(A/N: Just a little non-objective viewing by Sam's fiance)

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Pete Shanahan was fairly tired by the time he returned from work to his fiancé's house, only to find she wasn't there.

He didn't even bother to glance at the clock; it was too early for her to be home…any hour short of three a.m. was too early, in her opinion, to leave the base and her solitary lab. And that was only when she wasn't off world.

Granted, he had known after only a few months into their relationship, it would be hard to break her seven-year habit of overtimes and overexertion's, and all-nighters where she simply could not be forced to leave whatever classified project that got her so excited he'd swear there had to more to it than just science.

But this duly noted knowledge did not give him the power of mind over matter. And he could feel the familiar emotions of disgruntled hatred for past dynamics that had placed such an incredible woman in a position where she would go literally insane if she didn't put in at least five hundred hours of overtime a week.

She always told him she found it relaxing. There was not much clarity as to what it was, but it made her happy. Despite the fact that she continually assured him it paled in comparison to finally having a life.

That was a lie, the first and last lie she had ever told him, at least with words. Her work was her life, this…what they had…this was the surreal aspect of it…for her, anyway.

He knew she probably had more than half-a-dozen things on her agenda that were twice as exciting as spending an evening with him. And he felt compelled to compete with those things that were non-existent to his reality.

He couldn't help but recognize the fact that he was playing the role of third fiddle. First came her profession along with all of the work that had developed in her the skill to stay up three nights in a row and then find energy to traipse off to save Earth. Second came SG-1, with two extraordinary men whom he felt inadequate around and who she loved and connected with deeply. Third was her commanding officer.

It had taken him a while to figure out. They hid it so well, especially now that they were engaged and her CO was dating.

But it had only taken one moment of weakness off base on their behalf, for the galaxy to see what had always been there and might forever linger. Albeit maybe never to diminish in its intensity no matter how much longer it was ignored, if it could be ignored for another extended amount of time.

No matter how hard Pete tried, he knew imminently that she would only ever be content with their relationship. It was nearly a self-destructive pairing, because eventually he would begin to experience that dangerous torrent of emotion that came from loving someone who loved someone else.

Yet selfishly he had still proposed. Knowing she would accept simply because she had given up on another man, and needed an excuse to stop the unstoppable. Which was being in love with said man.

Pete sighed as he sunk into Samantha Carter's couch and continued the train of thought that would ultimately lead to a dire mood on his part.

He had only had to witness one shared look between his fiancé and General O'Neill. Just one. And he had seen the fierce connection that had taken eight years to establish.

And with that same look he knew nothing had ever happened between them, specifically in a physical sense.

So how in hell could he compete?

They loved each other…not because a bout of intimacy had transpired between them and now they felt obligated to one another…not because they had a heated sexual affair that was the bases for so many other people to be involved.

They loved each other because they knew each other…emotionally and intellectually…and even though Pete wasn't the religious type, he'd say there was definitely a spiritual aspect to it.

And no matter how it sounded to his mind right then, theirs was not a fairy tale romance or a love-at-first-sight. This was a bond not to be trifled with. Something he doubted anyone ever in eternity, no matter who came along, could match or break.

It was an enigma to him.

Two people who had never acted anything other than professional in their careers had formed something on a scale unbeknownst to others of the human race who tried forever in the most unprofessional of environments to find.

Maybe why it had lasted so long was because they were forced to wait…while everyone else wanted to achieve the same results in their love lives, yet had always taken the instantaneous approach.

Pete chuckled sardonically to himself.

This was too much deep observation for one night…maybe he should just right a book.

Oh, he would never beat Jack O'Neill out for Sam. He already knew this. But did he have to torture himself by playing psychologist?

He didn't bother to look at the clock as he decided to just leave his future wife a note and head to his place for sleep.

Whatever time it was, it would always be too early for her.

And too late for him.