Author's Note: Written for 'Homemade Soup Day' on 4 February.

Sam growled in frustration, but the action caused her already-irritated throat to flare up again and she coughed violently. When she was finally able to breathe somewhat normally again, she sighed. Of all the things that could get her benched from SG-1's latest mission, it had to be the flu.

For the first three days of being ill, the captain had been confined to the infirmary while the rest of the team continued on with the mission as planned. Then, when the guys had arrived home safe and in one piece, Janet had reluctantly agreed to release Sam from her care, on the understanding that the colonel, Daniel and Teal'c checked in on her regularly. At the time, Sam was too tired to argue and was content to let them lead her out of the base and take her home.

But now, she had been stuck at home for a week and she still looked, felt and sounded dreadful. Her teammates have – unsurprisingly – been great and taken turns to check in on her and make sure she ate or slept or took her medication. Left exhausted, however, Sam decided that all she wanted now was to feel better and get back to work.

She strained to see the time on her watch, but when a wave of dizziness suddenly made itself known, she let her head fall back against the cushion. Ten minutes, she told herself. She only had ten more minutes to wait until Daniel arrived for his shift. Sam had started to get used to the company – even if she was not much company herself – but she felt safe when her team was close by.

Images of her three teammates situated around her tiny living room as they watched television made her smile as she started to doze.

Sam wasn't sure how long she slept but when she tried to roll onto her side, her back and neck were stiff. Gingerly, she pushed herself into a seated position and closed her eyes as the room spun around her.

She took a few deep breaths and opened her eyes – only to find a bowl of soup had been placed on the coffee table in front of her. She frowned. It definitely had not been there moments earlier. A noise from the kitchen caught her attention and she froze.

"Daniel?" She croaked. "Is that you?"

If she could laugh, she would, because she quickly realized that it didn't matter if it was an intruder in her house. She was still too sick to put up any kind of fight – unless she could overpower them with a sneeze, and then she'd be fine.

"How're you feeling, captain?"

Her head snapped up and she just caught a glimpse of Colonel O'Neill walking into the living room before she felt dizzy again. She closed her eyes and almost immediately felt a weight press down on her wrist. It wasn't heavy; more comforting than anything else and Sam focused on the way it made her feel until the light-headedness stopped. When she opened her eyes, the colonel was perched on the edge of the table, his hand gently wrapped around her wrist and his thumb running back and forth against her skin.

"You OK?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled. "What are you –"

"Daniel's back at the mountain," he interrupted softly. "SG-5 came across some Goa'uld tablet thingy on their last mission, so he and Teal'c are helping to translate the text. They think it could be important, so I said I'd take his shift here."

"Oh."

It's not that Sam isn't glad to see him, because she is, but she had expected Daniel. All of the guys look after her well, but she's just more comfortable with Daniel. Perhaps because there's no military ranks between them. She's also realized that this is the first time her commanding officer has visited her without one of the others in tow. She isn't sure how she should feel about the discovery, but it did set off little butterflies in her stomach.

"So, I'll ask again," he said carefully, cutting through her thoughts. "How are you?"

"I'll be fine, sir."

He smirked at her answer and Sam frowned in response.

"Still feeling like crap, huh?"

She started to object, but was too tired to lie. She was also convinced that her appearance gave her away, so she nodded and she could have sworn the expression on his face softened.

"I've got to be honest, Carter," he said. "You don't look too hot either."

She grimaced, but then her breath caught in her throat. She coughed, but despite the pain and abuse her lungs had undergone over the past week, she felt the colonel's hand rest firmly on her back, rubbing smooth circles as he murmured for her to take deeper breaths. After what felt like an eternity, the hacking cough subsided.

"Here, drink some of this," he said as he handed her a glass of water.

She followed his order before she shakily gave it back.

"Y'alright?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

She glanced up to see him looking at her with concern. Sam was surprised by his reaction as she felt her commanding officer was an expert when it came to hiding how he felt. However, as they sat side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder on her small couch, she discovered that didn't always seem to be the case.

Without warning, something flashed in his eyes and he slowly reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Sam's eyes instinctively closed at the gesture and she could feel his hand hover for a couple of seconds before she felt bereft of the contact. When she heard him curse softly, she opened her eyes and found his hands clasped together tightly as they rested in his lap and he was studiously avoiding her gaze.

She reached up to touch her face. She could still feel the spot where the backs of his fingers had brushed against her cheek just moments earlier and she felt herself blush. Determined to blame her flushed appearance on her poor health, she noticed her commanding officer watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Is something wrong, sir?" She asked quietly.

His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, and then it was gone and he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

"You should try the soup," he suggested, and Sam paused at the strange tone of his voice. "It'll help make you feel better – and then you should get some more sleep."

With no further explanation, he left the living room and Sam frowned. His behavior was odd to say the least and she briefly wondered if he was also starting to fall ill. If she could, she would have followed him, but the smell of the soup reached her nostrils and she decided to try it instead. In the end, she could only manage a few spoonfuls, but she did feel slightly better now that something was in her stomach.

She pushed the bowl away as the colonel reappeared and she couldn't help but notice that he looked more like himself. His tough exterior and neutral expression were back in place and she watched as he silently placed another glass of water on the table before he took a seat beside her. But then he hesitated for a moment and his eyes met hers.

With a look Sam wasn't sure she could interpret, Jack put his arm around her and pulled her carefully against his side. She went willingly, and told herself that it was simply because she was too tired to do anything else. Her head was spinning, but when she felt his chin rest on top of her head, she instantly relaxed and closed her eyes.

"Get some rest, Sam," he whispered, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze.

She nodded in response and moments later tried to convince herself that as she started to fall asleep, she didn't feel the colonel press a kiss into her hair.