A/N: At end. Thanks, as always, to Tammy for an exceptional (and clarifying) beta on this story.

Set after Crossroads, on a planet of my own making. Episode synopsis: Teal'c is reunited with his lost love, Shaun'auc, a woman who claims to have found a way to communicate with her symbiote and defeat the Goa'uld. SG-1 joins forces with the Tok'ra in order to put her plan into effect, but a deadly, hidden secret could jeopardizes the operation.

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Asking is Okay

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SGC
Sam Carter's Lab
1656 Local (MST)

Sam bit her lip as she listened to the young officer sitting before her. Lieutenant Danning was trembling as she spoke, each word seeming to fall reluctantly from her lips. As her eyes filled again with tears, Sam reached blindly behind her and snagged the box of tissue next to her monitor.

"Here," she said, keeping her voice soft, not wanting to stop the Lieutenant once she'd finally begun speaking. She wished she'd thought to close the door when Danning had come in, asking haltingly if the "Major had a moment." Sam really didn't want anyone to just pop in—a shadow in the hallway caught her eye. As though her thought had summoned him, she glanced up to see a familiar figure framed in the doorway and, despite the pleased twinge that raced through her midsection at his appearance, knew she had to send him away.

The Colonel opened his mouth and then froze as he caught Sam's miniscule head shake. He flicked his gaze from Sam to the huddled form of the junior officer perched on a stool before her. Catching Sam's gaze, he raised an eyebrow in question.

Careful not to draw attention to him—or their nonverbal conversation—Sam silently promised him an explanation later. When his eyes tightened in response, she again felt a warmth spread through her. God how she loved. . .that they could speak this way.

With a last tilt of his head, O'Neill reached forward and silently pulled closed the door to Sam's lab, leaving it just slightly ajar. Sam knew that would be enough to keep all but the most tenacious intruders out.

As the door swung closed, Sam focused her attention once again on the tearful officer before her.

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M3D-316
15Km ESE of Stargate
Base of Ancient Ruins
2115 SGCST (SGC Standard Time)
Just past sunset, moon rotational time.

"Carter?"

Sam started at the sound of O'Neill's voice. Looking up at the frustrated and slightly puzzled

expression on his face, she realized it probably wasn't the first time he'd called her name. She glanced guiltily around to see if anyone else had noticed her lapse. Their campsite was quieting down and she could hear muffled discussion coming from the adjacent site. Everyone was settling in for the evening. Looking across the fire, she saw that thankfully both Daniel and Teal'c were focused on their own conversation, and the group her Colonel had labeled "the science geeks" were oblivious. . .as usual.

As she regained her bearings a steaming mug of appeared before her eyes and Sam blinked in surprise. She reached automatically to take the mug from him, sniffing and appreciating the warm aroma of. . .chocolate?

She looked over at O'Neill as he settled himself beside her and he shrugged. "Seemed like a good night for it."

"Yeah."

"So," he said, stretching his legs out before the fire. "What's up?"

"Up, Sir?" Sam sipped her rich, chocolately drink.

"Up, Carter." O'Neill waved vaguely with his mug and then turned his brown eyes on her. "Up. . .as in, not down."

Sam hesitated. She thought again of Danning's problem and knew that she was out of her depth. The problem was, that asking for help meant opening a can of worms she wasn't sure she could stomach. Danning had insisted that she was okay with Sam speaking to O'Neill about it, but still. . .Sam knew that once she took this next step, heads would roll.

On the other hand, she couldn't stand the thought of seeing a good officer. . .ruined. . .by what was happening. She sighed, blowing across the top of her still-steaming mug. Either way, she was afraid that Danning's career would be over. At least at the SGC.

Beside her she could feel O'Neill's frustration, though he was keeping it fairly well hidden at the moment. She glanced at him and opened her mouth to speak when Daniel spoke up across the fire.

"Jack?"

"Daniel."

"I'm going to head back over to–"

"Geeksville?"

"Jack."

"Daniel."

"J–"

"O'Neill." Teal'c's deep voice cut through Daniel's predictable response. "I, too, can be found at the other site. There is someone with whom I wish to speak."

Sam looked up to where Teal'c stood, a still form in the deepening darkness. "You okay, Teal'c?"

"I am, indeed, Major Carter."

He offered her a slight bow and Sam knew he was responding to both the question she'd asked and what she had not. It had been barely a week since his return from the weeklong burial services on Chulak and Sam knew that he was still deeply hurting following Shaun'auc's murder. She wondered why he felt the need to go to the other site, though, there was nothing here to remind him of her. Sam turned to Jack, silently asking him what was happening.

Jack glanced at her and, after studying her face for a moment, turned back to Teal'c and nodded. "Fine, T. Do me a favor? Take the leftover gee– er," he glanced again at Sam and then amended his statement, "ah, scientists with you."

Teal'c nodded again and stepped away from the fire without a word, clearly expecting the others to follow. Sam bit back a smile as Daniel tapped Doctors Sorel and Grader on the shoulder, waving them after Teal'c's rapidly disappearing form. When they were gone, Sam turned to O'Neill.

"What's up with Teal'c?"

"Got me."

"Hm." Sam settled deeper into her seat, enjoying the warmth of the blazing fire Teal'c had built earlier. She shifted slightly, enjoying the brief contact of her Colonel's arm against hers. Her enjoyment was marred, however, as she thought again of Karen Danning. Karen didn't have the luxury of enjoying innocent. . .mostly. . .contact with her CO. Nothing about her situation was anything she could enjoy.

O'Neill idly poked at the fire, his attention seemingly on his task, though Sam knew he was focused on her. Sometimes she wondered if he could hear her thinking.

"I can hear you, you know."

"Sir?" She couldn't help it, the word came out an undignified squeak. She cleared her throat, but before she could say anything, he turned to look at her and just shook his head. Not even a real headshake, just a slight twitch.

Sam held his gaze, reveling in the strength and support she saw there. The night deepened around them, bringing with it a dampness that should have permeated everything, but. . .for a time, was held at bay. Deep, throaty calls from the toad-like creatures ranging on the edge of the nearby stream punctuated the silence, adding to the bright snap and crackle of the fire before them. The power of that brown-eyed stare was an almost tangible thing, and Sam realized just how much she depended on that strength.

"I. . .I need your help."

O'Neill kept his gaze on hers as he leaned back and turned to face her. He resettled himself and just waited.

Sam set aside her hot chocolate and turned toward him, her legs crossed. She fidgeted, twisting her hands in her lap, trying to figure out where to start. A second later she reached forward and picked at the laces of her boots, winding them around her fingers in an absent twisting motion. Twice she opened her mouth and twice she changed her mind. The silence between them grew until she was sure her tension was visible. She almost jumped out of her skin when hands reached forward and gently untangled her fingers from her bootlaces.

"You need my help. . .to strangle your bootlaces?" He gave her fingers a quick squeeze and then released her. "I think you've done the job. . .Sam."

That broke the tension. Sam shook her head and took another deep breath. "You know how we have this place," and she gestured toward the fire, "where it's a. . ."

"Penalty-free zone? Yeah."

"I need that to happen now. . .Sir." She couldn't quite bring herself to use his name as he had hers, though she knew that here, in this place, it would be okay.

"Always. Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"Okay." With a last deep breath Sam told him everything. "Have you met Lieutenant Danning?" She caught his eye and shrugged. "Right. Sorry. 'Course you have. Anyway. . ." And Sam dove in, telling him everything Danning had shared with her. The stalking, the harassment, the unending phone calls. The threats and the latest thing, the assault. Through it all, O'Neill sat silently, his unwavering gaze on hers, the only outward sign of his reaction was the gradual darkening of his expression. When, finally, she was done, Sam sat quietly, waiting for his response.

And waiting.

After several more long moments, she ducked her head and then leaned forward. He was staring at her, but his expression was blank. Eerily blank. Tentatively, Sam lifted a hand and reached out to rest it on his arm. "Sir?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

O'Neill blinked and then seemed to refocus on her. When he spoke his voice was low and Sam could feel the anger radiating from him. Could feel the vibration of it under her hand. "Does the Lieutenant. . .does Karen," he amended, "know who it is?"

This time it was Sam who held his gaze, willing him to calm down. "Yes."

"Did she tell you?"

"Yes."

"And you're not volunteering that because. . .?"

"Because. . .she came to me, Sir. I'm her section head, she works for me."

"Carter, she's a member of the SGC. She works for the United States Air Force."

"She's a member of my team, Colonel."

"And you, Sam, are mi– a member of my team."

"Sir," Sam took a deep breath, suddenly aware that her hand was still on his arm. She knew she should remove it but she really didn't want to. "Sir, part of the problem is that the. . .person. . .doing the. . .causing the problem is part of–"

"Are you telling–" O'Neill cut her off. "This guy is a member of the SGC?"

"Yes."

"Carter!"

"Sir!" Sam reared back at the expression on his face. "Karen was pretty sure it was. . .the person. There was nothing to really tie him to all of it. It's not like he signed his notes."

O'Neill scrubbed his hands through his hair, then dragged his hands down his face. "But," he mumbled as his hands passed his lips, "She's sure?"

"Yeah." Sam dropped her elbows to her knees and rested her chin on her fists. "Since the assault yesterday–"

"And by 'assault' you mean. . .'"

"He threw something at her in the parking lot."

"He hit her?"

"Missed. Scared her, though. Badly."

"Did you report it?"

"She did." Sam grimaced. "The OOD took the report and said he'd speak to. . .the person. She felt like it, the report, wouldn't do more than make the guy angry. . .angrier," she amended, emphasizing the last syllable. "Karen's offworld with SG-4 for a week, so I'm not worried about her. For now."

"Guess that eliminates anyone on SG-4. So, Car–" O'Neill scrubbed his face again and then mimicked her pose, resting his hands on his knees and leaning forward. "Sam. . .you said you needed my help, but you won't tell me who it is."

"Yes. And. . .no." She gave him a small smile, despite the seriousness of the situation. "I don't want you. . .or Teal'c, or Daniel even, just going and kicking this guy's ass."

"I could, you know." He paused and cocked his head. "And so could you, for that matter."

"I know."

"And I would."

"Yes, Sir." And this time Sam's smile grew. "I need to know how to handle this. I mean, I know we can report him, we can bring him up on charge, we can do the whole 'book tossing' thing at him, but, I want to solve this. . .creatively. I want it to never happen again. You know how the SGC rumor mill works" She exchanged a small smile with him, they both knew only too well just how effective the base gossip-line was. "I want everyone to know that this sort of thing will not be tolerated." She ducked her head again and then met his eyes. "Doing it officially could and would be messy. We both know that. So, most importantly, I really want to make sure nothing happens to Karen. She didn't ask for this, she doesn't deserve this."

"Nobody does."

"True."

"That day in your office. . .she was telling you. . ."

"All of it. Yes, Sir." Sam sighed and shifted in her seat, aborting her first urge to fidget again with her laces. "She's convinced that it's her fault. I've tried telling her that it wasn't, that none of Coo–" she sucked in a breath, "uh, the guy's actions are her fault."

O'Neill was silent for a few moments, long enough for Sam to glance up at him, uncertainly. "What else?" He rumbled softly.

"Sir?"

The Colonel took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. "This sort of thing. . .it usually just makes you mad, Carter. Not. . ." He waved at her hunched figure and fidgeting fingers. "Not. . .whatever it is you are right now."

Sam felt her jaw drop slightly at his words. As they sank in, she straightened up, her fingers loosening their hold on each other. He was right. She'd internalized Danning's issue and. . .and. . .oh, wow. She realized that she was feeling as trapped and hunted as Karen Danning was. And she thought she was long past that.

Some of what she was feeling must have shown in her expression, because O'Neill nodded slightly and leaned toward her. "This wouldn't happen to you, you know."

"Why, because I'm strong? Karen Danning's pretty strong, Sir. And she's caught in this mess that she had no part in making."

"It wouldn't happen to you. . .because. . .well, just because." O'Neill backed off, his color rising as he flicked his gaze away, then back to her.

Sam met his gaze again and felt her heart stutter at the expression on his face.

Fierce.

Protective.

Loving.

"It did," she whispered. "Happen to me. Remember?"

O'Neill's expression changed again as he clearly remembered the team's experience with Jonas Hansen. And what he'd learned after. "That bad?"

"Yes." She shrugged, trying to pass off her experience. "'Course, I was engaged to the guy."

"Doesn't mean you asked for it."

"True."

"Still. . .the same sort of stuff happen to you?"

"Worse."

"Damn." He cocked his head to one side. "Sorry."

She ducked her head for a moment, then looked up at him. "So," she said, trying to take the focus off of her past. "What do I do?"

"We."

"Sir. . ."

"We, Sam. It's always 'we.'"

"Oh."

"Don't forget it." He rubbed his hands together and reached for his coffee cup. "So. . .here's what I think. . ."

And together they worked out a plan, brilliant in its simplicity, but effective. One, Sam hoped, which would prompt Karen's tormentor to request a transfer to. . .Russia worked for her. Sam felt her confidence rise as they talked, appreciating more than once the devious brilliance that made her CO's who he was.

As they wound down, Sam felt the tension drain away. It was really dark now and they'd let the fire burn low as they'd talked. She hunched down deeper into her seat, suddenly aware of the cold and damp now that they were silent. She leaned forward and tossed another log on the fire, then watched as her Colonel poked and rearranged the log to his satisfaction. She allowed herself the rare luxury of simply watching him as he fiddled. Watched his long fingers as they held the branch. Traced the contours of his face limned in burnished firelight.

She wanted to say something to him. To let him know how much it meant to her that she could come to him and that he wouldn't think she was weak.

"Colonel?"

"Hm?"

"At the risk of sounding. . .whatever, I really appreciate knowing I can go to you and say 'help,' and that you're there."

"I meant it, Carter. Always."

He poked a few more times at the fire and then settled back again, crossing his arms and legs and watching the rising flames with an air of satisfaction.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know. . .if I'd known you then. . .or him. . .I'd have kicked his ass."

"I know."

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End.

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Author's note: As I've said in the past, I process things by writing. I had an incident this week that made me be Sam. I went to a trusted colleague and mentor and said, "help." In fact, Sam's line about appreciating the she could do so with Jack is just about what I said to my mentor.

This wasn't the promised Pi story. That'll come after I complete my doctoral qualifying exams (which cover the next two weeks).