*
*
*
Years of experience with Jack O'Neill expressions had Sam on alert. She finally leaned across the table. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking... I'm thinking you're not going to like this."
Daniel stopped eating long enough to look at each of them. He reached for a paper napkin to wipe at his mouth. "I sense trouble."
He wasn't the only one.
Colonel O'Neill winced as if what he was about to do went against his nature. "Carter... how likely do you think it is that you could see Daniel Frakes?"
No way.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Daniel snorted with laughter. "Nice one, Jack."
"Let's face it," he appealed. "She's not doing so good at the waitressing thing..."
"That's true," Sam admitted, grudgingly. Last night's fiasco with the wine had been pretty high up on the list of Sam Carter's All Time Screw-ups. She'd been lucky she hadn't been fired. Her shirt was right now soaking in the bathroom sink.
"So we need to take advantage of our other options. We know Frakes is in on it..."
"We don't," she said, quickly, and somewhat defensively.
"Okay, okay," he held up his hands, "but we know he knows something. He's a VIP guest, he seems to be on intimate terms with snake woman..."
Sam paled at the implication. "Jesus."
The Colonel paused. He smiled a not-so-sorry smile but didn't apologise.
Daniel snickered again. "This gets better and better." Sam kicked him neatly on the shin and he yelped. "Thanks a lot, Sam. God. With boots on, too."
"How do you know he'll remember me?" Sam demanded, flushing.
Colonel O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Carter, come on..."
"No, I mean that. For all I know, he does that sort of thing a lot..."
Daniel snorted and quickly moved his legs away before Sam could react. "Okay, Sam, despite your rather, er, unusual lack of confidence in this particular area in your life, rest assured he will remember you. It wasn't that long ago anyway. We can at least explore this avenue."
He had a point, even if she was really uncomfortable with it.
"How would we go about meeting him, then?"
Daniel got up and walked over to the coffee table where he began rifling through piles of paper. "I should probably organize this," he muttered, "ah-hah! 'Daniel Frakes, who is reported to be saying at The Brown Palace Hotel'. I knew that site would come in useful one day."
"We'll check it out. Carter, you can wear whatever you were wearing when you met him. Leave a message at the front desk..."
"Sir, he won't want to see me."
"Tell him you're pregnant or something...."
"Sir!"
He grinned contritely. He reached across to her plate and snagged a fry. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Think of something."
Why did he always say that to her? Like she was full of ideas. "He'll just think I'm trying to see him again because I know he's famous," she said.
"So? Or are you afraid you'll disappoint him, Carter?"
There was a bite to his words that she found somewhat insulting. "Yes, I am. He was a nice guy, Colonel."
"Okay, okay," Daniel interrupted, sitting back down at the table and picking up his fork to spear up some salad. "I figure we ought to do a little surveillance on this guy. Firstly to see if he's actually at the hotel..."
"And the gossip page isn't making it up," the Colonel muttered. "I guess I'm gonna be standing on buildings again."
"We'll be with you this time."
"No, you're gonna be working. Just in case this falls through."
Sam made a face. Super. More embarrassing accidents. "Sure. In that case, I'm going to keep working on the guards. They seem to mix with the VIPs pretty indiscriminately." And one of them, Tim, didn't view her with complete suspicion.
"You do that. I'll make a call and see if I can get you wired up."
"So I'm finally going to meet this mysterious 'friend' of yours?"
"Look, I forgot to tell you last time. I really did!"
Sam smiled and went back to eating her meal.
"We'll go check the hotel out tonight, then, before you go to work. You'll need to know the layout," the Colonel said, finally. "Everyone okay with that?"
"Sure."
"Absolutely."
*
"Carter, do not, under any circumstances, go *anywhere*. Stay right there. That's an order."
Sam blinked. What the hell was he talking about? Where did he expect her to go, exactly?
Jesus, this water was cold.
"I will be right back."
His head disappeared from above her and Sam sighed. Tentatively, she lifted one boot and winced at the sucking, swirling noise below her. She had a suspicious feeling the water was rising, too.
She looked around the hole she was standing in, searching for any way out. The sides were comprised of smooth dirt, faintly muddy from the recent downpour and almost completely vertical. There were no handy hanging roots creeping out of the earth for her to grab hold of and hoist herself up to the rim. Her last effort to grip the earth and climb up using her fingers and toes had resulted in a muddy landslide and wet pants. She wasn't going to try it again unless there was something to hold on to.
Reaching down, Sam drew the mouth of her P-90 across the water level, digging into the dirt. If her suspicion was correct, the mark would disappear with the rising water.
To occupy herself, she waded over to the other side and tried to see out of the hole. On the radio, she heard her CO call for Teal'c and she listened to their conversation, as Sam's situation was briskly explained.
"I will be with your shortly, O'Neill."
"Great. Carter, do you copy?"
She picked up her radio. "Sir?"
"Just checking. Still okay?"
She rolled her eyes. Was it just her, or was he being awfully protective? "Yes, sir."
She unclicked her radio and waded back to the other side, wincing at the mud squelching under her boots and the sucking noise her feet made as she lifted them from the water.
"Carter?"
"Yes sir?"
"Good. You're still there."
"Sir, where else would I be?" she asked, somewhat snappishly.
"Just playing the concerned CO, Major," he said brusquely.
No kidding. Sam wondered if this had anything to do with his mysterious offer to go 'fishing'. Did he actually mean 'fishing'? Or... or did he mean *fishing*? She couldn't believe she'd nearly said yes too. God, thank goodness for Thor and his impeccable timing. To think, if he hadn't zapped the Colonel up Sam could well have been at his cabin in Minnesota doing... what time was it?
She checked her watch. Huh. Back on Earth it was about half past five in the morning. She'd be in bed.
With him?
Nervously, Sam started pacing through the water, trying to keep warm.
She was disturbed.
How could she have nearly said 'yes'? How far had her priorities slipped for her to even consider going fishing, alone, with him. Hello - *frat* regs. It was drummed into every cadet's head. Particularly, though it was never explicitly said, between a superior male officer and his female subordinate. And it wasn't as if her father hadn't been pretty stern on the topic either. Funnily enough, he'd never had a problem using his own connections to improve upon her position.
"Carter?"
"*What?*"
They both paused. Colonel O'Neill no doubt surprised by her vehemence and Sam wincing from her incredible rudeness.
Hurriedly, Sam tried to fill the silence, "I beg your pardon, sir."
"That's okay. Extenuating circumstances."
Oh yeah.
"I'm coming back with the rope now Carter."
"That's great, sir." She glanced over at her mark and sighed. "The water's rising, sir."
"Dammit. How far up is it?"
"Knee level, sir."
"Right, I'll be back in time, then. Guess we could always wait for you to *float* out, though God knows what kind of things are floating in that water."
Sam looked down worriedly. "Thanks for that, sir."
"For God' s sake, Carter, we're stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere, I think you can call me Jack."
Never gonna happen, she told herself. Never. Gonna. Happen.
Something moved out of the corner of Sam's eyes.
"Sir, you mentioned floating things?"
"Yeah."
"There's something swimming in here."
"Shit. Stay perfectly still, Carter. Do not move."
"No, sir."
*
"Jack."
He threw his hands in the air. "No!"
"Come on, Jack, you know she's right."
Sam put her hands on her hips. "Please, you know this is the only way."
"You're not to use my name like that again," he said, pointing at her threateningly as he paced. "I won't have you using it to convince me of things I don't want to be convinced about."
She went to look out of the window at the entrance to the hotel across the road. "He's *right* there. Just let me go."
"No, not until we've got you wired."
"Sir..."
"Jack, this could be the only chance we get. He's signing autographs, for God's sake. She could just..." He started patting his pockets, then pulling out various things from them - a small book, glasses case, a corkscrew, pen, paper. "Here, take these." Daniel shoved the pen and paper at her. "Ask him to sign it."
Sam looked to her CO appealingly. "Sir?"
Colonel O'Neill sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, go. Go."
She went.
The run down the stairs made Sam glad that she hadn't broken her exercise routine while she'd been 'vacationing' and, although she nearly got herself run over as she ran across Seventeenth Street, it was worth it. He was still there, signing autographs and flashing very white teeth at eager, rosy-cheeked and chilled girls who were banding together for warmth as they waggled photographs of him and scraps of paper.
She noticed there were two burly looking men standing nearby, dressed in unnoticeable suits. Bodyguards. Eying them warily, she slipped between the pushing and shoving girls and the occasional man, somewhat thankful that there weren't scores of them. She prayed that he didn't get tired of signing autographs and go back inside before she could get to him.
"Okay, last one... who shall it be?"
Amongst the chorus of 'me! me!' Sam just about managed to push her hand out just a little further, the flash of faintly yellowed paper sticking out above everyone else. For once, Sam was particularly glad of her height.
His dark eyes, thickly lashed, moved amongst the women and men, finally settling on Sam's gloved hand. He reached out and tapped her hand. "This one, I think."
Disappointed, girls moved out of the way as Sam stepped forward. She stood in front of him and waited while his eyes focused on her piece of paper and he took the pen.
"Who shall I make it out to?" he asked, pen poised.
"Sam." She sought desperately for something more telling but she needn't have bothered. His eyes moved from the paper, sliding up her arm and locking on her face. His mouth murmured her name again, flashing with remembrance.
Then Sam noticed something.
Something she'd never, ever, *ever* noticed before.
A tingling emerged on the back of her neck, a tingling that spread and grew, crawled down her spine and attacked all the nerves in her body. A humming, tingling, awareness. A knowing.
"Sam. Sam?" He was repeating her name but she started slipping back into the crowd, horror filtering down from her brain. Without thinking about it - without thinking of the consequences - Sam got the hell away from him and the knowledge.