Vala's eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to register where she was, but a deep breath of that still lingering musk on the pillows made her want to hug it closer. Daniel wasn't in the bed anymore, she could tell without looking. She saw the dishes had been cleared from the nightstand, even the phlegm cup, and a fresh glass of water was waiting for her. Her book was laid out next to it, a bookmark in place with where he left off reading to her. She didn't recall exactly when she fell asleep, but she did remember that he had been reading for over an hour when she snuggled down and closed her eyes. Last night had been so relaxing; cough, fever, and congestion be damned.

She never would have thought she'd feel so safe in a home that wasn't hers. Vala spent her entire life looking out for herself. Even when she was living with Tomin she slept with one eye open. It seemed there was always someone around the corner waiting to catch her when she was vulnerable. Here she didn't even have a knife in the room, much less under her pillow, but she felt relaxed and secure. She could hear Daniel in the other room, typing away, and occasionally shuffling papers. There was coffee brewing. Just knowing he was nearby made her feel at ease. He would never let anything happen to her.

She listened to him working, able to picture the scene in her head. He was sitting at the kitchen table, glasses off, squinting at the laptop screen as he typed. There were books spread out around him open and piled on top of each other. He had a pen in one hand, one held in his teeth, and probably one tucked behind his right ear. Daniel always used different ink colors to mark his research: red for outdated information, blue for making notes in the margins, and green to underline text. As he read, his left hand twitched toward the empty coffee mug reflexively reaching for it before he remembered that it was empty.

He had a strange obsession with coffee. Most Tau'ri adults seemed to, but his went beyond. The others ribbed him about it, and coffee themed gifts were common. She had tried to join in on the craze, but the bitter drink was more than she could handle. By the time she put enough cream and sugar into her cup to make it palatable, it wasn't worth the effort. Vala had confided in Sam that she didn't understand what Daniel saw in the drink.

"Daniel's been taking care of himself for a long time," Sam had explained. "When he was younger sleep got in the way of work and school. He had to keep up his grades to keep his scholarship and he had to keep his jobs so he could pay for everything else. It's not that uncommon with graduate students, really. The problem with Daniel is, he's been living like that for over twenty years and now he's a permanent workaholic. He doesn't know any better."

At that point Vala had made it her personal mission to make him lighten up. It seemed sad, living your life with your nose in a book. Even at Mitchell's team nights Daniel had a book with him and read during the movie. And it was never a fun book, either. It was work related, old books in ancient languages. So, she distracted him, coaxed him out of himself. She had a pretty good track record of getting him to laugh. She had a better track record of annoying him and getting him to snap at her. But, he always came around, apologizing and wanting to make up for it. If she was lucky, she'd get him to take her out for dinner and even a movie. He didn't read when he was having dinner with her, and he didn't read when he took her to the movies. He never even brought a book with him.

He only paid attention to her. He answered all her questions, indulged her curiosity, and he gave her that look. The one where he'd zone out and stop listening to the conversation and just stare, not at her, not through her, but somewhere in between. It was like he had moments where he saw past who she was, who she had been, and he saw who she was becoming. The person he believed she could be. Someone she never thought possible until he believed in her. Sometimes he even made her believe she was already that person.

She got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Her limbs felt stiff and heavy, yet another thing she hated about the flu. Daniel was watching for her when she came back out.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

She yawned and hugged herself. "Not bad."

"I'd suspect so. You've been out for almost seventeen hours." He got up from the table and gestured for her to sit on the couch. "I could barely get you to take your medicine this morning."

Vala looked over his books instead; they were laid out just as she suspected. "What are you working on?"

"It's, uh, it's a personal project. Nothing really." He tried to brush it off.

She spotted a handwritten page and picked it up, expecting information on Merlin or King Arthur, not a personal letter. "Danny took his first steps this morning," she read, taking a seat at the table. "I wish you had been here to see it, he was so proud of himself. He was playing on his blanket and out of nowhere got up, walked straight to mother and took a biscuit off her plate. I wish I could say his intentions were to share, but he kept his prize for himself." Vala looked up; Daniel was blushing and busying himself with arranging his pens next to his laptop. "Is this about you?" she asked.

He bit his lip before responding. "It's from a journal my mom kept when I was a baby. My dad had a research grant at the American University in Cairo when I was born. My mom and I lived with her mother in the Netherlands."

"So she wrote a journal for him," Vala finished the story. "So he would know how you were doing."

"Yeah."

"It must be nice. Knowing how much your parents cared about you. Having proof of it."

"I'm sure your parents cared about you," he tried, lamely. "Maybe they were just really bad at showing it."

"My father was a conman, he was only around when he needed money or place to hide out," Vala responded bluntly. "My mother was a good woman, when she could be. Before this, she was the only person who ever took care of me." She allowed herself to reminisce. "When I was sick she would let me sleep in her lap. She would sit up all night, holding me."

"See, she cared." He sounded so sure of himself. "It's easy to forget," he confided in her. "Sometimes I think it's easier. It makes it hurt less if you remember the times they weren't perfect."

"As though your parents weren't perfect," Vala gestured with the letter in her hand. "They adored you."

"My mom did. My dad, though? She had to write all that because he wasn't around. He was too busy working. He chose a research library over me."

"I suppose he was the type that always had a book with him?"

Daniel chuckled, caught. "I'm more like him than I'd like to be," he admitted. "But in my defense it's not like I'm putting my work above my family, my own kid."

Vala raised an eyebrow. "One could argue…"

"Have you ever heard the Earth expression about the pot and the kettle?" Daniel interrupted her.

"The one about how they are the same color but the pot thinks it's superior to the kettle anyway?"

"Yeah, that one."

"What about it?"

"You can sit around accusing me of being just like my father all you want, but all evidence points towards you being just like yours."

Vala nodded thoughtfully. "Then maybe we should both work at being more like our mothers."

Daniel agreed. "To that end, can I get you anything?"

"Some more of that tea would be lovely."

"Coming right up." He went straight for the kettle.

"My mother used to make a broth when I was sick," Vala said conversationally as she looked through Daniel's research some more. "She made it from a root that she grew in our garden. She'd get it boiling and then sit me at the table with a cloth over my head and put a bowl under my face so I could breathe in the steam."

"My mom would make me hot baths with salts and oils so I could soak in it and breathe in the steam… she was big on holistic medicine," he added at Vala's look.

"That's where you get it from," she said. "All your teas and soups when Dr. Lam can just give you a pill."

"My mom took it to an entirely different level," he admitted with a smile. "Mint for headaches, lemon juice for congestion, she had an herbal remedy for everything."

"Hot water with lemon and honey for allergies. You still do that one."

Daniel snipped some mint leaves from the little plant he had bought and got the tea ready to steep. "I bet we can make your mother's root broth. We just need to find the Earth equivalent. We've done it with a few Jaffa recipes."

Vala wrinkled her nose. "It wasn't meant to be eaten. As a matter of fact, once you could smell it, you knew the job was done and you got it out of your house as soon as you could."

"My mom made a sunburn cream that smelled like that. I swear she put camel dung in it."

"Don't say things like that," Vala groaned as her stomach gurgled at the imagery.

"Maybe this will help." Daniel set her tea in front of her and went to pour himself a coffee.

Vala sipped at the tea, her stomach calming almost instantly. She picked up the letter again and when Daniel didn't stop her, she kept reading.