I apologize for the delay, and will not make excuses. Mainly because I doubt that any of you want to read them. So here's the next chapter. Look, the plot has made itself apparent! (I hope.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate…go figure. Also, I don't own any of the songs mentioned. There were clips from them before, as Sam is flipping through the radio, but that won't work anymore, as has recently threatened account closure for use of popular song lyrics. (I'm sure they have their swell legal reasons, and so I make no argument…)

So, I'll give you song title and artist, and you can google them if you don't know them and would like to know what she's hearing. (And I suggest doing it for at least the last song mentioned this chapter.) We will make due for this story, and then I won't use songs anymore. And I know Sam probably wouldn't know every song title and artist mentioned, but who says she's actually thinking of them as she goes?

Anyway, on to the story, after this annoyingly long note. Hope y'all enjoy it. Next chapter is the last, which will be up as soon as I finish working out how to rewrite the beginning of it. (The rest works without the lyrics, but much of the beginning was centered around one song in particular, so we'll see how that goes…)

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"I did?"

"Well, either that or you were talking to someone else named Jack."

"You mean to tell me that I was talking in my sleep?"

"It would appear that way Carter."

Neither spoke the rest of the way to the commissary, but upon sitting down at the table with their colorful sugary food with next to no substance, Sam couldn't help but ask, "How do I know that you're not making it up?"

"Making what up?"

"Me talking in my sleep."

"Oh we're still on that are we?"

"Sir, what else did I say?"

"What makes you think I said you said anything else."

"Never mind."

"No, really?"

"I'm not sure actually."

"You're not sure? So it is something then." He added decisively.

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"Well, last night after I left—"

"You mean when Teal'c and Daniel left and you bolted."

The last comment earned him a frown and, "Sir," a pause, and then she continued, "After I left and went to call Pete back and I got his voicemail."

"And this is odd?"

"Well, yes, considering he had just paged me.

"Carter, with all the cool new doohickeys, gadgets and gizmos that you get to play with, you'd think that you of all people would have something more technologically advanced than a pager."

"Sir, did you really wanna talk, or just poke fun at me?"

"Sorry colonel. Go on."

She let out a small sigh and continued. "So I left a message then went inside and got your message. Figured I'd come in today, but I was planning on that anyway. Everything seemed fine; there was nothing to worry about. I was exhausted, but when I went to bed I couldn't sleep."

"And you've never had a restless night before?"

She made a small face at his sarcasm, saying, "Sir, when I can't sleep it's generally because I'm upset or anxious about something. There was nothing for me to be upset about."

"You sure?"

"I think so." She paused, thinking that she may know what would have disconcerted her, though it hadn't stayed on her mind long at all.

"You can keep going, Carter, I'm still listening."

She gave a thoughtful partial frown, and continued. "Well, I got up early and came here. I tried working for about an hour, but I couldn't concentrate."

"Maybe because you were dead tired. C'mon Carter. You can't survive solely on coffee," as an afterthought he added, "though Daniel's near proven that wrong."

Sam couldn't help rolling her eyes and sighing inwardly.

"How much sleep did you actually get before you came to and tried to work?" He asked in a mock all-business tone.

Another frown and, "Less than an hour. Maybe half, if you could call it sleep."

He raised his eyebrows with a look of disapproval and listened as she continued her play-by-play trying to figure out what she could be upset about.

"Then Siler came and told me what had happened with the elevator and all and I think I might have scared him."

"Little snappy?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good to know someone was worried… even if it was for a short time. Everyone seemed amused."

"Well, once I got there, I realized it was kind of funny."

"Yeah, see, I don't get that. How is being trapped in an elevator funny? You try it sometime."

"Sorry sir. But you should have seen it. Not to mention that weird dream…"

"Dream? That why you were talking in your sleep? What was it about?"

"Nothing, it was dumb."

"No, do tell," he insisted somewhat casually.

"Uh, fine. You and Daniel and Teal'c were all stuck in the elevator-"

"Ah, so perhaps you really were worried. Wait, Teal'c too?"

"Yeah, we couldn't get you out, none of our allies could, and then McKay of all people showed up to tell me that no one could help, that nothing was working, and that I had been asleep so long that I didn't know anything anymore. I was dead tired even in my dream, and you asked me to try to help, but I told you I couldn't, that I needed sleep, and that I was sorry… it was all very weird."

"Sounds weird… McKay?"

"Yeah."

There was a slight lull before Jack asked slightly hesitantly, "So, um, feeling any better?"

Sam smiled a little, looking at him and said, "Yeah, a bit I guess." They shared a silent moment, both perfectly content to sit in each other's company.

But the moment was soon spoiled by the loud sound of shattering glass, followed by Felger's obnoxious voice saying, "Sorry! I'll have it cleaned up in a minute! Sorry," and considerable protest from some nearby onlookers.

Jack put his spoon down loudly and said, "Carter, you're on downtime. You should use it. Goodness knows you need it. I am ordering you off base. I do not want to see you back here until the end of the week."

"But sir," she began to protest. Things had been going so well; the last thing she needed now was to be ordered off base.

"Not until Friday Carter."

"Wednesday."

"Thursday."

"Deal."

"Fine, you are ordered off base until Thursday, barring all accidents and emergencies."

"And who decides what's an accident or emergency?"

"Don't call us, we'll call you."

"Very funny sir," she said, standing up. "Can I at least have the rest of the day?" she asked as the two walked out the door and back toward her lab.

"You have half an hour to be outta here."

"Two hours."

"Twenty minutes."

"Why so eager to get rid of me?"

"I am not!" he insisted.

"Come on, give me at least an hour or two… sir."

"Forty-five minutes and that's my final offer…Carter."

"Done."

"Done."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Are you mimicking me sir?"

"Are you mim-" he stopped and grinned at her.

"Oh cut it out."

"Excuse me? I believe that's 'Oh cut it out, sir.'"

She shook her head, but refrained from saying anything further. They got to her lab and walked inside. He immediately picked up the nearest small object and started to play with it.

"Sir, isn't there something you should be doing?"

"Probably. There's bound to be some paperwork that's found its way onto my desk by now."

"Yeah. Where's my sweater?"

"I gave it to you already."

"You did? When?"

"Right before we went to the commissary. Remember?"

"Oh yeah. I think I left it in the room. I'll have to go get it before I leave."

"Yeah, just try not to forget that you're not aloud to work until Friday."

"Thursday."

"Right. I'm gonna-" he pointed over his back and stepped back a bit, "go now. See ya Friday."

"Thursday!" she called after him as he left, shaking her head.

xxxx

When she was finally in her car ready to drive back to her house, she turned the radio on.

The song that was on was a familiar country tune.

It was the chorus of a song by Rushlow, called "I can't be your friend."

Okay, not going there. She changed the station as she came to an intersection.

It was the chorus to "Everything you want" by Vertical Horizon.

She didn't want to go there either. Unfortunately, she was at in the middle of a turn and she couldn't change it just yet.

It was at the end of the song now and so the chorus was replayed but this time instead of "He is," at the beginning of every sentence, "I am," was used and she was reminded forcibly of how Jack always knew what to say to her.

Okay, new station. What was with the music they were playing?

Sarah McLachlan, the beginning of "Dirty Little Secret." She heard the first five lines before she decided she couldn't listen to it.

And again the battle with the radio stations received near Colorado Springs was on. Why didn't she just bring some CDs with her?

The last three lines of the chorus of Richard Marx's "Right Here Waiting for You," and she realized that even the slightest parallel was setting her on edge.

Again, time to change the radio station.

"Looking for a simple hair loss solution?"

Nope, not having any problems with her hair. She skipped over the classical station. Classic rock station was chanting about someone's furniture store. She wasn't into hard rock, and found herself back at the first station she was on. She didn't recognize the song right off, and decided it might be okay.

The last four lines of "Just to See You Smile" by Tim McGraw were playing, and she continued to listen.

She tuned out for a moment as she pulled over for a passing ambulance followed by number of police cars. It sent a shiver down her spine, but she ignored it.

She missed the first two lines of the second verse but heard the rest. The first four lines of the chorus played and she rushed to change it. That was no minor parallel. The clip was so close her and Jack that it frightened her, and she decided it was time to end the war with the evil, evil radio.

She turned off the radio. She was happily engaged and didn't need to have any doubts she might have be dramatized by the music on the radio. Or perhaps she was reading too much into it.

When Sam got home a short while later, there was again a message waiting for her on the answering machine.

"Hi, I'm calling for a Samantha Carter. This is Mrs. Shanahan, Pete's mother.-"

The tone of her voice suggested she had just sucked on a lemon, or at least was talking to someone utterly below and unworthy of her.

"Pete was injured in a shooting during work. Some drunken hooligans after New Years apparently. He's at the hospital. For some reason he told me that if anything happened I should tell you. So I am. You can come see him, but right now he's unconscious and I don't think you should be bothered by it."

It ended there. Okay, why in the world wouldn't she be bothered by it? Why hadn't she said what hospital he was at? Sam figured she could figure it out easily enough, but still. She grabbed the phone and sat down on the couch. After about forty-five minutes of calling (which would have been much shorter had she not been put on hold so many times) she learned the location of the hospital and was on her way there. She didn't even bother with the radio this time.

She got there without much trouble, but when she got there she wasn't allowed in to see him just yet. So she sat in the waiting room silently, staring around the room for quite some time until someone came up to her. She was a rather old lady, with a sour sort of look on her face.

She said in a falsely sweet tone, "You must be Samantha."

Sam looked up and gave an insincere small smile and said, "Yes. And you are…," though she knew full well who it must be.

"I'm Mrs. Shanahan, Pete's mother. I told you there was no need to come in just yet." Her tone now sounded much like it had over the answering machine.

"Yes, well, I didn't have anything else to do…" she answered in a sardonic tone.

Just then a doctor came out of a room and walked over to the two women who were looking at one another with obvious distaste.

"Mrs. Shanahan, you can go in now. He's going to be fine. He should be waking up soon." He turned to Sam and added, "Are you his sister?"

"Fiancé," she corrected.

"Oh, well, congratulations. You can both go in now."

"Thanks," she replied.

"I'll just wait out here," his mother said, "leave you two alone for a moment. I'll see him after you have a minute. I'm waiting for someone else to show up besides."

Sam gave a small smile in her direction, but had a strange feeling about how and what Pete's mother had just said. But still she went in and saw Pete lying in the bed. She didn't know where he had been shot; no one had told her.

He looked strange lying on the bed. She thought that she would feel bad about what had happened, like she would want to stay with him. But somehow now she felt unwanted and unwelcome. She wanted nothing more than to get away from this place, away from Pete's acerbic mother. But she didn't want to leave so soon after getting there. Perhaps it was just a point of pride.

His eyelids fluttered and she grabbed his hand. "Pete?" They continued to move, though his eyes didn't open.

He mumbled something but she couldn't hear. His head turned slightly to the side, and she leaned in to hear what he was saying.

"Sharon…"

"Sharon…"

Who was Sharon? She thought for a moment and remembered. Sharon was the name of his ex-wife.

She let go of his hand and straightened up. Looking out the door of his room, she saw his mother walking back toward the room. A tall thin, good looking brunette was following close behind.

Sam walked to the door with a frown on her face, and Pete's mother met up with her saying, "Oh, Samantha, dear, I hope you're doing alright." Her tone was again falsely sweet, and she wondered how Pete put up with her. "This is all a bit of a shock, I know. But there's someone I'd like you to meet. This is Sharon, a close friend of Pete's."

Sam's heart sank. It was so cliché she should have seen it coming. Fiancé's bitter mother, going and bringing the old ex-wife back into the picture. She decided that it shouldn't affect her, but at the same time part of her kept reminding her of the first thing Pete had said when he had woken up, whose name it had been.

Sharon gave a slight smile and held out her hand to Sam's, but all the while had a confused look on her face. "I'm sorry; I don't think I know who you are."

Sam gave another small and false smile. "I'm ah,…his girlfriend."

"Oh, I didn't realize he was… with someone now." Sharon seemed disappointed somehow. Wasn't she the one who had turned Pete out?

"Yeah, um, well, no point in all standing by the doorway now." Her voice faded out as she said the unnecessary statement and backed away from the door, admitting the other two women to Pete's hospital room.

He began to stir again, and his mother went and took his hand. Sharon walked over to the other side of the bed while Sam stood back and watched. His mother took one of his hands and said, "Wake up now dear, wake up. Your mother's here. And I brought someone with me."

His eyes fluttered and opened fully this time. "Look dear, it's Sharon."

"Sharon?" He sounded confused but somehow satisfied at the same time.

"Hi Pete, it's me. How are you feeling?"

He looked up at her and smiled slightly. Only, of all the smiles going around between the people in that hospital room that day, his was the first that seemed at all sincere. "Hi honey."

It was all Sam needed to hear. She slipped out of the room and went out to her car, tears beginning to fall silently down her face.

Even though she wasn't supposed to be calling the shots on this one, she definitely considered this one of those "accidents or emergencies" that qualified her to go back to the base early.

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'Kay, 'kay. Time to review. Tell me what ya think. (Sorry if you've already read this chapter and are waiting for the next. I needed to repost this one first.)

One more chapter to go, and it really should be up fairly soon. Before school is out for me anyway.