"Hey Cass," O'Neill said as he pushed his way into his home. In contrast to Carter's well ordered house, his own dwelling was a chaotic; in the middle of a major redecoration. Cassie was reading in the living room.
"Hey," she returned, "How's Sam?"
"Oh, I think she's fine. The new CMO is just a bit...zealous," he said and then cursed himself for sticking his foot straight in his mouth.
"It's okay," Cassie said, seeing his expression. "I know you had to replace mom..."
The silence ballooned and Cassie's eyes seemed for a second overbright. Instinctively O'Neill crossed the distance between her and squeezed her skinny shoulder. She hugged him in a way vaguely reminiscent of his son, waking from a nightmare and seeking comfort in the arms of his father. When they drew apart her eyes were not the only pair misty with held-back tears.
He sat down in his favourite chair, picking up the television remote. "How does pizza sound?" he asked.
"Great," Cassie sniffed. He turned on the television and the phone rang.
"Hello?" he said, realised he was talking to the remote control, shot his giggling charge a quelling glance and picked up the 'phone. "Hello?"
"Hi Jack. It's Julia."
He smiled. "Hi Julia."
"You want to go out tonight?" she asked, her voice hopeful.
"Er," O'Neill said, looking at Cassie, who was making 'go ahead' signals with her hand. "Er, I'm sorry Julia but I have to look after Cassie again tonight. I was going to order in a pizza."
"Oh." She sounded disappointed and he berated himself for giving her the brush off again. "Well, I'd be very selfish if I tried to persuade you to do otherwise. Say hi to Cassie from me and... well, you can call me if you want to meet up again."
"I will," he said, meaning it.
"G'night Jack."
"G'night Julia."
The click of her hanging up on him sounded very loud in his ear. Cassie was looking irritated. "Why aren't you going out?"
"I went out last night."
"So, what, you can only go out once a week?"
"No..."
"You saw Sam out last night with Pete, didn't you?"
It was pointless to deny it. "Yeah."
"And Julia obviously didn't come back here, judging by the state of the place and as she rang you up to invite you out again, I'm surmising you didn't spend the night at her place."
"Yeah," he replied, trying to look casually confused by Cassie's line of questioning.
Cassie sighed and gave him a withering look. "I wish you two would sort yourselves out," she said. "It's enough to make me scream. You're worse than me and my friends. And that's saying something."
"Cassie..."
"That's what Sam does when I start giving my opinion on you pair," she informed him, starting to grin.
"Cassie, you know it's illegal for me to have a relationship with Carter, don't you?"
"Yes I know," she replied, rolling her eyes, "But you both pretend to move on and then get hung up when you see each other out with other people. It's incredibly annoying. Not to mention unfair on the people you think you're moving on with."
"Do you want this pizza or not?" he asked her, trying to change the subject.
With a scornful look that let him know she had seen right through his tactic she appeared to think for a moment. "I'll have a Hawaiian with extra pineapple. And a garlic bread. And some of those potato wedges. And get some Hagen Daaz. Sam always buys Ben and Jerry's and I don't like that as much."
He smiled and picked up the 'phone again to dial the pizza delivery people.
"This is your favourite film?" he asked, for the third time in complete disbelief.
"Yeah."
"This is your favourite film?"
"Yeah. I think it's so... surreal. And funny."
"Does Carter like it?" he asked, suspiciously.
"No. She doesn't get it."
That makes two of us, he thought.
"So what's happening now?"
"Uh, Zidler is trying to convince the Duke that Satine's confessing."
He watched in silence for a moment as the magic of Moulin Rouge unfolded. "Why are there extremely camp men with plates of jello singing 'Like A Virgin?'"
"Just enjoy the film Jack," Cassie told him.
He managed to keep quiet until the end credits.
"Well, that was depressing."
Cassie nodded, "But it's a great film, don't you think?"
"Yes," he said, with the special O'Neill infliction that meant very definitely no.
"Thanks," Cassie said after he had retrieved the DVD from his player and placed it carefully back in its box.
"What for?" he asked, handing it back to her.
She sighed, looking troubled. "Being here. I know this isn't easy on you and Sam, suddenly gaining a daughter like this. I don't want to be a burden on you, either of you. And you... well, you've made it so not awkward. I was so afraid when mom died that it was going to be like living with a stranger because... well, I was close to Sam but I was never certain if you still liked me now I've grown up into such an annoying teenager-"
"Cassie," he said, interrupting her, "I've always felt, if not like a father, like a favourite uncle to you. I...I think you're growing up to be an amazing young woman. We're all very proud of you. And... you lost a parent. I lost a child. Having you around is... " He lacked the words to say, but she understood, perhaps better than anyone else. There was a bond between herself and O'Neill that ran deep, built on understanding of grief. She and Sam shared the experience of losing their mother far earlier than they should have, but with O'Neill she could see the flip side of her sad coin.
"Thanks Jack," she murmured again, grabbing her pot of Hagen Daaz and spooning some of the ice cream into her mouth in a desperate attempt not to cry.
The infirmary was quiet at this late hour, the squeak of a nurse's pumps the only sound apart from the breathing of various sleeping patients. Doctor Smith pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to refocus on the slide under her microscope. Her eyes were blurred with tiredness, but with a tenacity uncannily similar to that displayed by Sam Carter when she was trying to solve a puzzle presented by an alien device, she refused to sleep until she got some answers.
A soft moan made her look up sharply from the microscope. Someone was whimpering in pain. As she stood up to investigate the source of the noise the alarm on a heart monitor began to sound.
Only one patient was wearing a monitor and Doctor Smith ran to Colonel Carter's bedside, glad she had possessed the foresight to attach the woman to one before she slept. The Colonel's heart was racing, she was convulsing and crying out now in agony.
"Nurse!" the doctor shouted.
It was pain beyond imagining, the whip cracking across her back, the skin already broken. They were flaying her alive, she couldn't bear the pain for much longer and she screamed--
--The thorn of the rosebush sank into her thumb. "Ow!" She placed the bleeding finger in her mouth-
--Confusion. These memories were not her own. What were they doing in her head?--
--The ashrak! The ashrak was torturing her, he would kill her! Every fibre of her being screamed for an end to the agony; Jolinar screaming with her-
--The staff weapon hit her in the back of the knees and she stumbled to the floor, biting her tongue. Blood filled her mouth--
--O'Neill. He was pulling away from Julia, obviously having just kissed her. She looked ridiculously coy, eyelashes fluttering as she looked downwards at the floor-
"Mine!" she snarled, opening her eyes.
Doctor Smith stood over her. "Yours?" she asked, confused.
Carter was soaked in cold sweat, every muscle in her body aching as if they had been cramping. "What happened?" she asked weakly, trying to forget the word she had just spoken.
"I think you had a fit. You were screaming."
Carter shook her head muzzily. "I was... reliving Jolinar's memories. Happens sometimes..."
"And you convulse?" Doctor Smith asked, unsatisfied. "Sometimes," Carter admitted, although it hadn't happened for years.
Doctor Smith pursed her lip, looking unconvinced. "Get some rest," she instructed, her voice softening just a little.
"What do you think I was trying to do?" Carter muttered, inaudible as the doctor left her to sleep again.
O'Neill sighed, putting his head in his hands. He had lost a file. Again. It happened with depressing frequency. Gilmor, his administrative aide, was going to kill him.
There was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said, frowning with puzzlement. He hadn't sent for anyone and he had no appointments with any SG staff.
It was Carter. "Sir," she said.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. He had popped into the infirmary at about nine o'clock but the Colonel had still been asleep. Doctor Smith was still steadfastly refusing to clear her for duty and she looked like being base-bound for a night, if not sleeping in the infirmary again.
"Better," she said, "I just came to check that Cassie was okay at yours last night."
"She was fine. We watched Moulin Rouge."
A pained look crossed Carter's face. "Again? What did you think of it?"
"The same as you," he informed her and she smiled.
"You don't mind her staying while I'm-?"
"Of course not. Oh," he coughed, "Pete 'phoned. Cassie told him you were stuck on base. I was surprised you hadn't 'phoned him yourself..."
He instantly regretted his words, but the curiosity had been in the forefront of his mind.
She goggled at him for a moment, shocked by his comment and also wondering herself why she hadn't 'phoned Pete. In honesty, she had been too busy worrying about Cassie to think about anything else. Pete knew that sometimes she was stuck on the base.... but all the same.
"I'm sorry," O'Neill said, his face unusually red. "That was inappropriate."
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter sir." She felt dizzy again.
"Are you alright?" O'Neill asked.
She opened her mouth to tell him everything was fine and felt her knees buckle. Catching herself on the edge of his desk she shook her head; the dizziness threatening to consume her.
O'Neill had already leapt up from his chair and as she fainted he caught her in his arms. There was a flash of silvery shadows she dimly registered as he grabbed her, then her eyesight faded and she knew no more.