The dimly lit bar just off the main drag of Colorado Springs was filled with the familiar hum of quiet conversation and clinking glasses. Daniel Jackson sat at a corner table, nursing a glass of beer. It was a cozy little dive, far removed from the clinical, secretive halls of Cheyenne Mountain. Here, no one would ask questions about government clearance or secret programs. It was just people talking about work, life, and sports—simple and straightforward. And for Daniel, simplicity was a rare and welcome luxury.
He looked across the table at the man seated opposite him, Matt Fisher, an old friend from his days in academia. Matt had a grin plastered on his face, the kind of grin only a few beers deep could create, as he recounted one of the more infamous memories from Daniel's past.
"You know, Danny," Matt said, pausing to take a swig of his own drink, "I still can't believe you. The guy who spent years trying to convince the world that pyramids were landing platforms for aliens. And now here you are—working for the government. Deep space radar telemetry, of all things! You? With the military? You gotta admit, it's pretty hilarious."
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, believe me, Matt, I never thought I'd be working for the military either. But here I am." He took a sip of his beer, carefully avoiding any further elaboration.
"Come on, though," Matt pressed, leaning forward with a gleam in his eyes. "You've gotta see the irony in it. The academic world thought you were a joke—'Dr. Space Alien,' they called you. And now you're deep in the thick of classified government work? I mean, who would've guessed?"
Daniel smirked, resting his chin on his hand. "Yeah, yeah, it's a bit of a stretch, isn't it? And trust me, sometimes I think back to those days and wonder how the hell I ended up here."
Of course, the reality was far more unbelievable than Matt would ever know. Not just working with the military, but traveling through a Stargate to distant planets, meeting alien civilizations, and occasionally saving the world. But Daniel couldn't exactly share that over a beer. Instead, he just nodded and played along.
Matt shook his head, still grinning. "I remember the first time I read your paper. Hell, most of the department laughed, but I thought—'This guy's either crazy or he's on to something.' I mean, aliens building pyramids? That's some next-level sci-fi stuff. But here you are, making it work. I'm proud of you, man. You stuck to your guns."
"Thanks, Matt," Daniel said with a warm smile. "Appreciate it."
As the conversation drifted toward more mundane topics—like Matt's current research and how the academic world hadn't changed much since Daniel left—Daniel's attention wandered for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone enter the bar.
It was Captain Samantha Carter.
She stood in the doorway, looking flushed, as if she'd just finished a long ride. Her helmet dangled casually from her left hand, and she wore black leather biking gear that hugged her athletic frame. Her blonde hair was slightly tousled, and there was a lingering intensity in her eyes. She scanned the bar briefly, but didn't seem to notice Daniel sitting tucked away in his quiet corner.
Daniel blinked. He had barely ever seen Sam outside of their professional setting, much less looking so... relaxed. Or was "intense" the better word? He couldn't quite decide. She had an openness at work, sure, a warmth that contrasted with the rigidity of military formality. But here, outside the confines of Stargate Command, she seemed... different.
She walked further into the bar, taking a seat at the opposite end of the room, still clutching her helmet. It was clear from her slightly flushed cheeks and the glint in her eyes that she had been riding to clear her head. He couldn't help but feel a little curious. What had driven her out here, and so far away from the base? And why this bar, of all places?
He considered going over, saying hello. After all, they got along well at work, and Sam was the kind of person you could have a conversation with about pretty much anything. And yet, he was here with an old friend, and it felt like the two worlds—the academic past and the top-secret present—were too far apart to mix. Or maybe it was that seeing Sam outside the structured environment of Stargate Command made him realize how little he actually knew about her life beyond the SGC.
In any case, she hadn't noticed him, and Daniel wasn't one for intruding on someone's personal time. Instead, he quietly settled back into his seat, taking another sip of his beer as Matt continued to talk about his latest academic frustrations.
But his mind kept wandering back to Sam.
He tried to picture her—Captain Carter, the astrophysicist, the brilliant mind who could dismantle alien technology with ease—sitting at that bar, leather jacket zipped down, lost in her thoughts. It was strange, seeing someone so driven and focused in their work appearing like a normal human being outside of the professional walls of the SGC.
"So, what do you actually do in that mountain, anyway?" Matt's voice cut through Daniel's musings, drawing him back into the present.
"Deep space radar telemetry," Daniel repeated, smiling. The practiced answer slipped out automatically. "Really boring stuff."
Matt snorted. "Yeah, sure. I bet it's top secret alien-hunting, knowing you."
Daniel raised his glass. "If only you knew."
As Matt launched into another story, Daniel glanced back across the bar one more time, seeing Sam sit at the bar, ordering with a wide grin and setting the laminated menu aside.
The night was winding down. The soft chatter in the bar had begun to quiet as the crowd thinned, leaving only a few scattered patrons at the tables. The jukebox in the corner hummed a low tune, adding a comforting backdrop to the dwindling conversation. Daniel glanced around the room and noticed Sam again, still at the bar. This time, she had a plate of food in front of her—a burger and fries—and she was tearing into it like she hadn't eaten in days.
He stifled a grin. It was funny to see Captain Samantha Carter, usually so composed and disciplined, demolishing a plate of greasy food like it was her last meal. The sight brought a certain warmth to her; it was a reminder that she wasn't just the military's golden girl or an astrophysics genius—she was also human, with the same cravings and needs as anyone else.
Across from him, Matt was still going on about his daughters, two bright-eyed girls that Daniel vaguely remembered meeting years ago.
"They're both growing up too fast," Matt said with a sigh. "Sophie's starting high school next year, can you believe it? And Emma's already talking about colleges. I'm not ready, man."
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know how you do it. Two teenage girls? That's gotta be a battlefield all its own."
Matt groaned. "Oh, you have no idea. But they're good kids. Mostly. You know, I was always more worried about work when they were little, but now I'm thinking maybe I should've prepared more for this stage."
As Matt's voice trailed into more details about parenthood, Daniel's attention drifted again. Sam had finished her meal, pushing the plate aside, and was now engaged in a conversation with the barkeep.
The bartender, a striking woman with chestnut-brown hair tied back in a casual ponytail, looked about Daniel's age. She was tall, with a confident air, and had a warm, easy smile that seemed to come naturally to her. Sam appeared relaxed, leaning slightly on the bar, her body language open as they talked.
It didn't seem like they knew each other, judging by the snippets of conversation that drifted over. The barkeep asked about Sam's food, something along the lines of, "You worked up quite an appetite there, huh?" to which Sam laughed lightly, "Yeah, I guess I was hungrier than I thought."
The topic shifted to Sam's drink—something strong from the looks of it—and the bartender raised an eyebrow in appreciation. "A girl who knows her whiskey. That's rare around here."
Sam smiled and shrugged. "I like the burn. Clears my head after a long day." She tapped her helmet lightly, which was resting on the bar next to her. "And a long ride."
The barkeep's eyes lingered on the helmet. "Nice bike, by the way. What are you riding?"
Sam's face lit up in the way Daniel had only seen a handful of times—usually when she was talking about something technical or exciting back at the base. "A Triumph. Bonneville. Just got it tuned up last week."
The bartender leaned forward a little, clearly interested. "I've always had a soft spot for vintage bikes. My ex used to have a Triumph. Maybe I'll take a ride on yours sometime." She said it with a teasing lilt, her eyes twinkling.
Sam raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at her lips. "Oh? When are you free?"
The barkeep chuckled, and it became obvious that the conversation had shifted from small talk to something else. The subtle brush of Sam's hand against the bartender's as she reached for her glass, the way the two leaned in closer as the bar grew emptier—all the telltale signs of casual flirting were there. Sam's smile had widened, and she was clearly enjoying herself, the tension from earlier seemingly gone.
Daniel grinned to himself, hiding it behind his beer. He'd never really thought of Sam as someone who flirted—probably because he'd only ever seen her in a professional setting. But here she was, relaxed and engaging, clearly charming the attractive bartender. It was nice to see, really. Sam had earned some time to unwind, and he didn't think much of it beyond that.
He turned his attention back to Matt, who was still talking about his daughters. "Emma's thinking about becoming a marine biologist now, can you believe that? This is the same kid who wouldn't even go near the ocean a few years ago."
Daniel smiled, nodding, though his mind was still half-focused on the scene at the bar. "That's great, Matt. She's got the passion for it?"
"Oh yeah, obsessed with dolphins now. It's kind of adorable, honestly," Matt said, his voice softening with that fatherly pride that made Daniel smile.
But as Matt continued talking about his kids, Daniel's gaze drifted once more to Sam and the bartender. The two women were now standing a little closer, their conversation punctuated by soft laughter and occasional touches—Sam brushing the bartender's hand again as she reached for her drink, the bartender leaning just a little too far over the bar to hand her something.
It wasn't something Daniel had expected to witness tonight, but it made him feel happy for her, in a quiet sort of way. It wasn't easy to see the people you worked with day in and day out as anything other than professionals, especially at the SGC, where everything was so serious, so life-or-death. Seeing Sam loosen up, laugh, flirt—it reminded him that they all needed those moments of normalcy, those brief escapes from the insane world they dealt with every day.
"So, Danny," Matt said, snapping him back to the present conversation. "What about you? You ever think about settling down? Or are you still married to your work?"
Daniel chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Oh, you know me. Married to the job, as always." Explaining Sha're was always too complicated but Daniel's heart ached at the thought. It had been months since he last saw his wife. Suddenly, sitting here and enjoying his evening seemed like a selfish thing to do and he swallowed the bitter taste in the back of his throat.
Matt gave him a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, well, maybe one of these days, you'll surprise us all. Someone'll sweep you off your feet, and we'll all say we never saw it coming."
Daniel raised his glass, smiling. "Stranger things have happened."
The bar had quieted even further, and the flirting between Sam and the bartender was no longer just light banter. Sam leaned in as the bartender bent to write on a slip of paper that bore all hallmarks of being a phone number. There was an unmistakable electricity in the air. Sam commented something and the bartender grinned widely, clearly pleased, and gently placed the paper—her phone number—into Sam's hand, their fingers lingering together. Sam took the slip of paper with her other hand and curled her fingers around the other woman's, holding it for far longer than necessary, warmth radiating the small action. When the bartender shifted closer, Sam playfully kissed her knuckles, gazing into her eyes as she did before letting go of her hand.
Sam laughed softly, a genuine sound that Daniel hadn't heard from her often, and she tucked the number into the inside pocket of her leather jacket. But as she did, her eyes carelessly scanned the room one time—and that's when she spotted Daniel, sitting in the corner.
Her entire demeanor shifted in an instant.
Daniel had been casually watching the interaction unfold, more amused than anything. He grinned apologetically, raising his beer in a friendly toast. He wasn't Jack and he saw no reason to tease her about this.
Sam's face drained of color. The smile vanished, replaced by a wide-eyed look of alarm, and she stiffened so visibly that Daniel could almost hear her spine snap straight. She instantly pulled away from the bartender, who, sensing something was wrong, reached out to touch her arm. This time, Sam flinched back as if the touch had burned her.
"I—uh, sorry," Sam mumbled, her voice strained and unnatural. "I have to—" She motioned toward Daniel with a quick jerk of her chin, her body language completely transformed. She was no longer the relaxed, flirtatious woman who had kissed the bartender's hand just moments ago. Now, she looked panicked, almost on edge, her eyes darting between Daniel and the exit.
The bartender, clearly confused, took a half-step back, giving Sam space. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft, clearly concerned by the sudden shift.
Sam gave her a tight, almost mechanical smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… work stuff. I need to—uh—go."
Without another word, Sam stood up, brushing her jacket straight, and crossed the room toward Daniel and Matt, leaving the bartender looking bewildered. Daniel frowned, not sure what had just happened. A moment ago, Sam had been having a great time, and now she looked like she'd seen a ghost.
"Hey, Sam," Daniel greeted her as she approached, trying to keep the mood light. He gestured to the empty chair at their table. "Why not go back to her? Looks like you could've had a really good night."
He said it with a good-natured grin, but instead of lightening the mood, Sam's face grew even paler, her eyes darting nervously around the room before settling on him. She looked like she wanted to disappear.
"Hi," Sam said, her voice flat and hollow. She pulled out the chair and sat down, but there was a noticeable tension in her posture, like she was ready to bolt at any second.
Matt, oblivious to the awkwardness, smiled and extended his hand. "Hi there. I'm Matt, old friend of Daniel's. And you are?"
"Sam," she replied curtly, shaking his hand. "I, uh… work with Daniel."
Matt raised an eyebrow, noticing her tone but not commenting on it. "Nice to meet you, Sam."
Daniel, still confused by her sudden change in mood, leaned in a little. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked softly, his smile fading as concern took over. "You okay?"
Sam glanced at him, and for a moment, her eyes flickered with something close to desperation. "Daniel," she whispered, leaning in so Matt couldn't hear, "please don't say anything. Not about the bar, not about her." Her voice was almost pleading, and Daniel felt a pang of confusion. "Please. You can't… you just can't."
Thank you for reading. Hoping to update weekly if I can keep the writing up. Review and let me know what you think!
