Had she been dreaming? Was she dreaming now?

Where am I?

Chapter 2: Not Quite the Same

Sam pulled herself up to a sitting position, readjusting her skimpy sleeping garment as she did so. It was weird. Last she knew she was dressed in full combat gear, holding a P-90. Now all that stood between her and her birthday suit was a tank top and a pair of panties. This had better be good, she thought.

Standing cautiously on wobbly legs, Sam got up from the bed and made her way warily around the room. It was familiar, but not quite hers. Something was off, more than one something, in fact. This wasn't her room.

Sam walked to the dresser, catching a look at her reflection in the mirror. Okay, that isn't right, she thought. Immediately her hands reached up to smooth down her hair and, more importantly, assess its length. The hair she'd proudly grown out, now just past shoulder length, was once again styled in a short bob. She closed her eyes against the sight she knew was wrong, breathed deeply, and hoped to wake up somewhere else, but no luck. The woman looking back at her from the mirror still had short hair.

Think, Sam, she told herself. Find a newspaper, pictures, phone. Find out what's going on.

Sam picked up the robe she found at the foot of the bed. She put it on and hugged it to herself against the chill. She was fairly certain it wasn't all that cold in the house. The chill was coming from inside her. She was in trouble; they were all in very big trouble. She could feel it.

With fresh resolve, Sam opened the bedroom door and walked into the next room. Again, the furniture, the arrangement, the colors, they were almost right, but not exactly. This wasn't her house. Seeing the fireplace tucked in the cozy living room was totally unexpected. At least she found the pictures she was looking for, freely gracing the fireplace mantle and drawing her rapt attention.

The faces looking back at her were all people she knew, people she loved. There was Daniel, smiling brightly at her, formally dressed and looking a bit geeky with his larger sized glasses. Of course, her brother Mark and his wife Karen were there posed in a Christmas shot with her niece Sara. I wonder where Kyle and Adam are, she thought, missing her two older nephews. The next photo was of …Janet. She smiled to see her dear friend's face again then realized the portrait was of an older, grayer woman than she remembered. Was Janet still alive here? If so, where was she?

More carefully framed photos decorated the opposite wall. Shots of her and Mark, as adults with their father and mother, called out to her. Sam picked up the first picture and studied it closely, finally holding it to her chest. Mom, alive? Was it possible?

Still clutching the precious family photo, Sam scanned the rest of the wall for people she thought should be there. Teal'c, Vala, Cassie and of course, Jack. They were nowhere to be found. There was a framed shot of Cam though. And quite a shot it was. Sam figured prominently in the very same shot, held in a tight embrace by the man she'd known best as teammate and friend.

Oh boy, she thought. I'm in trouble and Cam's a dead man.

OoOoOo

Twenty minutes later, Sam was showered and fully dressed. Although driven to find out as much as she could about the mystery she found herself in, Sam realized she couldn't do much dressed in her underwear. Besides, getting dressed provided a good deal of valuable information about what was and wasn't so in this particular "situation".

Going through the bathroom cabinets and the bedroom closet had been revealing. Though some of the clothing was indisputably hers, other items were things she wouldn't be caught dead wearing. Who'd bought them was beyond her imagination. Flashy, revealing dresses she was embarrassed to look at, much less wear stared back at her from one section of "her" closet.

Then there was a dress uniform; notably absent were most of the medals she'd earned over the past few years, as well as her eagles. Obviously she wasn't a Colonel here; in fact if she were to believe the insignias on her uniforms, she remained a lowly Captain. At least she was military, whatever that meant here.

Once again, there was no sign of Jack. Though he'd continued to live in Washington after their clandestine marriage, he'd stayed with her in Colorado Springs as often as he could, leaving changes of clothing and other supplies for his visits. But in this house, there was nothing to say her husband even existed. What's worse, Sam couldn't find her rings. Usually worn close to her heart with her dog tags, they were nowhere to be found.

OoOoOo

We've been in these situations before, right? Sam told herself, her mind reeling with the possibilities that presented themselves. I have to find out more. There has to be a way out of wherever this is!

Before she could make plans, the phone rang. Supposedly "her" phone was ringing. Problem was she wasn't exactly sure who she was or who would be calling. Whoever it was, he was persistent. The phone kept ringing, and Sam kept stalling. Finally, she gave in. After all, what did she have to lose?

"Hello."

"Well, it took you long enough."

The voice was familiar. But … it couldn't be.

"Hey, you there kiddo?"

"Dad?"

"Who else calls you kiddo?"

Sam held the received away from her ear, looking at it, as if it were an alien device. He was dead. She'd seen him die. At least in her reality…

"Sam?"

"I'm here, Dad," she said, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Are you all right, Sam?"

"I'm fine, Dad," she lied. "Slept late, just getting up. Afraid I'm not quite awake."

"Well, that's not like you," Jacob commented. "Sure you're not sick again?"

Again? Sam thought. What now?

"No Dad, I'm not sick," she said. Then determined to changed the subject, "How are you?"

"Good," Jacob replied. "But I miss my little girl. How about a visit?"

"Sure," Sam said, feeling tears ready to fall. God, she missed him. "What are you thinking?"

"This afternoon, I'll be in town," Jacob said. "It's fundraising, you know. I'm afraid I won't be able to make it to your place. I'll send a car for you. We'll catch dinner before I have to head out."

Fundraising? What is he talking about?

"Sam…"

"Yeah, Dad," Sam said, mentally shaking herself to reply. "Okay, dinner it is."

TBC

A/N: I promised myself I'd never write an alternate universe, alternate reality, alternate anything story. Moral of that story, never say never!