I still own nothing.

This chapter was the very devil to write, but I was finally able to coax Daniel into helping me out a bit. It may have helped that neither he nor Peggy suffered any physical harm...this time. Mwah-ha-ha-ha!

Ahem

According to Google, veio is slang in Brazil for "old man" or "pal." If I can't trust Google, who can I trust?

Patience had fully deserted the field. Only the combination of Daniel's common sense and training held full-blown panic from claiming complete victory. This was not a time to make rash decisions without considering all of the angles. He had plenty of time to examine his options. Oh, yeah, HE had time. The question was: did Peggy?

The room situated above a filthy, raucous boteco had room enough for a narrow cot – complete with a mattress that was thinner than a sheet of paper – and the rickety table with its two cheap wooden chairs. What the space did not have, unfortunately, was enough room for Sousa to pace. He had to be content with sitting at the table, drumming his fingers on its scarred surface and allowing his good leg to jiggle with nerves.

Carter was now 36 hours late.

The knock on the door had Daniel on his feet, reaching for his crutch and gun simultaneously. Limping over to the door, eased his back against the wall and opened the door a crack. Seeing his guest, he opened the door wider, allowing the man access to the room. "Silva," Daniel acknowledged. The man was unaccompanied and Daniel sighed as he returned to his seat. "No news, then?" He asked wearily.

"Ah, I have news. Thompson is looking for you, veio." Before Sousa could protest, Silva raised a calming hand to stop the flow of words. "That is what my contacts tell me. He has not yet found me, thus he has not yet found you."

Daniel relaxed slightly, bowing his head to stare moodily at the floor. What a mess this all was. "Thank you, Silva. I owe you." When the chief did locate him, Sousa would find himself under orders to get on a plane and back to the States with the information and evidence he and Carter had collected during their week in Rio de Janeiro. Never mind that the biggest prize – and Carter's portion of the mission – were still outstanding.

"But that is not all the news I have." There was a smile in Silva's voice that had Daniel's head whipping back up to meet his twinkling brown eyes. "At approximately nineteen hundred hours, a fire broke out at Cardoso's compound. It was very, very unfortunate, how the fire spread to a cache of explosives. There was very little loss of life, but Cardoso's operation was completely leveled." Now Silva did grin. "I wonder whose carelessness started the blaze."

"Carter," Daniel breathed. That woman was Houdini reincarnated, and by this time, Sousa should be accustomed to her performing miracles. The reprieve still made him lightheaded. Looking at his watch, he shot up from the chair. "That was almost four hours ago. We gotta go find her."

"No, no, veio. Think. What makes more sense? You had an agreement: complete your missions and meet back at the rendezvous point. There is 10 miles of mountainous terrain between you and the compound. It is dark, and she may be avoiding the road. Where will you be most easily found? Searching in the dark or here, as you promised."

Silva was right, damn it. Daniel had to stay, had to patiently wait for his erstwhile partner to reappear.

If Daniel knew nothing else, he knew that his first ulcer would be named in her honor: Peggy Pain-In-The-Ass Carter.

"I suggest that you try to sleep. She may need you to be at your best when she does show up."

"I can't imagine being able to sleep. I'd rather wait," Daniel didn't have a chance to finish this thought.

"I will wait," Silva insisted. "And I will wake you when she does arrive."

Sousa nodded and shuffled over to the bed. He hadn't realized how the waiting had exhausted him. As soon as he was horizontal, his eyes closed and he drifted off. Occasionally, Silva would shift in his chair or would turn a page in his book and Daniel's tired mind would catalogue the sound, reassuring him that he was not yet needed. He slept.

At one point, the end of the cot seemed to sag. It was a sensation he remembered from his childhood when his mother's cat would hop up onto his bed and curl up at his feet. There was sweetness and safety in that memory, and so he roused only enough to shift his feet over, making room for the feline.

A ray of early morning sunlight crept over the sill of the small window. It wasn't long before it hit his face. He recognized the warmth.

Wait.

If the sun was up, where was Peggy?

The thought jolted him awake and he sat up, bleary eyes turning to the table to find Silva.

Silva wasn't there.

"Good morning, Daniel."

Daniel turned his head to find Peggy, sitting in one of the chairs, her feet propped up at the foot of the bed. Her clothing was on the muddy side, and her feet were bare. He immediately noticed the vibrant red polish on her toes, and it made him smile.

"Good morning, Peggy." He said, striving to sound as though this was how he started every morning – with this beautiful woman sitting in his bedroom. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Why should I have? It was the middle of the night. There was nothing that needed to be done immediately. And if we're asking questions," Carter glared at him. "Why were you even here? Jack expected us back yesterday."

Daniel shrugged carelessly. "I told him that we needed a bit more time."

Carter narrowed her eyes, "And he was okay with that?"

"Hell, I don't know. I didn't ask. I told."

"And then you didn't wait around for an answer or for additional orders." Peggy guessed.

Daniel didn't bother to answer. He just smiled at her, happy and relieved to have her back.

"Clearly, I have been a terrible influence on you." Peggy scolded gently. "You used to follow orders."

"Let's just say, I felt the need to improvise."

Regretfully, Peggy removed her feet from the bed and started to put her shoes back on. Not looking at him, she said softly, "thank you for waiting for me."

"No problem. Just," he paused, eying her until she looked up enquiringly. "Next time, you get to be the one who waits."