"He really is the sweetest guy."

"Have you seen him with his shirt off?"

"Oh, honey, I've seen way more than that. And believe me, he has everything that a girl can want."

"You have not."

"Bedpan duty does have its perks on occasion."

"You'll be wishing for bedpans if you three don't get back to work," Dr. Lam grumbled at her nurses. They were in a little clump by the coffee pot bragging about seeing Dr. Jackson and Col. Mitchell in various stages of undress.

"Yes, ma'am," the nurses mumbled breaking apart quickly.

"Look," she stopped them. "I know what you're going through. But we have to stay on task here. There are people who need our undivided attention. We're working on a cure, and until then we keep our heads on straight."

"Yes, ma'am," the nurses agreed.

"We're good? Everyone can concentrate?"

As the nurses moved to their tasks, Dr. Lam took a deep, steadying breath. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate as the hours passed. She'd caught herself daydreaming more than once when she should have been paying attention to her patients. It was the little things that reminded her of him that really set her off. She dropped a file and instantly thought of how sweet Dr. Jackson had been in the hallway. How quick he'd been to help. How even with his rough, calloused hands he had been so gentle and almost tender. At first, she had wondered what made his hands so rough, after all, he was constantly buried to his nose in books. But, he had a life outside the confines of the SGC; he went off for weeks at a time to participate in and lead digs and didn't shy away from manual labor. Before all this, he had been a practicing archaeologist. He'd made his fair share of discoveries after putting in the time and effort. After all that research, he did get out in the world to prove his theories.

He spent hours working in the hot sun just to see what he could find, to satisfy his intellectual curiosity. In the dirt, sweaty, his muscles showing through his wet shirt as the fabric clung to his skin. Dirt under his nail and smudged across his brow, his eyes lighting up when he found what he was looking for. A confident grin spreading across his face as he looked up to show her his new treasure. How he wrapped his strong, tanned arms around her to celebrate his new discovery, sweeping her off her feet and kissing her with….

"Doctor?"

"Yes?" Abruptly she shook out of her fantasy and found a young lieutenant looking at her expectantly.

"Your requisition forms for the infirmary? I was told you had them ready?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting for focus. "Right here." She handed the forms over and tried not to blush. There was no way the lieutenant knew what she had been fantasizing about.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Alone again in her office, she sat down behind her desk. How had she even gotten off on that tangent? Dr. Jackson wasn't her type. She preferred men with more of strength in their demeanor. Someone who wasn't so out of place on a football field or at a total loss when it came to a good hike in the mountains. She couldn't imagine Dr. Jackson out camping for the weekend, or changing the oil in his car, or even the one to man the grill at a bar-b-que. He was probably the type who made sure there was enough ice for the coolers or thought to bring lemonade for the kids and stayed to help with the dishes after the bar-b-que.

The type of thoughtful guy who remembered your favorite ice cream and brought you flowers for no reason. He'd remember your birthday and what you wore on your first date together. The kind of guy who wouldn't scoff at the more tender side of romance. He probably genuinely liked to cuddle.

To hold you on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket together in front of the fireplace. Sitting and being together after dinner at your favorite restaurant, a romantic candlelit dinner, a long night of conversation tucked up against his chest. The warmth of his body warding off the chill of the night. The smell of his cologne, natural, musky, mixing with the earthy smoke of the fire…

"Okay!" she snapped herself out of it. She stood up and started walking, knowing that going to the isolation room was a bad idea, but she had to see him. It wasn't right ignoring him, leaving him locked up by himself.

He was probably so lonely. She just wanted to check on him. Just say hi. As his doctor, it was her responsibility to check on his wellbeing. She hadn't checked on him since taking the biologic samples from him, which was hours ago. He really was due for a check-up. She needed to check his vitals and if that meant he needed to take his shirt off, that really wasn't her fault.

Satisfied that this was an actual physician related visit to Dr. Jackson and not just the effects of the pathogen, she waited for the elevator. Only when the doors opened and Col. Carter was inside did she start to question her motives again.

"Hi," they greeted each other awkwardly. Guilty. Caught. Busted.

"Any progress on the cure?" Dr. Lam asked hopefully. At least with Col. Carter around, she seemed to think more clearly. She pressed the button for the next floor, giving them the chance to get out before they made it to the isolation level.

"I have no idea," Carter admitted.

"Been keeping busy?"

"I named our children," she confessed with a hint of bemusement.

Dr. Lam nodded knowingly. "We had our honeymoon in Italy."

"We went to France."

They got off the elevator on a safe floor, the administration offices were a good Dr. Jackson free environment, and walked just to keep themselves busy.

"France is romantic," Dr. Lam said.

"He proposed under the Eiffel Tower," Sam explained as if this were all the most natural thing in the world. It was nice to have someone to talk to who understood where she was coming from. Fight it as she may she couldn't get him out of her head. The usual Daniel quirks that under normal circumstances made her roll her eyes or tease him were suddenly endearing and romantic.

His constant scribbling in his journals? No longer was he distracted and ignoring what she was saying in favor of jotting down his latest theory. Now he was writing poetry for her, so inspired by his love for her he had to get it down on paper to immortalize his love for her. All the artifacts and knick-knacks crammed on his office shelves were not because of his inability to throw anything away, but important mementos of their adventures together.

"Sorry," Sam apologized.

"I'm doing it, too," Dr. Lam sighed. "I hope we get this figured out soon. It's getting hard to function."