Chapter 7 – Finally, A Fishing Trip

"This is great," she remarked happily, watching as the boy of the fishing line bobbed back towards them gently.

"I told ya."

"I can't believe we didn't do this years ago."

"Yes, well," said Jack, mock-sternly, and smirked, "let's not dwell."

Sam looked at him and gave him a relaxed, friendly smile, then gazed back out at the placid pond. It happened so quickly that at first she thought she'd imagined it. But Jack was lowering his fishing line, his face showing surprise and a hint of disbelief. Seconds ago a rather chunky fish had jumped out of the water, soared in an arc-like motion through thin air, and had then re-penetrated the rippling surface with a small splash. Was it really so strange? Fish, pond. Pond, fish. The two fit into one equation quite easily. But…

"I thought that tape said there were no fish in your pond?"

Jack turned to look at her. "Close enough," he replied simply, after a moment's thought.

She chuckled and he grinned back at her with a boyish delight, an expression she'd seen too rarely in the long eight years of knowing him. Who cared if their timeline wasn't entirely how it should be due to one pesky fish? They were finally at his cabin, together. Her own smile was enhanced when she realised Jack was just pleased because she seemed to be enjoying herself here.

That was Jack, she supposed: uncomplicated and easily contented. Well, he must be contented easily if he enjoyed fishing this much. As for her, she was just happy to be spending time with him away from work.

She heard Daniel and Teal'c lumbering up behind them with their heavy fishing gear, borrowed from Jack, of course, who had now reeled in his fishing line and was tossing it across the pond with another long whoosh.

"Nice," he muttered as it landed metres away with a small plop, issuing another smile from Sam who was beginning to feel more and more suited to this small cabin up in Minnesota every minute she spent here with him. It was a beautiful, individual spot, secluded and so quiet. High above the tall pine trees which surrounded his cabin the Spring sun radiated its weak warmth, highlighting the peaks of the purple-tipped mountains in the long-stretching distant view.

Nearly two weeks ago, for the sixth time, he'd asked her to accompany him on a fishing trip to his cabin, and for the first time she'd answered with a 'Yes'. She didn't really know why—she'd just said it.

"Carter!"

"Sir! Hi… I was just finishing up here."

"Yeah, so I see. That explains why your computer's still on, your log book's open, and there's a big honkin' cup of fresh steaming coffee on your desk, right?"

She grinned a little sheepishly. "Right."

"Carter, one day I'm gonna order you off this base."

"Haven't you already done so before, sir?"

"Well, yeah, but you never actually listened that time." He chewed his lip and his expression became serious. "Carter," he began, "I know you don't need reminding again but you just lost someone."

She looked away. "I know."

"You need some time to yourself for a while. Believe me."

"Sir, three weeks is a long time to sit around doing nothing for."

"Why don't you come fishin'?"

"Sir?"

"Look, I know it's never appealed to you in the past. But the offer's still there. Think about it, Carter – it'd be fun. Daniel and Teal'c are coming," he added quickly, and clapped his hands together. "Perfect opportunity for team bonding!"

She smiled at that.

"Okay then. I think I'll join you."

The General had hardly been able to believe his ears—obviously he'd expected her to reject his offer. But now they were here and Sam was thoroughly enjoying having nothing to do but sit, drink and, from time to time, chat.

Sam and Jack looked round as a nasty-sounding slap broke the peaceful quietness.

"You want some mozzie-cream, T?" asked Jack, as Teal'c brought his large hand away from his face, looking extremely annoyed.

"I will refrain," said the jaffa, sitting down rigidly.

"Your choice," said Jack. "But then again, I see your thinkin'. What's a couple of mosquitoes when you've had hundreds of replicators to deal with?"

"As a matter of fact, O'Neill, I would currently much prefer to have to fend off replicators."

Raising his eyebrows, Jack said, "Are you sure you don't want that cream?"

"That's Teal'c," commented Sam. "Always more happy with a weapon."

"Imagine if replicators showed up now," mused Daniel randomly. "We'd be devastated."

Jack and Sam looked at each other, bemused.

"Daniel," called Jack over his shoulder, "have you been on my beer already?"

"No, Jack… why d'you say that?"

"Just wonderin'."

"How much beer have you bought, sir?" asked Sam, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

He seemed to consider this. "Enough," he settled with, innocently.

"Right."

"Enough to quench Danny's needs… mine… yours…" He jabbed his thumb behind his head. "And I always forget Teal'c's a non-drinker, so that explains any excess."

Sam smiled. "Enough, then, huh?"

He grinned.

"You betcha."

Ten hours and seven or eight beers later at eleven o'clock, Sam was feeling more than a little tipsy, and there was still a huge stock of alcohol ice cold in the fridge. They were all lounging on the floor of the cabin's living room, now clad in their nightwear. This was Daniel's fault. After the fifth beer, he'd insisted they climbed into their 'pyjamas' because he'd wanted to see what Teal'c wore for bed, and Sam and Jack had both thought this extremely disturbing until Teal'c had appeared before them.

It turned out that Daniel had gone upstairs and for some reason had been blessed with the idea of drawing on Teal'c plain white T-shirt. Teal'c now had the privilege of the slogan 'I am an alien' emblazed across his broad chest, to accompany the rather simplistic diagram of a jaffa fighting around the stomach area.

Sam and Jack had collapsed with laughter, not particularly at the joke itself but at Teal'c's face as Daniel had swung the door open. It had taken almost fifteen minutes for the archaeologist to persuade Teal'c to come downstairs, and Teal'c had stood there wearing the stupid T-shirt and looking nothing but put out.

Anyone could conclude straight away that Daniel wasn't exactly suited to the job of an artist. He'd included a staff in the picture, but the long stick had been drawn in the wrong place and, to put it extremely, looked quite pornographic. Of course, such things were doubly amusing when over twenty empty beer bottles had been discarded to the side of the room.

The scene had then prompted them to play Pictionary and it was Sam and Jack against Daniel and the 'alien'; she was trying desperately to win, as she had a feeling Daniel would hold them to their agreement of a dare at the end. God only knows what he would think up in his giddy, drunken state.

Star Wars played on the TV in the background and everywhere she looked she was surrounded by junk food: pizza slices, donuts, and potato wedges to name a few. And then there was the alcohol. Well, that and Teal'c's cranberry juice.

"I believe you are attempting to portray General Hammond, Daniel Jackson."

"No, no, no!" said Daniel exasperatedly, holding up the paper with the sketchy figure drawn onto it. "Teal'c, how does that even resemble General Hammond?"

"The baldness," suggested Jack between mouthfuls of popcorn.

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c. "And your figure wears a short-sleeved shirt."

"It is not General Hammond!" said Daniel indignantly. He placed the paper down on the small table they were using and began to sketch another figure hastily.

"Thirty-two seconds left, Danny," warned Jack.

"Thirty, now," put in Sam, grinning.

"Twenty-eight…"

"Will you guys shut up? You're distracting me."

"Mmm, yes," drawled Jack teasingly, "and that would be the point."

"Are you certain it is not General Hammond, Daniel Jackson?"

"Quite certain, Teal'c," said Daniel through gritted teeth.

"Oh, come on, T," Jack whined, "even I know who it is."

Sam glanced at him, surprised. "You do?"

"Sure. Come here." He gestured for her to lean closer and, cupping his hand around her ear, whispered, "Think Simpsons."

"Ohhh," she realised, straightening up again. "Gee, Daniel. No offence or anything, but you're a little off there, don't you think?"

Daniel held up the scruffy piece of paper to Teal'c triumphantly. "There! That just makes it obvious."

Teal'c continued to stare at Daniel's drawing blankly. The second figure wore a cap and possessed a sharp triangle for a nose, and an arrow linked it to the first, slightly plumper figure. There was a pause.

"Is that me?" asked Jack in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," Daniel said, a little apologetically. Sam and Jack stared at him. "Well, it's the first thing that comes to mind, isn't it?"

The General stroked his left eyebrow self-consciously. "Why'd you draw my scar?"

"That is a pitiful drawing, Daniel Jackson," commented Teal'c, turning away to the TV and his favourite film.

"Hey—if Jack can tell what it is, it can't be that bad!"

"Good one," said Jack, pointing his finger at Daniel.

"So, Teal'c, still no idea?"

Teal'c's lips curled slightly in a smug smile. "None," he said.

"Well, your time's up anyway," Sam declared, glimpsing the clock's hand. "You'd better tell him, Daniel…"

"Teal'c, it's Homer," Daniel told him, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, and exaggerated every syllable. "Homer Simpson. Why do you think I drew Jack?"

"I see," responded Teal'c, disinterestedly. "Next time, I advise you to draw three hairs instead of one, as Homer Simpson is not entirely bald on the top of the head. General Hammond, on the other hand, is."

Teal'c's way with words was so serious that Sam and Daniel burst into peals of laughter, and Jack grinned widely.

"You're learning well, T, buddy!" was all he said, grabbing Daniel's drawing and shaking his head. "You're a worse obsessive than I am, and I'm The Simpsons' biggest fan."

All Sam's efforts of winning had surpassed in vain, as she waited cautiously for Daniel to decide on their 'dare'. It was at times like these the astrophysicist and Air Force officer was sincerely glad the White House wasn't monitoring the lives and behaviour of the people they relied on to ensure Earth's safety from alien threats. She was sure the President would have suffered a heart attack at the things he saw, simple human beings or not. She looked sideways at Jack, and grinned. Well, someone certainly appeared nervous. She picked up his beer can and pressed it into his hand.

"Sir, relax." They were both leaning against the couch, and Daniel sat opposite them, watching them with an unfamiliar naughty glint in his eyes. "What's the worst he could ask us to do?"

As his eyebrows climbed, Jack took a swig of his beer and muttered, "I could think of a few things."

"You're not the only one," put in Daniel, shifting to sit cross legged on the floor. "You've reason to be—"

"Daniel," the General interrupted, "quit the suspense and get on with it, will ya?"

"Sir," she smiled, "I really wouldn't worr—"

"Kiss Sam."

Sam's head whipped round to face Daniel. "What?" she snapped.

"Kiss Jack," the archaeologist interpreted for her, a slow, satisfied smirk showing on his drunkenly flushed face. "I'm sure it's not hard."

Irritating heat prickled in the skin of her cheeks. "That's—"

"No, we'll do it," said Jack loudly, getting onto his knees. "Jeez, don't get so excited, Danny."

Suddenly feeling very exposed, very vulnerable, she stared. What the hell was he playing at? He knew they couldn't, no matter how drunk they were! "Sir?" she asked unsurely, as he leaned closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"Carter?"

"What are you—?"

He slid a palm over one hot cheek, framing her ear with fingers and thumb. "Carrying out our dare," he told her, a little too calmly.

"But we—"

"Relax." As he spoke that one, quiet word he shortened the space between them and suddenly his face was extremely near to hers. Stunned, unable to think or act, Sam didn't do anything. He was about to kiss her…! But in the last moment his lips swerved round and planted themselves on her other cheek—and the firm peck was purposely loud.

"You cheat!" exclaimed Daniel, his disappointment evident.

And yet it had felt wonderful.

"Hey," said Jack calmly, "you dared me to kiss her and I kissed her. What's wrong with that?" He hadn't removed the arm from her shoulders, and she knew she would miss it when he did.

"I dared you both to kiss," Daniel clarified, frowning.

Sam jumped in. "So you did." Quickly, in a touch that was barely eligible, she leaned forward and brushed her own lips against Jack's rough cheek… but didn't dare to meet his eyes which she knew were watching her closely. "Satisfied?"

"Sure." Daniel heavily sighed and waved a hand, knowing he was defeated.

"Tsk, tsk. Twenty-three languages and you can't even make your instructions clear enough," Jack teased. "But, then again, looking at all those beers…"

"Whatever," yawned Daniel, stretching. "I think it's time for bed."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed, and finally looked away from the TV screen. "I too must now take rest."

"Killjoys," muttered Jack under his breath. He was so close Sam could almost feel the words forming in his throat. "Fine. Go use the bathroom before Carter hogs it for the night."

As Daniel scrambled to his feet and left the room, Teal'c switched off the television, following him, and Sam turned her gaze sideways to Jack with an indignant look in her eyes.

"I do not hog the bathroom, sir."

"That right? It certainly provided a strong enough incentive for Danny boy to shift his ass."

She smiled, every moment becoming more aware of just how heavy his arm felt where it was draped over her shoulders. She flushed guiltily. Just a short moment ago, as Jack had pecked her on the cheek, she'd felt hollow and disappointed. She had wanted him to kiss her. And she hadn't cared about Daniel and Teal'c watching, either. The knowledge of this showed somewhere in the intensity of his eyes. Dark brown eyes, only inches away, searching her own. God, she hadn't been this close to him in a non-tragic situation for a long stretch of time. All at once she felt nervous, afraid and strangely excited. But no… this was wrong.

"I'm—I'm feeling tired, too, sir," she stammered, knowing she needed to pull back and away from his warm side in her drunken haze, but unable to. Jack, however, who had seemed completely at ease, winced at that last comment.

"Carter," he began with a slight frown, "I was wondering if we could lay off the ranks and formalities this week. Just for a week, while we're off duty. Make things more friendly."

Was that such a good idea, she asked herself? Allowing him to call her Sam? But then, come morning he probably wouldn't remember his request anyway. "Yeah, 'course."

He smiled widely and finally removed the arm from its perch. "So, Samantha." He paused for emphasis, and shuffled back a bit to give her some space. "You like it here?"

"The shorter version of Sam isn't a formality, Jonathan," she countered pleasantly. His face crinkled up at the referral to his full Christian name.

"Touché," he muttered.

Sam beamed, before her face softened and she said, "I do like it here, s—I mean, well… Jack. I'm glad I came."

"Good. I'm glad you came, too, and I'm glad you're glad you came."

Giggling, she stood up, spontaneously offering her CO a hand, and instructed, "Come on, sir. Let's get into bed now." Wow, that technically sounded quite bad, didn't it?

"Hey," said Jack. He reached up and allowed her to haul him to his feet. "Don't encourage me."

Although she should have retorted to that, she didn't. Even though their minds were misted with alcohol, even though they were talking in harmless words intended as jest, there was still a serious meaning in there somewhere—and Sam didn't want to mock their feelings by implying that her only attraction to him was through a certain sexual desire. Fair enough, it was there, but it was definitely not the only reason she wanted him in that way. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Jack was regarding the mess on the floor with the same caution he showed when meeting with an alien species for the first time. He sighed, and waved a dramatic hand at the buried carpet. "The practical side of me is telling me to clean this up now, minus the hangover."

"You want some help?"

Shaking his head, he gave her a small nudge towards the doorway. "Trying to earn some brownie points, Carter?" he quipped, and grinned at the glare she shot him.

"No formalities means no 'Carter's, as well as 'General's, 'Colonel's and 'Sir's," she scolded quietly. "It's Sam."

"Sam," corrected Jack with a smile. "I think we'll let Danny boy sleep in the trash tonight. The old spacemonkey deserves some punishment after that dare."

She stopped outside the spare bedroom in the hallway. "Your living room will smell," she pointed out, and Jack seemed to consider this.

"It's worth it," he decided finally.

An unconscious smile was brought to her lips as she planted the image of him standing there firmly in her mind forever. He looked so… well, cute, and she never thought she'd be describing a fifty-odd year old in that way. His hair was all tousled, and his cheeks were flushed a slight shade of red. Adding that to his dopy grin and the loose sweatpants and faded T-shirt he was donned in, Jack O'Neill seemed such a different man to the set officer she was used to, in SGC fatigues with a pen twiddling between fingers. She shook her head. Where had that come from? The past year was only a portion of their total number of years working together. The Jack before that, and one, she knew, they both missed, was clad in BDUs with a P-90 clasped roughly in one hand. When they'd been Colonel and Major.

Just then, Daniel emerged from the bathroom. He was swaying very slightly and his glasses had been knocked askew.

"Jack? That you?"

Jack rolled his eyes at Sam and said, "I keep forgetting how it's best to restrict Daniel's beer." He moved forward and took the other man's arm. "All right, let's get you on that couch…" Smirking at Sam, he added, "Get in that bathroom while you've got the chance."

Assuming Teal'c was in the kitchen, she needed no second prompting. She came out again a short while later, teeth brushed, face washed and bladder empty, to find Jack leaning against the wall staring at his watch with raised eyebrows.

"Sir," she spurred, curiously. He shot her a look. "Um… Jack," she amended, kicking herself.

"Not bad," remarked Jack, nodding. "Five minutes. It's a record."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Don't be so stereotypical. Come tomorrow and it'll be you hogging that bathroom!"

Wincing, he lowered his arm and moved past her. "Probably," he agreed grimly, and gestured to the back room. "Danny and Teal'c—all settled. Most likely flat out already."

"Good."

"Sooo… you gonna sleep well?"

"Yeah, should do," she said. "I slept like a log last night."

"Well, Sam, I did give you the comfiest bed."

She gave him a warm smile and started to retreat down the hall. "Good night, then… Jack."

"Yes," he returned in a friendly voice, "good night. And don't let the bed bugs bite."

She laughed softly as he closed the bathroom door, and the smile subsisted as she slipped into his cosy spare bedroom and flopped onto the big double bed. When they had arrived yesterday afternoon Jack had insisted she took the spare room, whilst Teal'c and Daniel slept on the sofas—because she was the 'lady', apparently, which Sam had snorted at, knowing he was joking. After all, she'd spent as much time trying to get to sleep on rough terrain in a cramped tent as any of them. But Daniel and Teal'c didn't seem to mind, so who was she to complain? And the General—Jack—was right: it was definitely a comfy bed. A small and drowsy sigh of contentment escaped her lips and she found herself closing her eyes before her head had even settled against the pillow.

The loneliness and grief that had suffocated her since her father had died was slowly but surely slipping away. And Jack, as well as Daniel and Teal'c, was playing a significant part in her returning happiness.

Crap. Headache. Heaviness. Hard to wake up. The three 'H's could only mean one thing… a hangover.

Unfortunately disorientation didn't fit into such convenient alliteration. But someone was shaking his shoulder gently with a hand that felt comfortably warm. It was too bad, because all he really wanted to do was keep sleeping.

"Sir." A familiar voice, but it sounded distant and misted. "Sir!" Okay, so it wasn't going to leave him in peace. What, were the aliens attacking or something?

"Whaddayawan'?" he groaned, and rolled over to bury his face in the pillow.

An amused laugh sounded from above him—damn, he really was awake now—and the cursed hand that had disturbed his blissful and oblivious-to-plain slumber disappeared. For some reason, he missed its warmth.

"It's past midday, sir," said Sam and teasingly pulled his covers down to his waist. "Thought you might like to get up."

"Hey!" Jack flung out an arm, groped around and wrenched them back up to his neck, recovering his bare back. That was funny… he distinctly remembered wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt last night. For a split second, panic froze his mind—before he squinted out from the hideout of the pillow to see Carter fully dressed, and he realised that he himself was at least still clad in boxers. Huh, must have been too hot, that's all. "I hope you're not trying to take advantage of me here, Carter!"

"As if I would sir," she smiled. Sir? Some recollection of the previous night returned to him. He frowned slightly, although maybe that was from the pounding of his head.

"Hey," he mumbled, "what happened to informality?"

For a split second there was a pause. He was about to peek out and glimpse her when she said, sounding amused, "Just testing to see how much you remember from last night, Jack."

"Oh, I remember." Yup, he remembered the feeling when she had first called him 'Jack', all right. And had Daniel really dared them to kiss? Son of a…!

Jack turned over again and opened his eyes to blurred vision. The curtains were open and the bright light blinded his pupils. Rubbing them, he groaned again… and then looked up as his nostrils detected… coffee?

"My wonderful Samantha Carter," he said in a worshipping tone. "You didn't?"

Her smile widened as she stepped back from the bed and pointed to the windowsill, on which a large steaming mug of coffee awaited.

"Yeah, I did," she told him calmly. "But I'm afraid you're gonna have to get up for it, first."

He turned a pleading gaze upon her but she merely grinned and walked out, saying, "Breakfast's in ten. If you hurry, you can beat Daniel to your shower."

Talk about effective prompting. At that Jack crawled out of bed, rubbed his face, and made for the coffee. Like a blind man directed to a noise, he mused, taking the first glorious, hot sip. Then he called loudly, "I hope it's not you making it, Carter—I don't wanna have to rebuild this cabin if it burns down."

There was no answer to that, so he presumed she hadn't heard him. After gulping down half of his coffee Jack went into the bathroom to get showered. He entered the kitchen ten minutes' later to find Teal'c sitting alone and reading one of Jack's astronomy books, legs propped up and feet crossed on an opposite chair.

Jack collapsed into a spare seat. He buried his face in his arms. "T," he murmured, groaning, "be thankful you didn't become a drinker after you lost junior."

Looking up from the page, Teal'c quite smugly said, "Colonel Carter instructed me to speak the words 'good morning, sleepyhead' upon your entrance, O'Neill." The jaffa began to read again. "And I am indeed thankful I do not consume alcoholic substances."

"Where is she?" slurred Jack tiredly.

"I believe she is attempting for the second time to rouse Daniel Jackson."

"Ah." Sitting up, Jack ran a hand through his damp grey hair. "So, who's making breakfast?"

Right on cue the toaster jerked noisily and two slices popped up. For a sleepy and incredulous second, Jack stared. Then he scowled at Teal'c.

"Toast?" he said in disbelief.

"Indeed."

"I was hoping for something a little more interesting, seeing as though I was bribed out of bed by the very idea of breakfast."

"Clearly your idea was wrong," observed Teal'c as Sam walked in.

"Sorry, sir, but we kind of only picked up the essentials on the way here yesterday. So unless you want to starve for the rest of the week, we'll need to go shopping later."

This informality thing was harder than he'd anticipated.

Waving a dismissive hand, he said, "I'll take one of you to the store later." His knuckles flopped back onto the table with hard impact. "Ow."

"Besides," Sam began conversationally, "you have no confidence in my abilities anyway. No confidence, no product."

"Oh, I have every confidence in your abilities." With a supporting hand clamped to his forehead he sat up. "You have saved our lives before now, Sam." Smiling inwardly, because he knew she was glowering at his genuine praise, he added with a poker-face, "And then I have to suffer your ability to make me swoon every single day."

Sam dropped her knife with a clatter, smearing jelly over the counter, and Teal'c glanced up from Jack's book to raise his classic eyebrow; whereas Jack merely smiled easily.

"Kidding," he teased, but was in truth fully aware by the flush of Sam's cheeks that she knew the slight truth to his words. It was funny how well they seemed to be getting along these past couple of days. All these small jokes and hints towards their feelings for each other were distinctly easy to make, especially in front of Daniel and Teal'c—not that he enjoyed embarrassing her, or anything—and it was almost like things were out in the open now. Accepted. "The only confidence I lack," he continued lightly, "is in your cooking skills."

She plonked the plate of toast in front of him and, recovered from her embarrassment, prodded his shoulder in a physical telling-off.

"Have you ever even eaten anything I've cooked before?" she asked, mock-irritably.

Jack picked up a slice and inspected it closely. Looked okay, he decided, and took a bite. "You've actually cooked a meal successfully?" he countered, rocking back on his chair as he started to chew.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I have."

"Jeez. Talk about miracles."

"Okay, seeing as though you're unconvinced, I'll prove it." She folded her arms defiantly and he warily looked up at her face. "I'll cook you all something tonight."

Grinning, Jack nodded, before wincing again as his head gave another painful throb. With great timing Sam placed two small paracetamol capsules on the smooth surface beside his plate, as well as a glass of water, which, smiling his thanks, he gratefully took.

"How come you managed to evade the hangover this morning?" he queried curiously, after downing the tablets. "You drank just as much as I did."

Sam shrugged and sat down next to him, fingers curled around a hot mug. "I guess I'm just a woman."

"And aren't men supposed to be able to handle more than women?" he smirked, earning himself a poignant, defiant look that reminded him strongly of their first meeting.

"I'm an Air Force officer just like you are, Colonel. And just because my reproductive organs are on the inside instead of the outside, doesn't mean I can't handle whatever you can handle."

"Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman. I like women. I've just got a little problem with scientists."

"Colonel, I logged over a hundred hours in enemy airspace during the Gulf War. Is that tough enough for you? Or are we going to have to arm wrestle?"

"Yes," drawled Jack, and pulled a piece of toast apart as he recalled the memory with a sense of fondness that only ever sprang up when it concerned a member of his team, "we never did have that arm wrestle, did we?"

Not that it really mattered. They'd done everything besides. Saved the world, rescued other worlds, made allies, flown the X-302, blown up a sun, fought replicators, travelled back in time, determined deadly foods in the commissary, gone fishing… oh, well, there was one thing they hadn't done together. Very suddenly Jack coughed—Sam looked at him, strangely—but he was saved when a rather dishevelled Daniel trailed through the door and slumped heavily onto a chair.

Woah. And Jack had thought he had looked bad this morning.

Author's Note: I know I promised ship, but I had to split the chapter into two—it kind of extended itself a little bit :) —which is a good thing because it means chapter 8 will be available very soon. Please review!