A/N: Thanks for the supportive reviews, guys! It's great to hear you like it. :D Now, this is going to be a little longer than I planned because of the introduction of this random farm. What do you all think of that, anyway? I also realised that I haven't included Mark Carter in this and that the date of her mother's death maybe be after the time this is set in. But it's winter 1981 and, seen as it's still in the 1980s and the Stargate Wiki says that's when she died, I'll just assume she's already dead. And as for her brother... Too late to change it, so I'll have to leave it.

I don't own anything but the nut job who disappeared from the farm. And I don't even want the rights to him. O.o Enjoy the chapter!

Sam gave the door of the farmhouse a gentle push and it creaked open, releasing an eerie sound in the process. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine.

"Forget weeks, this place looks like it hasn't been lived in for months," Daniel said, entering the room after her and shutting the door behind him. "Look at all the dust."

"Well, everything's made of wood, isn't it?" Sam pointed out. She swept a finger over the wall panels and covered her fingertips with grey-white dots. Blowing them away, she turned back to Daniel. "See? Well, we're not going to stay here forever. I think we can put up with it."

"Yeah..." he nodded. Just then, there conversation was interrupted by a loud growl - from Sam's stomach. An amused smile spread across her companion's face. "It looks like someone's hungry."

"Don't look so smug, I bet you're just looking for an excuse to make me cook something," she teased in return. Then it struck her. "Actually, Daniel, what are we going to eat? Like you said, no one's been here in ages and I doubt there's a book around here about how to become a farm hand overnight."

"Check the cupboards and the fridge. This place has a fridge, right?" his brow creased and Sam raised a finger, marching off into another room. A few seconds passed and then she yelled back to him.

"It's got a fridge! And a freezer. Better come in here and take a look," she told him. Daniel started in the direction she had disappeared and found her at the far end of the kitchen. She waved to him, wincing as her insides protested, again, to the lack of nutrients. "The bread looks bad."

"And I think we can count the meat out, don't you?" he pointed to a slab of some unrecognizable meat that had begun to gather mould. Sam leaned away, almost stepping on his feet, and held her nose.

"Yeah, I think we can," she nodded. Daniel sniggered as his arms fell to his side again. Sam gave him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Sorry," he muttered although he seemed to feel quite the opposite. Exasperated, Sam put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him. "You, err, sounded funny. With your nose like that."

"Seriously? This is about my nose?" a little laugh escaped her throat. His middle name was timid? More like cheeky.

"Not about your nose. Not that it's not a nice nose, I guess," Daniel clamped his mouth shut with all the will he could muster. What on earth was he saying? The next thing he knew, she was giggling. Sam rested a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, having let go of her nose, and her mirthful blue eyes flickered towards his.

"Thanks. You don't have a bad nose either..." she snorted and turned back to the fridge. "Come on, I'm starving. Check that cupboard over there."

"Right. I think there are some cans in here," he called over his shoulder. He picked up cans of mixed fruits and vegetables to get some idea of how long they'd been there. "The fruit doesn't look bad. Vegetables, I'm not so keen on. If the first time I get to eat what I want involves them, I might consider travelling alone."

"You wouldn't," she narrowed her eyes and spun round to face him. Uncertainty seeped into her voice - despite how kind he'd been, a tiny part of her was still wary of the stranger in him.

"Of course I wouldn't," she sighed in relief. "After all, who would cook for me if I didn't have you?"

"Daniel!"

He must have died and gone to Heaven. Or perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't touched a crumb of food in the past 24 hours. Either way, Daniel was one step further away from regretting their decision to run away - especially if he felt so dreamy after every meal.

"Mmm," Sam strolled in behind him, hands tangled with a hand towel. She'd insisted on washing their dishes too - it was 'light work' and he, apparently, was likely to smash something if she let him near anything more fragile than cutlery.

"I answered my own question," he told her, grinning. She raised an eyebrow (a common occurrence that evening) and sat opposite him at the recently 'dusted' wooden table. "No one would cook for me if I didn't have you. Nice work."

"Thanks," she blushed. "Me and Dad learned together... He had to take cooking lessons because my mum had...an accident."

"An accident? You mean..." Sam nodded. "Wow, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It couldn't be helped. Besides, being able do our own chores gives us a better chance alone. All we really need is food, a place to sleep and some money, right?"

"I suppose. Talking of time, how do we know what time it is out here? You know, to wake up and go to bed, all that."

"The sky. If the sun's setting, it's time to go to bed. And the light should wake us up in the morning. I think it's our best bet," she said, depositing the towel she'd been holding on the kitchen counter.

"Okay. Well, the sun's setting," he gestured out of the window. And, just as he had told her, Sam saw an amber glow stretched out along the horizon.

"Let's go find places to sleep, then."

God, Daniel thought, I hope this place has two bedrooms.

Sam turned beneath the sheets of her bed - Daniel had chosen a room across the hallway even though the one she occupied had two beds in it. She'd kept quiet, allowing him room for privacy, but had begun to regret it. The dark had started to leap out at her. Every creak of the cold, empty building seemed eerie and terrifying. Whistling wind passed by outside and she squirmed on the mattress. Horror movies never had been her favourite. Angling her head, she stared at the closed door that lead to Daniel's room.

Is he scared too? she thought. No, he wouldn't be. He was shy when we met but he's not now, is he?

Shaking her head, Sam stood and headed for the bathroom with the hopes that, if she couldn't have a glass of milk, a glass of water would succeed in calming her down. She pushed the door open and stepped in, footsteps amplified by the floorboards. With one hand, she cleaned the dust off of the mirror and tested the taps.

"All in working order. Great," she hummed to herself. Water trickled from the tap at a steady pace. The noise was comforting in the way it shattered the silence. "I don't like silence, either, buddy," she whispered. Then she heard the hiss. A chill wrapped around her.

Who opened a window? she shivered, attempting humour to drag herself through the wall of fear that stood tall before her. But the sounds got louder and the temperature darted down below freezing. And colder. And colder. Until a dead silence fell.

"D-Daniel," she stuttered out. And then again, louder, as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Daniel!"

No reply came. Her fingertips dug into her flesh so hard that she knew it'd bruise. Though, she was beyond caring. All she wanted to do was run. Out of the room, out of the house. But her feet remained rooted to the floor even as mist gathered at the doorway. It collected and rose, forming a shape. A man.

Daniel rushed into the bathroom as the scream tore from her throat, seizing her limply by the shoulders.

"Sam, what's wrong?" when he received no reply, he asked once more. "Sam, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost..."

"Daniel, I did," she whimpered.

"Are you sure?" he gazed at her curiously and she nodded, swallowing. "Forget about it. I can't see it now. But, if you're worried, I can check under the bed?"

"No, silly, I'm fine," she yawned. "Daniel... Can I sleep with you?"

"What?!" Daniel gaped in shock. Had she really asked him that question?

"I mean, in your bed. With you. Just sleep..." she scrunched up her nose. "You know what I mean."

"I don't know, Sam. Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You're not still shy, are you?" she enquired and gave him a transparent, honest smile to let him know that the question wasn't a mocking one.

"No, of course not," he blinked before pointing to the door. "Ladies first."

"Sexist," she announced, striding back to his bedroom and turning around. Daniel rolled his eyes.

"You can never win..." he mused. He slipped under the covers and beckoned to her. Butterflies hatching in the pit of her stomach, she slid in next to him. Her eyes fluttered closed and a semi-comfortable silence settled over them. "You know, whatever it was is gone now."

"I know."

"And it won't come back."

"I know."

"You seem to know an awful lot."

"I could say the same about you," she giggled, right before they fell into a deep slumber.

Light filtered in through the curtain in front of the square window. It was barely the equivalent of a light bulb but enough to wake Daniel. He began to shift position and reached up to rub his eyes, until he remembered his 'roommate'. Sam was sleeping peacefully in his arms (he didn't want to think how she got there). Her nose nuzzled the arm that was wrapped around her shoulders and he couldn't help but grin when an adorable smile found its way to her features. Most boys his age would be dreaming about waking up next to their girlfriends, but he had experienced the real thing.

But it isn't, is it? She's not your girlfriend... the thought was depressing, dropping a heavy weight on top of his 'early morning' mood. He glanced down at the locks of blonde hair that were splayed across him and the bed, and thought about their owner. They had grown closer than he'd ever been with anyone. Although, for all he knew, she could have some 'back home' that was closer. More valuable.

Just then, the object of his considerations awoke. She let out a groan, leaning closer to him in her disorientation. He was about to pull away, alarmed, when he felt the edge of the bed behind him. Oops.

"Oh, morning," she chuckled. He smiled feebly. Her breath tickled his face and the tip of her nose almost touched his. She glanced downwards and realised it too. And then she brushed her nose against his. It took him a few moments to work out that it was an Eskimo kiss - by then she'd already pulled away, leaving Daniel to marvel at the warm tingle that started at his nose and spread outwards. He had to admit (with a dash of shame) that he could become addicted to the feeling of it all.

A/N: I went out on a limb there. Half of that chapter was completely unplanned (last minute inspiration and a bit of a plot change) - more than that, even. I hope that lived up to standards, anyway. See you again next chapter! :D