Sam wandered around Daniel's office. It was as cluttered as ever, but felt cold and empty now that its occupant was gone. Her fingers brushed over endless books in languages she couldn't even begin to understand. Give her a naquadah reactor any day. Unbidden, tears started rolling down her cheek. Selfishly, she cried not only for her lost friend, but for herself. It was like she'd suddenly been made aware of her own mortality. It sounded stupid, but she'd never truly considered that he could die, that Jack could die, that Teal'c could die, that she could die. They got into trouble, sure, but always got out of it. That was how things were supposed to be. But not anymore. They were all fair game to the Grim Reaper now.
She picked up a particularly tatty book, breathing in the old-book smell that would forever make her think of Daniel. She kissed the top of it, lost in her grief. A noise behind her made her turn around. Hammond stood in the doorway.
"Major."
His familiar, comforting aura of authority pulled her back into tough solider mode.
"Sir."