Author's Note: This is not what I meant to be writing - I have a million other things in the works, but this one happened over about three days. What can I say? I was possessed. I didn't even try to give it a genre, because I have no idea what it is. Just... stick with me.

This fic takes place in that very short span of time at the end of New Order, Part 2.

As always, thanks to polrobin for the beta.

This fic is dedicated to neewom, who wrote me the sweetest note that the site wouldn't let me respond to for some reason. Consider this a thank you for the kind words. :-)

Chapter One: Waking to a Weird Dream

Sam woke to a nagging pain in her lower back and shifted, rolling her hips, then her shoulders to the right. Her face landed in the gap between the two pillows, making her grunt and shift again until she landed squarely in the first pillow, hugging the second.

Hadn't she shelled out good money for this mattress just to avoid this crap?

She'd never been able to go back to sleep in the mornings – or hang out in bed – so she pushed herself up to sitting and rubbed at her eyes before opening them.

And then rubbed them again.

This wasn't her house.

Or her quarters, though by the look of the gray concrete walls, she was on base... somewhere. But the bed was bigger than usual – VIP quarters? That would be strange.

The vague idea crossed her mind that she might be in isolation. That would explain it – if she'd been infected with something, she might not remember ending up there, and the docs had used stranger places as isolation wards when things got crowded. Curious, Sam pushed out of bed and padded barefoot to glance out of the small (oddly, curtained) window.

Nope. Nothing.

If it was quarantine, she would have at least expected some attempt at guarding the room. Briefly testing the knob, she was a little surprised when it turned.

Quickly backing away, she took stock. It was definitely the SGC. At least, it looked like the SGC, but it was no room setup she recognized. And there were two of everything – two mirrors, two dressers. Two pillows, though they lay askew, thanks to her. She crossed to one of the dressers, caught her reflection, and stopped dead.

When had her hair grown out? And when had she started wearing nightgowns on base?

"Okay," she said to no one in particular, "I'm not buying this. You can get out of my head now, 'cause you've got it all wrong."

It wouldn't be the first time, after all – her brain seemed to be fair game. The Entity, Sokar... but this, the long hair, the nightgown... this was reminiscent of someone else altogether. Someone altogether too recent, and the thought sent nasty shivers up her spine. "Fifth? Fifth, I know you're here."

But the room was still, silent. Rifling through the first dresser (full of clothes that seemed to be hers, and yet weren't), she finally found a set of fatigues and changed before setting out to find the colonel – or anyone, really, who might give her a clue what was going on.

It was a pretty damn convincing version of the SGC. Convincing enough that she was beginning to seriously reconsider her previous thought – maybe it was real. So what the hell was happening to her?

It wasn't the colonel she found first – not counting all of the lower-ranking men that she could hardly walk up to and say, "Hey, where the hell am I?" - but the team archaeologist. "Daniel!" she called.

He turned with a smile that was just a little too big. "Hey, sleepyhead."

She blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"It's just not like you," he said, the smile just refusing to quit. "But you of all people deserve a little extra sleep, so..."

"Um... I don't..."

He made a show of looking her up and down as he approached. "Feeling kind of military today, huh?"

How else was she supposed to feel? But she didn't have time to ask that as Daniel closed the distance – all of it, not stopping until his hands were on her hips and his lower body pressed to hers. "Wha-"

His lips confidently silenced her, kissing her soundly, rendering her so shocked that it was a long moment before it even occurred to her to do anything about it. Giving his shoulders a solid shove, she stepped back, but only managed to gain a few inches between their hips before his hands stopped her. "Sam?"

"Daniel! What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, one hand automatically moving to her mouth.

In response, he did the last thing she ever would have expected – he laughed at her. "And here I thought I was the shy one."

"The what?" She was losing it. Her heart was pounding, her head spinning, and she'd gone completely insane. Bonkers. Crazy. It was the only explanation.

"You know, last night I know I said I kind of agreed, but I've really thought about it this morning and decided that you're right," he told her matter-of-factly. "Yes, this is a military base, but it's not just where we work; it's where we spend all of our time. Sometimes, literally, all of our time. If we can't show affection here, then we're just... we're doomed. So you're right. I should be able to kiss my wife in public on this base if I damn well please."

That sound Sam heard could only be her jaw hitting the floor. "Your wife?"