As one, SG-1 froze, then looked around madly for hiding places. Carter instinctively retreated and ducked left, remembering a door they'd just passed. The Colonel got there before her and swung the door open wide into the hallway, ushering her in before joining her in the cramped space. She briefly caught sight of Daniel and Teal'c hightailing it in the opposite direction and prayed they'd be fast enough to avoid detection.

Then O'Neill swung the door shut and they were alone in the dark. It was the first room they'd encountered without lights on, and Carter could only assume that it was because the room was currently serving no function. Based on its narrow dimensions, she wondered if they'd stumbled into some sort of alien broom closet.

Whatever its purpose, the room was so small that Carter suddenly found herself – not exactly unpleasantly – pressed up against her commanding officer. His right arm dangled at his side and she felt the vest he carried in that hand bump against her own and rub against her knee as he shifted to try and find a comfortable fit in the confined area. His left arm was braced from elbow to wrist against the wall to the right of her head; she knew this because she bumped it with her nose when she tried to turn sideways.

Finally she gave up trying to find a less awkward position and just focused on abstaining from further movement. Unfortunately, she and Colonel O'Neill were still pressed front-to-front and with each exhale he sent a small gust of warm air tingling over her left ear.

This was not the time, she told herself. This was not the time to be noticing things like that. Or things like the way she could sense exactly where his jaw line was, inches away from her lips. If she just tilted her head up a fraction, and turned a bit…

No, she thought. She had to stay focused. Their alien captors were probably right outside the door by now. She tried to think about staying quiet so they wouldn't be overheard. Or about escape. Or about how they'd been captured in the first place. Whatever. As long as she did not think about the way her CO's body felt pressed up against hers, or how erotic it felt to be pinned between him and the wall at her back. As long as she didn't dwell on the heady scent of him in her nostrils, or the way they were suddenly both breathing harder.

Damnit, she was dwelling.

Then, to make matters worse, she felt him tremble. It was just a small tremor, at first, but she felt it ripple through him and into her.

Concern for him immediately overrode her own nagging thoughts, and she brought her free hand up in the darkness to rest lightly at his shoulder. Maybe he was suffering from some sort of after-effect from the alien device he'd been connected to. "Colonel?" she whispered.

He shook again, and this time the shudder ended with him leaning in and nuzzling against the side of her head as he breathed a shaky sigh. There was a muffled thump from the floor, and as he wrapped his arms around her waist she realized that he'd dropped his vest and weapon. She followed suit with hers and brought both of her arms up to drape across his shoulders, just holding on.

No, disarming herself probably wasn't the wisest decision she could make at this juncture, but she knew now what this was. He was quaking in her arms, his heart thudding in his chest as he squeezed her tightly. Everything had finally slowed down for him, for just a minute. He'd confessed to loving her; virtual reality or not, the emotions were genuine. And then he'd had to watch her "die". Now they were both here, both alive, and the relief was finally sinking in. She knew that for him to be showing it like this, he'd been hit hard…hard enough that he couldn't suppress or avoid it long enough for them to get out of this situation, first. There was something humbling about a strong man – especially this man – made vulnerable by his feelings and she couldn't help but respond to him. To reassure him that she was okay.

Carter squeezed back, allowing one hand to briefly cup the back of his head before drifting down to tenderly stroke the nape of his bent neck. She didn't say anything, but then, they never needed to. And while the darkness robbed them of all of the visual clues she normally relied on to read his state of mind, his body language more than made up for it.

O'Neill's grip on her finally loosened. He had lowered his head so that his face was pressed into her neck; now he raised it and drew back slightly. Carter turned her head toward him at the same time, pulse throbbing in her throat where he'd just inhaled deeply against her skin. She felt his cheek against hers, the smooth slide of it until their lips met with the intensity of a star silently going supernova.

In utter quiet she melted into him as he sank into her, lips parting willingly to grant him access to her mouth. His tongue ran along her lower lip and this time the fluttery feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with panic. Her hold on him changed, became more clinging than comforting as the hand not on the back of his neck trailed down his right shoulder, fingers curling around his upper arm lightly to keep him where he was. His hands moved up to cup her face, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss.

Carter felt tears of emotion spring to her eyes, but she refused to open them. They gathered between her lashes as she kissed O'Neill back with all of the feeling she could, trying to make him understand all of the things she'd never been able to say. To make him feel the way she did when he kissed her like this.

She hadn't had a bad life. She'd grown up surrounded by people who loved her. She'd even been engaged, once, to a man she'd seriously contemplated spending the rest of her life with. But never once had she felt this wanted by someone. This needed. This cherished.

Then he slid his hands down over the swell of her hips, pulling her tightly against him. Carter's heart sped up as she felt passion flare amidst the tenderness, reminded that she wore nothing beneath the thin gown she'd awoken in. Based on the evidence pressed firmly against her abdomen, she realized that Colonel O'Neill was identically bereft of undergarments.

The thought did nothing to still her racing heart, or to extinguish the sudden, flaming desire she felt for him. He made a low, primal sound in the back of his throat that sent sparks of electricity tingling over her skin, shooting the temperature of the room up a good ten degrees. Her hands clenched fistfuls of the material over his back and arm; one of his slid up over her ribcage toward her breasts. The hand halted just short of touching the underside of one, making Carter want to groan with frustration. Then, once she realized just how much she really wanted him to touch her, she knew that this was on the verge of getting out of control. They had to stop.

The same thought must have occurred to O'Neill because his hand advanced no further, but instead dropped back to her waist. He allowed some breathing room between their bodies, but couldn't quite seem to force himself to break the kiss.

Carter could sympathize. Each time their lips parted for even an instant, she longed to taste them again. Each time he pressed his mouth on hers anew, she could feel how much she meant to him.

It was hard to give that up. But they had to. They always had to.

Gradually they were able to tame the frequency of their kisses, until they merely stood before one another, forehead to forehead, their lips brushing with each pant. Their breaths mingled and she could still feel the heat radiating from his body. "Sam," he said finally, "I…"

But what he'd been about to say, Carter didn't know. Because at that moment there was a sound at the door and an instant later a shaft of light penetrated the small room, bathing them in brightness. Carter and O'Neill turned toward the potential threat, squinting as their eyes adjusted.

"Jack, Sam," Daniel said as he craned his neck to look down the hall, "they're gone. Let's go."

Grateful beyond belief that the archaeologist's attention hadn't been focused on his teammates when he opened the door, Carter grabbed her gear and stepped out first, fervently hoping that the Colonel had had enough time to gain control over his body's responses. Unable to look down at herself without drawing unwanted attention, Carter figured she'd better be safe than sorry and carry her P90 across her chest, its butt crooked in her elbow. She didn't dare glance back at O'Neill.

In single file they again continued down the corridor, with Teal'c covering their six. Carter led the way, eyes sharp for any more aliens. The pair they'd avoided had been human, as far as she'd been able to determine, but that meant nothing. Most of the aliens they came in contact with had descended from the Tau'ri, so there was really no way of telling which race they might've been captured by.

She wanted more information. But what they really needed was a way out of here. And when she peered into an entranceway a half-dozen turns from their original hallway, she hit the mother load.

The others halted when she raised her arm up in a solid fist. They flattened themselves against the wall beside her. Colonel O'Neill leapfrogged over Carter, taking up the position immediately adjacent to the entranceway. He darted a look inside and Carter watched his eyes widen appreciatively as he took in the scene she had just a moment before.

"Sweet," he whispered, and Carter had to agree. On the other side of the wall was a huge pod bay containing massive numbers of surface-to-air spacecraft. The logical portion of her mind admonished her not to assume the vessels were space-worthy, but they looked so incredibly advanced that she didn't see how they could not be.

Their design was sleek and sophisticated in nature, with long, graceful curving wings and a streamlined nose that flared out toward the cockpit and thrusters. As far as she could tell, they were two-seaters, painted a menacing black and purple. They were dark, deadly-looking, and beautiful. Carter itched to fly one. But more importantly, she really, really wanted to get her greedy hands inside the engine of one and dismantle it.

O'Neill whipped around with his back to the wall again. "Okay, kids. Looks like we've got a way out. As fun as this whole experience has been, let's get the hell out of here before someone catches on to us."

"Teal'c, Daniel," he said, jerking a nod at them to indicate that they should go first. The linguist and the warrior crept forward, sliding seamlessly into the bay while Carter and O'Neill kept watch.

The Major was just about to follow when they heard Daniel's voice from inside. "Uh…Jack?"

Next to Carter, O'Neill bit out a curse as he rounded the corner into the entranceway. "Daniel, does the word "shhhh" mean anything to you?" he whispered harshly.

Carter followed him, her back to his, keeping her eyes peeled for anyone who might sneak up behind them.

"Uh…" she heard Daniel say, and then – chancing a look to see what the holdup was – came to an abrupt halt.

Oh.

Well. No point in covering their retreat if there was already a cluster of aliens in front of them, blocking their escape.


O'Neill's gun had come up the moment he spotted the group of people standing between SG-1 and the ships. Its muzzle pointed unwaveringly at the leader, a tall, thin man in long white robes that emphasized his height. The half-dozen men and women behind him were similarly attired. All possessed a sort of calm bearing…a confident, yet unassuming stature that proclaimed tranquility. None appeared armed, and none looked particularly threatening at the moment, but O'Neill was taking no chances.

"Don't move," he ordered.

The front man smiled gently, his eyes clear blue and guileless. "It was not our intention to do so."

"Yeah, well, good," O'Neill said. " Just keep your hands where I can see them."

The robed man spread his hands fractionally outward in the apparently universal gesture indicating no threat. "You have nothing to fear from us."

O'Neill felt something that was too grim and scary to be a smile flit across his face. "So says the guy who took us prisoner and tortured one of my people for the past five days."

If the other man was perturbed, he showed no sign of it. If anything, his smile grew. "It only appears so, to you. In truth, you have been our guests for a mere few hours."

To his right, and slightly behind him, O'Neill could hear Carter's innate curiosity warring with the skepticism induced by her military half. "What do you mean?"

"Allow me to start from the beginning," the man bowed his head slightly. "We have already met, but none of you currently possess the memory of it. My name is Polytus."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "As in…?"

"As in the Basileus of Nisia, yes," the man confirmed. "Although the man you came to know as Polytus was nothing more than a fabrication with my name and title. In fact, all of the people you believe you have come in contact with over the past several days were nothing more than computer programs, interfaced with your minds through our simulation devices."

O'Neill winced in anticipation of the conversation taking a scientific turn. The words "program", "interface" and "device" were all triggers certain to make his eyes glaze over. He'd hung around Carter long enough to recognize the beginning of a good technobabble rant when he heard one, anddecided to nipthis onein the bud before it got started. "Look, I'm not really big on all the details. Why don't you bottom-line it for me?"

"Polytus'" expression remained unoffended. "Simply put," he explained, "your team came through our stargate two days ago. We were well-met, and learned that we share a common enemy."

"The Goa'uld," Teal'c said, and as usual his words sounded more like a statement than a question.

Polytus nodded. "We were indeed brought here by two of that race, several thousand years ago...we, and several other planets in this solar system. For centuries we worshipped the Goa'uld as gods; we knew no better. But our "gods" grew lax in their monitoring of us, so long as our shipments of naquada were sent through the stargate on time. In their absence, we became more learned and developed technologically. We became capable of space flight and discovered our planetary neighbors. We banded together, pooling our resources and knowledge, until at last we were able to throw off our oppressors. Since that time we have been seeking other cultures through the stargate."

"That's…well, we just haven't met many other cultures before that have fought the Goa'uld and won," Daniel said, wearing his "that's fascinating!" expression. "How have you kept them from returning?"

For the first time, a touch of anxiety crossed Polytus' features. "We have not had to prevent an attack thus far," he explained, "because one has not been launched. But it is the very thing we live in fear of."

The Basileus gestured with one hand toward the multitude of spacecraft behind him. "We have become a strong force; our technology has advanced rapidly over the past several centuries. But we fear that if the Goa'uld should return, we will not be able to fight them alone. For this reason we have begun seeking potential allies through the stargate."

"And…we came through two days ago," Daniel prompted.

Polytus nodded again. "That is correct. We shared our history with you, and you with us. You told us that our people were brought here from your world, which corresponds with some of our oldest myths."

The tall man smiled. "Our people were very excited to meet you. Even more so to learn that there exists an association of peoples united in fighting the Goa'uld."

"It sounds like we got along famously," O'Neill said. "So, why don't we remember any of it? And what's with the torture?"

Polytus again smiled gently. "There is one answer for both of your questions. You must understand…we are relatively inexperienced in matters pertaining to alien cultures. Our only source of knowledge thus far have been the Goa'uld, and they were hardly trustworthy. We could not be certain that any of the cultures we met through the stargate would be honorable, and devised a way to test promising contacts. A simulation scenario, as it were."

The Basileus stepped toward them slightly, drawing several pieces of paper from a pocket hidden within the folds of his robe. "It is a two-step process; the first being an injection that suppresses memories. In your case, we needed to make you forget ever having met us, so that you would not know you were being tested. Anyone who would refuse to even contemplate this course of action would automatically be eliminated as a potential ally."

"And…we agreed?" Daniel guessed.

Polytus nodded and handed his papers to the archaeologist. Daniel shuffled them, scanning each one. "These are in our handwriting," he said, looking up at the members of his team. "They're written on SGC stationary and say to trust what he says."

O'Neill pursed his lips, unconvinced. "You said this was the first step."

Again, Polytus nodded in affirmation. "The proposal was suggested to you and you left for a day to confer with your superiors. Upon your return this morning, Doctor Jackson asked me to keep these papers safe for you while you underwent the simulation."

"Which we've only been in since this morning?" Carter clarified.

"Yes," the woman standing next to Polytus said. At blank looks from each member of SG-1, she smiled ruefully. "I apologize. Of course, you don't remember me. I am Thalia; I was responsible for your health while administering the simulation."

"Thalia," Daniel said. "We met…"

The woman nodded. "Each of the 'characters' we devised for the simulation were based on real people. As I was saying, the program is designed to simulate any period of time that we need. While you have experienced a number of days within the program, only a few hours have passed in reality. Once you are ready, we will give you another injection that will remove the memory suppressant and you will recall all of this for yourselves."

"So you're telling us everything we've been through over the past week wasn't real?" O'Neill asked skeptically. "It was all some big "the aliens are testing us to see if we're worthy" thing? That's your line?"

Polytus' brows furrowed quizzically at O'Neill's slang. "That is indeed our…line, Colonel. I assure you it is the truth."

O'Neill stared back at him for several moments. "You couldn't come up with anything better?" he finally asked.

"Actually, sir," Carter piped up, "I sort of believe them."

O'Neill turned another long stare on his second in command. "What?"

"Well, if it were all a lie, you'd think it would be a more believable one. Or at least more convenient. Besides, there's evidence to support what they're saying."

Teal'c cant his head curiously. "Such as?"

Carter paused, and O'Neill was interested to see a slightly self-conscious expression cross her face. "Um…well…my legs are still smooth, for one."

Suddenly O'Neill was back in the tiny room, in the dark, pressed up against his 2IC. His lips were on hers, his hands were at her waist, feeling the heat of her body through the thin material of the gown she wore. He cleared his throat, attempting to banish the memory from his mind before he started fantasizing about touching her bare legs. Damnit, why hadn't he touched her legs when he'd had the chance? "That's…fascinating Carter, really, but I fail to see…"

"She's right," Daniel interrupted, rubbing his jaw and looking at his hand as if he expected to see something there. "If we'd been here for days we'd all have stubble."

O'Neill thought about it. He really hoped not, because it was somewhat disconcerting…not to mention really, really weird, but… "Maybe they shaved us?"

Teal'c looked as if he were just as disturbed by the possibility as O'Neill.

Polytus actually chuckled. "I assure you, Colonel, we did not."

"I don't think so, sir," Carter said dubiously.

"Okay. What else?"

"Sir?" Carter looked confused.

"You said "for one"," O'Neill reminded her. "Before we just go letting them inject us with stuff, I want to know what else makes you think they're telling the truth."

Carter's self-conscious expression intensified, and she couldn't meet his gaze. The hint of a blush touched her cheeks. And even though she'd said absolutely nothing to indicate what was going through her mind, O'Neill abruptly thought he knew exactly what it was. Again he was reminded of their kiss in the alien broom closet. The sweet taste of her lips. More relevantly, the lack of morning-breath.

He experimentally probed his tongue along his teeth, finding them clean. So unless the Nisians had been brushing SG-1's teeth in addition to shaving their faces (or legs, in Carter's case) over the past five days, it was likely that their version of events was correct.

He glanced at Carter again, catching her watching while he ran his tongue over his teeth. Her blush deepened as his train of thought became obvious to her, and he felt a small, somewhat smug smile touch his lips. He had so known what she was thinking!

"Well, uh…usually we get separated when aliens try to get into our heads," Daniel offered, oblivious to the silent communication between his teammates. "Like when Hathor made us think we'd been cryogenically frozen and revived in the future. Oh, and they usually want important information, too, like our iris codes. None of that happened this time."

"Additionally, we made your weapons and supplies available to you immediately upon waking," Polytus pointed out.

O'Neill exchanged looks with Daniel, then with Teal'c and Carter before turning back to Polytus. "All right," he said finally, lowering his gun for the first time. "Let's say we believe you. What next?"

"Now we will return your memories to you, as per our agreement," Thalia said.

"So did we pass?" Daniel wanted to know. "Your test, that is?"

Polytus smiled widely. "Indeed. We were hoping to encounter a race that valued loyalty, compassion, strength and purpose. You fulfilled all of those hopes. We were all most impressed at your conduct during the simulation, especially your unselfish willingness to help the oppressed workers in the mines."

He turned to Carter. "By refusing to submit to what youbelieved was wrong, even upon pain of death, you proved the courage and fortitude of your people. We are proud to have originated from the same ancestors."

Carter smiled her self-conscious smile again. "Thank you."

"Then only the environment was fabricated," Teal'c said, "while the events were true."

"That is correct," Polytus said. "Once set in motion, the simulation had hundreds of possible scenarios that could have played out, depending upon your choices. We only had to intercede a few times."

At O'Neill's questioning look, Polytus explained, nodding his head to indicate the Colonel, Teal'c and Daniel. "In addition to planting the false information about Nisians and the Agonis torture device in Teal'c's memory, several times we were forced to curb certain behavior. Each of you three were inclined – at numerous points within the simulation – to undertake steps that would have prevented Major Carter from being killed. Even to the point of sacrificing yourselves. While these attempts may have been successful, and were certainly counted in your favor, we could not allow them to succeed, or else the simulation would have ended before we could learn whether Major Carter was willing to die for what she believed in, or not.

"Toward the end," he said, narrowing his focus to O'Neill, "we were repeatedly forced to subdue your natural inclination to save her."

Carefully not looking at Carter, O'Neill forced a smile. 'Well, that explains that."

"Quite," Polytus agreed. "Are you ready to receive your injections, now?"

"Oh, I'm always ready for big, honking needles," O'Neill cracked.

He jerked a nod at his team and they began to trickle out of the room along with the group of Nisians. He watched as Carter sheepishly took a simulation ring out of her pocket and returned it to Thalia with a mumbled apology, and heard Daniel muttering to himself as he passed. "Should've known it wasn't real…I never get to keep my glasses."

Colonel O'Neill lingered, hoping for a word alone with Polytus. The Basileus, apparently sensing his intent, obligingly stayed behind with him. "You said we passed your test," O'Neill started.

Polytus nodded. "Yes. The Tau'ri have shown exceptional character and potential, and we would be honored to accept them as allies. I only hope that your superiors will be as pleased with all that we can offer."

"I'm sure they will," O'Neill murmured. "But uh…I guess what I'm wondering is…you saw everything that happened in there, right?"

Polytus nodded again, and O'Neill went on, a little uncomfortable. "So, what I was doing at the end there…it doesn't skew your perception of us?"

O'Neill watched the Basileus' face carefully for any signs of disapproval or repugnance, seeing none. "Not at all," Polytus said. "I can imagine wanting to do no less to someone who had killed my beloved."

He paused, sharing a meaningful look with the Colonel as an understanding seemed to pass between them. "Indeed," he continued, "we had determined that only a race capable of forming such attachments would be suitable. The force of your love for her was the final proof that we needed."