Soft morning light seeped through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. Jack stirred, momentarily disoriented, before feeling Sam's warmth beside him, her head nestled against his shoulder, her expression soft and peaceful. The quiet calm of the morning brought a sense of clarity he hadn't felt in a long time. He simply watched her for a moment, absorbing this rare and precious moment.
He traced gentle circles on her arm, marveling at how natural this felt. The weight of his worries seemed lighter, anchored in the warmth of her presence. Just then, her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with a soft smile that was still sleepy but filled with something that seemed to mirror his thoughts.
"Good morning," she whispered, her voice soft and affectionate.
"Good morning," he replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, savoring the newfound intimacy that felt grounding and exhilarating. Jack ran a hand along her back, feeling her relax into his touch.
Eventually, Sam stretched lazily and slipped out of bed, the cool floor grounding her. She wrapped herself in the nearby robe and padded toward the adjoining bathroom. Jack lingered a moment longer, watching her move with an ease that was rare to witness. It was intimate, this glimpse of her morning routine, unguarded and unhurried.
By the time she emerged, the steam from her shower trailing in her wake, Sam was already shifting into her day. She crossed to her wardrobe, selecting a perfectly tailored blazer from the neatly arranged lineup. Jack leaned back against the doorframe, observing her with curiosity and quiet admiration.
"Do you ever wear anything that isn't color-coordinated?" he teased, running a finger over the sleeve of a silk blouse hanging nearby.
Sam smirked as she glanced over her shoulder. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Not bad," he said, his voice softer now, "just very you."
She chuckled, pulling on the crisp blouse and fastening each button with practiced precision. "You'd be amazed at what first impressions can do."
Jack crossed the room, his fingers brushing lightly against hers as he handed her the blazer. "Impressed doesn't quite cover it."
Their eyes met briefly before Sam turned to check her reflection, smoothing the fabric into place. By the time they reached the kitchen, she had transformed—every detail was sharp, polished, and ready for the day ahead. Still in his T-shirt and boxers, Jack grabbed the coffee pot, grinning as he poured them a cup.
"You're way too put-together for breakfast," he said, sliding her mug across the counter.
She shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Well, someone must bring professionalism to this."
Jack laughed, the sound warm and familiar as they settled into an easy rhythm, letting the quiet companionship of the morning fill the space between them.
Sitting across from each other, Jack reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a quiet moment of connection. Their glances held a depth unspoken, both basking in the gentle, unhurried morning as if they were in no rush to face the world outside.
"So… about last night…" Sam ventured, breaking the quiet but keeping her gaze on their entwined hands.
Jack's smile softened as he met her eyes.
"Yeah," he murmured, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, "it was… incredible." He paused, then added, "This—us—it feels right, Sam."
A blush warmed her cheeks as she nodded.
"It does," she replied softly. "But… what does this mean? For us?"
"It means," he said, choosing his words carefully, "we keep exploring whatever this is. I want it, Sam, but I want to respect your boundaries at work, too."
She let out a small sigh of relief, the anticipation mingling with contentment.
"So we're keeping things separate on base?"
He nodded.
"Let's focus on work there. I'll be Colonel O'Neill, giving everyone a hard time until I'm cleared for duty. But here," he added, his voice dropping to a tender tone, "we can just be Sam and Jack."
A smile tugged at her lips as she relaxed.
"I like that," she admitted, savoring the simplicity of their moment. "Keeping work and… us separate."
They lingered over breakfast, comfortable in each other's presence, letting their new reality settle in. Over the next few weeks, they fell into an easy rhythm, balancing their lives on and off the base. Jack continued his therapy sessions with Dr. Langford in Denver, each one helping him confront the anger, guilt, and haunting memories he carried. His progress was slow but steady, and he could feel a shift within himself, a lightness he hadn't known he needed.
On base, he focused on paperwork, keeping close to the team without interfering in their backup missions. He and Sam continued to find small moments to be together—shared glances, brief conversations, and the occasional stolen kiss in hidden corners. The idea of keeping things strictly professional at work was more theoretical than practical, but they managed to keep it discreet enough that, as far as they knew, no one had noticed. At least, that's what they thought.
They should have known that nobody kept a secret from the base's CMO.
Nobody.
It was a quiet afternoon on base when Sam found herself cornered in the infirmary by Doctor Janet Fraiser. She'd come in hoping to get Janet's opinion on the renovations she was planning for her office—changes still awaiting General Hammond's approval and possible only after she knew if she was staying for good.
Over time, things settled into a quiet understanding between Sam, the rest of SG-1, and Janet. Sam no longer avoided them, and in turn, they began treating her as one of their own—most of the time.
Her decision to resume therapy sessions with Daniel, Teal'c, and Kawalsky was a significant part of this transition. At first, it had been uncomfortable, particularly with Daniel and Kawalsky. Daniel's natural curiosity and tendency to dig deep often collided with Sam's preference to keep things professional and detached. Kawalsky, on the other hand, had approached the sessions with skepticism, masking his discomfort with humor and deflection that tested her patience. He was much like Jack.
Teal'c was the exception. His steady, composed nature made him the easiest to work with, though his enigmatic silences sometimes left Sam feeling like she was making less progress than she actually was.
Despite the initial discomfort, they eventually found their rhythm. Daniel began to channel his curiosity into meaningful discussions rather than personal interrogations. Kawalsky, with time and encouragement, let his guard down enough to engage sincerely. Teal'c, in his quiet way, demonstrated that he valued her insights and guidance.
The sessions progressed steadily, each breakthrough building trust and solidifying her role within the team. Sam's clinical expertise helped them confront and navigate their trauma at Eronia, and she found that in helping them, she was also healing herself in small, unexpected ways.
Eventually, the need for the sessions faded. One by one, Daniel, Teal'c, and Kawalsky came to her office to thank her, each in their own way, as they acknowledged they no longer needed her help to move forward. It was a bittersweet moment for Sam. While it marked the success of her work, it also meant the end of this unique, deeply personal connection she had built with them.
The sessions' closure was a quiet triumph—not just for them but also for her. It was a testament to their resilience and her ability to contribute meaningfully to their team, even in a way she hadn't expected. Sam walked away from that chapter with renewed purpose, knowing she had earned her place among them.
Sam expected a quick consultation with Janet, maybe a friendly chat. But as soon as she walked through the door, Janet closed the file in front of her, folded her arms, and fixed her with a look Sam recognized all too well—a look that meant Janet knew everything.
"So," Janet began, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips, "how's Colonel O'Neill?"
Sam's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly covered her reaction with a casual shrug.
"Uh… he's fine? I mean, he's doing much better with his recovery," she replied, trying to keep her tone light and professional.
"Oh, I'm sure he is," Janet replied, her smile widening as she raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly what I meant, Sam."
Sam blinked, feeling the slightest bit of sweat on her brow.
"What do you mean?" she replied as innocently as possible.
Janet leaned in, lowering her voice.
"Oh, come on, Sam. Don't play coy with me. I know all about the sneaking around and the… 'glances.'"
Sam's eyes widened, and she felt her cheeks go red.
"Janet! How—what are you talking about?"
Janet smirked.
"Please, Sam. You two might think you're being discreet, but nobody keeps secrets from Janet Fraiser at the SGC. Nobody."
Sam opened her mouth to protest, then quickly shut it, realizing there was no point. She cleared her throat.
"Well… we were trying to keep it quiet."
"Quiet?" Janet scoffed, giving her friend a playful glare. "Sam, I can practically see the hearts in your eyes every time he walks by! Not to mention the so-called 'coincidences' of you two being in the same part of the base too often. Especially the ones with storage rooms."
Sam rubbed her forehead, feeling both embarrassed and amused.
"I swear, Janet, we've been careful."
Janet chuckled, shaking her head.
"Careful? Sam, last week you had lipstick on, and then five minutes later, you didn't."
Sam blinked, her jaw dropping. "You noticed that?"
"Of course I did!" Janet replied, crossing her arms with a grin. "And don't think I didn't see how he avoided eye contact that entire staff meeting about security protocols. So… when were you planning on telling me?"
Sam sighed, defeated but laughing despite herself.
"We weren't exactly planning to tell anyone, Janet. Especially not yet since my evaluation hasn't come out."
Janet gave her an affectionate nudge.
"Well, I don't blame you. Just know that I'm on your side. But maybe… lose the lipstick next time?"
Sam let out a laugh, finally giving in. "Alright, fine. Just don't tell anyone, okay?"
"Sam," Janet said, her tone mockingly serious. "I can keep a secret. Hell, I'll carry it with me to my dead grave… As long as you keep giving me the details."
"Details?" Sam asked, raising her eyebrow.
"Oh, you better believe it." Janet winked, clearly delighted. "A girl has to live vicariously, you know."
Sam shook her head, laughing. "Fine. But if you ever give me that look in a briefing, I will kill you."
Janet grinned. "Noted, Doctor. Now, return to your 'decor check' or whatever excuse you used."
As Sam left, she shook her head, chuckling. They might have been hiding from the whole base, but she should've known there was no fooling Janet Fraiser.
As the date for his final evaluation approached, tension began to build among the team. Dr. Langford had been called to the SGC, and when he arrived, he was escorted to a small office for the evaluation. Jack took a deep breath before following him inside, and the two settled in for the two-hour conversation that would determine his future. They discussed everything—the trauma from his last mission, the residual effects of the sarcophagus, the emotional strain of feeling he'd let his team down, and how he'd been managing his anger—all themes that they had worked extensively at therapy, but Langford wanted to address them one last time.
In the hallway, Sam, Daniel, Teal'c, and Kawalsky waited, each carrying their mixture of worry and hope. Janet had stopped by and left after some minutes, promising to return.
After what felt like an eternity, Daniel sighed, glancing at Kawalsky.
"Think they're done in there yet?"
Kawalsky snorted.
"You know Jack. He's probably giving Langford a hard time, and then he'll pass with flying colors. Classic O'Neill."
Sam chuckled despite her nerves.
"He doesn't want anyone to know he cares, but we all know he does."
Teal'c inclined his head solemnly.
"O'Neill's strength lies not only in his loyalty but in his ability to adapt. He has overcome much already. This is merely another trial."
Finally, the door opened, and Jack stepped out, his face unreadable. He glanced at them and, with a half-smile, said, "They'll let you know when they know."
Dr. Langford soon followed and turned to Sam.
"Doctor Carter, could you take me to General Hammond?"
"Of course, Doctor Langford." She offered him a nod, her professional demeanor unwavering even as her heart beat rapidly. She led him through the hallway, feeling every step like an eternity. She closed the door quietly in Hammond's office, remaining respectfully silent as Dr. Langford prepared to deliver his conclusions.
Dr. Langford cleared his throat, placing a folder on Hammond's desk.
"General, as requested, I've completed my report on Colonel O'Neill. Today's evaluation was meant to confirm the findings in this report, and I can confidently say that Colonel O'Neill is ready to return to active duty."
Hammond leaned forward, his gaze intent. "Can you elaborate on that, Doctor?"
Dr. Langford nodded.
"Colonel O'Neill has shown a significant improvement in his anger management. Through our sessions, he's confronted the deeply ingrained resentment and frustration he's carried—anger stemming not just from his last mission but from years of cumulative trauma. He's developed strategies to recognize when he's approaching his limits and tools to manage those feelings before they escalate."
Langford paused, glancing at Sam before continuing.
"There was also the issue of the sarcophagus. Over time, Colonel O'Neill experienced lingering psychological effects—an emptiness, a numbing of certain emotions. The sarcophagus can create a dependency, an almost addictive response in its users, as I was told and read in the papers Doctor Daniel Jackson kindly provided me. However, in the Colonel's case, these effects have gradually diminished. He's taken the steps needed to regain his emotional stability and has processed much of the guilt he felt after his capture."
Hammond nodded thoughtfully, clearly absorbing every word. "And his ability to lead?"
"Colonel O'Neill's loyalty and dedication to his team have only strengthened," Dr. Langford replied. "One of his greatest challenges was dealing with the feeling that he'd let his team down. Through therapy, he's worked through those feelings of inadequacy and the self-blame he carried from the last mission. He understands the need to approach situations with a clear, calm mind, and I'm confident he has the skills now to handle that."
Sam felt a rush of pride and relief as Dr. Langford concluded, her heart swelling as she realized how far Jack had come. Hammond nodded, his expression softening.
"Thank you, Doctor Langford," Hammond replied, his gratitude evident. "Your assessment has been invaluable. I'll take it from here."
Langford and Sam left the office, leaving Hammond alone to process the decision. After a brief call to the Pentagon, Hammond pressed the intercom.
"Colonel O'Neill, please report to my office."
Jack entered Hammond's office, his heart pounding slightly faster than usual. Hammond stood and came around the desk, holding out a crisp folder with a formal document.
"Colonel O'Neill," he began, his tone steady, "effective immediately, you're reinstated to active duty as the leader of SG-1."
Jack's usual composure cracked momentarily, and a broad smile spread.
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, voice brimming with relief and gratitude.
Hammond clapped him on the shoulder.
"It's good to have you back, Jack."
After leaving the office, Jack saw his team's expectant faces and Sam. His grin was all the answer they needed, but he spoke anyway.
"Well, team, guess who's back in action."
Before he knew it, his team surrounded him, clapping him on the shoulder and offering congratulations and encouragement.
Kawalsky grinned, giving him a hearty clap on the back.
"Told you you'd be back. Guess you're stuck with us again, Jack."
Jack chuckled, the relief evident in his eyes. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
He caught Sam's gaze across the hallway, a shared understanding passing between them. She offered him a quiet, knowing smile, her eyes reflecting her pride and love. At that moment, Jack knew that he'd come through his journey stronger but with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to lead his team and embrace the life that awaited him—one that included both his duty and the love he'd found in the process.
That evening, the team gathered at O'Malley's, the familiar pub alive with its usual buzz, but it felt like the place belonged to them tonight. Jack had a celebratory gleam in his eye, and Sam couldn't help but reflect on how far he'd come. As they entered, the hostess led them to a large round table, cozy and tucked away, perfect for a team that often needed a bit of privacy.
Jack claimed the seat next to Sam as they sat down, casually slipping his hand into hers under the table. The warmth of his palm against hers made her smile, and she squeezed his hand. Across from them, Daniel and Janet had found seats next to each other, and it didn't take long for Sam to notice how Janet leaned in a bit closer when she spoke or how Daniel's face lit up every time she laughed. Sam filed that observation away for later.
"Alright, here's to Colonel Jack O'Neill," Kawalsky toasted with a grin, lifting his glass of beer. "Back from the brink and reinstated with flying colors."
Everyone raised their glasses, clinking them together with cheers and congratulations. Sam's glass of white wine met Jack's whiskey tumbler with a soft chime, and as she looked at him, the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.
"So, Jack," Daniel said, putting on a mock serious face, "what's your big plan now that you're officially back in action?"
"Oh, I dunno," Jack replied, shrugging, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Might start by whipping you kids back into shape. You've probably gotten soft without me around to keep an eye on you."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow.
"I assure you, O'Neill, I have maintained my regimen."
"Right, right. I meant the other kids," Jack said with a grin, looking at Kawalsky as he gave him a playful eye roll.
As the server came by to take their orders, everyone had their go-to favorites. Jack ordered a thick, juicy, medium-rare steak with fries. Sam chose a grilled chicken salad, while Janet opted for a Caesar salad but added a hearty serving of garlic bread on the side, sharing a glance with Daniel, who couldn't resist adding a burger to his order. Kawalsky went for the spicy wings and a tall beer, and Teal'c, ever the warrior, ordered a double cheeseburger after seeing it advertised as "O'Malley's Biggest and Best."
"Teal'c, that's gonna be bigger than your head," Kawalsky said with a laugh.
Teal'c tilted his head in thought, unbothered.
"Indeed, Charles Kawalsky. I am intrigued by its claims."
Sam chuckled, leaning closer to Jack.
"Guess we know who'll win the eating contest tonight."
Under the table, Jack squeezed her hand, and she turned to him, her eyes softening. She knew how much this moment meant to him, and there was no one else she'd rather be here with.
"So, Sam," Janet interjected with a curious smirk, "are you feeling settled now that some months have passed since your move from D.C.?"
Sam let out a small sigh, the memories of D.C. flickering across her mind.
"You know… I guess you could say that Colorado Springs is starting to grow on me," she said thoughtfully. "D.C. now feels like… someone else's life. The only things I miss are new tailored suits and more Louboutins. I'm not giving those up."
Jack chuckled beside her. "And I wouldn't ask you to. Please keep them."
"Oh, I am," Sam said with a grin, giving him a sideways glance that was both teasing and fond.
The food arrived with much fanfare. Teal'c's burger was indeed massive, stacked with layers of cheese, bacon, and onion rings, and he studied it carefully, strategizing how best to tackle it. Jack's steak was exactly as he liked it, juicy and tender, and he couldn't help but steal a few of Sam's fries, grinning when she pretended to slap his hand away.
Across the table, Daniel and Janet were deep in conversation, seemingly oblivious to anyone else around them. Sam watched them momentarily, noting how easily Daniel made Janet laugh, her face lighting up in a rare way outside the infirmary. The way Daniel leaned in just a little closer than necessary wasn't lost on her, either. She exchanged a quick, amused look with Jack, who raised an eyebrow.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" he murmured.
"Oh, absolutely," Sam replied, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Looks like someone's making new friends."
Jack smirked. "Guess it's about time we're not the only couple at SGC."
Sam laughed softly, realizing just how comfortable she felt here, surrounded by them. More than ever, she understood that this was her home now, not the polished corridors of her practice in Washington, D.C. Here, she didn't need to be anyone but herself, and she could feel it in her bones that she was exactly where she belonged. She just hoped that General Hammond would arrive at the same conclusion.
"Sam?" Jack's voice pulled her back, and she glanced up at him. "You seem miles away."
"Just thinking about how glad I am to be here," she said softly, her eyes warm as they met his. "I wouldn't trade this for anything."
Kawalsky, overhearing, raised his glass with a grin.
"Here's to that! A team that does therapy together drinks together."
Janet laughed, her gaze flicking to Daniel, who returned it with a grin.
"And to the people who keep everyone in one piece."
"That's right, Doc," Kawalsky said, tipping his glass toward her. "We'd be lost without you."
The laughter grew louder as the night wore on, and the barriers that often separated them on base seemed to fade away. They weren't just colleagues or teammates—they were family, bound by shared experiences, inside jokes, and the quiet moments that made it all worth it. Sam held on to Jack's hand beneath the table, her heart full, knowing she'd never forget this night.
After finishing their meals, Jack leaned back with a satisfied smile and raised his glass one last time.
"To SG-1—and to the people who make this crazy life worth living."
They all clinked their glasses again, exchanging knowing smiles. Sam caught Janet's eye across the table, and the doctor raised an eyebrow as if to say, "We'll talk later." Sam stifled a laugh, making a mental note to ask Janet just how long she'd been cozying up to Daniel.
But for now, she only wanted to enjoy this moment with those who started to mean the world to her. When Jack squeezed her hand again, she squeezed back, feeling content in a way she hadn't felt in years.
They were all together, they were all safe, and in the end, that was everything.
As dinner wound down at O'Malley's, the laughter and teasing continued, reluctant to let the night end. But eventually, the group drifted toward the exit, still savoring the easy warmth of the night.
Outside, Kawalsky watched as Janet casually offered Daniel a ride home. The two exchanged smiles that hinted at something more than friendship, and Sam caught the look with quiet amusement. She could already imagine Janet's reaction to her questions tomorrow morning.
Just then, Jack slid an arm around Sam's shoulders, his touch familiar and easy, and she leaned into him, feeling content.
"How about I give you a lift, Doctor Carter?" he said, the suggestion casual, but his eyes held a glimmer she knew all too well.
"Sounds good, Colonel," she replied, suppressing a smile as she nodded.
Kawalsky looked at the two pairs walking off in opposite directions, then turned to Teal'c with a puzzled look.
"Hey, T, did we miss something tonight?"
Teal'c inclined his head, his tone solemn as ever.
"I never miss anything, Major. You, however, are an entirely different case."
Kawalsky let out a laugh, clapping Teal'c on the shoulder.
"Guess that's why they keep us around, right? To keep you sharp."
With that, Kawalsky and Teal'c headed to the car, ready to call it a night. Meanwhile, Jack led Sam to his truck, exchanging a conspiratorial grin as he opened the passenger door for her.
As they drove, the streets of Colorado Springs were quiet, the city lights casting a soft glow. Jack's hand drifted over to rest on Sam's leg, his thumb tracing small circles. They didn't need to talk; their quiet companionship was enough. When they reached her place, Sam glanced at Jack.
"Are you staying the night?" she asked, voice soft.
His response was to lean in and kiss her gently and lingeringly, and they both knew that would be all the answer they needed. Moments later, they were inside, lost in each other as the night unfolded around them.
Janet and Daniel arrived at his apartment across town, laughter trailing after them like an old, familiar melody. The evening had been unexpectedly light, filled with easy conversation and shared smiles, the kind that lingered long after the moment passed. As they reached his door, Daniel paused, turning to her with a gaze that held both warmth and hesitation.
"Thanks for the ride, Janet," he said, his voice soft but laced with something more—something unspoken. "But, uh… I'm not really ready for this night to end."
Janet tilted her head slightly, studying him with a knowing smile. Her dark eyes sparkled in the dim hallway light, and she stepped closer.
"Neither am I," she murmured, her voice low and steady, before kissing him softly.
The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as though testing the boundaries of this new intimacy. But it deepened quickly, fueled by the warmth between them for far too long. When they pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling as the moment hung suspended between them.
Daniel fumbled briefly with his keys, his hands unsteady, but they laughed at the awkwardness. Once inside, the door clicked shut behind them, and the quiet intimacy of the space wrapped around them. Jackets and shoes were shed in a blur, each movement less about routine and more about drawing closer.
The laughter from earlier softened into quieter smiles and whispered words. Janet's fingers brushed against his as she set her bag down, the slight touch igniting a spark that made her pause. Daniel reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and for a moment, they stood there, caught in each other's gravity.
"This feels… overdue," Daniel admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Janet smiled, her hand moving to cup his cheek.
"I think we've both been waiting for the right moment," she said softly, "and I think this might be it."
Their lips met again with a certainty that erased the last of their doubts. The night unfolded quietly, the boundaries of friendship giving way to something deeper, more profound. Conversation ebbed into silence. The only sounds left were their soft laughter, whispered promises, and the rhythm of two hearts finally beating in time.
Janet stirred as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, warming the room. She sighed contentedly, the haze of sleep gradually lifting as she snuggled deeper into the pillow. Then she opened her eyes.
And screamed.
"Ahh! What the hell?" she yelped, bolting upright and clutching the blanket to her chest. Directly across from the bed, a carved wooden mask—its angular features sharp and its hollow eyes seemingly staring into her soul—hung ominously on the wall.
Daniel sat up with a start, his hair sticking out in every direction.
"What? What's wrong?" he asked, blinking rapidly.
Janet pointed at the mask, her finger trembling. "That thing! Why is it staring at me?"
Daniel followed her gaze and immediately relaxed, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.
"Oh, that? It's a ceremonial mask from the Dogon tribe. It's meant to ward off evil spirits."
Janet gawked at him, her heart still racing.
"Well, congratulations, Daniel—it just about warded off my soul!" She flopped back onto the bed, groaning.
Daniel chuckled, leaning back against the headboard.
"You get used to it. Besides, it's one of my favorite pieces."
She turned her head to glare at him.
"How do you sleep in here with that watching you? Honestly, Daniel, your bedroom looks like the storage room of a museum!"
He grinned, unbothered by the critique.
"I like to think of it as a personal gallery. Every piece has a story."
Janet rolled her eyes and sat up again, now taking in the room for the first time. Last night, she wasn't exactly paying attention to that kind of detail, but now it was exactly as she feared: artifacts were everywhere. Shelves lined with tiny statues and relics, books stacked haphazardly in every available corner, and scrolls spilling out of boxes. She even spotted what looked suspiciously like a chunk of a column propped up in one corner.
"You're a world-class archaeologist, Daniel," she said, shaking her head, "but this is absurd. Do you even have a nightstand under all those books?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish.
"I've been meaning to organize… but you know how it is. One artifact leads to another, and…"
"And suddenly you're sleeping in a tomb," Janet finished, arching an eyebrow.
Daniel laughed, reaching out to take her hand.
"Hey, some people collect stamps. I just happen to collect history."
Janet gave him a dubious look but couldn't suppress a smile.
"Just promise me this: we will wake up at my place next time. No masks, no statues, no ancient curses."
"Deal," Daniel said with a grin. Then, after a beat, he added mischievously, "But you're missing out on the charm of waking up to 4,000 years of history."
Janet groaned dramatically and pulled the blanket over her head.
"You're lucky you're cute, Jackson."
Daniel chuckled, leaning down to kiss her temple.
"Noted. Now, how about breakfast? I make a mean cup of coffee and think I have cereal… somewhere."
Her muffled response from under the blanket made him laugh again. As much as Janet loved the man, she was already making mental notes on how to get him to declutter—preferably before she woke up to something even creepier than that mask.