

"Or maybe that's the only song they play here."

I chuckled. "That's possible."

---

After leaving the hotel, we walked down the streets of Boulder with our arms linked. There was a rumbling in the distance, but I assumed that whatever storm was passing would simply die out over the Rockies. In the dim light that remained from the day, the massive mountains looked truly magnificent. The only thing more beautiful was Sam; not even the Rockies could contend with her beauty. We passed the famous Downtown Boulder Mall, a section of town closed to traffic, paved with bricks and opened for business. I eyed several coffee shops and clothing depots and wondered if we would have time to stop before heading back to the hotel for the night.

Finally, we arrived at our destination. The building looked like a movie version of an old-time theatre, the outside of it designed to look incredibly retro. Signs proclaimed it to be the Boulder Theatre and the marquee read: "Friday - Sunday, the Flatiron Players present 'Man of LaMancha'!" That was followed by details of showtimes. Sam rubbed my arm and said, "Have you ever seen it?"

"What is it?" I asked, recognizing the name but unsure of from where.

"Don Quixote. The Man of LaMancha."

My eyes widened and I tightened my grip on her arm. "'The Impossible Dream'?" I asked, naming one of the songs I recalled from the play.

"Yeah, I think that's one. You wanna stay?"

"Oh, yes!" I said. She escorted me into the theatre, leading me to the balcony seats. I held her hand tightly, taking a moment to examine the surroundings. The speakers were pumping lighthearted and boisterous music through the balcony, the overture of the play had already begun. I gazed at the stage as Sam escorted me to our seats. It was set up like a medieval castle; high stone walls with only thin windows near the top of the stage. Center stage held a tall wooden staircase leading to a heavy wooden door. Benches and bales of hay marked the stage as props and areas for the extras to sit. Bags of props were partially hidden by the hay.

I sat next to Sam, noting that the balcony was practically abandoned. Only three other couples were seated there, and we were all pretty-well separated. I smiled at Sam, laying my hand on top of hers. The overture reached it's cresendo - the final bars of "The Impossible Dream" - and actors began to roam onto the stage. I had to give them credit; they lacked the appearance of finely trained actors and appeared as if they were arriving to pay penance for some crime. Two of the extras in the back got into an improvised fight over a hay bale.

The theatre lights lowered and the stage lights came up. I clutched Sam's hand as the play began.

---

The story of the play was extremely interesting. The author of "Don Quixote" was imprisoned with a manuscript of his tale. He entertained the other prisoners by acting out the story of the windmill-chasing knight. He dressed in costumes to portray his character, the Man of LaMancha, and enlisted the other prisoners to assist him. I was enraptured not only by the beautiful acting and the story, but the music was operatic and beautiful. I found myself near tears at the end when Don Quixote was badly injured in a battle and Dulcinea (the erstwhile Aldonza) was attempting to revive him using his own beautiful words.

When the final note sounded and the curtain dropped, I was on my feet in an instant. My hands were pounding together so hard I barely noticed no one else had joined my ovation. When the applause died down, I noticed that no one else had joined me and I shyly returned to my seat, taking Sam's hand and ducking my head. She chuckled and kissed the corner of my eye. The applause carried once more when the actors stepped out for curtain call.

The lights came back up and Sam stood, escorting me to the stairs. "I take it you enjoyed the play?"

"It was all right," I said, shrugging my shoulders. I touched her stomach with my hand and said, "Thank you for tonight."

We pressed against each other as we ventured out into the cold night. "It was my pleasure," she said. "Do you want to grab a bite to eat before we head back to the hotel?"

I nodded and we headed for the paved paths of the Boulder Mall. As we walked, our high heels making click-clack sounds on the brick, I felt something cold and wet land on my shoulder. "Uh-oh," I whispered, looking up at the sky. "We may have--" My weather report was interrupted by a sudden downpour. Several other people were as caught by surprise as we were and rushed to hide in the few stores that remained open. Sam and I chose a small yogurt shop and lowered ourselves into a cozy booth. From our position, we could see through the wide-open door of the restaurant and to the rain-assaulted Mall. The smell of ozone was heavy in the restaurant and, now that I wasn't getting drenched, I took a moment to enjoy it.

Closing my eyes and inhaling, I sighed, "I love the smell of rain..."

I felt Sam's hand on mine and she whispered, "Tell me about it."

Opening one eye just slightly, I saw she was serious and cleared my throat. "I remember back in Oklahoma, after it would rain and the sun would come out... I'd run out into the front yard and it would still smell so good. The mud would seep between my toes and I'd get yelled at when I finally went back inside, but... Sometimes, the raindrops would cling to branches and they would drip down after the rainstorm passed. It was like a little private rain storm just for me." I smiled. "My mom always told me I'd catch pneumonia running around in all that rain, but it would've been a small price to pay."

I opened my eyes again and saw Sam smiling. I was about to ask her how she felt about the rain when I remembered the incident with the shower that morning. My eyes sparkled as I asked, "You wanted to tell me something tonight."

Her eyes widened and she sat back. "That's right," she said. Her breathing seemed rapid; her lips apparently dry as she began sweeping her tongue across the top lip and then pressing them together. "Wow. All that practice and I can't remember a word I prepared."

I touched her hand, leaning across the table. "Just... tell me. Please?"

She sighed, her breath shaky. "Okay." She rearranged herself on the seat and wrapped my hands in her own. "I've been in a lot of relationships before. Never with a woman, but... relationships all the same. And during the course of those relationships, I've always said those-those three little words that are so easy to say but hard to feel." Her eyes darted up to meet mine to determine if I understood. I did. "I admit to saying it before I felt I was ready in the past. I've said it to people without really feeling it, and I've said it to people I thought I felt it for... But they're just three stupid words that anyone can say. It doesn't matter if you just say them." She took a deep breath. "I wanted to have a special time to say the words to you. I wanted to be absolutely certain I felt it with every fiber of my being before I commited to those words. I would've said it the first time we slept together, but I... I didn't.

"There were times when you said them and... I wanted desperately to reciprocate. But I didn't want the first time to be a response. It would feel... I don't know, cheaper that way. So I set this up; the play, the jewelry, the dress, the vacation... all because I wanted to end the night by telling you for the first time that I... I love you."

The world outside - not just Boulder, but all of Earth - fell away from us at that moment. My toes were tingling inside my shoes. I blinked at her for a few seconds, watching her shy gaze scan the restaurant before returning to me. I swallowed, my lips moving to respond, but I couldn't find any words. The only thing I managed was a weak sob. Sam rose from her seat, kneeling next to my bench seat and embracing me. I cried silently on her shoulder for a few minutes, then whispered, "I love you, too."

Her fingers trailed through my hair and I heard her chuckle. We held each other for a few minutes and she finally released me, gazing into my eyes. I traced her eyebrow with my index finger and suggested, "Let's go back to the hotel."

"It's still raining," she breathed.

"Then we'll get wet." I took her hand and led her out of the yogurt shop and into the pouring rain. We were both drenched in seconds, but neither of us seemed to notice.

---

The elevator ride was silent. No Muzak played over our heads, "Something" or otherwise. I swallowed sharply, every cell in my body gravitating towards Sam. When the doors finally parted, we dashed into the hallway, our heels held in our hands as we raced to the door of our hotel room. The key magically appeared between Sam's pinched forefinger and thumb, the portal swinging open with none of the fumbling from the previous night. I was grateful for the saved time and unceremoniously shoved Sam inside. I followed quickly, slamming the door behind myself. I took an extra moment to open the door once more and affix the "Do Not Disturb" sign to the knob.

Finally locked away, I turned and breathlessly faced my lover. She was as breathless as I was. Every detail of her face was forever etched in my memory, the dim light inconsequential. Her eyes were wide, the blue irises barely visible around the pupil. The tip of her tongue popped out and she dabbed her top lip with it before sweeping across it's length. I fell forward, collapsing in Sam's arms and pressing my mouth against hers. Our teeth clacked painfully as we tried to force a passionate kiss. I grinned and stepped back as Sam touched her mouth. "Ow," she whispered.

Tenderly, I touched her chin and leaned in to kiss her again. This time, I made sure that my tongue did all the talking. I kept my eyes opened, surprised to see Sam doing the same. We watched each other throughout the kiss, then broke apart. We both took a step back, as if surprised by the sensations we were feeling. My mind flashed back to inexperienced fondling in the backseat of my father's Pacer, breath fogging the windows as Jeremy Todd took my virginity after the junior prom.

Sam and I were suddenly virginal again; our bodies inexperienced to the pleasure that awaited us in this room, in this bed. Every touch would be electric, every breath forced. Sam was my one, my only. We stood, watching each other as if trying to dare the other into speaking first. I lost. "Teddy..."

Interpreting my single utterance, Sam walked directly to a small garment bag and extended it to me. I held the bag close to my chest and looked down at it. Sam hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes once more. She breathed, "Don't keep me waiting, sweetheart."

My heart skipped a beat. I hurried into the bathroom and began stripping out of my new dress. I popped one of the eyelets, but tossed the velvet dress aside. My panties were dropped and kicked behind the toilet. I unzipped the garment bag and withdrew my infamous blue teddy. It had been worn once, but that had precipitated a fight rather than sex. Michael wanted to know how much I had spent on the lingerie and then told me that I should've 'gotten something that made my boobs look nicer.' Fuck him, I thought, rolling my pantyhose down my legs.

I hurriedly worked my way into the fancy underwear. The straps were hardly more than strings and my breasts were pushed up and apart. There was a small bow that rested between my breasts and I tied that, forcing the mounds on my chest together. I tested their firmness, pleased with the result. That done, I found the thigh-high nylons that went with the ensemble and worked them up my legs. I cursed the extra few pounds I'd added since first purchasing this outfit, then stood and examined myself.

The lingerie bulged in some places that it shouldn't have, but otherwise I was drop-dead gorgeous, if I did say so myself. I smiled and walked to the door, placing my hand on the knob before throwing it open. I stepped into the bedroom, allowing the lights from the vanity mirror in the bathroom to wash over me. Turns out, it was unnecessary.

Sam had been busy while I was changing. Candles had spontaneously appeared on most every flat surface in the room and she was quickly moving from wick to wick with a red Aim-A-Flame. She stopped at the sound of the door opening and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she saw me. She turned her entire body around, allowing the hand holding the lighter to go limp, the red lighter dropping to the carpet with a quiet thud. I swallowed loudly, then tried to strike a suggestive pose. "D-do you like it?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious of the few extra pounds I had put on.

She didn't answer. Instead, she moved across the room in as if sleepwalking, her eyes continually raking up and down my petite form. Her hands moved to the zipper of her dress, struggling to pull it down. When we were inches apart, she turned and huskily whispered, "Unzip me."

I complied, my hand shaking as I exposed the pale flesh of her bare back. I leaned in and kissed the soft skin between her shoulder blades as I slid the straps of her dress down. She allowed me to drop the material to the floor and stepped out of it, Her head turning so she could see me. My lips traveled from her back to her throat, allowing my tongue to taste her neck before I closed in on the spot just behind her right earlobe. She gasped as my tongue tangoed over the oft-neglected area. She was still wearing panties, so I moved my hand around her waist to tease her through the material. She was dripping and gasped when I touched her, her eyes opening a fraction of a centimeter as I began to massage her through her underwear. "I asked... if you liked my outfit." I repeated.

She hissed, "Yes, Janet."

I cupped her breast with my free hand, keeping the other one firmly between her legs as I walked her towards the bed. I released her just long enough for her to turn and fall onto the mattress, her blue eyes flying open and locking onto me. I mounted the bed, planting one knee on the outside of her thighs as I slowly crawled up her still form. I lowered haunches onto her thighs, then came up with a plan. I searched the nightstand and found what I was searching for; a small, pink bottle labeled Strawberry Hand Lotion. I grabbed it and lifted myself off of her thighs. "Roll over," I instructed.

She complied readily, lowering herself to the mattress and resting her head on her hands. I squirted the lotion onto her back in a zig-zag pattern, allowing myself to be artistic before I began to massage her. Finally satisfied that I had enough lotion to cover all of SG-1 and have enough left over for General Hammond, I dropped the bottle and began to rub my lover's shoulders. She gasped as my expert fingers found knots of tension and tired muscles she hadn't known existed. I worked the lotion deep into her pores, causing her gasps to become moans.

My hands sufficiently moistened by the lotion, I slid my hands between her chest and the mattress, squeezing her full, rounded breasts. She raised up, turning her head and parting her lips. I kissed her cheek, skimming across the warm flesh until I reached the perimeter of her mouth. She extended her tongue, invading my mouth. I grabbed her hips and twisted her slowly until she was once again on her back.

I rose up, breaking the kiss. Sam sat up with me, scooting across the mattress until we were both sitting across from each other. She squirmed on the blankets, moving until she was sitting on her knees and once again taller than me. She placed her hands on the back of my neck, slowly sliding up into my hair and fingering the strands as she moved towards my scalp. The caress wasn't exactly a massage, but my eyes closed in response anyway. When she slipped free of my hair, her fingers danced lightly down my face, like a blind woman attempting to map the planes of a stranger's visage. She touched the vertical cleft between my upper lip and nose, then whispered, "What is this called?"

My mind was a blank. "Uh... um, the nasal sept-septum," I finally stuttered.

"I love your nasal septum, Janet," she hummed. I smiled and she took the opportunity to trace my lips. Her hands separated and flattened against each of my cheeks, then slid over my throat to rest on my upper chest. Her voice as quiet as the rain outside, she asked, "May I undress you?"

My heart jumped. Somehow, the simple request seemed like the most intimate thing I had ever heard. "Yes, Sam," I replied. "Please." My voice quaked when I spoke. I opened my eyes and looked at her, watching her blue eyes move to my cleavage. She swallowed, her throat pulsing slowly as she reached forward and fingered the small bow. "That's it," I informed her. "Pull it."

She complied. The bow came loose and my breasts seemed to collapse within the lacy material. She raised her hands, tenderly hooking one finger under each shoulder strap of my teddy and easing them down my arms. Her fingers brushed the cool flesh of my arms, exciting the gooseflesh already there. My breasts popped out of the tight outfit, seeming to breath a sigh of relief. I smiled at that as Sam gently pushed me onto my back. I lifted my hips, enabling her to work the teddy completely off my body. Tossing the teddy away with one hand, she extended the other to me and helped me back into a sitting position.

Her eyes held complete dominance over my body and soul. The deep, blue eyes seemed to anchor me safely in the real world while allowing me to set sail into unimaginable worlds of pleasure. I had never seen eyes like hers... never. I leaned forward and, as if she knew exactly what I had been thinking, her eyelids lowered. I kissed each one, finishing with a lingering kiss in the center of her forehead.

At this point, I was on my knees while Sam was sitting flat on her ass. I pulled back, noticing how much taller than her I appeared to be. She looked up at me, her mouth level with my breasts. Her right hand came up, sliding across the right side of my left breast. Her left hand followed suit on the left side. She lowered her head, taking my excited nipple between her firm lips and gentle suckling. I moaned low in my throat, arching my back to invite her to have all she wanted. She nursed at my breast like a hungry infant, her lips parting and smacking as her teeth and tongue took turns assaulting my nipple. Every few minutes, she would switch breasts until the tips were sore.

I gently pried her away from my chest and used my body weight to toss her onto the mattress. I straddled her, pressing my slight weight against her and pinning her down. I cupped her face and implored, "Say it again, Sam."

"I love you," she breathed. "I love you."

A fresh tear rolled down my cheek. "I love you, too, Sam... I love you." I lowered my lips to hers for a fresh assault.

---

My tears dried before Sam reached her climax.

Sam reached her climax before she coaxed me to orgasm.

My orgasm arrived with such fury that I screamed mere minutes before dawn.

Dawn heralded a fresh wave of lovemaking between us, our bodies moving in sync with each other like well-oiled machines. The sheets were filthy below us, our bodies stinking of sweat and the juices from our exertions. We panted like animals towards the end, our hair sticking out in all directions and our teeth gritted in determination. We fought each other, clawed at each other, left hickeys on hidden parts of anatomy and we each finally screamed out our companion's name as our final orgasms crested. They arrived nearly simultaneously.

In the aftermath of our all-night marathon, Sam and I stared up at the ceiling with mutually glazed eyes. My legs were tangled with hers on the bare mattress; the blankets and sheets lost to the throes of our coupling sometime during the night. Neither of us had bothered to cover our nudity with the discarded sheets or blankets. There was no need. What had transpired between us had transformed from a need to touch, to a need to feel, to a primal urge to copulate. We had ravaged each other, allowed our civilized exteriors to collapse and sacrificed our bodies to the ancient urge to have sex. I had never - *never* - let myself expose that prehistoric side of myself to see the light of day and had never before known it existed.

Sam and I locked eyes a few minutes later and I smiled. She returned the expression, baring her teeth and pressing her tongue against them. "That--," she whispered.

"--was the best sex I ever had," I finished with her. That said, we both allowed our heads to roll once more across the mattress and again focused on the pattern in the ceiling.

Chapter Seven

That morning, after a breakfast of waffles and scrambled eggs (over easy for Sam), we reluctantly packed our bags and bid farewell to our weekend love nest. I glanced at the bed, the rumpled sheets that the maid would take care off and the haphazardly discarded pillows that rested against the headboard. I sighed and walked to Sam, resting my head on her shoulder. "We have to come back here. Soon."

She kissed my forehead and smiled. "It'll be our place," she promised. "We can come up here every now and again, see a play or a movie, then make love until it's time to go home."

I grinned. "Sounds like the makings of a wonderful tradition, Sam."

We checked out quickly, the clerk wishing us a safe trip, and headed out to the car. Sam loaded all the bags into the trunk, then opened the back door. "Hon, you have to work the late shift tonight, right?

"I might," I nodded, wondering why she would bring it up now. "Why?"

She indicated the back seat. "Get in... you can sleep all the way home." She grinned. "I'll try not to wake you up."

I quickly scanned the parking lot to make sure we were alone, then rose on my tiptoes to kiss the tip of her nose. She angled her face so that my my target was now her lips. We kissed slowly, my lips curling into a smile, then broke apart. I stroked her cheek and said, "I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too." With a sigh, she added, "Now that I've said it once, I'm going to be saying it a lot more." She kissed my cheek and said, "Now, get into the back seat, lover."

I obediently sat, allowing her to close the door on me. I stripped out of my jacket and balled it up, laying it against the door as a pillow. As I was reclining, I saw Sam's leather jacket being held over the back of the seat, I took it from her and thanked her. Her blue eyes sparkled in the rear view mirror and said, "Will you dream about me?"

"Always."

By the time we were out of Boulder, I was unconscious.

---

"Damn it, Janet..."

I frowned, allowing one of my eyes to slowly open. The curse had been slightly more than a whisper and seemed melodic; not a standard, angry remark but a lilting tone. I didn't sit up, but scanned the interior of the car. I couldn't tell where we were from my position. Sam drummed her fingers on the wheel for a moment, then bobbed her head up and down. "Damn it, Janet," she repeated, her voice a little quieter. She wasn't cursing... she was *singing.*

She continued, "The road was long but I ran it, Janet... There's a fire in my heart and you fan it, Janet... If there's one fool for you then I am it, Janet... Now I've one thing to say and that's damn it, Janet, I love you..."

I smiled, working my head deeper into the coat pillow I had fashioned for myself. She continued with the song, her slightly worse than amateur voice lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

---

I sat up, well-rested but blurry-eyed, a few minutes before we hit Colorado Springs. I scooted to the center of the back seat and leaned forward, resting my hand on Sam's shoulder. She looked up, meeting my eyes in the rear view. "Hey, sweety. Have a nice sleep?"

"Wonderful," I said, resting my cheek against the passenger seat's head rest. I yawned quietly, then stared at the road ahead. "We're almost home, huh?"

She nodded. "Yup."

I sighed. "Ugh, work. Ugh, responsibility." I stuck my tongue out and said, "Turn around... there are probably a few empty suites left at the Boulderado." I clutched her shoulder. "Please, honey. Don't make me be responsible!"

She pulled out of my grip easily enough, chuckling softly. I pulled myself up and quickly stepped between the seats. I heard Sam protest, but dropped into my seat before she could stop me. As I buckled my seatbelt, she turned and scanned the highway behind her for evidence of patrol cars. "That was risky, Janet... what if there had been a cop behind me?"

"Then we would've had to show some skin to get him to let us go with a warning."

Eyebrow raised, Sam said, "Okay... but what if it was a woman cop?"

I wiggled my eyebrows and flicked an imaginary cigar, doing an awful impression of Groucho. "Then we woulda shown her more than skin, sweetheart!"

Sam laughed, covering her mouth. When she recovered, she said, "That is the worse Groucho I've ever heard."

Shrugging, I said, "It's better than your singing."

I had never seen anything go from lightly tanned to deep crimson red faster than Sam Carter's face at that moment.

---

Sam dumped her bags in the entryway and whimpered, faking tears. "I don't wanna be home." I pressed myself against her back, gently nibbling on her earlobe before scooting past her into the house. She picked up her bags and followed me upstairs, depositing the suitcases on the bed. She pointed at the mattress and said, "You see this? If you mess up the sheets, you have to fix it. No maid here."

I nodded. "That's why the bed is seldom made."

As she began to unpack, I went downstairs to check the world we had left behind. The mail was stacked on the coffee table, except for yesterday's; those letters were still laying on the floor next to the mail slot. I frowned, wondering why Abigail or Cassie hadn't picked it up yet. I sorted through the mail, throwing out the garbage and keeping what we needed to save, then went to the phone. The red indicator lights flashed: 13 NEW. I blinked in surprise, wondering if I had cleared the machine before we left. Certainly no one would've called that many times while we were gone; everyone who regularly called us knew that we were incommunicado... I hit the play button and lowered myself to the sofa as I listened to Abigail Tierney's voice on the tape.

"Janet? Oh, damn... uh... um..." Click. I swallowed hard. Something was wrong.

Call Two. Colonel O'Neill's voice now. "Doc, Mrs. Tierney wanted me to try to get hold of you guys. I don't have your cell, but maybe you got one of those call-forward thingies. Ahh..."

Daniel this time. "Janet? Sam?" Click.

I was beginning to question the wisdom of not taking our cell phones to Boulder with us. I walked into the kitchen, letting the answering machine beep and click on it's own for a moment. My cell phone was resting on the kitchen counter. Four missed calls. Damn it! I retrieved the first one. Daniel again. "Janet, please call us. We're... we're kind of lost here."

Dropping the phone, I headed for the stairs to get Sam. My heart was pounding and I could feel sweat under my blouse. The rest I had gotten on the ride home was now rendered useless; I was wide awake and running on pure adrenaline. As I passed through the living room, I heard Abigail's voice on the machine: "...n't know what to do. Cassie is in really bad shape. Please, call us back as soon as you get this message."

I practically flew up the stairs, my eyes wide when I saw Sam standing at the foot of the bed. I opened my mouth to inform her of what happened, but all that I managed was a strangled sob. Sam took a step toward me and I collapsed into her arms, the tears flowing freely. I clung to her. "Sa-Sam... It's Cassandra. Something happened to her."

Before I knew what was happening, I was off my feet. Sam cradled me to her breast and carried me to the bed, gently laying me on top of the covers. She brushed the hair from my face and whispered, "I'll take care of this. Rest, Janet... Everything is going to be fine." She turned and hurried from the bedroom.

I curled into the fetal position, pulling the comforter over myself and rocking slowly as I tried to imagine what could possibly have happened. Horrible, frightening images born on the evening news danced across unbidden across my mind. Downstairs, I could hear Sam talking to someone on the phone. Her voice was muffled, but I could tell from her tone that she wasn't going crazy like I would have been. I felt guilty for leaving; guilty for running off and abandoning my baby. And now... now...

Sam returned a few minutes later, gently coaxing me out of the bed and helping me stand. "Janet, it's not as bad as you think. I talked to Jack and he said Cassandra is absolutely fine." She cupped my face, forcing me to look her in the eye as she enunciated, "Absolutely. Fine, Janet. She wasn't hurt at all." She made sure I was paying attention and repeated, "She's not hurt. He said it's bad, but... it's fixable. Can you walk? We have to go to Colonel O'Neill's house."

"W-why?"

"That's where Cassandra is. Can you walk?"

I nodded, then cupped her face. I rose to meet her lips, kissing her softly. We parted our lips, but only shared breath. I inhaled the offered oxygen, then flattened my feet to the ground. Softly, I said, "Thank you, Sam."

She took my hand and softly said, "We need to hurry, sweetheart. C'mon..."

---

When we pulled into the driveway of the colonel's rural house, Daniel was already pacing nervously on the porch. I felt my heart sink to my feet; he had to come out to prepare me for whatever was wrong. Sam gently touched my thigh, rubbing my leg through my trousers. "It'll be fine," she assured me. I put my hand on top of hers and smiled. I knew it would be fine... Sam had promised. I opened the door and stepped out, accepting my fate. I desperately wanted to take Sam's hand, but knew that Daniel might think it was a little odd. Or... maybe not. Time of trauma, right? I need her for comfort, so it wouldn't look weird to clutch her hand.

Ah, the hell with it. I grabbed her hand and pressed against her side. She squeezed my fingers, leading me to the porch.

If Daniel thought the hand-holding looked suspicious, he didn't let on. He smiled warmly, adjusting his glasses. "Hi. We were trying to reach you since yesterday; no one knew where you were staying."

"That's sort of the point of getting away, Daniel," Sam said. "Where is she?"

"By the pool," he said.

Sam started in that direction, but I held her back. I looked at Daniel and forced the tears to remain in my eyes. "What happened, Daniel? What happened to my baby?"

"Oh, no..." he said, stuttering slightly, reiterating what Sam had already promised. "No, no, Cassandra is fine. It's..." He adjusted his glasses again. "Pavlov."

It took me a moment to process the name of the dog Colonel O'Neill had given her. The dog that stayed at his house. The dog that usually ran up to us whenever we pulled into the driveway. The dog that was nowhere to be seen. "Oh, God," I muttered, half-relieved and still expecting some kind of worse news. "What happened to him?"

"Jack and I went fishing the other day, taking advantage of downtime, and we dropped Pavlov off at your neighbor's house. Cassie was playing with him most of the afternoon, but at around six... um... he ran into the road. He got hit by a car." He sighed heavily. "He died immediately. I'm sorry, Janet. She was so-so heartbroken, she wanted to talk to you. But no one could find you, so--"

I cleared my throat, starting towards the back of the house. Sam and Daniel trailed behind. "How is she? How is she dealing with it?"

"She's not," Daniel said. "Not really. When we couldn't find you, she went back to the silent treatment she used when we first returned from Hanka. She hasn't said a word since 'Call my Mom.'"

I broke into a run, turning the corner of the house at a solid jog. When I spotted my daughter sitting next to Colonel O'Neill on the edge of the pool, looking forlornly into the waters, my heart exploded with joy and sadness. I wanted to crumble at the hardships this poor, innocent child had to face. I called out, "Cassandra!"

She turned, eyes wide. When she saw me, she was on her feet in seconds. She dashed toward me and shouted, "Mommy!" Her tiny body collided with mine and we both stopped in our tracks, clinging to each other. Tears fell from my eyes, but I didn't remember when I started crying. I just held her and eventually lowered her feet to the deck. I leaned back, allowing her to look into my eyes. She was crying, too, her eyes red and puffy. I wiped away her tears when she said, "Pavlov got hit by a car."

"I know, sweety," I whispered. "I know. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you. I'm so sorry." I pulled her to me again, holding her tight. "Mommy's here now. Mommy will make it better." I only hoped I could fulfill that promise. She was whimpering against my shoulder, her fingers clutching the back of my blouse in a deathgrip. Finally, I gently pushed her away and said, "Why didn't you talk to Col-- Jack or Daniel? Why were you quiet again?"

She sniffled. "W-when... when they couldn't find you... and they couldn't call you on the phone... I thought-- I thought that maybe the same thing that happened at home happened here." Her eyes were overflowing again. "I thought you and Sam w-were..."

I shushed her, brushing her hair with my fingers. "Quiet, now... don't even think that, sweetheart." I embraced her again. "Sam and I are right here... we're fine. We're not going anywhere." I felt Sam's hand on my back and reached back with one hand, motioning for her to join us. She knelt, wrapping her arms around both of us and resting her head on Cassandra's back. As we hugged, I heard the blonde sniffle slightly. The untouchable Captain was crying. Over a dog. I wanted desperately to kiss her, to taste the saltiness of her tears on her lips, but I knew that would be terribly inappropriate.

Finally, we broke off our group hug and stood. I lifted Cassandra, noting that she was almost too big for me do so. Jack and Daniel were watching us from afar, leaning against the railing of the pool. The colonel tipped a beer bottle back, draining what little was left. Daniel's eyebrows were arched. Finally, he spoke. "Wow. That's what I call a family."

My ears burned and I turned my face away. I pressed my forehead to Cassandra's and said, "How 'bout we head home? Talk about Pavlov a little?"

She nodded slowly.

"Okay," I said, "but you've gotta let Sam carry you." I turned, depositing the young girl into my lover's arms. Sam hoisted Cassie up, draping our daughter across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Cassie giggled and I allowed myself to smile. "That's my girl," I said. I caught Sam's gaze, letting her know that meant her, too. She nodded slightly, indicating she understood. I walked to the guys as Sam carried the laughing girl to the car. I pecked each one on the cheek and said, "Thank you... for watching her, for taking care of her... for everything."

"What did we do?" O'Neill said. "You're here five minutes and she's not only talking, she's laughing." He squinted at me and said, "Are you sure you're not taking Mom Classes?" He smirked and winked at me. "Go on, get outta here. You got a daughter to raise." He tilted his empty beer bottle at me and I turned, following Sam's path out of the backyard.

---

"Dr. Warner, please," I said to the airman. I chewed on my fingernail, wondering what he would make me do in return for reneging on my promise to take this overnight shift. Twirling the phone cord around my index finger, I paced along the kitchen counter where Sam was preparing our spaghetti and meatballs. Cassie was sitting at the dining room table, looking at the few pictures we had managed to take of Pavlov. I was about to tell her where the other photo album was when the line clicked and my colleague's distracted voice came over the line. "Warner."

"Hi," I said, already nervous. "It's, uh... it's Dr. Fraiser."

He paused. "Oh. I meant to call you."

I frowned. "You did?"

"Yes. We've hit a bit of a snafu in the scheduling. You were supposed to work the overnight shift tonight, am I correct?"

I nodded. "Yes, in fact, that's why I--"

"No need," he interrupted. "SG-4 came back yesterday ahead of schedule. Found some kinda Jaffa training camp and got caught by the camp counselor. No injuries, just a lot of bruised egos..." I heard paper flipping. "General Hammond assigned one of your RNs to work overnight since there's nothing big scheduled; no teams off-world... Sorry if this causes problems."

I smiled, practically shining. "Problems? Actually, I called to see if I could get out of it. I'm... sort of busy tonight."

Warner sighed dramatically. "Well, in that case... I could take you off the schedule. You'd owe me one, though."

I smirked at him through the phone. "Nice try, really admirable. Have a good night, Joseph."

"You, too, Dr. Fraiser."

When I hung up, I pushed Sam into the kitchen and out of Cassie's line of sight. I kissed her hard, tasting spaghetti sauce on her lips and tongue. I feasted on her for a moment, then pulled back and smiled. "Don't you just love it when everything comes together?" I sighed, resting my head on her chest. "Fate."

---

I was already in my pajamas when Sam came into the bedroom. I had made a deal with her that I would tuck in Cassandra if Sam would do the dishes. Her job took a bit longer than mine did, and she had stopped in to wish Cassie sweet dreams before retiring. I turned as the door opened, smiling as I fastened the last button on my top, leaving my legs bare. "Hi, sweetheart."

Sam smiled, kicking off her shoes. "Hi," she said. "Tough day, huh?"

"Impossible," I whispered, moving into her arms. She rested her hands in the middle of my back, sliding her fingers up and down my spine. I shivered at the touch and said, "I hope I did the right thing."

Sam pushed me away slightly, then said, "Are you kidding? You comforted her, you made her feel okay for missing the dog, you let her remember him... Janet, you're a terrific mom. A natural."

I sniffed, brushing my hand under my nose. "You're gonna make me cry."

She hugged me again, raising her hands to loosen my hair. She kissed the top of my head and said, "I saw that you got Cass into her pajamas?" I nodded against her shoulder. "And your wearing your own." I nodded; that much was obvious. Sam sighed. "Would you mind one more?" I stepped back, frowning up at her. She grinned mischievously and said, "Will you help me into my pajamas, Dr. Fraiser?"

My eyes brightened at the suggestion. I stepped back and began toying with the buttons of her blouse. "Didn't we just do this in Boulder?" I asked, sliding my hand over the smooth skin of her stomach. I felt the small, almost invisible bump where a knife had been used against her. I had sown that injury up with exquisite care, thinking it was merely a dream to think I'd be touching the same spot intimately.

Sam smiled. "So sue me. I like having you undress me."

Without another word, I finished unbuttoning her blouse and flattened my palms on her throat. Taking the time to map every inch of her soft skin with the pads of my fingers, I slid my hands down, taking the material of her shirt with them. It fell to the ground, revealing her cotton bra. I bit my lower lip, stepping back and finding the clasp resting between her breasts. I touched it gently, letting my finger slip between the material of her underwear and her skin. The clasp came open without any difficulty, her breasts sagging ever-so-slightly as the support was released. My hands swept over her perfect mounds, feeling the pebbly texture of her erect nipple against my palm.

I knelt, momentarily ignoring her breast (which was like trying to ignore an elephant that had just trumpeted into the room). Her jeans had a button-fly: a genius in design, a bitch in seduction. I undid the top button, then the second. Sam's hands moved down, intercepting mine and pulling them away. I looked at her in confusion, then smiled as she grabbed the two halves and pulled them apart. The remaining buttons reluctantly came undone, but none of them popped off. I arched an eyebrow and said, "I'm going to be sure to remember that for next time."

Her panties had a small bow in the center, where the material dipped towards her core. I fingered the bow, playing with it for a moment before I kissed her through the material. "Janet," she said softly. I looked up, our eyes locking. "I hate these panties," she revealed. "Rip them." I was not foolish enough to argue with a mostly-naked woman. The material ripped easily.

I never did succeed in getting pajamas onto her.

---

Sam fell asleep with her socks still on. I was wearing my shirt, but I was pretty sure it wasn't buttoned correctly. Sam was spooned against my back, her firm breasts a constant pressure against me. Several times before falling asleep, I reached back and stroked the smooth expanse of her flanks, pausing to tickle the soft skin below her breast. She giggled and playfully slapped my hand, whispering for me to 'stop that!' We were about to fall asleep when the hall light flooded in. We both sat up, our hearts pounding at the intrusion.

Cassandra stood in the doorway, clutching a teddy bear that belonged to the menagerie surrounding her bed. She yawned quietly, then said, "I had a bad dream. Can I sleep in here?"

I nodded, nervously considering the position I had just been placed in. "Um... sure, sweetheart. Come on."

She walked to the bed, climbing up and snuggling between the two of us. Realizing that Sam's nudity would probably be uncomfortable in this new arrangement, I quickly searched the floor for a t-shirt and tossed it to her. Using a nimbleness that I envied, she wiggled her way into it without removing the blanket. Cassie collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh and I rolled over to look at her. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Nodding, she mumbled, "I'm sleepy."

I glanced at Sam. "That's okay, honey. We can talk in the morning." I almost breathed a sigh of relief, thinking Sam and I were going to avoid the hard-to-answer question.

The second my head hit the pillow, Cassandra's sweet, innocent voice lifted to my ears. "Why is Sam sleeping with you?"

Chapter Eight

I raised myself onto one elbow and looked over Cassandra at Sam. Her blue eyes were open wide, her mouth agape. I was conflicted; do I use this opportunity to reveal the nature of our relationship to Cassie or do I lie and put the talk off for a little longer? Both solutions had their merits, but I didn't really have time to contemplate it. Sam solved the dilemma for me. "I, uh... I had a bad dream, too, sweetheart," she said, stroking Cassie's hair. "Your mom was nice enough to let me sleep in here."

Cassie smiled against the pillow, turning her tired eyes to my face. "You're really savin' everyone tonight, huh?"

I grinned, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "It's my job, kiddo. Now, get some sleep."

When I was sure she was asleep, I looked at Sam again, shrugging. The blonde smiled and mouthed 'good night,' blowing me a kiss before settling in. I lowered my head to my pillow, looking at my slumbering daughter before I let myself fall asleep as well.

---

I woke, fully rested, at twenty minutes past three that morning. All the naps I had taken had caught up with me and I couldn't bring myself to sleep anymore. Heightening my problems were my bedmates; Cassandra had snaked her hand through my hair and her leg was draped over my midsection. Sam, my go-to-gal for when I couldn't sleep, was miles away on the other side of the bed, sleeping peacefully. I tilted my head and lightly kissed Cassandra on the forehead, disentangling myself from my daughter's death grip. She protested half-heartedly before turning over and latching onto Sam.

That done, I pulled on a robe and slipped quietly from the room, heading downstairs. The house was extremely quiet; a rare occurance after Sam and Cassie had moved in. I turned on a single lamp in the living room and moved to the bookcase. I scanned the many titles, most of which I had yet to start reading, and finally settled on a nice romantic novel that I had enjoyed two or three years ago. I pulled it from it's place on the shelf, noticing to my dismay that the area where it had rested was marked with dust. I brushed my finger over the wood, putting off my housework for a little longer.

Stripping the dust jacket off the book and laying it on the coffee table, I curled up on the third cushion of the couch, leaning towards the lamp to illuminate the page. Two pages later, I marked my place with my thumb and stood, walking across the living room and searching the CD rack. It was much to quiet to read. I found a collection of classical music and placed it in the tray, setting the volume to three. That way, it would be audible, but not loud enough to wake Sam and Cassie.

I returned to the couch as Bach's music quietly crept across the room. The book I had chosen was a typical mainstream romance. Woman marries the wrong guy, woman hates men, woman moves to country and falls for the ruggedly handsome (male) sheriff who teaches her it's all right to love again and she finally admits she can't live without him even though she's still a Strong, Independant Woman. I flipped to the back of the book and saw that, as always, he came running to her rescue when trouble came. I closed the book, wondering why I had ever enjoyed it in the first place.

Then, it came to me. I smiled, remembering that the first time I had read the book, I had been married to Michael. I had been wanting that handsome, rugged (male) sheriff to come riding in and save the day. I tossed the book across the couch, running my fingers through my hair. Thank God I came to my senses.

Going back to the bookshelf, I replaced the 'romance' and searched for something a little more realistic. I finally settled on one of Patricia Cornwell's Kay Scarpetta novels and returned to my place on the couch.

I had read five chapters when I heard quiet footsteps on the stairs. While I had been reading, I had turned and lifted my legs so that I was reclining and taking up most of the cushion area. I marked my place, half-turning to see who was coming to join me. I saw the shadow of the intruder before anything else, the size of which told me exactly who was awake. Finally, Sam appeared, quietly stepping into the living room. She leaned against the door, her hair mussed and her eyes half-closed. I guessed she'd been awake for five, maybe ten seconds. "Hi," she whispered. Her voice was a mixture of water and gravel, rough from sleep but naturally smooth. She had thrown on a robe that was a bit too short, revealing her long, lithe legs.

I smiled and held my hand out. She walked to me, settling down between my legs and tilting her head so I could rest my chin on her shoulder. I kissed her cheek, just in front of her earlobe, and whispered, "What are you doing up?"

"You were gone. I got worried."

I kissed her again, brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm fine. Just a little too rested." I smiled. "It kinda sucks when you spend the weekend catching up on your sleep and then get benched at the last second."

When I had seen Sam coming downstairs, I had put the book aside. My hand was now free to rest just above the swell of her left breast. She reached up, linking her fingers with mine. She used her other hand to trace lines from my wrist to my fingers, pausing to fully explore the band of slightly pale flesh where my wedding ring had once resided. I had expected the band of pale skin to have darkened by now, but like a bad rash it continued to plague me. I pressed my forehead to her temple, feeling her blonde hair tickling my nose. She whispered, "Did you love him?"

Ouch. The tough question. I took a moment to ponder the answer, then sighed. "I thought I did. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away," I chuckled. "He seemed so perfect at the time. What did I know about love, though?" I shook my head. "There should be a law about people marrying too young. Thirty is an acceptable age limit, I think." Sam chuckled and I decided that turnabout was fair play. "How about you? Did you love Jonas?"

She was quiet for a good, long time. Finally, she squeezed my hand and said, "I loved the idea of Jonas." I waited. I turned, looking through the kitchen window to see the sun was beginning to rise. I couldn't see a clock from where I was, but I assumed it was almost time to get Cassandra ready for school. My fingers stroked Sam's shoulder through her robe as she found the words to continue. I was about to prompt her when she began speaking again. "He was a broken toy. I loved fixing broken toys. Find someone with potential, find out what's wrong with him and fix it. Turns out the cracks Jonas had were a little out of my league."

"And psychotic."

She laughed. "And psychotic. Yes, we can't forget that, can we?"

"We've been pretty unlucky in love, haven't we?" I commented, kissing her forehead and letting my lips rest against her warm skin.

I could feel the wrinkles forming in her forehead as she frowned. "Well... yeah. Of course we have." She turned so she could look up at me. "I mean, we hadn't found each other yet. We had to be unlucky in love." She smiled and said, "We're making up for it now." She pulled my head down and kissed me softly, her tongue flickering across my lips. I allowed her tongue entrance, closing my eyes as she explored. I felt her shift on top of me, our bodies practically nude below our robes. Her hand slipped inside the top flap of my terrycloth, running over the upper swell of my breasts. My God, of all the times to have a twelve-year-old in your bed...

Reluctantly, I pushed her away and breathed, "We should stop."

"Yeah," she said. "We should. When do you have to be at the base?"

"Nine," I said, helping her finger-comb her hair. "I figured that I would just head there after I dropped Cassandra off at school. How about you?"

She sighed, sitting up and freeing me to do the same. "Nine. Looks like Hammond is getting a little lax in that 'no-overlapping-shift' rule for you and me." She stood, cinching the belt of her robe.

"You can't really blame him," I said, standing to play devil's advocate. "It has been over a month and a half; three weeks longer than he originally planned. Cassandra has to get adjusted *sometime*."

Nodding slowly, Sam was reluctant to meet my gaze. "Yeah. But if she gets adjusted, I'll have no reason to stay around here. Teal'c will go back to the base, I'll go back home and... you'll be living here with Cassandra. Everything will... go back to normal."

I moved close to her, cupping her face and forcing her to look at me. "Sam... it won't go back to normal. Not for us. I love you. And now, I know that you love me, too." I kissed her lips, letting my fingers drift into her hair. I felt a tear on her cheek and brushed it away. I pecked her lips one last time before I straightened, then said, "Now, don't get all mushy on me. I just gave up on a book because it had too much of this junk in it."

Sam laughed, a true laugh, and kissed each of my eyelids. "Do you want to take first shower?"

"I'll start breakfast, you get first shower." I looked at the clock and saw that it was a quarter to six. I added, "Wake Cassandra when you get out, 'kay?" She nodded and headed for the stairs. I headed for the kitchen, allowing myself one more backward glance before I let Sam out of my sight.

God, that woman had a great body.

---

I made my famous scrambled eggs and bacon, toasting the bread to a nice, golden hue before I began the bacon. Cassie made her way to the kitchen and sat in her regular seat, assuming her classic position; head down on crossed arms. I smiled and carried her plate to the table, setting it right in front of her. "Cass-ie," I sang. "You want something to eat, you gotta sit up."

Reluctantly, she raised her head and said, "Eggs?"

"Eggs," I confirmed. "You gettin' tired of the same ol' thing?"

She picked up a fork and gathered some eggs, taking a bite before answering. "Not really," she said, her mouth full. I scolded her, telling her to finish chewing before she answered. She complied, swallowing before she continued. "But when you were on vacation, Mrs. Tierney made oatmeal with strawberry stuff and bananas."

"Strawberry stuff and bananas, huh?" I made a mental note to stop at Albertson's on the way home and peruse their breakfast aisle. "You like strawberries? Or is there another topping you'd rather have?"

"Why not just get the value pack?" Sam asked. "Four different flavors for about a dollar more."

I jumped. I hadn't realized she had come into the room. I turned to see her leaning again the kitchen counter, nibbling on a piece of bacon. She was fully dressed, her wet hair combed against her skull. "Oh. Yeah, good idea. When did you come in?"

She smirked. "I walked in when your back was turned. Sorry, sweetheart... didn't mean to scare you."

I turned back to Cassie, wondering if she picked up on Sam's term of endearment. "Hurry up and finish eating, Cass," I told her, patting her leg under the table. I stood tilted my head towards the stairs. "I'm going to go get ready and I need to go talk with the Tierneys before work."

Sam nodded, making a plate and heading for her seat at the table. I paused in the doorway, watching Sam and Cassandra. They each had their own seat at my dining room table; it wasn't even debatable any more. Sam sat in the chair closest to the window, while Cassie sat with her back to the door. I had my choice of the other two, but usually sat next to Sam and across from Cassandra. For some reason, that simple realization brought a tear to my eye. I turned and headed upstairs before either of them noticed my tears and asked about it.

---

I was dressed in my blue blouse and navy skirt when I rang Abigail Tierney's doorbell fifteen minutes later. My hair was still a little moist thanks to the wonderful piece of crap that is my blow-dryer. Abigail was smiling as soon as the door swung open, apparently having looked through the peep hole before she answered. She was still only half-dressed, her hair still wet from her shower. She was holding both of her shoes in her right hand. "Hi," I said, looking her over. "Set your alarm wrong?"

She leaned against the doorframe, working one of her shoes onto her feet. "Ha, ha, very funny." She looked at my uniform again, then joked, "I'm getting kinda sick of you showing up on my door step this early in your uniform. You make me feel very lazy."

I smiled. "I've been up since three this morning; I had a lot of time to get ready."

Abigail faked a horrified look. "What the hell--" She paused, quickly looking over her shoulder to see if her daughter was in earshot to hear the curse. When she continued, her voice was a bit lower. "What are you doing waking up at three?!"

"What do you do at three?" I asked, acting superior. "Sleep?"

She pointed a finger at me as she tilted to put her other shoe on. "I'm kind of in a hurry, actually. How can I help you?"

"Um, I was wondering if we could set a date for that dinner you promised me? Say... tomorrow night?"

Abigail smiled. "Oh! Oh, of course! Um, tomorrow will probably work; I have to check our schedules first, but I think it'll work." She turned and said, "Emily, hurry up!" She checked her watch. "I'm going to have to do my make-up in the car..."

I pursed my lips, then said, "Actually... if your wonderfully helpful husband wouldn't mind watching Cassandra tonight after school, I could drive the kids right now. Give you time to finish getting ready."

Abigail's eyes widened. She looked at me as if I had just offered to pay off all of her student loans and pay for a new car. "Really? You don't mind?"

I shrugged. "I'm not due at the mountain 'til nine anyway... Sam and I were going to drive Cassie anyway."

She reached out, putting a hand on each of my shoulders. "You just earned yourself babysitting for a week, Dr. Janet Fraiser." She grinned, then turned and said, "Em? You're going to be riding with Cassie's mom today, all right?"

The little girl I'd seen only once or twice came in from the living room, carrying a pink backpack. She looked up at me, smiling. I returned the smile and said, "Hi. Are you ready to go?"

Emily nodded shyly.

Abigail knelt and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "I'll see you tonight, okay, sweety? Give mommy a kiss." Emily kissed her mom on the nose and Abigail stood, handing me the pink backpack. "Thanks so much for doing this. Oh! Oh, and sorry about... you know, this weekend."

"No problem," I said, wishing she hadn't brought up the dog incident. "Things happen. Cassie is fine right now, but I think we'll wait before getting her another dog."

Emily was waiting patiently on the porch. Abigail and I said our good-byes and I started across the street. I was halfway to my car when the front door opened and Sam exited with Cassie in tow. She smiled at me and tapped her watch-free wrist. "Timing," she said, with a wink. Sam and I got into the front seat, giving the girls the back. They climbed in and Emily, the taciturn little child I had never heard speak, exploded into full chatterbox form. I widened my eyes and checked the rear view, making sure it was, indeed, the neighbor's child that was speaking like an auctioneer.

Cassie just smiled and tossed in an occasional "Really?" or "Wow!" and the rare "I know!" I was tempted to offer to change the radio to a station the girls both liked, but music would have been a useless addition to their universe. I simply tuned it to Sam's favorite classic rock station and pulled out of the driveway.

---

I left Lover Sam in the car when I slammed and locked the door. I was joined on the walk to the elevator by Coworker Sam. There was a massive difference between the two; her hair still smelled the same and her kisses tasted the same when we snuck one in the occasional broom closet, but her entire demeanor changed. Several times, I had watched her and tried to actually see the moment where one left and the other showed up, but it was impossible. On the ride down, I wondered if *I* was like another person to *her* when we worked.

On the one hand, I hoped I was. The only way we had any chance of not being discovered was if we treated each other as consummate professionals. Just another officer who was under my care. Just another person who needed stitching once in a while. But on the other hand, I didn't really want her to *ever* see me that coldly. I wanted her to see me as the woman she held at night. I wanted her to always see me as a woman she loved. I was torn, tormented by wanting two separate things. On one hand, I was happy we were in love but we ran the risk of being discovered. On the other, we were unhappy about hiding our relationship at work, but we were able to keep working together. I exhaled sharply, puffing my cheeks out. Maybe *this* is the reason relationships are regulated...

She left me at Level 19, headed to her lab. As the doors closed, she glanced back, raising two fingers and bending them slowly in a meek good-bye. I smiled, but didn't have time to return the gesture before the doors closed. I sighed and leaned against the wall of the elevator car, humming a song that I didn't remember the words to as I watched the numbers slowly climb to the infirmary.

I passed several filled beds as I entered the infirmary, pausing to check the charts to see what I had missed. SG-8 had returned early with burns and bruises over the majority of their bodies. The one officer who was awake assured me that they had checked the refugees for marks on the backs of their necks, but a Goa'uld had somehow slipped through. I remembered Teal'c once mentioning something about Goa'uld's being able to infiltrate a body without a noticeable scar, but couldn't recall how it was done. Pushing the thought aside, I gave each of the officers a cursory examination and decided they were all out of imminent danger and would survive with minor scarring. I headed to my office to finish up some paperwork I had left over the weekend.

The paperwork was routine, bland, boring, mind-numbing stuff. When I finally looked up at the clock, I realized I had been working for almost three hours straight. I stretched, raising my arms over my head and rolling my shoulders. I was standing to head to the cafeteria when Daniel Jackson appeared in my periphery, standing just outside my window. I turned to let him know I'd seen him, raising my hand in a wave. He nervously tapped on the glass, then indicated my closed office door. I nodded and he walked over, stepping inside.

"Hey, Daniel. What's broken?" I smiled.

He shyly looked at his boots and said, "Actually, this is kind of a social visit... Can I sit?"

I nodded, wondering what kind of social visit he was planning. I moved back to my chair and sat, wishing the blinds were closed. My guest was struggling with something; that much was obvious. During my time, I had counseled patients who thought they might have AIDS or some version of hepatitis; the sexually-related diseases were always a closed-door conversation. Of course, there was also pregnancy... knowing some of the things that had happened with the Stargate, I couldn't necessarily rule that one out in this case. I clasped my hands and leaned forward, raising my eyebrows. "What's wrong, Daniel?"

He closed the door before he walked to the chair, lowering himself slowly as if the cushion would hurt him. For a moment, I considered he had possibly gotten hemorrhoids. It would certainly account for his nervous behavious. He scraped his boot along the cement floor of my office, then looked up at me. "I, uh... went fishing, with Jack this weekend while you and Sam were in Aspen."

"Boulder," I corrected. Talk about your non-sequiters...

Nodding, he said, "Yeah. Boulder." He scooted up in his seat, leaning forward and balancing his elbows on his knees. Scratch hemorrhoids, I thought, immediately regretting the mental image that caused. "Anyway, Jack can be a very, very... persuasive man."

"Yeah," I said, looking down at my desk blotter, wondering where the hell this was possibly going. "Sometimes I think the only person who can convince Jack O'Neill to come to the infirmary for a check-up is Jack O'Neill."

He smiled. "Yeah. So, we were... um, talking. About people we knew and, and life and relationships and things like that. He asked if I was seeing anyone and I told him that... that it was too soon. I hadn't given up on Sha're yet." I nodded. No one could expect him to have given up hope so early. But I still didn't see where this conversation was going. "But he kept... badgering me. Until, finally, he asked me if there was anyone on the base - anyone at all - who I had feelings for. Anyone that I might... consider dating." He adjusted his glasses, looking everywhere but at me. "And, like a fool, I told him."

I was suddenly very uncomfortable. "Who, Daniel?"

"You," he said, standing suddenly. I almost jumped at the sudden movement, keeping myself composed. He turned his back to me, walking slowly towards the door. "I told him that, I guess if I had to pick someone on the base to date, that the only person I could really see myself getting close to is... is you."

Words failed me. Thoughts failed me. "O-Oh," I stuttered, finding my desk blotter to be enormously intriguing. I ran my finger over one of the notes I'd scrawled on it, then looked at Daniel. "Are you... are you asking me out on a date?"

He sat on the arm of my couch, still staring at his boots. "I don't know." He slapped his leg, then looked at the door. "It was all Jack's idea. Look, you can say no. I won't care... I mean, I'll care, but..." He shook his head. "Just... just, ah, forget I ever came in here, okay?"

I stood, walking around the desk. "Wait, Daniel. Hold on just a second." He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Would you please look at me?" He raised his head, eyes reluctant to lock onto mine. "I'm... flattered. Honestly. You're basically one of the sweetest, nicest guys on the base. And I'm sure there's someone out there who would be honored to-to date you." Now, the excuse. Do I go with the classic 'we're coworkers and those relationships never work out' or try the 'I'm still getting used to Cassandra and don't think starting a relationship right now would be helpful.' I had completely ignored both of those very reasonable excuses with Sam.

Sighing, I looked into Daniel's sad, blue eyes and released my breath in a slow, steady stream. Finally, I said, "Daniel, what I'm about to say doesn't leave this room... but I can't go out with you because I'm already in a relationship." No turning back now. My chest felt like it was in a vice. "With Sam."

Chapter Nine

It seemed to take an eternity for lunch to roll around. When the clock finally allowed me to leave the infirmary, I made a quick stop in the cafeteria and headed for my lover's lab. I paused outside the open door, leaning against the frame and watching the blonde captain work. She was checking a computer screen for various read-outs, occasionally making a notation in her workbook. Some soft music was playing, but I couldn't make out a band or the name of the song. She scratched her forehead, then typed something into the computer. She smiled when whatever she had done worked out and I picked that moment to make my presence known. I knocked lightly on the door frame. "Hey, Sam."

She looked up, eyes brightening when she saw me. "Janet. Hi," she said, her voice friendly but professional. She pushed away from the desk and stood, walking to the island in the middle of the room. "What's up?"

I shrugged, entering the room and keeping my left hand behind my back. "Just wanted to check on my favorite captain. What're you working on?"

Waving her hand at the computer, she shook her head and sighed, "Nothing amazingly interesting... I was planning to skip out and head to lunch."

Raising an eyebrow, I moved my hand from behind my back and smiled broadly. "Not neccesary, Captain Carter." I held a tall glass of blue Jello. Sam grinned and greedily held out her hand for the treat. I leaned on the edge of the table, resting my chin on my hand as I watched her scoop out one square with the spoon. "It's not the healthiest lunch, but they were serving the casserole today."

"Ah," Sam said, using the spoon to dig through her dessert. "Did they ever figure out what they use in that thing?"

I shook my head. "I think it's a mixture of beef, yogurt and some MREs."

She held the spoon to her lips, opening them slightly and loudly inhaling the square into her mouth with a disgusting 'sleeeurp!' I winced at her manners, then sighed, "Just promise me you'll never eat like that in front of Cassandra."

Sam chuckled. "Deal. So... what brings you here in the middle of the afternoon?" Another bite. "I mean, it's not like you usually just--" Bite. "--drop by to bring me Jello. Not that I'm complaining, mind you." Bite. "Something on your mind?"

Now or never, I decided. I stood and walked to the door, checking to make sure the coast was clear. I stepped back, closing the door for privacy and using my keycard to engage the lock. Sam frowned, putting down her glass. "Janet?" she frowned. "Is... something wrong? Did you find something on my last exam or--"

"No, no, nothing like that, Sam," I assured her. She was half out of her seat and I gently pushed her back down. I placed both hands on her shoulders and closed my eyes. "Sam, I... told Daniel about us."

Her eyes widened a fraction faster than her jaw dropped. She slowly stood, maintaining eye contact as she processed what I had just said. She couldn't articulate. Her mouth formed about a dozen words before she finally decided on, "What?"

"I told Daniel... He-he came into my office today and started talking about, about Sha're and Jack O'Neill telling him to get back on the dating horse and take his emotions for a ride or something," I was stammering, my lips trying hard not to form the words I wanted to speak. "He finally asks me out on a date and I, of course, say no... so the guy is heartbroken and you know how the poor guy gets when he's heartbroken--"

"Puppy eyes," Sam said, her voice soft. I felt a victory; I was breaking through the hard surface and she was beginning to understand why I had done it.

"Yes. Puppy eyes. So... I figured we could use someone else on our side. Just in case. And, besides, it's Daniel. Someone on SG-1 was bound to find out anyway. Wouldn't you rather it be Daniel than Colonel O'Neill?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You have a point there... My point is that-that it's so *soon*, Janet! We've barely been dating three weeks and someone at the base already knows about it. How much longer until someone else picks up on it?"

I placed my hands on her shoulders and stood on my tiptoes, kissing her softly. "No one else will find out," I whispered against her lips. "I *told* Daniel and he was floored... had no idea. We have been very, very careful." I stroked her cheek. "But, God, I want to scream it from the mountaintops."

She smiled. "Okay. I guess I can deal with Daniel knowing and... in the long run, I suppose it can help. But since you told him about us, we should really get around to telling the one person who really *has* to know."

"Cassie," I nodded.

"Right. I mean, she's not stupid. She probably already suspects after last night, but... I don't want her to find out by accident. We really should tell her."

"I've really been avoiding it," I admitted. "We don't know what standards her society put on sex. We don't know how she'll take it." I closed my eyes, resting my head on her chest. "And then there's the other thing."

Sam stroked my hair. "The other thing?"

I nodded, enjoying the feeling of her fingers in my hair. "Yeah. Remember when you were a kid and some nights you'd hear your parents going at it down the hall?" I felt a shudder run through her. "Imagine if your parents had come right out and blatantly told you they were having sex."

"Oh, God," Sam said, her voice shaky. "Maybe we should rethink letting Cassie know."

I smiled and backed up, walking over to the table. "Can I have a bite of Jello?"

She didn't answer, instead walking over to the glass and spooning a square up. Smiling mischievously, she inhaled the square and leaned forward, snaking one arm around my neck and pulling me close. We kissed, exchanging the sweet treat between us. I tried to offer my tongue as thanks, but the Jello rolled to the back of my throat and momentarily blocked my wind pipe. I coughed violently, backing up and watching as Sam laughed. I coughed again, patting my chest as my eyes watered. I swallowed the suddenly deadly snackfood and turned to Sam, my face red and my eyes watering. My voice was raspy when I said, "They don't show that part in all the romances, do they?"

---

General Hammond barely looked up as I entered his office. "Sir?" I asked, my usually timid self around the commanding officer of the base. "I have those physical results you wanted. SG-10 looks okay for a mission assignment tomorrow."

He nodded, taking the medical files. "Thank you, Doctor." I had turned, already in the doorway before he added, "Oh, by the way... how is Cassandra doing?"

I turned, smiling. My favorite subject. "She's wonderful, Sir. A little problem with her dog yesterday, but--"

"Yes, I heard... the car. She's handling it okay?"

I nodded. "A little nightmare last night, but I think we're out of the woods." I was about to ask him if I was dismissed, then realized the time was right for a request. "Sir, ah... although she's doing better, I was thinking about maybe having Sam stay a little longer." He didn't look up. I took that as a good sign. "Maybe... an extra two weeks or maybe another month. I think--"

"Denied."

The one word was so powerful, so final, that I almost didn't believe I had heard it. I frowned, trying to make sense of the reality of the moment. "Sir?"

He looked up. "Doctor, I understand your reluctance to let Sam leave, but I think it would be in Cassandra's best interest if, at the end of this four-week period, Captain Carter moved back to her own home." He laid down his pen, folding his hands over his desk blotter. "I understand how hard it is raising a daughter. Sometimes I help my daughter take care of her children and they're a handful. But I don't think Cassandra will benefit from the situation at your home right now. The sooner she gets accustomed to you as her sole caretaker, the sooner she gets adjusted."

"But, Sir... she's bonded with Sam at a level that I--"

"Do you have a dog, Doctor?"

I was thrown by this sudden change in topic. "Uh... Cassie did, Sir."

He sighed. "When I was a kid, my parents got me a big German Shepard for my birthday. Named him Gus. Big dog, mean as a Texas summer. The first coupla days, he wouldn't listen to us for anything. Growled whenever we got near his food dish and seldom let anyone touch 'im. But, after a while, he started wandering towards the house... let us touch his fur and pet 'im a little bit. Before we knew it, we had ourselves a genuine guard dog who was willing to put his life on the line for us. Never had to, but... My point is, Gus was so stubborn at first because he was attached to his previous owners. Do you think he ever would've let us get that close if his previous owners kept hangin' around?"

"No, Sir," I admitted. How to tell him that it wasn't for Cassie's sake I wanted Sam to stay?

Nodding, he said, "I'm not saying that the Captain has to be completely cut out of Cassandra's life. Just... not so involved in it. There's a reason Captain Carter didn't adopt the girl herself."

"Understood, Sir." I nodded and turned, leaving him behind. I waited until I got to the elevator to allow myself to feel defeated.

---

"Mean Mr. Mustard sleeps in the park, shaves in the dark trying to save paper..."

The music had been turned up on Sam's tape player when I entered the lab again. I recognized the Beatles' Abbey Road and would probably recognize it anywhere. I listened, nostalgic for those days of yore and the wonderful music it had produced. The song was half over when Sam finally looked up and noticed me loitering in the hallway. "Hey, there." I snapped back to the present. "Bring any more Jello?"

I stepped into the lab and pulled the door shut behind me, then leaned against it and closed my eyes. "Sam," I whisper. "I talked to General Hammond."

Her eyes widen and she stands. "You didn't... tell him too, did you?"

"No," I say, managing a smile. "Maybe... if I had, I wouldn't have such bad news for you now. Or maybe it would be worse news." I ran my hand through my hair and shook my head. "I asked him about the... the extension." Her blue eyes filled with hope, but she obviously knew it wasn't good news. "He effectively gave you an eviction notice, Sam. You're leaving in seven days." It sounded so much longer when I called it a week.

Sam fell back onto her stool and began to cry. I hurried across the room, wrapping my arms around her. As she rocked in my arms, the tape had moved on to one of my favorite sad songs. "Once there was a way to get back homeward... Once there was a way to get back home... Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry... And I will sing a lullaby..."

---

The rest of the day, I felt like I had a timer hanging over my head. T-Minus Seven Days and counting...

When I got home, I immediately picked Cassie up at the Tierney's and listened to Abigail talk about her day for a few minutes. I forced a smile, reminding myself that this was someone I was trying to like. When she finally finished, she put her hand on my forearm and said, "Look, my husband and I were talking and we decided it's really not necessary for you to ask every morning if he will pick up Cassie. You live right across the street; it would be ridiculous not to." She smiled. "Just... in the future? Just assume that he'll be her ride."

I raised my eyebrows. "Thank you, Abigail. I'll let you know if there's ever a change in schedule or if - God forbid - I get a vacation." I embraced her and said, "And with Sam moving out soon, this'll be extremely welcome."

"Aw," Abigail stepped back. "She's leaving? I barely got a chance to get to know her." I nodded slowly. Sam didn't exactly make all that good a first impression, either. She had treated Abigail with the kind of civility that she usually holds for the Goa'uld. Before I had a chance to change the subject, Abigail said, "You know... I think I have the perfect solution. The dinner tomorrow, what do you say you bring Sam? It'll give us a chance to get to know her before she has to go... unless you already have a date planned..."

Shrugging, I lied, "Oh, that'll be great! I did have someone I was going to ask, but he'll be willing to wait for this." I struck a 'sexy' pose, fluttering my eyelashes. Abigail laughed and excused herself. I was left alone in their living room. I sighed, moving to the bookcase and examining the titles. I was surprised to see they owned the entire Kay Scarpetta series by Patricia Cornwell. Picking one that I hadn't read, I flipped to the first page and read quietly.

Abigail returned with Cassie and I smiled, replacing the book on the shelf (which, I noticed, was *not* dusty) I knelt to wrap my arms around my daughter. I hugged her, realizing that my dread and exhaustion had faded after a three minute conversation with Abigail. Standing, wrapping my hand around Cassandra's, I smiled at Abigail and said, "Thanks again for watching her. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I wished her and Emily and David a good-night and stepped outside into the night. Cassie swung her hand and, indirectly, my hand as she began telling me about her day. A boy had gotten sick on the playground, lunch had been meat loaf, her teacher had graded a test, some kids had played tetherball at recess and asked her to play too (she happily informed me that she won three out of five games). By the time we got to the kitchen, Sam had poured three glasses of soda and decorated three plastic plates with slices of pizza.

She looked up, nibbling on a pepperoni. "About time!" she said, rising from her stool. "You guys get lost over there?"

Depositing Cassie in her seat, I headed into the kitchen. "Where is the, uh.... parmesian cheese?" I asked, knowing that the grated topping was kept in the pantry. Sam led the way, stepping into the small, closet-like pantry and pulling open the cabinet. She produced the thin, green tube and turned. I pushed her hand away, rising onto my toes and kissing her hard. Sam let the hand holding the cheese drop and returned the kiss with equal passion. When we broke apart, I whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Janet," she said, her voice equally quiet.

"Abigail wants to have dinner with us tomorrow night. Just you and me, no kids. Is that okay?"

I thought I saw a moment's hesitation, then she said, "I guess so... sure. How long do we have to stay over there?"

What an odd question... like a kid reluctant to visit his granny in the hospital. "Not sure. A couple of hours, at least." I smirked and added, "Just in case, don't make any other dates for that night."

She smiled weakly and motioned towards the kitchen with her head. "Cassie's probably waiting."

I nodded and stole another kiss before I slipped out of the pantry. Sam preceded me into the dining room, handing the parmesian cheese to Cassie as I paused next to the kitchen phone. The CallerID was flashing with a missed call, so I hit the review button. SleepRite Hotel, 544-3210. I frowned, wondering who would've been calling us from a hotel. The time was around four that afternoon, so if Cassandra had come over for something after school... I went into the dining room table and sat down, unfolding a napkin in my lap and casually asking, "Cass? Did you come over here for anything after Abigail picked you up this afternoon?"

She nodded, then apparently realized why I was asking. "Oh, yeah! Some guy called."

"Did he say what his name was?" Some guy calling us from a hotel in the middle of the afternoon?

Nodding slowly, Cassie sipped her soda and appeared deep in thought. "It was... something... He said his name was Michael something."

My heart froze. Sam looked at Cassie, then to me with an odd look on her face. She apparently realized the importance of the name, too. I reached across the table, taking Cassie's hand. "Honey? This is very important. Was the man named Michael Dunne?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah. He said he wanted you to call him whenever you got back from wherever you were."

I swallowed, suddenly losing interest in my pizza. I could feel my stomach churning as my brain formed the question I didn't want to ask. Finally, the words made their way to my lips. "Did... he ask... who you were?" A nod. "And w-what did you tell him, sweetheart?"

"He asked who I was, so I did what you told me to. I told him I was your daughter."

Oh, no, no, no, no......

---

Pick up, I mentally ordered. Pick up, you rotten rat bastard, pick up!

I was pacing in the living room with the wireless phone pressed against my ear. I imagined when I removed it, I would have an impression of the number keys on my cheek. Sam was perched on the end of the sofa, hands clasped loosely between her knees. Cassie had gone to sleep and I was furious; Sam was there to make sure I didn't yell too loudly at my ex-husband. Finally, on the fourteenth ring, he answered.

"Hello?"

The sound of his voice made me want to punch something. My hands balled into fists and I said, "Hello, Michael."

There was a rustling sound and he chuckled. "Well... Janet. How're things going for you these days?"

"Cut the crap, Michael," I said, lowering my voice. "Before you tell me why you called, I want to tell you that I am not giving you any money and you cannot stay here. I don't care how much motels cost, I don't care what kind of... of financial straits you're in. You can sleep in the middle of the street for all I care. In fact, I kind of recommend that one."

"Easy, Janney, easy." I despised that name. "I don't want anything, I just wanted to kinda meet up with you. See how things were goin'. Turns out, I got quite a little news report from that sweet-sounding little girl who answered the phone. What did she call herself? Oh, yeah... your daughter. Now, I'm not math scientist, but she didn't sound four years old to me... which means she must've been born before we broke up." He chuckled. "Funny, I-I don't remember fathering any kids. Must've been one of those memory lapses."

Sam had moved off the couch during Michael's rambling. She was standing behind me, her breasts against my back, and I felt her hands on my stomach. I leaned into her, grateful for the support. The official lie was that Cassie was my niece and I was caring for her after my sister's death. Michael, however, knew that my sister had no children. He'd met her time and again during the charade called our marriage. "She's not yours," I finally said. Sam's hands pressed more firmly against my abdomen.

"No shit, Janney. Who the hell were you screwing on the side?" The humor had left his voice. I almost physically flinched, expecting the gentle slap that usually accompanied this tone. Sam felt my response, pressing her lips to my free ear and inaudibly whispering something to me.

I flexed my fingers, curling them into a fist again. "She's adopted. Rest assured, as hard as it was, I stayed faithful to you throughout our marriage. Which is more than I can say about you."

"Excuse me for having needs, Janney." He knew how much I hated that name. I wanted to smash the phone, just for the release of ending this conversation. "But when a wife keeps her legs closed tighter than Fort Knox, well..."

One of Sam's hands trailed up to cup my breast. Her monologue continued, the soft words slowly cooling me off. I felt her lips moving against my earlobe, her hands gentle pressure on my stomach... "Why did you call me, Michael?"

"I want to get together. Talk. Maybe over dinner or something."

"No."

He chuckled. "C'mon, Janney, just to--"

"If you call me Janney one more fucking time--" Sam pulled me tighter, whispering shushing sounds in my ear. I took a breath. "My name is Janet," I told him, my voice even. "If you don't respect me enough to call me by my rightful name, you can call me Dr. Fraiser. I won't meet you for lunch or dinner or any other social event. This phone call is the end of our interaction on this leg of your journey. Good-bye, Michael. Please don't call again." I pulled the phone from my ear and hit disconnect hard enough to make the phone crack.

I turned myself around in Sam's arms, keeping our bodies in contact as my tears finally began to fall. Sam kissed me long and hard, her hands trailing down my back and under my blouse. I cried as her tongue danced with mine, her hands moving in a sensual massage against the warm skin of my back. She picked me up, allowing me to wrap my legs around her waist. I loved when she did that, but worried for her back... Scratch that, I told myself... This wasn't the time to be a doctor. She moved slowly, moving one hand to cup my ass before pressing me against the wall.

Brushing her hair out of her face, I whispered, "I hate him." My voice cracked and my tears poured freely. "I fucking hate the bastard."

Sam kissed my cheek just below my right eye, tasting the saltiness of my tears and washing it away with gentle strokes of her tongue. Kissing the tip of her nose, she said simply, "Love me."

We stripped out of our clothes, moving in jerking motions as I was practically hovering against the wall. She nestled her head on my collar, pressing her lips to the taut flesh that connected my neck to my shoulder. I felt her tongue dancing as she stepped out of her dropped jeans, allowing me to hook my bare legs around her waist. One of her hands was pressed against my lower back, holding me up as the other worked furiously to undo my hair.

I pulled her mouth to mine and hungrily devoured her lips, feeling the soft brush against my cheeks as my hair fell. Unlike Sam, I kept my hair a bit longer than most officers. My hair formed a curtain around our faces as we kissed, her hands already exploring my back. One arm slipped lower, finding my ass and sliding between my spread legs. I felt her fingers playfully darting around my slick folds, pretending they couldn't find entrance. I gasped against her cheek, my eyes involuntarily closing as she manipulated my sex.

I inadvertantly pinned her fingers when I thrustly against her abdomen, causing her to gasp in surprise. I fell back, my shoulders resting against the wall and supporting me. Sam leaned back as well and looked between our joined bodies. Biting her lower lip, she cupped my face before her fingers began their journey down my body. She curled a trail around both of my bare nipples, danced through my cleavage, playfully dipping in and out of my belly button before the pad of her thumb found my erect clitoris. She softly began to massage the tiny nub, looking up and into my eyes.

By sheer will alone, I managed to keep my eyes open as she worked her magic on my body. My jaw dropped and I knew my face was flushed. Finally, my orgasm crested. My body jerked against Sam's as I came, my eyes spilling still more tears. Sam cupped my face as my juices poured over her abdomen, then pulled me forward for a kiss. Gently, she laid me on the living room floor and draped herself across my body. With a single, searching kiss, I was ready for more.

She looked up at me and said, "Still mad about Michael calling?"

"Michael who?" I asked, running my fingers through her hair. When we made love again on the floor, Sam allowed me to give her pleasure before I let her think about touching me. Eventually, we moved upstairs and drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. Michael, the bastard ex that I was more than happy to leave behind, was no more than a distant memory.

Chapter Ten

Sam woke me in a rather rude manner, lightly kneeing me in the back. I rolled over, blinking into the darkness as I tried to see what the problem was. She was muttering quietly, her head rolling back and forth on the pillow. I gently touched her shoulder, shushing her and trying to get her to wake up. Her legs were still kicking under the blanket. I wrapped my arms around my lover, whispering into her ear until the tremors subsided. I kissed her earlobe and whispered, "Sam? Are you awake?"

"Yeah," she whispered. I could tell she had tears in her eyes and kept my head on her shoulder. She hated anyone seeing her cry. "I had that damned dream again."

I kissed the curve of her shoulder. "The elevator?"

She nodded, the motion causing her hair to brush against my cheek. "I couldn't get there fast enough, Janet. I was standing in that elevator, trying so hard to get to the bottom of the shaft and... I just couldn't get there. And the bomb killed Cassandra and it-it was all my fault."

"Cassie's alive, Sam," I assured her. "You got there. You saved her life."

She sniffled. "I know, Janet. I know."

We held each other for a little while longer and eventually fell asleep. This time, there were no dreams.

---

It started at exactly 1:10 PM. I had just looked up at the clock, timing one of Sergeant Monroe's contractions. I scribbled the 1310 on my clipboard, telling the expectant mother that she should have her child in her arms within an hour or two when the amazingly loud alarm klaxon began blaring in the hallway. The all-too familiar voice of Sergeant Davis over the intercom announced an unscheduled off-world traveler. I paused, holding my breath as I awaited those horrible words: Medical team to the Gate Room! I dropped everything, turning back to apologize to Monroe as I hurried to the door of the infirmary. I grabbed one of my nurses, telling her about the sergeant's condition before joining two other doctors in the elevator.

What did Sam tell me she was doing today? MALP analysis! She was on the base, as was the rest of SG-1. Of course, all that meant was that someone else was in danger, but I allowed myself to think clearly. No matter what the outcome, Sam wasn't in danger.

Level 28 was a warzone. The heavy doors to the Gate Room were closed tight, several SFs aiming their weapons at the doors as if they expected Godzilla to come through at any moment. More than a few looked annoyed that there was nothing to shoot at yet. I changed the direction of my dash at the last moment, leading my team up the steps into the Control Center. I was about to ask Hammond what the situation was when it became all-too clear. The scene was unfolding on the other side of the shatterproof glass in the Gate Room.

The Stargate was active, bathing the room in a soft, blue light. The iris was half-closed, frozen in the middle of locking in place. I could see one officer sprawled on the ramp, obviously unconscious, and another laying a few feet away across the yellow-and-black safety line painted onto the cement. A puddle of blood had formed below his body, most of it from his severed right leg. The limb was severed just below the knee. The other two members of the team were standing their ground, firing at the event horizon. Soon, I realized why.

Something flew from the Stargate, heading straight for it's enemies. The alien appeared to be some sort of gray-skinned bat. It had a fat, scaly body flanked by two wide, transparent wings. The wings were motionless long enough that I could tell they were comprised of thin flesh, veins visible to the naked eye. The most horrifying thing, though, were the tips of the wings; inch-long curved talons protruded from the end of the wing and a quick visual examination told me they weren't there for decoration. My heart beat a little faster at the sight of the alien creature.

The officers fired at the creature, all of their shots missing due to the it's erratic flight pattern. The alien's awful screech filtered through the intercom, making my blood run cold.

I recognized the men that were still standing; Captain Alan Coleman and Sergeant Travis Kitch, both members of SG-10. I had cleared them both for duty just a few short hours ago. That meant that the two out-of-commission officers were Major Michael Tompkins and Colonel James Hill.

Another creature broke through the event horizon and dive-bombed the unsuspecting Captain. The talons on the alien bat's wings came down with lightning-quick speed, piercing the black vest he wore and digging into the soft flesh of Coleman's shoulders. Coleman fell to his knees, his screams sounding through the intercom and making me shudder. I felt so utterly useless, knowing that the most I could do was watch and wait to patch up the survivors once this debacle was over. Kitch turned away from the first monster, firing at the one attacking his teammate. Kitch's bullets tore into the alien, causing it to release Coleman and soar towards the ceiling of the room. Coleman collapsed in agony.

For a moment, I considered how the bugs must have felt; they're minding their own business on their own world when these people come out of nowhere and disturb their peace. Then, a portal opens and they're transported to what amounts to a birdcage, trapped by people shooting to kill. I was about to feel sorry for their plight when I caught a glimpse of Coleman's bloody back. I remembered his wife and the child that had been born just a few months ago. I immediately began praying they would destroy the bastard bugs. I turned to Hammond as an excuse to look away from the carnage.

"The iris," I asked, my voice frail as I heard the battle raging a few feet away. "Why can't the iris..."

"Major Tompkins came through before the iris code was fully received. It was only partially open before he came through. He was lucky he was running and only his right leg impacted the iris. Unfortunately, the impact caused the mechanics to freeze and we can't fully open or close it."

"And you can't shut it down because it's an incoming wormhole."

He nodded the affirmative. I turned back to the battle, reluctant to see how it turned out.

Kitch had assumed a defensive pose, standing in front of Coleman's limp form. He was the last man standing. The two aliens had flown to opposite sides of the ceiling, perched where they could keep an eye on their surroundings. The scaled plating of their bodies had been torn and each bled a gross, white goo. The bat to my left was shuddering as it attempted to breath; for a moment, I entertained the thought that it couldn't survive in Earth's environment. But, if that were true, the planet wouldn't have been safe for SG-10's mission.

I could see Sergeant Kitch's back as he turned his gun on the first alien, then slowly shifted to the second. He had a truly awful choice to make now; whichever one he didn't attack would surely have a momentary advantage. It was a Mexican standoff. And when I thought it couldn't get any worse...

From the corner of my eye, I spotted the door sliding open a bit. Not much, but enough to allow a person in. Or allow a means of escape for a winged beast from whatever hellworld the Stargate was connected to this time. I turned slightly, forcing myself not to gasp when I saw who entered the room.

Samantha Carter, you reckless bitch... get out of there!

She didn't hear my mental shout and I again cursed my lack of ESP. The door slid shut again, apparently being manipulated by hand. She eyed the creature in the corner and lowered herself into a crouch, pulling a small handgun from her belt. She was speaking to Kitch now, her voice too low for me to hear over the speakers. The aliens were twitching; they sensed something was up but apparently couldn't process the danger. Sam was a sharpshooter; it would be a challenge for her to take them both out, but with Kitch helping...

My lover slowly stood, raising the hand with the gun as she eyed the alien on the right. Kitch followed suit, slowly backing up until his shoulder touched Sam's. I almost cried as I realized he was touching the same shoulder I had rested my head on after her nightmare... the shoulder I had kissed to calm her. Please, Sam, don't make a mistake.

Two guns were ready. Two creatures hung motionless in opposite corners of the room. Finally, I heard Sam's voice through the tinny speakers. "Now!" I forced myself to watch, preparing for the inevitable worse-case scenario.

She and Kitch opened fire at once. Kitch's bullets missed the creature, allowing it to dive to the floor and swoop back up to the ceiling. He fired again, nicking the creature's tissue-like wings and causing it to lurch in mid-air. Sam hit her creature once, dead center. It squealed loudly, causing me to raise one hand to my ear as I watched the body plummet. Sam raced up the ramp, perching over where the creature had fallen and keeping her gun trained on it. The creature Kitch had fired at raced wildly around the ceiling, lapping the perimeter of the room.

Kitch was still firing, but he was nowhere near the marksman Sam was. She raised her gun, steadied her shot and fired. The creature swooped to the side, causing her bullet to miss it's mark. She ducked, spinning and trying to lock onto the target. It rose, dropped and flew to one side, chirping relentlessly. Sam fired again, but this one was far too fast. It was like a bat on speed. Suddenly, it flew into high arc and dive-bombed the floor. Sam targeted it and fired once, knocking the creature backward. It jerked slightly, hitting the wall where I could no longer see it.

Sam approached slowly, with Kitch watching her six. She was about a foot away from where I assumed the creature had landed when the Gate Room was filled with an inhuman shriek. The first bat, the one Sam had shot initially, was back in action, albeit with a torn abdomen. White blood dripped from it's torso like an open faucet. Kitch turned and opened fire. Sam, distracted, turned her back on the other creature. Like a bad horror movie, the second bat reappeared and latched onto the back of Sam's blue jumpsuit. Coleman had been fortunate enough to be wearing a flak jacket when the creature latched onto him; Sam was not so lucky. Deep claws dug into her shoulders, holding her tight. Sam's screams echoed through the intercom, shaking me to my core.

Like the end of a John Wayne movie, Teal'c appeared in the door, using one hand to force the door open while the other held a zat'nik'atel. He set his jaw in a firm line, assessing the situation.

The bat that had screeched and distracted Sam was still sprawled on the floor, jerking and trying to get airborne. It's right wing was shredded. Kitch approached it, stepping on it's thorax with his boot and keeping the gun aimed at the head. Teal'c pivoted, steadying the zat on Sam's writhing body.

'Please, don't let him hurt Sam...' I pleaded. He fired once and blue lightning coursed over Sam's body. Her knees buckled, her entire body going limp and collapsing. The bat also jerked as the blast coursed through it's body. Sam fell, the creature stunned along with her.

Teal'c then pushed past Kitch and walked to a control panel on the far side of the Gate Room. He flung the metal door open and pulled a lever. Power was diverted from the Stargate and the blue glow vanished. Kitch fell to one knee, his entire body going limp and the gun dropping from his hand.

It took me a moment to realize the immediate emergency was over; now it was my turn. I rushed down the stairs, already screaming orders at my medics. They moved like well-oiled machines to the two unconscious members of SG-10. I hurried to Sam's side, dropping to my knees and grimacing in pain as they scraped the pavement. From the corner of my eye, I saw two of the medics kneeling by Tompkins and tending to his severed leg.

I resisted to urge to kiss Sam and tell her it would be all right as I gingerly prodded the bat's body. I wanted to determine whether I could remove it from her without causing more damage. I fumbled in my med kit for a pair of scissors and cut away her jumpsuit, tearing the t-shirt underneath and spreading the material with my fingers. Sam's blood smeared across my thumb and it took all my will not to break down then and there.

Forcing myself to become Dr. Fraiser and not Just Janet, I looked at the wounds from an entirely clinical point of view. The talons the creature had used to grab hold of her were long and curved; the skin around the entry points had already become purple and swollen. It would probably take surgery to get the damn thing free. Sam's eyes fluttered open as she regained consciousness. Her lips parted and she gasped loudly, the pain in her back registering. I placed my cool hand against her cheek and said, "We're going to help you, Sam... just sit still. Everything will be fine."

Tompkins was being loaded onto a gurney by one of my nurses. His lower right leg was completely gone, the wound bleeding badly. This was a situation I had never hoped to face; Sam was in unbearable pain, but another man was bleeding to death. So help me, I wanted to help Sam more than I wanted to save Tompkin's life. I stroked her hair, then looked down at her and whispered, "You're going to be all right, Sam. Warner will help you."

"Wa-Warner?" Sam whispered. Her voice was hoarse. "But... Janet..."

I stood and strode purposefully away from her prone form. I followed Tompkin's gurney from the room, yelling ahead at someone to get the doors to the elevator open. Behind me, I heard Sam's plaintive moan as someone else began examining her.

---

I stripped off my bloody gloves, tossing them into the trash and walking quickly out of Operating Room One. There was no hope of reattaching Tompkins' leg; it had been destroyed upon impacting the iris. I had closed the wound, created a flap and closed the wound. SG-10 would need a new member, maybe two if things didn't improve for Colonel Hill. He was hurt bad, apparently the first victim of the sneak attack on PCX-543. They had disturbed the bat's nest and gotten momma and daddy bat pissed off.

I found a new set of rubber gloves, pulling on a surgical mask before I entered the sterile environment of the second OR. Sam was laying face down on the table, her jumpsuit gone and replaced by a gown. Warner and the medics hadn't bothered to close the back of the gown, their attention entirely focused on her upper back and the now-deceased alien bug that was attached there. Sam's panty-clad rear-end was sticking out, free for anyone to view. I carefully approached the table, lifting the two halves and tying them together. Her modesty restored, I moved to the head of the bed.

Sam was awake, but apparently under general anesthesia, her blue eyes glassy as I approached her. She recognized me, forcing a weak smile as she tried to ignore the painless pressure of the scalpel manipulating the flesh of her back. I smiled at her, knowing the gesture was useless behind my mask. "How's she doing?" I asked.

Warner barely looked up from his work. "She'll be fine. The creature is under a heavy dose of sedative and hopefully won't wake up for another hour... we gave it enough juice to keep an elephant unconscious until the Fourth of July."

Sam weakly asked, "Why woul' you wanna elephant unconscious until the Fourth of July?"

I smiled and said, "Looks like her sense of humor wasn't injured. And besides, it's not necessary; the bug is dead."

Warner looked up, his eyes registering genuine surprise. "Well. Looks like we could've used some of the anaesthesia for you after all, Captain Carter."

I chuckled, then the situation lost all humor. I made the mistake of looking from her face to Warner's hands and had to stifle a gasp. He had cut a slit from the bottom of the creature's talon to the bottom of the bulge it created. Red blood - Sam's blood - was pooling weakly around his tools, cleaned every few seconds by a quick nurse. Warner snipped something and the first talon came loose. "Okay, one down... two to go."

"Two?" I asked, looking at Warner's face to avoid looking at the surgical area. "I thought the creature only had two claws. One on each wing?"

He shook his head, using the scalpel to raise the creature and allow me to see Sam's lower back. I bent slightly, looking down to see a third hook protruding from what would have been called the thorax on an Earth bug. It was attached to Sam like an umbilical cord, apparently attached to her spine. I straightened and asked, "Is... she going to be all right?"

Nodding, he smiled, "She'll be better than fine, Dr. Fraiser. All three wounds were to the subcutaneous; the only result will be a little, if any, scarring if she takes care of herself right. I assume you'll be keeping an eye on her treatment?"

"I'll watch her like a hawk, Dr. Warner," I promised him. Maybe this could get us a reprieve on Sam's eviction... "Oh," I sighed, realizing my plans for the night were shot. "I guess she won't be able to join me for dinner tonight, huh?"

He raised his head slightly, then shrugged. "Sure, she can... as long as dinner consists of Jello and ice chips."

Sam's right eye fluttered. "Jello?"

I groaned. "You're her new favorite doctor; making Jello doctor's orders. But... we kind of had plans to have dinner with my neighbors tonight."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'd like to recommend that she stay here overnight for observation."

"I know... that's what I would do," I admitted. "Thanks anyway. I'll just have to find someone else to keep me company." I stroked Sam's cheek and said, "Take care of her for me, Doctor. I need to check on the rest of SG-10 before heading out." Turning back to my lover, I promised, "I'll stop by and see how you're doing before I leave."

She nodded weakly. As I headed out of the operating room, I heard Warner say, "Two down. Let's get to work on this third one and see if we can wrap this up." The doors swung closed and I turned. Sam was watching me through the glass. I pressed my hand to the glass and mouthed 'I love you' to her. She smiled, appearing to be half-asleep. Finally, I turned and walked away, heading back to the infirmary to check on Colonel Hill.

---

James Hill was sitting up, glaring at the wall across from his bed when I arrived. I smiled, checking the monitors at his bedside before I spoke. "Hello, Colonel. How are you feeling?"

He didn't answer; his steely gaze was fixed on an electrical outlet a few feet away. His jaw was working furiously, the tendons in his neck straining as if they wanted to escape. He had balled his fists up, clutching the blanket that was draped across his lap. Trying to gauge his mental condition, I repeated my question. Finally, he turned to look at me and hissed, "How am I feeling? I'm feeling like I walked my team into a goddamned trap is how I'm feeling." His gaze quickly shifted and one of his hands came up to brush his face. Colonel's don't cry.

"You couldn't have known," I reassured him.

He turned back to me. "I'm supposed to know. They put their asses in my hands and I'm not smart enough to know a nest when I see one." He was quickly losing control. I raised my hand, subtly alerting a medic that I might need help. Alex, one of my favorite medics, approached and stood a few feet away. "They were countin' on me and I get KOed hitting my damn head on the damn ramp. How's Tompkins doin'?"

Did he know about the Major's injury? Using my best 'doctor-giving-bad-news' voice, I reported, "Major Tompkins' leg was severed just below the knee; he impacted the iris coming through the Stargate."

Hill's eyes were glossy, a single tear breaking free. He muttered a few curses, then slapped his bed. I jumped, half-expecting the blow to be directed at me rather than the mattress. Before I could react, he threw the blankets off and rolled off the bed. He was still in his hospital gown, his eyes determined as he separated himself from the machines that surrounded the bed. The heart monitor flat-lined as he disconnected it. I stepped in front of him, signalling Alex to come closer. Alex put one hand on each of Hill's beefy shoulders and I calmly said, "Colonel, I think you should get back in the bed and allow us to monitor you."

"Like hell," he grimaced, trying to push past me. Alex held him back, trying to direct the bigger man to the bed. Hill managed to slip away from the medic and grabbed Alex's wrist, twisting it painfully. I had a choice; I could go to the wallphone and call for security or try to help Alex.

I lurched forward, wrapping my hands around Hill's forearm and trying to pull him free. I shouted over my shoulder for an airman, any airman, and tried in vain to weaken the colonel's vice-like grip. Using his free hand, Hill pushed me away, then turned and punched Alex in the face. The medic fell backward, sprawled on the bed that Hill had recently vacated. I regrouped just as the large colonel picked me up like I was a doll and hurled me at the wall. I screamed, hitting the wall before I could do anything to protect myself. The pain was unbelievable; my left arm felt like it had been ripped from the socket.

Slowly, I uncurled my body and managed to sit up, holding my arm to my side. Colonel Hill surged through the infirmary, no one in sight to stop him before he got to the OR. I managed to climb to my feet and pursued him on shaky knees. As he walked, his hospital gown billowed open to reveal his bare back. His shoulderblades were marked by two irregular incisions, an identical injury at the base of his spine. I had seen them during his initial exam, but had assumed he had been shot by some sort of projectile weapon on PCX-543. Now, after seeing Sam, I knew the truth: He had been attacked by one of the hell bats and somehow gotten loose before coming through the Gate.

Why hadn't anyone told us that Colonel Hill had been attacked? I realized suddenly that I had very little knowledge of what had happened on the planet; Kitch was in the briefing room with the rest of SG-1 and General Hammond. If they only knew that the story wasn't over.

I reached Hill just as he was about to go into the OR. Using one of the dirty tricks my brother had taught me, I rushed forward and kicked the back of his knee. He crumbled, immediately turning and glaring at me. "Stupid bitch," he hissed. "I killed those men, the least I can do is see their bodies." He rose quickly, launching himself at me.

Out of habit, I raised my left arm to protect myself, a fresh jolt of pain coursing through me. He grabbed it and twisted it to one side, sending a bolt of searing pain up my arm. I yelped, dropping to my knees. Hill took advantage of my disadvantage and pushed my back against the wall, wrapping his free hand around my throat and lifting me. His fingers tightened as I was lifted off the ground, my high heels hovering an inch above the ground. Tears came to my eyes as I kicked futilely at him.

Suddenly, Colonel Hill was enveloped in a wave of blue. I, by merely being in contact with him, also felt my first sting of the zat. The point where it first contacted my skin tingled like a tiny electrical surge, quickly spreading over my body. I felt every hair from my head to my toes burning as I fell to the ground, my mind reeling and my eyes unable to focus on anything in particular. Everything was bathed in a cerulean hue. The blue volts passed over my body, tingling following the wave of the weapon blast. I trembled involuntarily as I tried to push myself into a sitting position. For a moment, I couldn't feel the floor beneath my ass or the wall behind my back. For a moment, I wondered if my hair was standing on end. The tears in my eyes had evaporated from the zat'nik'atel shot.

My vision slowly began to swim into focus and I locked onto the face of an airman from security. He was checking my pupils, softly asking, "Are you all right, Dr. Fraiser?" His voice was muffled in my ears.

I nodded slowly, putting my hand to my forehead and wondering what the hell it would feel like to be shot twice. I quickly decided I really didn't want to know.

---

Jack O'Neill smirked. "Well, looks like you're one of us, Doc."

I frowned, my head still pounding. Why didn't anyone ever mention the hangover they got from being shot with a zat? I shook my head slowly, placing two fingers against my temple. "Sir?"

I had been ordered to the briefing room to fill General Hammond in on this recent change to the situation. SG-1 was still there, of course, as was Sergeant Kitch. Jack O'Neill elaborated, "Some folks say you haven't really earned your SGC stripes until you've been hit with a zat." He leaned forward. "So... You got the headache?"

"God, yes," I muttered.

The General interrupted us. "Doctor, do you believe that Colonel Hill poses a danger to anyone else?"

"No, Sir," I managed to grunt. "We were able to determine that the bug that attched itself to Colonel Hill injected him with some kind of toxin. While the toxin wasn't fatal, it caused a reaction in him; it threw him into a highly emotional state... maybe even to the point of wanting to commit suicide. We think we got the majority of the venom out, but I would still like to suggest weekly meetings with Dr. MacKenzie until further notice. The feelings may have been a result of a poison, but he still harbors feelings that he is to blame for his team's... bad luck."

General Hammond nodded. "I agree. I'll keep him in the holding cell until we can get a few of those sessions underway."

"Holding cell?" I asked. "Is that necessary, Sir?"

He nodded once. "Yes, Doctor, I believe it is. The colonel's tirade and subsequent attack may have been the result of a foreign element, but he still injured two of my medical officers. It's noble for him to be concerned for his team's well-being, but when he went from concerned to malignant... that's when I have a problem."

"Malignant?"

"He tried to throttle you, Doctor. He nearly broke the nose of an orderly. I'd call that malignant. It's hard to tell what would've happened if that medic hadn't alerted security. As of right now, Colonel Hill is considered a threat to the people of this base and will remain in the holding cell until further notice. Is there anything else?"

I raised a finger. "Actually, Sir... I'd like to speak to Sergeant Kitch about the events on PCX-543, if I could."

He stood. "Agreed. As for the rest of you, you're dismissed."

SG-1 followed the General from the room, leaving me with Kitch. The Sergeant still looked a little shell-shocked, his eyes wide and his complexion pale. "Sergeant, I'd like to know what happened on the other world."

He cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the seat. Finally, he began speaking. "It was just like every other world we've been to; trees... lots of trees. Coleman moved towards the treeline about... about ninety yards from the Stargate platform and indicated that he'd found a food source. We approached, expecting to gather a sample of the local food for study. Instead, it turns that the food we were raiding was apparently in one of those fucking bat's refrigerators. They attacked us for stealing their stuff and we tried to high-tail it back to Earth." He sniffed. "Fuckin' Tompkins didn't bother to wait for me to finish the GDO code, so he got his damned leg cut off." He sniffed. "Colonel Hill brought up the rear; yelled something about being hit but I never saw anything on 'im."

I lightly touched Kitch's shoulder. "You've been through a rough time," I told him softly. "I'd like to recommend a session with Dr. MacKenzie, just to talk out what happened. It'll make you feel a lot better."

He nodded. "I'd like that," he whispered.

I smiled reassuringly and stood, allowing him to leave. Alone in the briefing room, I dropped back into my seat and allowed the events of the day to sink in. Daniel knew about my relationship with Sam. Sam was being operated on a few levels above me. My left arm was throbbing gently, but I had determined it wasn't broken. Major Tompkins was probably going to be reassigned to a desk job. Colonel Hill was in holding for attacking me. Kitch was in shock and probably wouldn't be of any use on an SG team for a long, long time. Coleman had been sent to the USAF Hospital and the prognosis was good. During one, run-of-the-mill mission to a seemingly idyllic world, SG-10 had been ripped assunder.

Looking at my watch, I saw that I was due at Abigail's house in two hours for dinner. I sighed and put my head down on the table, resting my eyes for just a second or two.

Chapter Eleven

About a second after I closed my eyes, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. Another hand rested just below the base of my neck and softly rubbed through the material of my blouse. I whimpered, rolling my head on my arms and reluctantly opened my eyes. "Dr. Fraiser?" General Hammond asked, his voice soft. "Are you okay?"

I sat up, bringing my hands to my eyes. "Fine. I'm fine... what time is it?"

"A little after seven."

Quickly, I stood and blinked away my fatigue. "Shit," I whispered, immediately regretting my choice of words. "Um, Sir, may I be excused?"

He smiled and nodded his head once. "But you should probably head by the infirmary before leaving the mountain. Captain Carter woke up and has been asking for you. Everyone who's been in the Med Center since she woke up has been enlisted to search the base until you're found."

I allowed myself a tired smile. "I'll go there right away, Sir. I just... have to make a phone call first."

We went our separate ways, my mission being to find an outgoing phone. I was supposed to be at Abigail's at six-thirty. I found a phone in Daniel's office (which was vacant) and sat down, pushing aside several in-progress translations as I tried to recall the Tierney's number. After two rings, the strong voice of Abigail's husband filled my ear. "Tierney residence, this is David speaking."

"Please, David, don't be mad... This is Janet Fraiser."

He chuckled and said, "Great... Abigail can call off the state troopers. She's certain you're upside down in a ditch."

"That might be an improvement," I sighed. "She's not too mad, is she?"

"No, no, not at all. In fact, she was running a little late getting dinner ready anyway. Will you still be coming?"

I looked at the clock. "Hopefully. It might be eight before I can get there, though. And I'll be alone this evening."

"Ah, that's too bad. I was looking forward to meeting the mysterious blonde that lives across the street." There was a sharp snap that sounded like a slap over the phone line. "Ow! It's not flirting! It's being neighborly! Jealous..." The last word was muttered and followed by a second slap. I heard Abigail laughing over the phone line.

I couldn't help but smile. "Of course, if I'll be walking into the middle of a domestic dispute..."

"We'll push back dinner until you get here. It's not often we have guests. And besides, Abby never abuses me when we have company."

"Good. I'll see you around eight, then. I hope I didn't ruin your plans."

Another slap and this time it was David laughing. "Not at all. We'll see you at eight, Janet. I have to hang up, she's chasing me."

He dropped the phone and I heard them scuffling in the kitchen. After a moment, Abigail picked up and said, "Janet? Janet, you still there?"

"I'm here."

"Later tonight, you want to help me move a dead body? It won't be hard, David is very light." The last word was cut off sharply as Abigail screamed into the receiver, her torturous yells soon changing into laughter. "I'll see you when you get here, 'kay? We can make David eat at the children's table."

"Sounds good," I said, then telling them good-bye before hanging up the phone. I stared at the receiver for a moment, wondering if Sam and I would ever get to the point in our relationship where we could be that playful with each other in public. It was probably nothing but a pipe dream; if word of our love ever got out to the general public, our jobs and reputations would both be ruined. Cassandra could forget about a regular school life. I sighed and brushed my hand through my hair. My neck was impossibly stiff and I felt like I had been used for batting practice by the Colorado Rockies' starting line-up.

I reluctantly stood, turning off the lights in Daniel's office before heading to the infirmary to see my lover.

---

Three empty glasses stood on the nightstand next to the bed. On the tray that could be maneuvered over the patient's body stood two more empty glasses. Sam was laying limply beneath the blankets, her blonde hair fanning around her face like a halo. Her mouth was open slightly, her tongue peeking out. Though the infirmary was almost deserted, I still pulled the curtain shut around the bed as an extra precaution. I stroked Sam's forehead, then chastely kissed her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me, smiling weakly. "Hi," she croaked.

"You're a Jello fiend," I told her, indicating the empty glasses with my head. I pulled a stool close and sat, taking hold of her hand and gently squeezing it. I was so relieved she was okay.

"Doctor's orders," she said. "Warner told me I could eat Jello. But maybe, if someone else had been my doctor--"

I looked down at her hand. "That wasn't an option, Sam. Tompkins was in much worse shape than you were; his life was in danger. I'm the chief medical officer. I had to hand your surgery over to Warner." I pressed my lips together. "You understand, right?" I whispered. "Sam, I can't be making exceptions for you because... because of our relationship."

She nodded weakly, then looked up at my face. "Are you mad at me?"

"You think I'm mad at you because I handed you to Warner?"

"No, not that... I... You look like you're mad at me. Did I do something wrong?"

I didn't want to answer this question. I thought about lying to her, hiding my anger until I was over it. I reassuringly squeezed her hand, then said, "Yes, Sam. As a matter of fact, I'm furious at you." I felt the tears in my eyes and I sniffed, willing them away. I didn't want to cry. "Why the hell did you go into that Gate Room? What the hell did you want to accomplish?"

"I wanted to save SG-10," she said simply.

Standing, keeping her hand in mine, I said, "Did you have to take such a damn fool risk? There were... a dozen trigger happy airmen waiting in the hallway that could've gone in. Teal'c was apparently ready to go when you were injured. God, Sam, what were you thinking?"

Her voice was firm, but quiet. She still didn't know if we were alone in the infirmary. "I was thinking there was a team in danger. I was thinking that someone strong, like Teal'c, needed to stay in the hall to close the door behind me so the bats didn't escape. I was thinking that I could've sent in two dozen airmen to shoot at the walls, but none of them were as well-trained as I was. Janet, I'm an expert marksman. A couple of those airmen have probably never fired their rifle in a life-or-death situation. You saw a bunch of combat-ready soldiers; I saw the sweaty upper lips and the nervous eyes. I was the best choice.

"You're trying to execute a double standard here," she pointed out. "You realize that, right? You can toss me over to Warner for surgery, but I have to make exceptions for you in combat. That won't work, Janet."

I closed my eyes, touching her hand. She was right; I wasn't expecting it to be so hard, though. "Looks like this was a test, huh? See if we were really ready for a separation of business and pleasure. I guess you are," I smiled. "You did what you had to do without thinking. I was the one who almost put us at risk; I wanted so badly to forget about Tompkins and stay by your side. I even thought about shooting you in the leg so I could justify working on you." I chuckled and, to my relief, so did she. "But you... you put aside all thought of romance and did what had to be done. I envy that."

"You don't think I was scared stiff? Janet, I wasn't as brave as you think I was. I was thinking about you the entire time; praying that those damn bats didn't get their claws in you. That's why I was so gung-ho about destroying them." She blinked, her eyes staying closed for more than a few minutes. When they finally opened again, she looked up at me, dazed. "What'd they give me?"

I glanced at the chart. "Just a sedative. It'll help you sleep through the night." I kissed her forehead and then, throwing caution to the wind, kissed her lips. She clung to me, whimpering when I pulled away. I stroked her face and whispered, "I'll see you bright and early in the morning. Okay?"

"The dinner party," she whispered. "We were s'posed..."

"You're sitting this one out. I called and told them already." I kissed her cheek and rose, straightening her blankets. "Sweet dreams, Sam. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll miss you," she whispered, already drifting off. I smiled down at her, wishing I could justify sleeping in the next bed, then slipped into the hallway leading to my office. After a few incidents involving projectile vomiting and the various errands I had to run after long shifts, I had started keeping extra outfits in a closet in my office. If memory served, there was a silk blouse and some slacks that would be appropriate for a casual dinner. But unless I wanted to show up at Abigail's house in uniform, I had to change quickly.

---

Abigail had left the porch light on for me. I pulled into my driveway, checking my make-up in the mirror before opening the door. By the time I reached the middle of the street, the door of my neighbor's house was open and Cassandra was starting down the walkway. I waved to her, kneeling and holding my arms out to capture the ball of energy that I called my daughter. Her tiny arms wrapped tightly around me and she said, "I missed you. Where's Sam?"

"Sam got a little hurt today, honey." I leaned back to look into her eyes. "She's fine, she just got into a little fight. We can talk about it later, if you want."

She nodded, then wrapped her fingers around my hand. "C'mon. Emily's mom cooked something that smells *really* good and she said we couldn't eat until you got here."

By the time we reached the porch, David had appeared in the doorway. He waved, waiting until I got onto the porch and Cassie was back inside before speaking. "Abby was kinda worried about you guys," he admitted. "After she hung up, she started thinking maybe there was a big... I don't know." He shrugged his big shoulders. "Is everything okay?"

"Just fine," I assured him. "There was an incident at the base today, but nothing terribly major." I sighed, looking past him and into the house. "And Cassandra was right; something *does* smell great."

He stepped aside and held the door open, sweeping his hand towards the interior. I stepped inside, examining the entry hall. I realized that, for all the times Cassie had stayed here after school, I had never seen the inside of the house. No wonder she didn't mind staying here; it was gorgeous! Framed paintings dotted the entry hall, which was illuminated by a small, hanging lantern. I stepped into the living room, eyeing the furniture that was either very expensive or very deceiving. Either way, everything looked to be extremely comfortable.

The mantle over the fireplace on the backwall was decorated with six tiny clown figurines. Each one seemed to have a function and tied in with the others; one was a ringmaster, another a shaking lion tamer and another sticking out of a cannon. I stepped closer, eyeing the figurines, then said, "Who's the clown lover?"

"Ah, the clowns. That's my Abby," he explained. "There's a whole room of the stuff that I'm sure she'll love to show you."

I nodded. "That would be great. But, ah... could it be after dinner?"

He laughed and nodded, sticking a hand into his pocket. "The kitchen is this way." I followed him through a swinging door and immediately felt underdressed. The table was covered with a lace tablecloth, which by itself would've outdone me at most dinner parties. There were six places set, four crystal wine glasses and two smaller glasses that were obviously for Cass and Emily. Nervously, I fingered one of the buttons on my blouse.

Abigail entered from a swinging door opposite us, carrying a large covered tray. She smiled when she saw me, raising her eyebrows as she had no hands free for a wave. "Hey, Janet! Glad you could make it! Is everything okay at the-the mountain?"

I nodded, smiling. "Yeah... everything's fine. Sam... had a little accident, but she'll be fine in no time." I eyed her dress and jewelry, immediately picturing the outfit Sam had presented me with in Boulder. "You know, if I could just run home and change, I think I have something that would be better suited for--"

David chuckled, then said, "I wouldn't hear of it, Janet. What you're wearing is just fine." He winked at his wife and said, "Abby tends to get a little overdressed for dinner."

I approached the table, still feeling out of place and rested my hands on the back of one chair. "This is all... magnificent. And your house! My God, I kind of thought every house on this block had... had basically the same layout. But this place is beautiful!"

"Well, thank you," David smiled, bowing. "That would be my doing. We've been remodeling since Emily was born."

"Since before, actually," Abigail teased. I followed her into the kitchen to help her with whatever needed doing. She picked up a tray and handed me a bottle of wine and a carton of juice for the kids. As I read the label on the wine, she explained, "When I got pregnant with Em, he kinda felt like he wasn't doing anything productive. So he built a nursery. And the nursery felt out of place, so he added a small den. And then there was no need for a bookcase in the living room, so he tore it out and replaced it with..." she rolled her eyes and smiled. "It's best we don't get into it. It's a real vicious cycle."

We headed back into the dining room where David was nibbling on something. He looked up, genuine fear in his eyes when he saw Abigail, then dropped his hand to the table. "Hi, honey," he smiled.

Abigail squinted at him, then said, "You're worse than Emily when it comes to snacking."

He chuckled and said, "Speaking of which, why don't I go grab her?" He stood, quickly tossing a chunk of chicken into his mouth as he retreated into the living room.

Abigail winked at me and indicated the still-swinging door that David had used for his quick retreat. "I love having him trained."

I picked up a lettuce leaf from one of the salads and raised an eyebrow. "If only they came pre-taught," I muttered, thinking of the bastard I had ended up married to.

---

Clowns surrounded me. Happy clowns, sad clowns, clowns on bicycles and clowns on tricycles. There was a life-sized clown holding plastic balloons that were attached to the ceiling by fishing wire. Stuffed clowns and porcelain clowns, clowns carved with immaculate detail and clowns chopped out of a piece of driftwood. There was a squirting flower, giant shoes, an autographed photo of Bozo the Clown. There were clowns on the wallpaper dancing a jig, there were clown puppets hanging from their strings in the corners of the room. Two large chairs shaped like clowns flanked a table bearing a chess board with clown pieces.

I slowly turned, taking in the room, finally locking onto Abigail once more. She was smiling, awaiting my approval. Quietly, I asked, "Did you ever see 'The Shining'? The part where... Danny went into the room and saw the ghost in the bathtub?" I pointed at the marionettes. "This is infinitesimally less disturbing..."

Abigail laughed, stepping into the room and reverently touching one of the stuffed dolls. "When I was a kid, my daddy went on business trips. Whenever he'd return, he would have a new clown doll for me."

"Was his work related to the circus?"

She shook her head, smiling. "No. The woman he was dating on the side was a clown." She turned, smiling broadly. "Didn't stop me from liking them, though. I was already hooked when my parents got a divorce."

I was completely thrown by her revelation, trying to hide my discomfort by eyeing the clown chess board. I touched the king, a clown with a stove-pipe hat, and finally said, "Maybe you could add my ex-husband to your collection. He's the biggest clown I know."

Abigail laughed loudly, moving to the lifesized clown. "What about you, Janet? What do you collect?"

I sighed. "Mostly regrets... and memories. But now that I have Cassandra in my life, I think I'll have a few more happy things to look back on." Not to mention I now had the love of my life, I mentally added. I wondered if I should reveal my relationship to Abigail. She seemed open enough to the idea; plus, I would probably have to explain the sleepovers Sam would soon be having once she moved out. "Now that I know about this little obsession, I'll be sure to keep my eye out for things to add. I can always seem to find something while on vacation."

"I'd like that," she said softly. Raising her eyebrows, she said, "So, was dinner satisfactory?"

I patted my stomach, which was completely stuffed. "More than satisfactory, Abigail. If this was a restaurant, I'd make sure all my friends knew about it."

She almost blushed, turning away to examine a wooden clown. "Well. Should we look forward to having Cassie's company tomorrow?"

I nodded. "I'll probably be at the base until late, due to Sam's injury."

"Injury? What happened there, anyway?" She quickly added, "I mean, if it's not... you know, classified."

"Not at all," I said. "There was a little accident in the lab. A beaker exploded and a few shards managed to cut her back. She'll be just fine, though. Sometimes I wish something classified would happen... That mountain is boring as hell sometimes." All right, I told myself. Don't oversell yourself here.

Abigail nodded. "I guess this ends the tour."

"Right," I agreed, already heading to the door. "I owe you one dinner and one house tour. Just give me a little warning so I can tidy up the house."

Abigail laughed. "Oh, please! I'd be overjoyed to walk into your house and see a pile of junk in the middle of the floor. At least there'd be something bad about you." She patted my shoulder as we headed down the stairs. I called to Cassandra from the hallway, immediately hearing her footsteps from the direction of the living room. Abigail hugged me, promising that we would get together more often, then said, "I'm glad to have you as a neighbor, Janet."

Cassandra entered and took my hand. "I think we've bothered you enough for one night, Abigail. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," she nodded, waving good-bye to Cassie. "And please... only my clients call me Abigail. Call me Abby."

I nodded, smiling. "Will do, Abby."

She shut the door and, a few seconds later, hit the porch light. Cass and I turned, walking down the driveway and into the street (after looking both ways, of course). We were halfway to the front door of my house, my hand buried in my purse in search of the keys, when out of the blue Cassie said simply, "I'm not twelve anymore."

I glanced sideways at her. "Oh? Well, what are you then?"

"Thirteen," she said.

Her eyes were tired and she was fighting a yawn. I paused, kneeling in front of her. "Cassandra? You had a birthday?" A slow nod. "When, honey?"

"Last weekend, I think. I haven't really been keeping track." She looked like all she wanted was a big, comfy bed.

"Honey!" I said, shocked. "Honey, why didn't you tell us it was your birthday? We... we would've thrown a party!"

She glanced at me. "Why?"

I smiled. "Well... it's something we do here. We celebrate our birthdays with a party and cake and presents. We invite all our friends to the party, we laugh and have a wonderful time and... well, we just celebrate ourselves. It gives everyone a chance to be the center of attention once a year, you see."

"Presents?" she asked. She hadn't heard a single other word out of my mouth.

I pursed my lips and nodded. "Yes, presents. And a party. And cake and junk food and no chores all day. Now, don't you wish you had told us about your birthday?" She looked heartbroken and sadly nodded her head. I chuckled and kissed her cheek before I said, "Don't worry, honey. We'll put together a little party for you this weekend. Invite your friends from school - no more than ten - and we'll all have a good time in the back yard, okay? Tell everyone it's this Saturday."

"Saturday?" she said, her thrilled expression wavering. "That's Sam's last day here."

How in the hell had she heard about that? "Y-yes, I guess it is, sweetheart. But, hey, we can have two parties in one. A good-bye party for Sam and a birthday party for you. You and Sam would get to be the special girls for that day."

"Me and Sam both?" she asked, her eyes brightening. I couldn't help but smile. "Okay. This Saturday, ten friends."

"Just tell 'em it's a birthday party. Most kids your age have had... well, kids your age have had thirteen of them. Now," I tilted my head towards the door. "What do you say we get you into some jammies? It's late and it's a school night."

She obediently followed me upstairs, rejoicing when I said we could skip the bath, and allowed me to tuck her in. As I was checking her night light, she looked up at me and said, "Sam called today. She said that she wasn't going to be living here much longer. She said she had to move out."

"Yeah," I said, brushing my daughter's hair with my fingers. "She has to go back to her own house."

"That sucks," she said.

"Cassie!" I snapped. "That's not a nice word!" I mentally chided myself for more than likely using it in front of her several times. "Be more careful when you pick what you're going to say." I sighed, thanking the heavens that it had been the mildest of curses that she had chosen to utter. I could hardly imagine my reaction if my sweet little daughter had said the F-word. I kissed her forehead - both the mother and the doctor in me alarmed that it was about a temperature warmer than usual - and wished her good-night. I slipped out of the room, leaving the door open a crack to allow the hallway light in.

In my room, I listened to an old country singer named Keith Whiteley. After swaying an imaginary dance partner around the bedroom in my tank top and panties for a while, I settled in and read a few pages in my mystery novel. I sat up, clipping my toenails and carefully gathering the shavings and depositing them in the bathroom. That done, I pulled a uniform from the closet and hung it on the door, making sure it was ready for tomorrow. I eyed the make-up on the counter, rearranging a few of the bottles I never used and placing them towards the back. The sink was a mess and I spent a few more minutes cleaning it.

About an hour and a half after putting Cassandra to bed, I accepted what I was doing. I was loathe to return to my bed alone. It already felt wrong to be sleeping without Sam. I pulled the blankets back and quickly dove in, pulling the comforter up to my chin and closing my eyes. Sam didn't have to worry about this; Sam was on enough sedatives she probably didn't even remember my name. I sighed. Lucky Sam...

Finally, about fifteen minutes after climbing into bed, I went downstairs and slept on the couch.

---

When I returned to Abigail's house that night, I found her in the clown room. She was wearing a transparent robe adorned with clowns that were dancing down her back. She turned, allowing the material to part and reveal she was nude beneath. I caught my breath, eyeing her. The dark patch of hair between her legs beckoned me. I licked my lips, stepping into the clown room and shedding my robe. I had crossed the street in my bare feet, the cold causing my nipples to stand erect as I had let myself into her unlocked house.

"I thought you would never come," she whispered huskily.

"Where's David?" I asked, ignoring her comment.

She shook her head. "Forget David," she ordered, touching my cheek. "All that exists... is this." She kissed me softly and I accepted eagerly. When we pulled back from the kiss, I opened my eyes to see that her face was suddenly pale white. A large red ball was perched on her nose. She raised the lapel of her robe and presented me with a red rose. As I bent to sniff it, a jet of water sprayed comically in my face.

---

That was enough to shake me from the dream. I sat up, clutching at blankets that weren't there. I quickly scanned the living room, taking a moment to realize where I was and why. Laying back down, I finally let myself examine the dream that I had just experienced. I quietly sighed, "Oh, shit."

Chapter Twelve

After the dream, I found myself reluctant to go back to sleep. So, finally, I headed downstairs in my pajamas to begin preparations for Cassie's birthday party. I had to get a cake, decorations, prepare my house to be flooded by pre-teen hoodlums and the various detritus that came with throwing a celebration like this. I sat in my chair at the dining room table, pulling a notepad in front of myself and doodled aimlessly in the corner for a moment. Finally, I moved the nub of the pen to the top line and quickly wrote: "I made it through another day."

I tapped the pen in the margin, leaving numerous black dots on the paper. I hadn't written one of these notes in a long time; I now had Sam to bounce my thoughts and feelings off of and the notes seemed... unnecessary now. I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment, then began to write.

"Sam was injured today and we had our first real test. I wanted nothing more than to ignore the other injuries and cradle her and kiss her until everything was better. She also faced a dilemma, although I couldn't see it at the time. She was forced to risk herself even though she knew what was at stake. She put the good of her coworkers ahead of me, which is basically the point if we want to keep this union secret. I never imagined how hard it would be!

"In other news, I just woke from an erotic dream starring a woman... a woman who isn't Sam. Or gay. Geez, is this going to turn into my new hobby? Going after straight women and coaxing them to join me on the dark side? 'Luke, I am your lesbian lover.' I'm sure it was nothing; just a harmless dream. But still, I can't help but feel like I betrayed Sam somehow. I need to think this whole thing over before telling Sam. And I *will* tell Sam, that I promise myself. No secrets in this relationship.

"Speaking of other relationships, Braindead the Supercock is back in my life. He called yesterday and - horror of horrors - Cassie answered the phone. Bless her heart, she did as I said and told him she was my daughter. Talk about mistakes... now, he's convinced a) Cassie is his daughter by some twist of fate or b) that I was sleeping around with someone during our marriage. I guess the latter comes from the idea that I'm no better than him. Someone should remind him that *he* was the one screwing the mail girl (although I did find her attractive). I may have been unhappy, but I was never unfaithful."

I couldn't find a way to end the letter, so I left it there and stood, walking to the kitchen and pouring myself a glass of water. I almost wished Warner hadn't given Sam a sedative; while staying up all night wasn't the best medical care, it might make us both feel better to talk until dawn. I desperately wanted to talk with Sam... hear her voice. I lightly touched my forehead; this was getting out of hand. One night away and I'm already going crazy; what am I going to do during her next mission? I hope Sam finds Sinead O'Connor sexy, because if SG-1 ever comes back late I'll have pulled out all of my hair.

The water was extremely cold and chilled my lips and tongue as I drank it. As I filled another glass, I looked out the window and realized I could barely see the corner of Abigail's house. I leaned forward, seeing that the second-story window at the back of the house was illuminated. I wondered if the Tierney's were in the middle of something, maybe having just gotten the dinner cleaned up. I smiled, then immediately regretted the mental picture I had formed.

Sam, I thought. I desperately needed Sam...

I closed my eyes and leaned against the counter.

---

I woke up the next morning looking into Sam's beautiful blue eyes. Smiling softly, I stroked her cold, flat cheek and muttered, "What time is it?" She didn't answer, so I rolled onto my back and peered at the clock over my head. Two past six. Far, far too early for me to be awake. I sat up, working my hand through the tangles of my hair as I tried to revive myself. "Do you want first shower, Sam, or should I do the honors?" Again, no answer. I turned, eyeing the picture frame where it lay on Sam's pillow. "Not very talkative, are you?" The photo remained an enigma.

Deciding to stop before what I was doing could be considered mentally ill, I slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Sam's soaps and shampoos were lined up on the shelf in the shower and I touched each of them as the cold water assaulted my tired body. Finally, I grabbed the body wash and squirted some into my palm. Sam would probably be in the infirmary showers now, using the generic brands of shampoo and soap. I figured one of us should smell wonderful. I worked the cherry-scented goo over my breasts and began humming a song whose name I couldn't remember.

---

I was in the infirmary a full hour before my shift started. Dr. Warner looked a bit surprised, checking the clock to see if the night had gotten away from him. "I just wanted to see how our patient was doing," I told him. "She sleep through the night?"

He nodded, filling something out on his chart. "Woke up around five this morning and went back to sleep without any sedatives. She'll be discharged today, but I want her to take it easy." He looked up at me as if I were Sam's co-conspirator. Which, in all truthfullness, I was. "No strenuous activities."

For a moment, I wondered if he could possibly be talking about sex. Could he know about my relationship with her? "I... don't know what you mean," I said, stumbling a bit over my words.

He signed the chart and hooked it on the end of Major Tompkin's bed. The poor man actually looked as if were simply sleeping... "All I mean is that if something comes up that requires SG-1's attention, I want you to be certain Captain Carter plays no part in it. She's off-duty until the end of the week."

End of the week? Sam was off for the rest of her stay at my house? I tried not to look *too* overjoyed at this news. "I'll be sure to make that clear to Colonel O'Neill and General Hammond. I'll go visit with Sam before I take over, okay?"

"Fine by me," he nodded, moving to Sergeant Kitch's bed. The sergeant was still suffering from shock after his encounter in the Gate Room, but he too seemed to be improving.

Sam's bed was tucked away in the farthest corner of infirmary, on the other side of three empty beds. I had requested the privacy for her in lieu of assigning a private room. I pulled aside the curtain, stepping inside of it and closing it once more. Sam was laying on her side, snuggling against the pillow as she dreamed. I found the folding chair and lowered myself into it, reaching out and touching Sam's hand. Her eyelids fluttered and she locked slowly onto me. "Janet," she whispered.

"Hi, hon. How are you feeling?"

She pushed herself into a sitting position, collapsing against the pillows. "Better... can you, uh--"

I stood, moving before she could finish asking the favor. I rearranged some of the pillows so she could look evenly at me. I stroked her forehead and said, "I really missed you last night."

She smiled, her eyes tired. "I had a dream about you."

Great... she dreams about me and I dream about our neighbor. "Oh?"

Nodding, she said, "We were... at the beach. My dad was there. And my brother and my niece and nephew. We were all running and playing." With a giggle, she said, "You and dad really hit it off. I think he was trying to steal you away from me."

With a chuckle, I pushed my chest out and said, "Well, who can blame him?"

Sam laughed, running her fingers over mine. "It was weird, though... Dad was-was sick or something. It was like he was really... sick, but there was a worm in him making him healthy. Isn't that crazy?"

I didn't point out the fact that the Goa'uld were worm-like and actually had the ability to heal most ailments human hosts had. If Sam didn't realize she had dreamed her father was a Goa'uld, I sure as hell wasn't going to point it out to her. "Dreams are weird. Once, I had a dream that I was Wonder Woman." I swallowed. "And last night I had a dream - a se-sexual dream - about Abigail. The woman across the street." I winced, expecting to hear angry words spew forth from Sam's lips. What I wasn't expecting, however, was laughter. I looked up, not believing that the sound was actually coming from Sam. "You're laughing?" I asked, confused beyond belief. "You're... this is funny?"

"Oh, Janet! It's hilarious!" She covered her face, shaking with laughter. She shook her head, reaching out and taking my hand. She brushed her eyes with her free hand and said, "Everyone has sex dreams; they're not just for teenagers anymore. So what if you dreamt about someone you're not in love with? At least it was just a dream... I'm not going to get mad over a stupid, unconsious, *fake* affair." She kissed the back of my hand and said, "But I think it's hilarious you were afraid I'd yell at you."

I sighed. "You're not mad?"

"Not in the least."

I stood, leaning over the bed and kissing her lips softly. "I didn't even want to go to bed last night... It felt so weird sleeping alone and I had just spent a couple of hours with Abby... I'm sorry, Sam. I know you're not mad or anything, I'm still sorry."

She brushed my cheek, then said, "It's Abby now, is it? Boy, one late night romp and she's suddenly 'Abby.'"

My finger slipped under the mattress and I felt along her crotch. "You better be careful, missy. I could run to Warner and get him to slip that catheter right back in... and I know how to make it an excrutiating experience."

The blonde ignored my threat, her hand sliding under the blankets and finding mine. She wrapped her hand around mine, holding it where it would do the most good. I smiled and flexed my fingers as her eyes rolled back in her head. She reclined against the pillows, biting her bottom lip as my fingers did their work. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to her ear and whispered, "You missed this, did you? Let me refresh your memory." I nibbled her earlobe as my fingers worked under her gown. She raised her knees, tenting the blanket and blocking what we were doing. She gasped quietly, her free hand clutching the mattress as I felt a warm flow against my fingers.

I pressed my lips to hers, then rose and straightened her blankets. "Anything else I can do for you, ma'am?"

Sam grinned, sticking both hands under her pillow and stretching. I blatantly stared at her breasts, straining against the material of her gown. "Lucky," I whispered. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Find a storage room after I'm discharged. I'll take care of you."

I don't believe there's ever been a patient in the history of organized medical care that has ever been discharged as quickly as Samantha Carter was that day.

---

Sam was leaning against the wall, adjusting her jumpsuit when I exited the storage room. My tie was a little crooked, but she helped me fix that. I ran my fingers through her hair, making sure that the sparse lipstick I wore hadn't rubbed off onto her face during our little make-out session. Hazarding one more kiss before we assumed a 'just-friends' distance, Sam rubbed her stomach and asked, "You hungry?"

"Famished," I said. Samantha Carter was extremely good at wearing me out. We fought the urge to hold hands as we made our way to the elevators, riding in relative silence to the cafeteria.

Though at first she pretended to be annoyed at my 'Absolutely No Jello' rule, I could tell Sam was grateful to get some real food after her stay in the infirmary. Well, as real as the mess hall food got. Today they were serving hamburgers with reheated french fries. We found a table near the back, hoping that O'Neill, Daniel and Teal'c all stayed away. We had arrived an hour after the lunch rush, so we felt confident we wouldn't be disturbed. On the other hand, the members of SG-1 were known for their tenacity. I found a bottle of ketchup and proceeded to make my burger edible.

Sam was the first to speak, dipping a handful of french fries in a pool of ketchup. "So she thought it was no big deal?"

I shrugged. "Apparently. I had to explain to her the entire concept of birthdays and birthday parties. Hopefully some of her friends at school will have birthdays soon. I'd hate to teach her about the custom using mine or yours."

"Or Colonel O'Neill..." Sam muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "God forbid. She'd probably think strippers were mandatory and every party needed a keg." I snickered, taking a bite of my burger. Surprisingly, it wasn't completely bad. It wasn't completely good, either. "Right now, I'm assuming a pool party at Colonel O'Neill's house. No more than ten of her friends from school..."

"There's a problem, Janet," Sam said. "Not a big problem, but..." She took a sip of her drink before continuing. "What about Teal'c? A pool party means he'll more than likely have his shirt off and I'm not looking forward to explaining his pouch to a bunch of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds."

"Damn," I muttered. "You're right. Of course, he didn't seem that fond of swimming the last time we had a party at the Colonel's house. Maybe we could convince him to keep his shirt on."

Sam nodded. "That'd work. Think we could find a reason for him to keep a baseball cap on the entire time?"

My eyes brightened. "Oh. Oh... no, we couldn't do that. Could we?"

"Do what?"

I tapped the table with my fingernail, then glanced around the room to see if the subject of our conversation happened to be present. Discovering he was not, I leaned forward and asked, "Do you... do you think we could get Teal'c to be our clown?"

Sam laughed.

---

Teal'c looked up from the sketch, eyeing us both before he raised his eyebrow. "This is standard at Earth birthday celebrations?" he asked, indicating the drawing he held.

"Not... standard. But it's normal for a clown to be at a birthday party. We just... it's a pool party, Teal'c, and we were worried about the pouch and the... the tattoo. We didn't want to leave you out and this was really the only way to assure that there would be no questions. Please, Teal'c? You'd be doing us a huge favor by saving us the price of hiring a clown."

He looked back at the illustration. "This entertains the children?"

"Yeah," I said, a bit unsure. "But I have a sinking feeling that Colonel O'Neill will get a kick out of it, too... We'll make it up to you, Teal'c. We promise."

Sam nodded. "You name it, buddy, it's yours."

Slowly, Teal'c lowered the drawing, then looked at me. "I will be your jester."

I smiled, jumping up and wrapping my arms around his massive neck. "Thank you, Teal'c!" I kissed his cheek, then brushed away the tiny smudge of lipstick I had left on his skin. "We owe you big!"

He merely bowed his head slightly, then clasped his hands behind his back. "If there is nothing else...?"

"No, we're fine. We'll get you sized and everything before Saturday. Thank you again, Teal'c." Bowing again, he moved towards the door and stepped out of Sam's lab. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Sam. "I thought it would be a bit harder than that, actually." It was then that I realized that Sam's eyes were sparkling mischievously. She was holding something behind her back, her tongue pressed against her teeth in her classic 'I'm-very-amused' grin. I looked suspiciously at her and asked, "What is it?"

"Teal'c may not be the only person dressing up." She revealed the bag she was holding and spilled the contents on the table. "May I reintroduce you to Electra Indigo?"

"Oh, no," I said, shaking my head and backing away from the captain. "I'm not dressing like a slut for my daughter's first birthday party."

Sam looked defeated for only a second before she smiled again. "Fine. But you promised you'd wear it in front of Colonel O'Neill and the guys. When?"

I checked my watch, then looked at the wall. "When do you get off duty?"

---

"Car-terrr," Jack O'Neill whined. "I have plans. I was going to go... do something... extremely... What's up?"

From my vantage point on the stairs, I could hear but not see the three men enter my house. Even using just my ears, I could tell the three apart; O'Neill moved with precision, his heavy footfalls leading him directly to where he needed to be. Daniel maneuvered cautiously, always careful not to impact or knock anything over as he walked. Finally, Teal'c always moved whisper-quiet in any situation. I was hardly sure he was even present. Sam closed the door and I saw her make a quick detour to the foot of the stairs before standing in the living room doorway. "Guys, we kind of... have a problem."

The Colonel's military sense kicked in. "What kind of problem?" The whine was gone, replaced by slightly agitated concern. I could almost see his posture straighten.

"Nothing... Earth-shattering, Sir, but... well, you see, Janet and I went out shopping today for Cassandra's birthday party and we stopped at O'Malley's for some lunch. I convinced Janet to get a margerita and she convinced me to get a Long Island Iced Tea and before long we were... let's just say we were impaired. And against our better judgement, we continued shopping."

The men were silent. Finally, O'Neill said, "That's not a crime... unless you guys were driving."

"Huh?" Sam said. "Oh. Oh, no we, uh, we called a cab from the restaurant." Good ad-libbing, I thought. "Anyway, Janet decided to get a little bit of a makeover since this weekend is so important for Cassandra."

"Where is Cassandra?" This was Daniel.

Sam seemed annoyed that they kept interrupting her. "Across the street, she's spending the night at the Tierney's. Where was I? Makeover, right. Okay, Janet got a makeover. We made some decisions on the makeover that probably weren't the smartest decisions we've ever made. And now, some of these changes are permanent and we were just wondering how bad this thing really was." I could see her legs as she neared the staircase; she was wearing a skirt for the first time in a long time, not counting Boulder. God, she had excellent legs... Focus, Janet! "Promise you guys won't make this a big deal? She feels bad enough about it as it is."

I could hear them muttering their promises and Sam approached the stairs. "Janet? You can come on down."

I took a deep breath, remembering when I had been in my high school production of "Our Town." That, however, had been in a darkened theater with a faceless audience. This was in my living room, bright lights, with three of my closest friends and coworkers. Breathe, I told myself. Just breathe. I came down the stairs and stepped into the door of the living room. Sam walked ahead of me, gauging the guy's reactions.

The 'Electra Indigo' get-up had been a goof from before Sam and I had started sleeping together. I had a row of earrings in each lobe, most of them daggers and crosses. I was wearing a studded dog collar, with a leash hanging loosely around my shoulders. My skirt was miniscule, showing off a generous amount of leg and shredded nylon leggings. In lieu of my normal high heels, I wore Sam's combat boots.

Several additions had been made to this outfit since Sam had helped me get ready. Metallic silver lipstick stood out on my mouth and I wore pale facepaint that we had bought for Teal'c's clown outfit. My hair had been dyed dark blue. Instead of my skintight Dukes of Hazzard t-shirt, I wore a uniform shirt with the sleeves cut off (it had been bleached in the wash and was no longer acceptable for duty). On one wrist, I wore loops of chain. On the other, I wore one half of a sawed-off pair of handcuffs we had found in a specialty store. My right forearm was marked by a dragon tattoo.

The guys were, needless to say, stunned. Colonel O'Neill's eyes widened, his jaw apparently in search of the floor. His eyebrows rose slowly to join his hair line and his fingers - which were holding a pretzel - went limp. The pretzel plummeted to the floor. Daniel's eyes widened behind his glasses until they practically filled the lenses, making him look like a cartoon presentation of himself. His lips were moving, but words failed to form. Teal'c, however, had the most impressive reaction. His already rigid posture straightened and *both* eyebrows arched, his hands coming unclasped and hanging limply by his sides. It was Colonel O'Neill who got the first word out. "Whu-huzzuh."

I smiled. "Well, Sam, I think they like it."

Daniel nodded slowly, tilting his head towards Jack and then closing his eyes. I smiled when I realized that he was shutting out his visual input in order to form a coherent word. Finally, he managed to produce, "Th-this is permanent?"

Sam and I both laughed and I peeled away the dragon on my arm. "None of it is permanent," I chuckled. "It was just a joke." I pulled off the heavy metal jewelry and handed it to Sam. "You guys... should've seen your faces."

"And you can!" Sam said, picking up a small camera. "Courtesy 'Scott's Spy Shop,' I have a picture of each of you gawking at the lovely doctor." She tapped the tiny camera against her palm, then turned to O'Neill and said, "What do you have to say about the 'Napoleonic power monger' now, Colonel?"

He looked me up and down and said, "Very... nice."

Daniel frowned. "Um... can I ask a question? You said this was a joke, right?" Sam and I both nodded, wondering where he was going with this. He pointed to me, indicating the outfit. "Was it a joke on us... or her?"

My face reddened behind the pale makeup when I realized the truth in what he was asking. Sam hadn't just humiliated the guys... she had humiliated me! I turned to her, my mouth slightly open as I tried to find the right words to ask, but her expression told me everything I needed to know. I looked at the guys, suddenly unbelievably embarrassed to be in the same room with any of them. I turned and ran up the stairs, praying I made it to my room before I started crying.

---

Sam, of course, was right behind me. As soon as the bedroom door closed, she began whispering, "I'm sorry, Janet... I am so, so sorry. I never meant for it to be a joke on you." She moved towards me, gently touching my shoulders. "I'm sorry. I never meant to humiliate you."

I turned, smiling. My eyes were still wet, but I had already stopped crying. I touched Sam's face, stroking her soft skin. "I know, honey. It was just a little... shocking at first to hear the possibility from Daniel." I chuckled. "Hell, this whole thing was my idea in the first place." I kissed her, pulling her close and nipping at her lip with my teeth. She chuckled into my mouth, sliding her hands down my back and sliding them under the tiny skirt I wore. With a gentle tug, she pulled me up and I wrapped my ripped nylons around her waist, maintaining our kiss as she spun us towards the bed. I pulled back, glancing at the door. "Wait! Wait, wait, the guys are downstairs!"

"They said they'd let themselves out." As if on cue, I heard the front door slam. A few moments later, the roar Jack O'Neill's truck filled the front yard. Sam lowered me to the floor and stepped back, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Now... world-famous heavy-metal superstar Electra Indigo," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "If I remember correctly, when we first met, you said you had certain needs that needed to be tended to."

"Oh, yeah," I said, glancing at the mirror. My mascara was streaking down my face, making me look like Brandon Lee in 'The Crow.' "You want to help me, sweetness?"

Sam shrugged out of her blouse, wearing only a cotton bra beneath. "Well, I am your biggest fan," she said, her voice taking on an awed tone. She blinked rapidly and held her hand out to me. "I'd love to help my favorite singer relax after a hectic concert."

I stepped forward, pulling up my thin strap of a skirt and straddled her, pulling her close to me. We kissed softly, my metallic lipstick smearing onto her face as we kissed. When I pulled back, I used the pad of my thumb to clean her lips off. "Your lips look delicious with metallic lipstick," I told her.

"What other parts of my body look delicious, Miss Indigo?"

I giggled and pushed her down onto the mattress, proceeding to discover just how many places I could smear my lipstick before it was all gone.

Chapter Thirteen

The rest of the week flew by, hardly giving me a chance to catch my breath. Colonel O'Neill, as luck would have it, had arranged a rendezvous with an ex-girlfriend in Vegas, therefore leaving his house unavailable for a teenager's birthday party. That left us with a tiny backyard, ten invitations that were basically useless and a total of forty-eight hours in which to set up the entire party in my backyard; a space less than half that of the colonel's. I half-wanted him to show up in the infirmary with something really bad after his next mission... preferably something that required a Foley.

I woke at a few minutes before six, waking Sam and hurrying to the bathroom to take a quick shower before the hectic day began. Daniel was coming by at nine-thirty to pick Cassandra up for a day of shopping and whatnot so she wouldn't be around when we were decorating or when her little friends started to show up. Our plan was for him to let her buy something for herself, then see a movie before coming home no sooner than thirteen hundred. I smiled when I realized I was laying out my daughter's birthday party like a military op. Operation: Thirteen.

I dressed in a casual denim shirt and some jeans, pausing to pull the covers off of Sam's still sleeping body. She protested at the cold, curling into a tiny ball as I dashed downstairs. The cake was ready; all we had to do was write the message across the top in red icing. I flipped on the light in the kitchen, blinking against the brightness as I searched out the white tube of icing that we had bought the night before.

Now... what message to write? I pondered my many choices and eventually settled on "Happy Thirteenth Cass!" I cut open one corner of the tube and began to squeeze thin, red, cursive lines onto the top of the cake. I was polishing off the second 'e' when Sam finally trudged into the kitchen, a robe loosely tied around her form. I smiled at her, licking some excess icing off my finger. "Hey, sweetheart," I said. "Tired?"

Her eyes were still closed and she nodded slowly, moving towards the coffee maker. "Oh, sorry... I didn't start any yet." I checked my watch. "We have to start filling the balloons with helium before, uh, before the guests arrive. Is the folding table in the garage?" I started toward that door, then stopped and said, "We need the sheet to cover it with." I turned and headed towards the linen closets. "Of course, we *could* cover the table with some of that birthday wrapping paper we got; there's a whole roll we didn't use... Where'd I put that roll?"

I had hardly noticed Sam moving, but before I knew what she was doing, her hands were on my shoulders and her tongue was in my mouth. I managed a startled 'mmph?' before allowing myself to collapse against her. I kneaded her back through the robe she wore and deepened the kiss, finally pulling back and looking into her blue eyes. I brushed away the crusty accumulation that had formed in the corner of her left eye and asked, "What was that for?"

"That, my dear," she said softly, "was the pause button. Slow down. You're a whirling dervish and, if you're not careful, you're going to collapse due to exhaustion." She kissed me again and said, "Take it easy. We won't even be able to start the serious decorating until Cassie is gone, so just... relax." She smoothed my hair and said, "Now. Do you want me to set up the table?"

"Would you?"

She grinned. "It would be my pleasure. You go sit down and rest."

I did as she ordered and curled up in my recliner as I listened to the sounds of her preparing the table (which would house the presents during the party) on the back porch. I yawned loudly, turning my head to look through the picture window that revealed my front lawn. The sun was coming up, the day was just beginning. And, when it ended, Samantha Carter would no longer be living in my house. Despite what I knew the day was bringing (loud teenagers, a party, little to no help when it came to supervision), I hoped that it would take it's time passing by...

---

I felt the soft sensations dancing along the sole of my foot before I realized I had fallen asleep. I let my eyes open slowly and scan the room before I focused on the blonde kneeling in front of my recliner. Rearranging myself so that my poor feet were out of her reach, I stroked her face and said, "You let me fall asleep."

She nodded, resting her head on the arm of the chair. "Indeed, I did. I got the backyard all set up and the Tierney's have already arrived." She glanced over her shoulder and asked, "The mom, the dark-haired number that thought we were a couple the first time she met us? Is she the one you had that... dream... about?"

Not certain how to respond, I nodded.

"Nice choice," Sam said, winking. "Now, c'mon... Cassie is finishing up her waffles. Daniel's due to arrive any minute."

Any minute? I checked my watch and muttered a curse. "How long did you let me sleep?!"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "At the rate you were going, you would have collapsed from exhaustion by now." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and said, "I was worried you were trying to do too much."

I sighed, knowing she was telling the truth. I glanced into the kitchen, seeing Cassandra at the table, engaged in an animated conversation with Emily Tierney. I smiled, then turned to Sam. "Speaking of our daughter, when do you think we should tell her... about us?"

She glanced into the kitchen as well, then said, "I don't know. How do you have that conversation with a kid? I'm nervous and worried, but I'm scared, too. What if she rejects us? What if her world doesn't accept this kind of relationship and she wants to be taken away from us?"

"I don't think Cassie would ever reject you, Sam. She loves you."

Quietly, Sam said, "Not as much as she loves you. You're right. We should tell her before we... before I pack up tonight." I looked up and saw a tear in her eye. Feeling immense sadness for my lover, I brushed the tear away as she said, "I'm going to miss sleeping in your arms every night, Janet Fraiser. I never thought that I would love or need anyone this much. And to think that... that my soulmate would come in such an unassuming package..." She kissed my forehead, tracing a path along my back. She couldn't find any more words, but no more were needed.

We held each other until the doorbell broke us apart. I ordered her to go upstairs and splash her face with some water while I tended to things for a while. I watched her go up the stairs before answering the front door. Daniel Jackson stood before me, dressed in a violet shirt and khakis. He wore a pair of aviator sunglasses that I assumed were prescription and he needed a shave. "Hey, Janet," he smiled. "Cass ready?"

The girl in question appeared, wrapping her arms possessively around my waist. "Can Emily come, too?" she asked.

Daniel smiled. "The more the merrier, I suppose," he shrugged, looking at me. I slipped away from the door, holding up a finger to show him I'd be back. Retrieving what I needed, I returned to the door and subtly slipped him a twenty as Cassandra went to tell Emily the good news. "Janet, really, you don't have to--"

"I insist," I told him. "To pay for Emily's movie ticket, lunch, buy her something... whatever." I grinned. "You're a saint as well as a scholar, Dr. Jackson. I am in your debt."

He smiled and ushered Cassie and her friend outside. I closed the door, a tad grateful to be rid of the girls for a while. I recalled my earlier birthday parties, pestering mom about when it would start and why couldn't I have any cake and why can only five of my friends come and why does the party have to stop and when can I open presents and on and on and on. I made a mental note to call my mother and beg for forgiveness.

Sam returned downstairs as I picked up the paper plates to set the table outside. Our paths crossed as I was pushing open the backdoor. "Um, balloons?" I asked.

"Got David working on 'em," she smiled. "Big, strong man has to be good for somethin', right?"

Outside, I found David next to the helium machine, hooking up an orange balloon to the nozzle. Abigail was sitting on a folding chair next to him, watching his movements as if he were more entertaining than a week's-worth of television. She saw my approach and said, "Ah, she rises!" David turned and offered a weak wave before returning to his slave task. Abby stood and walked to me, wrapping her arms loosely around my neck. "We got worried about you. David exploded about ten balloons before he got the hang of it."

"And sucked up most of the helium," he complained, his voice rivaling that of Alvin and his chipmunk brethren.

I laughed, covering my mouth and apologizing to him as I turned to Abigail. "Maybe we should assign him a less dangerous task... like, um... making sure the forks aren't too pointy." The chirpy voice mock-laughed from behind us. I sobered slightly and said, "Oh... by the way, Emily went to the mall with Cassandra and a friend of mine. Hope that's okay."

"You trust the guy?" she said, though it seemed she wasn't concerned.

"Absolutely."

She shrugged, nodding. "No problem."

I made sure they'd be okay in the backyard by themselves and went back into the house in search of the pre-mixed punch I had bought the night before. Instead, I found something I found a lot more interesting...

Sam had her back to me, preparing bowls of ice cream which would be kept in the freezer until they were needed. Bowls lined the counter in two rows of five and Sam held the box of Breyer's under her right arm like a drum. As she moved to deliver scoops to each bowl, she swayed her hips and sang a song under her breath. "I've got a brand-new pair of roller skates, you've got a brand-new key," she thrust her hips forward with that lyric. "I think that we should get together and try them on, you see." She had reached the end of the row and, wearing only socks on her feet, slid herself back to the front of the line. She shimmied a little and continued the song.

I was mesmerized by the two swaying pockets sewn into the back of Sam's jeans; the material was so tight, the denim seeming to cling possessively to her posterier. I could see a faint pantyline and licked my lips as she sang. The bowls filled with ice cream, she turned and dropped the ice cream box on the counter, dancing across the floor to pick up a squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup. She saw me and smiled, reaching out with the bottle and motioning for me to come forward. I did as commanded and watched as she danced a private dance for me.

"I've got a brand-new pair of roller skates..." she paused as she transferred a dollop of syrup from the bottle to her fingertip. "You've got a brand-new key." She presented the finger and I happily sucked it into my mouth, sweeping my tongue across the pad and relishing in the flavor of chocolate-covered Sam.

Ooh, chocolate-covered Sam... now there was an idea with merit...

---

Hours passed. Children arrived. At ten to eleven, an airman pulled up and deposited Teal'c on the sidewalk. The Jaffa stood stoicly at the head of the driveway, fedora pulled low over his eyes and his clothing hidden by a heavy jacket. A dry-cleaning bag containing his clown suit was draped over his arm as he examined the kids hurrying around the front lawn. Though I had never seen him in action, I assumed he didn't look much different serving as Apophis' First Prime. Mothers who were hanging around to make sure their little ones were well-taken care of nervously eyed the new arrival, concerned about the manner with which he held himself, not to mention the fact that half of his face was hidden in shadow.

I waved to the mothers, letting them know Teal'c was all right, then approached him and touched his elbow. "Teal'c, glad you could make it."

"Dr. Fraiser," he intoned, bowing slightly. "I am pleased to see you have returned to your normal appearance."

I blushed; Teal'c hadn't seen me since the Electra Indigo incident... "Yeah," I said, looking around nervously and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. It had taken three days to get all of the blue out of my hair... I sighed and changed the subject. "So... you ready to be the clown?"

We started walking towards the front door as he replied, "I have watched several hours of a Tau'ri entertainer known as Bozo, as well as the antics of one Red Skelton. I believe I am prepared." He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head towards a curious boy watching Teal'c with one finger firmly planted up his nose. "However, I do not believe I am prepared for the rigors of being surrounded by children..."

I touched his forearm. "Teal'c, nothing prepares you for that. C'mon, let's get you dressed and ready."

---

One o'clock finally rolled around, the time Daniel was scheduled to return with Cassie and Emily. I tapped my watch and examined the backyard, taking one final survey of our preparations. The picnic table was set up in the middle of the back yard, but it was only big enough to seat eight (and that would be crowded). While I had panicked, not sure what to do about the two seat-less guests, Sam had calmly asked Abigail if they had anything that would be of use. Our neighbor had rushed across the street with her packmule husband in tow and returned with a poolside table large enough to seat at least six people. That was placed a few feet away from the picnic table and covered with a red-and-white umbrella.

The gift table was on the porch, almost blocking the path to the back door. I counted fifteen presents stacked on the tabletop and, not counting whatever Daniel bought her and whatever O'Neill had waiting whenever he returned from his getaway, it looked like Cassandra was going to have an extremely wonderful birthday. Ballons floated from the corner of every table, hanging in the air as if they were trying to make the party levitate. Someone had used a magic marker to write on each balloon: CASSANDRA 13! (I found one, written in Sam's distinctive hand-writing, that said "JANET ???" and promptly popped it).

Teal'c was standing near the gift table, the epitome of a good sport, wearing his oversized red shoes, baggy pants, striped suspenders and yellow shirt. His face was a deathly pale and his lips had been smeared blood red with some of my own lipstick. His shirtsleeves were long enough that his arms needed no make-up, and his hands were covered with puffy white gloves. A red rubber ball hung on his nose. The curly red hair of his wig sufficiently covered his tattoo. I sidled up to him, gently touching his arm. "Teal'c?"

He raised slightly, then said, "I believe the phrase is... 'you owe me.'"

"Big time," I promised.

Sam hurried around the corner of the house, beaming brightly. "Here they come!" The kids, already coached on this part, immediately began searching their pockets for something I knew I would later regret giving them. A few seconds later, when Daniel, Cassandra and Emily came around the corner, Sam and I immediately brought our fingers to our ears. Ten tone-deaf pre-teens began blowing a haphazard rendition of 'Happy Birthday' on their kazoos. Cassandra brightened immediately, her eyes constantly searching as if she couldn't figure out what to focus on. Tucked under each arm was a wrapped, misshapen gift, a surprising sight since she had no reason to wrap something she'd bought for herself.

When the kazoo symphony ended, Sam led us in a vocal rendition of the traditional song. Cassie dropped her wrapped gifts on the table and ran to me, hugging me around the waist. I rubbed her hair as I finished the song, "...and many mo-oo-oore!" I bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Did you have fun with Daniel today, sweetheart?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah! We had a *lot* of fun!"

"You can tell me all about it later. Now... how about getting some cake and ice cream, huh?"

She hurried to her seat at the picnic table, greeted by her friends and eagerly accepting their wishes of a happy birthday. She was overjoyed; her face a portrait of innocence and happiness. I reluctantly tore my gaze from my daughter and went inside to help Sam with the cake and ice cream.

---

The black Toyota pulled to a stop behind a row of other cars that were practically blocking the street. Climbing out and examining the neighborhood, the man pulled off his sunglasses and looked once more at the directions he'd been given. He had to walk a bit down the street to find the house he was searching for; the house he was looking for was apparently the cause of the slight traffic jam on the street. He put his sunglasses back on, eyeing the yellow balloon on the mailbox. "CASSANDRA 13!" the rubber ball read. He smiled mirthlessly and headed up the driveway.

---

As the kids dug into their ice cream or cake, whichever they had preferred, I climbed onto a pile of bricks the previous owner of the house had meant to turn into a barbeque pit. As it was now, it made a convenient - if not exactly comfortable - seat. I sipped the lemonade that Sam had mixed and nodded appreciatively at her. She tipped her glass in thanks as she took another drink. In the middle of conversation, Cassandra suddenly excused herself from the table and hurried toward us. I sat my drink down and slid off the bricks, kneeling to intercept her. "He-ey, honey," I said. "Something wrong?"

"Huh? No. I just wanted you and Sam to open your presents. Can you open them now?"

I frowned. "Our presents? Cass, Sam and I don't have any presents; these are all yours," I indicated the mountain of colorful paper on the table next to us.

"Yes, you do," she insisted. Slipping out of my arms, Cassie went to the table and retrieved the two irregular packages she had obviously wrapped in a hurry. She returned to me and handed me one of the packages. Written in sharpie on the top of the lumpy wrapping paper was a quickly written "To Mom From Cassandra." It was the most precious thing anyone had ever given me; I was loathe to open the damn thing. I smiled, blinking back tears as I reread the words.

Sam approached to see what was happening and Cassie handed her the other package. Sam read the front, then showed me what it said, "To Sam (Big Sis) From Cassandra." We both smiled and I said, "Cassie, this is a wonderful, wonderful thing, but you were supposed to buy a present for *yourself.* Sam and I wouldn't have minded."

"I have a lot of presents," Cassie said, understating the massive amount of boxes on the folding table. "I wanted to do something nice for you and Sam."

Daniel was suddenly next to me, kneeling next to Cass and looking warily at the packages. "Um... Cass? I thought we agreed you'd do this later? Like, uh... when there weren't so many people around?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes and grunted, "Ugh! Fine!" She's a teenager fifteen minutes and she already has the signature move down... this is wonderful.

She took my free hand in one of hers and dragged me into the kitchen. Sam and Daniel followed. Sam eyed the archaeologist suspiciously, but he just shrugged and closed the backdoor. I looked at the present in my hand, suddenly seeing it in a slightly ominous light. "Cass? What did you get us?"

"Open 'em! You'll see!"

The girl was beaming like the Fourth of July, her eyes darting from me, to Sam, back to me. I shrugged and gently tugged at the Scotch tape holding the two ends together; I wanted to preserve the wrapping if at all possible. I got the wrapping paper open at the top, holding it like a bag of potato chips, and reached into the opening. I felt something soft and hairy. The dread was returning. I pulled the present completely out and examined it, turning it over a few times before I looked at my daughter. "Cass? What is this?"

Sam was looking at it as well and immediately pulled open her present. As the paper came off, we all saw what we expected. The captain held up her gift, looking it over, then looked down at Cassie. The girl's smile was fading, apparently misconstruing our confusion for displeasure. "Don't you like 'em?" she asked, desperately afraid she might have made the wrong choice.

The doll I was holding had golden blonde hair and was dressed in green overalls. The smile was made of yarn, it's blue eyes nothing more than a pair of cerulean buttons. I touched the face, then looked over at Sam's. She was holding a similar doll, only this one had brown hair, brown buttons for eyes and wore a light blue shirt with navy blue dress. Cassandra had bought a Janet doll for Sam and a Sam doll for me. The only question was... I knelt in front of Cassie, holding the doll in both hands and asked, "Why'd you buy this?"

She shrugged. "Well, Sam has to leave tonight and you guys won't get to sleep in the same room anymore. I thought you'd be lonely and I saw this doll shop where you get to choose the clothes and hair and everything for the dolls. I thought, you know, if you had the doll, maybe you wouldn't be so sad when you had to sleep alone again."

I could see why Daniel had wanted this presentation done privately. Unfortunately, that was the only thing I could see through the tears. Sam had knelt next to me and was hugging Cassandra. "This is a wonderful present, Cass. The best I've ever gotten in my entire life." I felt her hugging me and brushing my tears away, her hand running up and down my spine to comfort me. I finally managed to dry the tears as Sam asked the important question. "Cass... how long have you known about your mom and me?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. One night I didn't see you in your room when I got up to get a glass of water. I figured you were with mom. Then I had the nightmare and you guys were in there naked together, so I just figured it out." I glanced at Daniel, who looked a bit more uncomfortable than usual. His face was beet red and he was examining his cuticle as if it held the secret to defeating the Goa'uld. "C'mon," Cassie said. "I'm thirteen, I'm not stupid."

I laughed and stroked her hair. "But, honey, you know--"

"I know, I know," she sighed, rolling her eyes. That was going to get annoying *real* quick. "It's a secret. You guys sure are keen on keeping secrets." She kissed first my cheek, then Sam's. "It's not big deal. Can I go out and finish my ice cream?"

"Go finish," I said, letting her slip by me. I stood and turned to Daniel. "Um... Emily didn't happen to notice what Cassandra was doing, did she?"

Daniel shook his head. "We were in the food court when Cass was in the doll shop. And Emily had gone to the bathroom when she explained the whole... uh, the whole thing to me."

"Thank God I already spilled the beans," I sighed. "You're a saint, Daniel Jackson."

He cocked his head to one side. "I seem to recall you making the same statement earlier."

I ruffled his hair, a move that required me to stand on my toes, and ruffled his hair. "Whaddaya want, a medal?" I kissed his cheek and said, "Get out there and chaperone a little. I'll be out in a minute." He slipped back into the party and I turned, seeing Sam was already wetting a handtowel in the sink. I picked up our dolls and touched the soft material, shaking my head slowly. "What did we do to deserve that girl?"

Sam approached, dabbing my face with the towel to rid me of my tears. "I have no idea, but I'm damn glad we did it." She softly kissed my lips, letting the touch linger, and then pulled away. "You wanna reapply your make-up?"

"Bad?"

"Not too bad."

I waved it off. "It's just a kid's birthday party. There's only one person there I wanna impress." I playfully pinched her ass, then kissed the column of her throat. "I love you, you know."

She giggled. "I know. I love you, too."

We reluctantly released hands as we stepped outside, my eyes scanning over the party. Teal'c was making another balloon animal (snakes, worms and centipedes seemed to be his forte; I considered asking him to make a Goa'uld larvae), standing in front of the picnic table. The mothers were milling about near the fence, sipping their lemonade as they talked to a tall man with his back to me.

I felt something tingling at the base of my skull - my acquired 'Mother Sense' that went off when a stranger appeared - and moved towards the congregation, eyeing the back of the tall man's head as I moved. He had dusky blonde hair, but that was about all I could see about him... other than the fact he looked horribly familiar. I prayed my gut was wrong and took a deep breath, tapping him on the shoulder. He would just turn and the butterflies would leave my stomach. My gut would stop doing cartwheels. It couldn't be as bad as it looked; just a case of mistaken identity.

He turned, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked down at me. His piercing blue eyes locked onto me and his grinned a superior smile. I wanted to bust out every damn one of his perfect pearly whites. His hair had receded since our last face-to-face meeting and I was glad to see he was well on the way to baldness. I swallowed a mouthful of bile and glared at the man who had invaded my peaceful, happy new homelife.

Sam was suddenly at my side, alternating her gaze between me and this tall stranger. "Hey, Janet," she said, her voice nearly a sigh. "Who's this?"

"I'm Michael," the bastard said, interrupting me before I could speak. "I'm Janet's husband.

"Ex-husband," I reminded him.

God, and on my daughter's birthday of all days....

Chapter Fourteen

The children continued to laugh and play, finishing off their desserts and heading for some of the games we'd set out. But for Sam and me, the party was over.

Michael stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, apparently enjoying my shocked/horrified/angry expression. Of course he would enjoy it, I told myself. He'd seen it so much during our lousy marriage he must've come to love it. I fought the urge to scream at him to get off my property and stepped back, indicating the door. "Inside," I ordered.

He raised one eyebrow, moving slowly towards the back porch. He had never heard me order anyone around before; my request for a divorce had been served through a lawyer. I had shied away from any and all confrontation with the man because I, frankly, was scared of him. He'd never abused me - physically, at least - but I still flinched every time I thought of standing up to him. I turned to close the door, hoping to muffle the sounds of our inevitable fight, but saw Sam was cautiously approaching the door. My hands froze; should I allow her inside for support and let Michael come to his own conclusions? Knowledge like this in the hands of my ex-husband was deadly.

I stepped back and allowed her inside. She squeezed my shoulder as she passed, going into the kitchen. I watched as she pretended to start a load of dishes and breathed a sigh of relief. She was there if needed, but wasn't going to get between us. I reminded myself to properly thank her later and headed into the living room. Michael was running his fingers over the books lining the bookcase, reading the titles. "Quite a collection," he muttered, realizing he was no longer alone.

"I have better collections. Like a trash bag full of pictures of you. Took a long time to snip them out of every picture I had, but I think it belongs in the Smithsonian." I leaned against the wall and said, "What the hell are you doing here, Michael?"

He shrugged. "Is this the kind of house you can get on an Air Force salary? Damn." He picked up a magazine, read the cover and carelessly dropped it on the floor. "Maybe I should consider coming over to the dark side."

Walking over to the magazine and picking it up, I glared up at Michael. "What the hell are you doing here?" I repeated.

He put his hands on my shoulders and said, "Can't I just drop by and see my lovely ex-wife? Check up on her? Make sure she's doing okay without me in her life."

I wiggled out of his grasp and took a step back. "I'm fine, Michael. No thanks to you."

"The alimony again?" he sighed.

"No, not the alimony again. I'm not worried about checks that don't come... I don't need your money. I do just fine on my own." I resisted the urge to throw the magazine I was holding. The urge was easily pushed away, but I dropped the magazine to save myself from having any more. "If you came to see me, here I am. You've seen me. Now, go."

He indicated the window that faced the backyard. Luckily a curtain hung in the way and no one could see in. "Well, there seems to be a party brewing just outside. It would be rude of me to leave a birthday party... especially if it's for my own daughter."

"You rat bastard," I hissed. My hands were clenched and I felt like I could rip him apart right then and there. "Cassandra is not your daughter. She has no connection whatsoever to you. She will not be a part of your life." The water had stopped running in the kitchen; I knew Sam was close enough to eavesdrop and was thankful for the back-up she would provide if needed. I stepped forward, glaring up at Michael. "Leave her alone. She will grow up without knowing you or your lies."

Michael seemed impassive. He looked down at me as if I were an interesting bug, then shrugged. "She's thirteen, right? Which means she was born around 1985 if my calculations are correct."

"Genius, Michael. You can subtract. Come back when you can multiply and divide," I snapped.

He ignored me. "1985... what was happening in '85?"

Oh, fuck...

He snapped his fingers. "That's right! That's right, I was overseas." He chuckled. "Wow. Gee, I guess Cassidy can't be my daughter, can she?"

"Cassandra," I corrected weakly.

Michael casually dropped onto the couch, draping one arm over the back. "So... while I was gone, maybe someone started coming around to make sure you were okay."

I moved to the chair, leaning against it but not sitting as I felt my resolve starting to slip. Damn, five minutes in a room with this son of a bitch and I'm a cowering housewife again! It wasn't fair.

"Of course, you would've had to have gotten pregnant pretty damn soon after I left... I was only away for a year and when I came back you were the same, thin, beautiful woman I fell in love with." He chuckled. "I woulda liked to see you with some pregnancy weight, though. Janet The Cow." My fingernails had dug into my palm, but I ignored the pain. "Did the man you were sleeping with take any pictures that I could look at? That'd be great."

I turned towards him to fight back, but my eyes were hot with tears and my throat felt dry. I searched for something to look at... anything to focus my attention on. I finally spotted two large objects laying on the table out of Michael's line of sight. The Sam and Janet dolls that Cassandra had made for us were laying on the table, their arms stretched towards each other. The dolls my daughter had made for me... dolls depicting me and the love of my life... I turned my gaze to Michael, my eyes still wet.

"Cassandra is my daughter, make no mistake. But I did not give birth to her. She needed me after a horrible tragedy and I was there to help her adjust. When she cries at night, she calls for me. Mom." I took two steps forward. "You son of a bitch... you walk into my house - and this is *my* house, you asshole - and try to ruin her thirteenth birthday party just because you can't bear the thought that someone was actually smart enough to leave you. What an arrogant piece of shit you are. I love Cassie just as much as if I gave birth to her myself and if you come within two miles of her, I will find ways to make you curse your birth as much as I do. I'm a doctor now, remember?" I grabbed him by the lapels of his ugly shirt and yanked him to his feet. "Get out of my house. Don't call. Don't write. In fact, don't come back to Colorado."

Michael opened his mouth to comeback at me, but nothing came out.

I raised my eyebrows and said, "Nice retort. I'm going to say it one more time, Michael." My voice rose into a firm, sonorous, "GET. OUT."

His eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them, reaching towards his shiny bald spot. Moving quickly, he made his way to the front door and slipped outside. I followed him up the entry hall, watching as he scurried across the street and jumped into his car. The tires squealed as he pulled away. I felt two hands tentatively rubbing my shoulders and turned to see Sam smiling down at me. "Remind me not to piss you off."

The emotional shockwave of the past few minutes suddenly crashed into me and I began to cry, collapsing into Sam's strong arms. She held me as I cried, whispering soft reassurances against my hair as I let everything flow out of me. When I finally stopped crying, I hiccuped and brushed my cheek with the back of my hand. "I don't think I've ever cried this much at a birthday party before."

Sam laughed and said, "I did. My thirtieth birthday was a real sobfest."

We held each other for a long time before returning to the relative sanity of the backyard.

---

Sam and I finally said good-bye to the last of the guests and declared Cassandra's first Earth birthday party complete. Cassandra had been invited to a pizza parlor/arcade for birthday games and Abigail promised to be the chaperone. Alone in the entry hall, Sam leaned against the door and released a weary sigh. She lazily brushed her hair out of her eyes and checked her watch, dismayed to find it was only five PM. It certainly felt much later. "Do you think Cassie will believe we only have birthdays once every ten years?"

I embraced her, resting my head on her chest. "Well, there is an upside to the day going by slowly..."

"We got to put off packing," she nodded. "But there's nothing holding us back now..."

"Yeah," I agreed, looking up the staircase. "Just the horrible realization that once those bags are packed you'll be on your way out of my house."

She turned me around so we were facing each other and she softly traced my profile. "But not out of your life, sweetheart. What are you doing this Sunday?"

I shrugged. "I'm off."

"Good." She kissed me, then stepped back. "Would you like to go out on a date with me? I promise, I won't try any funny stuff and I won't try to get a good-night kiss before we part ways." She slipped her hand down my back, settling in the curve just above my ass. "Do you have a curfew?"

I chuckled and pressed against her. "Nope. I can get someone to watch Cassie that night." I kissed her chin, then said, "I want to thank you."

"For what?"

"I had the biggest blow-out ever with Michael today. Usually, that's topped with ice cream and too much beer... but now, just a few hours after seeing the asshole, I'm smiling and laughing without any alcohol whatsoever. You may be a good influence on me, Major Carter."

She bent her head back, looking down at me. "Captain," she clarified.

"With your track record? Please... it's only a matter of time before you get that promotion." We hugged for a few more seconds until I finally broke the magic of the moment. "We probably should get started packing." I felt her nodding. "I'll get your stuff from my room, you can get the guest room."

---

Working together, we were able to finish packing up all of her stuff by seven. I found Sam sitting in the guest bedroom, her legs curled up on the mattress and a small picture frame in her hands. Three suitcases sat next to her on the bed, all of them closed tight and filled with clothes and accessories. I approached, climbing onto the bed and scooting up until I was behind her. I carefully looped my arm around her midsection and rested my head on her shoulder. The picture was of her, smiling into the camera at some SGC function I couldn't remember. "Okay, we get it, you're beautiful," I whispered. "Get over yourself."

Sam chuckled and put the picture down, tilting her head so she could see my profile. "We don't have any pictures of us. Just us... together. I want a picture of us."

I kissed her earlobe and said, "Okay. Okay, let's do that... find the most beautiful place we can find and get a picture just for us..." I nibbled on her ear and nodded. "That'd be nice."

She reclined on the mattress, pulling me down with her. We laid entwined for a moment, then she asked, "What time is it?"

"A little past seven," I told her, unable to see a clock from my position.

Her voice cracked when she spoke again. "I don't want to go home. I don't want to leave you here."

I sat up, looking down at her. "Sam, can I tell you something?" She nodded. "I'm kind of glad we're being forced apart. I know, I know how crazy that sounds, but this has been way too convenient. It's like our whole relationship has been about sex, not real feelings." She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "I know you have feelings for me, Sam. I have feelings for you, too. Incredibly strong feelings... but truthfully, how many men did you just jump in bed with? We've hardly had one real date unless you count that weekend in Boulder. And even then we spent most of the time in bed.

"It's not that I don't want to sleep with you, Sam. The nights are going to be just as lonely for me after you leave. But this'll give us a chance to explore our relationship outside of the bedroom. Can you understand that?"

She sat up, holding both of my hands. "You know, I was thinking about us earlier, when you and Michael were arguing. I couldn't even bring myself to say we were in a relationship. I had to think of it in terms of 'since Janet and I started sleeping together.' I think separation might be a good thing." She sniffed and added, "But that doesn't make it one damn bit easier."

I laughed and cupped her face in my hands. "I love you, Sam."

Quietly, she returned the sentiment and leaned forward, kissing my lips. We sat cross-legged on the bed for a while, talking about mundane things like television and radio, counting our favorite bands and songs and discussing our favorite movies of all time. Suddenly, Sam brightened and grabbed my hand, leading my downstairs. In the living room, she turned on the TV and VCR and produced a tape. The label read "Unfaithfully Yours."

"Dudley Moore," I smiled, remembering our conversation about him a week or two earlier.

She nodded. "You promised to give him a shot. You wanna give him a shot now?"

I took the tape from her and tapped it against my palm. "Sam, m'dear, if you like it... I should be willing to give it a shot." I kissed her and slipped the tape into the machine. We curled up on the couch and spent the rest of the evening with a paranoid, jealous Dudley Moore and, to my utter shock, I actually enjoyed the movie. To think, all this time all I needed to enjoy Dudley Moore was a beautiful woman sitting next to me.

Once the film was over and Sam made me admit out loud that I had misjudged the comic genius that was Dudley Moore, we headed upstairs one last time. We weren't going to bed, our pajamas would have to wait another few hours. I sadly lifted what I could carry of Sam's suitcases and looked sadly around the bedroom. We went downstairs together, moving like a pair of women on their way to the electric chair. I loaded the suitcases, making sure everything was in order before I shut the back door. Sam had the driver's side window of the car rolled down and I approached, crouching in the road so we were face-to-face.

"You'll be back."

"You know it," she said. "Say the word and I'll torch the house for the insurance... Or the second you adopt another orphaned alien cutie, you have my number." She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and finally whispered, "I don't wanna go."

On a neighborhood street, even after dark, it was too risky to give Sam a kiss. A neighbor could see and report us or maybe Colonel O'Neill would come by to drop off Cassie's birthday present. Any number of people might see us and our careers would be jeopardized. I had discarded all of that by the time I leaned in the window and captured Sam's lips with my own. She wasn't wearing lipstick, just a strawberry-flavored lip balm that I tasted as I pulled away. "I'll still be here tomorrow," I swore.

She reached out, touching my forearm. "I'll call you, okay?"

"You better," I said, forcing the tears out of my eyes.

I watched the car drive slowly down my street, pausing at the stop sign as an old Chevy truck turned left. Sam sat there an inappropriate amount of time before she pulled into the intersection, her taillights slowly shrinking as she drove home... away from me and the house she had lived in for the past two months. Soon, she turned onto a main street and disappeared out of sight. I blinked back tears and hugged myself, walking back up the driveway to the house.

Epilogue,

I turned off the bathroom light, my hair still wet from my shower and my teeth still minty from my toothpaste. Examining my face in the mirror, I turned off the lights on the vanity mirror and headed for my bed. I was dressed in a pair of plum-colored boxer shorts and a tank top, a pair I hadn't worn since Sam and I had started our relationship. The bed was still made, the corner of blanket on my side turned down to reveal the blue sheets below. I stood next to the bed, touching the cool mattress. The bed never got cold when Sam was here waiting for me... Despite the unexpected reminder I had gotten earlier in the week, I had almost forgotten what it was like to slide into a bed by myself.

I finally pulled back the blankets and got in, working my feet back and forth to warm the material before I got completely settled. When I was satisfied, I picked up the novel I'd been reading and turned to the bookmarked page. I read a total of three words before I replaced the bookmark and looked at Sam's empty space next to me.

The Sam Doll was laying on the pillow, smiling up at me. I gently lifted the toy, touching the face and inhaling the clothes. Before she had left, Sam and I had spritzed our respective dolls with our own fragrances. Now the doll not only looked like Sam, it smelled like her too. I inhaled; sandalwood and strawberry. I hugged the doll to my chest, scooting lower on the mattress as I toyed with her hair.

After about ten minutes, I was about to put Sam Doll away and get some sleep when the phone rang. I picked it up, hoping not to wake Cassie, and said, "Hello?" before checking the CallerID.

"So, I'm laying here," Sam said, "trying to sleep, and it dawns on me. I am not used to sleeping by myself. I don't know if I'll be able to get any sleep at all tonight."

I smiled. "Hi, Sam. What're you doing?"

"Well, I tried reading, then I tried counting sheep but they just kept turning into you. And my bed feels so empty."

"Join the club," I sighed, sliding lower in bed. "Do you wanna talk?"

A pause. "What do you want to talk about?"

I had a sudden flashback to almost every phone conversation I'd ever had with every one of my boyfriends in high school. "Anything. I doubt I'll be able to sleep tonight. I just took the longest shower of my life and was beginning to look forward to some late-night infomercials."

"Just out of the shower, eh?" Sam said, her voice sly. "What are you wearing?"

I almost blushed, looking down at the Sam Doll. "Um... um, a pair of boxers and a tank top." I licked my lips, then said, "Are you planning to do what I think you're planning to do?"

She didn't answer, instead saying, "That's not the right question..."

I fidgeted for a moment, then said, "What are you wearing?"

"A smile."

I actually shivered.

When we finally hung up two hours later, I turned off the bedside lamp and fell asleep with the doll Cassandra had given me wrapped tightly in my arms. So Sam had moved away from me... so it wasn't going to be as easy to sleep together any more. Who cares? What's a good relationship without the occasional pitfall or two? If nothing else, it would make me appreciate my time with her more. Plus, there was the fact that Daniel knew about us, so at least we had someone to run interference when it came to the colonel and General Hammond.

And who knows? Maybe one day our relationship won't be such a big deal in the eyes of the SGC. God, the day when I can stand on the ramp and kiss my lover good-bye before a mission... I had a feeling, a good feeling, that the good times were still on their way and I could hardly wait to see what was waiting for us.

End

Geonn

Stargate SG1

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