Note: Takes place between Ch. 21 ("Pegasus") and Ch. 22 ("Connectivity") in Language of Love.

-Year 4 of Settlement-

Becky dips a corner of her handkerchief into the bucket of water and dabs gingerly at the cut on Daniel's cheek. Their captors haven't been gentle, and he bore the brunt of their violence.

This is the third kidnapping attempt offworld this month alone. It's getting old really fast.

"I'm so sorry," she says at length.

"There's no need to apologize. You weren't the one who beat me up."

"I know," draping the handkerchief over the bucket and sitting beside him on the stone floor. "But when I suggested this morning we have some quality time by ourselves I swear this wasn't what I had in mind."

He manages a chuckle. "Hardly my idea of a romantic venue either. At least they didn't put us in separate cells."

"Good point." Which is a consolation yet doesn't change the fact they're stuck in a jail cell halfway across the galaxy.

More like a cage, actually, vertical bars on three sides spaced just far enough apart to get hands through and not much else. An old-fashioned lantern similar to the ones Jack kept at the cabin in Minnesota for emergencies dangles from the ceiling. Going by the rugged stone and the narrow single window- also barred and well above even Daniel's reach- it's clear they're in some kind of basement or cellar. For the moment they're alone, a stout door between them and the guards in the antechamber shuffling about and conducting muted conversations.

Daniel links his hands behind his head, leaning against the wall. "Well, it could be worse."

"How?"

"I mean, as cells go this one's not bad at all. The mattresses are stuffed better than most and they even left us water. For that alone I'd give our accommodations four stars."

She smirks at his quip. "You know, you've become quite the connoisseur for an archaeologist. Maybe you guys should publish a tour guide to the galaxy's better prisons."

"We do seem to wind up in them more than any other team," he ruefully admits. "Jack's nickname for us was the 'Trouble Magnet Squad'."

"No doubt due to his winning personality."

"At least you don't automatically think it's my fault every time we get in trouble offworld."

"Of course not. I've read the reports from your missions pre-Zero Hour, and been on enough of them with you guys to know better. Your curiosity isn't the only factor, each one of you have had your moments. The universe is unpredictable and things just happen, that's all."

"So it boils down to wrong time, wrong place."

"Not always. Mac once said the only good thing about being a trouble magnet is it often lands you in the right position to help those who really need it."

His brow furrows. "You're saying we get in trouble for a reason?"

"Well, look at when you and Jack went to Abdyos for the first time. If you hadn't gotten caught up in that creature's reins and stumbled upon the Abdyonians you wouldn't have defeated Ra and the galaxy would still be under the collective thumb of the System Lords and their Jaffa. Hell, one of them might've eventually set their sights on Old Earth again, whose invasion we wouldn't have been able to stop if not for you and the SGC."

"Or finding a new homeworld before Old Earth destroyed itself-" checking himself at her involuntary wince. "Sorry."

"It's okay," ruthlessly shoving aside the memory of her Witnessing. "My point is, whether one stumbles upon trouble by accident or predestination doesn't matter. What does is meeting the challenge head on and coming up with solutions to overcome it."

"Sound advice." Daniel cocks his head at her, smiling faintly. "You know, you take after him a lot."

She gives an off-handed shrug. "I suppose. He's been a big influence in my life. I may not have his talent the same way but I do my best regardless. Only I never know if it's enough."

"It's more than enough, believe me. I couldn't imagine anyone better as a cellmate. And whatever happens tonight, I'm glad we're together," taking her hand and squeezing it.

She smiles, squeezing back. "So am I."

So the team record for imprisonment is holding steady, even with Becky along for the ride.

They had no reason whatsoever to suspect treachery from the people of P6F-218, known locally as Ixora. Around the galaxy it has a reputation for being friendly and welcoming to offworlders, and- like many other worlds formerly ruled by Anubis- very eager to form an alliance with New Earth. Almost absurdly so, in retrospect.

And what's more the invitation relayed by SG-9 requesting the presence of the esteemed General-Governor Jack O'Neill, the celebrated SG-1 and the illustrious Dr. Rebecca Grahme to view a weapons demonstration and a recently-discovered Ancient outpost had been worded so convincingly Daniel and Becky both believed it would be an insult to decline.

As Jack would later point out, that kind of flattery should've been their first clue something was squirrelly from the get-go.

Their welcoming committee greeted them profusely at the Gate and promptly escorted to Tramora, the nearest city and one they'd visited before for trade agreements with heads of the local government. At the town hall another official informed them the Lord Mayor and Regional Baron were in an emergency meeting and couldn't get away at the moment, suggesting the central chamber reserved for formal occasions would be a good location to await their presence. It turns out the galleries and deep arched alcoves were perfect hiding places for guards, who emerged soon as the double doors were closed with bows drawn, arrows nocked and ready to fire.

"Aw, hell," Jack complained, raising his hands in the air. "Carter, remind me never again to accept invites without calling ahead first?"

In the ensuing fracas Becky and Daniel had been separated from the others, stripped of their gear and weapons then bundled off to this basement in whatever building they're in now. It's likely they're still in the same city as they their travel time wasn't long.

There'd been a momentary chance earlier when they could've gotten away. Daniel wanted to take it but Becky smelled a set-up, warning him with a quick touch of two fingers on his right wrist in their private signal. She's used to curbing his impatience when it gets the better of him, which has saved the team from danger more than once.

So by unspoken agreement they switched tactics to what they do best. After convincing their captors to spill the beans it became clear all three kidnapping attempts were connected.

Apparently Ba'al- still furious over his failed bluff and subsequent humiliation in the first few days of Jack's tenure as General-Governor- has been sending representatives to likely worlds, offering a bounty on members of SG-1 in exchange for technological advancement and leaving off his plan of eventual galactic conquest. Combined with a recent leadership and policy change in local government the offer must've been too tempting to resist, providing sufficient incentive in constructing the perfect lure.

However, once the guards realized they'd said too much they weren't kind to their captives. Which has led to the current state of things.

Becky's face still smarts from a split lip and darkening bruise on her cheek, and Daniel- who really should know better than to mouth off and incite further pain- is sporting his own assortment of cuts and bruises. She longs to kiss him better but this is definitely not the most comfortable location for romance. Or particularly hygienic.

To make matters worse they have no idea if Jack or the others even survived the ambush, and if Ba'al is on his way they may already be running out of time. It's up to her and Daniel to make their own escape, getting through the city and reaching the Gate without anyone else the wiser.

Much easier said than done. But hey, at least they still have each other so it's not all bad.

Right?

Becky's legs are beginning to cramp. She stretches and stands, wiping her hands on her green field trousers.

Daniel looks at her, brow furrowed. "Something I said?"

"It's not you. I'm tired of sitting, that's all. Time to figure a way outta here." If Mac was her he'd surely have come up with an escape plan by now. As it is she'll just have to do what she can with what they have, which isn't much.

He silently watches her pacing and examining their cell, searching for some sign of vulnerability. Then he says out of the blue, "Sometimes I wonder if Jack's right after all. That it really is my fault for getting us in trouble all the time because I don't look before I leap."

She turns to him. "What are you talking about?"

"Even as a kid I blindly charged ahead in life, doing what I wanted without any regard for the consequences. Trying to save my parents and arriving too late. Seeking an elusive truth no one else believes, which sent Nick into a mental institution and ruined my academic career. As if by running I could escape everything wrong in my life- the failures, the betrayals, the losses."

Becky frowns. There's an underlying bitterness to his words she doesn't like, a deep and constant anger for perceived shortcomings and the capriciousness of the universe in general, an abiding despair for the lives that couldn't be saved no matter how hard he tried.

Feelings she's very familiar with herself.

Oh yes, she empathizes all too well with her raven. And also hates him a little, for being the perfect mirror of her soul.

Due to her own sensitive nature growing up the taunts and snubs from her peers had a disproportionately bigger influence on her self-image than her loving, supportive family, enough to convince herself she could never do anything right, never live up to anyone's high expectations much less her own. It took years to regain that sense of self-worth with the help of her uncles and good friends made along the way.

Not to mention the love and acceptance of Daniel himself, who is clearly slipping further and further into negativity with every word coming out of his mouth. "Maybe everyone would've been better off if Catherine hadn't recruited me in the first place. Or if I'd never discovered the seventh symbol. So many lives lost because of what I did. Kawalsky, Sarah, Sha're-"

Okay, that's enough. She needs to stop his brooding now before she gets caught up in it herself, trapped inside a mental prison neither can escape. With Ba'al on his way they can't afford to wallow in self-pity like this.

She crouches in front of him, cupping his face in her hands so he can't look away. "Dammit Daniel, listen to me! What you're saying is nonsense. You're human, and humans make mistakes. But opening the Stargate was never, ever, one of them. What happened to Kawalsky or Sarah wasn't your fault, and especially not to Sha're. That one's on Apophis and Amaunet, not you. You've done more good than harm with opening the Stargate. helped save lives on Old Earth, the settlement and other worlds multiple times using your knowledge and skills. I personally know of two you've saved in particular."

His brow furrows. "You do?"

"Sure. Jack, for one. You know he was in a really bad place after Charlie died, spiraling in self-pity to the point where a suicide mission seemed like a good idea, and damn that General West who suggested it. Going with you to Abdyos was the best thing he could've done for himself, as he'll tell you if he ever works up the courage. And then there's the second life, belonging to someone I love now more than anyone else in the universe."

"Who's that?"

Becky smiles. "You, silly. After the symposium when Catherine found you both your academic reputation and personal life were in tatters. But you overcame those losses, finding love, family and vindication for your unconventional theories in the process. And in case you forgot you're not the only one with survivor's guilt these days," she adds before he can muster a counterargument. "All of us have it, because we're alive and everyone else isn't. Come to think of it there's a third life you're saving, today and every day."

A lifted eyebrow is his only query.

She taps her chest. "Me. I was Witness to the literal end of the world, for crying out loud! I can't stop seeing the figurative blood on my hands or having nightmares as a result. But being with you is the best thing that could've happened to me. You're my rock, Daniel. Without you I'd surely have gone crazy."

"If you say so-" he begins dubiously.

"I know so, dammit!" Inwardly she counts to ten, takes a deep ragged breath and blinks away sudden tears. "My point is you and I both have this deep-seated compulsion to carry the weight of the galaxy on our shoulders, because of our compassion and sensitivity. It's a weakness, sure, but also a source of strength if applied correctly. Remember what Uncle Mac told me earlier? We need to judge ourselves not by our failures- whether actual or perceived- but rather how many times we pick ourselves up and keep on fighting. It's useless to look back on the past instead of moving forward, and I should know. So quit brooding and help me figure how to get outta here before Ba'al shows up. Okay?"

Daniel can only blink at her, absorbing her words. Then tenderly cups her face in turn, bringing her close for a long and deep kiss. "Thank you," he says softly.

"For what?"

"For being you." He pulls away, unlacing and removing both of his boots.

Her brow furrows. "Was it something I said?"

"Side effect to being a connoisseur of jail cells," as he gently separates the heels just enough to extract a length of stiff wire from each, "is acquiring a few useful items along the way. Good thing I stashed these in here after the last time." Holding the wires between his teeth he putts the boots back on and ties the laces before crouching by the door, sticking his hands through the bars to work at the lock backwards.

It finally dawns on her what he's doing. "Where did you learn how to pick locks?"

"In foster care. Some of the older boys enjoyed playing nasty tricks on younger kids as well as ones like me by locking us in closets or bathrooms when the adults weren't around. A former street kid named Jason was kind enough to teach me one day, turned out I had a knack."

"I forgot you had the harder life as an orphan. I'm sorry." She'd been more fortunate with her solicitous uncles and Aunt Sara to fall back on as well as Mac's friends. Poor Daniel had nobody except his grandfather, if barely that.

He shrugs. "It's okay. I made peace with it a long time ago." Though the brief shadow crossing his face gives the lie to his words. He shakes his head. "Never mind. Give me a couple more minutes."

His brow furrows as he works the lock, muttering to himself under his breath, until the lock releases with a tiny click. Daniel gently pushes on the door, which silently swings open. "Nicely done, Dr. Houdini. Any more talents up your sleeve I don't know about?"

He turns to her with a smug smile, tucking the wires into a pocket of his field jacket. "Ah, but if I reveal all my secrets now I won't be able to surprise you later on, will I?" Flashing her that playful look she finds so endearing, slightly marred by the trickle of blood smudging the corner of his mouth.

She's suitably impressed, and quite possibly more than a bit excited. Discovering new facets and talents of her lover is one of the sexiest things about their relationship, right up there with the meeting of minds and joining of bodies. Though the middle of a jailbreak is hardly the best time to fall in love with Daniel all over again.

"Um, are you okay? You look a little feverish," he says in concern, placing a hand on her forehead. "They didn't hurt you to badly, did they?"

Damn that tell-tale blush of hers, both cheeks are hot now, not just the bruised one. "It's nothing, I'm fine. I was just wondering if you could teach me how to pick locks when we're back on New Earth."

"Ask Sam instead. She's better at it."

"Ah, but I can provide you with more effective incentives- ferrying books between home and the labs, back rubs, foot rubs…" wagging her eyebrows meaningfully.

He chuckles. "Now since you put it that way how can I refuse?" They help each other to stand, stealing a quick kiss along the way. "Let's go. I think I can retrace our steps-"

"Hold on," Becky stops him with a hand on his arm. "I think we're about to have company."

On the opposite side of the stout door they hear shouts and a scuffle taking place, followed by a couple energy blasts. They both tense, shifting into position for unarmed combat. No way they'll give up without a fight, maybe even inflicting some damage before being overtaken-

Moments later the key rattles in the lock and the door flings open. Jack enters followed by Sam and Teal'c, all three armed and very much alive, if a little bruised and battered themselves.

He beams at them. "Hey, kids. Enjoying your stay?"

"Oh, definitely five star accommodations," Becky replies dryly.

"Jack, what took you so long?" Daniel demands. "We were captured hours ago!"

"Gee, thanks for the show of gratitude, Danny. We've been searching for you two all day ever since finding your gear heaped outside the reception room," gesturing to Sam who smiles, holding up their tac vests. "We figured the ambush must've been a smokescreen to nab the pair of you."

"And not only that," Becky agrees. "I'll explain on the way. Can we go now?"

"You bet. Let's blow this pop stand, campers."

Between the jailbreak, the skulking in shadows, the theft of clothing from a backyard line and the inevitable necessity of knocking out a few guards along the way they've fallen right back into their usual team behavior from before Jack's promotion. Becky's gotten used to feeling like she's stepped into a sci-fi action movie years ago, par for the course when it comes to missions with SG-1.

Never a dull moment with them around. Thank goodness.

It's near local midnight according to the town clock when they stop to catch their breath, concealed in an alleyway with a kitty-corner view of the iron-bound, heavy wooden doors they'd passed through earlier that day. All seems quiet and peaceful, even the guards patrolling on the parapet above look bored.

"Come on," Daniel says in an urgent whisper. "We can get out without being noticed if we hurry-"

Becky stops him before he can break cover. "Not yet. We need a diversion."

Jack's gaze swivels to her. "Okay. What kind?"

A breeze picks up, stirring their purloined clothing and she holds out a finger to test. The buildings on the street are mostly timber and plaster, more flammable than stone. "If we can set something on fire the guards will be too distracted dealing with it to notice everyone else who's sensibly fleeing the area. And if they can convince the guards to open the gate then so much the better for us."

"Hiding in plain sight," Sam muses. "It could work, sir."

Jack rubs his chin, considering. "Maybe, Carter. Only last time I checked none of us are carrying flamethrowers."

He brings up a good point. Becky worries at her lower lip for a moment. "Teal'c, you know how to use the bow and arrows we confiscated from that guard earlier?"

"Indeed. They are similar to what my people use for hunting wild beasts on Chulak."

"Great. Jack, go and fetch that lantern," pointing to one hanging from a high bracket across the street.

"I see what you're getting at, Beck. One firestarter coming right up." After making sure the coast is clear he darts out of the alley, reaching on tiptoe to unhook the lantern before returning to their hiding place. "Here ya go," handing it to her.

"Thanks." Becky sets the lantern on the ground and opens the reservoir at the base. Her nose twitches at the sharp smell of kerosene, which appears to be just enough for what she has in mind.

"If we're doing this it better be soon," Sam warns, eyeing the nearest section of parapet. "The next guard should be passing by in another five minutes. That's cutting it awfully close."

"I hear you. Okay, everyone turn around and keep your eyes peeled." The light thus shielded by their bodies she hikes up her borrowed skirt and tears off a long strip of fabric, grateful she's kept her field trousers on underneath. If anyone stops them it won't be for her immodesty.

Jack risks a sideways glance behind him and smirks. "Channeling Mac, huh?"

"I hope so. Teal'c, one of the arrows please?" She winds the fabric around the arrowhead and shows it to him. "Will that be too unwieldy to fire?"

He takes the arrow, testing for weight and balance then making a tiny adjustment before handing it back to her. "No, it will suffice. Where should I send it?"

"On top of that building," indicating a thatched roof further down the street.

He studies the target, then nods acknowledgement. "I understand."

Sam checks her watch. "Two minutes left. If we're doing this it better be now."

"Got it." Becky carefully pours the kerosene onto the fabric. "Okay, Teal'c and I will stay here, the rest of you go across the street and wait."

"For what?" Daniel demands.

"For a hot time in the ol' town tonight, as we say in Chicago," Jack quips. "C'mon campers, let's leave 'em to their fun."

Teal'c flexes the bowstring. "I am ready when you are, Becky Grahme."

"Here we go." She holds the wrapped arrow against the dwindling flame in the lamp, the oil-soaked fabric immediately catching fire. He takes it from her and steps out of the alley to nock the arrow, sight the target and release, all in a single fluid motion.

The arrow sails in a neat arc, landing smack dab on the roof. Tinder-dry thatch immediately sets ablaze, flames quickly spreading thanks to the brisk breeze to nearby buildings.

It doesn't take long for the guards on the wall to notice and sound the alarm.

More arrive on the scene every minute from all over, either to form a bucket brigade from the neighborhood well or to rouse panic-stricken citizens out of residences up and down the street. Five disguised individuals surreptitiously direct them towards the city gate, raising a clamor.

Two guards pull on the heavy wooden doors and the crowd streams outside. Most stop just outside the wall but some keep on running until almost halfway to the Gate, when they can risk taking a break to catch their breath.

Jack beams at his team. "Just like old times, huh campers? Betrayal, ambush, a little jail time and a daring escape. I should come offworld with you guys more often."

Daniel rolls his eyes. "Just what Sam needs, back-seat driving from you."

"Killjoy," he sniffs. "Beck, good job on the diversion. I'll tell Mac you did him proud."

She ducks her head. "Not sure about that. I feel sorry for the people losing their homes to the fire."

"So do I but I not for those slimy, backstabbing shrubs who counted on selling us out to Ba'al. Bad enough they didn't us offer any refreshments first."

"They will surely face his wrath once he discovers we are not being held as promised," Teal'c agrees.

"Serves 'em right, T. When we get back to base I'm striking this world off our list of trusted allies until they get their act together."

"He will keep trying to get his revenge on us, sir. Sooner or later," Sam points out.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Carter. Okay campers, break's over. Six klicks left to the Gate and the guards will come along with torches any time now so let's make tracks."

Automatically they settle into the familiar configuration of past missions- Jack and Sam taking point, Becky and Daniel in the middle, Teal'c as rearguard. Running half the distance then alternating between double-time hike and jog the rest of the way to the Gate clearing. Becky manages to keep pace with the others, which she never could've accomplished on Old Earth. But she's veteran of a Gate team now, and in better physical shape than ever. Apparently one of the few unforeseen advantages to surviving the apocalypse.

So far they haven't been followed but they don't take any chances. As a precaution Jack has Daniel dial for Alpha Base, arriving in their Gateroom at near dawn local time.

Everyone's had subcutaneous transponder chips installed even before the departure of the Atlantis Expedition yet the SFs and techs on duty remain suspicious, an unfortunate side effect of wearing a combination of SGC gear and offworld garb. They don't stand down until Caldwell as base CO- roused out of a sound sleep and trying not to show his irritation in Jack's presence- gives the order.

"Sheesh, we haven't even been gone that long," Jack complains. "What gives, Colonel?"

Caldwell has the grace to look a bit sheepish. "Sorry, General. It's just that New Earth's been receiving multiple conflicting reports from Ixoran regional government about your team at different times yesterday on the ansible," meaning the interstellar communication devices discovered in Huy-Braesealis and distributed by the SGC to their allies. "First they claimed there was a dreadful accident and all of you were killed, then later correcting it to two kidnapped by criminals while the rest vanished without a trace. And after they changed their story a third time, well-" he shrugs. "You understand our initial confusion, sir."

Sam sighs. "And we just changed ansible frequencies after the last abduction attempt, too. Now we'll have to do it all over again."

"Hate when that happens," Jack grumbles. "At this point I'm all for striking Ixora permanently off our list of allies. Too wacko to even keep their stories straight."

After the inevitable preliminary exam and patching-up in the infirmary by base CMO Dr. Dora Mendez the techs dial the Gate. Wormhole travel can sure play hell with one's perception of time- midnight on Ixora, early morning on Alpha Base, late afternoon when they arrive at last on New Earth, battered and tired to the bone but alive and unbowed.

"Honey, we're home!" Jack calls out soon as they hit the ramp. "Hope somebody saved us some cake."

Becky can't help but chuckle along with Daniel and Sam. Just like old times indeed.

After Janet conducts a final checkup Jack orders everyone to their respective quarters, saving the debrief for tomorrow. "No sense hashing it out right now since I was there with ya. We'll figure what to do about Ixora later, for now it's time to hit the showers, grab some grub and sack out for the rest of the day."

Two hours later Becky sits in bed reveling in clean skin, a full belly and soft pillows cushioning her back. Standard post-mission procedure barring any serious injuries, seeking comfort and reassurance in familiar surroundings. The day's adventure finally put to rest, all well in their corner of the universe.

For tonight, anyway. Tomorrow could bring- as it often does- a whole new set of crises. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, as the saying goes.

Yet she can't stop thinking back on Ixora. Those poor people-

"Wondering if we did the right thing?"

She turns to see Daniel peering at her over his glasses. "How can you tell?"

"You've got that look on your face."

"Which one?"

"The one you get when you're besieged by second thoughts."

She smiles faintly, even as the stitches on her lip tug a bit. "Can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"Never." He sets pen and journal aside before resting on his side closer to her, caressing her arm. "So what's on your mind?"

"All those innocents who might be suffering at the hands of Ba'al right now because of their leaders' boneheaded decision to nab us."

"I worry about them too. But the alternative would've been far worse if we'd stayed in that cell. For us, the settlement and eventually even the whole galaxy if Ba'al succeeded."

"I know. Even so it feels like we're sacrificing one world for the greater good. And I hate that."

"So do I, but think of it this way. In the cell you told me it's useless to keep looking back instead of moving forward. Remember?"

She snorts. "So that's it, we wash our hands of them and go our merry way? Sounds just as bad as uselessly brooding over past mistakes in a jail cell."

He pulls back, looking hurt. She winces, realizing the words were in very poor taste, not to mention far more bitter than she intended.

Silence stretches between them, not the usual companionable kind.

Finally she sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. It's been a long day-"

"It's okay," he says quickly. "I feel awful about it too. You and I aren't military, we can't compartmentalize as easily as Jack, Sam or Teal'c."

"Nor should we. We have a duty to the SGC not only as scientific advisors but also as its conscience of sorts. Someone has to remind them of the human element that exists on the other side of the Gate."

"I agree. You know Jack wants to strike Ixora permanently off our list of allies. Given how the two of us were treated you think that's a good idea?"

She frowns, considering. Yes, it was pretty rough. Though in comparison no worse than on any other mission. After all, getting thrown in jail is an occupational hazard when it comes to exploring the galaxy with SG-1. "Is it weird if I say no despite everything?"

"A bit, but let's set that aside for now. Tell me instead what our policy should be as regards to Ixora." He sounds like the best of her old anthro professors at UCLA, encouraging her to evaluate options and come up with a proposal on the spot.

"Ixora ought to be given another chance. Maybe return in secret, give them covert help against Ba'al's occupation. It's not fair the citizens are being punished for the crimes of their leaders, washing our hands of them would be cruel at this point."

"I'm glad you think so too. All we have to do is convince Jack and Sam."

"Fine, but how? You know how stubborn Jack can be once his mind's made up."

"The same could be said for the two of us," he reminds her. "I'm sure if we put our heads together and apply our considerable powers of persuasion he'll see reason in no time," flashing her one of his wicked grins.

"Putting our heads together, I like the sound of that," turning to face him. "Have you always been so wise, raven?"

"Mmm, you might say a certain linguist's a big influence on the way I see things lately." There's a decided twinkle in his eye, any previous awkwardness between them forgiven and forgotten.

"I aim to please."

"That you do," gently kissing the uninjured side of her mouth. "Seriously though, thank you for getting me out of my brooding moment back there in the cell. I know I'm not the best company to be around sometimes-"

"Jack would say all the time-"

He grimaces but doesn't contradict. "-And I still have a lot of issues from my past to unpack. Like getting so focused on whatever's right in front of me I often lose sight of everything else. As my parents and Nick did, to their detriment."

"I have a lot of leftover hang-ups from my childhood too. But Mom used to say people wrapped up in themselves make pretty small packages, and talking it over with a friend is much better than toughing it out alone."

"Your mom sounds like someone very wise."

"She was. So let's make a deal. I'll help you escape your brooding moments if you do the same for me and we'll figure a way forward together as always. How about it?"

"You have a deal." They kiss to seal the bargain. Then for some reason he starts chuckling.

"What's so funny?"

"Jack no doubt thinks you deserve some sort of medal for putting up with me."

"Well, he does call me the 'Danny-whisperer' And I'm not one to back down from a challenge," she adds with an exaggerated wink.

"Thank goodness for that," he says just as lightly, then sobers. "I owe you my life, Becky."

"But Daniel," she protests, "you don't owe me anything-"

He stops her with a finger to her lips. "I do. You keep reminding me of the bigger picture and that means a lot to me. It scares me to think where I'd be without your caution and foresight keeping me out of trouble. Probably," with a wry smile, "either permanently dead, possessed by a Goa'uld, victim of some other alien tech or worst of all, coerced into Ascending. I can't live without you, hummingbird. I don't ever want to lose you."

"Me neither, raven," moved by the stark honesty and sincerity in his voice. "I love you so much."

"I love you too. Now it's time we get some sleep."

The room's plunged into near-darkness, the window curtains blocking the light of both moons sharing the evening sky. They spoon together, making tiny adjustments in position until the fit's exactly right, finding comfort in the familiarity of each other's bodies and the nocturnal sounds of the settlement they've called home for the past five years. Reveling in the intimacy they share, a warm, sweet and comforting bulwark in the face of an uncaring and unpredictable universe.

"Sweet dreams," she says softly.

"You, too." he replies, kissing the top of her head, his arm curling around her waist.

He can be broody and arrogant and a smart-aleck, not to mention impatient and impulsive. But also brilliant, witty and loving, full of tenderness and compassion. Life with him is never boring.

Thank goodness.

He's wrong about one thing, however. She owes him everything, not the other way around. She's never felt so seen, so accepted for all her flaws and quirks, or so loved. Not even by her uncles.

Daniel's breathing turns deep and even as he slips into slumber, soft puffs of air on her neck. Becky burrows further into the welcoming shelter of his body, secure in the knowledge that as long as they can share moments like these after a mission everything will be all right.

There are physical jails we can be thrown into, she thinks. And then there are mental prisons we create for ourselves spun out of grief, misplaced guilt, fear and self-blame. And breaking free from the latter can be much more difficult than the former.

Either way it's worth having a loved one nearby to help us escape.