Author's note: I never intended to write another piece in the world of "What's to Regret?", but the reviews on started me thinking about how the bond between Sam and Jack would influence her ability to have a relationship. So, I wrote this. There may be more in this world in time, there may not. I guess we'll have to see if the reviews continue to inspire me.

Disclaimer: I don't own SG1 or any of the characters therein. Hopefully ScFi and MGM will forgive the borrowing.

"The gate just froze and Siler is in a tizzy. We need you here STAT."

Sam froze as Jack's voice echoed through her mind. His timing could hardly be worse. She tensed under Pete's hands, stiff against the motion of his body as she replied, "Be right there, sir."

Pete groaned as he came, barely noticing her distraction.

"You okay?"

Damn, she must be bleeding emotions down the link. "Fine, sir. I'll be in as soon as I tell Pete."

"Ah. Right." She felt Jack move away mentally and tried to focus on her fiancé, or rather getting him away from her so she could get out of here.

"Honey, are you all right?" Pete finally realized his fiancée was not as blissfully worn out as he was.

"I have to go. Something came up at the base." She slipped out from under him and rolled off the bed.

"What are you talking about? How do you know that?" He laid sprawled across her bed, looking confused and upset.

She ignored him, focusing on grabbing her clothes and pulling them on. She'd prefer a shower after the last hour's activity, but it didn't sound like there was time. She was almost dressed before her cell phone rang, vibrating against the wood of her bedside table.

She grabbed the phone and flipped it open. "Be right there, Walter." She closed it just as fast and shoved it into her pants pocket.

"I gotta go." She turned and left the room without a smile or a kiss. Leaving so quickly was going to come back and haunt her, but she had to get to the base now. And she really didn't want to deal with him right now.

"Wait, what the hell is going on?" Pete followed her, grabbing her arm just before she could open the front door. "How could you know something was wrong even before you got a call?"

"Long story." It was a flat answer, but true, and she didn't have time for more. "I'll explain when I get back, but I have to go now." She peeled his hand off her arm and ran out the door before he could react. At least his nudity would probably stop him from following her to her car.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Carter? I'm sorry."

Sam giggled, trying not to let that action project down the link. General O'Neill must have told the guards at the front gate to let him know when she arrived at the mountain. His words came just as she entered the first elevator, conveniently alone.

"It's not your fault, sir." She was firm in that thought. "Even I didn't know Pete was coming over tonight. He decided to surprise me."

"That doesn't mean I have the right to intrude even if he isn't there." His tone was sheepish, but under the embarrassment was a darker emotion that he was trying to hide from her. She'd noticed that undertone a few times lately but still couldn't make sense of it.

"I could have shut you out." She could have. She'd even done it when she was sufficiently caught up in her research. Did that mean she wasn't sufficiently caught up in Pete?

"What did you tell him?" Ah, there was the question she expected.

"Nothing ... yet." This time she couldn't hold back the frustration and fear that had flooded her as she left her house.

"You want him to know." It wasn't a question. She could feel his understanding even as he struggled with a layer of anger. At her? Or at Pete? She wasn't sure.

"I ..." No, she didn't want to tell him, but she couldn't say that. She considered other answers as she walked from the first elevator to the one that could reach the control room. "He deserves to know." It was a cop out, but the best answer she could give.

"All right." There was a mental sigh she could feel probably echoed on the physical. "Tell him to keep his mouth shut ... but if it ever comes out, I'll cover for you."

"Sir?" It was half question, half shock.

"You're going to marry him. He should know. It's above his clearance level, but he should know."

She stepped through the door to the control room a moment later, which gave her the chance to catch his eyes as she silently replied, "Thank you."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIII

It was twelve long hours before Sam staggered back through her front door. The silence within her house seemed like a slap in the face. She knew Pete had every right to be upset with her, but at the same time she didn't want to deal with this particular mess.

Pete was waiting in the living room, TV off, radio off, just seething.

"I'm sorry." And she was. The question was, was he going to accept that or demand ...

"You going to explain now?"

"I'd rather get some sleep, but yes." Sam sighed and took a seat at the far end of the couch. "I should have told you before ... but it's above your classification level." She spoke softly, her eyes fixed on her hands in her lap rather than risking a look at his face.

"So I'm allowed to know about the Stargate, but not this?" Oh yeah, he was angry.

"There are a number of things that are above your classification level." That hurt to say. He had been so excited when she told him what she did, and now she had to admit she was still hiding things. "In this case, there was this ceremony we had to complete to finalize the treaty. It required a man and a woman from each side of the treaty, and only in legend were there any complications." Sam paused, snorting softly. "Of course, it's not legend now. Something embedded in their temple, probably some alien tech though they won't let us look at it, can induce some kind of telepathic link."

"You?" Sam nodded. "And who?"

"General O'Neill." Sam glanced up through her eyelashes at Pete, seeing his hands clench to fists in his lap and his face settle into a scowl. "We didn't even notice until our brain wave patterns registered as different when we went through medical on our return."

"So you and O'Neill are permanently stuck in each other's heads?" Pete sounded utterly disgusted, and Sam was terrified she'd lost him, just like that.

"Oh, no. It's more like the ability to have a phone call without the phone." Not entirely accurate, but a better description, at least for explaining the matter to her fiancé, if he still wanted to be that. "Usually, if I'm ready, I can just ... keep doing what I'm doing and talk at the same time. Unless I'm really focused. I was focused on you and the General startled me."

"Startled?" Pete started leaning towards her as he roared in anger. "You completely froze in the middle of making love. Then you pushed me away."

"I'm sorry. The situation was just ... awkward. I froze and that wasn't fair to you."

"You could have explained."

"It would have taken too long. There really was an emergency, or he never would have contacted me." She looked up, catching his eyes with her own and pleading with him to understand.

They sat in silence for several minutes. "Am I being a heel about this?" Sam breathed a soft sigh of relief. He was coming around.

"No. In fact, you're being rather reasonable. It's an odd situation. I talked to the General before I left and he said he's sorry and he won't contact me like that at home again. He'll have someone call if there is an emergency."

"And emergencies take precedence over private lives." Pete wasn't happy, but at the same time he didn't sound as angry as he did a moment before. "I suppose I have to respect that. But I'd appreciate if I were the only man on your mind at certain times."

"You are." She poured all her conviction into those two words, hoping she sounded more confident in their relationship than she was. She had been waffling since he proposed, but she wanted to be happy, deserved to be happy. Pete made her happy ... most of the time.

"Come here." He opened his arms to her, allowing her to curl up against him. It was a relief to be able to relax, the tense, emotional atmosphere already fading. "No more of this. Do what you have to do at work, but turn it off at home. Just be with me."

Part of her wanted to tense, to pull away, and she might have if her exhaustion hadn't caught up with her so fast. This was who she was, how she was. She could no more just 'turn it off' than she could stop having naquada in her blood. She should have known this would be a complication in any relationship she had. No, she knew it would be and just hadn't been willing to admit it. Anyone working for the SGC had trouble forming outside relationships. Why had she thought it would be so much easier just because Pete was a cop?