A/N: I can say with some certainty that I have NEVER been as sick in my whole life as I have been over the last few weeks. The 24-hour intestinal bug my children infected me with somehow mutated into a hellish super-virus once in my body. My doctor called it a "post-viral syndrome." Personally, I think "The Black Death" is a much better descriptor.

In any event, I'm once again eating solid foods. So, to celebrate, I sat down and wrote this next chapter.

Chapter 14

Sitting in his small, cluttered office, Daniel aimlessly shuffled the papers on his desk from one stack to another, not really paying attention to what he was doing. It had been three weeks since Sha're had begun spending much of her time with him both on- and off-base. At first, there had been considerable tension between them, but with the help of Sam's irrepressible cheerfulness, even that had slowly dissipated. Now, his outings with his former wife were friendly, comfortable, and undeniably pleasant. Though she'd made little, if any progress in retrieving lost memories, she was certainly making headway in living like a fairly normal American woman. Sam had initiated her in the ways of shopping, makeup, and cable TV, resulting in Sha're's immersion in modern pop culture. All in all, she seemed to be adapting perfectly.

He ought to be elated.

He wasn't.

"You know, I'd never claim to be an expert in all that ancient, historical mumbo-jumbo you study, but I think you might want to take another look at what you're doing there."

Jack's dry, somewhat amused voice brought Daniel sharply out of his reverie. Blinking, he glanced down at his desk. Much to his embarrassment, he'd just placed a classified document about an archaeological dig on P4X-773 on top of a stack of Sha're's Victoria's Secret catalogs. "Oh, good grief," he muttered, flushing slightly.

Unable to stifle a grin, Jack shook his head slightly. "Seems to me you've got it pretty bad, Danny-Boy."

Not sharing Jack's amusement, Daniel leveled a dark glare across his desk. "Don't you have work to do, or something?"

Unwilling to let his friend's mood dampen his own, Jack just shrugged. "Probably. But this is much more fun." Looking around the general chaos that perpetually inhabited Daniel's office, he finally found a sturdy-looking crate in one corner. Pulling the heavy box beside the cluttered desk, he sat down comfortably, making it very clear he wasn't going anywhere. After a moment, he let some of his amusement slip away. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

Seeing the concern on his long-time friend's face, Daniel felt some of his annoyance disappear. "I don't think talking about it is going to help," he mumbled grimly.

Jack nodded. That was certainly a sentiment he'd felt in his own heart on many occasions. "Still," he added quietly, "it can't hurt either." A lesson he'd learned from his lovely wife.

Daniel smiled faintly, also hearing Sam's attitude in Jack's words. "You're a changed man, you know that?"

Rolling his eyes, Jack nodded again. "Don't I ever. I used to wake up in the middle of the night because my knees were screaming." He smiled. "Turns out my knees were significantly quieter than a pair of hungry babies."

Daniel chuckled, imagining his friend stumbling out of bed for a 2-o'clock feeding. Seeing the underlying satisfaction on Jack's face, though, convinced him that these changes were deeply welcomed. "You love it," he said, no hint of a question in his voice.

Unable to deny the statement, Jack's expression took on a faraway look as he replied. "Beats the hell out of what I'd pictured my life being." After a moment, he turned his intense gaze back to his friend. "But we're not talking about me."

Smiling wryly, Daniel sighed deeply. "What do you want to know?" Jack's wordless, intense stare never wavered. He simply sat on the crate, silently waiting for Daniel to vent his frustrations.

After a few moments, the archaeologist caved. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand through his already-tousled hair. "I had no idea this was going to be so difficult." When he opened his eyes, the torment in their blue depths was obvious. "Every minute we spend together reminds me of why I married her in the first place," he admitted quietly. "I'm constantly bombarded by memories of our life together…" Trailing off, he took a slow, pained breath. "Which, of course, she has absolutely no recollection of." He winced. "To her, I'm just this really nice guy who takes her off of the base."

Jack regarded his friend solemnly. "And to you, she's the woman you married and shared a life with."

Daniel returned Jack's gaze with a hopeless expression. "I'm going crazy," he mumbled.

Seeing the despair in Daniel's gaze, Jack couldn't help feel sympathy for his friend. "You talked to Sam about this?" he asked quietly. "She's much better at these relationship things than I am."

Daniel couldn't help smiling at that admission. "Jack," he said lightly, "Teal'c is better at 'these relationship things' than you are."

"Very funny," Jack replied dryly. "But I'm serious. You should talk to her. She and Sha're are thick as thieves these days. They're doing all these girl things together," he said with a disbelieving note in his voice. "My wife actually had a pedicure last week."

Laughing at the puzzled expression on Jack's face, Daniel shook his head. "She is a girl, Jack. You've just forgotten how much of that sort of thing she and Janet used to do together." His smile took on a warmer quality at the mention of their old comrade. "Sam had to miss that."

Jack seemed surprised by the thought. "I never thought of it that way."

Daniel shrugged. "I'm just glad Sha're has someone she can turn to."

Across the desk, Jack's lined features took on an intense, knowing expression. "She can turn to you," he said simply.

Sighing, Daniel acknowledged his friend's insight with a faint smile. "Always."

Jack nodded. "Just don't give up." He gazed steadily at his friend as he spoke. "Wasn't too long ago I thought I'd be an old, bitter, retired general with no family and a boatload of regrets." Quirking one corner of his mouth up, his dark eyes reflected ageless wisdom. "Don't underestimate the power of 'always,' Daniel."

Sam took a large bite of her Caesar salad, relishing both the flavor and the unfamiliar sensation of eating without a baby on her lap. She had enlisted Sarah's aid for the morning so she and Sha're could go out for some shopping and lunch. She couldn't quite squelch the tiny bubble of guilt she felt for leaving the twins so she could have some R&R, but the stress-free hours were still undeniably welcomed.

Sha're watched her friend across the table, smiling warmly. "You are feeling bad for leaving Jonathan and Janelle," she said knowingly.

Sam swallowed her bite of salad and winced slightly. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, looking sheepish.

The dark-haired woman shook her head reassuringly. "Only because I've seen the look before." She reached over and patted Sam's hand. "You should not feel this way, Samantha. This morning was not only a great help to me, but also a much-needed break for you." She eyed her new friend meaningfully. "I know that you feel you must do everything, but it is okay to take a break."

Sam laughed. "That's exactly what Sarah said when I asked her to watch the twins."

Sha're nodded and picked up her sandwich. "I'm sure she was very happy to take them for a few hours. She is always so excited to see them."

Reflecting on the other woman's words, Sam felt a brief flash of sadness. Softly, she acknowledged the simple truth. "She loves children."

Seeing the subtle shift in Sam's mood, Sha're stopped eating for a moment. "What is it, Sam?"

Looking across the table, Sam couldn't help be amazed at the woman's acute perceptiveness. Over the past few weeks, Sha're had continually shown herself to be both sensitive and wise in the ways of human relationships. It was no wonder Daniel had been so smitten with her. Glad to have someone to share her feelings with, Sam quietly admitted her thoughts. "I just can't help feeling badly sometimes. Sarah is such a wonderful friend and she's been through so much in her life."

Sha're's gaze missed none of the emotions flickering in Sam's eyes. "You feel guilty that you have a happy family with Jack when she lost hers." Sam's gaze fluttered to the table, confirming the statement without words. Sha're sighed. "Sam, you cannot feel responsible for this. Terrible things happen sometimes," she said quietly. "We must make the best of what remains and go on. You and Jack have done this. You should rejoice in that, not feel badly."

Sam released a soft breath. "I know," she said quietly. "But it still makes me sad to know she's lost so much when I've been so fortunate."

Sha're nodded with understanding. "But when you share your children with her, you give her joy. That is a gift of friendship, Samantha."

Shaking her head, Sam met her new friend's dark eyes with a look of admiration. "You're really something," she said with a smile. "How'd you get to be so smart?"

At that, Sha're laughed musically. "I find it quite funny that you would call me smart," she chuckled.

Sam waved her hand dismissively. "Astrophysics is easy compared to relationships," she asserted. "That's probably why Dr. Phil makes five times as much money as I do."

Still grinning, Sha're immediately understood the reference. Dr. Phil was one of her favorite TV shows. "Wisdom and insight are indeed precious commodities," she agreed. "Where I come from, these qualities are also highly valued." She was careful not to mention her planet by name, nor make any references to classified information when out in public. "Still, I find myself lacking them in my own situation."

Sam's eyes registered disbelief. "Sha're, you could give Dr. Phil lessons," she insisted.

The other woman sighed deeply and began to look somewhat melancholy. "It is much easier to see the truth when it applies to someone else," she said softly.

Sam reached over the table and squeezed her friend's hand. "Are you worried about Daniel?" she asked gently.

Not meeting Sam's eyes, Sha're shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Samantha," she began hesitantly. "I… I have a confession to make." Slowly looking up, her gaze reflected a combination of fear and guilt. "I have not been entirely honest with you and your colleagues."

Both intrigued and a bit worried, Sam kept her expression warm and open. Whatever her friend was about to admit, she would try to be supportive. Surely the enormous upheaval in her life could excuse at least most infractions. Sam held firmly to Sha're's hand. "Go ahead," she said gently.

Taking a deep breath, the dark-haired woman seemed to gather her courage. "I know I was supposed to record every new memory in my journal so that General O'Neill could review them."

Sam nodded. When Doctor Brightman had suggested the current course of treatment for Sha're, there had been some concern about monitoring Sha're's progress. It had been Sam's idea that she keep a journal which would be confidentially reviewed by Jack and Dr. Brightman for any items of potential significance.

Seeing the kind understanding on her friend's face, Sha're continued. "Samantha," she said quietly, "I must admit that I have not written all of my memories down. I know you stressed how important it was to record all of the things I remember, because even the smallest details could be significant. I know this is true, but I have left a few of my memories out of my writings." Looking beseechingly into Sam's eyes, she spoke with a quiet urgency. "Please do not be mad, Sam. I did not mean to hinder your research. I feel badly for not being as helpful as possible."

Sam blinked. "Sha're, you shouldn't feel pressured to provide a certain type of memory. No one expects you to remember piles of information with military significance. We just want to know what triggers your recollection."

Sha're nodded reluctantly. "I understand, but the things I've left out… They're of a personal nature." Seeing Sam's blank expression, she cleared her throat and tried again. "I've been remembering moments of my life with Daniel." Seeing that Sam still hadn't caught on, she forced herself to clarify. "My married life," she said, stressing the word so that there was no confusion about its very personal meaning.

Suddenly, Sam understood. Blushing furiously, she uttered a quiet "Oh!" of comprehension. Looking down at her salad, she and Sha're endured a few awkward moments of embarrassed silence. Then, without warning, Sam felt a smile spread across her face, in spite of her discomfort. After a moment, a small squeak of laughter escaped her throat.

Startled by Sam's unexpected show of humor, Sha're looked at her friend questioningly.

Overcome with mirth, Sam forced her words past an overwhelming urge to laugh. "I was just imagining what Jack's face would look like if he read that in Dr. Brightman's briefing report."

Sha're's brown eyes met Sam's blue ones, and suddenly the two women burst into peals of hysterical laughter.

Tears streamed down Sha're's face as she pictured that particular scenario. "He'd never be able to look at me again."

Sam, nearly doubled over with mirth, gasped for breath in between spasms of laughter. "Or Daniel either. He'd probably resign his commission!"

After a few long moments, during which the two women drew a fair number of odd looks from other customers, they finally were able to collect themselves. Considering Sha're's admission seriously, Sam did understand the problems such memories must present for her friend. "Sha're, why don't you tell Daniel about this?" Her gentle words were accompanied by a warm smile of support.

Looking very uncomfortable, Sha're sighed. "I do not want to burden him." She glanced at Sam, an expression of helplessness in her eyes. "He has likely moved on with his life. I don't want him to pretend to feel things for me which he has long since put away. I would not have his pity," she admitted, a hint of pride in her words.

Sam met Sha're's gaze steadily. "I think you need to trust him," she insisted kindly. "Daniel will be honest with you, whatever his feelings are." She smiled. "He respects you too much to do anything else."

Sha're bit her lip indecisively. "I will consider your advice," she murmured.

Suddenly, Sam grinned. "In the meantime, I would strongly suggest you not include your most recent memories in your journal." Chuckling, she shook her head. "I'll make sure Dr. Brightman has some idea of your predicament without killing my husband."

With that, the two women once again broke into unrestrained giggles.