It wasn't until Daniel was sat in his office writing his report, consulting the textbooks he'd insisted he needed to be paid for by the SGC's budget to supplement his already impressive collection, that he realised the true significance of the events of the team's mission to Simarka.

He triple and quadruple checked the references, the furrow in his brow growing deeper as every textbook and online resource he consulted confirmed the theory he'd developed as being fact. Though there were some differences between the Mongols of Earth and the Shavadai tribes of P3x593, the similarities between the Mongol's history and the Shavadai's present were uncanny.

Trade between tribes was what kept their communities strong, and trading women as property was common. A leader of the tribe could have many, many wives, as could any male member of his tribe with the blessing of the tribe leader. Women of the Shavadai, Daniel knew, had little to no rights, and while he'd been as frustrated by that as Sam had been, he hadn't been in any position to change it.

Unlike Sam, he reflected, though how long the change would last, he wasn't sure.

And that brought his mind back to his unfortunate discovery.

At first, he wondered if he should just pretend he hadn't realised. Ignorance was bliss, or so it was said. But his conscience wouldn't let him, and he sought out Teal'c to find out if the Jaffa's interpretation matched his own.

Teal'c, a man of many words, simply read the textbook Daniel gave him, handed it back with a 'I concur, Daniel Jackson' and went back to his quarters to meditate.

Left alone in the hallway, an internal debate waged within him.

Should he tell Jack first?

Sam?

Neither?

There was a reason the term 'shoot the messenger' had been carried on through the years and Daniel didn't particularly want to find out if it would be true at the SGC.

It might've made him a coward, but Daniel decided to take the easier route. Or what he thought was the easier route.

He took his report and his textbook and went to see General Hammond.

#

All he'd wanted was one last assignment where he could make a difference before finally hanging up the dress blues and retiring.

He hadn't thought for one moment that Stargate Command would be a quiet base to oversee; he'd known from his first briefing that taking over from General West wasn't going to be a piece of cake, especially not when it became very evident very fast that the threat of an alien invasion was very, very possible.

Aliens, George thought, he had prepared for. As unbelievable as it would have been to him a year, six months before, he'd come to accept it as part and parcel of his last assignment.

Two officers on his flagship team, one of whom he'd recently decided to make his Second in Command of the whole damn base, unknowingly getting married off world was not a problem he thought he'd had.

The only comfort he could take from the situation was that, given the outrage on both of their faces as he told them of Doctor Jackson's findings, was that they, too, were as shocked as he was.

Shocked, yes, but George did his best to ignore the speculative look Colonel O'Neill shot the young Captain with a glimmer of interest and the answering blush that began to rise up Captain Carter's neck.

"Are you sure that's right, Sir? Married? Us?" Jack motioned between the two of them, though they were the only others in the office, George himself notwithstanding. "Daniel could've got something lost in translation, y'know."

"I've read your reports, and the supplementary information provided by Doctor Jackson. There is no mistake, Colonel. When you traded your service weapon for Captain Carter, you effectively traded the gun for one of Turghan wives, thus making her your wife." And didn't the thought of that give him a headache. Or at least the thought of the paperwork he was going to have to fill out–once it'd been created, of course.

"But I wasn't one of Turghan's wives," Sam protested weakly. At the stony look George through her way, she dropped her gaze. "Well, he'd said to Abu he was thinking about it, and then I was sent to be with his other wives but his daughter was there, too."

"I think it's reasonable to presume you were there as a wife, and not as a daughter, Captain," George found himself saying wryly. "Besides, you were clearly considered to be property of Turghan, and then you became the property of Colonel O'Neill when he traded the gun for you. The closest interpretation is that the act of trade symbolises the act of marriage, therefore you are married. For now," he added when both Jack and Sam looked like they were about to protest. "Of course we will get the marriage annulled. I assume that is what you both want?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Of course, Sir."

He told himself it wasn't interesting in the slightest that the two officers suddenly had difficulty looking at one another.

#

Married.

Married to Colonel O'Neill.

ARGH!

Okay, so the idea wasn't entirely repulsive–he was an attractive man, one of the more attractive men on base, but he was her superior officer, her commanding officer, and IT WAS AGAINST REGULATIONS.

Not to mention the fact he'd BOUGHT her hand in marriage, TRADED a bloody GUN for it.

Unintentionally at that!

Putting aside her conflicted feelings regarding her Commanding Officer, Sam couldn't get over the thought that'd she'd been considered worthless. Nothing. Less than nothing. She'd been a thing, something to own and be given away at will, stripped of any value.

Stripped of any worth, of any rights.

And that... that was humiliating. Frustrating. Hurtful.

Oh, she didn't think there was anyone on the base who thought there was any merit in the Shavadai way of life, but it was still hurtful that her teammates had done their best to encourage her to go along with it–an act that had led with her being abducted and traded - twice–for crying out loud. And it was humiliating that no doubt the whole base would be talking about it–the concept of classified was only valid when it came to speaking about the project outside of the hallowed walls of the SGC but inside, gossip wasn't just confined to the water cooler. It was a coping mechanism of sorts, a way of normalising the craziness of every day life at the SGC. If you didn't laugh about it, you'd cry, and that was exactly what Sam felt like doing.

She'd shut herself in her lab after the awkward meeting with General Hammond, and the promise that she'd sign whatever paperwork she needed to get their accidental marriage annulled ASAP.

Married.

Her.

The closest she'd got before was an ill-fated, ill-thought out engagement to -

"Well, well, well."

- Jonas.

"I didn't think you were the type to sleep your way up the ranks, Sam," Captain Jonas Hanson smirked at her from the doorway of her lab. "Turns out I was wrong about that, huh?"

"Jonas." She sighed his name, closing her eyes for a moment as she wished–prayed–that he'd just disappear. His assignment to the SGC had been approved while she'd been on Simarka and it had been a very unpleasant surprise to find her ex on base as the new commanding officer of the newly formed SG-9.

"Really, Sam? Is this your new game plan?" His smirk grew and he leaned against the doorway. "You really think you have to sleep your way to the top?" He tilted his head to one side. "Is that why you dumped me?"

"Go away, Jonas." Take the moral high road, Sam, she told herself firmly.

"Aw, but Sammie..." Jonas pushed off the door frame and headed further into the lab instead of going away. "Don't you want to talk options? I mean, Colonel O'Neill was a good choice, but he's not your only choice. I'm team leader now, too. SG-9," he added, as if she didn't know. "If you want to go up in the world..."

"I don't. And I don't like the way this conversation is going, Jonas, so I'd really like it if you'd just go now." She bit her lip against adding please; she would never, as long as she lived, beg him for anything every again.

For a moment, she thought he'd protest.

For a moment, she thought he thought he would, too.

But then her commanding officer–her husband - arrived, and Jonas thankfully decided there were other places he needed to be.

A short, awkward conversation later–the Colonel just wanted to check she was okay, what with the fighting for her life and then finding out she was married thing–and Sam was left alone once more.

Only... there was a smile on her face.

A smile she knew shouldn't be there.

As far as would-be accidental husbands were concerned, she was sure she could have done worse than Colonel O'Neill.