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Sam Carter was having an incredibly kinky dream.

It had been awhile – longer than she really wanted to admit – since she'd felt the smooth, taut lines of a man curled behind her, but never one so warm and muscled. This man was... Yes, this was going to turn into an excellent dream. He was practically melded to her, his chest flush against her back, one large hand splayed firm across her stomach, the fingers drawing soft circles on her tank top.

She lay with one leg straight and the other pulled up a little, and he had mimicked the pose in his sleep, their bodies in solid contact from her shoulders to her feet. Unbidden, memories of her great aunt telling her to leave room for the Holy Spirit came to mind, and she snuggled deeper into the warmth in rebellion.

But while that all was certainly... interesting... it was hardly the kinky part. While that warm arm held her firmly from behind, her own arms held... someone else. A lankier figure, but still very definitely male. Her leg curled over his possessively, long, lean fingers tangled in his shirt, and he held her there, his own hands heavy over hers.

He mumbled something and moved a little, settling back into the space she'd created with her own shift, pressing himself hard against her hips.

And then another thought occurred to her. Maybe this wasn't a dream at all.

And in that case, she must have been very, very, very drunk. 'Cause she was not a threesome kind of girl.

Then again, when she thought "threesome," it wasn't usually her and two very nicely built men. Maybe she needed to reconsider her stance on the idea. Nuzzling close into the back of the neck before her, she drew in a deep whiff of him – strong and musky and all man.

"Mmmm..."

Her purr – purr? Since when did she purr? – woke him. The him that was in front of her, she meant... which was getting confusing. But she didn't imagine she'd be confused for long – with the two of them awake, this dream/morning after/whatever was about to get good.

"I take it you're not cold anymore, Carter?"

In any other circumstance, that voice in combination with their proximity would have sent her off like a rocket, desperate for the sanity that a little space would provide. Unfortunately, he hadn't moved an inch, and with the second body behind her, there was absolutely nowhere for her to go. Every muscle went tense.

And then it all came flooding back – the planet, the cold, the shared sleeping bag – and all of the deliciously dirty thoughts she'd had fled her mind in a heartbeat. Damn. "No, sir," she answered through the lump in her throat. "I'm not cold."

"Good."

The body behind her pulled her even closer, and only the tone of the voice as he moaned in his sleep identified it as Daniel instead of Teal'c. And then, to add to her discomfort, he pressed a loud kiss to the back of her neck.

Colonel O'Neill, aware as always, heard it and chuckled.

Oh, this was getting way out of hand. "Daniel," she snapped, her voice a little harsher than she'd intended.

"Mmm?" he mumbled, the motion of his hand growing more intent as he buried his nose in the back of her neck.

"Daniel, if that hand drifts any further north, you and I are gonna have issues."

He shifted behind her. "Sam?" he murmured sleepily.

"Yes," she answered tersely.

"Um... Are we drunk?"

Before she could answer, the colonel spoke up. "Yes, Daniel. Very. And the sad thing is that it only took you two beers to get to this point."

"Jack?" Daniel lurched upright in alarm, clearly less pleased with the idea of what had gone on there than Sam had originally been. Unfortunately, she realized for the first time as he tried to escape that they were still in the zippered double sleeping bag combination, and the sudden upward force yanked the sides in. Sam landed on her back with a cry, awkwardly twisted around the other scientist's half-sitting form, and the colonel crashed on top of her.

"Sorry, Carter," he muttered as she grunted with the impact.

"No problem, sir," she wheezed.

It took Daniel a moment to wake fully, to remember where they were and why past the initial shock, before he twisted to face them. Ignoring their uncomfortable positions completely, he yelled, "God, Jack, don't ever do that to me again!"

Colonel O'Neill had found the zipper by then and he released his side of the bag, pushing himself just far enough away to sit upright. Still, that left Sam pinned uncomfortably between them, and she cringed. "Aw, come on, Daniel," he shot back. "We're buddies, right? We share things."

Was it possible for her to sink into the ground and die? No, probably not... the dirt below was too frozen for that. And she was still in that godforsaken sleeping bag.

"Not women, Jack. We don't share women. And... and... and it's Sam!"

"Yeah? What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

Maybe she could just disappear. Thor could suck her away in one of those lovely matter beams, and they'd never have to talk about this again.

Teal'c appeared from the treeline, more dry lumber for the fire in his arms, and raised an eyebrow at them. "Is there a problem?" he inquired dryly.

The two men's eyes locked momentarily, then moved to her, then back to each other. "No," they chorused innocently.

"Yes," she groaned.

The firewood tumbled to the ground immediately, and despite the betrayed looks she got from her other teammates, she took the solid dark hands that were offered to her. With one good tug, he yanked her easily from the sleeping bag and set her on her feet.

"Thank you."

Without her in the middle, Daniel and her CO struggled to get out of the sleeping bag and away from each other while she grabbed her jacket (that she didn't remember taking off) and put it on.

Four hours to home. It was gonna be a long walk.