"Hey, what's going on?" I ask as I come out of Naima's room late one night. Dan'yel has looked serious ever since he got his mail today. I didn't mention it today, because Naima was in a really good mood, and I figured whatever was wrong was adult stuff anyway.

"Nothing," he says, barely glancing up from his anthropology journal.

"Try again, Dan'yel," I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

"It's nothing. I just got a letter from a friend of mine."

"Did something happen to him? You're sad," I say.

"No, it's just… in another life, it would be good news."

"Another life?" I ask.

He nods.

"A life where you weren't married?"

He looks at me with enough surprise that I know I am right.

"Was the letter from Sara?" I ask.

"Sara?" he asks, confused, "No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what exactly am I holding you back from?" I ask, sitting on the couch next to him.

"It's not you as much as the kids," he says, "And you're not holding me back."

"Just tell me what it is," I say.

"It's a dig in Egypt," he says.

"A dig? You want to leave the SGC?"

"No, I don't think I could ever do that. I couldn't just suddenly go to not knowing what is going on out there. I would never feel like you guys were safe now that I know what is out there. No, this is a two-week trip. I could take the time off."

"Ok, let's do this," I say.

"Honey, I can't leave you for that long," I raise my eyebrows at him, "I mean, when I'm not stranded off world."

"Or dead," I remind him.

"Right."

"But why would you be leaving us?"

"I can't take Naima to Egypt, or you… you'll be really pregnant by then. And you have school."

"I can take my studies along," I say with a smile.

"So you want me to do this?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say with a smile. "I want to visit this place on Earth I pretend to be from. It will be a homecoming of sorts."

"It will be a little bit of a homecoming for me as well," he says.

I give him a questioning look.

"I told you that my parents were archeologists, right?"

I nod.

"Well, I didn't live in America until after they died when I was eight. I mean, we traveled to the U.S. now and then for a museum opening or a semester long guest lecture position or something, but mostly we lived in Egypt. Well, I was born in Greece, but we moved before I turned two. So, when I have memories of my parents they are mostly memories of Egypt."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'll miss them, but it will be a good missing. But you know that they will speak a different language there, right? I mean, there will probably only be one or two people there that you'll be able to talk to."

"It's not like I haven't done that before, and it will be a good experience for Naima. She probably won't remember it, but it will still be good culture for her."

"Ok, I'll write to my friend saying that I accept this position."

-0-0-0-

This is the biggest machine yet.

"How does this airplane work?" I ask nervously.

"I'm not exactly sure," Daniel replies, putting his hand on the small of my back and trying to usher me closer to the plane.

"Well, I'm not going to go anywhere until you explain it to me," I say, digging my feet into the ground.

"Honey, it's safer than driving a car," he says.

"If I crash my car, we're not going to fall out of the sky," I inform him.

"Sha'uri, look at me," he says. I do. "I would not be asking my family to get on this if I wasn't a hundred percent sure it was safe."

"Dear, must I remind you of what you do for a living?"

"Yeah, but there's a difference between doing something myself, and sending my pregnant wife and little girl onto something. It's safe. I promise."

"Ok," I say with a weak smile, allowing him to usher me unto the 'plane.

-0-0-0-

I meant to study more Arabic before we got here. I wanted to surprise Daniel with my knowledge. But I had to get ahead in my school work (syllabi are handy things which tell you what work to do in advance). It helped that there was a long weekend in our trip, but I was still quite busy.

Daniel's old friend greets us. Apparently Daniel played with him when they were little kids. Daniel's parents were the ones that inspired Hamza to become an archeologist himself.

"As-salaam 'alaykum," Hamza says.

Daniel is about to translate, but I stop him by replying, "Wa 'alaykum salaam."

His jaw drops, and he takes a step away "When did you learn Arabic?"

"Only a little," I say in Arabic. I know it doesn't make perfect sense, but it's the best I can do.

Hamza laughs, and claps Daniel on the back, saying something that contains the worlds "smart" and "wife".

"Actually, Akh, she is much more brilliant that I am," he says in both languages, as he looks at me fondly.

"Daddy," Naima complains. Daniel's been carrying her over his shoulder, and she is just now starting to wake up.

"Your child?" Hamza says.

Daniel nods, and Hamza reaches out his hands for her. I'm not sure how my daughter is going to deal with waking up in a stranger's arms. She opens up her eyes, glances over to make sure that we're still here, and then snuggles into his chest.

A slew of words come out of Hamza's mouth all said in a reverent tone. Daniel starts to translate, but I assure him that I got the gist of it based on the tone.

We start walking, and Daniel and Hamza are catching up. I'm starting to be reminded of when I first moved to Earth.

Suddenly a question upsets Daniel.

"What?" I ask him.

"Ah… he asks where you're from. He'll know that Abydos is a lie," Daniel says.

"Abydos?" Hamza says with a shake of his head, "No," and then more words I don't understand.

Daniel kicks in with more words I don't understand before turning to me. "I told him there is a place called Abydos in Canada."

"Canada?" I squeal.

He shrugs, "It worked for Cassie."

"Right, but that was different. She spoke English."

"So do you!"

"Right, but it's not my native language."

"It's not mine either."

"What?" I gulp in surprise.

"I mean, my parents did speak English to me when I was young. But mostly I spoke Arabic."

I try to picture my husband as a little boy in the desert, speaking this harsh tongue.

"Naima, sweetie, you are in a different country than you've ever been in before. Daddy grew up here," I tell her.

She sticks her head above Hazma's shoulder, and looks around.

"It's like Mommy's home," she says.

She knows this only from the pictures, because a three year old memory isn't long.

"Yes, sweetie, it is like Mommy's home."

-0-0-0-

"I want to go home," Naima whines.

"I know, baby," and with the added weight of a pregnancy and the heat do I ever, "We'll be home in a couple of days."

"I'm glad we did this," Daniel says, as he brushes sand off a wall with a tiny broom. I could do it faster, but all my suggestions to that effect have made him cringe and inform me that I would damage the artifacts.

"Me to," I say.

"Did you ever wish it was like this all the time?" he asks.

"You want to move here?" I ask him in surprise.

"I was thinking about if we'd stayed on Abydos. It would have been like this."

I laugh. You'd think having an anthropologist for a husband he'd understand our culture a little better than that. "My culture isn't really like this one."

"That's not really what I mean. I know your culture is really different from an archeology dig in modern Egypt. I just mean this… not worrying if the world is toppling in over our shoulders. It's a nice change."

"We should carve out more time for relaxing," I tell him guiltily.

He smiles absently at me, and touches my face, "I wasn't just talking about me. You've been relaxed here. Sometimes I worry about how much worry you go through."

"Then you just focus on staying safe."