Jack awoke to the smell of his favorite breakfast. But this had him somewhat concerned. Daniel could not cook to save his life, Carter didn't cook…anymore, and Teal'c…well, Teal'c preferred to cook the traditional dishes of Chulak. Therefore, none of his team members could have prepared anything like the Belgian waffles, scrambled eggs and orange juice-unless Sam had remembered- without burning his kitchen to the ground. It was either that or someone like Janet Fraiser had taken over their care-taking responsibilities. Needless to say, Jack was afraid for his life.

"Daniel! If you burn down my kitchen, so help me!" He yelled.

The slim figure of his second-in-command came in, a timid smile plastered on her face to hide her tear-stained cheeks. "Sorry, sir. I sent Daniel and Teal'c home already."

Damn, he thought. She had remembered. "Nothin' to be sorry about, Carter. So, I can assume my kitchen is safe?"

She gave a small smile as she nodded. "I brought breakfast, sir."

He saw the fare and it made his heart pound with fear. "What? No froot loops?"

The smile on her face tightened as though she was trying to keep from crying. Damn, he'd done it again. "I just thought you might like something different from your base breakfasts, sir."

"Oh, well…in that case, bring it on over, Carter!" He ordered, teasingly.

"Yes, sir." She said, walking over and laying the tray on his lap.

"I'm sorry if I upset you yesterday." He said as he watched her. "I have a tendency to ramble when I'm on painkillers. And I forgot to preface this with what happens on vicodin stays on vicodin. Apparently, I never forget to tell Daniel. Go figure."

"It wasn't you, sir. It was just that…yesterday brought up a few buried demons, that's all." He mentally slapped his forehead. Yesterday had been the twentieth anniversary of their closing performance. He had been so stupid not to remember it.

"Now, I need to see you take your medication after a few bites of breakfast. Then, I can work on those reports General Hammond asked for." She said, back to business.

"I thought you were on leave."

"Unfortunately, sir, I need more than a musical to distract me today." She said, a distinctly sad note in her voice.


She stared at the blank Word document, seemingly unable to type any of her reports. She had made her peace with Jonathan, hadn't she?. He was probably married, and probably expected her to be as well. So, why wasn't she able to let him go?

Suddenly, an image of Pete came into her mind. She closed her eyes in humiliation. Why hadn't he come to the foreground of her thoughts beforehand? He was, after all, her boyfriend.

She groaned. She hadn't thought about him at all. She had thought about Jack. Not Pete, not Narim, not Jonas, not Martouf, not Orlin, and not Colonel O'Neill. She had thought about Jack.

She placed her head in her hands in despair. Now, she had to worry about how to let Pete down gently. "When it rains, it pours, I guess." She muttered to herself.

"CARTER!"

She stood and walked toward the Colonel's room. Maybe it was time to take their feelings out of the Iso room.

A strong, baritone voice floated, hauntingly through the halls. It was so familiar, and yet…so different. Maturity had added a richness and depth that couldn't have been reproduced. "Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a beautiful you! I have a beautiful fee-ling, tha-at you love me too!"

She froze, her heart pounding. It wasn't possible. This was most certainly one of the cruelest jokes that the gods had ever played on her. Jonathan was not- could not- be her irresistible commanding officer. Praying that it was all just a hallucination, she forced herself to walk into the Colonel's room. He reached for her hand and kissed it, giving her that smile that had, and always would, make her weak at the knees. Suddenly, she could see Jonathan's features in her commanding officer's features. "Christine! You remembered!" He said before closing his eyes.

A sob broke from the depths of her soul as she flew out of his room. Before she even knew what she was doing, she was on her cell phone, calling Daniel. She had almost reached the car, leaving everything behind except her keys and phone.

"Hello?"

"Daniel?" She choked out between sobs.

The archaeologist started worrying. "Sam, is everything okay? Is Jack okay?"

She took several deep breaths, trying to control the racking sobs that were plaguing her. "I need to leave. Can you or Teal'c-?"

"Jack's okay? Yes, we can come and stay with him. What is it? Pete? Mark?"

She didn't answer, just shut the phone and got in her car. As she started it, Jack reached the door. "Carter!" He yelled, a little more coherent than he had been before.

She drove off without acknowledging his call. He tried to get down the stairs on his crutches, but his elevated heart rate forced the vicodin to hit him full-force more quickly. Before reaching the final step, he crashed to the ground, unconsciousness claiming him.