Water Over Stone
Part 4 of 4

Vala woke slowly, feeling aches and pains all over, yet strangely warm and comfortable. It took a moment for her to remember where she was, and once she did, she was afraid to open her eyes and find out none of it was real. Her pillow felt real enough, though, so she carefully cracked one lid.

"Morning," Daniel smiled down at her, then jerked sharply. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Just making sure this wasn't a dream," she smiled, placing her hand back on his chest.

"Traditionally, you're supposed to pinch yourself," he griped, rubbing his wounded side.

Vala grinned. "I knew I was real; I just had to make sure you were."

In response, Daniel tilted her head up and kissed her softly at first, then a little more firmly. "That feel real enough?"

"Wonderfully," she purred, snuggling against his side again.

"Good... but I've really, really gotta go pee, so can I have my arm back?"

Reluctantly, Vala sat up, shivering at the cold air outside the fur bedding. "Hurry back," she admonished.

Giving her another quick kiss, Daniel scooted out beneath the covers and headed over to the chamber pot in the far corner. He kept his back to her while he took care of his ablutions, then shuffled back over the bed and started pulling on his clothes. "As much as I'd love to stay in bed all day..."

Vala understood. "Plenty of time to laze around when we get home," she agreed, grabbing her own discarded uniform.

After they were dressed, they sat on the mattress, one of the larger fur coverings draped over their shoulders. It surprised Vala how tactile Daniel was now, as she'd always thought him a man who valued his personal space. As a man in love—and whose love was most certainly returned—he couldn't seem to get enough. By unspoken agreement, they limited themselves to hand-holding, kissing, and a little playful teasing, aware that they could be interrupted at any minute by their Shan-wi hosts.

"Any idea how we're going to get out of here?" Vala asked at one point.

"Well, I don't think there's much chance a rescue party's going to come up here the way we did," Daniel answered, rubbing his thumb in slow circles over her knuckles. "I suppose we can try to talk them into letting us go—"

"Meaning you talk them into letting us go, while I smile a lot and pretend I understand even a little of what's being said."

"—Or we hold out until the SGC sends the Odyssey to beam us out."

"Which could take a few days," she concluded. "I don't know about you, Daniel, but I would kill for a hot shower about now."

"Coffee," he murmured.

"Chocolate," she countered, knowing neither of them could resist that. Daniel chuckled, and Vala grinned. She had made Daniel smile, made him laugh. The feeling that knowledge gave her was almost as good as chocolate.

Almost.

Without their watches, the couple had no way of knowing how much time passed, but just as their bellies began to rumble with hunger, someone came in and peered over the edge, and Daniel gave a short reply to the man's inquiry.

"Looks like we have a meeting with the bigwigs," he told her as the ladder was lowered into the pit. "No word on breakfast, though."

"Drat."

Bodies aching from the previous day's activities, they eventually climbed out of their prison and were escorted out into the chilly morning air. The sun was just beginning to come up, casting a pink glow over the mountaintop dwelling. Vala hadn't taken the time to really look at her surroundings the evening before—she was far more concerned with keeping herself upright—but she looked her fill now.

Crude, ugly, foreboding... and really quite impressive.

They were ushered up a long series of cut steps, then directed through an irregularly-shaped archway. A round courtyard lay beyond, and on the other side of it, the first actual "building" Vala had seen. Although no work of art, at least some aesthetic consideration had been made in its construction. Pillars lined the front of the building, and a multi-leveled roof capped it.

The interior of the building was lit with a dozen or more large oil lamps, both resting on the floor and suspended from the ceiling. The floor in the middle of the room was recessed in a circular shape, and a low table and several cushions lay in the middle of the ring.

"This looks familiar," she commented to Daniel, thinking back to their meeting with the Ganar elders.

"Yes, it does," he agreed, lips thinning. Vala recognized the glint in his eye as the look he got whenever he put two and two together and came up with six.

Well, something like that, anyway.

They were seated at the table, then five men—the first man being Tien—entered the room from another door. Not a word was spoken until after they were settled in the cushions opposite Daniel and Vala.

"Your presence here is problematic," began the man seated in the center of the five presumed councilmen.

Daniel's attention was torn away from his study of the building's architecture. "I assure you, we meant no harm."

"Harm?" echoed the man next to Tien. "Two score of our finest hunting cats are dead or critically injured. When our people starve for meat, will there still be 'no harm'? When our city falls to the claws of the Ganar, will there be 'no harm' then?"

He stiffened. "My people and I believed we were under attack by wild animals up until the moment your hunters began throwing stones at us. We retreated immediately... as soon as it became apparent the Ganar hadn't quite told the truth about what sort of 'dangers' were on the way."

"You would trust those beasts?" asked another councilman, even as the first speaker demanded, "On the way to where?"

Seeing Vala tense out of the corner of his eye, Daniel held up his hands placatingly. "When my team first came to this planet, we thought the only inhabitants were the Ganar."

"You are from another world?"

He nodded his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know, our little goof up on P4M-328 is starting to look better and better all the time," he muttered to Vala, knowing she'd recognize the designation. It was the planet where the team stumbled into a hostage situation and grudgingly had to pretend to be members of a terrorist faction in order to survive. It wasn't the worst of SG-1's hundreds of first contact missions, but it ranked pretty highly on the unofficial "First Contact Situations to Never Repeat" list.

"All we have to do is stay alive long enough for the Odyssey to arrive," Vala reminded him. "The others got away, so they'll head to the SGC, commandeer the ship, and fly on out here to beam us up to safety. Piece of cake, right?"

"Just as long as we do our part and stay alive," he agreed with a grimace, then switched back over to the local dialect. "I'm afraid we've all gotten off to a rather unpleasant start. My name is Daniel Jackson; this is Vala Mal Doran." Hearing her name, Vala offered up a fetching smile and casual wave. "We're explorers from a planet called Earth, and we came here through the Stargate."

"Stargate?"

"Chappa'ai?" he tried again.

"You travel the old gods' road?" Tien asked in surprise.

"Uh... yes, we do."

There was a murmur of disquiet, then the man in the center held up his hand for silence. "You should not have come here."

"Why?"

"Long ago, our people cast aside the old gods, and we believe they have forgotten us in the generations since. If you have found our world, who is to say the old gods will not find us again?"

"They won't," Daniel answered firmly. "Look, the Ganar told us this planet was once ruled by Helios, right?" At the affirming nods, he continued, "Well, Helios was defeated by another of the Goa'uld—the false gods—Ra. Ra was destroyed ten years ago, and the rest of the Goa'uld have fallen since. Only a handful of their kind remains, and their power is greatly diminished from what it once was. For most, it's all they can do to hold on to the worlds they still possess, let alone attempt to conquer new ones."

"For this, we have only your word," replied the man furthest from Tien.

"I'm afraid that's all I have to give, at the moment," Daniel sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

Tien, thankfully, decided to try to get the conversation back on track. "Councilman Huang asked a question earlier... where was it you and your people were hoping to go?"

Taking a deep breath, Daniel summarized what the Ganar had told them about the planet's history with the Goa'uld, then explained his team's interest in the abandoned mines. "If enough of that mineral remains, the people of my world may be interested in a trade agreement... food, medicine, cloth, seeds for crops, whatever's needed."

The councilman next to Tien looked interested. "What about your... rattle sticks?"

That was what the Ganar had called the P90s. "What about them?" Daniel asked, cautiously.

"Would they be considered for trade? Such mighty weapons would do well to defend our hunters and herdsman from attack."

"No." Not if he had anything to say about it. "What do you have to defend yourselves against, anyway? The Ganar? Any trade agreement between my planet and yours must include the Shan-wi and the Ganar."

Councilman Huang frowned deeply. "The Ganar are savage brutes. Why would you wish to trade with them? They have little to offer, and even less they are willing to share."

"They were willing to escort us to the mines," Daniel pointed out, "and their elders were receptive to a trade agreement." He sucked in another breath. "Actually, it would be good for both of your people if you and the Ganar can establish peaceful relations with one another."

The Shan-wi councilmen exchanged glances, mixing disbelief with confusion, disdain, and even a little hope. Huang held up a hand to forestall any comments from his fellows. "We will deliberate on this further. For now, you will remain our guests."

Hank Landry was unsure which was worse: when a team was late to return, or early. Either situation could mean bad news, and in the case of the SGC's premier team, usually meant the worst. "Open the iris," he ordered, then braced himself for all manner of mayhem.

Colonel Mitchell strode through the 'Gate, looking rather ragged, but didn't appear to be seriously injured. Behind him, trailed Colonel Carter and Teal'c, both bearing bruises and scrapes similar to their team leader's. Hank guessed Daniel and Vala would be in like condition, and waited for their arrival.

It never came. Instead, the wormhole shut down shortly behind Teal'c, and the dispassionate expressions on their faces suddenly became far more worrisome. Moving down the Control Room stairs, the general entered the 'Gate Room through one of the side doors.

"Where are Doctor Jackson and Miss Mal Doran?" he asked, coming to a stop in front of Colonel Mitchell.

"Well, we're hoping they're still alive," Mitchell answered, peeling off his field cap and scratching at a sunburned ear. "We were ambushed on our way to check out an abandoned mine, and Jackson and Vala were taken."

Hank had heard enough. "Get yourselves checked out, then meet me in the briefing room."

The team nodded their compliance, although clearly uncomfortable with the delay. Hank wasn't about to forego protocol for the sake of getting the situation report an hour earlier, and SG-1 didn't seem to be in a tremendous hurry anyway. Besides, Hank had found himself on the receiving end of a thorough tongue-lashing from Doctor Lam the last time he delayed the post-mission check-up in a non-emergency situation.

Carolyn was so much like her mother at times, it was scary.

Half an hour later, the remaining three-fifths of SG-1 had been released from the infirmary. Hank met them in the briefing room, taking in the dirty, disheveled, but determined faces. He motioned for them to sit, and began the debriefing immediately. As they recounted the team's latest misadventure, Hank couldn't help but mentally shake his head and wonder.

What was it about Daniel and Vala that made the both of them such trouble magnets? Of course, Hank had known when he accepted the command how trouble followed the legendary Doctor Jackson like a faithful—if rather destructive—puppy. In the short time that Vala had been with the SGC—first as an unwelcome "guest", and now as a member—she'd demonstrated a similarly uncanny knack for finding—or creating—trouble in the most innocuous places.

But put the two of them together, and their propensity for meeting with mayhem was greatly increased.

"What makes you think the human population will be willing to listen?" he asked when Mitchell finished explaining the plan. "From the sounds of things, they attacked the Ganar unprovoked."

"Perhaps not," argued Teal'c. "It is possible the ambush was the result of a trespass on their territory."

"Perhaps," Hank agreed, "but I still don't like how the Ganar lied about the expected dangers. If you and your team had known there was a human population, you could have been better prepared for a first contact situation."

"I think it was more a sin of omission than an outright lie," Mitchell corrected, "though that doesn't make it any better, really."

"That's why we're requesting the Odyssey provide back-up, sir," Carter chimed in. "Without an agreement between the two populations, there's no way we'll be able to get to the mine to test it, let alone set up a mining camp if it proves to be viable. If this works, we can get Daniel and Vala back without bloodshed, and possibly gain a new naquadah source in the process."

"And if it doesn't," finished Mitchell, "then we radio the Odyssey for beam-out and pluck the whole team to safety."

There were many things about this plan Hank didn't like—not the least of which was that the team could be killed before they could call for help—but they'd certainly done a lot of thinking, and the lure of naquadah was one thing the Pentagon could rarely resist.

"Very well, then. The Odyssey should reach the new colony on M0Q-X42 by late this evening. Once they get their passengers unloaded, it should take only a few hours more to reach P21-663. I suggest you get cleaned up and get some rest: you return to the planet in the morning."

Carter and Mitchell looked a little put-out by the delay, and Teal'c was his usual inscrutable self. Nevertheless, they did as they were told and headed off to get showers, food, and sleep.

Their dedication to their missing teammates couldn't make Hank any prouder.

"Well, if this is how they treat their guests, I'd hate to see what they do with prisoners," remarked Vala, glaring at what she'd just mentally dubbed the Hard Rock Hotel. This time, at least, someone had seen fit to build a fire in the bottom of the pit and leave a pile of additional fuel—something which looked suspiciously like dried dung—nearby. They'd also been left with a folding privacy screen to place around the chamber pot, simple woolen clothes like the inhabitants of the fortress wore, and—thankfully—food for breakfast.

Daniel didn't comment, unsurprisingly. He'd been off in his own little world since leaving the council chambers, no doubt puzzling over some mystery or another he hadn't seen fit to share with Vala.

"More gruel?" she mumbled around a mouthful of hardboiled egg, gesturing at the bowl Daniel had emptied probably without even tasting a bite of its contents. Not that it had had much taste to begin with, of course.

"No thanks," he answered absently, staring into his cup of water as though it held the secrets of the universe.

"How long do you think the council will take to decide?" she asked. Daniel had at least emerged from his mental meanderings long enough to share the gist of his conversation with the Shan-wi leaders.

"I don't know. Hopefully not long. I'm hoping they'll give this a chance."

Vala snatched the cup from his hands and drained it. "Why should they? From what I've seen, they have a considerable advantage over the Ganar. Those big cats, for one thing, and this fortress? No storming this castle."

"Yeah, I know, but something's been bothering me." He uncurled his legs and stood, beginning to pace the floor. "There's something that's been nagging me since... well, since before we left the Ganar village, actually. Maybe something one of the Ganar said?"

Vala shrugged and lounged back on the soft furs, stretching luxuriously. "You'll have to tell me, Daniel; I don't speak the language."

He whirled suddenly. "The language! That's it, Vala! The Ganar have their own language, so why do some of them speak the same one as the Shan-wi?"

"Know thy enemy?" she guessed.

"Possibly, but I'm thinking it goes further back than that. The Ganar waited to see if we'd attack them, but they were prepared to defend themselves if necessary. From what we've seen of the Shan-wi—well, the hunters, anyway—they attack the Ganar on sight. When—and how—would the Ganar elders have learned the Shan-wi language?"

She rolled her shoulders. "Maybe they've taken some of the Shan-wi captive."

"Maybe they used to be allies," Daniel hypothesized, eyes gleaming. "Both the Ganar and the Shan-wi claim to have thrown the Goa'uld off this planet... well, the Shan-wi said they rejected the old gods, while the Ganar said they defeated the Jaffa guards left behind by Helios. But what if they worked together to get rid of the Jaffa?"

Propping herself up on one elbow, Vala stared at the pacing anthropologist, realizing he wasn't about to let go of this mystery any time soon. "So why are they at each others' throats now?"

"I don't know," he sighed in frustration. "It's the one part of this that doesn't make a lot of sense. I'm also trying to figure out what the Shan-wi would get out of this arrangement if they do decide to give peace a chance."

"Food," Vala blurted, sitting up.

"What?"

"There were only a few pieces of vegetable in last night's stew, and other than today's pitiful pot of porridge, no grains. No fruit either day."

"They live in the mountains," Daniel mused, "so there isn't much of anywhere for growing crops. One of the councilmen said something earlier about their people relying on the hunting cats to catch their meat, so what domesticated stock they do have is reserved for milk-giving and egg-laying."

"Now that I think about it, there are considerable similarities in architecture," he continued, eyes going to the ceiling as though he could see through the rock to the council building. "These two people used to have a united culture, one which shared language and architecture. Something happened between them to split them up. The Shan-wi took refuge in the mountains, while the Ganar continued to raise crops and herd animals on the plains. Now it seems like the Ganar have the better end of the deal, though it's very likely the hunters and cats attack Ganar herds to get what they need. If that's the case—"

Vala dearly loved Daniel, but it drove her to distraction when he went off on one of his brainstorming sessions. It was one thing when he was discussing the topic with someone else, but another when he talked to himself. Rising to her feet, Vala walked over to the linguist, pulled his head down, and laid a brain-melting kiss on him.

When she finally let him go, Daniel stared dumbly down at her. "What was that about?"

"Sometimes, Daniel, you talk too much," she teased.

He rolled his eyes, though Vala could see he did so good-naturedly and not with his old exasperation. "Well, that's one way to shut me up."

"Um-hmm," she agreed cheerfully. "If I'd known it worked so well, I would have tried it a long time ago."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "You did try it a long time ago... well, kissing me, but not with the intent of shutting me up."

"Oh, yes, our first kiss aboard the Prometheus. I had hot dreams about that for months."

"So did I," he grinned sheepishly. "So, um, if you don't want to talk about the Ganar and the Shan-wi, what do you want to talk about?"

"Talking?" she sighed.

"Or we could play 'I Spy' or 'Twenty Questions' or something like that... unless you've got a better way to pass the time."

"We could have sex," Vala blurted. As soon as the usual, flippant response was past her lips, she winced and conked herself on the forehead self-consciously. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't," Daniel soothed, putting a hand at the back of her neck and hugging her to him. "Unfortunately, I don't have anything with me, and I'm not about to risk getting you pregnant."

She smiled up at him. "Oh, Daniel, there's a wonderful branch of Tau'ri science which involves the creation of some rather marvelous pharmaceuticals."

"Drugs?" he blinked.

"Did you know that every female member of the SGC who actively participates in off-world missions is given the opportunity to receive some of these fantastic medicines? There's one called... oh, depot-pro-something-or-another, which quite ensures that I'm not getting pregnant anytime soon. Unless, of course, there's an Ascended being involved again, and if that's the case, Daniel, you've definitely been holding out on—mmph!"

When he finally ended the kiss, Daniel laughed against her cheek. "Sometimes, Vala, you talk too much."

Neither of them talked for a while afterward.

Cam shifted his weight impatiently, anxious for the dialing sequence to finish and open the wormhole back to '663. General Landry had said they could return to the planet in the morning, but by Sam's calculations, 'first thing in the morning' would have had them arriving in the middle of the local night. Instead, they'd had to wait until nearly midday, which left Cam itching to go. A glance at Sam showed her anxiety, and of course Teal'c was... Teal'c.

The wormhole roared open, and he barely waited for Landry's farewell benediction before trotting up the ramp and through. The air on the other side of the 'Gate was just as cold as he remembered, and he immediately set about protecting his face from the chill. Moments later, the 'Gate shut down, and he turned to face the remaining two members of SG-1, plus SG-3 and Doctor Smith.

Cam toggled his radio. "Odyssey, this is Colonel Mitchell, do you read?"

"Loud and clear," came the reply from Colonel Davidson, the ship's commander. "Your transponders are also showing up clearly on our sensors."

"What about Jackson and Vala?"

"Affirmative. We have both their signals just a few klicks from your location." There was a pause. "I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that we saw movement from them last night: they were heading your direction."

Cam swapped looks of relief with Sam. "Well, let's hope that's good news," he answered Davidson. "While we're at it, let's hope we don't have to call you boys for a quick pick-up later. Mitchell out."

"You think Doctor Jackson and Miss Mal Doran managed to get away?" Reynolds asked.

"It's possible," he replied, rolling his shoulders. "Let's move out."

They made good time getting back to the Ganar village, and Cam quickly introduced the elders to Doctor Smith, the diplomat sent along to help with the formation of a peace agreement between the Ganar and the human inhabitants. Calvin Smith was one of the first IOA attachés Cam actually liked, and that was mainly because Smith had admitted his interest in Chinese language and culture had come from a childhood love of cheesy Kung Fu movies.

That—and the fact that Jackson had hailed him as an old friend from college—had put him in the good books of many members of the SGC.

Smith picked up the Ganar dialect fairly quickly, then began asking questions he deemed necessary to establish the terms of the agreement. For the most part, Cam stayed out of it, but he could see the elders beginning to get a little impatient with all the questions. Sure, it was fascinating to know that the average Ganar could live for roughly three hundred years, but what did that have to do with the treaty?

"Smith, do you have enough to get started or not?" he asked in exasperation, after Norraul shot him a look of annoyance.

"For the Ganar, yes, but I still don't know what the—Shan-wi?—what their demands or needs are going to be."

"And you think you're going to get that from pestering the Ganar?"

Smith flushed. "Well, no, probably not, Colonel. But the way these people live! It's like—"

The fur-covered entrance was pulled open, and Teal'c emerged through the doorway. "Colonel Mitchell, we have a situation."

"What is it, Teal'c?"

"A large party approaches from the west. There are a number of felines leading the way."

Cam swore. "Attack party?"

"We cannot be certain at this time."

"What is the trouble?" asked Norraul, rising to his feet. The other elders rose beside him.

"Looks like a big group of Shan-wi are heading this way," Cam answered. Then, to Teal'c, he asked, "How long before they get here?"

"Perhaps an hour, maybe less. Colonel Reynolds and his team are attempting to conceal—"

Their radios crackled. Cam waited, but when he heard nothing more, he squeezed the push-to-talk. "Reynolds, say again."

"That wasn't me, Mitchell," Reynolds responded immediately.

"Wasn't me, either," answered Sam.

The radio crackled again. "...son to Mit... Sam? Teal'c?"

Cam could have leapt for joy. "Jackson, is that you?"

"Mitch... your voice! Vala …ming in, so don't shoot."

"Say again, Jackson, we didn't catch all that."

"I said, Vala and I are in that big group coming in, so don't shoot."

Sam's voice floated over the radio. "Are you two all right?"

"We're fine, Samantha," answered Vala. "Daniel has these boys practically eating out of his hands, and we're hoping the Ganar will be interested in hearing what they have to say."

Cam laughed. "Well that's real funny, 'cause we'd just finished convincing the Ganar to see about having a little friendly chat with the Shan-wi."

"Really?" Jackson asked. "That's, uh, that's really good." There was a long pause. "Actually, the Shan-wi want to know if you'd be willing to meet us half-way. They're putting a lot of trust in me and Vala, but I think they'd feel better if we met on more neutral ground."

"Jackson, you've managed to bring the mountain to Mohammed... I think I can get the Ganar to meet you out on the plain."

Shaking his head, Cam turned to the waiting elders and began to explain.

"Basically, sir, we're getting our cake and eating it, too," Cameron concluded.

Vala beamed with pride, not because she had had much of anything to do with the negotiations, but her Daniel had. She figured she was justified in basking in his job well-done. It wasn't as though Daniel was going to do it himself.

"Well, there's still a lot of work to be done," Daniel corrected. "The Ganar elders were children when Helios was overthrown, and while they remember being allied with the Shan-wi, it's going to take some time before they'll trust them again. It's been several generations for the Shan-wi, though, and no one's quite sure when they broke with the Ganar or why. Both sides have nearly three hundred years of mistrust to overcome before we can count this treaty as a rousing success."

"Still, the Odyssey's scans detected sizeable deposits of trinium in the vicinity of the mine," chimed in Samantha. "If the treaty goes through as expected, then we just might have found ourselves a new trinium source."

Landry gave a small smile of amusement. "We'll leave that up to Doctor Smith and SG-9. Colonel Mitchell, Doctor Jackson, excellent work."

"Thank you, sir!" Cameron exclaimed brightly.

"Thank you, General," added Daniel, looking a little uncomfortable with the praise.

Vala decided she liked the way embarrassment looked on Daniel. He'd been especially adorable after the Shan-wi councilmen had entered the Hard Rock Hotel and caught the two of them making out in their little fur love-nest. Daniel had been mortified, but the councilmen had been relieved: apparently, catching their captives in such a compromising situation had convinced them Daniel and Vala were human, dispelling their previously-unvoiced fears that they were Goa'uld.

After the blush had faded a few kilowatts, Daniel had been able to present his hypothesis regarding the former state of affairs between the Ganar and the Shan-wi. He'd then promised—aka "lied through his teeth"—that the Ganar were just as interested in ending the conflict between their two peoples. Discovering that the rest of SG-1 had been working the Ganar side of the equation had been a stroke of luck—or maybe just excellent teamwork—and left the Shan-wi with the impression that Daniel was a miracle worker.

"You all look like you could use some rest," Landry continued. "Doctor Lam assures me none of you have any serious injuries—" he gave both Daniel and Vala a deliberate stare "—so I'm putting you all on stand-down for a week. Dismissed."

As soon as the office door closed behind Landry, Teal'c turned to face Daniel. "I believe congratulations are in order."

"What?" Daniel coughed.

Vala laughed and threaded her fingers through Daniel's. "Come on, Daniel, Muscles can read you like a book."

"It's all the smiling you've been doing in the last few hours," Samantha explained.

Daniel rolled his eyes, but gave Vala's hand a squeeze. "Well, Mitchell, be sure and let us know if you think Vala and I are compromising the team in any way."

Across the table, Samantha grinned broadly and elbowed the gaping Colonel Mitchell. "Pay up, Cam."

"Damn it," Cameron swore, digging in a pocket and drawing out a wadded up bill. "You just cost me twenty bucks, Jackson... is that compromising enough?" The rest of the team laughed. "Oh, and I'm glad for the both of you, too."

"Me too," Samantha smiled, shoving her winnings in her pocket.

Teal'c bowed. "As am I." Rising gracefully, the Jaffa began to leave the room, but then turned back and stared directly at Vala. "I believe you now have your answer, Vala Mal Doran."

"What answer?" Daniel muttered.

"I'll tell you later," she promised, knowing she had plenty of time. After all, she and Daniel were apparently starting their second life together.

Epilogue

He was sure they were a sight to see: both of them sported sunburns, bruises, and cuts; Vala's sleeveless blouse showed off the rope burns on her wrists; and Daniel's glasses seemed to emphasize his spectacular black eye. On seeing Vala's wounds, the waiter's hands curled into fists, ready to challenge the apparent abuser across the table. The look of anger faded to astonishment when he then took in Daniel's less-than-pristine condition and the devil-may-care smiles on both their faces.

As luck would have it, it was the same waiter who'd taken their drink orders the last time they were here. "Still have those passion fruit martinis?" Vala asked hopefully.

Later, they'd steal bites from each other's entrées, share dessert, and argue over who had the privilege of paying since they both had lost the bet. Or maybe they'd both won. In the end, Daniel would win that particular battle, but Vala would get to pay for their movie tickets, popcorn, and sodas.

One thing Daniel was adamant about was that Vala was not to head to the ladies' room without him as an escort, as he didn't want her to get kidnapped again and spoil the whole evening. He had plans that went beyond dinner and a movie, and he was pretty certain Vala would like what he had in mind. In the morning, he'd give her a key to his apartment, ask her to move in with him, and refuse to take 'no' for an answer.

He could be pretty stubborn, too.

Author's Notes:
Thaaaaaaat's all folks!