AN: Okay, this chapter is a little shorter . . . All right, a lot shorter. It's about half as long as the previous, but, hey, give a workin' girl a break . . . And not that kind of workin' girl. I mean the kind that has to pay for college and work in a grocery store overnights for minimum wage. Grr.

Chapter Five:

Sam is jolted awake by the ringing of her telephone. With a groan, she flicks on her bedside light, squinting as it stings her eyes.

Picking up the offending object, she brings it to her ear and mutters, "Yea?"

"Sam!"

The shout causes the major to wince and hold the phone away from her face for a moment.

"Janet?" She asks, warily placing the phone back against her ear.

"Sam! It's gone! The ring is gone!"

The major sits up in her bed, adrenaline causing her tiredness to disappear.

"What do you mean gone?"

"I mean gone! I-I put it on my dresser last night, and now it's not there! God, Sam, what am I gonna do? Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"Janet, calm down," Sam tries to soothe the flustered woman on the other end of the telephone. "Are you sure you've looked everywhere? Did you ask Cassie?"

"Yes," Janet moans in agony. "She said she never touched it."

"Well, ask her again. I'll be right over. We'll . . . search the whole house, I guess," Sam sighs, running her hand through her hair.

"Oh God, thank you, Sam," Janet breathes in a sob. "Thank you so much."

"I'll see you in a minute," Sam replies before hanging up the phone. Standing, she slips into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and heads out the door.

"Oh boy," she breathes tiredly as she starts her car.

0 o 0 o 0

Jack waits quietly as the phone on the other end rings until a soft voice answers.

"Kaara," he says with an attempted smile. "How is everything?"

The colonel watches Daniel sleep from outside the guest room door, the steady rhythm of his chest almost hypnotizing. Up and down. Up and down.

"No, nothing's wrong," he continues. "Daniel just . . . didn't feel well. He's gonna crash here tonight."

The archaeologist had consumed at least seven beers and had sat through two hockey games. He had not wanted to go back to his apartment drunk. Kaara would know something was wrong and would eventually wheedle it out of him.

"No, you don't have to come over. He'll be fine. Just . . . a screwy mission is all," Jack explains. "Don't worry about him. I'll have him home by noon tomorrow."

No doubt there would be a large hangover to get rid of using Granny O'Neill's Special Brew For Puking Up What You Had The Night Before. Oh yea. Good stuff.

"See you tomorrow, Pidge. Sweet dreams."

Jack turns the phone off and leans against the door frame.

"Damn it, Spacemonkey," he sighs. "You've gotta tell her sometime."

0 o 0 o 0

Something is wrong. Something is most definitely wrong.

Jack had said they had had a 'screwy mission.' That means beer. But he had also said that Daniel would be staying at his place for the night. And that means that the archaeologist is either injured . . . or drunk off his ass.

Kaara guesses the latter option, as Jack hadn't had an overly worried tone.

With a sigh, she heads towards the bedroom to spend, yet another, night without her boyfriend and, hopefully, future fiancé.

She desperately wishes she knew what is wrong with him.

"Come home, Danny," she whispers. "I need you . . . even if you don't think so."

AN: Questions? Comments? Vague disregard for any or all words written and established in the mind of one who has no sanity?

Aw, poor Kaara. Well, I'm off to another overnight shift at the job known as hell. Ugh. I'll see you guys around. Later, Gators! Catch you on the flip side.