The next morning after a restless night that equaled a lack of sleep, Sam arrived at her commanding officer's house early. Teal'c answered her timid knock.

"Good morning, Major Carter. How do you fare this morning?"

She smiled. "Fine, thanks. I'm here to relieve you of duty."

Teal'c nodded. "You may enter."

Daniel walked out of the living room. "Well, let's change this guard." He muttered, sleepily.

She smiled. "Has the Colonel had breakfast yet?"

"He has not awoken to the best of my knowledge." Teal'c replied.

"Okay. Bye."

Daniel yawned as he walked out the door. "Bye."

She closed the door after watching her friends drive off. Now it was just the Colonel, herself, and her haunting past. "I'd better just face the memories." She said, under her breath. So, she reached for the waffle iron that she'd seen in the Colonel's kitchen and began cooking.

As her spoon flew around the bowl for the umpteenth time, she could feel Jonathan sweep her hair from the nape of her neck and begin to kiss it, snaking his arms around her waist.

She closed her eyes in painful recollection. It was so painful in fact that she very nearly sent the batter down the drain. But even as tears stained her cheeks, she continued. She would make breakfast for another man the way she had made it for him: Belgian waffles with strawberries, whipped cream, and a mint leaf on top, freshly-squeezed orange juice, and her scrambled eggs with chunks of ham.

She could hear his deep, baritone voice in her ear: Oh what a beautiful morning! Oh what a beautiful you! I've got a beautiful fee-ling tha-at you love me too!

She would have laughed and corrected him playfully, but instead she continued pouring the batter onto the hot iron, refusing to be deterred by the demons. Next, she expertly cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl, throwing in a pinch of this and a dash of that.

The first waffle was finished. She placed it onto a plate to cool as she poured the egg batter into a small skillet on the stove. With each step, the memories kept haunting her: his lips softly caressing her neck, the heat of his breath on her ear, and the way his arms locked protectively around her waist as she made breakfast.

It had been one week from heaven that had ruined her life. As she placed each plate, glass and utensil on the tray, a tear slid down her cheek. "Good-bye, Jonathan. Good-bye, my Phantom." She whispered before picking up the tray and going in to her commanding officer.