Sam watched as her bike's handlebars spun and caught the ground, pulling the bike away and to the left. She flipped on her back and put her hands and feet flat on the asphalt, pushing against the ground with everything she had. The momentum of her body slowed quickly and she finally came to a stop about six feet from the edge. Still struggling to breathe after the hard impact, her hand went to her helmet strap and she pushed in the quick release button before yanking the stifling helmet off of her head; taking deep ragged gulps of air. A sharp knifing pain on her right side accompanied every inhale, making her wonder if she cracked a rib or two. Hopefully just bruised.

She angled her head to look for her bike, and spotted it forward and to the left of her; the back tire only a foot or so away from the edge. Holy shit that was close. Still out of breath she tried to sit up, then felt the sharp rib pain and decided against it, laying back down with a groan through clenched teeth. It wasn't her first time laying down a bike, but damn, it always fucking hurt. She heard the sharp sound of a semi's air brakes and rolled her head up to see a trucker jogging her way.

He looked to be in his 50s and called out to her when he got within a few feet, "Hey, you okay?"

Biting back a sarcastic reply, and using pride as her motivation, she struggled to sit up again, "Yeah, I think so. Just a little banged up," she managed; her breathing finally evening out.

He smiled at her, "I thought you were a goner for sure, that was a hellava move."

Her smirk came out more like a grimace, "Thanks."

He bent down, his eyes just now showing a bit of concern, "Hey, you sure you're okay? You need an ambulance?"

She shook her head, "No, no…I'll be fine. Just going to take a couple of minutes here."

He nodded, "Want me to call anyone?"

Well, she would need a ride, and a tow, "Umm, yeah thanks. Are we down far enough for a cell signal?"

He shook his head, "Nah, probably not…but I can patch you through to the State Police on my CB. They should be able to connect you with someone."

She moved to her left side to get up and groaned again. The trucker's hand appeared in her field of view and she looked up at him.

"Come on, let me give you a hand," he smiled.

"Thanks," she said gratefully before taking it and standing up with his help.

She bent over at the waist slightly, and took a quick assessment of her extremities. The ripped leathers on her right side had saved her from some serious road rash but she'd be looking at some deep bruises for sure. Ribs tender on the lower right. Her already injured hand felt like it was on fire. She grimaced again from the rib pain as she straightened up; all in all, not too bad.

Managing to walk with a slight limp, she made her way to the side of his cab and he was able to stretch the long-coiled cord out to her. Sam looked at her watch. It was 0928hrs. Two birds, one stone. The trucker set her up with the emergency channel and four transfers later, Walter's voice met her on the other end.

Walter was transferred the call through Base security, "Harriman."

"Hey Sergeant, it's Major Carter. Could you ask Colonel O'Neill if he wouldn't mind picking me up?"

"Picking you up Ma'am?"

She winced, "Yeah, I kinda laid down my bike about halfway up Independence Pass. I'm okay, I just need a ride… and a tow for the bike."

"Oh, umm, yes Ma'am, I haven't seen him yet today, but I'll make sure he knows right away. I'll call for a tow as well."

Sam thanked Walter and then the trucker for his help before heading back over to her bike and sitting down behind it. She looked out over what had almost been her final resting place and let out a snort. Wouldn't it be ironic that after all the shit she'd been through at the SGC, falling off a cliff would be her demise? The jokes wrote themselves. Oh, the Colonel was going to have a field day with this one. She shook her head with a smile, prepping herself for the inevitable relentless teasing that lie ahead.

Jack's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel hard. He took the red street lights through the Springs like suggestions, clearing them quickly before running through, and was shocked that he hadn't been spotted and pulled over by the locals yet. Soon he was on 82 and slammed down the accelerator, trying to push away all of the horrible thoughts running through his mind. He wouldn't know what to do if something happened to her. Jesus, how did he get here? Every day they risked their lives at work. Numerous times he had been forced to watch her be tortured, taken over, and critically injured. It had always been brutally hard to take, but something was different now. He felt exposed and vulnerable. Felt himself panicking and couldn't seem to control it anymore. Why?

Flashes of the night before went through his mind, as if his subconscious was throwing him twelve-foot arc softball pitches right over the middle. That's why you idiot.

His tires screeched as he took the hard right onto Independence Pass. People honked at him as he swerved around other vehicles to get there faster. His eyes swept the road on both sides, looking for any signs of her or her bike as he got higher up. By the time he saw her, he was a mess. He spotted her blond hair and black leathers and swerved across the other lane of traffic, sliding to a stop.

As he got out, her head turned toward him and he watched her get up slowly with a wince. He walked quickly toward her, taking everything in. How close her bike was to the ledge, how she was favoring her right side, her tattered leathers. He was so fucking relieved she was okay, he almost didn't know how to handle it.

.

Sam heard the rough stop of a vehicle and looked behind her shoulder, noticing the Colonel's truck. When he hopped out, it caught her off guard to see him wearing a long sleeve white t-shirt and jeans, instead of his typical black shirt and BDU pants. She got up and smirked at him as if to say, sorry you had to pick me up...can you believe this shit? But he wasn't smirking back. His face was dark and his eyes looked intense and distraught. He walked to her at a fast-determined pace, with his fists clenched like he was going into battle. She straightened up, immediately concerned.

He didn't say anything, and wasn't slowing as he got closer. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but stopped when she noticed his clenched jaw and watered eyes. He pulled her into a fierce hug. She felt his whole body shaking against her as he bent his head down into her neck; the fast-uneven breaths warm against her skin. His hand ran up the back of her neck; his fingers combing roughly through her hair until he was cradling the back of her head. "Damnit Carter," his voice was hoarse as it quivered with emotion, "I told you to stop scaring me." Her chest tightened and her breath hitched empathetically, realizing that he hadn't been told she was okay and must have been thinking the worst.

Sliding her arms under his, she wrapped her hands up and around his shoulders; ignoring the pain as she hugged him back, "I'm okay sir," she whispered against his ear. She felt him shudder and closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against his; suddenly feeling guilty at how good it felt to be in his arms again. It just felt right. Unable to stop herself, she tilted her head and brushed her lips tenderly under his ear. He froze. Then his hand at the back of her head slid down to her neck as he raised his head slowly. She lightened her grip on his shoulders to allow for the movement, and he turned his head to look at her…stunned. Searching his glassy eyes, she noticed his shaking had subsided…and that their lips were barely an inch apart. Her heart was pounding. Her stomach fluttered. And that's when she kissed him.