Jack walked along the dirt road that led from Aaroon Sonarnon's fields to home, just as the sun sank below the horizon and the brilliance of the Ornorean took over. He was tired. Bone tired. Tired so deep he couldn't think of a place on his body that wasn't tired. But ironically, it felt good. It had been a long time since he spent a day in the sun doing nothing but physical labor.

And clearing Aaroon's lower fields to prepare for the 'rest' season definitely qualified as physical labor. He had been down there for nearly two weeks, swinging the scythe to cut through the thick grass and splitting wood to stockpile for the coming cold.

Three months. It had been three months since the damn Gate refused to dial. Religiously, every morning Sam walked to the Gate and gave it a try. And every day, she reported no luck. Jack was beginning to think they were stuck here for awhile, at least until the Ornorean passed.

Which was going to be awhile.

He saw the lights of the house ahead, and almost broke into a jog but decided he was too damn tired. A hot meal and hotter shower would be heaven right now, but neither was likely. Maybe some hot food, but there would be no shower and the water in the wash basin was warm, but no where near hot. Then sleep. Glorious sleep.

Jack stepped onto the porch and opened the door. "Carter?"

The large room was empty, but a fire burned in the fireplace and the smell of stew mingled with the scent of burning hickory, making his stomach rumble. If he had to live without electricity, running water or cars, Jack couldn't think of anything better to come home to than a warm house and homemade stew on the stove.

And a beautiful woman.

He pushed the thought aside. Allowing his thoughts to linger too long on Sam was becoming a habit. But who could blame him? They shared a home. They slept not six feet from each other in the corner of the room. They ate together. He woke up every morning to her. For the last three months.

Jack went back to the door and looked out into the settling twilight. "Carter?" he called out. "Probably visiting Sarai, or something," he said aloud to the empty room.

Walking towards the fire, he saw she had left a pot of water to warm. Jack lifted it from the embers and set it on the nearby table, retrieving a washcloth from the neat stack Sam had made in the cabinet by the sink. As he went back to the fireplace, he pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it towards the foot of his bed. A stinging pain stretched across his chest and he hissed, looking down at the long scratch that stretched from sternum to left shoulder. The scythe had twisted in his hand and the tip caught him mid swing earlier that day. It wasn't a deep cut, but it still stung like hell. Like a really big paper cut.

Jack sank his hands into the warm water and sighed. He soaked the washcloth, and worked on cleaning up.

The door opened and Sam came in, a basket draped on her arm. She wore a flowing skirt and white linen blouse, having had to give up her BDU's when they tore on an exposed nail. Jack froze, his hands in the water, as she closed the door. She set the basket down, and turned towards the fire, jumping with a small yelp when she saw him.

"Sir! I – I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were back."

"Just got here. Thanks – um, thanks for the warm water."

Sam nodded, and reached for a bowl on the sink sideboard. "Are you hungry? I don't know how good this stew is. Sarai told me what to do, but I've never been much of a cook."

"If it tastes half as good as it smells, it'll be great."

"She sent home some biscuits with me. I have a hard enough time throwing meat and vegetables in a pot. I think making biscuits from scratch may still be beyond my abilities."

"Carter," he said firmly, making her look up. "It'll be great."

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide, then nodded and scooped some of the stew into the bowl. Jack squeezed the excess water from the washcloth and set both cloth and pot on the floor near the fire. When he turned, Sam was within arm's reach with the stew and biscuits in hand.

"Here you go."

"Thanks. Carter, you okay?"

"Sure. Eat up. And don't say I didn't warn you."

"I just need to get a clean shirt." He turned away to walk to his bed, when Sam reached out and touched his arm, sending shots of electricity right through him.

"Wait. Sir, what did you do?"

Jack looked down at the cut. It was bright red again where blood had come to the surface, but it wasn't actually bleeding. "Oh, the scythe and I had words. I won. You should see the scythe."

She didn't say anything, didn't even smile at his joke, but pushed gently on his arms to turn him towards the light of the fire. An oil lamp burned on the table, but the fire gave off a brighter glow.

"It's fine, Carter."

Jack nearly choked on the words when she ran her fingertips along the bare skin in a touch so gentle it nearly made him groan. Damn!

"Does it hurt?" she asked, not taking her eyes from his chest. Jack felt her breath against his still slightly damp skin.

He had to swallow, and hoped his voice was strong enough for her to hear. "Uh, no. Well. It stings."

"We should put something on it."

"We're out of triple-A. What are you going to do? Kiss it and make it better?"

Her chin came up, and he heard her sharp breath as she met his gaze. Where the hell did that come from, O'Neill? Kiss it and make it better? Good one!

Jack didn't make the conscious decision to do it, but his hands touched her waist, and with the slight touch, Sam moved closer. Her palm came against his chest, and Jack almost flinched at the heat of the contact. Was it the fire? Or was it just her? She dipped her chin, and held his gaze for just a moment longer before she closed her eyes and leaned forward. Her lips pressed against the scratch, and Jack involuntarily sucked in his breath, his fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked up at him again. Jack let his eyes wander over her face, noting that her hair had grown long enough to curl beneath her jaw, and three new freckles had appeared across the bridge of her nose. He brought up one hand and touched her cheek, his thumb brushing her lips. Her tongue came out to spread moisture over them, leaving them shiny in the firelight.

Jack bent his neck and moved to her, closing the distance between their lips. Her breath caressed his cheek in short, shallow waves. But as he felt the softness of her mouth just touching his, Sam jerked away and stepped free of his hold. He didn't try to stop her as she darted away and went to the door.

"I -- ah -- need to --" She never finished the sentence. The door shut behind her, leaving Jack alone again.

He sank down in his chair and slammed his elbows on the table, bracing his head in his hands. The bowl of stew jumped and settled again, but Jack had completely lost his appetite.

His appetite for food, anyway. His appetite for Sam Carter was damn near ravenous.

"If you don't mind me saying so, Samantha, you seem distracted today."

Sam looked up from the large bowl of Kakaoah cake batter, to where Sarai sat at her kitchen table. She held Raeya, their newborn baby, beneath a light blanket and fed the hungry little girl her mid-afternoon meal.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something? Do you need something?"

Sarai smiled. "Not at all. I'm concerned for you, though. Come. Sit with me and we can talk. The batter must rise for a short time before we can bake it, anyway."

Sam wiped her hands and sat down near Sarai. Since Raeya's arrival, Sam had spent her days at the Sonarnon home, helping Sarai with the baby and the other children. Sarai took Raeya from beneath the blanket and set the baby on her shoulder for a burp. When a sound so unimaginably loud for such a tiny thing echoed through the kitchen, Sam laughed.

"She is her father's daughter. A hearty eater, and one willing to show her gratitude for it," Sarai said. "Here. My arms are weary. Would you hold her for awhile?"

"Would you like me to lay her down for a nap?"

"It is daylight. She should be held."

Sam nodded and took Raeya, settling the baby into the crook of her arm. "She's a beautiful baby."

"While I am usually one more than willing to discuss the beauty of my children, I want to talk about you, Samantha. What troubles you?"

Sam shook her head. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Sarai smiled and tipped her head to the side. "Samantha. You have been with us for four changings of the moon. Perhaps that is not long where you come from, but it has been long enough for me to learn you, my dear friend. For many days, I've seen a heaviness in your eyes. Are you unhappy? Are you missing your home?"

Without thought, Sam began slowly swaying Raeya. "No, it's not – well, yes. I do miss home. I miss long soaks in warm baths and take out Chinese." She smiled at Sarai's puzzled look. "I told you on our second visit, our culture is very different than here. In many ways I envy you the lives you have here, but it's hard to change."

"And this is what troubles you?"

Sam looked away from Sarai's inquisitive eyes and focused on Raeya's delicate features. Her pink lips pouted in a soft heart shape, and her chin still worked even in sleep against a breast that was no longer there.

"Is it, perhaps, Jack?"

Her head snapped up. "Why would you say that? No. I just--" Sam sighed. "I can't explain something I don't get myself, Sarai."

They slipped into easy silence, and Sam stroked Raeya's soft hair. Even here, without all the pre-packaged lotions and creams, babies still smelled like babies.

"You are good with her."

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you don't know what troubles you?"

I know exactly what troubles me. But, Sam decided mentally that telling Sarai she lusted after her superior officer – more than lusted – this was so much more – wouldn't be a good idea. It had been over a week since the near kiss in the cabin, and neither of them had said a word about it. The tension in the cabin each night was so thick she could cut it with the damn scythe that sliced Jack's chest.

"I think I feel a bit useless," she finally said, pulling on the other emotion that left her frustrated and edgy.

"Useless? Samantha, you have been a gift to me. You have helped me endlessly both before and since Raeya's birth. Tella is a help, but the other children are still young."

"And I've been glad to help. I've enjoyed it. But, on Earth I'm a scientist. An explorer. It has been eight years... that would be almost eleven of your season cycles... since I spent more than one day that didn't involve disassembling some Goa'uld technology, or traveling to other worlds, or having the General asking me to fix this or that. I – I'm not a wife-and-mother type of woman, Sarai."

"Women are remarkable creatures, Samantha. We often become more than we ever thought we would be."

You know, all these years I've been concentrating on work. I just assumed that one day I'd..."

"Have a life?"

What about you? If things were different..."

"I wouldn't be here."

Sam drew in a breath, and had to blink hard to bring Raeya's face into focus again. Well, things were certainly different...