May mornings in Massachusetts dawn bright and cold, the winter crispness not completely absent from the springtime air. Typically, that coolness would stick around until early June, bringing snow on the odd occasion, and while it might not have been all that conducive to many springtime sports, it was perfect for running. Cameron had managed to convince Daniel that a run would do him some good and the two men had set out for a couple of miles around the base.

It hadn't taken Cameron very long upon arriving at the SGC to pass judgment on the program's resident archeologist – Daniel Jackson was surprisingly awesome for a geek. They'd made fast friends in those first few months and Cameron was glad for that. He'd been worried about being the new guy, about not being liked, and both Daniel and Teal'c had proven to him that there was little to worry about beyond the whole Earth in constant jeopardy thing. He could have liked them just for that, but there was more to it.

They were both great guys.

He harbored a glance over at his running mate and thought back to a week ago when he'd met Aeda for the first time, in the hallway…

"Good morning," he said as he fell into step beside her. The ID tag hanging from the lapel of her overcoat read "visitor" but her clearance was just a step lower than his. Interesting.

She smiled. "Good morning."

"Are you looking for someone in particular?" he asked, curious about her presence.

"I am, but I know my way."

She sounded posh, polished. "Been here before, have you?"

She smiled, again. "So close to 'come here often' but much more eloquent." She didn't laugh, but he could see amusement on her face. "I used to work here," she explained.

This stopped him. She continued on and, at the corner, she turned back and waved. "Pleasure meeting you, Cameron." Then she disappeared down the hallway…

"You're going to give yourself an aneurysm, thinking that hard," Daniel said, drawing Cameron out of his thoughts.

He grinned at Daniel. "Sorry, I was thinking about Aeda."

"This is where I'm supposed to punch you in the face, right?"

Cameron laughed, which threw his breathing off, and he was forced to stop so he could get through a coughing fit. Cold air and warm lungs wasn't always a good combination. Daniel thumped him on the back a couple of times and eventually he was able to straighten up and breathe correctly.

"I was thinking about when I first met her," he said once his voice returned. "She knew who I was even though I had no clue who she was."

Daniel grinned slightly. "I had told her quite a bit about you while I was visiting her in Boston."

Cameron laughed again, this time without a coughing fit. "No wonder she looked at me like she'd seen me naked."

Daniel stared at him. "I'm really not above punching you in the face."

"It's a southern thing."

"So is fried chicken and I can't say as though I'm a huge fan of that, either."

They regarded each other stoically until neither of them could take it any longer. They both burst out laughing and they laughed so hard and so long that they fell on the ground and stayed there. The hysterics passed eventually, but they remained sitting on the ground.

"From the stories I've heard," Cam started, his southern drawl a little stronger than it had been a minute or so earlier, "Aeda's giving Ba'al a run for his money."

"It's hard to outrun a G'ould, Cam," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He had literally laughed until he'd cried.

Cameron nodded. "No doubt. But think of it this way – it's pretty damn easy to kick someone's ass when you're backed into a corner."

Daniel thought about this a moment. "Any more pearls of wisdom, Confucius?"

"My grandma Lulu always used to say what doesn't put hair on our chests makes us stronger."

"Your grandma Lulu was a strange woman."

"You're telling me."

They helped each other to their feet and began the slow walk back to the barracks. It was just after seven. The SWAT team would move into position at nine and the SG teams would come in behind them at ten. They all had a morning of waiting ahead of them, with do or die looming at high noon.


Aeda was antsy. The feeling of dread that had formed in her stomach during the night had only grown and as she had showered and dressed in the clothes Maria had left for her, it had sat like a stone in her abdomen. She had tried to convince herself that it was food poisoning but it was a no-go – vegetable soup just wasn't a common salmonella inducer.

There was no denying it – she was worried.

The clothes were her own, thankfully, most likely retrieved from the suitcase she'd had with her when they'd jumped her at the airport almost two days earlier. Her hair was refusing to dry, which wasn't anything new, but it did make her wish for her hair tie. On her way back from the bathroom, she had made the mistake of asking Thug #1 if he wouldn't reconsider giving the tiny elastic back to her.

"My hair is driving me nuts," she'd explained.

He had looked at her much like she had looked at Bear when he'd eaten her favorite sandals. "We could always cut it off," he'd suggested, his face stoic.

She was fairly certain she'd actually recoiled from the suggestion. Switching to sweet and charming, she'd smiled courteously at him and had shrugged. "Actually, I'm kind of digging the wild and crazy look. Works on me, don't you think?"

He'd opened the door to her room, had shoved her inside, and had locked it behind her.

She wanted her apartment, her bedroom, her dog, and, most of all, she wanted Daniel. The night before she'd left – Monday, maybe, she couldn't really remember – he had asked her to stay an extra few days and she had desperately wanted to, but she'd already missed her exams because of the conference and she hadn't felt like burdening the proctor and her graduate assistant with grading them. Now, sitting in the same clothes she'd worn out to Colorado and pondering the future of her mundane existence, she really wished she hadn't been so thoughtful. Her grandfather had always told her that selfishness never got you anywhere and, being the young girl she'd been at the time, she'd believed him.

"Not so much now, Clyde," she said aloud, wondering if he could hear her all the way up in his heavenly recliner.

She shifted and was instantly reminded of The Plan. The corkscrew was settled uncomfortably in the front of her bandeau tank top and was being held in place by her natural graces and gravity. She was hoping that the thugs wouldn't think to search her, but there was always a chance. That was why the blade of the corkscrew was resting against her underarm, tucked into the strap of her bra.

The thought of what Daniel would say if he could see her armaments brought a smile to her face and for a split second she worried that hysterical laughter would bubble up and refuse to go away. She bit back on it and took a couple of deep breaths. The last thing she needed was to alert Thug #1 to the possibility that his prisoner was off her rocker.

Crazy can be a great ambush.

Jack had told her that when he'd taught her how to fight. She hoped he was right.

She glanced at her watch for the hundredth time in as many minutes and was somewhat disconcerted to see that time really had flown by – it was just after ten. Maria had told her to be ready by eleven. As the Twig (Aeda's own personal nickname for Ba'al's personal assistant) had left the room, Aeda had been overcome by the feeling that if Ba'al left his gal Friday alone with her for any amount of time, a good old-fashioned catfight might ensue. Not that Aeda was opposed to that, but her knuckles still hurt from her first run in with the buxom blonde. Then again, she'd seen what a shovel could do to a person and she wasn't exactly opposed to that, either.

She considered her options. There was The Plan – the grand design of sticking Ba'al in an uncomfortable place with the corkscrew and running like hell – but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if it was really something worth considering. She'd have to be awfully close and the closer she got to him, the more likely it was that he could do damage to her.

Another option was that the SGC had gone into full protective overload and a team of SWAT guys were currently staking out the meeting place, waiting for the noon meeting so they could strike and take out Ba'al while heroically saving her. It was a nice notion but a part of her didn't really want to be saved – a part of her really wanted to kick some ass. That surprised her. She wasn't a violent person – Harvard professors are not violent people, she reasoned – but something had snapped that day at the airport, something ugly, and she wanted it under control.

It wasn't a side of her she wanted Daniel to see.

So, save herself or wait to be saved – that was the question.

She'd made up her mind as the door unlocked and swung open, revealing Thug #2. "You ready?" he asked, his Boston accent thicker than the oatmeal she'd had for breakfast.

She nodded, smiled slightly. "I sure am, Reggie," she said and stood, slipping her feet into her shoes. "Beautiful day for a hostage swap, don't you think?" she asked.

He said nothing, but took her elbow in his oversized, meaty hand. She noticed this grip was a little looser than the one he'd employed two nights earlier when he'd hauled her upstairs to her "cell". She couldn't help but smile at him and though she couldn't be sure, there seemed to be the hint of a grin at the corners of Reggie's mouth.

"Ah, Reggie, you like me," she said.

A big old grizzly thug, grinning – it kind of made her day.


A/N: The more I write Aeda, the more I see myself. It's a little disconcerting...

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