When Daniel got to the top of the stairs, he turned toward Sabrina's door, just across the hall from his. But when he saw that her lights were off, he decided their conversation could wait until tomorrow morning.

He opened his door and turned on the overhead light. He was surprised to see a very formal-looking note propped up on his nightstand. He picked it up and smiled as he read:

The Pleasure of Your Company is Requested Directly Across the Hall

His 'engraved invitation'? Well, on short notice, anyway. Leave it to an art major to know calligraphy. You couldn't turn down an engraved invitation. That would be rude.

He shook his head, picked up the invitation and started out the door. Then he turned back around, went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He picked up a few items from the bottom of his shaving kit, just in case, and headed across the hall.

"Come in," Sabrina called in response to his soft knock.

Daniel stuck his head just inside the door. "I brought my invitation…" He waved it at her, and then stopped in amazement. Every surface of the room held a lighted candle, and they were all flickering in the draft from the open door.

Sabrina was sitting in front of an antique dressing table, brushing her hair as she watched him in its mirror. She was wearing something filmy, something wonderful.

Daniel felt underdressed, or was that overdressed? He wasn't sure at this point. He also felt like he was living out a scene from the Hitchcock classic, Rebecca. Only she wasn't Rebecca, and he certainly wasn't the creepy housekeeper…Mrs. Danvers?… no, not by a long shot…

She watched him watching her and said nothing. She just kept brushing her hair. Daniel licked his lips and attempted casual conversation. "I feel like I ought to be wearing a smoking jacket or something," he joked.

"No, believe me, you look just fine the way you are." She smiled at him in the mirror as he crossed the room to stand at her back. "But I wouldn't be surprised to find one of Ernest's somewhere in the back of that closet, if you want to look."

"Noooo, I don't think so. There's a little bit of an 'ick' factor there." If the truth were to be told, having any kind of romantic encounter in Catherine's bedroom was a little creepy. It would almost be like making love on your parents' bed. But who was he kidding? He could deal.

"Here, let me do that." Daniel took the brush and began brushing her hair; long, slow, even strokes. About every fourth brush stroke he would stop, lift up her hair and kiss the nape of her neck.

"That feels…ummm….unbelievable. I think you've done this before, Dr. Jackson."

"You could say that. I used to do this for my wife every night, but her brush wasn't as nice as yours." Sabrina's was silver. Sha're's had been carved from mastage bone.

"Wife?" Sabrina turned halfway around and looked up at him in dismay, causing him to lose his rhythm. "You're married?"

"My wife died….um….five years ago now." It was probably a good sign that he actually had to stop and think to remember how long ago it had been. For the first couple of years he could have told people how many days it had been.

Sabrina turned around completely so that she was facing him. Looking up, she said, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. It happened a long time ago." She looked beautiful in the soft glow of the candles. Most women did. Sha're had… Reluctantly he pulled his mind back to the present.

"I'm glad you accepted my invitation." She ran her finger lightly over his jaw, which was just starting to show some five-o-clock shadow. Well, make that eleven-o-clock shadow.

"How could I not? I've always been a sucker for…calligraphy." Somehow he had managed to make it sound wicked, and Sabrina grinned wickedly in return.

But before she could think of a clever reply, he took her hand, pulled her up into his arms and kissed her; gently at first, then more insistently. The silver handled brush dropped to the floor, forgotten.

His hands were roaming over her back, through her hair. He breathed in its fragrance and he thought again of his history with curly-haired women. Were they just naturally attracted to him or was he drawn to them? It was his last logical thought of the evening.

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Down the hall, Jack was returning the favor and giving Sam a backrub. "Do you think they'll remember to blow out all those candles?" he asked as he dripped massage oil onto the small of her back and rubbed it in.

"Ohhhhh…I'm sure they will, Jack. They're both responsible adults." She felt utterly boneless, totally relaxed. "Well, she is, anyway."

"I guess I could stop by there and check after a while…"

With effort, Sam managed to turn over onto her back. "I don't think that would be a very good idea, Jack," she whispered huskily.

He paused, considered her statement (and his options) and then replied, "You know, I think you're right."

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Daniel woke up gradually, his senses kicking in one by one. First came the scent of candles, many different fragrances all blending together in a pleasant potpourri: vanilla, cinnamon, beeswax maybe.

Then came the feeling of the sun on his face, warm and caressing. He opened his eyes and saw sunlight streaming through the front windows. He stretched languorously and reached for something, someone…Sha're? No, Sabrina.

Last night came back in a rush. Since Daniel had lost Sha're, his sexual encounters had been few and far between. He didn't quite live the life of a monk, but it was pretty close.

His first night with Sabrina had been great, but it had also been impulsive and hurried, as though each of them was afraid of lowering barriers and revealing too much about themselves. But last night was…well, amazing; 'think about it in your old age' amazing. He smiled and stretched again.

Rolling over onto his side, he saw Sabrina, curled into a wing backed chair next to the fireplace, a blanket draped loosely around her.

She was staring into space and she looked sad, although it was hard to be sure without his glasses. Idly, he wondered where they were—he had no memory of taking them off. He didn't remember extinguishing the candles either. It was a wonder they hadn't burned down the house.

"Come back to bed," he said, lazily. Startled, she looked up. It was then he noticed she was holding the necklace, gently rubbing the symbol of Ra with her thumb. She stopped rubbing it and smiled at him.

"I didn't know you were awake," she said, as she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders more closely.

"Come back to bed," he said again. "You look cold…How long have you been sitting there?"

"About an hour." She smiled shyly. "I've been watching you sleep."

"Well, that's embarrassing," he laughed. "I hope I wasn't drooling." He sat up, pulled the covers up closer around his waist, and slid back so he could lean against the headboard. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I don't know. I guess you just looked so comfortable. I didn't want to disturb you."

"You're kidding, right?" laughed Daniel. He patted the bed next to him. "Come back to bed, Sabrina. I think we need to talk."

She walked over to the bed, the blanket still wrapped around her and crawled up next to him, so that she could lean against the headboard, too.

She was still holding the necklace, almost like she didn't want to let it go. Daniel wondered if she regretted giving it to him at the funeral.

"Why didn't you tell me someone was with you in the car?" he asked.

"What?"

"Your accident. Why didn't you tell me someone was with you?" Daniel put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close so that her head was resting on his chest.

"Who told you that? Morgan?"

"It doesn't matter who told me." He pulled her tighter. "Your cousin, Gretchen: were you two close?"

For a few moments she didn't answer. "No, not really. We had only known each other for a few days." She continued to play with the necklace as she talked. "I know that sounds strange, but you know how my family is…We're not….close."

Daniel nodded in sympathy. "How did you come to be together in that car?"

"She was on a vacation in Italy. You know; 'See the Italian Riviera in Five Days'?…She looked me up, gave me a call, and asked me if I'd like to join her." She looked at Catherine's necklace and started rubbing its surface again. "We were cousins, and we'd never even met…Catherine had told her how to find me. I had some vacation time coming myself, so I said, 'Why not?'."

"Tell me about the accident," prompted Daniel.

"There's not much to tell. I was driving a rental car. It had been raining. The road was slick. I lost control." Sabrina's voice seemed oddly unemotional, as though she had already put this far behind her. "We went over an embankment," she said. "I was just banged up some, but…Gretchen…" She swallowed. "Gretchen was thrown from the car. Gretchen died on the side of the road that day, all alone…"

Daniel was starting to regret his insistence that she talk about this. Her comments and reactions were odd, to say the least. "It wasn't your fault, Sabrina." He stroked her hair softly, and then kissed the top of her head.

"You don't know that. How could you know that?" She turned so that she was facing him.

"Because I know you."

"You don't know me, not really." She handed him the necklace and pulled the blanket tighter.

"Oh, I'd say I know you pretty well after last night…" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, finally eliciting a smile from her. He decided to let the subject go. "As much as I'd like to stay here the rest of the day…I guess we should get up. You want to share a shower?"

"Sure, I'm all about water conservation," she teased. "I'll go get it started. It takes a while for the water to heat up. Then you can come... 'surprise me'."

"Ah ha…very funny."

Sabrina loosened her grip on the blanket and gave him a kiss. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"For caring enough to ask me what happened, what happened to Gretchen." She smiled and tried to blink back a tear.

He dried her tears with his thumb. "You're welcome, Sabrina."

Daniel watched her as she left the room. She had left the blanket on the bed, and he was enjoying the view. When he could no longer see her, he looked down at the necklace and then reached over to put it on the bedside table.

It slipped off the edge and then he heard it bounce as it hit the floor. "Damn." He felt around on the floor and finally located it just under the bed. When he pulled it back up into view, he was surprised to see that something had sprung open when it hit the floor. "Damn," he said again, "It's a locket."

"Daniel? You coming? I saved your place!" He could barely hear her over the water.

"I'll be there in a minute," he called out. "Don't wash anything until I get there!" He couldn't really hear her response. He concentrated instead on the necklace, no, the locket in his hand.

Inside Catherine's signature piece of jewelry were two small pictures. He assumed that they were of Catherine and Ernest, taken when they had first met, back in the forties. It was hard to be sure without his glasses.

The two of them looked so full of life, so ready to take on the world. What were they trying to tell him? Sighing, he put it back carefully on the table. Then he made his way into the steamy bathroom.