Once they were back at the hotel, it seemed like nothing could bring Rodney down from his euphoric high, no matter how many times Sam tried to explain that it had been a mistake.

An accident.

She thought that on some level, he must've understood that, surely he must have--but he just glowed so horribly bright as he escorted her through the hotel lobby, it made her heart ache with regret.

She led him on.

She shouldn't have.

He was so happy.

God, she was going to hell for this. No limbo, no purgatory, no lines, no waiting--just straight to hell.

Still, the smallest, most ignorable part of her whispered, it's nice for someone to have eyes for me...and only me.

She couldn't help but suspect that maybe he expected more from her. Sure, he was all jokes and smiles, but something about all his jokes seemed a little bit too close to the truth. As though he couldn't say it in a serious way--but needed to get it out in the open none-the-less--so he opted for the 'I'll pretend I'm joking" route.

She couldn't avoid the minor amount of frustration with the male of the species at large for their inability to deal with emotions openly and earnestly that surged up inside her, but she did her best to ignore it.

Sure, it was frustrating, but the last thing she wanted was to make things worse by forcing him to confront his feelings. She did not need Rodney McKay on bended knee, proclaiming his hopeless, unrequited and undying love for her…

Even though she knew how absurd that particular mental image was, she still didn't want to hurt him.

She was starting to wish she'd never called him. All she did was complicate what should have been a simple cut and dried scenario.

If she had entered this with pure intentions, and not those that revolved around jealousy and intrigues, maybe she wouldn't feel like such a piece of crap; but as it was, she just felt like a master manipulator who'd gotten away with the biggest, most elaborate scheme in their career completely scot-free.

The trouble was, her conscience wanted her to get caught. Sam hated the way things had turned out.

He was happy; she was miserable; Jack was under the mistaken impression that she was 'with' McKay and not just in attendance with him…

And it was all her own fault.

Boy, it was times like this when "Honesty is the best policy" really proved itself to be true. This is why she never did the whole dating thing all that well…the deception that comes along with it was never something she was particularly good at.

Of course, dwelling on it wasn't going to do her any good. Rodney was escorting her regally across the hotel lobby, pulling all of her attention and focus towards the glaring problem that she herself had created.

"Rodney, you don't have to take me up to my room."

He grinned at her guilelessly as they approached the elevator and he reached out to press the button. "What sort of escort would I be if I didn't see you safely to your door?"

She sighed, trying to fight off the defeat that she felt coming. "Rodney, it's a four star hotel, not a dark alleyway. I can manage on my own. You don't have t--"

"But I want to."

I'll just bet you do…

Ding!

The elevator doors slipped to either side of the car and Rodney gestured grandly. "After you."

She tried to extract her arm from Rodney's grip without him noticing, but he seemed…rather reluctant to release her…and she didn't want to make a scene.

After all, he was only trying to see her to her room. Her guilt was what was making her uncomfortable--so she couldn't very well haul off and hit him without making herself feel worse. So she reluctantly took the two necessary steps forward into the elevator, Rodney hot on her heels.

"Eighth floor, right?" He asked, fingers skimming over the little light up buttons.

"Yeah." She made a conscious effort to look everywhere but at him as the doors slid shut in front of her face.

Rodney let her arm go and clasped his hands behind his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little and the silence stretched to an uncomfortable length as they traveled up the first four floors without stopping.

The hush was almost deafening, pressing in on her from all sides and she had to force down the urge to fidget.

She cleared her throat, venturing to shatter the emptiness of the elevator.

"I had a nice time," Sam said lamely, knowing just how stupid and juvenile it must've sounded.

"So did I," he replied brightly. "How could I not enjoy entering a society function with the loveliest woman in the room on my arm?"

"Don't push it, Rodney. We've already established that we're friends and nothing more...false flattery won't get you anywhere."

"Who said anything about false? Or flattery, for that matter? I was just stating a fact. I mean, did you see some of the women at that ball? I had to forcefully keep myself from suggesting they go to the groomer's more often."

Sam bristled. "So I was the prettiest in comparison to the rest of the kennel?"

He glared at her in response. "That isn't what I meant and you know it. Can't you just take an honest compliment from me?"

Sam's shoulders sagged marginally. She hadn't meant to snap at him…she just felt…

She felt…

She felt the elevator suddenly jerk, that's what she felt.

It jerked so violently that she grabbed onto Rodney's sleeve to steady herself. After all, high heels were hardly the best for surviving an abrupt jolt while remaining upright.

Sam glanced up at the floor indicator at the top of the elevator and found it fixed between the numbers seven and eight.

She felt it as her heart tried to sink to her shoes with realization.

They were stuck.

Just dandy.