A/N—I'm anxious to get to chapter 5, so today is bonus day ;-)!

Disclaimer in chapter 1

4

Sam had her back to the counter as she prepared another coffee filter for brewing. She knew she had a customer before they asked for coffee, but when she heard his voice, she hesitated turning around to wait on him.

She didn't want a scene. He probably didn't either, but she was unsure of what to say to him. She'd given up thinking he was going to give her a chance to explain further, and had taken a job waitressing to help get her finances under control. Besides helping her make ends meet, it left her afternoons free to continue searching for a way back to where she belonged.

Taking a fortifying breath, Sam turned around, coffee pot in one hand, a heavy china cup in the other. "Of all the coffee joints in all the world, you walk into mine."

Jack looked up from his paper, clearly shocked to see her standing before him. So. This wasn't him trying to find a way to re-open their dialog. It was serendipity or just plain bad luck, depending on your point of view. Sam poured him a cup of coffee and slid the sugar container next to him, watching to see if he'd comment on the fact she knew how he took his coffee.

Jack looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. She'd always felt like she was in costume at the diner, and from the look on his face, he thought the same thing. The pink, close-fitting polyester dress and white apron was straight out of the fifties, but she matched the decor, which was trying to emulate the same decade.

He was speechless for a minute, then said, "I didn't know you were a waitress. You didn't mention that was part of exploring other planets."

Sam felt her face flushing. Her current appearance didn't lend any credibility to what she'd told him the last time they met. "I wasn't a waitress the last time I saw you, but a girl's gotta eat."

"Not here, I hope."

"You'd be surprised. The food's quite good."

"So I hear. Actually, it's why I'm here. I'm meeting a colleague and she recommended the place."

"Is that her?" Sam asked, nodding towards the door. Jack turned to see who'd entered as he gathered his paper and stood. "That's her." Looking around, he spotted an open booth in the back. "Is it okay if we move there? It's a little easier to talk."

"Suit yourself," Sam said, grabbing another cup. As the couple was settling in the booth, Sam poured coffee for the woman. "'Morning, Kerry," she said, smiling and placing the cup before her.

"Hey, Sam," she smiled in return. Kerry Johnson was a regular, and she liked the woman. She seemed passionate about her career and the kids she taught.

"Strange to see you on a weekend," Sam said, sliding menus in front of them. She suspected Kerry didn't need one, but Jack was still looking around the diner trying to acclimate himself.

"Yeah. Jack and I have a student in common who's having some difficulties, so we thought we'd put our heads together and see if there was some way we could maybe get him back on the right track."

Sam gave Jack a genuine smile. He'd always had such a big heart where kids were concerned. He seemed a bit embarrassed by the attention he was receiving, squirming in his seat.

"So what's good?" he inquired, glancing back and forth between the women. When Kerry didn't offer a suggestion, Sam stepped in.

"Huevos rancheros is the specialty."

Jack handed his menu back to her. "Huevos it is. Over medium."

Sam looked at Kerry. "The usual?" She nodded and Sam scribbled the order. "I'll be back with some cream."

Heading to the kitchen, she looked back at the couple in the booth. She couldn't see Jack's face, but Kerry was clearly excited, and there was a decidedly interested look about her eyes. She had crush on Jack, that much was obvious, and she idly wondered if it was reciprocated. Judging from his posture, Sam thought he seemed reserved, and was unaccountably reassured the feelings didn't seem to be mutual. Looking up at the clock, she noticed it was nine. The second rush of the morning was about to start and she didn't have any more time to devote to the study of Jack and Kerry.

Coming back around to check on their meal and to top off coffee, Sam tried not to eavesdrop, but allowed herself a glance at Jack. She couldn't deny she still missed him, even if he wanted nothing to do with her.

She'd resolved to not approach him again after the reaction he'd had nearly two months ago now. She now walked home by a different, if longer route, so she didn't pass Charlie's school, and didn't shop at the store where she'd first seen Jack. Truth be told, his threat of a restraining order had scared her. Not because she was doing anything wrong, but because of her assumed identity. She really was Samantha Carter-her DNA would prove that-but she was supposed to be dead. She didn't know how she would explain that to the authorities.

Sam felt Jack's gaze on her as he held his cup up for a refill. She knew that look. He was assessing her and she wondered how she was faring. So far her presence hadn't seemed to bother him overly much; he hadn't told Kerry they should talk somewhere else. Maybe he'd decided to write her off as some kook with an over active imagination and move on.

Kerry held her hand over her cup when Sam offered. "No thanks. I have to go. Saturdays are when I can catch up on my errands. Thanks for meeting me Jack. Maybe between the two of us we can help Aaron." She hesitated a bit, giving Jack a chance to join her, but when he didn't stand, she smiled and bid them both farewell.

Sam was turning away when Jack touched her lightly on the arm. "Got a minute?"

Surprised, Sam set the coffee pot down on the table and slid into the booth opposite him. "Yeah, I can take a break."

She nodded at Jill, the other waitress, who seemed to understand she was off the floor. Sam waited for Jack to speak, but he didn't seem to know what to say. "So, what's up?" she prompted.

Playing with the salt shaker, Jack looked at her from under his brows. "I, uh, wanted to apologize for the other day."

"The other day?"

"The whole restraining order thing," he clarified. "I kind of jumped to conclusions."

"Well, it was a little longer than the other day," she said, leaning back into the cracked, red vinyl of the booth. "Look, Jack, I don't want you, or Charlie for that matter, to think I'm stalking you or something. You obviously think I'm crazy and won't listen to what I have to tell you with an open mind, so, I'm over it," she said with a shrug. "I'm just

plain ol' Samantha Carter, retro diner waitress extraordinaire."

She realized that admission stung. She wasn't Major Samantha Carter any more. Savior of the planet, re-writer of the law of physics. She couldn't claim an affiliation to the Air Force, or prove she had a doctorate in astrophysics. She hadn't done that here. She had nothing to show she'd been educated. The Welcome Back Diner didn't care if she could build a naquadah generator. All her employers cared about was their customers getting hot food and their coffee cups didn't run dry. That is what Samantha Carter of this reality was capable of doing. So, that's what she did.

It didn't mean she had to like it. Sam didn't want to admit it, but she knew she was battling depression. She'd go back to her tiny apartment after her shift, continuing to work on a way to reverse what had happened to her. The reality of her situation was she was merely existing, and the longer she was here, the less likely she was to find a solution, and that thought was the most depressing of all.

"Well, I'm still sorry," Jack said, breaking into her musings.

"We didn't meet under ideal circumstances," she agreed. "I was so excited to see someone from my past. . . ." Sam realized she wasn't doing herself any favors by heading down that road again. "Someone I thought I knew," she amended, "that I got carried away."

"And I over reacted," he said.

Sam stood, her break over. "It was nice to meet you, Jack O'Neill," she said offering her hand to him. He accepted it and answered,

"Likewise." He took a breath then said, "Maybe we could try again?"

She gave him a big smile. "I'd like that," she said, writing her number down on her order pad. She tore off the sheet and handed it to him. "Call me."