Light Shed

Part 2

There's been debate over whether Daniel would know about the attraction between Jack and Sam. I think he would. After all, if Teal'c knows (as evidenced in "Grace"), then Daniel would, too, right? In the past, I've written scenes between Daniel and Sam or Jack where he references their relationship and some readers have sent messages questioning whether Daniel would even be cognizant of their relationship, let alone bring it up. I'm just throwing it out there that I think that Daniel probably isn't a "shipper", but he's human, and would want his friends to be happy.

-OOOOOOO-

"Hey, Sam." Daniel's head poked around the frame of her door. "You ready?"

"Yeah." She laid her pencil on the papers in front of her and walked around the table. She'd finally finished her presentation – a few days ahead of schedule.

Entering, Daniel set the box he carried on an unoccupied space of tabletop he found. "Just between you and me, I'm really ready for this exile to be over."

"You're telling me." Rolling back her sleeve, she exposed the tender skin of her inner arm. "I'm starting to feel like a pincushion."

Daniel donned his latex gloves and ripped open the little packet with its alcohol wipe. "But on a positive note, now we all know how to become vampires."

Sam watched as he wrapped the elastic band around her arm and thumped her vein. There was a tiny poke as he inserted the needle and drew the amount of blood Janet had requested be sent to her daily. "Or leeches."

Pressing a gauze pad to her arm, he withdrew the needle. "Well, only a few more days, right?"

"Four. But who's counting?"

"You mean, besides Jack?" Daniel spoke from around the pen lid that he'd clamped in the side of his mouth. The pen itself was being used to label the most recent vial of Sam's blood. Finished with writing, he placed the vial in the requisite container and then replaced the lid of the pen. "Seriously, Sam. That man is driving me nuts."

Clamping her mouth shut, Sam accepted the bandaid he'd handed her, applying it to the gauze. Removing the rubber tourniquet from her upper arm, she dropped it into the box carrying the rest of the supplies.

"I mean, we spend a lot of time together - a lot of time between missions and briefing and prep-work. But the past few weeks have just seemed never ending."

"How's it coming with the translations?"

Closing his box, Daniel made a little juggling motion with his arms. "Who knows? As an archaeologist, I'd say that they're fascinating glimpses into this culture. Historians would be geeking out all over these writings. But they aren't really helpful to our cause, so I'm getting a little bored. Although there's some kind of freaky stuff on the walls of the Light room."

Leaning back against the table, Sam checked on the status of her needle-mark before looking back up at Daniel. "Freaky?"

"Freaky." Her friend grinned. "Dirty. Kinky. It's basically erotica. Loran won't even help me with those carvings, and even Teal'c is a little discomfited by them."

"So, the Goa'uld used that particular room as - " She cringed slightly before continuing. "A sex room?"

"I'm sure there was more to it than that, but my guess is that part of the effect that the Light had on the Goa'uld was sexual in nature."

"Did you tell Colonel O'Neill?"

Daniel snorted. "No. If I did that, he'd probably learn Goa'uld over night just so that he could translate those walls by himself."

"Come on, Daniel." She made one final swipe with the gauze pad before folding her sleeve back down. "He's not that bad."

"No, he's not." Daniel tilted his head up, inhaling deeply. "I guess he's just getting on my nerves."

"Why?"

"He's bored." It had taken him a moment to come up with the right word. "There's nothing for him to do here, and he's restless. So, he's got all this energy and ability, and no focus. That kind of thing has always been bad for Jack."

"And, in turn, for you."

"He tends to fiddle." Daniel grinned. "You know what it's like. He's been in here annoying you, too, after all."

"That, he has." Sam canted her head downward.

"Aren't you sick of it, yet?"

"A little. He's stopped, for the most part."

Daniel's look turned speculative. "Was that his choice or yours?"

"Neither." She forced herself to sound casual. "He just found something else to do, I guess."

"You don't miss him, do you?" Daniel's cheek dimpled into a familiar smile. "Because I'll give him back, if you do."

"No." Shaking her head, she frowned down at the box of vials on her table as she formed her next statement. "But, really, I didn't mind all that much."

"Because you like him."

"Don't you?"

"As a friend, sure." Daniel's brow lifted. "But you and Jack - well, there's history there, right?"

Sam simply pressed her lips together as her shoulder rose.

"So, this must be doubly hard for you two." His voice had lowered to a near-whisper. "All this togetherness."

"Nothing has happened, Daniel." She lifted a hand to fiddle at a curl that was tickling the back of her ear. Stupid humidity. "We're professionals. Colleagues. That's all."

The sound Daniel made didn't even have a name. His face expressed his incredulity just as forcefully. "So, how is it living smack-dab in the middle in Denial?"

"Daniel - "

But he barreled past her. "I mean, seriously. You were practically joined at the hip in the mines beneath the ice, and I know that stuff happened there that Hammond doesn't know about. You two can't exist in the same room without being on the same side of the table, or standing next to each other, or sitting in adjacent chairs. And sometimes, it's way more obvious than you think it is."

Sam's attention snapped to his face.

"I'm just saying." His handsome face was completely open. "I love you both, even though Jack drives me to the brink of insanity on a regular basis. Still, I'd be ecstatic if things were different. For both of you."

Sam considered that. "Different how?"

"Different in a way that you both could be happy." Behind the lenses of his glasses, his piercing blue eyes were earnest. "I don't know what would be best. Apart, together, teammates, friends. Friends with benefits. I honestly have no idea. It's amazing what you two are able to accomplish as a team. And equally disconcerting just how much you're able to sublimate. It's kind of superhuman, if you ask me."

"We're not superhuman."

"Then what are you?"

She scuffed the toe of her boot against some random dirt on the floor. It took her a moment to find her answer. "I'm kind of feeling more lost than anything else. And a little bit stupid that I can't figure out what I want."

Daniel shook his head. "Well, if there's anything that either of you are, it's not stupid."

"You're too kind."

"Well, anyway, there're only a few days left, right?" He captured her gaze meaningfully. "So, whatever, right?"

"Whatever?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Opportunities, Sam. There may be opportunities for you to figure things out."

"I won't do anything that puts the team - or our long-term mission - in jeopardy, Daniel."

"Geez Louise, Sam." His voice was little more than a whisper. "We're only here for a few more days. Who knows when this kind of chance will come along again?"

She considered her next words carefully. "I'll be glad to get home."

"I'm pretty sure that we all will." Daniel picked up his box. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go suck some blood out of everyone else, and then chuck it through the 'Gate to Doctor Fraiser."

Sam nodded, glancing at her watch. "And it's just about time for me to hit the Light."

-OOOOOOOO-

She'd been sure it was a dream.

Heat and sensation and the sleepy exultation of fulfillment. She'd stretched against him, then pulled him closer. His hands - his fingers - everywhere on her, his mouth nipping and teasing. She'd risen up to him, accepting his touches and returning them, turn for turn. Eyes closed, blind, she'd flown into the maelstrom of feeling and been buffeted by his palms, his lips, his body. And everywhere had been The Light, caressing them both like a lover, floating around them in ghostly bands, drowning them in glory.

It had to have been a dream.

Please, let it have been a dream.

Sam stirred, then sank back into that misty point between sleep and wakefulness. She was warm. Too warm, really, when the palace had proven to be a drafty place. Cold stone and bare windows, and that dank smell that always go funneled through the hallways by the winds rushing in off the ocean.

Smiling, she stretched slightly, a sated heaviness having invaded her body - a feeling she normally associated with – oh, no.

No, no, no.

She froze, her eyes squeezed tightly shut even as she took stock. She lay in a nest, of sorts, created from the cushions that had been left haphazardly around the place by previous addicts. She vaguely remembered having gathered a few together to sit on when she'd started her session in the Light Room. After as many weeks as they'd spent in the place, she knew just how hard the benches could get. She'd crossed her ankles and settled herself sitting upright, propped against the decoratively carved wood behind her, intending to be in and out before her alarm sounded.

Alarm. Sam touched her wrist, but her watch wasn't there. She didn't remember taking it off. Cracking her lids, she glared at her own bare wrist - as if it would tell her how it ended up that way. Taking stock, she concentrated on her immediate position. Comfortable, cozy, even, she lay in easy contentment. The silk of the cushions radiated her own body heat back at her. She didn't have to look down to know that nothing remained between her skin and the fabric of the pillows. She closed her eyes again, swallowing sharply, a tiny groan escaping her throat.

"You're awake."

Rolling over, she found the source of the voice. The Colonel sat a few yards away. He was on the floor, scooched up against one of the supportive arcs that surrounded the podium. Shirtless, his pants had been pulled on in haste - the button wasn't fastened. He'd balanced his elbows on his bent knees, his bare feet flat on the floor. He'd been wringing his black t-shirt into a knot and then back loose again - just for something to do. Biding his time until she woke up? Probably. The man wasn't physically capable of sitting still, unless it was mission-related. Carefully, she scooted upwards, the thin coverlet clutched against her chest.

He pursed his lips, nodding. "Yeah. I pretty much woke up the same way."

"Sir - I - " She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes. "What happened?"

His left brow rose high. "You don't remember?"

She stared down at the blanket covering her. It was a luminescent purple color, with embroidered flowers hidden amongst what looked like ribboned leafy vines. Beautiful. Opulent. Foreign. She had absolutely no idea from where it had appeared. And as for other images flying through her mind - they'd been dreams, right? Random products of her subconscious. None of it had been real, even if it had seemed to be. Even if she wanted them to be. "I don't remember anything, Sir."

He sighed, scratching at a spot behind his right ear. His mumble didn't ring true. "Yeah. Neither do I."

"So, it's possible that nothing happened, right?" She was grasping at straws, her tone desperately optimistic. "I mean - it's possible, right?"

His expression turned skeptical. "Carter, I didn't wake up over here."

Sam's eyes closed again, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

"And I didn't wake up with my pants on."

"So, what are you saying?"

He shrugged. He'd tried for nonchalance, but the tense set of his jaw and neck betrayed his lie. "I'm saying that you snore, Major. And you have a tendency to wriggle in your sleep."

He'd teased her about the snoring before. How many times had they slept in close proximity over the years? He talked in his sleep - and sometimes more than talked. They all had their nightmares. It wasn't really something they discussed. But the other thing was new. "Wriggle?"

"Wriggling. Like a freaking puppy. You just kind of nestle in until you're comfy." His eyes narrowed. "It got awkward."

Groaning, Sam covered her face with her hands. "Oh."

"Other than that - who knows? I can't remember any more than coming into the room."

She couldn't help it - her eyes flickered towards the archway entry, relieved to find it empty. "It was my turn to detox."

"Mine, too."

"I set my alarm for fifteen minutes,"

"I'm at twenty, still. But then, I was more hooked than you."

"The automatic timer should have gone off." She'd rigged it herself, interfacing Earth technology with the podium in order to make sure that nobody got more of the Light than necessary.

"I don't know, Carter. When I woke up, the Light was off." He lifted a shoulder, canting his head. "And we were - yeah. Awkward."

She studied his face. "So, how long have we been in here?"

He'd already ascertained that information. His expression turned grim as he lifted his wrist, drawing her attention to his watch. "I'm not sure how long you've been in here, but I got here a few hours ago."

"So," she considered, canting her head to one side. "Long enough."

Unbelievably, he grinned. "Well, depends on your definition of 'enough', I suppose."

"Sir." She frequently found him amusing. This, however, wasn't one of those times. Her tone indicated that fact. So did the glare she fixed on him.

His smile faded into a grimace. Heaving a deep breath, he shifted, lifting himself onto his feet. Shaking his head, he untangled his shirt with a flick of his wrist. "I don't know what to tell you, Carter. I don't have any more answers than you."

Sam ran a stiff hand through her hair, pulling her knees up towards her chest. "If the timer wasn't working, who turned the Light off?"

Jack pulled his shirt over his head, straightening it before responding. "I don't know that either, Major."

"So, it's possible that someone saw - something."

"Most likely."

For a long, long time, Sam just sat there, implications tearing through her mind like traffic on a busy freeway. Needing to find her focus, she forced herself to grasp one thing and bring it close. "How much longer do we have here, a few days?"

"Doctor Fraiser said three. Four, tops." He lifted the front of his shirt just long enough to button his pants. "Decreasing dosages five minutes per day seems to be doing the trick."

"Well, then, we'll keep our distance. We'll make sure that we're not alone together."

"Carter - "

Sam hugged her knees, unable to meet his eyes directly. "It'll be like it never happened. We can just - forget."

He was looking at her, studying her in a way he hadn't in ages. When he spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion. "Forget what?"

Cautiously, she looked up at him. "Exactly."

There was a long, long pause as their eyes locked - communicating without any words the precarious nature of the situation. Then O'Neill shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and rocked back onto his heels. A measure of acceptance, of agreement punctuated his pose. He took a step towards the entryway, then paused.

The pillar loomed between them, like a wall. She could only see his a portion of his back and his shoulders over the top of the Light device. His jaw clenched once, then again before he opened his lips to suck in a breath. "You're sure?"

She had to be, didn't she? Anything else would be unacceptable. Still, her voice broke a little when she answered him. "Yes, Sir."

-OOOOOOO-

"Sam!" Janet smiled, stepping backwards to open the door wider. "I wondered when you were going to come for your check up."

"I had a few things that needed to be put away." She walked into the doctor's office, closing the door behind her. SG-1 had been back on Earth for several hours, now. "I thought you'd be busy with the others and figured I'd let them go first."

"Well, let's get you into a gown and we'll do a full work up. I'll have the nurse draw some labs."

Sam nodded. "Okay."

"So, where are you guys headed off to next?" Janet donned her lab coat and then picked up a clipboard. "I figured that, after luxuriating in a Palace by the sea for three weeks, you all would be raring for some high adventure."

"I'll be guest lecturing at the Academy for a few days." Sam reached out and ran her fingers along the back of a chair that sat near the office door. "Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c are going to be babysitting a team of scientists on some moon."

Janet smirked. "I'll bet they're looking forward to that."

"You have no idea." Sam snorted. "Actually, the Colonel doesn't even know he's going. He won't be a happy camper when he finds out."

"Well, I guess it can't all be fun and games."

"Mmmm." Sam nodded. "I guess. Sometimes, none of it is."

"You're being a sour puss tonight." Janet's eyes narrowed. "What's that about?"

"Nothing." Shrugging a little, Sam moved over to where Janet's monitor glowed on the cluttered office desk. While Janet herself was the model of efficiency, her organizational genius had not extended to her workspace. "What's this?"

"On the computer?" Janet opened the file folder on the clipboard in her hands, checking the data within before glancing over at the screen. "I was just finishing up some reports about your team and this last mission."

Sam leaned forward to study an incomplete chart on the monitor. Five different-colored lines started at various high points at the left side of the line graph, gradually making their way downward diagonally towards the opposite side. "So, what's this one?"

"The one that's onscreen now?" Squinting across the dim office, she thought about it briefly before answering. "That's dopamine levels."

"For us?"

"Yeah." Janet nodded. "You, the Colonel, Teal'c, Daniel, and Loran."

"Makes sense, since we all detoxed at the same time."

"The General thought it would be best just to include all the information on the same graph. Although, I'm rethinking that with the anomalies I found."

Sam frowned. "Anomalies?"

"Yeah." Her heels clicked on the concrete floor as she took a few steps in Sam's direction. Trailing her fingers along the lines on-screen, she tapped a specific point on the graph. "Everybody's levels continued on the same downward arc until a few days before you all came back, when yours and the Colonel's took a little spike. I can't explain it. There's nothing in either of your mission reports to give any indication as to why."

Sam's breath caught in her chest for a moment. "Weird."

"I know." Janet nodded before raising one shoulder in a shrug. "I just didn't see the point of leaving you there for another day while the rest of the team came back, so I didn't mention it to the General. But needless to say, I'm grateful that you and O'Neill don't seem to have any lingering aftereffects of that spike."

"No." Sam fingered the edge of a manila folder that sat to the side of the computer keyboard. "We don't."

"Still. I'd like to know what caused it."

Sam was fairly certain that she wouldn't. Glancing over to where Janet was still scanning the folder on her clipboard, Carter lifted the corner of the folder, peeking at the paper within. It was lined, smaller than notebook paper, with rough edges that testified to its having been ripped out of a pad of some sort; probably one of those black and white composition books that Daniel favored. The writing was childish - rough and crude. So - not notes made by O'Neill, Teal'c, or Daniel.

Loran. Sam hadn't been aware that Daniel had been teaching him to write. Apparently, the kid had been a very quick study.

Daniel teach me words. We read pillars and walls. It is fun.

Ocean makes big waves today. Much rain.

Sam cooks good. Jack likes food. Teal'c likes food lots.

I miss my mother and father.

Jack is mostly funny.

Sam smiled, flipping the page back and looking at the next one. This handwriting was neater, but still blocky, the language stilted.

I will live on Earth. They will find me a home.

Will I have a new mother and father?

I will take my things with me. I will take my memories.

Daniel asked the address to my old planet, but I don't remember it.

"Nosy Rosie." Janet had snuck up on her.

Sam closed the folder with a little 'fwip', grinning sheepishly. "I didn't realize Loran was learning to write."

"Daniel told me that he was trying to get him as ready as he could for school here." Janet handed Sam a neatly-folded hospital gown. "He and I have discussed the difficulties that Cassie had right after she came to live with me. We were hoping to avoid some of those for Loran."

"He's a nice kid." Sam glared down at the hospital robe. "I hope that we can sort something out for him."

"I'm sure they will." Janet reached out to retrieve the folder. She opened it, shuffling through the pages inside. "I haven't even read this all the way through. I'm supposed to transcribe it, but I really didn't see the point. It's all just random phrases. As if Daniel told him to write his most basic thoughts."

"I'm surprised at how much he improved."

"Obviously, he's smart." Janet turned to the first page, reading out loud. "'Ocean makes big waves today. Much rain.'"

"It rained constantly for the first two weeks. There was this huge storm and we ended up having to stay inside the entire time. He was a little freaked out by it." She grimaced. "I can't imagine him being a kid all alone there after his parents died."

"Listen to this one." Janet rolled her eyes just the tiniest bit. "'Someday I will be a man like Jack.'"

Sam smiled. "Loran followed the Colonel around whenever he wasn't working with Daniel. I think the kid viewed him as a big brother. He emulated him."

"That man usually has a following." Janet grunted. "Although, I'm not certain that the world could handle two of him."

Sam didn't answer, watching as her friend scanned a few more pages.

"Seriously, I don't think that there's a point in - " she stopped, her eyes narrowing. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you read this one?"

"Which one?"

"It's from the last week you were there. Four days before you came back."

Sam went still, trepidation making its way down her spine like a waterfall of sleet. Her mouth formed the word before she could prepare her throat to speak it. "Oh?"

"'Jack and Sam are sleeping in the Light. Just like Mother and Father during the Yearning. I covered them with a blanket'."

Sam bit her lips together, staring down at the gown in her hand.

"'Yearning'?"

"I don't - "

"Because that sounds kind of like - "

Sam tilted her head downward, her eyes drifting closed. "Janet - please."

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

Sam clenched her teeth together, her hands wadding the fabric she held.

"What happened on that planet, Sam?"

Sam pressed her eyes closed. Tightly, as if she could retreat into her own mind and become invisible, or at least self-contained.

"Sam?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Or you don't want to remember?" Closing the file, Janet placed it quietly on the table next to the computer monitor.

"Both, kind of."

"So, this report has some validity to it."

"What report?" Sam indicated the folder with a hapless wave. "It's ramblings. He's a kid. He doesn't understand."

"Four days before you guys returned." Fraiser threw a look across the room to where a toasters flew across her now-darkened computer screen. "That explains a few things about the dopamine spike."

Groaning, Carter rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

Crossing to the door, Janet purposefully turned the lock before pivoting to fix Sam in her gaze. "So, I guess we have some talking to do."

"Talking as in 'officer to officer' or as friends?"

Janet's face softened. "Sam, I'm your friend first."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, sweetie." Janet motioned towards the nuclear-fallout grade naugahyde couch that sat near the back wall of her office. As Sam lowered herself to a cushion, Janet pulled up her office chair and plunked herself down. "Come on. Sit. Tell me everything."

Sam fingered the gown still in her hands, playing with one of the odd side-ties that hadn't been captured within the folds of the little bundle. Taking a deep breath, she flicked a look at her friend before beginning. "It was normal, at least for us."

"Until it's not normal."

"Right." Carter smiled ruefully. "It rained a lot, like I said, and the Colonel was bored, so he hung around with me a lot. I think he was more comfortable with me than with the others."

To her credit, Janet's only response was a tight nod.

"It wasn't - flirty - you know? It wasn't how it was in the mines under the ice. I thought we were just regular. Just us being us." Running her thumb along the outer trim of the robe, Sam lifted a single shoulder. "Then at dinner one night, Daniel mentioned something, and all of a sudden I noticed - things."

"Things?"

"Things. Looks. Interactions. Like I'd suddenly become aware of him again. Of everything that has happened in our past. And all of it just came back."

Janet wasn't able to engage her filter in time, and her thoughts emerged as words. "Came back? Had it ever really gone away?"

"No." Sam was determined to be honest. "No. It hasn't. But we've agreed. We had agreed not to act on anything."

"Had?"

"Of course. We're on the same team. He's my CO. And for months now, there's been this - whatever - something. Something that's not allowed, and can't happen. And there was that whole damned Za'tarc thing, and then the mind stamp and you know the fallout from that, Janet."

"I was there, Sam." Janet leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "I ran the tests. Held your hand as we waited for the results."

"We may have to run those tests again."

Fraiser's intelligent eyes studied Sam's face as she absorbed that bit of information. "So - things happened."

Sam shook her head, inhaling deeply as she stared up at the institutional ceiling tiles. "I think so."

"You think so?"

"Like I said, Janet." Sam shivered a little. "All of it came back. All of it. For whatever reason, he started annoying me. Or I just started getting irked at everything. Maybe it was me - maybe it was just the situation. But it was a hyper-awareness. Like every time he walked by, I wanted to crawl inside him. So, I was kind of bitchy to him - trying to get him to go away. We discussed it a little, but you know how that goes. We don't really communicate, you know? And then there was the incident on the beach - "

"What kind of incident?"

"Flirting. Or whatever. We were playing football with everyone, and then they had to go in. The Colonel and I stayed behind. We were both having fun, and it was easy to forget - protocol. It was really, really easy."

"And did you - "

"No." That answer, at least, was firm. "Not then."

"So your relationship devolved back into what it has been in the past. All that attraction resurfaced."

Sam's nod was slow. "Yes. That day - the one Loran was talking about - I went into the Light room for my dose. I set the timer. I set the alarm on my watch. There was a system that we set up, to make sure that we didn't overdose and go backwards."

"Makes sense."

"Daniel had just taken my blood sample. He and I talked a little. He'd been the one to mention how obvious things had gotten. He doesn't understand that we can't be like normal people. Intellectually, he does - he's not an idiot. But he doesn't approve. He's critical, I guess."

"We all care about the two of you."

Sam's eyes drifted shut for a moment. "I know. I know. But it simply can't happen."

Janet dipped her head, her brows low. "Sam."

"So, I went in to take my turn in the Light, and I felt myself drift away." She stared down at the wad of fabric on her lap. "Usually, it's like time just stops. Like you're so enthralled with the beauty of the Light that you don't notice time passing. But this time, it was as if I'd fallen asleep and I was actually dreaming. Only, the dream was vivid, and tactile, and real. So damned real."

The doctor eyes grew wide, her fingertips rising to press at her lips.

"And then I woke up. The Light was off, but it wasn't like just coming out of the influence of it, like before. I'd actually been sleeping. He was there, just watching me. He'd woken up before me."

"Did he remember what had happened?"

"I don't know. I think so." She faltered. "I really don't know for certain. We talked a little, and he left."

"Did you talk again afterwards?"

"No." Carter ran a stiff hand through her hair. "No. We decided to stay as far away from each other as possible until we could get home."

"So, basically, you chose to pretend it didn't happen."

"Because we really don't know that anything did happen."

"Sam." Janet's voice was filled with disbelief. "You have to know how ridiculous that sounds. Besides. We have Loran's account of what happened afterwards. What he saw."

"Which has to disappear." She'd said it. Breathing deeply, Sam scooted forward on her seat, leaning over the gown still on her lap. "Janet. That file - Loran's journal - all of it - has to get lost."

For several tense moments, Janet simply looked at Sam, her expression inscrutable. Finally, she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, her pose mirroring Sam's. "Do you know what you're asking me?"

"I do." Barely a whisper, Sam's voice sounded small, almost pleading. "And I'm so sorry."

"This isn't just about you two anymore." Janet touched her fingertips to her forehead. "You're asking me to falsify mission reports."

"I know." Sam rose, tossing the muddled robe into a heap on the couch. "I know. But with everything else that's happened this year, this would just be the nail in our coffins. All those mission reports are passed to the higher ups - first in OIS and then to the Pentagon. Other people - people who don't understand the program, and don't know the Colonel and me - they review and they pass judgments. They discuss them. And there has already been too much that's happened. We could be court-martialed, Janet. We could be end up being dishonorably discharged. We'd lose everything."

"The same goes for me if it's discovered that I knowingly lied, Sam."

"Not lied, Janet." Sam shifted on her feet. "Lost a file."

"Splitting hairs, Sam."

Somewhere outside the office, an alarm sounded, and Janet glanced over her shoulder to see nurses running past her office window. Dragging her attention back to the Major, Fraiser frowned. "I'll think about it."

"Jan - "

The doctor turned on her smart little heels, hurrying in the direction of the commotion in the infirmary. Flicking the lock on the handle, she pulled the heavy door open. With a sigh, she paused, looking back at Sam. "I'll think about it."

-OOOOOOOO-

She'd spent the night on base, staking a claim on one of the personal quarters set aside for officers. Her intention had been to work - starting the laborious process of transcribing her presentation into the computer, but after nearly an hour of simply sitting at her desk staring at her keyboard, she'd given up and headed to bed. Once there, she'd lain awake, thinking - fretting, before finally drifting off into a broken, disturbed sleep. When her alarm had sounded, she'd nearly cried.

After a quick shower, she'd dried her hair and dressed, then started towards the mess. She needed coffee, hot food. The halls were unusually quiet, but Sam wasn't going to complain. She didn't want to see other people anyway.

Rounding a curve in the hall, she headed towards where three corridors converged in this section, at which the elevator sat in the widest point of the junction. Voices made her pause, though, just at the last curve, and a quick glance around the corner made her cringe.

General Hammond stood with Janet, waiting for the carriage.

"So, we're done with this thing? They're all recovered?"

Janet nodded. "All of their dopamine levels and other vitals are back to normal, Sir."

There was a soft slide of footsteps behind her, and Sam craned her neck to see the Colonel come to a stop a few inches behind her. His breath was warm on her cheek as he leaned in and whispered, "Eavesdropping?"

Sam glared at him, pressed her index finger to her lips, and turned back towards the elevator.

Hammond was continuing. "Well, the debrief didn't seem to expose anything we need to be concerned about."

"No, Sir." Janet shook her head. "They're all completely back to normal."

"Good." The General nodded. "That's good news."

"Yes it is." The Doctor smiled in answer.

"Although, something Doctor Jackson said has been niggling at the back of my mind, Doctor Fraiser." The General ran his palm over the smooth dome of his crown. "He said that the boy - Loran - had been keeping a journal of sorts."

Behind her, the Colonel's body pressed against her as he asked, "What journal?"

Carter reached back and laid her hand on his side, shushing him by tightening her fingers just a bit.

Janet's answer was a careful, "Oh?"

"Daniel said that he'd included pages of it in his official mission reports that he'd given to you."

Janet frowned. "I'm sorry, Sir. I don't have those."

"Well, that's a shame." Hammond made a tiny movement of his shoulders that could have been a shrug. "Even though the journal technically wouldn't be part of the official mission report, I was hoping to hand those pages off to Bill Ochoa. He and his wife Patsy are going to be Loran's foster parents, and are anxious to learn more about him and his history."

"Ochoa." Fraiser pivoted on one sturdy heel. "Isn't he from the OSI?"

The elevator finally arrived with a muted 'ding', and both the General and Janet took a step towards the gray doors. "

"He's the lead investigator for the office." Hammond gestured towards Fraiser as the doors slid wide, ushering her into the carriage. "A stand-up guy. Nothing gets past him. He and his wife have been fostering teenagers for years. They had three daughters naturally, but they're all in college now. Loran will be their first intergalactic foster situation, though, and they were hoping to help him however they could."

"Well, I'm sorry, Sir." Fraiser watched as the General entered the car, allowing him to settle before reaching forward and pressing the button on the panel inside. "Perhaps that file's been lost."

"Maybe it'll turn up." As the doors began to slide shut, the General shrugged again. "You never know with things around here."

As the doors sealed, Sam turned halfway, so that her shoulders bumped up against the wall. The Colonel leaned sideways, propping himself up next to her. "So, journal?"

Sam nodded. "Daniel taught Loran to write things. He was a quick learner."

"And, that was bad?"

Ducking her chin, Sam sighed. "He saw things. On that morning. He was the one who brought the blanket."

"Ah." O'Neill looked down - at his feet? at her? - it didn't matter. "So, that file - "

"Would be awkward." He was close. Like he'd been in the Palace, preparing that damned meal. Every cell in Sam's body seemed to reach for him - wanted to lean nearer to him. She stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest and stayed still.

"And is it really lost?"

"I don't know." Bouncing a little against the wall, she fixed her focus on a spot on the wall opposite her. An Air Force poster with a F-15 on it. The pilot was holding his helmet on his hip, grinning widely. Probably because he'd never asked a fellow officer to blatantly falsify documents. "I'm assuming Janet has it stuck somewhere."

"So, you talked with her."

"A little." Her voice sounded wispy. She hated that. "I had to, once she'd read what Loran wrote."

O'Neill didn't answer, but somehow, he'd gotten closer, so that his shoulder brushed hers against the wall.

"Anyway, Sir." She straightened a little, putting her hands back as if to push off from the wall. "It's been taken care of."

"For now."

"For good, I think." She turned to face him. "I hope."

He took in her expression, reading her like only he could. No matter what she did, he still had always known precisely what she was feeling, or needing. It was disconcerting for a woman as independent as Sam Carter to have someone around so much who knew her so completely - as if she were living her life inside out.

"How long until you know if - ?" Trailing off, his eyes flickered to her midsection.

There was no use pretending confusion as to his meaning. Sam shook her head. "It's highly unlikely, Sir, given the timing. I should know for certain within a day or so."

He'd been married. He wasn't ignorant. For a long, long moment, he simply stood next to her, perched there on the wall as if he intended to prop it up for the rest of the day. After a while, a rueful smile teased at the corner of his lips. "It happened, you know."

Nodding, Sam looked sideways at him. A warmth enveloped her fingers. Down between their bodies, out of the view of the corridor's security cameras, his hand had slid around hers, his thumb smoothing along the tender skin at the base of her thumb. She should have pulled away, but couldn't. "I know."

"It wasn't a dream."

"No."

"When did you figure it out?"

"Later that night." She twisted her arm slightly, so that her palm faced his. "Well, actually, I knew as soon as I woke up, but I didn't want to admit it. Or acknowledge it, or whatever. But later, when I went to bed, it was evident. I could just tell."

"Ah." O'Neill's fingers continued their slow ministrations. "I'd wondered."

"And you?"

"I never knew it wasn't real. I remembered - I remember - most of it."

"The one thing I don't know for sure is how it started."

He canted his head, his brows lifting. "That, I can't tell you. All of a sudden, I realized what was happening. And by then - well, by then it was pretty obvious that neither of us were stopping."

"Or wanting to."

"Or even capable of it."

"Daniel said he'd found writings on the walls indicating that the Light room had been used for - that kind of activity. So, maybe that was part of the intended use of the place all along. Along with the obvious narcotic-like effects of the Light, the rise in dopamine levels would tend to futz with the users' libidos."

He actually breathed a snorting kind of laugh. "Carter, you can't explain it away. And even if you could, I think that the history that we have kind of trumps all that scientific mumbo jumbo."

"Yeah." She threaded her fingers through his, clasping tightly. "You're probably right."

"Because I'd do it again." Low, bold, his voice shivered between them - less a statement than it was a promise. His grip on her fingers nearly hurt. "With or without that damned Light."

"Sir - "

"Wouldn't you?"

Simple. So simple, yet unceasingly complex, his question rested between them like a viper. Powerful, seductive, smooth, and destructive. Sam couldn't help but remember the feel of him, his taste, his touch. Couldn't help but be transported back to the room, that bench, and those cushions, and the heady mix of sensations that had been elicited by his hands and mouth and skin. And his hand - right now - so deliciously large and warm around hers, evoked memories of heat and strength and the feelings she'd had of being completely, totally, and utterly cherished.

She'd prayed for it to have been a dream - why? Because of repercussions. Because of regulation and duty and code - or so she'd thought. But now, she recognized that the reality of their experience had made it that much harder to keep the distance they needed between them. Like tasting the water again had made it doubly thirst-quenching. She wanted more - more feeling, more languor, just more. More him.

Still, that honesty hurt. Sam could hear it in her own voice as she answered around a hysterical little laugh. "Yes. I would."

"Because it was - just." His expression turned impossibly intimate. "Damn good."

"Beautiful."

They'd spoken at the same time, then smiled about it.

"Mmmmm." As if gathering all of his will, he groaned as he lurched upright, his hand suddenly leaving hers. Sighing, he turned, shuffling a bit backwards until he'd given them a few feet's worth of buffer. "I'd better go. I was supposed to meet Hammond in his office twenty minutes ago."

Profound loss. Emptiness. She felt less than she had only a few moments before. "Okay."

His strides took him past her, his hand shoved deep into his pockets. A few steps from the elevator, he stopped and turned back to face her.

"Carter."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Nothing's changed, you know." He'd made a hasty visual recon to make sure they were still alone. And both of them knew that the cameras still weren't miked. To a casual observer, they were merely talking. Not saying things that mattered. His gaze intensified. "From the ice planet, to the Light place, to here. It's all the same, for me."

"I know." She had to make certain her face wouldn't betray her before answering further. "For me, too."

"And I know it'll be a while, yet." Pausing, his jaw pulsed briefly before he continued. "But we can wait, right?"

Sam's eyes slid closed in a slow, slow blink as memories suffused her entire body with a sudden, unbidden heat. She had to clear her throat before she could answer him. "Yeah. We can."

"All right." O'Neill nodded again, once. Decidedly. He took a few steps backwards, towards the elevator. "Just making sure."

As if there had been a question. Dumbly, she nodded - giving what had to have been an odd, befuddled sort of smile - watching as he turned back towards the elevator.

Before he'd pushed the call button, the doors dinged open, and a smattering of SGC personnel emerged, flowing around the Colonel like water around a stone. By the time they'd all exited, the elevator was closing again, and she only caught a glimpse of the Colonel's face before the doors met completely.

He'd looked angry, and a little defeated. Lost. Aching.

The crowd dispersed, and Sam found herself alone. Alone with the footsteps of strangers echoing away from her. Standing alone with the smell, the feel, the heat of him slowly disappearing. Appropriate, since everyone and everything always seemed to leave her.

Suddenly exhausted, she turned back towards the quarters she'd just left. She didn't have to be anywhere for hours, yet, she'd try the whole 'resting' thing again. Maybe this time, when her head hit the pillow, she'd actually be able to sleep.

And perhaps, if she were lucky, or blessed - or both - she'd dream.