Captain Carter turned off the lights in her lab as she exited it, her laptop bag and coat in tow. It was 1900 and she was calling it a night. There was no way she was pulling a graveyard shift tonight; she was way too exhausted to begin with, and then there was the mission the next day. She paused thoughtfully with a frown – Colonel O'Neill would let her go on this one, right? Perhaps she should stop by his office to make sure…

…Nah. Carter shook her head. Her own bed in her own home sounded very good, despite the inevitable nightmares that were to come. The first few moments as she fell asleep would be wonderful…

Captain Carter sighed and continued the walk to the elevator. "So much for sanity," she mumbled, thinking about her life; Hansen, nightmares, the Stargate – not to mention the dangerous situations they found themselves in every other DAY. She must be insane. Crazy. Nuts. Wacko!

The elevator doors opened to reveal Jonas Hansen.

Holy crap! She jumped and scooted back a full five feet from the elevator. Just try to come out, Hansen, she thought fearfully as she trembled. I might not be able to fight you, but I can sure as hell run and I can SCREAM. And you know I have one hell of a set of lung, too. Those SFs will be on you like a pack of wolves.

Hansen's lips turned up in a smirk as he leaned lazily against the rail on the elevator. "Samantha, Samantha, Samantha," he said, "not getting in the elevator? I'm hurt."

Please close, please close, please close… Carter begged at the elevator doors. Close and take him all the way down to hell. Heh. "Hellevator". Nice ring to it. One-way ticket for Jonas Hansen, please.

Just as the elevator doors started to close, he strolled through, seemingly nonchalant. Carter didn't stick around to find out if he was his violent self today; she turned and bolted down the hallways, hearing him swear and speed up to catch her. Her grin trembled. If there was one thing he couldn't do, it was catch her. She was one deadly runner. She could outrun him day or night, rain or shine, hail or snow.

The fates had sweet mercy on her, for as she neared the end of the hallways, she got to the elevator at the other end just as Siler and some other people were walking in. "Hold it for me!" she shouted, her "OR ELSE!" voice mixing with terror.

Siler and another man held the doors and she skidded in, slapping the button that would take her topside. She nodded to them and they released the doors. Hansen's face was just a line in the doorway when he shouted, "Hold 'em!"

"Don't!" Carter ordered. She paused, then added, a genuine smile – though shaky – on her face, "Thanks." She squeezed Siler's forearm, and the forearm of…Sergeant Ernie Huh.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Siler asked, concerned.

The rumor mill must be saying I'm crazy, insane, that I can't handle the pressure. That I'm a weak, silly female who thinks she can handle everything the SGC runs into. That –

"Yes. I'm okay."

Liar, liar, her conscience once again taunted.

At home, she went to work unpacking more boxes. As the hours clicked on, so did the lights. When it was dark out, her entire house was lit. Music poured through the house, music that she sang to and danced to as she placed items on shelves and shoved unneeded boxes in closets. It was 2100 when she was finally sleepy enough to sleep. She changed into her Piglet pj bottoms and her Snoopy tee-shirt.

As Carter crawled into bed, she noticed the open window. Huh? She didn't remembering opening…

Uh-oh.

"Hey Sammie."

Carter turned slowly and screamed as he advanced on her, ripping and tearing at her nightclothes and trailing vicious, burning kisses and bites all over her before he –

"Ah!" Carter yelped, squealing. Her body, sheets and clothes were soaked with sweat. The window was, indeed, open, but Hansen was not there. She was fully clothed and didn't smell sex on her. The clock read, as always, 0220.

"Well, that was a slightly different nightmare," she said aloud, her voice stuttering shakily. That was the first nightmare she'd had that took place in her new home. What next, a nightmare of Hansen raping her in her lab, in the gateroom, off-world!

She paused a moment, looking at the phone on her nightstand. To call or not to call, THAT is the question! she thought. Her eyes darted to every corner of the room again, just to make sure. Actually, she should check her whole house, just to make sure. Where was her gun? Or maybe she should start keeping pointy thingys in her nightstand for this very purpose.

Taking her gun, she cautiously moved through her lighted house, sneaking up on every invisible Hansen she could find. Real Hansens? She found none, thankfully. With that knowledge, she made her way back to her room, somewhat reassured.

She was about to attempt sleep again (miracles were real, right?) when her phone rang. Huh? Instantly she was bombarded by the image of the phone ringing, her answering, hearing Hansen, and screaming as he charged in the room, throwing his cell down and reaching for his belt.

When the intense moment subsided several seconds later, she realized the phone was still ringing. "I'm being ridiculous," she muttered as she snatched the phone off the cradle. "Hello?" she said cautiously, braced to hear Hansen's voice even though it was, as she'd already deemed it, ridiculous.

"Didn't I tell you to call me?" demanded a very…tired and sarcastic Colonel.

"Sir?" Captain Carter said incredulously, tiredness etched in her voice. "What's going on?"

"I knew you wouldn't call me so I set my alarm clock to 0220. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate my orders being ignored?"

Pause. "You never made it an order, sir," she said grumpily, "and sir, respectfully, you're your information, I was going to call you!" Liar, liar.

"Ah-huh. Sure."

Damn. "Okay, I was thinking about calling."

"Carter, it's 0235. How long do you need to think about calling someone before you call?"

Carter blushed vividly. "Well, I – I was – you see, I was just…"

Colonel O'Neill's voice was softer, now. "You were what, Carter?"

She gulped and said, "Iwascheckingmyhousetomakesureheisn'there," and squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to hear his mocking laughter.

No laughter. "I understand. The same nightmare?"

Captain Carter shuddered. "No…"

There was hesitation on the line again. "Do…d'you want to tell about it?"

"Erm…uh, sure. I guess. It was different…I felt like I was replaying my entire evening, but when I slipped under the covers for bed, I noticed my window open. In the dream, I didn't open it, and behind my I heard him say, 'Hey Sammie'…and when I turned around…" she stopped, pressing the mouthpiece to her neck so he couldn't hear her shuddering breaths or the whimpering that threatened tears. Those tears pricked at her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall, as though somehow her CO would know she was crying.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Umm…hey, did ya watch the game?" he asked lightly.

"Football?"

He mocked-gasped, "Carter! Sacrilege! It's not even football season!"

"Oh." She blushed more deeply. "Well, what game were you talking about, then? Sir."

"Hockey, Carter. Hockey. And drop the sir."

"Sir?" Carter asked, puzzled.

"Carter, I'm on the phone with you at…0239, talking about hockey. Do the tags really matter?"

She fingered the dog-tags around her neck. She'd gotten to a point where she just never took them off anymore. "Erm…yes and no. No as in not really and yes as in it's a habit – sir. Erm…"

There was another lapse of silence. "I saw Hansen again today," she said quietly.

"What happened?" there was a lot of concern and a tint of anger in his voice.

"I ran through the halls like a…like some coward and he chased me. I got to the other elevator before he did and got away."

"The asshole chased you?"

Carter smirked. "Yeah. I…I can't fight him, but I sure as hell can outrun him, sir."

"And to think I thought you crazy for getting up an extra hour early to run every morning."

"You thought I was crazy, sir!" She was a little offended and slightly hurt. What else did he think of her? Had she no one's respect anymore? "This was a bad idea, sir," she said hastily before he could reply. "Goodnight, sir. I'll see you tomorrow."

She hung up, and ignored his consecutive calls. Four…five…six…he stopped after six. She lay there, allowing tears to flow freely now. Wasn't it enough that she had to deal with that abusive bastard? Did she have to lose the respect of everyone else around her as well?