THUNDER

Sam sits in the coffee shop. She's been here longer than she's planned, since the clouds broke suddenly. She watches the rain beat down on the window panes, the now clear street, and her parked car.

Unable to move, her thoughts mutinously rise to her consciousness and force her to process them.

She hates Colonel O'Neill. He is ridiculously impossible. She knows the job comes with its own perilous choices, but the man has a knack of always choosing the one that puts him in the most danger.

Just then lightening strikes, and she finds herself waiting for the thunder. Sometimes that's what it feels like working with him. Lightening strikes frequently and she usually finds herself waiting for that thunder.

Just then the skies shouted triumphantly.

Thundered.

Sitting there, she concludes, is her latest exercise in this unhappy pursuit.

Lightening - Downloading ancient knowledge into Colonel O'Neill's brain

Thunder - Waiting for him to die

Sam brings the coffee cup to her lips and takes a sip, savoring its rich, almost bitter taste. Swallowing the hot liquid she looks up at the clouds. They are lighter now, having released some of their burden. Smiling wryly to herself she wonders if the clouds hold a message for her, consciously trapping her in an attempt to ensure that she gets it.

Taking another sip of her coffee, she figures she has. Maybe it was time to lighten her burden - at least this one.

The rain finally subsides. Finishing off her drink she disposes of the cup and exits the shop. Walking hastily, she gets into her car, starts the engine but she just sits there.

She hates Colonel O'Neill; his decision to sacrifice his life with such non-chalance, without a thought about the people who care about him; hates the fact that her feelings for him are leaning far more toward the other side of hate; hates the fact that she doesn't know what to tell him; how to tell him; or even if she should.

Sam places both hands on the steering wheel and leans forward, rests her head on her hands, breathes in deeply, slowly exhaling. Rising from that position, Sam's eyes find the clouds again. This time they show off a silver lining and again she smiles. "OK," she confesses to no one but the clouds, "I get it."

Shifting into gear Sam checks her rearview mirror before pulling into the wet street that also seems to have a silver covering. An illusion created by the moisture and persistent sun.

"Come on Dorothy." Sam encourages herself, "Just follow the silver brick road." Her Wizard of Oz reference is only more evidence that she has been spending too much time in the Colonel's presence, his mannerisms sub-consciously becoming a part of her own.

Driving slowly she thinks about what she will say to him, rehearsing some lines in her head. Before she knows it, Sam is in Jack's driveway, as though her car is more anxious to get her there than she is. Peeping out at the front door, she exits her car, walks up the walkway and rings the bell.

Impressed with herself that she has made it this far, she whispers "Hail Dorothy."

Almost lightening fast the door opens and Jack stands before her.

As she beings to nervously mumble about the car driving her over here, Sam looks deep into Jack's eyes, and refuses to submit to the coming thunder.

End.