As soon as she stepped through the gate, she knew. And Sam still wasn't sure if it was good or bad that her alternate universe radar was so finely honed.
She endured the medical poking and prodding with her mind and attention focused on how to get back and undo whatever had been done.
She even rolled with the changes, not batting an eye at Danielle Jackson and Colonel Paul Davis. General Jack O'Neill barely tweaked her interest and seeing a photo of Janet's grandson just reminded her to have a chat with Cassie about condoms.
She smoothly accepted the alternate version of herself, barely making a face at the sensible shoes, tweed skirt and butt ugly mustard colored sweater the poor thing was wearing. Although, after the fifth time the woman crinkled her nose to push up her horn rimmed glasses, Sam DID have to fight the urge to NOT ask to take a photo to show her own Colonel O'Neill the next time he called her a geek.
No. All in all, Sam rolled with the punches for the three days she was trapped in the alternate universe.
Except.
The last night, stumbling back to her own VIP quarters at 0300 after figuring out how to fix things, she opened the wrong door and stared, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of her frumpy self thoroughly screwing the brains out of one General O'Neill.
Embarrassed, Sam backed out of the room, praying that they'd been too busy to notice her.
Yeah, tomorrow was going to be awkward.