Disclaimer: This is what happens when I'm trapped in a tiny cabin with a sleeping baby while everyone else is outside having fun, and I get my hands on some paper and a pen...Oh yeah, and I don't own any of it.

Setting: Just after the end of Season 10 (post-series)

Pairings: Hints of S/J, and Cam with...well, you'll see. ;-)

Reviews: Yes, please! I live for adult conversation, and frankly, some days this is the best I get.

A/N: This is a little different. It might not be to everyone's taste, so consider yourselves forewarned.

Motorcycle Chemistry and Alien Influence

The road was rough, a wide track of packed dirt snaking it's way across rocky, scrub filled terrain. But it was the perfect place to unwind.

Revving the engine, Cam took off, deftly maneuvering his bike around the nearly unpredictable twists and turns, savouring the feel of raw power and agility beneath his seat.

No one else used the road anymore, one of those long forgotten relics from a period before his time. It'd been Sam's suggestion that he come here some time, give it a try.

He picked up speed, relishing the freedom of riding without rules, without boundaries, without some immediate crises. The only thing he had to worry about was himself.

Or so he thought.

Just as he was really beginning to relax , the cloud of dust behind him thickened, the sound of a second rider catching up.

Cam steered over to the right, hugging the curves of the road as the second bike roared into view, quickly catching up to him.

The tall, lean, leather-clad driver eyed him appreciatively, eyes sparkling as she revved her engine, challenging him to keep up. He couldn't help but notice that she was nearly as sleek as the bike she rode, and the devilish grin she tossed his way before taking off again made his blood sizzle.

Cam accelerated, matching her speed so perfectly that from a bird's eye view, it would have looked like a synchronized dance of polished chrome and shimmering metal.

With less than four feet between them, they caressed the road, twisting, dipping and soaring their way along.

Cam couldn't help the foolish grin spreading across his face as he raced his enigmatic companion. Her own joy radiated off her in almost tangible waves, a contagious sort of euphoria reaching him even as her eyes egged him forward.

The end of the road neared, and they both geared down, slowing to a gradual stop as their track petered out.

"Not bad," she commented breathlessly, shaking her shoulder-length brown hair free from her helmet. She was beautiful, he thought, discretely admiring the strong lines of her face. "Come here often?"

"First time, actually," he confessed, smiling.

She raised a shapely eyebrow, clearly impressed. "How'd you find this place?," she asked.

"A friend from work told me about it. You?"

"My aunt," she replied. "This is actually her bike. I'm just up visiting."

"Cool aunt," he noted.

"Very," she agreed. "Heading back?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Well, if you can keep up, there's this restaurant I know. You should come."

Cam laughed. "Without even knowing your name?"

Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Cassandra," she said, pulling her helmet back on and starting her engine.

"I'm Cam, by the way!," he called as she roared away, leaving him grinning and shaking his head as he took off behind her.

The restaurant turned out to be a bustling truck stop. Cam pulled in carefully, parking beside Cassandra's bike. She stood there waiting, arms crossed as she leaned casually against the restaurant's wall.

"Come here often?," Cam chuckled, dismounting.

She grinned. "Don't judge before you taste," she admonished lightly. "My uncle always says truckers only go where the food is good."

"So your aunt is a biker, and your uncle travels a lot?," he inferred.

She rolled her eyes good-humouredly. "Something like that," she replied as they headed inside.

"So, you said you're just up visiting," Cam commented, holding out her chair. "Where are you from?"

"That's a long story," she laughed, taking her seat. "But I just finished writing my last exam, and came back home to celebrate."

"Well, congratulations," he offered, gratefully accepting the menu offered by a harried looking waitress.

"Thank you," she preened, smiling at the waitress as she accepted her own menu. They each ordered a glass of water before their server bustled off, three more patrons trailing in to the already crowded dining room.

"So what'd you study?," Cam asked, trying to quell the vertigo-like sensation that a college girl might find him attractive. He had to have at least fifteen years on her!

"Mechanical Engineering," she answered, smirking.

"No way! I took Aeronautical Engineering," he replied, laughing.

"Airplanes," she said, intrigued. "Do you fly?"

"Are you kidding? What would be the point if I didn't?"

Now it was Cassandra's turn to laugh. "Touché," she said. "Civilian or military?"

"Air Force."

"Go figure."

"What's that supposed to mean?," he asked, watching the amusement flicker through her eyes. She was mesmerizing.

"My aunt and uncle are Air Force. So was my mom."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"So army brat, then?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Me too," he confessed. "My dad was the one who introduced me to flying."

"Was he Air Force too?"

"Yep."

She shook her head, smiling. "Where are you stationed?"

"Cheyenne Mountain."

She nearly chocked on the water the waitress had brought before disappearing again. "You don't say," she croaked.

"Why is that so surprising?," he asked, curious. It was a well-known base, even if no one knew what they did in there.

"My aunt works there too," she answered.

"Which division?"

"Which are you?"

"Deep Space Radar Telemetry."

She snorted. "Are you guys seriously still using that line?," she whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied casually, keeping his own voice low.

"You should know my aunt, then," she answered instead, leaning back.

"What's her name?"

"Sam."

"As in Sam Carter?," he hissed, shocked.

"Yep," she smirked.

"So, wait, are you one of Mark's kids?"

She shook her head no. "Sam's actually more of a surrogate aunt," she explained, "but she's the only family I have left, so why quibble over details?" She shrugged.

"Wait. Cassandra. As in Cassandra Fraiser?," he guessed, lights flashing in his brain.

"Yep," she chuckled.

"Ah, no way!," he groaned.

"Why, what's wrong with that?"

"It just figures, I meet a cute girl with a sweet ride, and she's completely off limits."

"Says who?"

"Common knowledge," he grumbled.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Look, Cam. Whatever you've heard...I'm twenty-two years old now, and a soon to be college graduate. I think I'm mature enough to choose my own dates."

"Don't let Sam hear you call this a date," he pleaded. "I'm the same age as her, and she'd kill me."

"Chicken," Cassandra mocked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"And the part about me being way too old for you...?"

She rolled her eyes. "Age doesn't matter."

"Says who?"

"Aunt Sam," she replied, matter-of-factly.

"You don't say."

"I do."

"And tell me, what would your reaction be if I told you I'm on the same team as 'Aunt Sam'?"

She smiled wickedly. "That would mean you're one of the best," she replied knowingly.

Cam shook his head. "You can't be serious."

"About your team?"

"About me."

"Did you have fun this morning?"

"Well, yes," he answered.

"And you've enjoyed talking to me?," she pressed.

"Yes."

"Then I'm not seeing a problem."

"You're not?"

"Have lunch with me, Cam. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."

"Sam's gonna kill me," he groaned, watching the wickedly playful glint in her eyes.

"Nah," she reassured. "I'll protect you."

Lunch was surprisingly fantastic, he had to admit. And Cassandra...well, 'sexy as hell' came to mind.

"What are you doing now?," she asked as they made their way back outside.

"I don't really have plans. You?"

"I have the bike all day and I'm itching to ride. Wanna come?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied, though he was pretty sure he'd be missing a whole lot once his team caught up to him.

They rode all day, taking mountain tracks and lakeside boulevards, viewing Colorado at it's finest.

Cassandra led him back into town just as the sun was beginning to set, pulling over at one of the many touristy look-out points just inside town.

"So," she asked casually, leaning against the rail, "Is this where we part ways?"

"For now," he replied, lips twitching into a grin.

"And after now?," she asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

"You mean to say you haven't had enough of me yet?," he teased.

She shook her head, eyeing him carefully up and down. "Nope," she answered, grinning. "I'll be in town for a few more days," she added. "I assume you know how to find Sam's place?"

"I do," he confirmed, wondering where this could possibly be leading.

"Then maybe I'll see you around."

"Is that an invitation?" he challenged.

"No. This is," she replied, stepping toward him. He closed his eyes as their lips met, electricity sparking through his entire body. Any reservation he might have had faded as she tasted him hungrily, claiming him body, mind and soul.

"Wow," he breathed when they finally broke apart.

"I'll say," she agreed, smiling. "I had a lot of fun today, Cam."

"Me too."

She took a step back, climbing up onto her bike. Cam remained locked in place, watching as she pulled away, speeding into the night.

He wondered briefly if he'd have the guts to show up on Sam's doorstep, asking for her.

Then he wondered if he'd even manage to wait a day. Cassandra Fraiser was definitely his kind of girl.