When they returned from Vis Uban, she practically skipped into the infirmary with the book in her hand. A few years ago, she'd dog-eared a page titled, "Who's your mummy?" anticipating she'd get to work on it with Daniel eventually. But the last time he had been in the infirmary, it was with absolute certainty he had received a lethal dose of radiation. So, she'd thrown the book away.

When she'd found it stuffed inside the cover of her requisition log a few weeks later, she was angry at first, almost ripped it to shreds. But then she'd opened it, and it read like a scrapbook of her life since she'd been on SG-1. She was thankful he'd saved it, surmised it was probably the day he'd come lamely asking for a ruler, which he'd left on her work table without borrowing. She'd put the book in a drawer for safekeeping and now she had it in her hand as she rounded the corner into the infirmary. Daniel's eyes met hers with ten percent more recognition than he'd had when they'd found him.

"Hey, Samantha." It sounded funny. At least he was trying out her first name rather than her title. She didn't remind him again that he called her Sam, figured he'd face a lot of correction in the days ahead.

"Hey, Daniel, how are you feeling?"

"Like a lab experiment. Dr. Frasier insists on running every test."

"Yeah, that sounds like Janet." She used her name with intent, to remind him of his familiarity with their friend. She saw a spark in his eye and a smile, followed by a faraway look.

"Hey, I brought you something."

He sat up straighter as she handed him the book. He eyed it curiously.

"A used crossword book?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to the Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll puzzle, partially completed in his handwriting. She noticed a flicker of recognition. He pointed to a spot on the page.

"Is that blood?" he asked.

She leaned in. Then snorted. "No, that's a red M&M stain."

"Oh." He looked at her and then back at the page, wheels turning. "I like M&M's." She nodded.

"And I apparently like bad 80's music?"

"Hey, I won't judge if you won't." She winked. Then turned to the archaeology puzzle and let him read the title.

"That's a good joke," he said, with more enthusiasm than he'd displayed since they'd found him.

She rolled her eyes again. Daniel was still in there somewhere.

They worked a few clues amidst the hustle and bustle of the infirmary, interrupted a few times for routine questions and tests. Some of the clues, like King Tut, were more common knowledge that he seemed to vaguely possess, as if ascension and amnesia didn't wipe out the collective pop culture unconscious. Or else Oma had left behind some pathways for him to follow. Other clues she had to prompt him for, but he seemed to know more than someone who wasn't an archaeologist, so she was hopeful. They were halfway through the puzzle when Jack showed up to relieve her.

"Hey, kids, having fun?" He asked as he entered. She noticed he walked lighter now that Daniel was back. She looked at Daniel, who was still a little skittish but less so than when they'd found him, then back at the Colonel.

"Yes, sir."

Daniel looked at her and whispered. "Am I supposed to call him sir, too?"

At the same time Sam said, "Please don't," Jack said, "Yes."

Daniel eyed them each in turn. "So, no, then," he said.

Sam nodded and patted his arm. "I'll see you later, Daniel."

"Bye, Sam."

And it was like music to her ears.

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When she dropped by after lunch, she was met with the sight of her entire team hunched over the puzzle she had left with Daniel.

"Daniel Jackson, I believe the answer to sixteen across is 'Balk.'"

Daniel took the book from Teal'c and scanned the page.

"Oh, so it is." He wrote in the letters as Jack leaned over to read.

"And twenty down is midden," Jack offered.

Daniel looked at the next clue and tapped each box, counting. "That fits."

Jack nodded, as though it were the most obvious answer.

Sam eyed the exchange suspiciously. "Hey guys, what's up?"

"Just helping Daniel with his puzzle," Jack answered casually, without making eye contact. She caught Teal'c's eye instead.

"Indeed. We have placed a reasonable wager on the endeavor."

Jack sat up straight when Teal'c revealed their secret. "Teal'c, not cool, man."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Jack attempted to mitigate.

"We just thought if a little bet was involved, it might motivate him to remember more."

She wasn't buying it. "Guys, really? You're terrible." She turned to Daniel. "They're terrible, and you shouldn't be friends with them." Then she looked down and noticed something resting on Jack's legs, hidden under a jacket.

"You've got one of Daniel's books! That's cheating!"

"How else are we supposed to know what the...uh," he read from the puzzle, "Analysis of the order and position of archaeological layers is?"

"Stratigraphy," she answered.

He looked her up and down. "And we're sure you're human?"

She snatched the book from his lap.

He pretended to be unaffected and leaned over the crossword page again to read. "Well, hey, I can at least answer this last one without any help. It's pot shard."

"Potsherd," Daniel said automatically. Jack scoffed.

"Same thing. And it fits either way."

"Actually, a shard is more appropriate for glass fragments, while sherds specifically refer to pottery." Daniel looked up to see three pairs of eyes on him. He continued, "Some things are coming back to me." He looked at Sam. "And you're right. I shouldn't be friends with them."

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In true Daniel form, he was in danger again only months later. Jack said he'd bring him back and he had. Unfortunately, a week after Daniel's rescue from Honduras, he was in the infirmary with dengue, which he contracted from his time in the jungle. After a few days of high fever, he was on the mend, but Janet had insisted he remain in the infirmary one more day. His team arrived together to check on him.

"Hey Daniel, Janet said you were feeling a lot better today." Sam sat next to his bed.

"Yeah, it felt like the worst case of flu I've ever had, but I'll take it if it means I don't have to be locked in that shack anymore." There was a beat of silence, not necessarily awkward, but one their team often shared after they'd just barely made it back from a dangerous mission. Jack broke the silence first.

"Brought you something." He pulled the crossword book from his jacket, which evoked an incredulous look from its owner.

He felt his eyes on her. "What?"

She shook her head disapprovingly. "Well, last time you guys tried to wager him out of his first descension paycheck."

"Come on, a wager can be quite the motivator," he argued. The other half of their team just settled in to watch the exchange.

"Oh, really?" she countered.

"Yeah, like how I bet you can't finish a puzzle without help."

Daniel's mouth dropped open slightly at the challenge and lack of formality. Teal'c's reaction was considerably more subtle, but Daniel caught the slightly upturned corner of his mouth threatening to turn into a grin.

Sam stood up from her chair and into Jack's personal space. "Oh, you do, huh? What's the wager?"

"I pick a puzzle and if you can finish it in say, one week, I'll buy the whole team dinner. And if you don't, you have to buy all of us dinner." He waggled his eyebrows.

Sam looked at their audience members for confirmation. "What do you think, guys?"

"Hey, we get to eat either way, so I say go for it," Daniel offered.

"Indeed."

She nodded, didn't retreat from her position. "So, what are the rules?"

That threw Jack off guard. He hadn't really planned to make this challenge. He was making it up as he went along. He sputtered for a moment before starting to number things off with his fingers.

"Okay, well...you can't ask anyone for help." Another finger, "You can't use any references." He stopped to think. "Or your fancy search database thingies," he said, making a vague motion with his hand.

She kept at him. "What if I stumble across the answer?"

"What do you mean? "

"Okay, like how we finished the last Indiana Jones clue because Siler randomly quoted it that day."

Daniel piped up then. "You guys did an Indiana Jones puzzle without me?"

"You were unconscious," Jack said dismissively. Then continued, trying to sound official, "Okay, if you read, hear or otherwise encounter the answer without looking for it, I won't disqualify you."

Sam looked incredulous, mouthed to Daniel, "Disqualify me?" She picked up the book and handed it to Jack.

He looked offended. "No, no, those puzzles are tainted. I'm going to pick a really good one for you."

She huffed at that and glared at him. They stared off for a few seconds, before Daniel interrupted.

"You did an Indiana Jones puzzle without me?"

She patted his arm in consolation.

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Later that day, an airman arrived at her lab with an official inter-department delivery envelope. She eyed it curiously before signing it. She opened it and pulled out two sheets of paper. One was a crossword puzzle with the title, "Animation Amalgamation."

"Cartoons, fantastic," she muttered. The airman squinted his eyes. She waved it off and looked at the other sheet of paper, which contained a single phrase in his characteristic scrawl.

"Bring it on, Alice."

She smirked and picked up the pen, then hurriedly wrote a reply and stuffed it in the envelope.

"Could you deliver this for me?" She held it out to the airman, who, to his credit, took it with a professional poker face.

"Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am." A smile at the corner of his mouth told her he knew he was being used as a pawn in some kind of classified game.

"You're a good sport," she offered.

"Thank you, ma'am, I try."

The airman navigated the halls of the SGC to where he suspected Colonel O'Neill might have wandered to, considering the day's menu. He found him in the commissary eating a piece of chocolate cake. He approached carefully.

"Excuse me, sir, I have the message you were expecting."

Jack ushered the airman in and took the envelope. "Thank you, that'll be all," he said as he slid a challenge coin across the table with a smirk. The airman took it and pocketed it, trying not to let his elation show.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Once alone, Jack opened the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper he had sent. Below his message, it read:

"You're going down, Hatter."