Daniel woke with a start. He hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch. He frowned, looking around the apartment, trying to figure out what was going on as the fog cleared. Everything was quiet. As usual. As he was contractually obligated to keep it. In front of him, his laptop screen glowed softly in the now dark room, a halfhearted attempt at working still open. Reflexively, he reached over and saved the document before he lost what little progress he had made. He was starting to think that he must have snored himself awake when there was a soft knock on his door.

That was weird.

He cocked his head to look inquisitively at his door as if it would explain what was happening of its own volition. If he had done something wrong, the Air Force would not hesitate to just let themselves in without the demure, three o'clock in the morning announcement.

The soft knock came again accompanied by a whispered, "Daniel!"

That was enough to get him up. He stretched and adjusted the socket on his prosthetic before stiffly making it to the door. He glanced through the peephole and his heart started pounding.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded in a harsh whisper, ushering Sam in before checking the hallway and locking the door again.

"It just kind of happened," she admitted with a shrug and a guilty smile. She knew what she had done was incredibly wrong, illegal, and technically treasonous, but she was glad she did it.

"You're going to get us arrested," Daniel said, almost gratefully. He enveloped her in a big hug and neither one let go for several minutes.

This new timeline was foreign and lonely for all three of them. And, no offense to Mitchell, Sam and Daniel had been relying on each other for over a decade in these situations. Finding each other was instinct. Even when brainwashed, possessed, or dead, their connection drew them together. A little piece of paper could only do so much.

They finally let go of the embrace when Daniel winced and shifted his weight.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, stepping aside to give him space.

"Peachy," he grumbled before he could stop himself. The O'Neill-ism was so entrenched in his vocabulary there was little he could do to weed it out. "This calls for drinks!" He forced a smile and went to the kitchen.

Sam distracted herself from asking questions about his leg by looking around his apartment. It was nice, minimalist, which was wholly un-Daniel: the undisputed king of clutter, keepsakes, and knick-knacks. She took comfort in seeing he had been steadily building up his new library and when he reappeared with a cane in his left hand and a loaded tray expertly balanced in the other she instinctually moved to help him.

"I got it," he assured her. And, true to his word, he gracefully deposited his load onto the coffee table without anything so much as rattling.

"Since when are you so coordinated?" Sam asked, slipping easily into their old relationship, and suddenly worried she'd offended him.

"Fluke," he winked at her. "It's okay, you know," he added reading her easily. "I may be old and cranky, but I'm still me. "

"I don't know how to…" Sam floundered. She had been so pleased that her impulsive plan worked she hadn't thought about what know felt so obvious.

"Sam, it's just karmic payback for all the jokes I made about Jack's old man knees."

He stared her down with a smirk until she finally cracked.

"You going to open the wine, or should I?" Sam asked. "I mean, you still have two hands, don't you?"

Daniel chuckled. "Now you're getting it." He opened the first bottle of wine, knowing him and Sam he'd brought out two, and poured generously. "Just push that out of your way," he nodded at his laptop.

"Your new book?" she asked, saving the open document before closing the lid.

"Yeah."

"I look forward to it." She downed half her glass in one swig. She had been surprised when the first book had been delivered. She thought it was a mistake and she had gotten someone else's Amazon order. But the author M.C. Ballard along with the inscription "To my friends locked out of time, this is better than nothing" told her exactly why the package was addressed to her. The time-traveling fantasy novel was pure Daniel, even if he exaggerated a few of the details. Who would know the difference except for his friends who had been at the real-life events that he used as fodder?

"If I can ever finish it."

"I really liked the first one. I didn't know you could write like that."

Daniel shrugged. "Wasn't allowed to do much else."

"Tell me about it."

"What do you do?"

This time Sam shrugged. "Kids Science Museum, I host a weekly experiment workshop. Frankly, I'm surprised I got the clearance. I guess it seemed innocent enough. It's actually a lot of fun. I'd forgotten what it was like to inspire someone to get into science."

Daniel laughed, appreciatively. "If you get your own PBS show I'll call in a donation."

"That's me, the Bill Nye of Portland."

''You're in Portland?"

"It's a nice town."

"I know, I've been there. Well, the other there… our there. You know what I mean." He cleared his throat and followed Sam's example with the wine, gulping it down. "Have you heard anything from Mitchell?"

Sam smiled and looked away guilty. "He's in Nebraska."

Daniel choked on his wine. "How did you find that out?"

"Probably better I don't tell you."

"Same way you found me?"

"You were easier. There's an entire fan girl community that stalks you online."

"What?"

"You have groupies," she teased him.

"I don't have groupies."

"You have fangirls."

"I do not," he insisted.

"God, I miss this," Sam shook her head and reached for the wine bottle. "I hate being stuffed away somewhere, brushed under the rug." She refilled her glass and topped off Daniel's. "I can't believe this is it. This is all we're ever going to have. We've saved the world, the god-damn galaxy, and they treat us like criminals. They took the Stargate away from us and then the rest of our lives out of spite. I mean, you should have heard the list of restrictions. Anything I had any skill at is forbidden. I'm surprised they let me own a computer."

"It's as if they knew you'd be inclined to show up at my door in the middle of the night," Daniel pointed out reasonably. "We need food." He got up and sat back down quickly.

"Lightweight," Sam teased him.

He frowned at her. "Goddamn it, Jack," he grumbled. "One time, one time. It's been twelve years and I still haven't lived it down."

"I've been drinking with you for those twelve years. You're a lightweight."

"An undeserved reputation."

"Prove it." Sam reached for the second bottle of wine and the corkscrew.

"What are we, undergrads? I have to prove I'm cool, now?"

"We're two friends breaking the law," she waved the freshly opened bottle at him. "So we may as well get smashed."

"Okay, before we pull the trigger on this, let's get our supplies in order because drunk-gimp doesn't walk so well." Daniel hoisted himself up, staying upright this time, and beckoned Sam to come with him. He led the way to the kitchen.

"This is new," Sam whistled between her teeth. Gone was Daniel's nearly bare cupboards, stale cereal, and fuzzy cheese. Instead, his kitchen was stocked with an array of gadgets and machines, there was a hydroponic herb garden, canisters of flour and other baking ingredients lined the counters. "You got fancy."

"I have time on my hands." He started in the pantry. "Help yourself," he gestured Sam to the fridge.

She was pleasantly surprised to find a spread of fresh produce, artisan sliced meat and cheese, and mason jars of something homemade and delicious looking. "Really fancy."

"Get to hauling, Carter. " Daniel had two baguettes in the crook of his arm and another bottle of wine in his hand. "There's a cheesecake in the freezer."

"I like fancy Daniel," Sam smiled appreciatively; she knew a homemade cheesecake when she saw one.

"Oh!" Daniel had a fit of inspiration and nodded at the pantry. "I have cherries, like this syrupy thing it's in a jar."

"I'll grab it."

They reconvened in the living room, their bounty spread out on the coffee table. Fresh bread, berries, a selection of cheeses, salami, cheesecake, and wine. Sam had even taken the liberty of harvesting some of the mint from the garden to go with their dessert.

"When did you get so high, class?" Sam asked breaking the also homemade bread.

"Going to the store is a pain sometimes," he admitted. "So I use one of those delivery services and I was too self-conscious to keep ordering bachelor food. "

Sam laughed and leaned on his shoulder. "Sometimes I love you."

"Just sometimes? Where's the loyalty? I love you. Like a normal person, you know, all the time."

Sam laughed again and sat up a bit, meeting his gaze. Already feeling buzzed from their speedy drinking on empty stomachs, there was a moment of confused priorities before they both looked away.

"Sorry," Daniel mumbled.

"I don't know what that was," Sam agreed.

"It's kinda normal," he brushed it off. "Not that we should…. Just it's normal to think about it."

"You think about it?" she asked, in what she hoped was an indifferent tone.

"No, I mean, not yes, but..." he turned his attention to his wine. "You know."

"Yeah, I know. Me, too." She admitted. "That's not why I came," she added quickly. "I'm not…. I mean, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Me, too."

They sat, keeping their eyes averted from each other, but not moving apart. They ate and drank in silence, opening the third bottle of wine.

"We could see what happens," Daniel was the first to speak again. "We don't have to. But we don't have to not. If that's okay with you. I mean, if it's weird we're not going to see each other again anyway."

"If we do and it's weird?" Sam tried to clarify.

"Or if we don't and… I think it's safe to say that we're noting going to un-weird tonight. We're too far gone. So either way."

Sam barked out a laugh. "We're grown adults for crying out loud. If we decide to have sex we should at least be able to say it. We can see how the night goes and for the record sex is on the table, okay. I am game if that's what happens."

"Yeah," Daniel squared his shoulders renewed with confidence. "We'll just see what happens."

"This is still weird," Sam admitted.

"Still weird," he agreed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Wait, you called him?" Sam demanded two hours and many calories later. "You called him. You actually called him?"

"I called him."

"And said what?"

"That he was right and he needed to believe in himself more."

"How did you even know how to get a hold of him? Does he have your old phone number?"

"He was at my usual hotel. The poor guy is less than an hour away from where Langford found the Stargate, which proves his theories and he'll never get that. He's going to be a joke for the rest of his life. He needed to know one person believes him," Daniel insisted.

"So what did he say?"

"A few choice words and then he hung up on me."

Sam laughed, dipping her finger into the cherry syrup in the jar and eating it that way, the cheesecake was gone but the homemade syrup was too good not to keep eating. "I don't know what's worse, knowing that there's another you out there or being dead."

"You could be like Mitchell and not even exist."

"That one's worse," Sam decided.

"I went to her grave," Daniel admitted, abruptly. "At the Arlington National Cemetery."

"Why would you do that?"

Daniel shrugged and finished off the last baguette. "I missed you. I was in town. You know that nerd weekend we kept planning but never did?"

"Tour all the Smithsonian's?"

"I was visiting a specialist and made a long weekend of it. Since it was our weekend, I wanted to include you. Kind of a morbid way to do it, but it was all I could think of."

"Morbid, but really sweet." Sam leaned against the far arm of the couch and put her feet up in Daniel's lap. "I assume you brought me flowers."

"I did." Daniel started massaging her feet, absent-mindedly.

"What kind?"

"Sunflowers. I remember it's your favorite painting and anything else was too somber. They weren't for her, they were for you."

Sam relaxed as his hands slowly worked their way up her legs, massaging as they went, loosening muscles she didn't even know were tense. He paused as his fingers brushed the hem of her skirt, a few inches above her knees. She sighed contentedly and stretched further across the couch, inviting him to continue. He took his time, an unfamiliar yet inviting glint in his eye. He was well practiced and generous, building up the tension and pausing for some hint of permission before he wormed his fingers under the elastic of her waistband. He propped himself over her with his free hand, and impulsively she met his lips biting and pulling, running her hands through his hair, thrusting with the rhythm of his fingers.

"Holy, shit!" Sam groaned, panting as he finished the job. "How the hell did you learn how to do that?"

"I know how to do a lot more than that if you're interested." His voice was soft and deep, their eyes locked and Sam knew he wasn't bragging, he was offering. "We'll need a bit more room, though."

Sam sat up so quickly she nearly knocked him off the couch. Daniel laughed, catching his balance. Sam laughed, too, a little embarrassed, a little excited, and very enthusiastic. Three bottles of wine had banished any inhibitions the old friends had and welcomed with benefits to their relationship.

"I bet I have a few things I could teach you," Sam teased him, sliding out from under him. She headed to the door she assumed led to his bedroom. "You coming?" she asked coyly over her shoulder.

"I think that's up to you," he answered.

"Is that a challenge?" she purred, slipping out of sight and disrobing, tossing each item of clothing through the door frame, teasing her new partner. "I'm waiting," she called, arranging herself on his bed.

"Just, give me a minute," his irritated tone a sharp contrast to the playful exchange.

"Already?" she asked, admittedly disappointed.

"Just, hang on."

She got up when he didn't appear after a minute. He was in the living room and had been in the process of undressing when a wave of self-consciousness had hit him. Sam paused, as he shifted his weight in front of her, blushing a little.

"Well that seems to be working just fine," she grinned, strutting to him, trying to distract his nerves.

"I just haven't…. not since…"

"Who knew you were hiding that under all those boring khakis," she purposefully ignored his prosthetic and put her arms around his waist. "You're full of surprises." She kissed him and waited for him to relax. "But so am I." She went back to his room and this time he followed.

He paused one last time, before joining her. "Thank you."

"You may be old and cranky, but you're still you," she said pulling him to her. "And I still have a few things to teach you."

"You think so?" he challenged, back in the mood. "I have a few more tricks of my own."

"We have all day," Sam's voice was breathy and inviting.

Daniel was impulsively drawn to her. Sam had always been a friend, easily one of his best friends, but never more than that. It had never occurred to him to think of her as anything else. She was attractive and he'd always known that; he was human, he noticed attractive women, but whatever it was that took to for the desire to move from friend to more than friend had never come into play. Seeing her tonight, after being separated for nearly a year, it quickly became all he could think of. He was a teenager again.

Her hair felt like satin between his fingers and, as he nuzzled her neck, the familiar scent of sugar cookies surrounded him. He was intoxicated by her scent, by the taste of her lips, by the sultry movement of her hips as she set their rhythm.

"I have an idea," he whispered, reaching for the bedside table and grabbing the remote control to his stereo. "Tell me if you don't like it." A few clicks and he got the music playing.

Sam couldn't pinpoint why, but the tribal drums were an oddly erotic and specifically Daniel touch. It made her feel primal and eager. She dug her nails into his back, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him.

"I have an idea, too," she whispered in his ear.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Good afternoon," Daniel said when Sam woke up, her head on his chest, still holding him.

"How long have you been up?" she asked.

"Couple hours."

"You're such an insomniac."

"I had a lot to think about so I can remember what to do next time."

"Learn a thing or two, did you?" She ran her fingers across his abdomen, slowly drawing a trail downward.

"I think I need time before I can go again," Daniel laughed. "Last night was a record for me."

"Me, too."

"So now what? I don't think we should risk going out."

Neither was sure how to proceed. Friends with benefits wasn't new to either one of them, and the relationship shift didn't seem to change anything. It was the legality they weren't sure how to address. Sam was supposed to be in Oregon, not Massachusetts and certainly not in Daniel's apartment. They didn't know how closely they were monitored. Neither had noticed a tail and all check-ins had been scheduled. But there was a matter of taking too many chances. They had gotten away with this much, but weren't inclined to press their luck.

"Order in?" Sam offered.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

At three a.m., almost exactly twenty-four hours after her unexpected arrival, Sam gathered her things to sneak out the same way she snuck in.

"We're never going to be able to do this again," Daniel lamented, watching her get ready.

"Depends on if we get caught for this time." She had a wicked streak. Rebellion looked good on her.

"Don't tempt me. It's bad enough I'm thinking of how exactly to word a request for permission to make a booty call."

"Please don't ever say the words booty call again," Sam laughed. "You sound ridiculous." She shouldered her bag and did a quick mental check to make sure she had everything. "I guess this is it."

Daniel sighed and moved in for a hug. "I really miss you."

"I miss you, too."

They shared a goodbye kiss, far more intimate than their previous quick pecks on the cheek.

"Same time next year?" Sam offered.

"Yeah, same time next year," he agreed.

Sam slipped out the door quietly; none of Daniel's neighbors the wiser that he'd had company. He strode across the living room and peeked out the curtains and saw her saunter confidently down the street and disappear around the corner. He stared at the corner for a few seconds longer than he should have.

Daniel sighed and shook his head. He went to the couch and sank into the familiar cushions. He tilted his head back and tried to wrap his mind around what happened. It would have never happened in their own timeline, where they belonged. This timeline was more confusing and isolating than ever.

But for now, everything was quiet. As usual. As he was contractually obligated to keep it.