A/N: Thanks to Debbie, Emry, Kat, Mel, Sandy and Kari for beta-ing this so well.
*
*
*
Ten minutes, and the hairs on the back of Sam's neck had yet to lie down. Always a bad sign. She glanced at the long mirror again, saw nothing but her reflection and those of the three other women sitting against the wall, and looked away.
There was nothing in the room that should have concerned her - the walls were pale cream, the coffee table was smothered with magazines and a couple of innocent-looking potted plants. Admittedly, there were no windows but the excellent lighting made up for that. Two doors, one through which they had all come, one through which the woman who had escorted them into the room had gone.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, the hairs stayed up.
She glanced at the mirror again.
It was Sam's professional opinion that there was someone behind the mirror watching them. Why, she didn't know - what kind of employer viewed prospective employees in this fashion? But then, if what she was feeling was right, whoever was behind that mirror was Goa'uld. And that made her like no other employer on Earth.
Maybourne's theory - that Sam would be all the more an appealing employee because of her experience with Jolinar - pressed down on her. Now, she supposed, was the time to press her advantage (if it was an advantage). She needed to make it obvious that she, Samantha Clorel, was no ordinary candidate.
Standing up and smoothing down the smart pants she'd worn for the occasion, Sam wandered over to the mirror. The other applicants looked up from their magazines and watched her suspiciously. Casually, she reached up to check her hair, touching the ruffled style with the palm of her hand.
Slowly, she moved along the mirror, trying to feel exactly where the Goa'uld was. Exactly. The closer she came to a Goa'uld, the stronger the feeling of unease and as Sam walked towards the left hand side of the mirror, her skin began to crawl. Not badly, or anything. It wasn't distracting, just... a presence that Sam had been forced to get used to. The moment the sensation began to ebb, Sam realised she'd walked too far.
To the amusement of her onlookers, she backed up a couple of steps, paused and made a decision.
Here.
Facing the mirror, Sam knew she was 'looking' at a Goa'uld. Maybourne had been right all along.
Flicking her eyes up and down the mirror, Sam made it perfectly apparent to whoever was watching that she knew there was something or someone behind the mirror. Beyond that, there was little she could do. She turned on her heel and walked back to her seat, sat down and crossed her legs, her eyes repeatedly going to the same spot on the mirror.
Ten minutes later, the woman who had brought them into the room said they were free to leave.
*
''That was it?''
Sam nodded and was forced to chew quickly so she could answer. She swallowed and waved her fork at him. ''That was it.''
''No interview?''
''Colonel...''
He sighed and looked down into his own finished bowl of pasta. His fork chased a lone blob of sauce and then he gave up and went back to eating his way through the bread basket. ''She was watching you. Checking you all out. Probably for physical appeal.''
Sam winced, shoulders slumping. ''Oh great.''
He laughed soundlessly, pulled the piece of Italian bread in half and chased the sauce in his bowl with that instead. ''Don't fish, Carter.''
''Fish? Are you kidding me?'' She blushed to think of the very idea of getting him to give her compliments. ''The women in that room were at least ten years younger than me.'' With breasts the size of mountains, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
''They didn't look that attractive from where I was standing.''
''You were on top of the opposite building with binoculars!''
''Exactly. It was a very good pair of binoculars.''
She snorted. ''Wouldn't it be really funny if I don't get a job? Maybourne's plan would be blown to hell and back.''
''You'll get the job.'' He pushed his bowl aside and crossed his arms on the table, looking around the near empty restaurant with interest. ''The intrigue is enough to get anyone a job. She's a Goa'uld - she'll be desperate for some entertainment.''
Twisting her pasta around her fork, Sam tended to agree. ''I guess we'll just have to wait and see.'' She glanced up to see that his eyes were focused very intently upon her food. It was the same off-world, or at least, it had been. He'd finish his food first and then pick at everyone else's. It was part of the reason why Daniel brought along extra chocolate bars. ''Do you want some?''
''Yeah,'' he answered easily, nudging his bowl towards her. ''I'm starving.''
''You've not been eating well, or have you been ill?'' she asked conversationally. It was something she'd been desperate to know - any hint of what they'd been doing back at home.
''Why do you ask?''
''You've lost weight.'' She scooped a generous portion of her lunch into his bowl. ''So?''
''So what?''
''Have you been ill? You, Daniel, even Teal'c? Did you catch something on a mission?''
He shrugged, looked mutinous. ''No. Don't.''
Rolling her eyes, Sam pressed him further. ''And what about Daniel? What happened between you two?''
''We had an argument,'' he said quietly, looking at his food intently. ''Look, Carter, I don't want to discuss this....''
She threw her fork down into her bowl with a clatter. ''We're gonna have to discuss it. I'm worried about you.''
''Really? Good impression you were doing for the last month there, Carter,'' he snapped, eyes narrowing threateningly. ''I can tell you were really concerned.''
''I still thought about you! It wasn't like I completely ignored the fact that you're an important part of my life, okay?'' Aware that there were eyes on them from the other side of the room, Sam lowered her voice. ''Why won't you tell me?''
''Because I don't,'' he stabbed at his pasta, ''want to. You don't deserve to know.''
Her eyelids lowered with hurt. She guessed he was right. That was the problem. She really didn't deserve to be let back in.
On her right, her cell phone started to ring.
*
Sam didn't really know how she felt about it until it was all done and over with. Until he was back home, safe, his own age once again.
It was only then, when the four of them were sitting in the commissary eating, and Daniel and the Colonel were chatting away like usual with Teal'c listening curiously, that Sam realised.
She felt disappointed.
Over the past few months, she'd come to respect Colonel O'Neill - something she'd suspected she'd never manage to do. Few men gained Sam's respect these days, particularly Air Force men, and she'd assumed that her CO would be another man for whom she'd follow orders but have little interest in otherwise. She was wrong. Colonel O'Neill had proved himself to be that honorable breed of man who had principles he stuck to no matter what, principles that Sam herself could understand and agree with.
Therefore, finding out that he'd slept with some voluptuous, pouty alien chick didn't really sit well with Sam. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't his fault - he'd been drugged, alien influence, and so on - but a small part of her mind kept trying to point out that he was Special Forces trained. Some part of him must have complied with what he was going through. It just didn't sit right, that was all.
She dropped her fork on her plate and wished she wasn't so disappointed in him. It could only mean one thing - that she had grown to like him as well. And that was almost as bad as respecting him.
''Carter? Something up?''
Sam shook her head. ''No, sir. I'm fine.''
''You sure, Sam? You look preoccupied.''
The Colonel smiled suddenly. ''Probably *thinking*.''
This was his latest joke. He really enjoyed that one.
''Yes, sir. Thinking. Funny,'' she said softly, reaching for her glass of water.
''Jack,'' Daniel chastised, smiling slightly.
''You know you like it. It means I'm not picking on you.''
Daniel glanced at Sam. ''Sorry, Sam. It's true.''
She shook her head. ''Coward.''
''Hey, I've had it longer than you have...''
Colonel O'Neill reached across the table and stole Daniel's second bread roll. ''You two will just have to deal with it. You're smart and you'll be appropriately teased for it.''
''Fine,'' Daniel sighed.
''Aye, aye, Captain Kirk,'' Sam murmured, the expression slipping out before she'd really considered the wisdom of it.
The Colonel froze, glanced up at her. Slowly, red color suffused his face. Clearly, he got the reference.
He cleared his throat. ''Thank you, Captain.
Smirking, Sam picked up her fork. ''That's perfectly all right, sir.''
She supposed she'd get over the disappointment. Hopefully soon. She didn't like the way it made her feel.
*
''Samantha Clorel speaking.''
''Ms Clorel, we are pleased to offer you a job at Luxor,'' a low, raspy voice informed her.
''Oh! Oh, that's great. Thank you.''
Across the table, the Colonel raised his eyebrows and she nodded energetically.
''You will need to come to Luxur tomorrow morning at half past eight to begin your training. Do you have any background in waitressing or bar work?''
''Nothing beyond a couple of summer jobs when I was still in school.''
''Fine. Details on the job will be available tomorrow morning. At Luxur we offer our applicants a full day's training, after which they will be able to decide whether they wish to continue with the employment.''
''Okay. Sure.''
''We'll see you tomorrow then.''
''Eight thirty. Got it.''
Sam hung up. ''Well.''
''Told ya.'' He scooped up some more of her pasta and stuffed it into his mouth.
''I've got a full day of training tomorrow, then I 'sign up'.''
''Wonder what the pay's like.''
She shrugged; guess she'd find that out the next day. ''What are you going to do tomorrow?''
''Walk around.''
''All day?''
''I like being a tourist. You'll take your cell, right?''
''Yup. And I've got your number.''
''I want you to call in every hour. Just call me and hang up.''
''What if I can't get to my phone?''
''Keep it on you at all times. Hide it in a pocket or something. It's small enough. Surprised you don't lose it,'' he muttered.
She shrugged. ''I don't lose things. Actually,'' she continued, a little nervously, ''this is Maybourne's.''
He glanced at. ''I thought you didn't lose things.''
Sam made a face. ''No, he took the other one away from me when I tried to call you the first time. He didn't want me to be traced.''
''Right.''
Sam looked up at him through her lowered eyelashes and wondered if this would be an acceptable opportunity to ask why his wife had been at his house. But, looking at the expression on his face, she doubted that was a good idea.
Looked like their 'talk' the night before last really hadn't done much, as she'd suspected. While she may have aired all her feelings, he had yet to give in and air his. And she had a sharp feeling that Colonel O'Neill probably had a lot of feelings to air.
''We'd better get going.'' He signalled for the bill and finished off the last forkful of pasta. ''We need to get groceries and I'll need to go home for a couple of hours this afternoon.''
She couldn't help but feel disappointed. Despite the tension, the feeling that they had unfinished business, he was still around and that was, sadly, almost enough for her. ''Okay. I could get the groceries and you could go home right away?'' she suggested. That way he'd be back all the sooner.
''It's fine. I'll help. Besides, you don't know what I like to eat.''
''I thought you ate everything.''
''I *can* eat everything, doesn't meant I *want* to. There's a difference.''
Well, that certainly told her.