A/N—two chapters today as they're both extremely short.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

7

Sam let her bag drop onto the futon, running a hand through her shoulder length hair. What had gotten into her? Not only did she cry all over Jack, she'd been sitting in his truck, waiting for him to kiss her good-night. Perhaps she could blame it on her loneliness, and connecting with him had relieved some of that. She had to remember, he didn't know her, and her repeated acts of familiarity were off-putting to say the least. It bothered him she knew things about him, the same as it had irked her the first time she'd met herself from another reality. If anyone could relate to the "weirdness" of the situation, it should be her.

Well, the point was probably moot. She doubted she'd ever see or hear from Jack O'Neill from this reality again. Why should she? She'd woven a tale he wanted no part of and didn't believe. Since he had no connection to the SGC or it's counter-part, or the military, there was no reason she needed him.

Unfortunately, that wasn't entirely true. She'd had a good time, and it had nothing to do with the fact he'd let her ramble on about coming from a different universe. She'd enjoyed being in his company.

Of course she'd never been on a date with the Colonel in her reality, and this evening had felt like an illicit pleasure. The chance to see what he was like without the uniform. The scary part was, she liked what she'd seen, and since she was already half in love with her colonel, it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. She needed to remember this wasn't her Jack, and it was unfair to both of them to pretend he was.

Sighing, Sam stood and checked her computer. No new e-mail that had any actual relevance. There were plenty of catalog companies vying for her patronage, but nothing of real value. Why she thought there would be, she didn't know.

She began fixing herself a cup of tea, knowing she needed to find a way to slow her mind down if she was ever going to get some sleep. While the water heated, she converted the futon into her bed, trying to clear her mind from all the questions. What should her next move be? Should she be giving up? Accept the fact she was stuck here and work at moving on? Maybe she should go back to school to get accreditation in this reality so she could become an astrophysicist again. Maybe she should look into the military? That probably wasn't going to work. She was too old to be starting over again, and just because she'd tell them she'd been a Major, she had no proof.

The tea pot whistled and she turned to the stove, picking up the kettle and pouring boiling water over the bag. The aroma was already starting to relax her, and she looked forward to savoring the cup. Sitting on the edge of her bed, sipping the hot liquid, she tried to empty her mind. She was fairly successful until snippets of the evening came back to her. The way Jack had smiled at her, the lame jokes that seemed such a part of his personality no matter which reality he was in. The way he looked when he talked about Charlie, how proud he was of his son. This was how the Colonel could have been, she thought, and it saddened her to think how grief had had such a profound effect on him.

Changing into her nightwear, Sam climbed between the sheets, hoping sleep would come soon, because before she knew it, the alarm would be going off, heralding another day in Bizzaro World.

XXXXXX

Jack pulled up to his house, relieved the only light was coming from the porch and the nightlight in the entryway. He didn't want to face Charlie's questions and jibes right now. Mostly because he didn't know how he'd answer him. How was his date? Good, he reasoned. What did you talk about? How life was similar and different at the same time where she came from. Where was that? Second reality to the right and straight on 'till morning. He had to joke about it to himself to wrap his head around it.

Climbing from his truck, he fiddled with the key chain as he took a seat on the porch swing. He'd had a nice time. It certainly beat grading papers while some sports event droned on in the background. It was also refreshing to talk to someone out of the school system. To remember there was more to life than inattentive students and gossip in the teacher's lounge. Other than her whacky story, they hadn't touched on too many different subjects, but he could sense she could probably converse on a great many topics. She hadn't been offended by his off-beat sense of humor. In fact she "got" him more than most people who'd known him for years.

Bottom line was, he liked her. It was more than just the fact he found her attractive. There was something else there that intrigued him. Made him want to call her up even now to tell her what an enjoyable evening it had turned out to be. Could he do that? Just pick up the phone and call her so the last sound he heard was her voice? No. Too pushy. Maybe he could do coffee in the morning, though. Sure. Show up at the diner before school for some coffee and conversation. People did that. He wouldn't class them as friends, exactly, but it could become that.

With renewed energy, Jack stood, tossing his keys into the air and deftly catching them. Yup, coffee. A mere six hours from now. . . .