A/N: It's another nice, long chapter today. Enjoy!

Measure After Measure

Toweling the excess moisture from his hair with one hand, Daniel let the other skim the counter in search of his glasses. When little spots of water were no longer dripping down onto his sweatshirt and the world had slid back into focus, he made short work of gathering up his things and exited the steamy bathroom.

Next, he made a quick stop in the laundry room, tossing his damp towels in the washing machine before wandering into the hall to return his shower kit to the overnight bag he'd stowed there. That done, he made his way into the kitchen, stopping dead in the doorway to take in the scene before him.

Teal'c was standing at the sink, up to his elbows in soapy water and talking in low tones with Sam while she perched on the edge of the counter, feet swinging distractedly. If he had to guess, Daniel would say she'd been forbidden from lifting a finger to help. The archaeologist couldn't help but be struck by how oddly domestic it seemed; the pair looked for all the world like they did this every day.

Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned against the doorframe and observed his friends.

When they'd arrived at her house, Sam had barely made it through the front door before making a beeline for the shower. In an attempt to be at least a half-way decent hostess, she'd instructed them to make themselves at home before disappearing, leaving the two men to their own devices.

The antiseptic smell that seemed to have imprinted itself on her skin over the last few days had been tolerable – just barely – while in the infirmary, but upon arriving home it had become unbearable, the smell incongruous with the environment. The scent turned her stomach, bile burning a hot trail up her throat, and the desire to wash it away had become a desperate quest. She'd spent over half an hour under the nearly scalding spray from the showerhead, scrubbing hard at her skin and hair to remove the lingering reminder of where she had spent the better part of the week. When she finally turned off the shower, it was because she'd run out of body wash; Sam swore she still reeked of the antiseptic's sharp tang.

Emerging from the bathroom, she'd found Daniel and Teal'c watering the last of her plants, having already taken out the garbage, sorted her mail, cleaned out her fridge and, embarrassingly enough, taken out the garbage again. They'd both assured her they hadn't minded, but she'd still felt bad about it; it was one thing to be there as bodyguards, it was another to be there as housekeepers.

Neither man had commented on the unusual length of her shower, nor the fact that she'd rubbed her skin raw, but by silent agreement, they would be sharing their observations with Janet tomorrow. They would also be telling her about how much the antiseptic smell that had leeched into their own clothes had bothered their teammate; she had practically ordered them both to shower before calling it a night.

Daniel had been happy to oblige, the warm water helping to wring some of the week's tension out of his muscles, leaving him relaxed and more than ready for sleep. However, his list of observations to share with Janet had grown to include one completely empty and one half-empty bottle of shampoo Sam had left behind in the shower – evidence of just how hard she had tried to wash the last week away – and the clothes she'd worn home that he'd found stuffed in the garbage can. That Sam hadn't even tried to wash the imagined smell of antiseptic out of her favorite sweater before giving it up as a lost cause spoke volumes about how she was really coping.

When the last of the dishes the astrophysicist had probably intended to wash last Saturday afternoon were placed on the draining board, Daniel announced his presence and presented himself for inspection.

"I think the shower's all yours, Teal'c," he stated, moving closer to Sam so she could decide.

Self-consciously, she sniffed the air a few times, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, before nodding approvingly. It was a relief to be near him and smell Daniel not the stale, sterile air of Saint Christina's that would haunt her for a long time to come.

"I will not be long," Teal'c advised, drying his hands on a dishtowel. "Please bear in mind the activities O'Neill has prohibited the both of you from partaking in this evening," he added pointedly, looking back and forth between the two scientists.

"We'll be on our best behavior, we promise," Daniel assured dryly. He and Sam were far too old to be babysat, despite what their eldest teammates seemed to think.

"Daniel Jackson, you would do well to recall that a Jaffa's senses are superior to those of a Tau'ri. Should any attempt be made to brew coffee in or around Major Carter's home, I will know immediately," Teal'c said seriously, eyes locked on the archaeologist.

Before Daniel could formulate a reply, the other man was gone.

"I think you've just been told," Sam teased lightly, nudging him with her foot.

"He's been spending way too much time with Jack," Daniel declared, shaking his head in dismay.

Turning his attention elsewhere, he studied her quietly, noting that she appeared to be more at ease now than she had been all day. Being removed from the constant reminders of what had happened seemed to have done her a world of good. There was still an underlying tension about her, but the hair-trigger her combat instincts had been on for most of the day seemed to have been deactivated.

"What?" Sam asked, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze.

"I was just wondering how you're doing," Daniel replied with a half-shrug.

"I'm okay, just tired," she assured. Truth be told, she was so far beyond exhausted she knew she was in danger of passing out if she tried to stay both vertical and mobile for much longer, but she didn't say so. Besides, Sam knew she wasn't the only one pushing herself to the limit; there was a fifty-fifty chance Daniel would collapse from exhaustion before she did.

"Teal'c will be out of the shower in no time and then we'll call it a night," he replied, squeezing her knees affectionately. There was no point sending her to bed before Teal'c had been subjected to the sniff test. If nightmares woke her in the middle of the night and their teammate smelled even faintly of antiseptic, his attempts to comfort her could easily do more harm than good.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" Sam asked suddenly, shyly. She kept her eyes on her restlessly swinging feet, studiously avoiding his attempts to catch her eye.

"In the guest room, if that's okay with you."

"Oh," she said flatly, letting her heels thump heavily against the cupboards beneath her before ceasing her swinging.

And there it was. The nervous tension Sam had been virtually vibrating with all afternoon was back with a vengeance and Daniel realized that much of the calm she had been exuding in the last few minutes had been for show. She wasn't comfortable at home, not really, she'd just been faking it.

"Is that okay with you?" Daniel prompted, a slight frown marring his features. He already knew the answer was a resounding 'no', but asking the question seemed like the least awkward way of getting her to open up.

"Yeah, of course," she replied, false brightness in her voice as she resumed her role. "That's what it's there for."

She'd always been an absolutely dreadful actress. That he'd been even temporarily fooled by her earlier performance said a lot about just how desperately Daniel needed sleep.

"Sam, don't play games. Not with me," he said firmly, ducking his head as he tried once again to catch her eye.

She considered denying it, he could tell from the way her head dipped down briefly, summoning the last of her reserves of will power. Whether she'd found her stores thoroughly depleted or had simply decided to acquiesce to his request, he'd never know, but when she finally looked up, she did so with an embarrassed sigh.

"I was kind of hoping you'd sleep in my room tonight."

"I can do that," Daniel said gently, trying to reassure her that he didn't mind. "Honestly? I think it will help me more than it helps you."

That was the truth. He'd hardly let her out of his sight since they'd found her; a few minutes here and there throughout the day and even then, only when she'd been with someone he trusted wholeheartedly. It was overprotective, it was paranoid, but he'd almost lost her – for a few horrible, gut-wrenching days, thought he had lost her – and he'd be damned if he ever had to go through that again. He couldn't stay at her side indefinitely, but he would happily be there, as paranoid and overprotective as he could manage to be, for as long as she would allow it.

"I still want Teal'c in the living room, though," she added uncomfortably. She felt guilty making the request when she had a perfectly good guest room he could use.

But there was no need for her to feel guilty; Daniel could see why she wanted it that way. Given the layout of Sam's house, anyone wanting to get upstairs would have to go through the living room to get there and it was impossible to sneak past Teal'c's keen Jaffa senses. The slightest noises were enough to snap him out of kel'no'reem and into action. Even if Teal'c didn't manage to stop an intruder, he could still alert them to the fact that something was wrong in time to do something about it; she wouldn't be caught unawares. Not again.

"You think I'm being silly," Sam guessed, watching him carefully. "Because I've already got the alarm…"

'The alarm' was a state-of-the-art, high-tech wonder that had been de-commissioned by Area 51 just two years ago. Its installation, thanks to some string pulling on General Hammond's part, had made Sam's house the most secure residential building on the face of the Earth. When the system was tripped, alerts were instantly sent to both the general and Jack, and a security contingent from the SGC was dispatched to her home. The house was as safe as any house could get, making a guard Jaffa seem like a low-tech redundancy, but still…

"No," Daniel argued, shaking his head firmly. "Actually, I think you're being extremely logical about this."

After all, the right people could defeat even the most high-tech gadgets. Having Teal'c stationed in the living room was a good back-up measure, not a mark of paranoia.

"I know it's paranoid," Sam ploughed on, and for a moment, Daniel thought he'd spoken aloud.

He soon realized that even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered. She hadn't heard a word he'd said.

"It's not that I don't trust you guys, or feel safe with you, because I do," Sam rambled, eyes darting anxiously around the kitchen while she spoke. "But…"

"But you've been kidnapped twice in the last six months and the people who arranged both kidnappings are still wandering around free," Daniel finished for her. Stepping directly in front of her, he caught her eyes and held them. "It's not paranoia, Sam; you're allowed to be scared. God knows, the rest of us are."

"I hate being afraid," she confessed quietly, sounding so small and vulnerable it broke his heart. "It feels like letting them win."

"Jack said those two doctors we captured were about to kill you," Daniel said gently, almost choking on the bile that clawed its way up his throat at the thought. Death by lethal injection. How anyone could do that to another human being, let alone the amazing, vibrant woman in front of him, he'd never know, never wanted to know.

"Yeah," she breathed shakily, closing her eyes against the memory.

It didn't help; she could still picture in vivid detail those heart-stopping moments before Jack burst through the door. Fighting as hard as she could against the handcuffs restraining her, the cold, unrelenting metal biting into her skin. Kicking out with everything she had, trying to force the doctors to back off and almost succeeding in landing a few hits because their thoughts were already wholly devoted to her autopsy and what they might learn from it. Wanting to scream for help but knowing none would come because no one who cared was around to hear her cries. Watching helplessly as the needle holding her death advanced on her…

"You're still here, still alive," Daniel choked out past the lump in his throat, voice thick with emotion. "That's winning, Sam."

Hearing the passion in his voice, she opened her eyes again, trying hard to banish those last horrible moments of her captivity from her mind and focus on him instead.

It was easier to block the past when she was so starkly confronted with her friend's pain, knowing that he too was in turmoil after Conrad had so brazenly decided her life was meaningless, that she was worth more dead than alive. This, right here, right now, was proof that she did matter, that she was worth something to someone, Adrian Conrad be damned.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Sam met his eyes again. She was still here, still alive. What was winning if not walking away?

Deep down, she knew Daniel was right, but he was wrong too.

"It doesn't feel like winning, not this time," she murmured, blinking rapidly against the tears suddenly stinging her eyes. She didn't want to cry again, wasn't sure what would come out once she allowed the floodgates to open, but she was so scared, so angry, so hurt, so everything that she didn't know how much longer she could keep it all inside.

"It's been a long day, Sam. Give it time," he reassured, squeezing her knees again.

"How much time?" she demanded, all the other emotions swirling inside her giving way to the white hot rage that exploded in her chest at his words. He made it sound so easy but he knew better and she hated that he would dare stand there and lie to her. "Days? Weeks? Months? Until the next time someone decides they want answers only I can give them and kidnaps me to satisfy their own curiosity?"

She clung to her anger, embraced it, letting its strength seep through every inch of her. It overwhelmed her but at the same time, she could control it and she reveled in the feeling. She wasn't on the brink of a breakdown, wasn't ready to fall apart at the drop of a hat. Anger, Sam decided, was her best hope of keeping the floodgates closed.

Without a word, Daniel tugged on her knees, sliding her off the counter in one easy move. When she was standing, he wrapped her in a tight hug, arms winding around her to pull her close. He could feel a slight tremble running through her body and though he knew she was genuinely angry about what had happened, he also knew she was channeling all her fear into righteous outrage, transforming it into something she felt she could display openly, that she didn't have to be ashamed of.

She went willingly enough into his arms. She didn't fight him, but she didn't relax either.

"I wish I could promise we'll keep you safe and stop anyone from ever hurting you again, but I can't," Daniel murmured into her hair, his breath ruffling the soft blonde locks. "What I can promise you is that you'll never have to get through the bad stuff alone. If it happens again, we'll come after you and help you pick up the pieces afterwards."

Sam refused to be soothed. As long as she was angry, she was in control and she had been out of control for far too long to willingly surrender it now.

"I don't want you, any of you, risking your lives for me," Sam snapped. In her head, the words were a plea but filtered through her anger, they came out as a demand. "I'd rather be dead than live with the knowledge that one of you died for me."

"We put our lives on the line for one another everyday. That's the job."

"Not on Earth!" Sam spat, pulling out of his arms with a furious jerk. "We're supposed to be safe here! Thanks to 'the job', I'm safer camping on an unexplored world than I am in my own home, or hiking through an alien forest than walking down the street in broad daylight! That's not 'the job'; it's a load of crap, and you know it!"

"You're right," Daniel agreed, his voice strained as he shared in her anger at the injustice of it all. "You're not safe on Earth and it's not fair because after everything you've been through to save this place, you should at least be allowed to enjoy the planet you've sacrificed so much for.

"But the people who've come after you in the past aren't going to change, Sam. They aren't going to wake up one morning and realize their plans and schemes for you are morally reprehensible and just abandon them. You're going to have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, even if you leave the SGC, because it's not 'the job' that's caught their attention, it's you. And it's not 'the job' that makes us risk our lives for you, Sam, it's you, because you're more important to us than anything. That's never going to change, so you're just going to have to learn to live with it!" he barked fiercely, eyes flashing.

She didn't deserve his anger, not on top of everything else she'd been through in the last week, but he couldn't help it. He'd been through hell too and hearing her condemn him, all of them, for caring about her had shredded his last nerve.

"Don't you dare die for me," Sam rasped brokenly, her voice tinged with urgency, anger fading. She struggled to hold back a fresh wave of tears as she whispered, "I'm no more important than you are."

She was teetering on the edge again, close to toppling headlong into all the pain she'd been fighting so hard to contain. She tried to hold on to her anger – tried so hard – but it was slipping through her fingers. It was one more thing to despise Conrad for; he'd ripped away the calm self-assurance that made her who she was and left her an unstable wreck who clung to rage because it was the only emotion she felt that could crush the people around her instead of crushing her.

"Yes, you are," he replied, blinking back tears of his own. "I think you're more important than I am. Jack and Teal'c each think you're more important than they are… Just like you think we're all more important than you are."

All the fight drained out of Sam and with the fire gone, she looked completely and utterly shattered. She closed the distance between them in two steps and hugged him desperately. Her arms squeezed so tight that it was a struggle to draw more than the shallowest of breaths, but Daniel didn't care. He wrapped his arms around her again, letting her take whatever comfort she needed, relieved beyond measure that she was still here, still alive, if a little worse for the wear.

"We'll always come after you, Sam," Daniel swore quietly, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair. "I know that scares you, but we think you're worth the risk."

"Don't die for me," she repeated. This time she was pleading in perfect unison with the voice in her head. "If you die, they win just as surely as they do if I die."

"Shh," he soothed, smoothing a hand over her hair. "Don't think about that. We're all going to be okay. For now, let that be enough."

He held her for a long time, slowly feeling her relax once more. As the minutes ticked by, her arms gradually loosened their grip but it still felt like she was clinging to him. Like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning in the sea of fear and pain she was adrift in. He was just grateful she was letting him be her lifeline; he could endure the furious, hateful words of a thousand angry outbursts, just so long as she let him reel her back in to herself when all was said and done.

"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, voice muffled against his chest. "I don't know why I'm so emotional."

"You've had a stressful couple of days; don't worry about it."

"That's no excuse. I'm sorry I yelled at you, you didn't deserve it."

"I yelled back, so I'd say we're even," Daniel shrugged, squeezing her tight. He never wanted to let her go, would happily spend the rest of his life right here in her kitchen holding her close, keeping her safe, if only she'd let him.

"You're not going to let me hold myself responsible for anything, are you?"

"Nope," he chuckled, pleased that she was starting to catch on.

"Just checking," she smiled, a hint of laughter lilting in her voice.

Daniel swore it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.